Desert Exposure

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Desert Exposure Page 13

by Zoë Normandie


  It almost bothered him to see she wasn’t as flustered about it as he expected. He wanted her to feel what he felt.

  “Okay?”

  “And I think I’ve made myself clear on that not happening again?” She asked simply, picking up her cup again.

  The way her lips pursed as she delicately caressed her warm teacup sent him into a tizzy. He just couldn’t help himself. He was going to break all the rules with her. He might as well dive in headfirst.

  Ryder leaned in and grinned, like a predator about to snap up his prey. In that split second, he saw the flash of understanding in her eyes. She knew her time was up.

  “Resistance is futile,” he breathed.

  With one arm, he reached over and scooped her whole body up and over into his lap, ignoring the pain searing his torso. He fought the impulse to wheeze through the agony of his broken body. It was worth it to finally clutch her everywhere he’d dreamed of touching.

  As her teacup smashed to the floor, all that came out of her mouth was a squeal. She landed on him in a straddling position, face-to-face, but he cleverly kept her hands behind her back. He was the boss. She’d better fucking recognize that.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. “We can’t do this. We can’t…”

  He leaned in and breathed on her face. Her gorgeous, dark doe eyes narrowed as they studied him.

  “Tell me to stop.” He grinned as he held her wrists tightly behind her back. “I’m losing my shit.”

  “Do you not understand? We can’t do this!” Her tone was surprised, indignant.

  He shifted and held both of her hands behind her with one big hand. He unbuttoned her blouse with the other. “Tell me to stop. I want to hear you say it.”

  She moaned as he launched into kissing her neck. Light kissing quickly turned fast and furious. He grazed his teeth up and down her throat.

  “You taste so damn good,” he groaned.

  “Ryder!” she called out, but the smile on her lips betrayed her tone. “This wasn’t what I meant when I asked you to be nicer to me.”

  “Tell me to stop. Fucking say it.” He continued grazing up and down her hot throat, feeling her pulse and tasting her sweat.

  She said nothing.

  He carried on in low, prowling tones, snarling like a hungry predator that hadn’t eaten in days. “I’m going to tell you something.”

  “What?” she breathed, and he could feel the heat rising in her flesh.

  He grabbed her jaw with his spare hand. His eyes stared into hers, deadly serious. Her head tilted back, and she didn’t even budge as he tightened her restraint.

  “You are mine. Mine. All mine,” he said. “Fucking mine.”

  “What does that mean? We barely know each other,” she said breathlessly.

  “We are about to get to know each other very well.” His insinuation was clear. “You are quickly finding your way into my inner circle.” He squeezed her ass in his lap as he said it. She squeaked, pushing her breasts up against him. He loved her reactions.

  “I didn’t think this was what you meant by exclusive.” She moaned as he worked her neck and moved up to her ears.

  He pulled her back suddenly, studying her. “You haven’t been with anyone else here?”

  “No, of course not,” she snapped.

  “Good. I’ll be the first, and the last.” He brought his mouth back to hers and played with her tongue again. He couldn’t help but be rough and demanding—it was his way.

  “I shouldn’t do this,” she said, pulling back.

  He paused. “Tell me to stop, and I will. Speak up, little lady.” Ryder only wanted her if she was all in. He waited patiently for her consent and refrained from putting his mouth on hers. What was she going to do? Her hazy eyes betrayed the debate going on within her.

  “Why did you get out of the truck?” she asked quietly, breathing onto his mouth that was mere inches from hers.

  “What?” He said, confused, but her eyes had dropped to assess his damaged ribs. “Oh. They told you…”

  Her eyes blinked expectantly.

  “There was a kid,” Ryder began, pulling back just slightly. “There was gunfire, and there was a kid in front of my truck. I had to get out.”

  “To protect him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you really have to?” she breathed.

  Ryder paused and watched her. “No,” he replied, and her eyes flashed with understanding. That was a look he’d never seen before, and it piqued his interest. Her tone had changed significantly since that op, and he was coming to see why. It wasn’t just their kiss. It was what he’d done.

