Hot Extraction: SEALs, Marines, and Infantry - A Military Romance Boxed Set

by Kathryn Thomas

  Ryker pulls back and smiles at Ronnie, dipping his spoon into his container and offering it to her. Ronnie doesn’t offer her lips but dips her finger into the creamy substance before slowly dragging it down between her breasts.

  Ryker watches, mesmerized, as Ronnie smears the muhallabieh between her breasts. The offer is clear. “You’re making a mess,” Ryker observes softly.

  “I know. Can you help me clean it up?”

  Ryker can almost hear his manhood go schwing as he drops his spoon in his container and sets it aside. As he turns back to Ronnie, she stops him with a gentle hand to his shoulder. “You should undress. You don’t want to get it on your clothes.”

  While Ryker begins to undress, Ronnie looks into her container. They are not large cups and she has about two bites left. Setting it aside, she moves to Ryker’s side and takes his container and looks inside.

  Even less… but it will have to do. Rolling back to her side of the bed, Ronnie removes the two spoons, seductively licks them clean for Ryker’s benefit, then sets them aside on the table. Just as Ryker rejoin her on the bed, she dumps the remainder of the lemon dessert onto her breasts and slowly smears it around with the tips of the fingers from both hands.

  She breathes deep, the lemony sweet smell of the dessert, slippery feeling on her skin, and the knowledge of what Ryker will do causing her to moan silently to herself.

  Ryker watches Ronnie smear the creamy substance on her breast. He had never given much thought to food play, but now that he thinks about it, the idea of licking Ronnie clean does have its appeal. As he moves in Ronnie takes him by the shoulders and pulls him upward, drawing his lips to hers, before sliding her hands across his back and pulling him down. He settles, following her lead, smearing the muhallabieh between them as they kiss.

  She is certain she is going to come just from the kiss. She has always liked making love in the shower, when she could, enjoying the feel of slippery skin sliding against each other, but this takes it to an entirely new level. She pushes at Ryker, guiding him down. “I’m so dirty,” she says, almost as a whimper. “Please, please, clean me up…”

  Ryker slides down and sets to work, dragging his tongue over every square inch of her chest and upper stomach, gently sucking and lapping her clean. Even though he hasn’t even touched her womanhood yet, she quivers and squirms, moaning softly. He smiles at her red-hot desires. As he makes sure her left nipple is particularly clean, he surreptitiously moves a hand to her most sensitive spot before plunging a finger into her.

  Ronnie grunts and jerks as if shocked at the swift and hard insertion of his finger. He already has her at a fever pitch and his surprise touch on her womanhood causes the orgasm lurking just out of reach to explode over her. As he finger-fucks her at a furious pace, she thrusts and heaves on the bed as her orgasm devours her, until with a gasp she falls still and begins to giggle. “You shit,” she says teasingly before giggling again and pulling him to her for a kiss as messy as her skin was.

  As they kiss, Ryker begins to move between her legs, intending on taking her, but she blocks the move with her knee. “No. Not yet,” Ronnie whispers, holding him tight.

  He relents. She is in charge of this afternoon delight and he is just following her lead. They lie together for a moment before she begins to squirm, pushing on him, trying to roll over. He holds her tight and rolls onto his back and she adjusts her position to sit astraddle of him. She looks into his face a moment then smiles, rising up and dismounting long enough to reach the other container of muhallabieh.

  Ronnie dumps the entire contents of her orange flavored dessert onto Ryker’s chest, then quickly smears it around, delighting in the feel of the slickness on his skin. She then scoops up a portion, cupping it in her hand and slides down his body before smearing the contents of her hand on his manhood. He licked her clean... it seems only fair that she do the same.

  He shudders briefly as she smears him with the muhallabieh before cleaning him with great enthusiasm. He grips the bed linens, closing his eyes as he tries to go to that place that allows him to fight off his orgasms, but she is a force of nature today, taking him so deep into her mouth she gags herself before backing off and then doing it again. “Ronnie… stop. Please stop. Ronnie… you’re going to make me come. Ronnie! Ronnie, please stop!” he begs before grunting hard and deep.

  She is out of control! When he grunts like that she knows he has had all he can take, it being the first sign he is about to climax. But she can’t stop, not now. Pulling him from her mouth with a pop, she slides up and rises up onto her knees while holding him erect. She settles slightly and, once she is sure of her aim, slams herself down on him, driving him deep into her pussy. She sits up straight, grinding her hips fiercely into him, her hands on his chest. She is going to come again, and it is going to be epic!

  Ryker allows Ronnie to grind on him. As good as it feels, and it feels damn good indeed, at least he isn’t about to come like he was when Ronnie was devouring him. But that changes in a moment when Ronnie throws herself down, her hips pumping hard and fast as she presses her breasts into his chest and kisses him savagely.

  It only takes a moment before she can feel her orgasm begin to build as she thrusts herself as hard and fast on his hardness as she can. As her orgasm begins to twist her up, she buries her face in his shoulder, holding on tightly, and begins to keen from the power of the approaching orgasm.

