Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Marking Mariah (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Liz Crowe

  Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Stoker Aces Production, LLC. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Special Forces: Operation Alpha remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Stoker Aces Production, LLC, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Marking Mariah

  A Kindle World Novel

  Susan Stoker’s Special Forces

  By Liz Crowe

  Many thanks to Susan Stoker, who encouraged me to give Kindle Worlds a try by writing some fan fiction for her “Special Forces” series. I hope all of her many fans will enjoy my particular “Liz Crowe-style” spin on her Delta Force series in this novel.

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  About The Author

  Marking Mariah

  When a severe concussion sustained on a mission in Egypt equals a discharge for one-time soccer super star turned Delta Force IT expert, Terrance “Trigger” O’Leary, he spends half a year drunk, and in more strange beds than even he is willing to admit.

  After wandering back home to Lucasville, Kentucky, he’s hired by his old friend, now the principal of the local high school. Honestly believing that his new job as soccer coach and part time bartender will be all he needs to fix himself, he’s determined to leave everything about his old life behind.

  But a chance encounter at a karaoke bar turns into a smoking hot hook-up with a woman whose deep mocha skin and hypnotic singing voice turns him inside out. A woman he’s a little surprised to meet again the next day—Mariah Bailey, recent winner of “Singers,” a national talent competition, and the high school’s new music teacher.

  When terrifying, inexplicable violence rips the sleepy community apart, Trigger must leap back into action— which forces Mariah to accept his feelings about her, and the fact that even he can’t always save the day.

  Prologue

  “Hey,” she said, her raspy, sexy voice hitting him right in the libido and spreading warm tendrils through his chest. “I’ll have one of those.” She pointed to the dark beer in his glass.

  He motioned for the bartender without looking at her. Because if he did, he’d say or do something so completely stupid it would ruin the moment. They sipped awhile in silence and kept their attention on a television over the bar, which soundlessly displayed a late season Reds game.

  “Another?” he asked, pointing to her empty glass after a while.

  “Sure, thanks,” she said. He allowed himself a quick peek at her before looking away once more.

  The bartender set them up again. They drank and watched the Reds blow a seven to two lead in the course of a single inning without exchanging a single word.

  “And now, let’s all see if we can’t get our very own superstar back up here,” the karaoke DJ blared out into the pub. “Come on, please? One more song?”

  She sighed. He kept his eyes on the TV, sensing when she slid off her barstool away from him. It wasn’t until she’d had time to make it over to the tiny stage that he turned all the way around and looked at her, drinking her in from head to toe in a way that ramped up his lust, while giving him an odd sensation of dissatisfaction at the same time. Because he knew all the men in here were doing the same thing.

  How could they not?

  She was exquisite.

  And he wanted her so badly he could taste the want, like a warm drop of honey, or maybe bourbon, on the back of his tongue.

  He watched as she conferred with the DJ, then grabbed the mic and smiled right straight at him before saying, “Here’s one for the tall, handsome stranger…in all our lives.”

  He grinned and crossed his arms, allowing himself to experience the full-body glow of lust at the sight and sound of her. She sang, something he knew but didn’t know at the same time. At that moment, she sang only for him, since she barely took her eyes off him while she did it. Something smoky and seductive that showed off her range and allowed her to walk around the tiny stage, owning it as if it were a huge arena.

  She finished, put the mic back in its stand and blew kisses at everyone clapping and hollering for her. He turned back around, praying harder than he ever had that she’d come back and sit next to him, let their upper arms touch like they’d been doing in a casual, comfortable way. He required it. Otherwise he might not live.

  Dramatic much? he thought.

  Yes. And fuck you anyway, he answered himself as he got a whiff of her now-familiar scent—a touch of lavender, or maybe sandalwood, with a unique undercurrent of something spicy laid over with vanilla. He closed his eyes, imagining her body, that exotic, dark skin, all his to touch and kiss and lick as he pleased.

  And please her he would. Oh hell yes. He honestly believed at that moment that he’d been born to do exactly that, and nothing else.

  This was not so much out of the ordinary. On more than one occasion, he’d been known to walk into a bar or a party, pick a girl, and be between her willing legs inside of an hour. A skill he’d developed in high school, honed in college, and perfected during his off times between missions for Delta Force, when he had to be on his own, separate from his fellow Operators per Army guidelines.

  But this felt…different.

  And weird.

  And somehow perfect.

  She leaned on her elbow and stared at him as he attempted to focus on the end of the ball game. When she touched his arm, he flinched, but she didn’t stop touching him. To the contrary, she wrapped her warm palm around his left biceps. So he turned to her, glanced down at her long-fingered hand—the left one, devoid of rings, thank God—then up at at her face. The raw, exotic beauty of her made his legs shake.

