The Omega Team: Furiously Mine (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Base Branch Series Book 12)

by Megan Mitcham

  Natalie grabbed the handle but stalled. “I can’t follow her. She’ll recognize me at a hundred yards.” She hit the steering wheel. “You can’t follow because she’ll see the dog from a hundred yards and notice your fatigues.”

  “I’ll leave him here.” McCabe opened the door and stood.

  “But …” Behind her, the dog stood ready to escape the confines as well.

  Dixon McCabe held up a massive palm to them. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be back.”

  “What if he eats me?”

  “One less problem?” He blew her a kiss and jogged to the bank of elevators.

  McCabe’s long strides ate the distance. His broad shoulders shifted from side to side with the swing of his thick arms. When saliva pooled in Natalie’s mouth, she swallowed past it and groaned. Two more mind-altering strides and he disappeared around a corner.

  “One less problem for me too.” She sighed.

  Hair tickled Natalie’s cheek. She swooshed it away, but the hair in question didn’t move. The dog stood with his body between the front seats. Two massive paws perched on the center console and the thing stared out the window with as much longing as she’d ever known centered on the spot where McCabe had left their line of sight.

  “You’ve got it bad too, huh?”

  Two big eyes—better to see her with—Lord, she’d better not start thinking like that—remained on the spot after her comment and several uncomfortable shifts later.

  “You know, if you were human, they’d issue a restraining order against behavior like that. It’s called stalking.”

  Those eyes and long snout shifted in her direction.

  “Better to eat you with,” she breathed.

  The dog wagged bushy brows at her.

  “He’ll be back. I don’t know when.” Natalie hated not being on point or at least in his ear. What if he needed backup? From who, Renee? Not likely. He could blow her down with a high-five.

  One hundred plus pounds of hairy animal squeezed through the gap between the seats, wedged himself in the passenger side, and stared at her.

  “What? He didn’t leave me an instruction manual, and I don’t speak dog. Especially not foreign dog.”

  The stubborn thing continued to stare.

  “I can do a staredown. You’re looking at a former champion. Hilliard House. Eight kids. Strict rules about making noise.” A smile curved her lips for a second before the weight of melancholy tugged at the corners. “I had one rival for a short time. Too short.”

  Long lashes batted and his head turned to survey the exterior.

  “Ha! I win.” Natalie pumped her hands and wiggled her butt, trying her best to shake off the past. Years in the foster system taught her more than staring. It’d forced her to read people in an instant and evade just as quickly. She’d taken those lessons and left the sadness inside the plastic trash bag she’d left with to enlist.

  The dog’s long nose dropped to the glove compartment.

  “Huh? You thirsty?” There was no telling how long the poor thing had been locked in the kennel. “I don’t have a bowl.” She gnawed on her lower lip and looked around. McCabe’s bag stood on the floorboard in the back. “It came from the K-9 unit. Surely, it has a bowl. Maybe it has some food too.”

  His ears perked.

  “Let’s not get too excited yet.” Natalie grabbed the bag, let the zipper scream, and scavenged. Collapsible bowls, several packages of what she expected was dog food, and a first-aid kit filled the bag. “Now, you can celebrate.”

  She prepared each bowl with food and water. The dog wiggled and shimmied in the cramped confines, taking her celebration clearance to a surprising level. He also checked the space where they’d last seen McCabe a few times per minute…about as many times as she did.

  Stalkers. Both of them. Well, she became the only stalker for the fifty seconds it took him to inhale the food.

  A loud burp shook the confines.

  “Seriously?” Natalie turned to berate the dog, but the poor thing licked the bottom of the bowl as though it had been an appetizer and he searched for the entree. She rummaged the bag, found another portion, and gave him half. He ate more conservatively but still left no trace of the meal in his dish. “That better?”

  His small golden eyes focused on her while his head canted this way and that.

  “You trying to figure me out, pup?”

  “Good luck.” McCabe chuckled and opened the door. “I’ve been trying to do it for years.” He collapsed the bowl, stuffed it into the backpack, and slung the canvas on his back. “Come on. I got us a room.”

