by Garren, Jax
Macho-Hauk was kinda cute.
But with a bomb and villains flitting about like hornets, she obeyed Hauk’s command. The stairs were crowded, so she jumped for the nearest hook. Coming up had been a pain in the ass; her weight made the hook swing away from the one above it. But the same condition meant coming down was a simple matter of swinging from one to the next, like monkey bars on a child’s playground or some Tarzan of Sinclair’s Jungle. She glanced once over her shoulder to see Brayden shake his head vehemently.
Brooking no argument, Hauk picked up the comparatively little guy and strapped him on like a backpack. Brayden clung tight as Hauk jumped.
Back on the ground, Jolie raced for the hole in the wall and out. Hauk put Brayden down and the two of them were just steps behind. About a football field from the compound, Hauk yelled to hit the turf. Jolie dropped and rolled. Brayden dove into a drainage ditch.
She should’ve done the same. But a heavy weight landed on her, pinning her down. Jolie had a moment to register that Hauk had dived on top of her before the bomb went off.
The factory exploded, sending brick and shrapnel careening around them. Jolie reflexively buried her head beneath her arms.
Not that she needed to. A body far larger than her own covered her from head to foot.
Heat seared around her as a second boom resounded through the desolate field. And Hauk held her down, protecting her until silence filled the yard.
Hauk was still.
Was he okay? She struggled around until she faced him.
He was breathing. Shuddering, he pulled away from her, and those pretty blue eyes—the only pretty thing about him, but dang, they were something else—searched her frantically.
“Are you hurt?” he asked at the same time as she asked, “Are you okay?”
His agile fingers, which rarely reached for anyone, searched her body as she patted down his back for new injuries. The contact felt surprisingly nice, a relief, almost. The man had already gone through a firestorm in Afghanistan, and here, knowing exactly what horrible damage a fire could do, he’d put his body between her and an explosion.
Unnerved, she smacked his shoulder. “Dumbass! You watch out for yourself. You don’t need to get burned again.”
His features crunched up in exasperation. “You don’t need to get burned at all.” He looked up. “Brayden?”
“Yo!” he called. “Atropos have cleared out. I’m headed for the car.”
Hauk took a deep breath as his body weight relaxed onto her and the fingers poking at her became a thumb gently stroking her cheek.
A gloved thumb. The notion flitted through her mind that she might like him to take his gloves off and touch her skin with his own.
She shook her head. The physically wrecked drill sergeant? No way. They were friends. Or something. And danger always led to weird lusty thoughts. Or so she’d heard.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked her again.
Ignoring her reactions to their closeness, she shifted beneath him, stretching her legs and throwing her shoulders back. Other than a rock poking into her side and the gravel stuck to her cheek, she was fine. Could’ve been a lot worse. “I’m good. You?”
“I’m fine.” But suddenly he didn’t look fine. He looked covetous as raw hunger, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since they’d first met, darkened his eyes.
Again came the gut flutter and the desire to remove those damn gloves. Oh yeah, and the memory of a kiss that had changed her definition of kissing.
Hauk had been so professional with her the last two months, so focused on training her to be an asset to The Underlight. Between her classes at The University of Texas, his day job as a metalworker and her nights at the burlesque, they’d barely had time to hang out anywhere but the training room.
But now, after near-daily contact of the most professional sort, the searing gaze he lavished on her brought a blush to her cheeks.
Danger led to weird lusty thoughts. For both of them. But it was a terrible idea to act on fleeting feelings of the moment.
* * *
Jolie had almost died. Multiple times. She could’ve been shot. She could’ve been blown up by a bomb. She could’ve been burned by fire or shredded by shrapnel. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could’ve done about any of it. In the Army he’d sent kids into battle, knowing each time that some of them weren’t coming back. It had hurt his soul every time. But not like this. Not this gut-deep sense that the world would be broken if he couldn’t bring her home safely.
