She smiled up sheepishly. “I thought you’d be pissed.”
Cry Baby looked over his shoulder to Wolf. “She thinks we don’t know about Good SEAL, Bad SEAL.”
“Or maybe she thought we’d have gone in there and punched him until he answered?” Wolf asked.
“Nah, she thinks we’re unsophisticated cave men, so maybe waterboarding? That’s illegal, by the way. Just saying,” Mozart told her.
She tucked her face into Cry Baby’s chest and took the ribbing. She should have thought better of the SEALs. Of course, they’d have learned about interrogation techniques and how to implement them. For the first time, she thought about how people assumed she was like Double-O-Seven when she talked about her job. Their “wealth” of knowledge about her career both irritated and belittled what she did.
“I’m sorry, fellas.”
“No worries. It pretty much happens between spooks and rooks, you know?” Cry Baby said.
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug.
“Anyway, talking about his wife seemed to get him riled up, and we now know that he had everything planned,” Cry Baby said.
“Yes. If he had it all planned then we need to look at the time around when he sent his wife back to Pakistan, and before taking credit for the attack. I guarantee, if it had to be all planned because he’d have no connection in here, that it has to be rock solid, and someone he encountered before coming in here,” Tiffany said.
“Problem is, who would be so afraid to still keep operating after he was locked up in GITMO?” Wolf asked.
“There has to be a failsafe, that if he is harmed or dies, the information will be released.”
“Which means—shit,” Heim said.
Tiffany spun his direction. “What?”
Heim looked at Cry Baby, then to Wolf before he swallowed. “Whoever it is, has access to GITMO. Abd is the healthiest detainee I’ve ever seen here, and did you see how he was detained when he tried to kick you?”
“They stopped him from attacking, sure.”
“Yeah, and didn’t hurt him, at all. They protected you, but they also protected him.”
*
The air was stale when they climbed into the appointed tents they’d stay in.
What they’d realized moments before leaving the interrogation rooms spooked them all. A terrorist was protected by military personnel, and his actions orchestrated the deaths of many. The bitter taste of betrayal twisted through her. Since being around the SEALs she’d come to know the comradery and closeness they had. Even their Commanding Officer, who couldn’t lift the ban on his team, fought valiantly to get them freed, despite the order he’d given them to stand down. They fought for each other, no matter what. It was unfortunate someone above their pay grade sought to break that trust.
“Hey, leave it at the door,” Cry Baby told her.
She glanced at the front flaps of the tent and tried to smile. “Not much of a door.”
“What are you talking about? These are luxury accommodations!”
“Why can’t they provide any rooms for us?” she asked.
Cry Baby sighed. “It’s part of the structure. Much harder to hide things in a tent, and the security of GITMO matters above all.”
“I guess. At least it isn’t cold. We’d freeze out here.”
“I don’t think we’d have to worry about that, but if we did, I’d warm you up.”
He pressed against her and wrapped her in his arms. She snuggled into his heat, even though the temperature outside was a balmy eighty degrees. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever lived without this, right here. The ease of acceptance, understanding, and even the ability to work together. Relationships between agents were severely frown upon, and most of the time couldn’t work. Agents tended to work in different sides of the globe on countless missions, and needed to have freedoms to completely fall into their aliases. But with Cry Baby, she found a peace she hadn’t known was out there. It almost scared her, the way they rolled from enemies to lovers in such a brief time. Just a few weeks before she wouldn’t have imagined them so far.
“You’re thinking too hard,” he said and kissed he top of her nose.
“Is this real, or are we just caught up in the freeness of it?” she asked.
He frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”
“This,” she said, gesturing at the two of them. “We’ve never been able to be with someone who can know, really know, what we do, and we love that, don’t we? We love the freedom to be ourselves, show off our skills like regular couples, and do wild things, because we’re both normal in our abnormal lives.”
“You’re saying that we’re like kids with a shiny new toy, and when the newness fades, so will we?” he asked.
His frame turned to granite and he watched her with an unblinking stare that unnerved her. “I’m saying it’s possible.”
She’d never seen free-frame movements in real-life, but she watched Cry Baby do so now. His head moved first and tilted to the right. “James?”
He ignored her. His hands curled into her shirt and he pulled her closer until her lips were just under his. He took up her world, blotted out the surroundings, and his hot breath skated over her lips. Tendrils of his air awakened her flesh it caressed, and she was locked in this moment with him.
“I’m no toy,” he whispered against her lips. “And neither are you. We’ve lived lives balancing life and death, and we don’t waste time on stupid shit like expected timelines and what’s socially acceptable. Our fucking lives aren’t socially acceptable.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he glared at her.
“I don’t want to hear anything from you, but some very specific sentences. Clear?”
She nodded, lost and holding on to him to make sense of it all.
He released one of his hands and pressed it down her body until he reached her yoga pants she’d worn to rest in for the night. The stretchy material gave way under his strength. She squeaked as he jerked them off her hips.
“Kick them off.”
Her vagina clenched with need at the sound of his voice, the roughness in his hands, and the promise in his eyes. Jesus, the man was a sex god. She did as he commanded and rubbed her sticky thighs together.
