Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Redemption for Misty (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Pierce Securities Book 5)

by Anne Conley

  Chapter nine

  Tonight was the Chamber mixer, and Chris hadn’t said much to Misty since the night she’d had that nightmare. And that was almost a week ago. It frustrated Misty because he was nice and didn’t seem mad at all. He just wasn’t talking to her. Not really.

  There was a lot of small talk at dinner and clean-up, but that was it. And she missed him. She missed laughing with him, flirting with him, being mad at him, all of it. But now, it was like they were just roommates when she’d thought they were friends.

  Oh well.

  Like always, Misty worked her butt off to get the coffee shop open while Chris sat in his corner by the window where he could see everybody. She had just taken the last pan of muffins out of the oven when Ghost walked in.

  “Hey, Misty. How’s things?”

  It was a rare greeting from the taciturn man, but she smiled brightly in response. “Great, Ghost. How are you?”

  He walked up to the counter and slid his card across the space to her. It was blank, only a phone number on it. She flipped it over to look at the back—nothing. “I wanted to ask you a favor. I’ve been in here on a job, but I’ve gotten called away on something else.” His lowered voice told her to not ask questions, even though she suddenly had a million. “I want you to promise to call me if you have anything weird happen here, okay? Something not normal, no matter what it seems to be. A lot of chatter has come from your Wi-Fi hotspot.”

  “O-kay.” She drew out the word, hoping he would answer her unspoken questions. But he didn’t. She’d known he wouldn’t. Instead, he gestured toward Chris.

  “Your boyfriend’s in the service, isn’t he?”

  Misty was quick to correct him. “He’s just a friend, and yes. He’s former Army.”

  Ghost nodded before going over, sliding in next to Chris, and speaking to him in hushed murmurs. Misty would have gone over to eavesdrop, but she figured they were smarter than that, and she had customers to take care of. Mia wasn’t here yet, so it was all on her.

  With a sigh, she got to work.

  It was about an hour later when Saul showed up, and since it was Friday, he ordered his latte with whipped cream before sitting at the counter to stare at her out of the corner of his eye while he relished it slowly. It didn’t take Chris ten minutes before he was at the poor boy’s elbow. Ghost and his warnings must have spooked Chris, as he was tense and agitated. Misty drifted over.

  “You don’t see what this place is all about? The signs around?” Chris pointed to the new sign above his head that explained the shop’s profits went to victims of stalking and violent crimes against women. Misty’s eyes rose to the sign as she listened with growing horror at what Chris was saying. “She was attacked by a man who stalked her at the coffee shop where she worked, and if you don’t quit your mooning around, I’m going to make sure you don’t have a ball sack anymore. Shit or get off the pot, man. If you’re going to ask her out, just fucking do it. Quit sitting here and staring at her like a fucking psychopath.”

  She dropped her eyes to where Saul sat, mouth agape, as he stared at Chris. His eyes cut to Misty, who was angrier than she’d ever been, and then to the floor. The blush was creeping up his neck, mottling his skin.

  “Right,” Saul muttered before gathering his things for a hasty retreat. Customers stared. Misty had never been this embarrassed in her life.

  “Get in the back store room, right fucking now,” she seethed in a stage whisper. Then she turned to the next in line at the counter and helped customers until Mia walked in the door, Jordan and Evan in tow. “Thank God. I’ve got to go deal with something. You can handle this a minute, right?” She’d had little time to gather her thoughts; she only knew she was about to serve Chris his ass on a platter.

  Striding back into the store room off the kitchen, Misty flung open the door to find a slightly sheepish Chris standing there. Good. He’d apparently had time to think about his actions.

  “Do you have any idea what you just did?” Her finger rapped against his chest, poking the rock solid piece of flesh. “Do you?”

  “I’m sorry. I was just pissed at him doing that.” His voice was subdued, apologetic. “That’s all.”