  Chapter 8

  “Sneaky bastard,” Natalie hissed over his shoulder while he removed Bond-like spy equipment from a secret compartment in the backpack he kept hidden in plain sight in the kennels. Her breasts pressed against his back and stroked him every time she jockeyed for a better view of his stash.

  “I knew you were snooping in my bunk.” He tried elbowing her away, but she came right back.

  “Of course, I was,” she whispered and then dipped below his arms and rounded to the other side of the nightstand for a better look.

  Her quiet voice reminded him they were in a hotel room the size of a closet with a bed just big enough to fit them both—if he laid atop her—for surveillance purposes only. One false word through the paper-thin walls and their covert op would be blown to bits. No way they could reason why they were off base together at this time of night. His gaze slid back to the bed. Then again, maybe they could.

  Pressure taunted his cock and wedged it uncomfortably between his lower abdomen and the waistband of his pants. He gritted his teeth, ignored it and the bed, and handed Natalie a wireless microphone and earpiece. If she wouldn’t stand so close, he could think more clearly.

  “Nice.” Her eyes sparkled at the gadgetry. She hurried to the wall connecting their and Renee’s room, held the mic up to the vent, and pressed the transmitter into her ear.

  With each step she took away from him, air flowed more easily through his lungs, only as long as it took his brain to register her vulnerable position. The way she stretched elongated her narrow torso. It pushed her breasts flush to the fabric of her olive shirt, revealing the outlines of soft nipples. His mouth watered with the need to coax them to razor sharp points with his tongue.

  “Nice indeed,” he mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Talking to Zeppelin.” He sat on the floor next to the dog and slowly, cautiously stroked a hand over his head.

  “Back at the wall, you seemed surprised when he obeyed your commands with the belt.” Natalie’s free hand dropped to her waist, smoothing over the expanse of her belly and hips. “By the way, where is my belt?”

  “In the dirt outside the compound. Want to go back and get it?” He didn’t. It’d be one less article of clothing to remove. No. Not remove. He couldn’t go there…because he might never leave.

  She scrunched her nose at him.

  Zeppelin levered himself onto the floor next to McCabe’s outstretched legs. “I was surprised. Still am. I’ve known him for three days. Before that, he was quarantined because of handler abuse.”

  Natalie’s upper lip curled. “What’s wrong with the guys in that unit?”

  “Like finds like. Good and bad.”

  Her ass swayed side to side as she wedged the microphone between the grates. When she turned and leveled her gaze on him, it pressed him back against the foot of the bed. She pulled the spindly chair from a tiny excuse for a dining table, turned it to face him, and sat. “It’s how we found each other.”

  “Yeah.” They’d both been loners looking for a connection. They’d found a spark, and it had soldered their souls together. No matter the circumstances, his mind, his fucking heart, everything turned to her.

  “Do you miss the Army?”

  It was their common ground. The only one they’d ever spoken of at length while the past lay in the past, waiting to destroy them. He released a long pent-up breath. “
Omega contracts keep me engaged in the world that intrigues me. I miss the dogs.”

  “It looks to me like you’ve got that one covered.” She pointed at Zeppelin who rested his big head across McCabe’s thigh.

  “Seems that way.” It looked like the dog had chosen him. Yet another piece of his life shifting into place. The boarder’s completion made the gaping hole at his center all the more noticeable, especially because the key piece stared him in the face.

  She nodded in agreement and smiled at Zeppelin.

  “Want to meet my dog?”

  “Is that a euphemism?” she choked.

  “Maybe.” He pointed at the fluffy head that nuzzled his leg. “Natalie, meet Zeppelin. Zep, Natalie.”

  The dog lifted his head and assessed the women McCabe had loved as long as he knew what it meant to love.

  Natalie scooted from the chair and dropped to her knees. Each shuffle of her knees brought them closer and pressed harder against his lungs. McCabe's sack dropped as though he’d just hit puberty. Her hand stretched to the dog’s nose.

