Rescuing Casey

by Susan Stoker

  Feeling lightheaded with emotion, Casey reached up and took hold of his wrist, steadying his hand. Then she picked up her head and opened her mouth.

  Beatle’s mouth opened and he licked his lips slowly as he watched her. She could see the pulse in his neck speed up.

  She hadn’t felt a sexual attraction to him before, but now was a whole different story.

  The moment his finger entered her mouth, she closed her lips around it. Wrapping her tongue around his digit, she sucked the amazingly sweet treat from his skin.

  His pupils dilated as she stared at him. The eroticism of what she was doing wasn’t lost on her. When she thought she’d gotten all the chocolate, she tightened her lips around his finger and sucked. Hard.

  “Fuuuck,” Beatle swore, but he didn’t pull his finger out of her mouth.

  With one last swipe of her tongue, Casey finally pulled back. The arm she’d used to prop herself up was shaking, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she couldn’t hold her own body weight anymore.

  Without taking his eyes from hers, Beatle brought his finger up to his own mouth and slowly pushed it inside.

  Casey licked her lips.

  The moment was so sensual, so spontaneous, she wasn’t sure what to say or do.

  But of course, Beatle made sure she didn’t feel awkward. After he’d pulled his finger from his mouth, he said, “Now you can’t say I’m not allowed to tease you because you haven’t had chocolate in weeks.”

  She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. She was shocked at her actions, but Beatle didn’t make her feel weird about whatever was happening between them.

  “Ready for your IV?” Truck asked from behind the hammock.

  Casey startled so badly she would’ve flipped herself right off the other side, but Beatle was there to steady her. “Easy, sweetheart.”

  “Sorry! You surprised me, Truck. Yeah, I’m ready. Fill me up, Scotty.”

  Truck chuckled. “I think you have the wrong show. That’s Star Trek. I think we’re in the middle of a Die Hard movie or something.”

  “No way,” Beatle told him. “I’m thinking Rambo, or even the latest Jungle Book movie…you know, when that guy kicked ass in the jungle?”

  Casey grinned. Her brother’s teammates were funny. She hadn’t expected that. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t to be laughing hours after being rescued from a hole in the ground she thought would be her tomb.

  “We need to turn you,” Beatle said in a no-nonsense tone. “Put your head up at this end. That’s it. No, scoot up farther. More… Casey, all the way.”

  She scowled up at Beatle as he finally leaned over her and put his hands under her armpits, much like he’d done when he’d lifted her out of the hole in the ground, and manhandled her into the position he wanted.

  Her head was all the way at the top of the hammock, resting on one of the sticks he’d used to stabilize the ropes. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position, but she certainly wasn’t going to bitch. She was lying down, and it felt heavenly.

  Truck kneeled on the ground next to her and got to work cleaning her inner elbow with an alcohol pad while Beatle moved farther down and started to doctor her feet.

  Neither the needle going in her arm—third time was the charm in her case; apparently, her veins weren’t cooperating—nor the scrubbing of her feet felt great, but again, the last thing on her mind was complaining. The men were doing this to help her, not hurt her. She needed the fluids and her feet cleaned.

  So she sucked it up and simply closed her eyes, appreciating the fact she could hear the cicadas in the background, a few birds chirping, and the wind through the leaves high above their heads.

  She never realized when she fell asleep. One second she was thinking of how lucky she’d been, and the next she’d simply faded out.

  Chapter Six

  “What do you really think about her feet?” Beatle asked Truck after she fell asleep.

  “I think she’s very lucky, but they should heal remarkably fast with the antibiotics I included in her IV and after a night’s rest. Not to mention bandaging them up before putting on dry socks tomorrow.”

  They were talking in low tones so as not to wake the obviously exhausted woman in front of them.

  Beatle moved his little stool up from her feet to sit next to her. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared at her as she slept. “I don’t get it,” he mused softly. “Why not kill her outright?”