  “I’m going to come, Ronnie…” he mutters, gritting his teeth against the approaching storm.

  She hears him, but she can’t stop, not now, and her keening becomes louder.

  “Ronnie! I can’t hold back!” Ryker groans, his arms going around her as he grips her fiercely tight.

  “Oh God!” Ronnie mutters, nearly unable to breathe as her orgasm continues to build in power.

  Unable to hold against the pleasure she is giving him, he begins to come, and still she thrusts, pounding down on him as she hisses and mutters, driving hard for her own release. He knows she is close, but having her pound him even as he orgasms creates sensations so intense he can’t stand them. With a roar of defiance he pulls his legs up, plants his feet, and begins to thrust into her as hard and fast as he can, trying to drive Ronnie to her release before she makes his heart burst.

  The slight change in Ryker’s angle along with his growl of passion pushes her over the edge into her orgasm. She tries to rise up out of his crushing embrace but he is too strong. Pushing with every ounce of strength she has, she strains against his grip as their hips piston madly, her efforts only increasing the power of her release. As she struggles, her low groaning growl rapidly increases in volume. “Fuuuuuck!” she screams, drawing the word out as her orgasm consumes her like a wildfire.

  Then they are still, their chests heaving like bellows as they gasp for breath. Ronnie places her head on Ryker’s shoulder, too spent to even giggle. Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly come any harder, she does. She lies still for a moment, the strength flowing back into her as she catches her breath, then she giggles, low and deep.

  Ryker smiles, finally hearing the sound that make all the gut wrenching orgasms in the world worth it… the sound of Ronnie’s post-orgasmic giggle. She had nearly killed him this time, the feeling of him sliding in her wetness even as he battled his orgasm was like an electric current pouring through his body, twisting him up until he was certain he would have a heart attack. But to hear that sound, that low and sexy giggle that she only has after an orgasm… that makes it all worth it.

  “God almighty,” she mummers into his neck. “We would have woken up the entire hotel. I hope nobody heard us.”

  He smiles. “I hope everyone heard us. With the way you look… every man in the place will be jealous of me being able to give you an orgasm like that. Though I think it was mostly your doing this time.”

  “Not to mention every woman,” she replies with a soft snicker, then sighs. “And don’t sell yourself short. You helped.” She sighs again. “I should
get up… but can I lie here for just a minute?”

  Ryker doesn’t reply but tightens his embrace just a bit.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The “just a minute” actually turned into two hours as first Ronnie, then Ryker, drifted into sleep until the buzzing of Ryker’s phone pulls them back to the world of the waking. “Evans,” Ryker says drowsily, wincing as he remembers he is supposed to be Grayland.

  “Evans, this is Spreck. The information you got on Ghazi Kalif appears to be good. He is a professor at the Lebanese University with known ties to Islamic terrorists. And get this… he’s a microbiologist specializing in virology.”

  As Ronnie slides off his chest, yawning and stretching, Ryker absorbs what Spreck is saying. “He sounds like our guy. Where is the Lebanese University?”

  “Right here in Beirut.”

  “I assume that virology has something to do with viruses?”

  “That’s correct,” Spreck confirms.

  “He does sound like our guy. I supposed you want me to pay him a visit?”

  “I think a visit is in order. I will try to get a class schedule for him, but we need to move on this quickly before he has someone tip him.”

  “Understood. I’ll be ready.”

  Ryker is just about to ask Spreck if there is anything else when he begins to speak again. “Evans, I know we have put you in a tough spot. But I want to thank you for the work you have done for us. It has been outstanding. If you get tired of the Navy, you contact me. There is a spot at Central Intelligence waiting for you.”

  Ryker smiles. Maybe Spreck isn’t such a dick after all. “Thank you Mr. Spreck,” he says.

  “Be ready to move on a moment’s notice.”

  “Understood,” Ryker says as Spreck ends the call. Ryker smiles and drops the phone on the side table just as the water in the shower starts. His smile grows wider as he tumbles out of the bed and pads into the bathroom to see if Ronnie needs any help.

  Later that afternoon Ryker and Ronnie stroll through Horsh Beirut, a huge park in the center of the city. Closed to most people, the guards allow them through as tourists and they stroll among the evergreens, walking hand-in-hand.

  “It is so peaceful here,” she sighs, leaning in close. Even though they have been in the park for nearly two hours, slowly walking the paths and talking softly, they have seen only a handful of other people.

  “Hard to believe the park is still closed to the residents after so many years.”

  “I think these are the only trees I have seen since I got here. However did you find this place?” she asks.

  “Google know all,” he replies. “I didn’t know if they would let us in. I was surprised when they let us walk right by.”

  “Well, you did say it was that only those with special permits and tourists are allowed in. I think you can tell by looking at me that I’m not from around here,” she says, fluffing her auburn hair with her hand.