These last two months, he’d trained Jolie as hard as any of his men because if she was determined to walk into danger, that was the best thing he could do to keep her alive. He’d expected to be nervous the first time he saw her in action. He hadn’t expected to be just this side of losing his mind.
But the danger was over. The Hands of Atropos had fled, the remains of the slaughterhouse smoldering in silence. Jolie was hot and soft underneath him, her freckled cheeks stained with a blush as her hands dug into his back, pulling him tight against her. And all that terror channeled itself into something else entirely.
He’d been so good. For two months he’d done his best to keep her comfortable, to train her like a professional and not like some randy kid using sparring matches as an excuse to get physical with the hot girl.
But right now he didn’t have professional in him. He wanted to stroke every part of her smooth skin and make sure it was okay, to press so close to her that they were one creature, one life force, because then he’d know she was alive and he was alive and the world was a place where life went on despite danger.
“There’s a ditch right there,” she said. “You should have gone for the ditch.”
He blinked, trying to focus on what she was saying. “What?”
“You told me I should go for a ditch. You didn’t go for the dego for itch. What kind of bad example are you?” She said it with a smile, like she was joking, trying to make light of everything.
He frowned. “I didn’t go for the ditch because you were out here in the open for every hook in the factory to spear as they came hurtling out.”
She tried to shrug, which was hard for her to do with him weighing down on her. “Well, that would serve me right, wouldn’t it? I mean, I was the one who didn’t go for the ditch. You shouldn’t have to get speared and roasted for it.”
Was she kidding? She seemed serious. What he should’ve done was not let her come on this stupid mission in the first place.
“There you go again, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. But I’m right. You shouldn’t have to protect me when I do something idiotic.” She pushed his shoulders, signaling that she wanted to get up.
He should let her go, but her new line of idiocy just made him want to hold her tighter, potentially while shaking sense into her. He settled for keeping her pinned until she made some simple agreements on the rules of sane behavior. “Look, you always get behind me, understand? If there’s danger somewhere, you put me between it and you. And if you can’t do that, I’ll do it for you.”
She frowned, her smooth skin creasing in displeasure. “Why?”
“Because that’s my job,” he ground out.
She actually rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. Your job is to protect the interests of The Underlight. Not me. I’m responsible for myself.”
Terror-turned-lust was now evolving into anger. He knew what was happening but couldn’t seem to stop his voice from rising nearly to a shout. “You are not responsible for yourself if you can’t find a stupid fucking ditch three feet away from where you landed.” He stabbed a finger to their right. “Or a man-sized pile of rubble right there. Or a group of trees right fucking there.”
She shrugged obstinately. “Newbie mistake.”
“Cherries get their heads blown off for newbie mistakes.” And the world would not be the same if her head were not happily attached to her body.
“Well,” she huffed, “I thank you for your help, but I pr
omise to find the fucking ditch or the fucking rubble or the fucking trees next time, so your self-sacrificial assistance won’t be fucking necessary.” Her voice rose with each word until she was yelling right back at him. Her eyes sparked with emotion, her breaths came in heaving puffs and her hands, which had been shoving, had somehow switched to tugging at his jacket.
That was it. He was shutting her mouth up with his own. He plowed his fingers into her hair, the way he’d wanted to every damn day for two months, and wrapped his hand around the back of her head. Her fists on his lapels pulled tighter in response, as if urging him on. It was the only signal he needed to lean in and—
“Ahem, Hauk? Jolie?” Brayden’s normally pleasant but currently nails-on-chalkboard-awful voice grated. “I hate to interrupt, but it’s colder than a snowman’s ass out here, and Travis and I would like to get home. You two can fight in the car, provided neither of you are driving.”
Hauk shot him a death look, but Brayden the timid blew a white puff of unconcerned breath into air that didn’t feel the least bit cold. Jolie wriggled, trying to get free, and reluctantly he rolled off of her, landing his ass owning hison chains that had blasted right next to them.
