by Julia Sykes
Blood and flesh and bone. Mutilated bodies strewn everywhere. Pieces of what used to be people littered through the rubble.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, struggling against the memory that had triggered my PTSD. I’d served in Afghanistan as a Ranger, and I’d seen fucked up shit. I’d done fucked up shit. But the bouts of uncontrollable panic hadn’t started until the day I went to the bombsite.
I’d barely been with the Bureau for two months when I was called out to the site of the domestic terror attack. A thirty-foot radius of the Water Tower Place Mall had been obliterated, along with the people who had stood in the suicide bomber’s path. The carnage that day had brought back every horrible thing I’d ever seen or done in the line of duty.
A few weeks later, I’d been chasing down a drug dealer, working a different case as though my brain hadn’t been shattered by what I’d seen. Out of nowhere, the roar of a passing train overtook my senses, thrusting me back into a world where explosions ripped the air around me.
I’d stumbled, fallen. And broken my fucking wrist.
That’s when I was prescribed the oxycodone. It didn’t take long for me to start self-medicating to stave off the panic attacks.
That’s all over now. I’m clean. I’m going to get my life back.
My brooding was interrupted when the doors burst open, and sound swelled from the lecture hall. I tried not to jolt at the sudden burst of noise.
I took another deep breath.
Focus. I’d come here to observe the new recruits. From my position against the wall, I could watch them pass.
There were your typical clean-cut jock types. Some with more lithe runner’s bodies, others bulked up like they lifted weights every day. The women were fit, too. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be here. The rigors they’d face at Quantico were physically demanding, and trainees needed to be in peak condition to make it through.
My eyes roved over them as they streamed out the double doors, many of them practically bouncing with anticipation. They wouldn’t be so energized and eager by the time they made it through their first day.
One woman caught my gaze. Held it. She stopped in her tracks, her mouth hanging open. A few recruits bumped into her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was fully focused on me. Her cheeks, which had been rosy and flushed with pleasure just a few hours ago, had gone pale.
Natalie.
Oh, fuck.
Chapter 4
Natalie
Startlingly green eyes caught mine and held. I stopped breathing.
Jason.
He leaned casually against the wall, but there was nothing casual in the taut lines of his suit-clad body. His nostrils flared when our gazes clashed, and his jaw firmed.
Shit, shit, shit.
The curse word rang through my head over and over again in a panicked mantra, and I struggled to keep my face impassive. I’d fucked another recruit. The hottest night of my life was turning into the biggest mess of my life. It was only supposed to be one night. And although the sight of Jason walking out the motel door this morning had pained me more than I would have liked, I’d known it wasn’t practical to give him my number.
But now he was here. At Quantico. Where I was supposed to be focused solely on training to become a field agent. I didn’t need any impossibly gorgeous, domineering distractions.
Someone shoved me particularly hard as they passed me, and I realized I was in everyone’s way. We were supposed to be moving to the dorms, where we’d be assigned our roommates and get settled in before our first challenge of the day.
I squared my shoulders and resolved to face this head-on. I’d calmly explain to Jason that this was an unfortunate coincidence, but nothing more would ever happen between us.
Forcing my feet to unstick from the floor, I made my way over to him. He straightened as I approached, and my steps turned more hesitant. I’d forgotten how imposing he was when he stood at his full height. It was more than simple physical size; he owned the space around him.
Lifting my chin, I steeled my resolve and closed the rest of the distance between us.
“Jason,” I began in a clipped greeting. I tried to remain coolly collected, but the memory of screaming his name out in ecstasy only hours ago made my cheeks heat. I continued on quickly. “Listen, this is… not ideal. I guess it’s not unreasonable that we both stayed near base last night before orientation. But I want to make it clear right now that I’m here for my career, and nothing else. I’m not interested in dating another recruit.” I flushed hotter when I said dating. I hadn’t meant to sound like I’d even thought about any kind of relationship beyond a one-night stand. “Or anything else,” I amended.
His jaw ticked. He seemed angry with me. Was he really getting pissed that I was rejecting him?
“I’m not a recruit,” he said tersely.
“What? Then what are you doing here?” My confusion pushed aside my initial panic, and I noted his suit, assessing his appearance for the first time since I’d locked eyes with him. He wasn’t wearing the matching t-shirts that marked us as new recruits.
“I’m an instructor,” he bit out.
My stomach dropped. “What?” I asked, more faintly this time.
His eyes flashed. “I don’t know how to be any clearer. I’m an instructor, and you’re—” He ground his teeth together, cutting off whatever he was going to say. “You should catch up with the others.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the recruits who were headed away from the lecture hall.
“Jason, I—” I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, but he cut me off before I could get any words out.
“Go to your quarters, recruit. That’s an order.”
I gasped and took a step back. I’d enjoyed his sensual commands last night, but this cold order sent me reeling. Hurt and mortification burned through my chest. I couldn’t even begin to sort out my emotions, but my body obeyed. I turned on my heel and half-ran after my fellow recruits, anxious to put space between me and the man who’d given me more pleasure than I’d ever known in my life.