  “That’s my story, Chris. Mine. You don’t get to run around telling everyone what happened to me.” His face paled, but she continued, “Saul was a great customer, the best. The kind who comes in every day on his morning break and sits for a half hour. Then comes back. Now, thanks to you, he’s not coming back. I just lost a customer.” She turned her back on his pathetic expression. The regret in his eyes made her feel bad, but she wanted to finish. Running her fingers through her hair, she pressed on, “What if he goes back and tells his friends there’s some guy here pissing all over any other guy who comes in? Huh? Are you going to do that, Chris? Are you going to yell at Ghost next? Or Jordan? Are you going to chase off all my regulars just because you don’t have the guts to ask me out?”

  Wait. What? Did she just say that?

  “I mean…”

  “You’re right,” he interrupted her, stepping closer. His eyes captured hers, sweeping across her face and landing on her lips. Chris opened his mouth to speak but didn’t, instead swiping his tongue across his lips. “Fuck,” he said right before he grabbed her hair and pulled her close. When his mouth was a hair’s breadth away from hers, he muttered, “Stop me.”

  Misty shook her head. “Nu-uh.” She’d been trying to come up with a way to make this happen since he’d moved in. She’d be crazy to stop it now. And then his lips were on hers in a kiss that needed, demanded, and then took. At first, she was struck numb with the feel of his mouth on hers—hot, raging hard. Then she gripped his biceps, and his lips softened. His hands in her hair tilted her head to the side and deepened the kiss, his tongue conquering the insides of her mouth.

  His hands slid down her sides and gripped her waist tightly, pulling her against the bulge in his jeans. He broke the kiss. “Do you feel this, Misty? This is yours. All fucking yours. Every time I see you all I want to do is bury this inside you.” His breath was ragged as if he’d just run a marathon. “You have all the power over me.” He tugged her against his erection, long and hard. “Over this.” He ground it into her, and she let out a whimper. She was hot, and wet, a pulsating need vibrating from deep inside her. She couldn’t speak. Even if she did speak, she probably wouldn’t recognize her voice. And then there was the whole word thing. Misty had no idea what to say. “The first chance I get, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name, Misty. That’s what I want to do to you. Need to do to you.” He dropped his head to her neck, plying her with more kisses as his hands bunched up her skirt.

  The feel of his lips on her skin sent waves of sensation rocketing through her. It was electric. She moaned, gripping him tighter. Her skin was on fire; she craved release, and his hands on her were exquisite torture. A low moan escaped her throat, but she clutched him tighter, willing him to turn his words into actions. She hadn’t been with a man since her ex, and Chris was already doing way more for her than he had, and all he was doing was kissing her. Although his talented hands were making short work of her skirt.

  “Misty, did you— Oh, shit. Sorry,” Mia had walked into the store room but backed out with a giggle when she witnessed what was going on. “My bad,” she called out as she closed the door.

  Chris’s breathing was ragged, his face buried in Misty’s neck. Each inhale dragged cool air against her heated flesh, and each hot exhale sent a wave of shivers down her spine. She felt his teeth as he smiled into her skin.

  “Later, Misty. We’re going to finish this later.” It was a promise, spoken like a threat, and Misty couldn’t wait.

  “Are you still going to the Chamber thing with me?” He nodded, his face still buried in her shoulder. “Are you going to scare off any more of my customers?”

  Still speaking into her neck, his words came out a groan, “Yeah, about that…” His arms went down around her thighs, and he
hitched her whole body up onto a shelf. “I make no guarantees.” He ground himself against her panties, his erection still in full force. “Part of me wants to fuck you right here, so you smell like me all damn day and anybody sniffing around will know you’re taken.”

  His dirty words made her weak. Nobody had ever spoken to her like that, and Misty found she liked it. A lot. She slouched against him, her lips seeking his. He laid a chaste kiss on her lips before straightening her skirt and backing away. “But you’ve got a shop to run, and I am an adult, not a randy goat, so I’ll let you get back to business.”

  Disappointment radiated from her and she didn’t even try to hide it. “So you’re going to get me all worked up and leave me like this?” she asked, her own voice no more than a whisper. His eyes gleamed wickedly at her in the dark, his hair tousled, and his own clothes disheveled.

