Bull (Red, Hot, & Blue)

by Cat Johnson

  Gun still out at the ready in his right hand, he used his left to move the hair that had slipped from her ponytail out of his way. He pressed his mouth right up against her ear. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not guilty now. The terrorists have taken hostages but they don’t know we’re here. We’re safe for now, but we have to be quiet and stay hidden. Do you understand?”

  She nodded and her hair tickled his cheek.

  “I’m going to untie you. You cannot make even a sound. Understand?”

  She nodded again. He untied the gag but kept his hand close to her mouth. Once he was sure she wasn’t going to try and scream again, he was free to start working on her bindings.

  He’d tied them well. Too well. In the dark it was taking some time to feel the knots and undo them.

  His head was bent low in concentration over one particularly tough knot when she raised her mouth to his ear. “Who are you?”

  “Jesus, Bull. Who the hell was that? Her voice just gave me the shivers all the way out here in the van.”

  Bull didn’t answer Matt’s nosy question. The warm air from her mouth had sent a tremor down his spine too. That combined with the fact she was pressed tightly between his legs, drove him wild, along with the scent of her… It seemed part perfume and part her.

  He put his mouth to her ear and resisted the urge to let his tongue run over it. “I’m…” What could he tell her? I’m a member of a secret elite anti-terrorist task force? Nope, couldn’t tell her the truth, that’s for sure. Just minutes before he’d thought she was a terrorist herself.

  “Homeland Security.” Matt’s solution filtered through Bull’s earpiece. He was as annoying as he was helpful at times.

  “Homeland Security,” Bull repeated softly in her ear. It was a good cover. Everyone knew of the department, but no one really understood all that they did.

  She nodded and he forced his concentration back to freeing her. Not an easy thing to do when all the blood was in his cock.

  Finally, the extension cord slipped free. She rubbed her wrists as if they hurt. Feeling bad, he searched for her feet under the hem of her skirt. Gun still out and held at the ready in his right hand, he began rubbing her ankle where she’d been bound with his left hand.

  He heard her breathing change and felt her start to shake. Even before he touched the dampness on her face, he knew she was crying.

  “Shh.” He abandoned the foot rub and pulled her closer against him. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know. I’ll protect you.” He tightened his hold around her waist.

  Damn, she was tiny. He could wrap his arm all the way around her with room to spare on the other side. He’d always dated big girls, Lana included, figuring they’d make him look smaller. After years of teasing that started way back in middle school, he’d done anything he could to look smaller. His first nickname had been Lurch. He hated that fucking name.

  He didn’t mind Bull so much. Maybe because his first commanding officer when he became an Army Ranger had given it to him. The name stuck through his time on the Delta Force, right into his days with Zeta.

  She quieted and he realized he didn’t even know her name. He was about to ask when yelling followed by another burst of gunfire filled the air. The girl between his legs yelped. He slapped his hand over her mouth and tightened his grip on his weapon.

  “I’m going to look. Stay here.” He slid out from behind her and made his way silently to the door. He peered through the keyhole. No blood, good sign. The hostages were sitting on the floor now, but no one was lying down or looking dead. The tangos weren’t in such good shape though. They seemed to be arguing among themselves. He couldn’t hear them, but they were animated enough he could tell there was dissonance in the ranks. Bull crept back to the girl.

  “The hostages are all still alive.” He’d said it more for Matt’s benefit than for hers. The announcement set off another round of shuddering from his companion.

  Shit, he probably should have used a better word than alive. It reminded her that the alternative was dead. He sat with his back against the wall and his gun hand facing toward the door. Reaching out with his left arm, he pulled her back toward him. He’d have felt better if she was sitting behind him, or better yet, hiding inside the old bathtub management had left in here from when this mansion used to be a home and this room had been a bathroom, but she wasn’t going to leave his side. He figured that out when she crawled up against him and practically curled up in a ball in his lap. She buried her head against his chest.

  It was really quiet in the room and for the first time he realized how loud her puffy skirt rustled every time she moved. Before, he had been doing the moving, but with her new fetal position in his lap, she was making a shit load of noise, even with every breath she took.

  He lowered his head to hers. “What’s your name?”

  “Marly.”

  “Okay, Marly, listen to me. Your skirt is really loud. You have to try not to move.”

  She froze except for the shaking, which got worse. He’d frightened her. He sighed and kissed her softly on the top of the head. She burrowed closer. Damn, he hated feeling helpless and he hated there wasn’t more he could do to make her feel safe. For lack of anything else to do, he wrapped his arm around her again.

  While he was toying with asking her to take the damn noisy skirt off, his body reacted in a way that had nothing to do with adrenaline this time. Pressed up against him this way, she wasn’t going to miss it either. He was a big man and he came with big parts—another reason he didn’t date small girls. He’d probably rip her apart.

  Damn, why was he thinking about this with armed gunmen and hostages in the next room? They needed to get out of there and soon. “Matt. What’s the status?”

  “Who’s Matt?”

  He put one finger over her lips.

  “Hang tight, Bull. We’re going over blueprints of the building. Don’t worry, the FBI hostage negotiator is here talking to the head tango and stalling until we get in place.”