  “Nice voice,” he said, keeping his own low so their conversation remained private. The rest of the rowdy restaurant faded when their eyes met. As he leaned close to her ear and closed his eyes, he let himself get drunk on her proximity. “Want to get out of here?”

  It was a sad, trite line, but God help him if it wasn’t all he had right now. He had to get out of here, with her. He couldn’t bear the small talk or bullshit tonight. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t want to do it here.

  She leaned back, taking her warm palm off his skin, giving him an arched look. He blinked, recalculating and resetting because he would have her, even if she required the small talk and bullshit. His entire body jangled like an exposed nerve—the center of the jangling located directly below his belt.

  Then she smiled. “You know, you may not believe this, but I don’t usually pick up strangers at strange bars,” she admitted, leaning forward and pressing her full lips to his cheek. “But I’m gonna make an exception tonight,” she whispered. “Where can we go, tall, dark and handsome?”

  “Come on,” he said, tossing down some money and grabbing her hand. She followed him. He sensed every pair of eyes on them as they made their exit.

  ***

  She let him pull her out into the soft, warm night before she tugged her hand out of his grip and stopped. He turned, providing her wit
h her first full body view of him. She took a long breath and tried not to lick her lips, or give away how much she was trembling in anticipation. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”

  He took two long steps and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers, right smack in the middle of the sidewalk outside the pub. He breached her lips with his tongue, gently but firmly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, going up on her tiptoes even in the tall wedge shoes. His tall, firm body pressed against hers as she opened her mouth to him. His hands slid down and grabbed her ass, and she let him, no longer caring who might be watching.

  This is dangerous, her inner, better self, reminded her.

  Shut up. I deserve this, she told it as she pressed even closer, needing to feel all of him. He broke from her lips, leaving them both gasping as he kissed his way down her neck, then back up to her ear. “Upstairs,” he whispered. “Can’t make any promises about the condition of it but…oh… shit,” he grunted when she cupped the impressive bulge next to his zipper.

  “Let’s go,” she said, not even believing her own words.

  This was not her. This was not what she did. She had responsibilities. She needed to get home, to snap out of whatever was happening to her in the arms of this amazing specimen of a man—a man who could have dropped out of some universe where all the men were tall, sexy, and hot. “I need this,” she whispered, to both of them.

  He stepped back, held out his hand in an oddly formal way. She took it and they walked around behind the row of buildings on the main street then up a metal staircase to a door that he unlocked after fumbling a few frantic seconds with a key. She watched him, taking in his arresting profile, the short haircut, the ropy muscles along his shoulders under the thin T-shirt.

  Finally, the door creaked open revealing a small apartment with utilitarian furnishings, and smelling slightly of bleach. She hesitated on the threshold. This really was not her; not what she did. She hadn’t been with a man in years, not since she’d been abandoned by her husband, leaving her to raise her son alone. She’d probably grown her damn hymen back, or something equally gross.

  He smiled at her, his teeth shiny in the darkness, his scent—leather, sweat, soap—filling her head, making her dizzy with lust. “I…can’t…” she said, but took his extended hand once more.

  “Let’s test that theory,” he said, closing the door behind her and pressing her against it, his hands roaming, his lips on her neck, then her shoulder. He lifted her shirt up and off, then unhooked her bra, all in once practiced motion while kissing her, his lips full and firm and in control.

  As he cupped her breasts reverently, sucking first one, then the other painfully peaked nipple into his mouth, she caressed his stubbly hair. Her hips moved as he increased his suction, teasing and tantalizing and forcing strange noises from her throat. Her breathing came in short gasps as he slid up her body, letting her divest him of his shirt along the way.

  She shivered in anticipation as she ran a finger down his bare chest, to his impressive six-pack and then even lower. He kept planting light, feathery kisses along her shoulder, running rough thumbs over her nipples, his breath strangely calm, as if he weren’t even affected.

  “I need to taste you,” he said, his voice raspy as he ran his finger up into her hair and kissed her again, hard this time, sending a message with it and making her moan into his lips. “Oh God, please…let me taste all of you,” he whispered, keeping his lips near hers, teasing again—that thumb, those hands, his unbelievably firm body pressed close.

  Unable to form words, she nodded. He unbuttoned her jeans, unzipped them and she wriggled out, eager, wanting more from him so badly tears pressed against her eyes. He moved back, looking her up and down, his eyes shining in the dark room. “Jesus, but you are perfect.” She stood, shaking from head to toe under his gaze.

  He pulled her close, turned her then gave her a gentle push. She dropped back, not even looking to see what was there, unwilling to take her eyes off him. She landed on a soft, flat surface, at eye level with his crotch. Smiling, she unzipped him, taking his hot erection in her hand before sliding her lips over it. He groaned and spread his legs, threading his fingers into her hair as he thrust forward.

  Her body zinged from her scalp to her toes as she teased and sucked, cradling his heavy balls in one palm, tasting his eagerness for her.