  “Gives you something to look forward to, doesn’t it?” Motioning to the bulge in his pants, he continued, “Go on. I need to get this under control before I go back out there.”

  With a huff, she jumped down from the shelf. “Fine.” Misty couldn’t resist pressing herself against him for one last kiss, though, before she went back outside to be around people, pretending she wasn’t as turned on as she’d ever been.

  Thankfully, customer turnover at a coffee shop was quick, so there weren’t a lot of customers still there from when she’d disappeared. Except Mia gave her a knowing smile but didn’t say anything. Yet.

  Chapter ten

  Chris watched Misty work the rest of the day, her periodic looks directed at him, tempting him mercilessly. He could only assume she was reliving the stolen moments in the store room, as was he. Each time the memory passed over him, he couldn’t wait for more of her. Chris could kiss Misty until he took his dying breath, but the anticipation of more overwhelmed him.

  Ghost had been adamant about his warning about Misty’s shop, and Chris wanted to take him seriously. He kept his eyes sharp on the surroundings, but he couldn’t get his mind completely off Misty and that kiss.

  Tonight, she would belong to him.

  They were riding together now, as it seemed stupid for him to follow her around. Her scent in his car was cool. He saw all the familiarity of his ancient Mustang but with the added benefit of her smell and the occasional ponytail holder she left behind. It just reminded him of her and the fact that tonight was the night. He’d lived with her for nearly a month, impossibly earning her trust, this woman who was stronger than anybody he’d ever known. She actually wanted to be with him.

  He would make it worth everything to her. She wouldn’t regret it.

  They’d been mostly silent on the way home, and when they pulled into her driveway, Chris shut off the engine, turning to her before she could get out of the car.

  “Are you nervous about tonight?”

  “A little. There are going to be a lot of big-wigs there to network with, and I’m a little scared I’ll come off as just a barista, not a business owner.” Misty looked at her lap, picking at a hangnail.

  Chris grabbed her fingers, squeezing them in his hand, more than a little disappointed she wasn’t thinking about being with him. “You’ll do great. How could anybody think otherwise? Besides, it’ll be a stuffy thing and most people will be nervous.” He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them then returning them to his lap, where he stroked her palm. Her hands were a little rough from working and washing dishes all day, but they were softer than his, and he relished the feel of them. They were a strong woman’s hands—rough and smooth at the same time. “But I was asking about after the mixer. Are you nervous about being with me? You’re not talking about it much.”

  She blushed, a rarity for her. Sure, she flushed red when she was mad. And he’d discovered she did it when she was horny, but this side of her was one Chris hadn’t seen much of.

  “Um… Sure I’m nervous. It’s been a while for me, and… I don’t know what to expect. I wasn’t sure you weren’t talking out of the heat of the moment or something. I mean, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want.”

  Chris laughed. He couldn’t help it. She was cute when she was nervous. “That’s my line.” He tucked a stray piece of hair that had come loose from her bun behind her ear. “But yes, to answer your question, I meant every word I said earlier. And I’m looking forward to it.” Chris’s fingers led the way down her neck, touching the smooth column of skin before wrapping themselves around it and pulling her head toward him. He couldn’t kiss her lips, though, or he wouldn’t stop, so he settled for a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Now, let’s go get ready and get this over with.” As she opened her car door, he muttered to himself, “Because I can’t fucking wait.”

  ***

  Misty had been a wreck since the kiss. She was nervous about the Chamber mixer, for the reasons she’d told Chris, but honestly, she hadn’t given it two thoughts since the kiss in the store room. Now, she had sex to worry about, too.

  She showered quickly and blew out her hair, trying to tame her unruly locks. She already had an outfit picked out, since she knew she wouldn’t have a lot of time to fret over it after work today, but now with the whole Chris thing, she was second-guessing herself.

  She wanted to look nice for him. It had been before Trent since she’d wanted this with a guy. Misty couldn’t lie to herself about that. Her relationship with Trent had been so stale from the start. Misty rarely cared what Trent thought about her appearance. Now there was someone she wanted to please, and a squeal nearly erupted from her throat as she tossed the drab little black dress to the floor and dug around in the closet finding a blue chiffon, tea-length, halter-topped dress that would match Chris’s eyes. Slipping on a pair of black patent-leather heels, she declared herself ready. Misty switched everything over to a small silver clutch, added a stack of business cards, and walked out to the living room.