  That was the plan? What happened to the team’s usual mode of operation? Get in, take out the bad guys and get out. Blueprints and an FBI hostage negotiator? They’d be lucky if the damn tangos didn’t blow the bomb in the meantime. This was going to take all night, and Bull had a feeling he was going to have this sweet young thing pressed up against him for the duration of it.

  Crap.

  Chapter Five

  “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Marly asked as close to his ear as she could get. She’d never been more scared in her life. She couldn’t stop shaking any more than she could leave this stranger’s side.

  He moved to press his mouth against her ear. “No, we’re not.”

  The softly spoken words and the warmth of his breath helped somehow. It calmed her in a situation where she’d given up hope of ever being calm again.

  “I don’t believe you.” It was probably horribly dangerous, but she wanted to keep him talking, for her own sanity.

  Brushing the hair away from her ear with one hand, he leaned in again. “Why not?”

  Maybe it was fear of her impending death, but she decided to tell him the complete truth. “Because you keep talking to yourself and to someone named Matt who isn’t really here. It’s nice I’m not alone, but you’re obviously crazy.”

  His body shook beneath her and she felt rather than heard him laugh. “Matt is the guy at the other end of the communicator in my ear.”

  She stiffened. That was really good news. Not just that he wasn’t a lunatic, but that the authorities were coming to help them. Then again, maybe he was crazy and making things up.

  “So they know we’re in here? The police or whoever know about the terrorists?”

  “Yes.” He hissed the word into her ear, and the warmth of his breath sent a shiver straight through her.

  She’d really like this guy to not be crazy. “Let me talk to Matt.”

  He let out another soft laugh. “Yo
u can’t.”

  Uh, huh. Just as she thought. She sighed. Oh, well. Better with a crazy guy than all alone.

  He leaned close to her ear again. “You can’t hear Matt because the communications device is implanted surgically in my ear. Like a cochlear implant. He can hear you though. He hears whatever I can.”

  Jesus, Homeland Security had some serious spy stuff going on. “Wow.”

  He leaned closer. “Matt says to tell you he thinks you’re very pretty.”

  Now she knew he was crazy. “What, can Matt see me through your ear too?”

  “No, but he popped up your FBI file on his computer.”

  “I have an FBI file?” That was news. “Why?”

  “You work a lot of high-profile events. You’ve been cleared.”

  “Wow.”

  “We shouldn’t be talking this much. They could hear.”

  If they hadn’t heard by now, chances are they wouldn’t, and she had more questions. She’d just have to ask them more quietly. She turned toward him, but he held her still. “Shh. Jeez. Stop moving. Your skirt is too loud.”

  If she got them both shot over her love of taffeta, she’d feel really shitty. She reached behind her, undid the button and the zipper, braced herself against his shoulder and stood. She rose, but the skirt remained in a giant puff on the ground. Stepping out of it, she waited for him to slide it to the side. She sat down again in between his open legs. It was close quarters, but they had to be close enough to whisper.

  “Better?”

  He swallowed loud enough for her to hear. “Yes.”

  Squashed against him, she felt pretty much every part of his body in detail, one part in particular. His adrenaline was raised again, and so were her curiosity and interest.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Bull.”

  Hmm. She had a feeling she knew how he’d gotten that name. “Do you have a girlfriend, Bull?” Might as well get to know a little bit more about him since she already knew the size and shape of his penis. Hard to miss since it was ground into her at the moment. She could swear she could feel his pulse throbbing through it.

  “No.”

  “You hesitated.” Was he lying? In light of the situation, did it matter? She shouldn’t care if this were the last man she’d ever lay eyes or hands on.

  “We broke up last night.”

  “Really?” She’d broken up with John last night too. Was this fate putting her in this horrid situation with Bull so they’d find each other? She needed to know more. “Why did you break up?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  He was the suspicious type. Probably came with the job. Fine. She could answer him with the absolute truth. “Because your hard-on is crushed against me. Since I’m pretty sure we’re going to die, I’m thinking about taking advantage of it.”

  That shut him up for a bit. He was silent except for a sharp intake of breath, until he said, “I found her naked in the hot tub with another guy.”

  “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Hell of a time for a counseling session, but Marly thought the poor guy might need to talk.

  “Besides the men in the next room with guns? Yeah. I’m fine.” Bull had a morbid sense of humor. She liked it. “What about you? Boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  She guessed fair was fair. “I broke up with him.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s a dick.” That explained it well enough. She couldn’t begin to go into all the many reasons he was a dick here and now. Maybe later. She realized she liked the thought of seeing Bull again, since he most likely wasn’t crazy.

  “Marly?” The warmth of Bull’s breath as he said her name against her ear had her chest tightening. More than that, parts lower were reacting to his closeness as well.

  “Yes?” She swallowed away the dryness in her throat. All the whispering, tightly pressed bodies and true confessions were getting her so turned on she couldn't think.

  “Were you serious?” Bull hissed the question into her ear, sending another tremor through her.

  “Yes. My ex was a total dick.” She laid her cheek against the warmth of his and enjoyed the sensation.