“Tell me that you belong to me,” he told her.
“I belong to you.”
He forced his hands between her legs and cupped her pussy. “Tell me this is mine.”
“It’s yours.”
She sighed against his mouth and vibrated with sensation as he stroked her labia and circled around her clit.
“Vixen?” he asked.
“Y-yes?”
“You’re going to sit on my face and ride me until you come. Then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight. And when I’m done, before you fall asleep, you’re going to tell me if we’re ever going to have to have this conversation again, roger?”
She nodded, unable to speak. He shifted until he could grip the strands of her hair and he hauled her up. The tent was larger than it appeared from the outside, and she had enough room to stand up, if she hunched a bit. Cry Baby used that space now to force her to kneel over his face, and she clapped her hands over her mouth to keeps from screaming.
“Don’t want the boys to hear you get to loud. They may come running to see what’s wrong,” Cry Baby joked. Then he sucked her clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the sensitive bud.
Pleasure swelled through her and curled back down into her groin. There was sex, even love making, and then there was this. Cry Baby devoured her, paying attention to her labia and the sensitive spot just at the front of her vagina. He memorized her folds with his mouth, and became intimately aware of her reactions. A simple twitch was all he needed to track a map of her pleasure. He gripped her hips in his big hands and forced her to stay on his face, and grind her pussy against his mouth.
And through it all, his gaze stayed locked with her.
It was intimate and powerfu
l, the way she rose above him. The way he pleased her supplication, and yet controlled her and proved his point. They were a perfect push and pull, yin and yang. She saw the beauty in what he wanted her to see, in the process of just letting them be who they were. She reached down and stroked what she could reach of his glistening cheeks.
“Okay,” she whispered, affirming.
He finally broke eye-contact with her, but the intimacy wasn’t lost. When he closed his eyes, he ate her like a starving man, nipping at her wet flesh and sucking on her clit. She tossed her head back and screamed in silence. Her throat ached and her muscles constricted as she held in the sound. Everything electrified around her, and even the glide of her hair her neck jolted her.
Yes, she praised in her thoughts. She didn’t fight the wave of emotion or pleasure and jerked her hips back and forth to ride it. His silken tongue did things to her she didn’t think possible, and her womb clenched. Desire and need grew, her groin muscles locked down hard, and then she was flying. Each of her finger tips tingled and her toes went numb, but he didn’t stop. He pressed down on her stomach, and the pleasure fell deeper. Her climax shifted, became more profound and all encompassing. The scent of her arousal permeated the air, her breath hitched, and her heart thudded. This place, hanging on a knife’s edge, waiting to breath, but hating the loss of such sweet torture, she wanted to memorize.
She wanted to pull it deep into her memories and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was the moment she fell in love. Struck to tears, she slumped over him as he kissed the insides of her thighs softly. She couldn’t have moved if he demanded her. Her thighs were jelly and she rested on her chest above his head. She felt him shuffle out from under her, but she couldn’t gather the strength to roll over.
“Perfect,” he whispered as he ran his hands over her exposed flank. “Levántala más arriba,” he said.
“Mhat?” Her question was muffled but he heard her.
“Lift it up higher,” he translated. “Dame lo, means give it to me. Más fuerte means harder. Adentro, to make me go deeper. And the one that’s most important? Este coño es mio, this pussy is mine.”
She groaned as he slid into her vagina as his words faded. Long and thick, his cock squeezed into her tight core and stretched her almost to the point of pain, but it felt so good. Every time he stroked into her, he swirled his hips, forcing his final inch deeper inside of her and it made her eyes cross.
“Más fuerte,” he growled, and pounded hard into her. She clamped her hands over her mouth to block her cry.
When he curled over her back, she trembled. “Say it,” he demanded.
“Más fuerte,” she forced out.
He did as she needed, jerking into her cunt until she could barely breathe. She whimpered into her palms before he stroked in deep and pressed on the small of her back to reach further inside.
“Adentro,” he whispered. The way he rolled the “r” made her orgasmic. It reminded her of his tongue on her pussy. Deeper, she remembered this one.
“Adentro,” she agreed.
He lifted a bit over her and force the arch in her back to be deeper, then he let loose. His cock slid into her aching body and pressed a spot deep inside of her she didn’t know she had. It rendered her fucking silent, the world exploding behind her clenched eyelids and her hearing contained to only the slap of his hips against her ass.
This man slayed her.
“Dame lo, baby. Leche my polla. Hazeme llegar. Quiero venir cuando me tenses.”
She couldn’t understand him anymore, but she could sense his need when he clenched her hips. Every time she gripped him harder he groaned into her neck.
“Like this?” she asked, and tightened her pussy.
“Fuck, yes. More, baby.”
He lost his finesse. She held her mouth, and he bit her shoulder as the fucked. At times, he went hard and fast, others slow and deep, but she kept her insides tight around him, clamping down even further when she came. Each time rolled into the next, until, by the time he came, groaning into her neck, she had fallen from her knees and lay flat on her stomach.
“So, you guys know we’re in tents, right?” Wolf hollered.
