by Rachel Grant
The next move was hers.
The three-quarter bathroom had a square, tiled shower stall. Small, but he didn’t need luxury. All he wanted was to wash the smell of Anton’s blood from his skin. The water quickly heated, and in a matter of seconds, he was soaped from head to toe—well trained by three-minute showers at Camp Citron. Done washing in just over a minute, he stood in the hot spray, thinking of all the things he wanted to say to Savvy but didn’t know how.
He was in awe of her, the way she risked every part of herself for her job. It was a kind of patriotism that was beyond his imagining. He risked his life and his health for his country on every mission. He understood that.
But she risked her body. Risked degradation. She’d allowed herself to be objectified in addition to endangering her life. She’d exposed herself to rape and torture. And if she were caught, the US government would disavow her. No rescue would be forthcoming.
No hope. No justice.
He hadn’t quite appreciated the extent of the risks she took until he was sitting in the middle of a room with men who would use, abuse, and discard her without a second thought. And she’d walked into that room fearlessly presenting herself as a whore in order to get the job done.
He’d been such an ass to her in the months he’d known her. He’d never given her the respect she deserved. He’d openly denigrated her because her job required her to lie, manipulate, and risk others. But that was nothing compared to what she was willing to do. She asked nothing that she wouldn’t do herself.
She took a blow to the face without complaint and had thanked him for delivering it.
He’d been in lust with her for months, but now he was in awe.
The door to the bathroom opened. He froze in the hot spray. His heart rate kicked up. He held his breath and waited for her to speak, join him, or leave.
After a long moment, she said, “I changed my mind about the tea. Decided I need to shower instead. Do you want company?”
His cock thickened even faster than he could say, “Yes.”
The curtain shifted, and she stepped into the square stall, her perfect, athletic body as naked as his own. He leaned against the wall to give her room as she stood in the spray. She tilted her head back to let the water drench her hair and run down her beautiful body.
He wanted to touch her, to run his hands over her slick breasts, to cup her ass and kiss her as the steamy water rained down. The fact that she’d stepped nude into his shower was a sure sign she invited his touch, but still, he needed her permission. Direct and unequivocal.
He wanted her to want him. And not because she was reacting to a traumatic evening.
She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair, her eyes closed as hot water sluiced down her skin. Her arms and face were darker, freckled by the sun, while her breasts and torso were a pale, spotless peach.
Her eyes opened, and she held his gaze. She worked shampoo into lather in her hair, creating rivulets of bubbles that ran between her breasts or over the top, then down her belly and into the triangle of dark curls he wanted to explore with fingers and tongue.
She reached down to touch herself and his gaze snapped up to meet hers. She smiled and took a step closer to him in the already confined space. Her breasts brushed against his chest.
“Touch me. Please. I want—need—your hands on me.”
That was as direct as it could get, and he ran a hand down her side, cupping her breast briefly before sliding lower to cup her ass and pull her snug against him.
She touched him in response, running her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, circling his waist to his back. “Your body is beautiful, Cal. A work of art.”
“It’s work. I don’t know about art.”
She laughed. “A masterpiece. I love watching you work out on base. You have this intense focus. It’s the only time you’d let me look at you, because you’re blind to everything but the task at hand.”
Her words hit him in the gut. She hadn’t intended them as a blow, but he felt it just the same. “I’m sorry. I put up barriers to you because you scare me.”
Her lips twitched. “I scare a badass Special Forces soldier?” Her mouth bloomed into a full smile. “I like the sound of that.”
He picked her up, the ache in his gut relaxing a fraction. “Oh, Freya, you’re the scariest woman I’ve ever met. The first moment I met you, I wanted to possess you.”
She wrapped her legs around his hips. This time, there was nothing between them. Just her wet, slick body and his ever-thickening erection.
“You could’ve had me then. You can have me now.” She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her mouth was open and hot, her tongue taking his, offering absolution for his words and actions.
In spite of everything, she wanted him. From the way she kissed, he could believe she needed him, needed this, as much as he did.
His need was deep. Desperate. And not just for her body. Hell, he didn’t know exactly what he needed, he just wanted to sink into this moment. To lose all sense of time and place and just take in the perfection that was this woman whose last name he didn’t even know.
He kissed her, his mouth taking all she offered and more. Deep and carnal and so hot, his erection was on the diamond end of the Mohs’ scale. He raised his head and looked into her eyes. Water drops landed on her lashes, and he swiped them away so she could see. “You sure you want this, Freya?”
Her beautiful lips spread to reveal a row of white teeth with one canine slightly out of alignment. An endearing imperfection, because he only saw it when she smiled. “Make love to me, Cassius.”
His rarely used name on her lips was damn hot.
He shut off the water and stepped from the shower, not bothering with towels as he carried her to the bed.
They both needed this. Tomorrow, they’d head back to Camp Citron. Tonight, they needed to escape, this brief moment of connection when he could be Cassius, and she could be Freya.
He set her slippery, wet body on the bed and stood above her, staring, her pale skin in contrast to the colorful geometric design of the cotton blanket. For all they’d been through in the last few days, this was the first time he’d seen her fully naked. He was eager to spread her legs and see all of her.