  Chris sat on the couch, waiting for her, and when he stood, her breath caught in her throat. She’d never seen him in dress slacks. Or a jacket. A tie hung loose around his neck. Chagrined, he walked toward her.

  “Can you tie this? I feel stupid, like I should just give up my man card or something.” His eyes grazed her from top to bottom. “Especially going out with someone like you.”

  She giggled and slipped it from his neck, wrapping it around her own. “Sure, but I can only tie them if I’m wearing them. Hang on a sec.” Making short work of his tie, Misty slipped it off and Chris ducked his head so she could put it over his head. He stared at her while she pulled it taut and straightened it. “How did you make it out of the Army without knowing how to tie a tie?” She smiled at him, trying to diffuse the tension in the room.

  “Your brother helped me out. But swear to God, if he comes up again in conversation tonight, I’m just going to shoot myself in the foot.” He looked at her for a laugh, and she complied, even though it sounded weak. “You’re fucking beautiful. I really like this dress.” His hands rested on her hips, his thumbs rubbing over the fabric slowly. Goose bumps rose on her flesh and a shock of heat made her pussy weep. This man would be the death of her.

  She gave the tie one final adjustment before patting it into place. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”

  Tugging her closer, Chris kissed her and she lost herself. The anticipation she’d felt all day let loose as soon as his lips touched hers. What he’d no doubt intended to be something innocent, she turned into something hungry. And he reciprocated with a low noise in the back of his throat. His hands started tugging as his mouth moved—his tongue sucking and swirling. Misty felt his massive hands creep around her backside, hitching her skirt up. As they explored, she slid her hands under his jacket, feeling the muscles on his back, and then going lower. His ass was hard as a rock, as she’d suspected, and as she squeezed—exploring it—she barely noticed he’d gone under her dress. But when his finger slid around the elastic of her panties, she shivered with anticipation.

  With a mix of a triumphant roar and n
eedy growl, he lifted her up and set her body on the credenza behind her. He kissed her neck while his fingers pulled her panties aside and plunged into her wet heat.

  “Oh God, Chris!” That was all she could muster as his fingers went to work, his lips branding her. Her mind was a turbulent mess—nothing but rough seas—as his touch brought her higher and higher. His hand gripped the top her dress, moving it aside for his mouth to suckle on her breast.

  Chris rolled her nipple around on his tongue as his fingers continued thrusting in and out of her. Misty was helpless to do anything. She wanted to touch him, but he was wearing too many clothes, so she just grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled.

  He was a man on a singular mission. Chris’s movements were frantic as his mouth and fingers brought her the pleasure she craved.

  When his thumb circled her clit, Misty shattered. She’d ridden the waves of the tempestuous sea, and as the waves broke, she trembled her release with quaking shudders.

  Chris raised his head, his cheeks marked with deep red slashes of color and a goofy grin on his lips as he brought his hand to his mouth and cleaned her essence off his fingers before straightening her dress.

  She attempted to smooth down his hair with a sheepish sound.

  He stood erect and smoothed his jacket before holding out his elbow to her. “Just a little something to take the edge off. You ready?”

  She could hardly speak, but she tried anyway. “But… Wh-what about you?” The bulge straining the front of his pants looked painful.

  He shrugged. “It’ll go away. I’m not nervous about the mixer. You were the one who needed that.” His smirk showed off the dimples, and holy hell, it took her breath away. Not that she’d recovered.

  On shaky legs, Misty managed to follow Chris out of the house. She wasn’t about to tell him it wasn’t the mixer she was nervous about.

  Chapter eleven

  “Jesus Christ, there’re like, five hundred people here,” Misty muttered under her breath when they walked into the ballroom of the Civic Center. Her hand tightened in Chris’s and she welcomed his grip as he squeezed back.