  And what she was beginning to understand about him.

  His hands pulled her closer again, and he pressed his mouth against hers, teasing and opening it. She didn’t even try to stop him.

  “Tell me to stop,” he repeated. “This is your last warning.”

  “Don’t stop.” That was all she could get out before his mouth owned hers.

  “This makes you mine. Do you understand me?” he commanded, his tongue heavy as it found its way in and out of her mouth. “I don’t share. You do this, and you are committed—to me.”

  Moaning his name in pleasure, her response was clear as he snuck his hand underneath her blouse and handled her firm, full breasts that were just as exquisite as they looked. He pulled her hands back behind her, forcing her to lean back, and buried his face in her chest, using his teeth to edge her bra left and right.

  “Now this is what I want,” he said, taking her mouth again. “All of you.”

  As she tilted her chin up, completely submitting to him, he lifted her whole body up with one arm. They were standing with her in his arms. If he felt pain from his injury before, now it was nearly excruciating. But it didn’t matter—the adrenaline had kicked in. Lifting her wasn’t hard. He felt as high as hell as she gave into his demands. He’d pay for it tenfold later, but at that moment Ryder didn’t give a fuck about anything except having her.

  And she wanted him back. His cock had grown to a size that commanded him and every choice he was making. As he pressed her against the wall, holding her up, pressing himself hard against her as they made out, she grew visibly hotter and more aroused, just like him. They were clearly a sexual match. So far, the preamble felt fucking incredible.

  He hoped they were a match in other ways as well.

  “There are responsibilities to being mine,” Ryder continued as he pushed her, still in his arms, against the wall.

  “Oh, I’m sure there are.”

  Holding her up, letting her feet only graze the floor, he unbuttoned her pants and tore them off. He heard a rip in the seam. Neither of them cared. Surely she had other pants.

  Her mouth was buried under his as he straightened her back against the wall. Then he wrapped her legs around him and felt her naked, aroused flesh open to his crotch. She moaned as his free hand found her wet core. Her wet, slick, hotter-than-hell pussy. She was ready for him. His cock was still clothed, he knew exactly what he wanted, and he was getting there. But he didn’t want to give it to her that quick.

  He wanted to watch her squirm a little first. He wanted her to beg for it. So he used his big, long hands and touched her. Played with her. Worked her. Two, three fingers pushed in and out of her, feeling her tighten and moan with every movement.

  “Ryder,” she moaned as he swirled around her clit. “I want it, daddy.”

  His rock-hard erection hit a whole new level upon hearing those words crest her lips. She said it with a mischievous look, and it completely turned him on. He loved her playfulness. He knew she was more than willing to push boundaries.

  “I like that,” he growled. “I’ll be your daddy.” He inserted three fingers inside of her again, making room for his cock. He was fucking hard and ready. “I don’t like seeing you with other guys.” He bore down on her, deadpan and serious. It was time for some base rules.

  She moaned as he played with her, her head
tilting back. He could sense her orgasm mounting. His hands were big enough to make it happen easily for her.

  “I like loyal women. I don’t trust easily,” he continued. “I don’t forgive.”

  Her moans turned into gentle cries as his fingers slipped in and out of her core, turning around, spiralling, and playing with the soft bud at the opening. He could tell she was working hard to keep quiet.

  No doubt she’d be a screamer if they had the space.

  “And in return, I’ll give you everything you want,” he softly said. “I’m as loyal as they get. You’ll never have that problem with me. So don’t fuck me over.”

  Without even trying, he felt her climaxing, her eyes rolling back, her head sliding up and down the wall.

  “I’m in,” she breathed. “Anything.”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  Her orgasm dripped down his fingers, and he couldn’t help but taste it. Of course she tasted amazing. No doubt there. Everything about her was sexy as hell. It further validated his belief that she was some sort of chosen one. Anointed.