He wanted to taste her. To touch her. To make her come hard and fast and then again slower, longer. More than anything, he wanted to connect with her—not just physically. He wanted the sharing of bodies to be the emotional connection they both needed.
She smiled, flashing that crooked tooth, and sat up, meeting him at the foot of the bed. She ran her hand down his body, pausing when she reached his erection. She licked those beautiful lips and wrapped her hands around him, stroking him from base to tip.
He watched her hands, enjoying the visual as much as the touch. Her light fingers a contrast to his dark penis. Her gaze fixed on the same place where she touched him. “So beautiful,” she murmured. She leaned forward, as if she was going to take him into her mouth.
He stopped her. “Not…now.”
She raised a brow. “You don’t like oral sex?”
He drew her body up, so they were chest to chest. “I love it. But…all the things I had to say about your mouth—I hated treating you like that. It’s one thing for me to have fantasies about a woman I’ve been attracted to for months, but another to say crude things about your lips as if it’s my right, to diminish you by crassly boasting about your ‘talents’ to assholes who use and abuse.”
She cupped his face. “You weren’t talking about me. Mani was talking about Jamie. Neither person is real. I knew it wasn’t you.”
“I’m glad. But still…tonight…this is for you. I want to give you everything. Let me worship your body as you deserve. Let me show you that I’m not that guy. The only thing I want from your mouth is to make you scream with orgasm. And to kiss you. Because I love how you taste.”
She leaned into him, her breasts meeting his chest, her arms wrapping around his n
eck, and her mouth on his. “I love the way you taste too.” She slid her tongue inside.
He met the stroke of her tongue with his own. He caressed her body, sliding his hands down her back, cupping her ass. Being skin to skin with her was better than his fantasies.
She scooted back on the bed, and he followed, his body sliding against hers. He kissed her and touched her. He was ready to explode at the feel of her hands on him. He left her mouth to kiss her breasts. Lick her nipples, suck the tips. “What do you like, Freya?” he asked.
“You.”
“But what do you want me to do? Where do you want to be touched?”
She took his hand and pulled it down to her thighs. She placed his fingers on her clit. He grinned and stroked the sensitive spot, then he followed the path of his hand with his mouth. At last, he reached the spread of her thighs. He looked his fill before dipping his head down to lick her clitoris. He took his time with it, like she was his favorite flavor of ice cream.
He felt her body release tension. She sank into the mattress, relaxing at the sensual stroke. He grazed his teeth over the bundle of nerves and she jolted as she gave a gasp of pleasure. Then he licked again as his fingers explored the rest of her, tracing her labia, spreading them and slipping a finger inside. She was wet and hot and eager for him.
He was hard and ready, but he’d only just begun exploring. His tongue moved lower, joining his fingers. He slipped inside, and she made a sound that made him even harder.
He licked her slow, long, and deep. Savoring the pleasure he gave her, enjoying the feel of her nails raking his scalp as he licked and sucked, bringing her to the edge of release. When he was certain she couldn’t take it anymore, he lifted his head and moved, his skin sliding against hers as he positioned himself to finally give them both what they needed.
His hard cock settled at her vaginal opening, and he teased her with the head. He hadn’t had sex without a condom in years and had never done so without being in a committed relationship, taking the intimacy of this moment to the next level. He watched as he played, slipping the head inside, feeling her clench and gasp, then retreating before he filled her. Teasing them both to the aching point.
He pulled back and went down on her again, stroking her clit with his tongue, then in one rapid move, he shifted and slid his cock deep inside her, going as far as she could take him in one deep, hard thrust. She groaned and gasped and clenched tight, and he was lost, buried inside this woman, finally as connected as two people could be.
He rolled so she straddled him, and he gazed up at her as she rocked, riding him, her breasts bouncing, her eyes closed. Another roll and she was beneath him again. He thrust in a slow, sensual rhythm, prolonging the buildup and ratcheting the intensity higher.
Her thighs wrapped around his hips, and she made low, soft sounds that threatened to push him over the edge. She was utterly beautiful as she shared her body with him. She took everything he gave her and panted for more.
He increased the rhythm, and she let out a soft, guttural noise as she clenched down on him. His body coiled for release, but he wouldn’t get there before she did. He slid a hand between them and stroked her clit with his thumb. She gripped his shoulders. Her pants became a whimper, then a pleasured groan as her body quivered and quaked.
No longer holding back, he stroked hard and fast. His body pulsed as orgasm rocked through him. Intense, just like everything else when it came to her.
He collapsed and rolled to the side, still inside her. He held her against him as his heart rate slowed, then he shifted while kissing her, leaving her body but remaining skin to skin. No way was he ready for space between them. He rained kisses on her face as he stroked her back.
Wearing a dreamy smile, she opened her eyes and said, “Thanks, I needed that.”
He kissed her neck. “Me too. And I’m not done. Just resting.”
She laughed even as her eyes drifted closed. “That’s good, because it’s my turn to make you feel good.”
He kissed her temple. “You already have, Freya.”