Dead fucking next to them. Two feet to the right, and one of them would’ve died.
“I’m driving my car,” she said, completely oblivious as she hopped to her feet. “I’m the driver. That’s my job.” She shot Hauk a narrow-lidded glare as if he’d tried to stomp on her puppy then jogged off toward the car.
Hauk scrubbed a hand across his face—his scarred face—and growled, “Brayden…”
Brayden had the nerve to laugh. “You were about to kiss her in front of a burned-out abattoir with me and Travis watching. You’ll thank me later when you’ve calmed down. You’ll get a better chance, I promise.” He turned and followed Jolie.
Hauk lay on his back and breathed, trying to get his raging emotions back under control. Brayden was wrong. He wouldn’t get a better opportunity. He was fucking ugly, and Jolie was glorious. The fact that she let him touch her at all—in the training room as they practiced fighting, which was about as impersonal as touching got—was a miracle in and of itself. Getting her to contemplate a kiss under other-than-momentous circumstances was not a long shot. It was an impossibility. Which meant he was probably a rat bastard for taking advantage of momentous circumstances.
Tonight was a fail all around.
With that cheery thought, he pushed his ass back up to standing and contemplated an hour-long car ride back to Austin with Jolie driving. The night just got better and better. He jogged to the car and slid into the front seat. From the backseat, Brayden and Travis watched them with undisguised fascination. Great.
Jolie stared ahead as he slammed the door, but her hands trembled on the steering wheel. She was royally pissed. Was he supposed to apologize? What for? If he knew, he’d probably do it. Girl drove him fucking crazy that way.
She turned to him, eyes fiery, jaw held carefully still, and said, “Thank you for protecting me. I appreciate it.”
His mouth was already open for a retort. He closed it. Opened it again and said, “Thank you for breaking us out of the freezer. I appreciate it.” Seeing as he and Brayden would be dead right now if she hadn’t.
Her eyes widened in surprise and her jaw relaxed. “No problem. I like driving, but I’m not wait-in-the-car girl.” At her command, the little car zipped forward. His heart gave an answering leap.
Of course she wasn’t wait-in-the-car girl; it was one of the things he admired about her. He was going to have to get used to seeing her in danger, even though the thought dried his mouth and filled his stomach with anvils. He forced himself to nod then forced his voice to say, “Okay.”
With another look of surprise, she resettled into her seat more comfortably. “Cool.”
He was sure glad somebody was happy with this turn of events, because this was going to drive him nuts. “Training room tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question. There was still so much she needed to know.
“Looking forward to it.”
He tried to relax into the seat of the fanciest car he’d ever been in. Jolie always had the best and most beautiful of everything. One more example of how he didn’t fit into her life.
She grinned and a little blush blotted her freckles. “Maybe we can practice finding a ditch so you don’t lf you donhave to land on top of me next time.”
Just what he needed, no reason to touch her at all. He grunted a response and shut his eyes, but he could still feel her like an electric generator sparking next to him. He wasn’t ready for her hand to land on his knee. Eyes suddenly wide, he jumped, and the seatbelt snapped him back into place.
She didn’t seem to notice, her fingers lingering on his knee. “Lemme know if I can do anything for Catrina’s event tomorrow. I know you’ll be there in case of trouble. I’m performing just after the halfway mark, but the rest of the time I’m yours if you need me.” She grinned, patted his leg twice and removed her hand back to the gear shift. “Use me as you will.”
He wished. He opened his mouth to crack a joke, like he sometimes did the rare times they saw each other out of training, but she blushed yet again (Jolie never blushed…what was up with that?) and added, “In defense of The Underlight, I mean.”
As if she had to state the obvious.
“Aww,” he said, putting enough humor in his tone that she wouldn’t take him as dead seriously as he meant it. “And here you got my hopes, among other things, up.”