By the time I made it to the dorms, I’d managed to stop my fingers from shaking. Outwardly, my appearance was calm, controlled. Inside, I was reeling.
Jason’s here. He’s at Quantico. And he’s an instructor.
This was so much worse than if he’d been a recruit. That would have been mortifying enough, and the temptation of his nearness over the coming weeks would have tormented me. But knowing that he was one of the people I was going to have to impress if I wanted to graduate from the FBI academy made my stomach turn.
After the way I’d reacted to his nearness outside the lecture hall, I knew it was going to be impossible for my body to forget how he’d subjugated it, and how much pleasure I’d found in surrendering to him. How could he ever see me as a competent agent after I’d begged him to fuck me and called him Sir?
Fuck.
I was going to have to call him sir again, but in a completely different scenario. Would I be able to keep my core from clenching every time I used the honorific?
“Simmons.” I snapped to attention when someone barked out my surname. “You’re with Briggs.”
Shaking my head slightly to clear away my roiling thoughts, I focused on the woman who was organizing the room assignments. She gestured to a petite blonde a few recruits away from me. I smiled at the blonde—Briggs—and her pale blue eyes narrowed on me, assessing. She didn’t smile in return.
Okay, so my new roommate was the competitive type. A friendly pairing would have been a small mercy, especially given my current emotional turmoil, but I was used to hypercompetitive environments from my grad school days. I was barely fazed by Briggs’ small show of hostility.
The roommate assignments continued on for a few more minutes, and then we were allowed a small lapse in organized time so we could settle in. We’d be attending our first class in half an hour, and an excited buzz filled the long dormitory hallway as recruits broke off into con
versations. I made my way over to Briggs to introduce myself properly. She might warm to me after her initial tough-girl act.
“I’m Natalie,” I said, extending my hand for her to shake.
She briefly attempted to crush my fingers. “Elena,” she said with a harsh grin.
I gave her my best cold smile, an icy curve of my lips that didn’t reach my eyes. “It’s nice to meet you,” I said, perfectly polite, just as my mother had drilled into me. My debutante days might have felt like a waste of time, but in that moment I was grateful for the perfect bitchy poise I’d learned. Elena’s grin slipped when I squeezed her hand just as hard as she gripped mine. That trick was compliments of my dad. My mother might have wanted me to be a perfect lady, but my father had taught me how to shake hands properly.
Elena’s death grip eased, and I released her.
“Damn, I was hoping for a catfight,” a new, masculine voice interjected. “But I guess I’ll get to see you ladies go at it during combat class later.”
My cold smile dropped to a glacial blank stare as I turned my gaze on the perv who’d sidled up to us. He grinned at me, white teeth flashing against his darkly tanned skin. He looked like a golden boy football star, with a perfect smile and twinkling hazel eyes. I wasn’t remotely impressed by his appearance, considering his opening remarks.
“I’m Trent McMahon,” he introduced himself, still grinning. I pointedly glanced down at his proffered hand and didn’t extend my own.
“Elena Briggs.” My roommate warmed to him instantly, and I noticed her knuckles didn’t turn white when she gingerly shook his hand.
I suppressed a shrug and started to turn away. I’d already taken a dislike to both of them, so I had no issue with them being friendly.
Trent, however, wasn’t content to let me disengage.
He dropped Elena’s hand and grabbed my upper arm, stopping me. “Wait. I didn’t catch your name, beautiful.”
I fixed him with my deadliest stare. “My name is Natalie Simmons. And the last man who touched me without my permission got his nose broken. The only reason you’re not crying on the floor right now is that I don’t want to get kicked out on my first day at Quantico. But let me be clear: I will report you for sexual harassment if you don’t take your hand off me right now.”
His jaw dropped, and he jerked his hand away from me as though I’d burned him. But his grin was firmly back in place an instant later. “Damn, Natalie,” he chuckled. “I know not to fuck with you. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m from Texas. We’re real friendly there, is all.”
“My daddy’s from Texas,” Elena said quickly. “I totally get it. Don’t be such a bitch, Natalie.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m from North Carolina, and where I’m from, real gentlemen know to keep their hands to themselves.”
He seemed completely unfazed. “Carolina girl, huh? That’s a cute accent.”
Cute? Was this guy for real?
Elena certainly seemed to find him charming. “I’m from Florida,” she provided, although no one had asked. “Where in Texas are you from, Trent? My dad’s from Austin.”
Trent opened his mouth to answer, but I stalled him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you two get to know each other.”
I had no interest in the flirtation that was taking place. Trent was clearly a man who liked a challenge, because he seemed to have focused in on me, despite my attitude toward him. Elena couldn’t seem to stand for that. She was practically fawning over him in an effort to divert his attention from me.
I didn’t have time for stupid games. I was here to earn my place as a field agent, not flirt with other recruits. For all I knew, Trent might be making a power play to edge me out by exploiting my femininity in front of the others.
Or he could just be an entitled pretty boy who wanted what he couldn’t have.
Regardless, he didn’t have a shot with me. Having excused myself, I withdrew from the conversation and started to make my way to my first class: hand-to-hand combat.