  Not to mention her creamy pale skin, he thinks. As they continue to stroll he admires her form once more. She is dressed in a brilliant white sundress that highlights her curves with near jaw-dropping perfection. Topped with a wide-brimmed sun hat they picked up at a local shop, she moves with an easy, confident grace that makes her more appealing still. He has already decided that if the CIA asks for her clothes back, he is buying this dress from them, if not her entire wardrobe.

  Ronnie smiles, basking in the warm sun and Ryker’s gaze. He is barely paying attention to his surroundings as they walk. Every time she looks at him he is already looking at her, a small smile on his lips that makes her heart melt. She is nearly forty, never married, and has had several long term relationships.

  But none of the men have ever looked at her the way he does. She can see the desire in his eyes, not of just the flesh, but also of the soul. When he first told her that he loved her she didn’t know what to think. She has had other say the same but they were just hollow words, spoken without meaning. But not Ryker.

  Although he has only repeated his statement of love a few times since, his face speaks volumes of his feelings for her. She tears her gaze from him once more and her smile widens. He is seducing her yet again, and he isn’t even doing anything.

  Ryker watches as she glances at him before looking down at the path again, but not before he catches a glimmer of a smile. The way she looks at him tugs at him. He has had a few women in the past, a few nearly as beautiful as Ronnie. One was his steady for more than three years until she couldn’t take the uncertainty of his career any longer and had left him. But even with her, she was just a companion.

  He cared for her, but not like he cares for Ronnie. Nothing like he cares for Ronnie. She is becoming his everything, as essential to his life as food, water, and air. He smiles and looks away, but his gaze is drawn back to her. They are going to have to talk, and soon. He has to know if this relationship is going anywhere before he is in so deep he is left with no way out.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Grayland,” Ryker says after the phone plays a happy little ditty from his pocket and he answers.

  “Evans. We’re a go on Kalif.” Hargraves’ voice comes through the phone.

  “When?”

  “Today. His last class ends at three. He normally leaves the university between four-thirty and five. That gives you less than an hour.”

  Ryker does some mental calculation. It’s going to be tight. Real tight. “Understood. But I have to move, now, Colonel, if I am going to get there.”

  “Make it happen, Evans.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Ryker thumbs the phone off. “Ronnie. We got to go. Now. Quickly,” he says, turning and walking rapidly away, pulling her along behind as she trots to catch up.

  “What happened?”

  “We’re taking Kalif today. In about fifty minutes.”

  “Can we get there in time?”

  “From here? Yes. To get the Mogle? It’s going to be close.”

  Ronnie thinks for a moment. “Do you have your…” she asks making a gun with her fingers.

  “It’s in the trunk of the car.”

  “Let’s get me a cab. It can take me back to the hotel and I will bring the Mogle. You can go there from here.”

  It’s a good plan, but with problems. “I don’t have the radios.”

  “You’ve got a cell, though. And so do I.”

  He fumes. Doing it her way would make it easier, but he’s not keen on letting her out of his sight. “Okay. We’ll do it your way,” he says, shoving down his unease. She should be fine, just another tourist. But the kidnapping attempt still plays large in his mind. “But for God’s sake, be careful!”

  “Yes dad,” she says with a smile. “Would you stop worrying about me and worry about what you are going to do?”

  Arriving at the car, she waits as Ryker pulls out his phone, doing a quick search before dialing. “Do you speak English?” he begins. “Good! I have a pickup at Horsh Beirut. Now. No. Look, there is another 100,000 pounds in it you can have a car here in less than ten minutes. That’s right, 100,000. To the Golden Tulip. Thank you. Yes, thank you very much.” He kills the call. “He said a car will be in five minutes,” he says with a grin.

  Ronnie snickers. “I guess so. Let’s see, 100,000 pounds is, what? Fifty bucks? About sixty, right?”

  “Something like that. Doesn’t matter. The CIA is paying for it and I didn’t want you standing around alone.”

  While they wait, Ryker peels off 250,000 pounds and give the money to Ronnie with a kiss. “Don’t spend it all in one place.” After pushing the money into her hand, he checks for prying eyes then moves his weapon from the trunk of the car to the passenger compartment, shielding the firearm from view with his body. He has just slammed the door shut when he hears the wail of a straining car engine.

  “Ronnie!” he says softly, snapping his fingers to catch her attention and calling her to him so the Merc will be between them and the road. “Hurry.” It’s probably the cab, but no
point in taking chances.

  As she steps around the car, an ancient, battered green Mercedes with a taxi sign on the roof skids rounds the corner. “Stay here,” Ryker says, raising his hand and stepping around the front of his own car.

  The cab screeches to a halt, rocking on worn out springs and shocks. “You called for a cab?” the driver yells through the open window.

  Ryker smile and waves Ronnie forward. “That’s right. How much to the Golden Tulip?”

  “25,000 pounds.”

  As Ronnie climbs into the back of the cab, Ryker hands 150,000 pounds through the window. “See that she gets there safe. Call me when you get there,” he adds to Ronnie in the back.