After a few minutes, he rose and cleaned up in the bathroom, then walked through the small one-bedroom house, turning off lights, making sure they were locked up tight. He grabbed the bag with their handguns and brought it into the bedroom.
Sound from the bathroom told him Savvy was in the shower again. He checked the guns, then placed one on each nightstand.
Savvy returned to the bedroom, face scrubbed of makeup and hair smelling of tea tree conditioner. They settled into the bed together. He pulled her nude body to his, spooning with her in the dark room. They lay in silence for a long time before her breathing evened out into a sleep rhythm. Cal was still wide-awake. The sex had energized him. It had been deeply intimate in a way he hadn’t expected. It had been years…maybe forever, since he’d had sex like that. It had in no way resembled the mindless screw he’d once imagined sharing with this woman.
He cared about her, more than he wanted to. And after seeing her in action on the job, what she did for a living terrified the hell out of him.
12
Sharing a bed with Sergeant First Class Cassius Callahan—after finally getting physical—was a transformative experience. Savvy watched the big, beautiful, naked man as he slept. The power had gone off at four in the morning, and they’d kicked off the covers in the increasingly hot bedroom, leaving Cal’s body exposed to her avid gaze.
Power outages were common in Tanzania, where only one-third of households had electricity at all. She and Cal had both woken at the sudden silence of the air conditioner. A quick check using her cell phone showed it was a problem with the grid and not of special concern to them. Power was expected to return to the city in eight to twelve hours. They’d gone back to sleep—after making love again in the silent darkness.
Now dawn had risen, and the bright sunrise breached the curtains and caressed his smooth chestnut skin. She’d never seen a more beautiful body. That it belonged to this soldier who was the epitome of honor and strength made her heart squeeze. She could—almost certainly would—fall in love with him. But they both knew there couldn’t be a real future for them. Not when she was SAD stationed abroad and would have more missions like this, and he was Special Forces, based at Fort Campbell but spending months at a time deployed in whatever hotspot the Army chose to send him. All they could have was now.
But she’d take now, without hesitation or regret.
For the rest of her life, she’d guard her memories of this night with him. She knew the fragility of memories, how they could be tainted or lost in a swirl of emotion. But last night had meant something deeper to him too. He didn’t need to say it for her to know it was true. A man didn’t make love like that if he didn’t care. And she would hold on to that knowledge forever, no matter what happened when this mission was behind them.
She reached out and touched him, running her hand over his chest, down his abs. His cock thickened and his mouth curved in a smile, but he didn’t open his eyes. She leaned down and licked his nipple, which puckered. His smile deepened.
She followed the path of her hand with her tongue. By the time she reached his penis, he was fully erect. She watched his handsome face as she took him in both hands and stroked the shaft. “Will you let me go down on you now?” she asked.
He made a sound low in his throat and nodded.
She leaned down to take the tip in her mouth, and his eyes popped open. She held his gaze as she ran her tongue around the head, then opened wide and took him as deep as she could. She sucked as she stroked the base. He was hard and smooth and perfect, and she loved giving him this pleasure. She ran her tongue along the shaft from base to tip, then sucked on him some more, making eye contact as she did so.
Hot brown eyes stared back at her. He threaded his fingers in her hair. “So beautiful to see your mouth on me like that, Freya. So hot.”
She released him, keeping a hand on his shaft and stroking as she said, “You shouldn’t call me that.�
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He gave a slight shake of his head as he ran a thumb over her bottom lip. “In bed, I refuse to call you anything else. You aren’t Jamie. I’m not having sex with Savvy. I’m making love with Freya, the person, not the covert operator.”
She could argue that Freya was the covert operator. Savvy was just a fake name and didn’t change who she was.
But then she remembered the real meaning behind her alias and was glad he only wanted to call her Freya as they shared their bodies. She ran her tongue over his cock again, then said, “Okay, Cassius. But only in bed.”
She went down on him again, and he wrapped his fingers in her hair. His hips thrust upward, pressing as deep as she could take him. “What’s your last name?” he asked, his voice husky as she pleasured him.
She used the excuse of having a full mouth to avoid answering. It hadn’t been her fault he’d learned her real first name, but she wouldn’t violate the oath she’d taken by revealing her last without cause.
She released him from her mouth and straddled him. He slid inside easily, sending pleasure rippling through her. She rode him, using her knees to control his thrusts. He sucked on her nipples and stroked her clit. Pleasure swirled from the points of contact, and she came hard, shuddering and groaning with the sharp, powerful orgasm.
He rolled her to her back as her body continued to pulse, and thrust into her, bringing her higher as he reached his own climax. The room was stiflingly hot with the closed windows, and they were both sweaty and smelled of sex, and she was ridiculously happy. She laughed with the joy of it.
They made a good team, in and out of bed.
He kissed her as his breathing returned to normal. “You just fulfilled a fantasy of mine.”
“What’s that?”
“Waking up to oral sex.”
She smiled. She’d been careful to make sure he was awake before she’d made that move, but it was close enough. Knowing it was a fantasy of his, she might be even bolder tomorrow, assuming they were still here.