  It was the only way to explain it all.

  “Fuck me, Master Chief,” she cried, eyes half-open.

  “Fucking right, I will.”

  Unbuckling and pushing down his pants, he whipped out his manhood and slid right up inside of her. It was tight at first, but once the head got through, he jammed it up. She loved every second of his toughness, and it only encouraged him. He hadn’t brought protection to theater. But it didn’t matter. She was his. They had a verbal contract. He considered it gold.

  As he pumped harder and harder up into her, his arms slamming her body down on his dick with her back sliding up and down the wall, he found his own climax boiling up.

  “Oh, Ryder, you are so damn…” She couldn’t finish her thought as a groan came out of her with her own orgasm. He felt her wetness dripping down his balls.

  Ryder had no thoughts, only animal desire. He lunged forward and took her throat in his mouth, kissing, licking and biting it. Her full breasts bounced. Her plump lips swelled. Everything about her was arousing as shit. He was so fucked.

  As her pussy tightened around him, her eyes refocused on him, and he relished the eye contact. Noses nearly touching, eyes locked together, his climax came, and hot semen found its way out of him—and right up into her.

  She didn’t blink or ask him to pull away.

  She took it all.

  She took it like a champion.

  He could only wonder if she’d do the same with her mouth.

  So he pressed his mouth onto hers again, kissing her sweeter, gentler. Caring.

  After a minute, she slid down the wall, and he held her to his body and sat them down together into the metal chair, with her on top of him. Nothing had ever felt as real as that moment with her. For the first time in a long time, he let someone into his small circle of trust, and this time it was someone who was becoming very important to him.

  21

  Olivia rested against Ryder, her body heavy and sated. She could bury her face in him all day and never come up for air. The man was everything she’d ever fantasized about: honorable, sexy, solid, stand up. A real fucking hero. She reminded herself that she’d better not lose his fucking trust. He was her only friend. Her only ally. And he was starting to mean something to her.

  He clearly already meant a lot to many other people.

  His dark eyes were observing her. That was another thing she was growing to love about him: he was her intellectual match. Studying him further, she saw that everything about his demeanor had changed. She was looking at the real man. The real Ryder. No more masks or games. Those all had gone away.

  “You’re staring at me,” he breathed.

  “I’m not,” she whispered back.

  “You are.” He grinned.

  It was the absolute wrong time, but Olivia felt a wave of self-consciousness. She wished he wasn’t going to look, but she needed to peel herself away and reach for her clothes.

  “It’s time to talk,” he said, reaching over to the side to grab his discarded T-shirt for her.

  As Olivia accepted the black shirt that smelled perfectly like him and threw it over her naked body, he held her solidly in his lap like she weighed nothing. His thick thighs underneath her ass looked like muscular trunks, dark and tanned with soft, curly black hairs.

  She traced her finger up his thigh, and he sucked in breath as it gently trailed up his bruised torso. His wounds hadn’t gotten much better, and she could only imagine what it had taken for him to throw her around like he did. His heavy breathing and dilated pupils indicated a man satisfied, but she knew the reality of hurt would kick in soon.

  Along with the realities of other things.

  “Ryder…” She tried to find words, but everything she’d agreed to during sex crashed back upon her. Fuck, he had a funny way of getting her into situations that she knew she shouldn’t be in.

  He picked up her hand from where it was on his torso and kissed the back of it, admiring her. The affection and care in his touch were tangible—and nothing short of a dream.

  Was she dreaming?

  Or maybe it was just the prelude to a nightmare. She gritted her teeth. It was all fucked up. She’d fucked up. It didn’t matter how she felt about him. She had to do better for his sake. He’d put his life on the line for that kid. He protected everyone. Who was going to protect him?

  I am.

  “Hey.” Concerned, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  She looked down at his bruised torso again, unable to make eye contact with someone who she’d promised everything to, and who she was failing.

  “I’m sorry. I just… I…” Olivia couldn’t find the words.