  A giggle erupted from her pink lips. “It’s wet.”

  “Is it, now?”

  She shoved at his chest with her free hand. “The dog’s nose.”

  “Of course, it is. What’d you think I was talking about?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know which of you is the dog, but it’s nice to meet you, Zeppelin.” His dog ducked his head and nuzzled her palm. A massive grin quirked her lips. Just like him—until his tenure with the K-9 unit at Lackland—she’d probably never interacted with a dog. People who hoarded kids for money in the foster care system didn't have the compassion for pets. Dogs or cats were more mouths to feed with no return on investment. In spite of that, she liked the dog. It showed in the way her fingers dug into Zep’s thick fur and the child-like awe on her parted mouth.

  One degree at a time, he felt the hard, cold center of his soul thaw. Because he wanted to give her that level of happiness and more.

  The scents of lavender and gun oil wafted up his nose and smacked his senses down memory lane. Natalie had always been the perfect dichotomy of grace and strength. Being close to her, without putting his hands on her, drove bamboo shoots under his fingernails. For a man with a high pain threshold, it threatened to level him. He needed something to break the building tension. “What about you? Do you miss the Army?”

  And just that fast, her smile faded, and he hated that he caused its falter.

  “Base Branch contracts keep me engaged in the world that intrigues me.” She used his words on him and then scurried back to her chair.

  Adrenaline swelled his veins while blood swelled something else. “What do you miss, Natalie?”

  Silence filled the room for so long that he expected she’d never answer his question. His gaze dropped to the dog’s silver and black fur.

  “You,” she breathed.

  It was exactly what he wanted to hear, yet a hollowness rang inside. She missed him, but what was to stop the past from repeating itself?

  “We never talked about our pasts beyond being in the foster care system. Since we both experienced that special form of hell, it seemed like enough understanding. Too much, at times. Neither of us wanted to delve into the past, but when it fucks up your future…”

  “I told you about my mom,” she hollered.

  “It’s a step.”

  “It’s not an excuse for hurting you, but it’s sure as shit the reason. I’ll never be able to change that.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Shhh.” Her gaze flew to the adjoining wall. “She just referred to us as fucking hoodlums. One more outburst and I wouldn’t put it past her to knock on our door.”

  Screw the laundry lady. He couldn’t contain the emotional eruption charging his walls. He’d marginally placated his physical needs through the years. His emotions, though. He’d locked them behind a steel fortress and thrown the key into flames.

  McCabe drew a deep breath and readied to let her have every bit of his emotional explosion.

  Natalie launched from the chair and covered his mouth with her hand.

  Every bare-knuckle instinct told him to stand and fight for the release of anger and resentment he so desperately needed, but her touch, the simple skin to skin, soothed the boiling surface.

  “Quiet. She received a call on the hotel phone.” Natalie looked at the low-hung ceiling. “Pickup on the delivery is running late. She’s pissed because she needs to get back.” The narration paused. “Whatever they said has her stuttering an apology. The woman—who doesn’t know the meaning of the word—is apologizing.”

  “Telling.”

  Her finger stayed plastered across his lips, but she nodded, apparently understanding his muffled word.

  “I didn’t hear a time for the exchange, but she ended the call and is moving around on the bed. Punching pillows, it sounds like.”

  A delay could mean anywhere from ten minutes to days. Great.

  Natalie’s gaze drifted from the ceiling and leveled on him. Her touch smoothed over his mouth, across his chin, and down his neck. “Now, let me have it.”

  He wanted to give it to her, raw and dirty with her face down, screaming her orgasms into the mattress while he fucked her harder than she’d ever had it in her life, and she’d had him damn hard. Which was why he still couldn’t let her or himself have it. Not like that. Not for what might be their last time.

