One Shot_The Omega Team Universe

by D. L. Jackson

  “Christ!” I bucked against him and yanked on his shirt, trying to steady myself.

  “Shhhhh,” he whispered. “We’ll have visitors.” His arm wrapped over my leg, pinning it to his shoulder, and he intensified his efforts.

  I rose on my toes and arched back. “Damn, damn, damn.”

  “Shush.”

  “I can’t. Oh, damn.”

  His tongue moved in as his fingers retreated. It moved out, and he pressed them in again, hitting just the right spot. I gasped and cried out again. He growled and increased the friction, adding a third. His mouth pulled away, but he didn’t stop. He kept fucking me till the world began to spin.

  “Come, baby.” He stared up at me. The heat in my body shot up about twenty-degrees, and I thought for sure I’d combust. His eyes had dilated like an owl's. Black. God.

  And I did. So hard, so intense. If he hadn’t had a good lock across my thigh, I’d have collapsed. I threw my head back and cried out. My pussy clamped down hard, spasming against him.

  He waited till the orgasm stopped and withdrew his hand, yanking my skirt down. “Next time, I won’t be unprepared.”

  “Next time?” My breath hitched in my throat as he stood, gliding his hands up my body and resting them on my hips.

  He raised his fingers to his mouth and sucked my juice off. “There will be a next time.”

  “You’re awful sure of yourself.”

  “I know when a woman is mine. I own you.”

  “Right.” I stepped away from him, heading for the sidewalk. “You coming?”

  “Not yet, but soon, and I’ll be thinking about you the whole time.”

  “Jack off to someone else’s image.” I stalked off. I could feel his eyes on my ass and, where they rested, heat burned through me.

  “You’ll do,” he called out from behind me, closer than I thought. “Run away, soldier girl. I love a good chase.”

  I spun around and right into him. “I’m not running. I’m going to bed. These are my barracks.”

  “Interesting they’d put you here. Need some company?”

  “I can’t have you in my room. I mean, I…I have a room alone, but…”

  “It’s a female floor?” He cocked his head to the side, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ve been on female floors before. Not a big obstacle.”

  I opened my mouth for a second and slammed it shut just as fast. I didn’t know what to say. God, the man drove me insane and made me horny as hell. “I’ve worked hard to get into this program. A romp with you in my bunk isn’t worth getting tossed out.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “Arrogant much?’”

  He raised a brow.

  “Why am I having this conversation with you?” I knew why. He was everything I should avoid, everything I craved when alone in the dark, touching myself. I backed up, and he grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

  “Because the conversation isn’t over, and neither are we.” He released me and stepped away, giving me another of his wicked grins. “I’ll see you around.”

  I nodded and ran for the barracks as fast as I could go, burning all the way. Touching myself would never fix the need pulsing through my core. I groaned when I slipped through the door. Leaving the room in the dark, I ran to the window and peeked out.

  There he stood. Staring up. He gave me a quick three finger salute with the appendages he’d screwed me with.

  “Oh hell.” I clamped my knees together, gasping to take a breath. He spun on his heel, heading in the opposite direction.

  “I told you he was a bad idea.”

  I turned around and let my eyes adjust to the dark. I knew the voice. Smitty.

  “We didn’t do anything.”

  “Liar.” She hit the lights and scanned me from head to toe. “You’ve the look of a well-pleased woman. Your skirt is sideways, and your shirt is hanging out. You screwed him, didn’t you?”

  “No. I didn’t.” Why should I have to defend myself? I didn’t owe Smitty an explanation.

  “You did something.” She narrowed her eyes on me. “Next time, lock your door before you go out. Anyone can break into your room.”

  “What—unlocked?” What? I thought for sure I’d tried the door, but maybe I hadn’t. I’d gone all the way back to the bar for my keys, and the door had been unlocked the entire time. It seemed like a huge waste. Still, I would’ve needed my keys to lock my room in the morning. If the first sergeant came through and found my door unsecured, I’d have been toast.

  “How do you think I got in?”