“Oh my God,” Tiffany cried and buried her face in her pillow.
“You’re just jealous,” Cry Baby tossed back.
“It just isn’t fair,” Heim argued.
“Call the CINCHOUSE and complain then,” Cry Baby retorted.
“CINCHOUSE?” Tiffany mumbled.
“Very important person,” Wolf explained, proving they could hear everything.
“Some would say the most important person. The one who can take your balls from you and ruin your life,” Heim said.
“Hooyah!”
The cry rose from different angles, and Tiffany wanted to throttle them all.
“You knew they could hear, didn’t you?” she asked Cry Baby.
“Maybe.”
“I need the number to the CINCHOUSE then,” she said.
“Oh baby, you already got it,” he said.
“Who is it then?”
Cry Baby chuckled and reach for his phone. After a few seconds, her phone rang and she picked it up amongst laughter.
“Hello?” she asked.
“Thank you, Commander-in-Chief of the House, AKA the woman at home, for answering the phone. Heim would like to tell on me,” Cry Baby said.
She threw her phone at him and screamed in frustration.
But deep inside, while the warmth of their lovemaking faded, she couldn’t help but smile. He’d made her one of them, and made sure they all knew it. She could stick behind a guy like that.
Chapter Thirteen
Cry Baby
“On the seventh of August 2011, the Doman Name Infrastructure was hacked and over two million potential users’ information was leaked. On the fourteenth of August 2011, you, Abd Al Alim bin Abdul, entered the FBI Headquarters in Langley, Virginia and confessed to the crime before your detainment. You did so under no duress or without torture, is this correct?” Trace asked Abd.
Cry Baby watched the detainee and waited for some twitch or form of reaction. After watching Tiffany in there the day before, and having gone through his own grueling training on interrogation, he knew that it might be what Abd didn’t say that would tell them more. Tiffany had gotten a good baseline on Abd, and a timeline for when things happened. They had no choice but to let Trace work to give them more details.
“Yes, that is correct. Where is the woman from yesterday?” Abd asked.
Trace lifted an eyebrow. “Who?”
“The woman who gave the order to illegally detain my wife.”
“He really didn’t like that,” Tiffany said.
“Might not be a terrible thing, right now,” Wolf said.
“If he doesn’t focus on it, Trace can string along possibly finding out more about his wife’s whereabouts, in return for giving information,” Mozart agreed.
“But Abd is not stupid. He may have let that piece slip, but he didn’t give complete clarification. We will still have to dig and see where this goes,” Tiffany told them.
Cry Baby nodded, knowing she spoke the truth. They turned back to the CCTV and caught Trace’s response.
“She is where I’ve ordered her to be,” Trace said.
“Ah, so you are the one that holds the reins. Fitting. It is a man’s place to guide a woman. It is a virtuous woman who will support the true believer, and through her support, find the righteousness of Allah.”
“Is that what you learned when you traveled to Bosnia to learn bomb making and to enhance it with biochemical warfare?” Trace asked.
“Is that confirmed info?” Cry Baby asked. Is was not uncommon for converts to travel to different countries to receive training, and Bosnia often came up as one of the countries.
“Yes, we confirmed it a few months after his capture, but it hadn’t been used against him previously,” Tiffany answered.
“Trace is using it to e
stablish another baseline of how he reacts to truthful, but unknown information,” Cry Baby said.
“Exactly. Intelligence is so sexy,” Tiffany said and kissed his neck.
He hid his tremble as best he could and kept his eyes on the screen.
“It seems you know much about me, but not what you want, or you wouldn’t be here. If you have me transferred to a facility in the States, I can give you more,” Abd taunted.
“And you know the policy is not to negotiate with terrorist. You are an admitted terrorist, and the information you took was filtered into terrorist organizations. We know this.”
“Then what can you do for me?”
“Nothing. But you can do something for your wife?” Trace asked. He sat back and unbuttoned his stiff pewter suit jacket. He was calm and secured, with one leg crossed over the other. He continued to watch Abd as he adjusted his cuffs and then rested his hands in his lap.
“My wife?”
“Yes. She is a virtuous woman, and has given you her entire support. She has admitted to working with you through all your endeavors, and prepared to be a suicide-bomber for your plans. Crimes such as those come with steep costs.”
“Are you threatening my wife?”
“Of course not, I’m a gentleman. What I’m saying is she could become a member of a rare, and exclusive group. Did you know there have been female detainees here?”
“What?” Wolf asked as he spun around.
“Did he just say female inmates? At GITMO?” Heim asked.
“Shhh, let the man work,” Tiffany admonished.
“Then she would have done so for her husband, and pleased him,” Abd returned.
“That is good to hear, as she’s already been transferred. We will cease the action to protect her under the British government and move her to our black site.”
Trace stood up and rebuttoned his coat. Cry Baby had to force his hands to relax and his feet not to move. He understood how things could happen in interrogations, but he didn’t want to risk not getting the information they needed because he raced in that room. He had to allow Trace to push Abd the way that would work.
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Vixen (Kindle Worlds Novella) (A SEALed Fate Book 3) Page 7