  Truck didn’t miss a beat, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “It doesn’t make sense,” he agreed. “In almost every kidnapping case we’ve worked, the women were raped, and if someone was separated from the group, they were either murdered or tortured.”

  “Right. And these assholes didn’t even ask for a ransom. So they essentially had free rein to torture and-or kill all the women.” Beatle looked up at his friend. “So why didn’t they?”

  “Technically, she was tortured,” Truck said dryly. “Throwing her into that pit then covering it with those boards wasn’t humane.”

  “But why?” Beatle asked again.

  “She’s not exactly anyone important,” Truck mused more to himself than his teammate.

  Beatle was offended on Casey’s behalf all the same. “She is important,” he countered.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Truck said, trying to mollify his friend. “All I meant is that it would make more sense to use Astrid, because as the daughter of an ambassador, she was more likely to get them whatever it was they wanted.”

  “You’re right, but they didn’t ask for anything,” Beatle said, agitated.

  “Maybe they knew Casey was the sister of a Special Forces soldier?”

  “Maybe. But I don’t think so. She didn’t mention them asking about her family or anything like that,” Beatle said, reaching out and using his index finger to brush a stray lock of dirty hair off her forehead.

  “Could it have been random? Like the villagers were out hunting and came across the women and didn’t like them in their jungle?” Truck asked.

  “It’s twenty miles to Guacalito,” Beatle said, shaking his head. “If villagers were out hunting, they likely wouldn’t have gone so close to Guacalito. It wasn’t as if the women were miles from the town. It’s even more unlikely the villagers would randomly decide to kidnap four women and bring them all the way back to their village to hold them prisoner.”

  “Not to mention, the girls said they were transported in a vehicle.”

  “Right. Speaking of which…where was it?”

  Truck shrugged. “I’d guess whoever took them hightailed it out of the area when the Huntsmen arrived, or even before that. I’d think they would’ve mentioned seeing someone fleeing in a truck otherwise.”

  Neither man said anything for several minutes.

  “Dammit,” Beatle swore. “Nothing about this makes sense.”

  Truck didn’t respond.

  “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Beatle asked his friend, staring at a sleeping Casey. “I mean, many people think women in general are weak. That they can’t handle stress. But she not only handled the situation she’d found herself in, she fucking beat it to a bloody pulp.”

  Truck chuckled. “I’d say all of our women are stronger than anyone in their lives ever gave them credit for. They’re the epitome of Delta Force wives for sure.”

  Beatle looked up at that. “Wives?”

  His friend looked discomfited for a moment, but quickly hid it. “Yeah…you know…the team’s women. Coach and Ghost aren’t married, but you know what I mean.”

  Beatle narrowed his eyes at Truck before saying, “I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “She was smart to try to keep her feet out of the water,” Truck said, motioning to Casey with his chin.

  Feeling frustrated that it seemed like his friend was keeping something from him, Beatle scowled at Truck for a minute before letting him change the subje
ct. Something was up with him. He’d been acting evasive for the last couple months. Disappearing for days at a time and not telling anyone where he’d been, more attached to his phone, and generally not being as open as to what was going on in his personal life as he used to be. The man was entitled to his privacy, but it wasn’t like Truck. Beatle worried about his friend a lot lately. He made a mental note to corner him and find out once and for all what the fuck was up when they got home.

  “She was. Blade says she earned her PhD recently. Pretty impressive for someone as young as her.”

  “In bugs, right?”

  Beatle chuckled. “Entomology. I think she’d take exception to you saying her degree was in ‘bugs.’”

  “I don’t know. She seems to have a good sense of humor. Smart, brave, strong as hell…maybe I’ll—”

  “Shut it,” Beatle told Truck, not letting him finish his thought. “She’s spoken for.”

  “By you?” Truck pushed.

  “Yes, dammit. By me.”

  “Blade might have something to say about that. She’s his little sister,” Truck warned.