  “No, I mean about…” He swallowed again. “Never mind.”

  Knowing what he was asking her, she turned to face him and straddled his legs. Without the skirt, it was much easier to move and a lot less noisy. She took a deep breath and ran her hand down his chest, all the way down to the fly of his pants. She touched the bulge there.

  She leaned in and brushed her lips across his cheek on her way to his ear. “You mean was I serious about this?”

  “Yes.” A shiver ran through him, strong enough she felt it beneath her.

  “Why do you ask?” She stroked him through the coarse fabric of the tuxedo pants.

  “Because Matt just told me the bombers gave the FBI ten minutes to meet their demands or they’re going to detonate the bomb hidden somewhere in this building.”

  She stopped her hand in mid-motion. “A bomb? Here? Where is it?”

  “Shh.” He reminded her to be quiet and touched her check. “Possibly in this room.”

  “So go get it and throw it out the window.” It was an effort to keep her voice low given this news.

  Her idea seemed easy enough. Let it explode outside. The window wasn’t big enough to crawl through, but the bomb should fit. How big could it be? She leaned back from him now, wishing she could see in the dark. Maybe she could help him find the bomb.

  He reached out, cupped the back of her head and pulled her toward him. For a brief, crazy moment, she braced for his kiss, but instead he angled his head and aimed for her ear.

  “It’s not that simple. It’s buried in the walls somewhere. If they hear me tearing the wall apart looking for it, they’ll either shoot us or detonate the bomb. They’re suicidal. They don’t care if they die too.”

  “So we’re just going to sit here doing nothing and wait to blow up?”

  “No. We’re going to sit here and wait for the rest of my team to take out the terrorists, save the hostages and come get us.”

  “And what are the chances of that happening?”

  “My team will get us out of here. They’re the best there is.”

  “Bull. Please be honest with me. What are the odds?”

  He drew in a deep breath. “Eighty-twenty. Eighty percent we’ll make it out of here just fine.”

  Twenty percent that they’d be blown to bits, and who knew if he was exaggerating to make her feel better. She sat for a second and considered her life and her impending death.

  “In that case, yes. I was very serious.” Running her hands down his arms, she felt the bulge of his biceps through his tux jacket. When she reached his hands, what she felt made her pause. “You’re holding a gun?”

  “Yes.”

  Jeez. “Just don’t shoot me by accident. Okay?”

  She felt him smile. Marly was starting to not like the darkness. To hate it in fact. At first it had made her feel safe, more hidden from the men with machine guns outside the door. Now, she’d changed her mind. She wanted to at least see the threat that would kill her. But since she couldn’t, she did something better. She leaned in and closed her mouth over Bull’s.

  He drew in a sharp breath at the contact, before he parted his lips and deepened the kiss. He cupped the back of her head with his left hand. The warmth of his tongue tickled her lips then slipped into her mouth. He kissed her hard and deep until, amazed by it all, she found she had trouble breathing.

  After unbuttoning his shirt, she slid her hands inside. She felt the hardness of his chest. The warmth of his skin. The light dusting of hair. “Take off the jacket.”

  “Can’t. If they come in, the white shirt will be too visible. Black is better.”

  Good to remember. She was in nothing but black tights and a black top now. If she got out of this alive, she should start wearing black to all of her gigs in case this situation ever arose
again.

  Bull had said the terrorists had given the FBI ten minutes or they’d blow the house. She knew enough about the FBI to know they didn’t negotiate with terrorists. At least they didn’t give in to their demands. They might be able to stall and pretend to negotiate, but for how long?

  Marly nipped at Bull’s mouth and then worked her way to his ear. She did what she’d wanted to throughout all their whispering. She brushed the whorls of his ear with her tongue and felt him shudder. “Bull, make love to—”

  He grabbed her hair and covered her mouth before she could finish the request. She didn’t have to complete the thought. He knew what she wanted. She knew that from the intensity of his kiss. How he possessed her lips.

  “Dammit, Bull.” Matt’s voice was an even more unwelcome intrusion than usual. “I was trying to be polite and ignore this tête-à-tête of yours, but come on. I’m getting pretty damn tired of listening to every guy on this team get laid during ops while I’m trapped here in the van with the equipment. We’re coming to get you out. Can’t you wait? You can fuck her later.”

  Bull ignored Matt as best he could while Marly straddled his lap. He ran his free hand down her back to cup her very cute, round little ass. It struck him again how tiny she was. He wanted to whisper things to her, but Matt would hear. He really wanted to have both of his hands on her, but he had to hold the gun.

  Though if the tangos came through the door while he was sunk deep into Marly, how accurate would his aim be? The team had never practiced this particular scenario in training.

  He should be paying attention to where the tangos were and what they were doing, but he couldn’t bring himself to break away from her lips. To give up what she offered. Christ, what if they did die and this was his last moment on this earth? He’d rather be in her than pressing his face to a keyhole.

  His actions were the exact opposite of what all his training had taught him to do, yet he couldn’t stop himself. He plunged his tongue into her mouth as he thought what it would be like to plunge into her.