  “You’re wrong.” His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and he yanked her close. “You’re still wrong. You chose your path, Natalie. No one else. Kids with perfect little home lives end up crackheads or whores.” He shook his head. “There’s grit and determination inside you that can’t be contained. Not by your mother. Not by your shitty past. Not by me. Others steer you only as much as you let them. And you’ve let an excuse guide you instead of taking ownership of your own badassery.”

  Zeppelin shifted off his lap but didn’t stand or alert. He got it. Smart dog.

  McCabe threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled her away from him. “You have to decide for yourself what you want and not let fear control you.”

  Natalie’s mouth gaped and closed like an animal drowning on dry land. The devil in him let her suffer. After all, he’d suffered for nearly a decade. Yet the shimmer of tears in her eyes shattered his rage.

  “I didn’t expect you to choose me. My own mother didn’t.”

  “I’m not your mother, Natalie.”

  “Thank fuck.” She snorted. “We’d have been sickly incestuous.” Her laughter mixed with cries until he couldn’t tell them apart.

  He pulled her onto his lap. Natalie’s long legs straddled one of his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and her face buried against the side of his neck. The laughter fell away, exposing raw sorrow.

  It scraped and tore at his insides.

  “I’ve got you, Nat. I’ve got you.” McCabe buried one of his hands in her hair and cradled her nape. The other smoothed down her back.

  As much as Natalie was her own person, she was whittled and scared by her childhood. As much as he wanted her to take hold of the unstoppable woman she was, he had to come to terms with her flaws if he truly loved her.

  “I just couldn’t see how…” She growled, sat back, and slapped at her tears. “I couldn’t see how you could choose me over your career and not resent me in the long run.”

  “Love, Natalie. Just love. When you understand that, you’ll understand everything.”

  Just like that, he got it—unrelenting, unyielding love for her.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Natalie clamped her hands into tight fists and shook them. Her rosy cheeks and flushed lips called to him. The vibrant, furious woman stoked life back into his hollow veins.

  McCabe tightened his hold on her neck. He yanked her forward and dove, crashing his lips into hers. Desperate fingers gripped her hips and pulled her core flush with his throbbing erection. He crushed her mouth with unyield
ing swipes of his tongue. A moan seeped from between their lips.

  Before the haze of steamy lust consumed him whole, he released her.

  Natalie stilled inches from his mouth. Her wide eyes searched his gaze, a dogged determination in the dark eyes. Breaths whooshed from her lungs, assaulting his hungry lips.

  “It means I love you, and I’ll bare my soul a thousand times over until you love me more than you fear your past.”

  Her mouth hung.

  He leaned in and stole her lips. This conversation didn’t require an answer. After years of rage and regret, he had his answer. The hole that had plagued him for so long sewed itself together with each graze of her lips, tongue, and teeth over his bruised mouth.

  “I’m going to make you mine, Natalie.” He reached inside the waist of her fatigues and hiked her hips up for better access. “No matter how long it takes.” His fingers roved under her shirt and up the flat expanse of her stomach. The lace of her bra abraded his palms.

  “Yes,” she groaned against his lips.

  Zeppelin army crawled a safe distance away and curled up for a nap. Damn smart dog.

  Natalie’s giggle drew him back.

  “No, ma’am. The only thing I want you thinking about is the way I master your body.” He hitched her shirt to her clavicle and jerked down the cups of her bra. “You want me to master you, don’t you, Natalie?”

  “McCabe.” Her breasts bounced with her every erratic breath.

  “I know my name.” His tongue darted out, scraped the very tip of her right nipple, and withdrew. “That’s not what I asked.” A moan rumbled up his throat as he dropped his head and studied the full mounds he hadn’t enjoyed in far too long.

  “Yes,” she begged.

  His teeth gnashed across the olive skin at the side of her breast and snagged her growing nipple in his bite. Little by little, he increased the pressure. Little by little, he pulled on the pert nub. “Yes, what?”

  A thin scream launched from her lips. Her hips danced against his belly, grazing the tip of his cock. She smacked a hand over her mouth. “Renee. She heard that. She’s bitching about it.” Natalie muffled the words with one hand and held tight to his thick trap with the other.