  “Okay, hand slapped. Are you happy?”

  “Get your head in the game, Davis.”

  “It is. I won’t see him again.” I crossed my hand over my heart. “I promise. No more yummy bad boy.”

  “Don’t screw this up for us, Paige.” She got up and walked out the door, her spine rigid, her fists clenched. The door shut behind her, and I scrambled to lock it. I thought for sure I’d secured it when I went out. But if I had, Smitty wouldn’t have been in my room when I came skulking in at…. I glanced at my watch and groaned. O one hundred hours. I collapsed on my bunk, not bothering to remove what I had on. Even taking the time to undress would cut into my sleep.

  When I closed my eyes, he floated across my vision, a sexy smile on his face, crooking his finger and daring me to take a shot. “Crap.” I rolled over, punched my pillow, and willed him out of my head. Instead, I relived the encounter by the building, and the throb between my legs came back with a vengeance. “You so fucking deserve this. You knew better.” I flipped over to my back and stared at the ceiling. I’d gone a year without sex, and when I finally had a chance, I couldn’t go all the way. He left me wanting more. His declaration came back to me. “You don’t own me.” Did he?

  Damn, I should go to sleep. But I couldn’t. He’d said sometimes it was easier to skip the sleep than catch a couple of hours and fight the exhaustion that followed. But what to do? I slid my fingers down and touched myself. Little jolts of pleasure shot through my belly. I laughed. He wouldn’t be the only one getting off on an image burned into their brain. He made great material. I slipped my fingers inside and felt a shockwave move through me. Yeah, he’d do.

  Chapter Three

  The metal trashcan rolled down the hall like an armored division. It hit the fire-escape door with an equally loud crash. I tried to open my eyes, but it seemed they were glued shut. The sleep I’d gotten wouldn’t be worth the energy it took to wake up.

  “Fall out on the pad in ten,” a male yelled at the top of his lungs as he went down the hallway, pounding hard enough on each door to knock it down. I groaned when my head echoed the booming. The sour taste of tequila from the night before clung to my tongue, and my stomach churned. Why do I want to be a sniper again? Rolling over, I finally pried my eyelids open and stared at the furious red numbers on my alarm clock.

  Oh God. Ten minutes? I’d just wasted three of them contemplating waking up. I jumped up and tightened the blankets on my bed by reaching under and tugging on the fabric through the metal webbing. Cheating, but I could get by with it this time. I eyed it, making sure it would pass inspection, tucked any blanket tails underneath, back into the springs. Pulling off the skirt and shirt from the night before, I caught a whiff of his cologne and took a pause to bury my face and inhale. My heart skipped several beats. Reluctantly, I stuffed it in my laundry bag and tugged on my physical training clothes, a gray T-shirt and shorts.

  Glancing around, I searched for where I’d left my hairbrush. Unable to locate it, I gave up and finger-combed the mess. I yanked my socks on, putting my toe through the end of one. Crap, crap, crap. Cheap damn PX sock. No time to dig out another pair. I picked up my tube of toothpaste, squirted some in my mouth, took a swig from a bottle of water in my fridge, swished it around, grabbed my toothbrush, and did my best to remove the nasty after-party taste. A quick spit into the trash, and I snagged my sneakers, cramming my feet into them while they were tied, hopp
ing to the door at the same time. I collided with Smitty in the hall, and she shot me an irritated frown. She looked as rough and tired as I felt.

  “Sorry,” I said as I locked my door. Apologizing more for keeping her up the night before than bumping her.

  We scrambled down the stairs to formation, where most were already in place. Smitty bullied her way to the front and sweet-talked a very tall soldier out of the pace position on the left corner of the formation. If I were her, I’d have done it, too. The solider who’d occupied the space towered over Smitty by at least twelve inches. Keeping pace with him on a run would be a bitch. Silently, I told myself to thank her later. I turned my head, extended my arm, and lined up off the soldier next to me then repeated the process with the soldier to the front.

  “Attention.”

  And not a second to spare. I snapped stiff as a board and waited for the big introduction.