She laughed in surprise then shot him a smirk that did nothing to ease the cramped quarters inside his trousers. “Usually I’m the one to cause an explosion, not stop a poor man from going off. But if you ask nicely, next time I’ll let you blow.”
Any shot at a smart comeback or rational thought was lost to the picture of a fire-cracking detonation with Jolie underneath him. The image made his head spin and body ache. They harassed each other, sure, but she didn’t normally taunt him so baldly with what he couldn’t have. “Hell, woman,” he grumbled.
“There was a first time?” Brayden piped up from the back.
Her eyes shot to the review mirror like she’d forgotten they were back there. She bit her lip, chagrined. “Sorry. My mouth got away from me.”
Hauk dragged his eyes off of her to stare out the window at dead plants and a snowless, muck-brown winter. The cold air would do him some good. “She’s referring to the bomb, numb nut.” The words were a lie. She was referring to the first time they’d met with a thin barrier of fabric between them. He’d never told Brayden, or anyone else, that particularly fond memory.
Almost under her breath Jolie added, “You have a terrible tendency to bring out the naughty girl in me, Wesley dearest.”
He had once. If only he still could now that she’d seen his face.
Chapter Two
Sweaty bodies, heavy breathing, one man, one woman…and for two months, Hauk and Jolie had somehow kept their near-daily workouts from being awkward. Jolie had been consistently impressed with how easy Hauk was to work with. He might tease her or toss her one of his devious smiles when they ran into each other grabbing snacks in The Underlight kitchen or listening to one of the jam sessions that broke out every weekend in the common room. But in the training room, he was all business. He never got closer than he had to, never gave her a smile that was anything but friendly, never even winked at an inappropriate moment.
A moment like now, when he had an arm between her thighs and his hand gripping the base of her ass to demonstrate the proper hold for a shoulder wheel throw.
It wasn’t an impromptu lesson change after yesterday’s post-explosion moment of strangeness. No, Hauk had promised two days ago to teach her this because she’d asked him to show her something flashy amidst the oh-so-practical jabs and blocks and break-holds that made up most of their workouts. Two days ago they’d comfortably manhandled each other as they sparred, and she’d not given a second thought to where Hauk’s hands were
or might be in the future. Hell, Jolie had studied ballet from the ages of four to seventeen, and pas de deux, partner dancing, had been her favorite class. She was used to having men’s hands all over her person in impersonal ways.
But today she couldn’t seem to keep her mind on technique. Hauk had been one short breath from kissing her. And in the heat of the moment she’d been…excited by it.
“Make sure your center of gravity is secure under me or you’re going to collapse. Lift from the legs. Like this.” He tugged her arm, and she emitted a startled yelp when she found herself draped across his shoulders and up in the air. He tilted to the side and she was upside down, her face two inches from his ass.
And a very nice ass it was. She’d admired it before, in a nice-sculpture-at-the-museum sort of way. Never in a hey-look-I’m-in-bitable-range sort of way.
Apparently danger-induced, weird, lusty thoughts didn’t go away so quickly. At least for her. Hauk seemed almost insultingly fine, tossing her about like a sack of something unsexy.
“Of course, at this point,” he continued with maddening calm, “you’d drop the opponent on the ground, not hang on to him.”
As a war veteran, though, he was likely used to dealing with danger-induced, weird, lusty thoughts. He’d probably had danger-induced sex. Back before the burn scars.
Hauk the Drill Sergeant, all smooth-skinned and naked and having sex. The image made her heart pick up speed. He knew how to give a girl a rocking good time; she had personal experience of that. It was one of many reasons why her quip yesterday had crossed the line.
He put her back on the ground, and she concentrated to keep her knees steady. Memories trembled through her of how they’d first met on either side of the thin curtain of her changing station at the burlesque. How his mouth was firm and fingers teasing as they brought her to the most incredible orgasm of her life. All he’d asked for in return was a kiss.