  “We won’t tell anyone,” he assured her. “I’m not that guy.”

  “I know that. I trust you, just like how you trust me.” She knew he was trying to comfort her, but that wasn’t what bothered her.

  “Then what is it?” he pressed, tilting her chin up to look at him.

  She looked into his eyes, unsure how to phrase it without being insulting. “Ryder… it’s just that your credibility…” Olivia began, the root of her worry boiling up. “For your own sake, I can’t do this to you. I can’t dishonor you.”

  “I’m choosing to be with you. I’m doing this to myself.” He brought her mouth to his and kissed her. “Just like everything else I’ve done.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  In good Ryder fashion, he dismissed her concerns. “Don’t worry about me,” he said flippantly, like his life was worth nothing. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Olivia’s eyes grew round, and she realized he’d committed himself to becoming a martyr. He didn’t seem to understand that throwing caution into the wind completely would ruin his plot to disrupt the commander. His credibility, his word—all of that could be so easily shaken if there was even a whisper of their affair. Why couldn’t he see this?

  Shaking her head, Olivia stood up from where she sat on him, her mind spinning. She reached for her discarded clothes and threw them over the T-shirt she’d stolen from him. The reprieve unveiled the myriad emotions spiraling out of control within her. None of them fit together or made sense.

  Looking back at their interview chairs, she saw her hero, sitting dressed in his sweater and pants. His physical agony was clear. To what lengths was he willing to go just to have her? Would he destroy everything he had worked toward?

  “Let’s talk.” His eyes were searching. She saw his concern. She was acting like a wounded animal, and she couldn’t seem to hide it.

  Exhaling slowly, she picked up her notebook and tried to read her interview notes. Her head was too fucked up to ask anything. It was not a good time.

  “I think… I think we might have to postpone,” she began reluctantly. Postpone until she felt like a professional again, and could save him from himself.

  Instead of agreeing or submitting to her comment, his dark eyes searched h
ers, and he said slowly, “Last year, I was running an operation with Blackshot as my second in command. All the teams were there. We had been searching for the rebel leader. We ended up capturing a group of young men that were part of his group,” he explained. “We’ve been looking for this fucking leader for years.”

  Olivia could hardly believe it. After the long wait, he was finally spilling the beans about what happened in the Wolfpack. He was just keeping up his end of the bargain. He was a man of his word. A solid guy. She’d agreed to be his, and he was going to give her everything she wanted and needed.

  Ryder took a deep breath and rubbed his face roughly. Olivia could tell this wasn’t an easy memory for him.

  “The enemy surrendered quickly and easily. Fuller had us tie them up with zap straps as we usually would.” Ryder’s voice was low and real. “So I ordered Blackshot to detain them. I went to call in the cleanup crew, and when I came back… shit.”

  “What’s the cleanup crew?” She’d stopped looking at her notes.

  “Sometimes it’s the lesser SOF groups, sometimes it’s the local security groups.” He breathed out hard, too hard, and coughed. “When we detain and disarm enemies, we leave them to be triaged and imprisoned by the cleanup crew.”

  “So what happened next?” Olivia felt herself edging forward on her chair. She was finally going to learn what was behind the allegations.

  He leaned back, wincing through the pain. She saw more than just physical pain cross his face. He tapped his hands slowly on his knees, drawing out the memories. “Fuller told me there wasn’t going to be a cleanup crew. So we didn’t have a lot of options. And all hell had broken loose—some of the zap-strapped rebels had gotten out of hand, and some were running.”

  His eyes became blanker and darker than she’d seen ever before “So we shot them all. Point blank.”

  A silence captured the room, and her spine stiffened. She knew what his job was, but it was hard knowing the hands that touched her were the same hands that…

  “Who shot them all?” Olivia asked quietly, watching the tension in his jaw and his absent gaze.

  “Fuller ordered the junior SEALs,” he explained. “I stepped in and did it, so they didn’t have to.”

 

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