On the Move: Soldiering On Security #6

by Aislinn Kearns

  “Can I?”

  “Please,” he gritted out.

  She grinned and tugged his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock. Immediately, she wrapped a hand around the base and Mike’s hips jerked. His hand tightened in her hair.

  “Fuck.”

  She licked the underside of his cock, and Mike fought to hold still as lightning ran up his spine. Her tongue swirled over the tip. He was torn between closing his eyes to focus on the sensations, and keeping them open so he could sear the hottest sight known to man onto his eyeballs. He chose the latter, knowing he’d want to remember this for the rest of his life.

  Jessica sucked him deep into her mouth, and he nearly came right then. He forced himself under control as she worked him with her hand and mouth. He wanted this to last, damn it.

  But then Jessica rested her other hand on his thigh. Mike spread his legs, wondering if she was hinting. And when she cupped his balls, he knew he’d been right. There was no way he’d last if she continued this, the fire racing through his veins bringing him ever closer to the edge.

  “Enough,” he growled.

  Jessica stilled, meeting his gaze with her mouth still around his cock. She raised an eyebrow in question.

  “I need to be inside you,” he explained.

  Slowly, with obvious reluctance, she pulled back, still working him with her tongue. Mike took a deep breath and used the moment to restrain himself.

  “You’ve got a great cock,” she said, shattering his control all over again. “Almost as nice as your chest.”

  Mike laughed at her playful expression. She was doing it on purpose to push him, he knew, and he liked that side of her. Liked that she wasn’t afraid to tease him, to stand her ground, to get what she wanted.

  In fact, he liked her a whole hell of a lot.

  “Bed,” he bit out.

  Jessica stood and backed toward the bed, unbuttoning her pants as she went. Their gazes stayed locked, her eyes challenging.

  The second she reached the bedroll, she let her pants and underwear fall to the floor so she was completely naked.

  Shit, she was magnificent. Even though she’d lost some weight in the last week—enough that he was determined to feed her well once they got stateside—she was still perfect. A perfect body to go with the perfect woman.

  He strode forward, determined to be inside her immediately. But he froze halfway there.

  “Shit. Condoms.”

  He made a detour towards his pack and dug through it, desperately flinging its contents aside until he produced a condom.

  He turned to Jessica, holding it up in triumph. Her eyebrows shot up.

  “You brought condoms on a rescue mission?” she asked. “And with whom were you planning to get lucky?”

  He chuckled. “Condoms are useful for many things other than safe sex. Carrying water, and—”

  “Okay, okay,” she laughed. “Just get over here.”

  Mike strode forward and snatched her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist again, positioning his cock right near her entrance. He didn’t slide deep, though. Not without the condom.

  And not before he tasted her.

  He knelt on the bedroll and eased Jessica back until she lay against the fabric. Her legs stayed wrapped around his waist, so he gripped both her ankles and unwound them. She pouted until he shuffled back and spread her legs wide. Then, she got a wicked gleam in her eyes as she realized what he intended.

  He focused on her clit first, licking and sucking until her hips moved involuntarily with every stroke of his tongue. Her obvious pleasure shot straight to his groin. She was so free with her passions. It made him exponentially hotter knowing she was honest about how she felt.

  He inserted one finger into her, working her until he could comfortably fit two. Right as she was on the edge, her body tense with the need to orgasm, he stopped and pulled back.

  Jessica narrowed her eyes at him, a challenge and a warning. He ignored her and searched for the condom, where it must have slipped from his fingers. He found it beneath her left heel and tore open the package. Taking his time, watching her, he rolled it on and then fisted himself.

  Jessica’s eyes followed the movement with a heated expression.

  There were so many things he wanted to do with her. Things he didn’t dare think about. This was a one-time thing. A jungle fling. He had to remember that.

  He came over her, holding himself on his elbows above her. His cock settled in the cradle of her thighs, but Mike paused for a moment, staring into her eyes. There was something there, something he couldn’t quite identify. Something that made his heart thump louder.

  Her legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to move. So Mike levered up onto one arm and guided his cock into her.

  Her walls clenched around his cock and he tightened his fists as he fought for control.

  They both paused at the sensation of him being inside her, adjusting. Reveling. Shit, she felt good. Hot and tight around him. He leaned down to brush his mouth against hers, unable to resist her kiss-plumped lips. As their tongues met, Mike pulled out of her on a slow glide.

  Jessica gasped into his mouth. He flexed his hips and slid home. They both groaned in unison, the vibrations mingling between them. They were communicating in that ancient way of the bodies that needed no sound. Like naked sign language.

  He moved again, and again, Jessica moving her hips to meet his every thrust. Her hands played over his back, his chest, his ass. As if she wanted to touch every part of him she could reach.

  Their sweat-slicked skin glided against each other as he pumped into her. His chest heaved and his muscles clenched with his determination to stay in control.

  His orgasm built quickly, the base of his spine tightening in anticipation. He wouldn’t come without her. Mike balanced himself on one elbow and reached down. He found her clit with his thumb, brushing over it.

