by D. C. Stone
With Samantha in his arms, he found the opportunity of something to work for. She was definitely worth it. The question was, would she see him as someone to take that kind of chance with?
While he’d been thinking, she hadn’t said a word. He curled her tighter to him. “What’s got you so quiet?” he asked.
She trailed her fingers along his back, a soft caress. “I could ask the same of you.”
“I asked you first,” he said on a smile.
She chuckled. “Is it always a competition with you?”
“Sweetheart,” he said and gave a quick squeeze of his arms, “when you grow up in a house with five brothers, then join the military at seventeen only to get an even bigger family who all compete against each other, there’s really no other way to be.”
Her chest shook again his with silent laughter, and he had to push the feel of her breasts against his chest out of his mind, otherwise, they’d get no sleep.
“Your poor mother.”
He grinned, staring out the window across the room. Below sat a dark dresser, bare on top as if she hadn’t had a chance to move in. He could sympathize. His house barely looked as if he lived there, and he had owned it for over ten years. “Daniel and Karen Gonzalez aren’t of blood, but they are the best part of my life. Always will be.”
Samantha pulled back and laid her head next to his, staring into his eyes. “I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Ask your questions. Start wherever.”
Her eyes widened, showing the whites more as if surprised. “How old were you when you were adopted?”
“Nine. Old enough to know my past, but too young to understand it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” he said, kicking a leg under hers and pulling one long thigh over his hip. Not to try anything, but more because he wanted her closer. “Both of my birth-parents were arrested for some drug offenses around the time we were taken from the only place we called home. Had it not been the third time, and had the charges not been what they were, which was felony possession with an intent to sell, things might have been different. I definitely wouldn’t be where I am today, not even close.”
He paused for a moment, but when she said nothing, he went on, getting lost in the memories. “Karen hadn’t been the social worker assigned at first, but she was the third. By the time she found me, I had ended up getting kicked out of multiple foster homes because of fighting and disrupting the peace.” He kept talking over her gasp. In his chest, something clenched at the thought of those times and something or someone he had lost. He tried to hold on to the thought, but it slipped away.
He sighed. “Turns out both of my grandparents had wanted nothing to do with me … us?” he asked in question. Why did it feel as if there had been someone else? Samantha adjusted her leg, bringing him back to the present, and he shook his head. “Anyhow, they had wiped their hands of their own children years ago when both robbed them blind. But all I could remember back then was feeling nothing but a blinding anger at everyone I came into contact with. They say it came from a lot of the neglect I … we … shit, I experienced from years of being forgotten about. Heck, even after my parents were arrested that final time, it took the principal calling to report my absence for so many days in a row to even get someone to realize I’d been left behind.”
“Why do you keep changing it, as if you’re talking in the plural sense?”
He shook his head again, trying to think. “I don’t really know. It’s almost like I’m forgetting about someone who had been with me then.”
She lifted a brow, but he didn’t have an answer. He didn’t understand it either.
“Chris, I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, having worked through the past. He still felt the pain, but now he could manage it. “It is what it is. Had none of that happened, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”
“That’s one way to look at it, but it still isn’t right. No child should have to experience that.”
He nodded once. “You’re right. But with people like Karen and Daniel Gonzalez, at least there’s hope at the end of that dark tunnel.”
He pulled her against him again, loving the feel of her skin on his.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” she said, her voice soft.
He pulled her in tighter. “Not amazing. I’m just driven to be the best I can be with the cards I’ve been dealt. There are a lot of things that could have been done differently, but I knew my path from the moment my pop, Daniel, took me to a football game at West Point. It wasn’t the big football players, or the field, the pomp and circumstance of the event, it was what I saw outside of that. Those standing guard to the base, the soldiers standing around and helping others. I wanted to give back and get to a place where I could do that. So, I decided then I would join the military.”
“And you did.”
“Yeah,” he said with a short laugh. “And you should have seen Ma’s face when I came home with the enlistment papers at seventeen, just after 9/11. I had to get their permission, of course, but after a few days of pushing my case and the reasoning behind it, they finally relented. Though I don’t think I’ll ever get the sight of Ma’s face out of my mind the day I left for boot camp.”
“She loves you. Are you the oldest?”
He nodded, but still said, “Yeah. I was the first they adopted. But by then, we had a full house. Still, she said it was like seeing her most troubled heart leave.”
“She still wants to look out for you. I bet it was hard to let you go after everything you all had been through.”
“It was, for both of us, but it was for the best.”
They were both quiet for a few minutes, the sound of the rain from outside growing softer. The storm was passing. “I’m glad you have that,” she said.
He pulled back to look at her. She wouldn’t meet his eyes for long periods of time, only glanced at him every so often. Her fingers played with the hair at his chest as if she were distracted. “You ready to tell me what happened?” he asked, hoping, really hoping she said yes. He wanted to remove those shadows from her eyes.