The training room filled with hushed conversation as our class waited for the instructor to arrive. I glanced at the clock mounted on the wall above us. He only had twenty-three seconds left to arrive before he’d be officially late. As it was, we’d all been waiting for nearly ten minutes, because no one had dared to be tardy for our first lesson.
I rolled my shoulders, loosening up my muscles. I’d trained for this for two years, and I felt confident about my ability to excel in this particular area. I might be considerably smaller than most of my male counterparts, but I’d learned to use my size to my advantage. I moved faster than my larger opponents, but I knew many of my fellow recruits would have trained for this, too. It would provide a greater challenge than I was accustomed to.
The memory of my performance in the bar fight the night before helped bolster my confidence. Those men had been huge, and I’d taken them down easily. I’d been outnumbered, and things might have turned out differently if Jason hadn’t been there to assist. As it was, the adrenaline rush from the fight had only added fuel to the lustful fire that burned between the two of us, and it had led to the hottest night of my life.
As though summoned by my thoughts, the man I was fantasizing about stepped through the door. The recruits instantly fell silent. Could they feel the raw power pulsing off him as keenly as I did? Jason utterly commanded the space around him, radiating authority. No wonder he’d been selected as an instructor.
He was physically fit to teach combat, too. My mouth went dry as I watched his bulging muscles flex as he moved with fluid grace. He’d traded his sharp suit for a tight black t-shirt and track pants, and the material shaped to his perfect ass.
I remembered how firm it had been beneath my heels as I wrapped my legs around his waist and drew him deeper inside me, welcoming his cock.
I tore my gaze from him. How was I going to focus on my training when I couldn’t stop thinking about how his sweat-slicked, powerful body felt pressing mine into the mattress, trapping me with his superior strength?
“Welcome to Quantico,” his deep voice boomed out. It was clipped, professional, lacking the dark velvet caress of last night. The sharpness of his tone helped give me the courage to look up at him again. His stunning green eyes roved over the recruits. They skipped right over me, as though I wasn’t even there.
My stomach dropped as an irrational sense of rejection flooded my gut.
Don’t be stupid, I berated myself. Of course I didn’t want his special attention. I wanted him to treat me like any other recruit, to pretend nothing had happened between us. That was the only way I’d be able to get through this. My career was far more important than my infatuation.
“I’m Agent Jason Harper, and I’ll be training you in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued on, still not looking at me. “I know most of you will have experience with some form of physical combat, but it’s my job to teach you the way the Bureau does it. This isn’t boxing class at your local gym. We’ll start with the basics today. Pair up.” He barked the final order.
Everyone scurried to do his bidding. I noticed Trent making his way toward me, and I quickly turned to the first alternative person I could find. The massive man beside me was my fastest option.
“I’m Natalie,” I introduced myself with a firm handshake. “Want to partner up?”
He beamed at me, his perfect white smile contrasting with his flawless ebony skin. “Sure. I’m Nathaniel Cross,” he said, “but you can call me Nate.”
I glanced over to find that Elena had intercepted Trent, and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Maybe he’d leave me alone if she continued her efforts to win his attentions.
“Nate.” I smiled at my new partner. “Do you have any experience with hand-to-hand combat?”
His smile turned self-deprecating. “I’m afraid my experience with boxing won’t help me much, considering Harper’s introduction. What about you?”
“Two years of mixed martial arts,” I replie
d.
“Damn. Go easy on me, will you?”
I was pleased that he recognized my experience rather than assuming his brawn would do him any favors. I respected a man who recognized his own limitations and was willing to learn new skills.
“We’re just learning basics today,” I assured him. “I don’t know how much of what I know will align with the Bureau’s protocols. This is new territory for both of us.”
He tipped his head in gratitude. “That’s nice of you to say, but I overheard you putting McMahon in his place. I’m pretty sure you could break my nose if you wanted to.” He winked.
I laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. You’re not a misogynistic ass.”
“You read him that fast? You should be an analyst, not a field agent.” I could tell by the teasing tilt of his lips that he knew just as well as I did that Trent was a dick.
“I did just finish my M.A. in Psychology,” I admitted. “I’ll go wherever the Bureau chooses to place me, but I’m hoping to be in the field more often than I’m at a desk.”
“You and me both,” he agreed. “Where are you—?”
Before he could finish his question, Jason’s voice boomed out again. “Quiet,” he demanded. “You can all socialize after your lessons. If you have the energy left for conversation. This isn’t college. You’re not here to make friends. You’re here to learn to be an efficient agent. Those of you who make it to graduation, that is. Thirty percent of you won’t. Keep that in mind.”
With the cruel warning, Jason began the lesson, selecting one of the bigger men from our group to demonstrate the first basic moves we would practice. Luckily, they were familiar to me.
Nate wasn’t as fortunate. Although he was muscular and fit, he wasn’t accustomed to moving with the fluidity and speed necessary. While the moves weren’t particularly difficult, I had to consciously slow my actions to allow him to catch up.
Jason prowled around the room, pausing to critique and correct. When he neared me, I felt him more than I saw him; I was studiously focusing on Nate instead. But I couldn’t deny the magnetic pull of his presence. His deep voice rumbled through me as he assessed the sparring pair beside me.