  Jessica’s back arched. Mike kept thrusting into her, faster now. His thumb didn’t stop its dance on her clit, bringing her ever closer to orgasm.

  He wished he could hear the sounds she was making. He was sure Jessica’s cries of pleasure would be like the sweetest music. But he had to settle for watching her come apart as he hit the exact right spot.

  She went rigid, her core clenching around his cock. Her head thrashed from side to side, and still he didn’t stop. Then, she came hard.

  The sensation of her squeezing his cock sent Mike over the edge. He lost control, slamming into her over and over as he came.

  His vision blacked out for a long moment, only returning to find he’d collapsed on top of Jessica.

  He rolled off her, checking to make sure he hadn’t crushed her. But she gave him a satisfied grin that kicked his heart. Smug male satisfaction welled in him. He’d pleased her. And Jesus, he couldn’t wait to do it again.

  Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed him back with a dreamy slowness, like their post-sex haze was an airborne drug that made her languid. They parted so that he could simply look at her. She was so damn beautiful.

  When sleep pulled at him, he reluctantly got up to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. He pulled on his clothes, even now unwilling to risk mosquito bites or other crawlies. He threw Jessica hers, and she dressed without complaint.

  Then, he returned to her bed and spooned around her. He didn’t care that it was too hot for that. He couldn’t not touch her.

  They were drifting to sleep when the door to the house burst open.

  Chapter 13

  It wasn’t the sound that alerted Mike, it was the way Jessica tensed in his arms. He bolted upright in time to see the door crash open and a group of men stepped through.

  Mike dived for his pack and the knife within, only to find his things still strewn across the floor from when he’d hunted for the condom.

  Shit, where was his knife? It wouldn’t do much against the men with assault rifles, but it would be something. Why the fuck h
ad he let himself get so distracted by Jessica that he’d dropped the ball this badly? He’d put them both in danger for his dick. What a fuck up.

  Jessica scrambled into a standing position. Mike gave up on the knife and followed, putting himself between her and the men. The light was low in the room. Only the moonlight through the open doorway and the thin curtain lit the space. It was enough for him to count five men, but not enough to know if they spoke.

  He hated being this vulnerable. But he set his jaw in determination. He wouldn’t let them get to Jessica, no matter what. Even if he had to die to protect her.

  A few flashlights clicked on. Mike winced against the light suddenly shining in his eyes, holding up a hand to cast shade.

  A man stepped into view, his face in shadow. He wasn’t wearing the tattered, mismatched uniform of the other rebels they’d encountered so far. No, this man was in the full military dress of the Zolgegan army. He had enough medals pinned to his chest to imply an impressive career if they were real, but Mike eyed him warily. Was this guy here to help them? Or hurt them?

  He held himself like a true career-military man, his back straight and his eyes shoulder-width apart. Mike’s eyes adjusted to the flare of the flashlights, enabling him to see a man in his fifties, with deep bronze skin and close-cropped graying hair. He was sure this was the same guy he’d seen at the airport, the one who had directed the rebels.

  “Hello,” he said, in heavily accented English, obvious by the way his mouth moved around the words. “I am General Javier Moreno of the Zolegan Rebel Army. You need to come with me.”

  Mike eyed him. It was definitely the same man from the airport. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, this man was the leader of all of the rebels. There was something about the way he stood, and talked, that implied he was the man in charge. Even if he wasn’t the true leader, he thought very highly of himself.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Mike told him. “I won’t let you use Jessica as a bargaining chip.”

  Evidence of their lovemaking still clung to the room, to his soul. He couldn’t let them take her. Not when she’d cracked open something inside his chest, something that ran deep and pure. He couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her. Not before he had a chance to tell her that she’d changed him, and for the better.

  “My boy,” Moreno said with a paternalistic sneer. “You don’t have a choice.”

  He waved his hand and the other four men stepped forward, guns raised. Mike stilled. It wasn’t the worst odds of his career. But since he was unarmed, it was pretty close. Surely they wouldn’t shoot and risk hitting Jessica? They needed her alive to extort the money from her parents. As long as she was in the line of fire, they wouldn’t fire.

  Keeping that in mind, Mike stepped forward to meet the man. Jessica stuck close to his back. Too close, if he’d need to engage in hand-to-hand combat, but she obviously had the same idea as he had about preventing the men from shooting.

  Only, when he got closer, two of the rebels dropped their assault rifles and unholstered their handguns from their waists.

  Mike’s heart thumped. The handguns would be more accurate in close quarters. They might be more willing to take risks.

  Mike couldn’t stand by and let them try.

  He leaped towards one guy, using the element of surprise to disarm him of the handgun. It reminded him that for an army, these guys were poorly trained. He sent his elbow into the man’s face, dropping him to the floor, and then quickly turned. He raised the gun to point at the next rebel in line.

  But his target was waiting for him, and used the butt of the assault rifle to come down hard on Mike’s raised arm. He grunted in pain, his grip on the gun loosening. He forced himself to recover, but his opponent was ready for him, whipping the rifle across his face.

  Mike’s head twisted painfully with the blow and he stumbled back into Jessica.