She bit her lip, glanced at him again, but shook her head, and his hopes plummeted. He tried to not let the disappointment show.
“Not the full story yet, Chris. I need time.”
He got it. But still, it stung. To cover that up, he pulled her close again, pushing his leg up higher between hers. She shivered and moved closer, the fingers that had been on his back moving over the curve of his ass. Perhaps she wanted to distract him, or maybe the position of their bodies, but it seemed like she was up for another round. He was only all too happy to comply.
Hooking his hand under her knee, he pushed his leg higher until the warmth between her legs rested against his thigh. His cock lengthened between them, coming to rest against her belly. If he pushed his hips up, as he was tempted to do, he knew the tip of his dick would slide between her plump breasts.
Her mouth opened over the base of his throat, her tongue coming out to swirl and lick against his skin. She moved against him in a lazy grind, using his thigh to work her pleasure higher. He loved how responsive she’d been earlier, how she went after her pleasure and took it. If that was what it had been like for their first time, he could only imagine what more trust and time would bring.
They’d be explosive.
Her breath stuttered across his collarbone as her hips rotated faster against his thigh. He pressed her ass against him, encouraging the movement as he pushed his hips forward, working his length against the softness of her belly.
With each thrust, the tip of his dick touched the underside of her breasts, beckoning.
“Chris, yes,” she whispered against his neck, her head tilting back. He took the offering and dipped his head, tangling his tongue with hers for a deep kiss.
She panted in his mouth and rolled her hips faster, taking her pleasure. “Don’t stop,” she begged.”
“Baby, I don’t have any plans on stopping anything.” He rolled his thigh higher, spreading her wider, when her breath hitched and she cried out. Her hips rocked against his leg wantonly, her eyes losing focus, face awash in pleasure. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“Fuck, Red, you’re fucking gorgeous when you come.”
She smiled a little lazily then wrapped her hand around his throbbing shaft. “Let’s take care of you now, shall we?”
He grinned lopsidedly but stilled her hand. “Lie on your back.”
She did, her brows coming up in question. He removed her hand from him, bringing both of hers to the sides of her breasts and pushed them together, plumping her tits high. She glanced to the side, and he suspected she gave a pretty blush, but she looked magnificent, holding her tits for him.
“Stay right there,” he ordered then reached to the side and grabbed the bottle of lotion on her nightstand. He put some in his palm, coated his cock with it, then climbed over Samantha, a knee on each side of her arms. Shifting, he brought his cock to her chest, watching as her eyes grew hungry before she pushed her breasts closer, and he slid inside the haven she’d created.
His head rolled back on his neck at the feel of such softness, yet tightness, surrounding his pulsing shaft. He pumped forward, using her chest to work him higher, loving the fire in her eyes. She was enjoying this, too.
Each thrust pushed him higher and higher up her chest, his excitement causing his length to grow. Samantha tilted her head and opened her mouth, allowing each swipe to slide inside the wet haven. Just the tip. Christ!
He wanted to ask her to stretch her neck to take more of him, but his hips were losing their rhythm, the sight and feel of her almost too much to take. He grunted, a tightness at the base of his spine building, ready to explode.
“Sam,” he said, voice rough. “I’m about to come.”
She looked up and met his eyes, then as if reading his mind, stretched her neck and took more of him with each swipe. The coil at the base of his spine sprang open and exploded. Samantha held his gaze as she took all he offered, sucking him dry, drawing out his pleasure with a little flick of her tongue.
He stilled, grabbing the slats of her bedframe before gently removing himself from her mouth. He dropped down, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her softly. “Jesus. Jesus,” he said, speechless.
She smiled and spread her legs, letting him fall between. “Ready again?”
“Jesus,” he said again, and she laughed.
A low growling noise came from downstairs, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. They both froze.
He must really be out of his element, not in the field anymore, as Samantha shot out of bed before he had a chance to react, scrambling from beneath him like the covers were on fire.
“Red,” he said, rolling over the side and coming to his feet. She hopped into her pants and grabbed a sweater.
“He has a muzzle on,” she said, running from the room.
He grabbed his boxers on the move, really missing his piece, which sat in the gun safe back at his cabin. DA didn’t sound too happy. His snarls reached up the stairs at a deafening sound, getting louder and more aggravated by the second. “Dammit, Red, wait!” His request was useless as she’d already disappeared from his sight.
He took the stairs two at a time, coming to a stop behind her, DA flanking her side. The Shepherd’s hackles quivered, standing at attention, pressed tight to Samantha’s side as both woman and dog looked out the front window.
Good news was at least DA focused on whatever had caught his attention outdoors, and not on her situated at his side. Bad news, she was still too damn close to his dog, especially one growling. But the weird thing was that it seemed as if DA were protecting her.
She turned to him, wide-eyed, but didn’t move from DA’s side. “He must really have some territorial instincts.”