  “Good morning, Charlie Company,” the first sergeant barked.

  “Good morning, First Sergeant,” the entire formation yelled back.

  “As you’ve noticed, we have females in the ranks.” He paced along the front of the formation and stopped in front of Smitty, giving her an up-and-down appraisal. “The Army in its infinite wisdom has decided to train them to be snipers and quarter them with infantry.” He turned and continued back the other way. “You will treat them with respect as you would any male soldier. There will be no fraternization with the female trainees. They’re here to become snipers, not get dates. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, First Sergeant!”

  “Parade rest.” We stepped out, spreading our legs and placing our arms behind us.

  “We have ten instructors who will be in charge of our female trainees and will accompany them every step of the way. I don’t care they’re here for the specialized training. If they tell you to do something, do it.”

  “Yes, First Sergeant.”

  “Staff Sergeant White.” A tall man stepped forward when he called his name. “He’s from Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Special forces. Staff Sergeant Sutton, also from Fort Bragg. Staff Sergeant Rodriguez, Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Washington—also special forces.”

  My gaze landed on the last person I’d expected to see. My heart leapt into my throat. There he stood. Tall, dark, dangerous—and now, off-limits. The first sergeant went through a half dozen more, the names blurred together, my focus remained on one. A monumental mistake.

  He’d shaved his jaw clean, and his hair was now regulation. So different from the man I’d met the night before.

  No one wouldn’t recognize him as military today. He must have felt me staring because he looked right at me, raised a brow, and then had the nerve to wink. The last thing I heard the first sergeant say was his name. “Staff Sergeant Stone is not from Bragg or Lewis. Staff Sergeant Stone is a Marine, reactivated for this assignment by the Department of Defense. Reactivated means he’s active duty, and when he tells you to do something, you do it. If you don’t, he has my permission to plant his boot in your ass. Do you understand?”

  “Hu-ah,” the formation grunted out in acknowledgement they’d heard and understood.

  No. I could not have screwed up this bad. Please tell me I’m imagining this.

  Off-Limits’ gaze swept over the formation and stopped to rest on me again. I squirmed, remembering all too well the previous night’s activities and the warning from Smitty she had a feeling getting involved with him would be trouble. Understatement. The corner of his mouth curled. Heat sparked in his eyes. My stomach clenched in response. Goddammit.

  “Staff Sergeant Stone is MARSOC, that’s Marine special ops. He holds the current record for the longest confirmed kill. It means he’s a badass. I am going to say this once: he is not a jarhead, he is a Marine. You do not fuck with him or disrespect him. He will fuck you back. Understood?”

  “Hu-ah.”

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  “Do you have something to say, Sergeant Davis?” The first sergeant homed in on me like a laser-guided missile. Damn, the man had excellent hearing. Not good. First day, bad impression. Double shit.

  “No, First Sergeant.”

  “In the infantry, we don’t talk in formation unless we’re addressed.”

  “Yes, First Sergeant.”

  “Do you think you’re special, Sergeant Davis?”

  “No, First Sergeant.”

  The next words from his mouth seemed to blast across the post. “Seems we’ve got a celebrity in our company.”

  My heart skipped several beats. How’d he know my secret? Only Smitty knew.

  He bulldozed his way through the ranks to get to me, not bothering to go around. He went nose-to-nose. His breath smelled like a mixture of Copenhagen and toothpaste. One eye looked forward, spearing straight through me, the other drifted off, staring at something to the right, almost skyward. Any other time and I might have been distracted and gawked, but the man scared the piss out of me, and it seemed to be enough to keep me in check. Still, it took all my strength not to shift my gaze to the ground. I fixed my attention on an object in the distance.

  “What are you looking at, Annie Oakley?”

  My focus returned to his face. Like tanned leather, brown, rough, and the surface resembled a topographical map. Annie Oakley? I practically sighed in relief. For now, my secret remained safe. If they knew who my father was, things would change.

  “I asked you a question, Annie.”