  “He’s already given me his approval,” Beatle told him.

  “Really?”

  “Really. And if I had a little sister, I’d feel just like he does. I’d be fucking ecstatic if you or Blade wanted her for your own. I know you guys. I know you’d never cheat on her. You’d treat her like gold, and you’d do anything possible to protect and take care of her. Just like he knows that about me.”

  Truck didn’t respond.

  Feeling a bit defensive about his affection for the woman softly snoring on the hammock between them, Beatle said a little belligerently, “What? You think it’s too fast?”

  “Absolutely not,” Truck responded immediately. “When you know, you know. One day, one week, one year. Every relationship is different, and what works for one man doesn’t necessarily work for another. But the question is…does she feel the same?”

  Beatle looked closer at his friend. Truck was staring at Casey, but he didn’t think he was seeing her. “I don’t know what she feels. But there’s definitely an attraction on both sides. It’s not like I’m going to have sex with her in the middle of the fucking jungle. For one, she’s still way too weak and recovering. For another, she needs to deal with the psychological shit I know she’s got in her head from the kidnapping. Not to mention she currently lives in Florida and I’m in Texas.”

  “You gonna let all that stop you?” Truck asked.

  “Fuck no. I’ll give her some time and space if she needs it, but I’ll be there, however I can be, reminding her that I’m on her side. That I want to be her everything. When the time is right, it’ll be right. I won’t rush her into sex, but I’m going to make sure she knows that I want her. All of her. The last thing I want is for her to think what I feel for her is pity or friendship or a weird psychological result of this rescue. She’s going to know I want her as my woman. Just as I want to be her man.”

  Truck looked up at Beatle then. His blue eyes piercing in their intensity. “You might scare her away if you let her know straight out that she’s it for you.”

  “Bullshit,” Beatle returned. “She might not believe me at first, but I’ll show her through my actions that I’m serious. I think it’d be more confusing to be by her side, helping her get over this bump in the road, if I just acted like a concerned friend. I’ll wait for her to realize I’m it for her too, but I won’t shy away from letting her know how I feel. I’ve never felt like this for any woman before in my life. She deserves to know that. To feel it to the marrow of her bones. If she’s going to truly lean on me, let me in, she has to trust that I want to be there.”

  Beatle’s voice had risen in his passion and Casey stirred between them. He put a hand on her forehead and caressed her temple with his thumb, as he said a little softer, “The thought of her not knowing how much I care about her and wondering where I stand in our relationship would be almost as painful as the bite from one of those bullet ants she was talking about earlier.”

  Beatle looked up and saw Truck staring off into space with an introspective look on his face, and was about to ask his friend what was bothering him, when Casey moaned under his hand. When he looked down at her, her green eyes were open and staring right at him.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Not long. Go back to sleep. I’m going to get your surprise ready, but it’ll take a bit.”

  “I’m not sure I like surprises anymore,” she mumbled, obviously still half-asleep.

  His heart breaking for her, Beatle leaned in and kissed her forehead with a feather-light touch. “I’ll see what I can do about that. This will be a good surprise, sweetheart.”

  “Promise?” she asked groggily.

  “Promise.”

  “Mmm-kay.”

  And with that, she was asleep once more.

  When Beatle looked up at Truck, the focused soldier was back.

  “I’m going to do a short recon. I’ll radio the others and let them know we’ve stopped for the night and, as long as things look clear, will be here until mid-morning. Yeah?”

  “Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thanks, Truck.”

  The large man got up and straightened the vest he wore, checking to make sure his weapons were situated properly.

  “Truck?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When you get back, can you help me with my surprise for Casey?”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  Beatle told his teammate what he wanted to do, and was rewarded with a huge smile.

  “She’s gonna love that.”

  “I know.”

  Truck stared at his friend for a moment, then said, “She’s a lucky woman.”

  “No,” Beatle countered immediately. “I’m a lucky man. Even if she decides she doesn’t feel for me the way I feel about her, I’ve had the privilege of getting to know her. Of helping her get through this experience.”