Chris looked to the other side of the wet glass and tried to focus past the shining glow of the yellow streetlight outside, but he didn’t see anything or anyone. “Why do you say that?” He purposely stepped between her and DA. His partner ceased growling and gave a little whine, looking up at Chris then back outside.
With a quick snap, he released the muzzle and tossed it aside.
“Some guy was walking down the street. Why would Delta Alpha react like that?”
Chris shook his head, craning his neck to see past the shadows along the sidewalk. Nothing. “He’s never acted like that before. You get a look at the guy?”
“No, only saw the back of him. He looked like he was limping pretty bad though.”
Chris’s heart, which had been coming back down from yet another rush of adrenaline, suddenly spiked in its pulse, slamming against his chest like a sledgehammer. He turned to Samantha. “A limp?”
She nodded. “Yeah, maybe he was hovering too close to the window or something. Can’t say as I blame him with the rain and all.”
Dread sank in his gut like a block of old butter. The coincidences over the past few days added up to something that had to be impossible. Surely his mind and the different situations were just playing games on him. But after the feelings of being watched, the break-in at his house, the sighting of someone looking like Tayseer, and now this? Something was going on. That much he was sure of. He needed to find out what, once and for all.
Chapter Fourteen
A week and a half passed with no sign of Tayseer in the area. Despite all being calm on that front, Chris was anything but convinced. The events leading up to that rainy night with the mysterious figure were too coincidental for him to dismiss. None of it felt right. And he’d learned on more than one occasion out in the field to trust his gut. If it was telling you to run, you better run—fast.
So, despite being home, on US soil in Nyack, New York, he still looked to the oily feeling in his gut with the only thing it told him: something was about to go FUBAR—fucked up beyond recognition—soon.
Chris grabbed his phone on the heels of that thought, knowing another conversation needed to happen, and dialed Barber’s number.
Barber’s gruff voice came a second later. “Crack.”
“Sir,” he said in response.
“Please tell me that while you’ve been home you haven’t been gorging on all that fast food bullshit, letting it weigh you down so I have to worry about carrying your ass across the field in a training exercise and breaking my back from the weight you’ve put on.”
Chris snorted. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I won’t tell you I’ve been living and breathing Five Guys,” he said, referring to the local, delicious hamburger joint. They weren’t so much local as they were national, but that didn’t stop the chain from making some of the best burgers he’d ever tasted.
Choked laughter sounded over the line. “Five Guys? You want to tell me something, son?”
Chris squinted out across his yard, trying to make sense of what Barber asked. “That I like hamburgers?” he said, though it came out as a question.
“Wait … is that what the joint is called?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “Wait, what did you think I was talking about?”
Barber hooted with laugher and Chris scrunched his face up more. “I don’t know anything about what this Five Guys is. You call me saying you’ve been living and breathing five guys, what am I supposed to think?”
Chris dropped his feet from the railing to the floor with a surprising thud. “Are you shitting me right now?”
Barber’s laughter came down through the line again, and yeah, his commander sounded like he was really enjoying himself. The ass.
“Christ,” Chris said.
Barber’s laughter took a few more minutes to settle. “So, got a bad news/good news situation for you. The rest of the team has been briefed, but I wanted to wait until you called me to tell you.”
He hated the sick feeling in his stomach. Being left out of something the team had been told. But it was a feeling he’d have to g
et used to soon. “Hit me.”
“Well, let’s just say it’s been real busy around here the past few weeks. Had some panties get twisted up at headquarters after everything on the mission went to shit. A lot of people who hadn’t asked questions before started asking questions, and one thing led to another before an in-de-pen-dent”—he broke up the word, enunciating each syllable carefully—“contracting investigation agency was brought in to review with our own guys and the CIA. Turns out this contracting agency isn’t just good at investigating embezzlements and Joes slipping out on Marthas for a good night with Tina, but they are fucking great at finding shit that wasn’t supposed to be found.”
Chris scratched his head, trying to keep up with everything. Joe? Tina? “Who is looking at what?”
“Some big-time black op investigators, and when I say black, I mean the blackest of black. Even I didn’t know they existed. And I know plenty of super-secret shit, but this group is well above my security clearance.”
“Sounds pretty secret,” he said lamely, still trying to figure out what was happening. “So, I take it since you said they are fucking great at finding shit, they found something?”
Silence, then, “In case you failed to see through the phone just now, that was me nodding.”
Chris’s heart slammed against his chest, the impact making his breath catch. He knew it. Knew it! “What did they find?” He took a deep breath.
“A mole.”
“Where?”
“In the CI-fucking-A.”
“Christ!” Chris sat back in his chair, stunned. That whole mission had been a big headache, one clusterfuck after another. To think there had been a mole the entire time, that they sent his team in under those conditions … he shuddered. It could have been so much worse.
“The mission,” Barber went on, “was designed to fail. Pisses me right off knowing what I know now. Would have never sent you guys in had we known even half of this information we do now. And now, with Tayseer in the wind, a whole lot of people high up in the government have some pretty puckered holes.”