  “Nothing, First Sergeant.” There were a few snickers in the formation, a couple of coughs from the more discreet, and someone cleared their throat. I’d known when I put it on the application it might raise a few brows and I’d take some elbows to the ribs, but they wanted to know my skill with a weapon, and performing trick shot in a Wild West show happened to be an impressive skill. Enough to get me into the program.

  “Do I look like a nothing, Sergeant Davis?” All along, his one eye pinned me. If ever someone had an evil eye, he did. I doubted I could take much more. I swallowed and prayed for him to drop me to the front-leaning-rest position, anything to get his creepy orb off me.

  He lowered his voice until only I could hear. “I don’t care if you have tits. I don’t show favoritism. Screw up in my program, Sergeant Davis, and I’ll bury you. I told the commander females down in the infantry ranks were bad news. I didn’t want you here, and I still don’t. I’ve got my eye on you.” He pointed right in my face, and I flinched. Yes, he did. One big, ugly, scary eye. He spun around and strode back through the formation, knocking anyone in his path away. Cranky bastard.

  “Take them for a little run, Staff Sergeant Stone.” When a first sergeant says “little run,” you can bet it’s going to be painful, and there will be nothing little about it. I returned my attention to my midnight fling, and my belly cartwheeled. Oh hell.

  The first sergeant stormed back to his office, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound reverberated across the formation. For several seconds, not a sound.

  Someone coughed.

  Okay, then. My first day, and I’d already made a friend. Hu—fucking—ah.

  Staff Sergeant Stone stepped to the front of the formation. “Attention.”

  Instead of taking a position next to Smitty, the pace setter, he went in the opposite direction and moved onto the back of the formation. “Right—face.” I eyed the soldier in the new pace position, taller than the previous gazelle. I glared at Stone, hoping he felt it. The bastard did that on purpose. I ground on my teeth.

  Whatever happened, I wouldn’t fall out of this run. I couldn’t. Not after the impression I’d just made.

  “Forward—march.”

  And here we go….

  “Double time—march.”

  ***

  “Catch.” Smitty tossed the bottle of shampoo to me. I’d run out and had forgotten to get more.

  “Thanks. I owe you until I can get to the exchange.”

  Smitty waited for the other female trainees to leave the show
ers before she started in with her lecture. She nodded, looked over at me, and I knew what was coming. “You’d have it now if you actually went when you should have, instead of dragging me to the bar and into trouble.”

  Time for a rebuttal. “Smitt. It was one mistake. I won’t make it again.” I closed my eyes and stuck my face under the water, hoping to drown out what came next.

  “I told you going out the night before training started would be a bad idea. I warned you about him. ‘He’s yummy,’ she mimicked me. “‘Nothing wrong with using him for a little somethin’ somethin’.’ He’s an instructor, Paige. Do you have any idea how deep in shit you’ll sink if they find out? You haven’t learned a thing. I saw the way you were watching him. He winked, for Christ’s sakes. If I saw it, you can bet someone else did.”

  “I know, I know.” I scrubbed my hair, working my fingers through it. “I promise to be a good girl from now on. No more Staff Sergeant Yummy.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  I turned to her. “I promise.” I crossed my heart. “I’ll do my best to resist temptation.”

  “You’ve got your work cut out for you.” She grinned. “Did you see his ass in those shorts?”

  “Oi!” I laughed. “Who didn’t?” I closed my eyes and could visualize digging my nails into his backside. God, the man flipped every switch in my body. I heated up just thinking about him.

  “You’d better crank the dial to cold, girl. You’re turning red.”

  I opened one eye. “You checking me out in the shower, Smitt?”

  She laughed. “Duh. Yeah. But it still would be like doing my sister, so don’t get any ideas.”

  I threw my washcloth at her. “I’ll leave the chicks to you.”

  “I do both. I’ve told you a thousand times….”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re bi.”

  She gave me a salute and turned off the shower. As she walked by, she reached over and twisted the dial to cold. I screamed and jumped back. “Bitch.” I grabbed my towel and snapped it at her.

  She yelped and went for hers. “You can’t hide behind your towel.”