  “You’re a hell of a man, Beatle. I’ll let you know when I’m back so you don’t shoot me.”

  The last was said with humor, but Beatle could tell it was forced. He didn’t say anything other than, “I’d appreciate that.”

  After Truck left, Beatle sat and watched Casey sleep for ten minutes before he forced himself to get up and start getting things ready for her surprise.

  An hour later, Truck had returned and seemed to be more himself. Beatle had everything set up. He hated to wake her, but wanted to get this done before it got dark.

  Putting a hand on her shoulder, Beatle gently jostled her. “Casey, wake up.”

  One second she was asleep, and the next she was awake and seemingly fighting for her life. She jackknifed up and swung a fist at Beatle’s face. He barely yanked his head back in time. She immediately rolled away from him and landed hard on the jungle floor. She was on her knees and crawling away before he made it around the hammock to her side.

  “Casey. Calm. It’s me, Beatle. You’re safe.”

  She obviously didn’t hear him in her panicked state, because she continued her mad scramble to get away from him. Truck moved to stand in front of her and block her retreat. When she ran headlong into his legs, she whimpered and turned onto her side, curling into a ball and covering her face and head with her arms to try to protect herself.

  Beatle felt her terror as if he was the one experiencing it. He kneeled behind her and ran his hand over the back of her head, all the time murmuring softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe, I swear. Come on, wake up now. That’s it. Take a deep breath. It’s me, Beatle. You’re here with me and Truck, you’re okay.”

  She took a shuddering breath, then another, before she slowly opened her eyes and turned to stare up at Beatle. He knew the second awareness came back because she blinked and looked confused for a second, before mortification moved in and an embarrassed flush rose up her neck into her face.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. I guess I—”

  “It’s fi
ne,” Beatle soothed, cutting off her unnecessary apology.

  “It’s not, I didn’t—”

  “I once tried to shank Truck when he woke me up on a mission,” Beatle told her without embarrassment.

  “It’s true,” Truck piped up. “There I was with this ugly-ass scar on my face, and he tried to put a matching one on the other side.”

  Casey looked up at them with wide eyes. “Really?”

  “Really,” Beatle confirmed. “We were all on edge with the mission, and poor Truck had the misfortune to be the one to wake me.” He shrugged. “It happens. Come on, let me help you up.”

  He held out a hand to her, and was relieved when she immediately placed her small hand in his. He helped her sit up and Truck helped him pick her up. He brought her back to the hammock.

  Casey looked down at the blood trickling from her inner arm and grimaced. “Looks like you get to use me as a pin cushion again,” she told Truck after seeing where she’d torn out the IV he’d so painstakingly put in earlier.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  Casey shrugged.

  “Right. I was going to suggest maybe we could leave it out, but with that underwhelming response, I think it should go back in,” Truck said.

  When she didn’t protest, Beatle knew she felt worse than she was letting on. He helped her swing her legs back up onto the hammock and once again hauled her toward the end of the swinging contraption.

  “Ready for your surprise, sweetheart?”

  “Sure.” She still sounded a bit wary.

  Beatle gestured to the containers sitting around the hammock. “We always carry a few collapsible buckets just in case. I thought you might feel better if your hair was clean.”

  Casey looked around her in confusion. “My hair?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to wash it for you.”

  Her eyes widened with eagerness and delight. “Really?”

  “Really. Although I should warn you, I haven’t done this before. I’m pretty sure I won’t be asked to work in a beauty salon anytime soon.”

  “And you’d do this for me?”

  Beatle leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. “I’d do anything for you, Case. Now, I’m going to scoot you up a bit more until your neck is resting on the sticks there. It’ll feel a little awkward at first, but Truck will make sure you’re balanced and can relax. That’ll leave your hair hanging over the edge of the hammock and the water dripping down won’t get all over your clothes. Okay?”