  “Stop,” he croaked out, moving back and out of her reach, his hand around his cock. “I don’t want to come yet. Not until you do…a lot. And you can leave that to me.”

  Stepping forward, he pushed her back, ripping her panties into two pieces before diving between her legs, nibbling up one trembling thigh then lapping at her labia. She tilted her hips, giving him access, needing this so badly tears actually did leak from her eyes as he flicked her clit with his warm tongue until she squealed with pleasure. When he finally sucked her clit into his mouth, she draped both legs over his shoulders, still amazed at herself, but no longer caring as he slid fingers into her, rocking them in and out, in time with his perfect suction. She’d never been terribly hair trigger, orgasm-wise. Her ex hadn’t had a lot of patience with her either so she’d usually rub one out herself after he’d come and passed out. But this…this was in a different league altogether.

  “Yes,” she heard someone hiss. “Yes! Please!” That someone—her, she knew on some level—yelped as her body tensed, then released in a glorious spasm of pleasure. Her vision darkened, then brightened as he stroked something deep inside her body, while providing simultaneous exterior friction.

  Her hips bucked and her fingertips dug into his scalp as she rode out the most amazing orgasm of her entire life. She gasped, and dropped her arms to her sides as he rose up, lips shining. She smiled at him then, knowing that the best was yet to come—so to speak.

  “Wanna ride?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling from a shaft of moonlight that pierced the single window in the room. “Baby,” he said, making her shiver as he dropped onto his back and tugged her at the same time, pulling her up until she straddled him.

  She hesitated, knowing she should ask about a condom, but at that moment not giving a shit. She needed him inside her. Now.

  Dropping down over him, letting the curly fall of her hair drape their faces, shutting out everything else, she angled her hips, reached down, positioned his cock, and slid down one inch at a time. He sucked in a breath as she enveloped him, taking him all the way in and grinding down hard. His fingertips dug into her hips as he thrust up to meet her, until she rose, wanting to feel that incredible sensation of taking him inside her again and again.

  He groaned low in his throat as she settled onto him, pressing her clit against his pubic bone. Her body revved, ready for a fresh orgasm. When he yanked her down and latched on to her nipple that tore it.

  “Oh God, yes!” she yelped as she took him fully inside her. Slow at first, then fast, and still faster as he sucked hard on her nipple. The orgasm slammed into her like a wave, bowling her over, tossing her under in the warmest, most perfect ocean in the universe.

  With a grunt, he flipped them over as smoothly as you’d read about in a book, grabbed her arms and lifted them over her head. “My turn on top,” was all he said, as he took over, setting his own rhythm, rocking into her as she rose up, wrapping her legs around him. Their lips met, tongues tangling and teeth clacking together in urgency.

  When he broke the kiss and slowed his thrusts and stared at her, she blinked, worried she’d missed something. “I’m gonna come inside you,” he said between tightly clenched teeth. “That all right?”

  She nodded, took his face between her hands, lifting her hips even higher and arching her back. “Fill me,” she sighed.

  With a groan, he gave two quick thrusts, then shuddered, and spilled into her, their bodies still moving as one, slick with sweat, the smell of them making her weak and shaky all over. He dropped down over her and she gathered him close, kissing his hair, stroking his back, keeping her legs around him.

&
nbsp; When he propped himself back up again, his eyes were clear and bright in the moonlight. “Damn,” he said, with a mischievous, adorable grin. “That was….” He sighed and pulled out of her, dropping onto his back and pulling her into his side. She snuggled into him, draping an arm and leg over his body, feeling herself drift and knowing this afterglow thing had to end soon. She had to get home.

  He tilted her face up and kissed her softly, but in a way that promised oh-so-much more. She propped on one elbow, studying him. “God, this is like something out of a bad romance novel. Do you even know my name?”

  He chuckled and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “I heard the guy say your name before you sang the first time.” His angular face, highlighted by the moonlight in the otherwise darkened room mesmerized her as he spoke.

  “Really? Well, I heard your name from my friends. They were full up of gossip about you, if you must know.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said with a sigh, holding her close. “Tell you what. Let’s just pretend all that small town shit there isn’t out there right now. What do you say?”

  She settled into the curve of his shoulder, running her hand across his chest, marveling at her own capacity for extreme sluttiness. As if reading her mind, he rolled them so she was once again on her back, him looming over her, his presence filling her world. “I loved that,” he said, before leaning down to kiss her in that way he had—that way she was getting a tad addicted to if she were honest with herself. When he ended the kiss with a tiny nip to her lower lip she smiled. When he smiled back at her, her heart did an odd, quick thudding dance in her chest.

  Not good. She had no business getting attached to some random, one-night-stand guy. No matter how perfect-body he might be.

  He stared down at her, as if peering into her very soul. “Mariah,” he said. “Thank you.”