  Jessica.

  “Run,” he whispered to her.

  He couldn’t wait to find out if she obeyed him. He turned back to the rebels and raised the gun he was still holding. He let off a shot, but a rifle butt slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending his shot wide. Mike breathed through the pain and slammed his fist into the man’s face. The guy stumbled back, clutching a bloody nose. The other two men strode forward, faces pulled into menacing masks.

  Mike held up his fists, ready to fight. But his head swam, making it difficult for his eyes to focus.

  That’s why, when the butt of the rifle came sailing towards his face, he didn’t see it until it was too late.

  And his mind went black.

  Mike blinked his eyes open and immediately regretted it. His head swirled, making his stomach clench with the need to throw up.

  He got a quick glimpse of the room before he had to squeeze his eyes shut again to ward off the nausea. It was small, and built of concrete rather than the wooden structures he’d become accustomed to. They could be closer to the city, then. Either that, or this was a remote place designed specifically as a prison.

  He eased his eyes open.

  A small, barred window lit the room with pale blue moonlight. The shadow of the bars fell across him, an apt metaphor for his current situation even Mike couldn’t fail to notice.

  He was on an old mattress. The smell radiating from it was not helping his stomach settle.

  Nothing else was in the room from what he could see. There was a solid wooden door in the wall opposite him. It had a large lock, and what looked like a dog-door built into the bottom. No doubt to feed the prisoners food.

  As Mike’s nausea eased, he slowly sat up. The walls were solid concrete. The window was too small to fit through. If he was going to escape, it would have to be through that door. Was there something he could use to pick the lock?

  No. They’d stripped him of everything. He only had the clothes he’d intended to sleep in, so not even boots on his feet. Shit.

  He stood and stumbled to the door. Peering through the keyhole didn’t get him much more information. Just more gray concrete walls. Was there someone out there? A guard? Impossible to tell without hearing, unless they walked into his line of sight. Mike waited a long moment but had no such luck.

  He strode to the window instead, jumping to grasp the bars and haul himself up. They were solidly built, and wouldn’t budge without some decent tools.

  Outside the window was a small courtyard, surrounded by more buildings similar to the one he was in. There were no people around, but it was clearly late in the evening or into the early hours of the morning.

  How long had he been asleep?

  And more importantly, what had they done with Jessica in the meantime?

  She had to still be alive. She had to.

  Jesus, how could he have let this happen? It was his fault. He should have known not to go into the village, or to stay there for so long. He’d only wanted to please Jessica, but instead he’d been stupid. It was his fault she was back in the hands of the enemy. And if anything happened to her—if anything had already happened to her—it was all his fault.

  He took comfort in the fact that she was no use to them dead.

  Which begged the question, why wasn’t he dead?

  Mike understood why they hadn’t shot him at the house. Jessica had practically plastered herself to his back, and they wouldn’t have wanted to risk hurting her. But once Mike was down, he would’ve been an easy target. And they could have easily left him there, unconscious or dead, while they made their escape. Instead, they’d brought him with them.

  What the hell? What did they want with him?

  The door swung open. Mike straightened his spine as General Moreno strode in. He wouldn’t let the guy get the best of him this time.

  But the general looked in no mood to fight. His expression was pleasant as he smiled at Mike.

  Moreno indicated behind him, and a rebel soldier brought in two chairs. He placed them opposite one another, out of arms’ reach, and then took a station
by the now-closed door. Lights flickered on, bathing the room in an artificial glow.

  The general sank into the chair nearest the door and gestured to the one opposite him.

  “Please.”

  Hesitantly, Mike made his way to the chair and sat. He and Moreno stared at each other for a long moment, both waiting for the other to speak. Mike didn’t have the patience for politics today. He sat back in the chair and crossed his arms.

  “Where’s Jessica?”

  “She’s here. Safe. For now.”

  “What will you do with her?” Mike asked. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He wanted to punch the general in the face and stride out the room to find Jessica. But between the guard at the door—deceptively alert—and an unknown number of people outside the room, Mike knew that wouldn’t be the smart play.

  It grated him to stay put, but he forced himself to relax and concentrate on what Moreno might say. He didn’t want to miss anything, and he was already struggling to lip read the man’s English with his heavy accent.

  Moreno shrugged. “The same. Record a video with her saying the rescue attempt failed. Demand more money.”

  “They won’t pay,” Mike told him.

  “To get their only daughter back? I think they will. I think they’ll pay any price we ask.”

  Mike gritted his teeth. The problem was, he wasn’t convinced the general was wrong. Despite Jessica’s apparently contentious relationship with her parents, they clearly loved her. He’d seen firsthand the worry in their eyes when they’d begged him to find their only child.

  “You won’t get away with this.”

  “I think I will.”

  “She doesn’t deserve this, you know. She’s a good person.” Mike bit off the telling words too late.

  The general’s eyes sharpened. “Deserve? I’ll tell you who doesn’t deserve this. My people. They are forced to live under a corrupt rule as this country bleeds them dry for the profit of greedy men. I’m going to change that, no matter what it takes. My people deserve better.”