Danger Zone: Tales of Military Passion

by Marie Harte

  She fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him even closer, lifting herself to his teasing, clever touch. The pulse in her womb escalated, the beat vibrating through her body. She heard soft moaning and realized it was coming from her, as she thrust herself against his mouth. But overlaid was a growl rumbling from Mason’s throat as he dragged her panties down farther and pressed his tongue against her clit.

  When he finally pulled the scrap of satin the rest of the way down her body, she opened her legs for him, and his mouth closed over her. He licked her slit, probed her opening with his tongue, and swirled the tip around her sensitive clit. Sharp sensations rippled through her, from her pussy to her breasts to her painfully turgid nipples.

  “More,” she whimpered. “Inside me. I want you inside me.”

  He gave a rough laugh, the sound pulsating through her overstimulated cunt. “Not yet. I’m not through tasting you.”

  In the next instant, he thrust his stiffened tongue inside her, scraping it against her delicate walls. When he curled it enough to rasp the tip against her sweet spot, she was so primed in such a short time that she convulsed immediately, an orgasm washing over her. Her body shook and trembled, and she anchored herself with her hold on his hair. It was impossible to squeeze her legs together against the spasms, his broad shoulders holding them apart as he feasted and tasted and teased.

  When the ripples subsided, at last, she unclenched her fingers from Mason’s hair and let her arms fall to the side, her breathing a stutter in her throat. He lifted his eyes, the irises darkened to the color of espresso. His mouth glistened with the liquid from her pussy. Very slowly, he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, the sight so erotic, her depleted body was instantly aroused again.

  God! The man was going to kill her.

  She grabbed the bottom of his shirt again and tugged it upward. Her hands itched to touch the hard planes of his chest and feel the softness of the dusting of hair covering it.

  “Off,” she urged. “Now. Please.”

  MASON’S COCK WAS hard as a spike, and he was so aroused he was afraid it would break through his jeans and his balls would explode. He had entertained the false hope that once he got his hands on Kris Gauthier again, it would satisfy the intense craving he’d been harboring for a year and that would be that, But the gods were having a huge laugh at his expense. Not only was his craving not appeased, it had ramped up to an unbelievable level.

  She tasted as sweet as she had all those months ago, her scent as intoxicating. He was stunned by the thought he might never get enough of this woman, and then where would he be? This couldn’t go anywhere except where it was right this moment. The disastrous destruction of his engagement had left him bitter about relationships. So what if he grew old alone. It was better than opening himself up to pain again.

  Deliberately, he closed his mind to that train of thought. He had the hottest woman he’d ever met naked before him. He didn’t plan to waste this moment being depressed about something he couldn’t change, something that had happened more than a year ago.

  He yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, bending low again to pepper soft kisses on her throat, both breasts, down the little swell of her tummy, to the soft curls on her mound. He paused a moment to inhale her scent, savoring the richness of it before pushing himself to his feet.

  He toed off his boots and socks, disposed of his jeans and boxer briefs with one shove of his hands, and stood before her naked, one hand wrapped around his aching shaft. He was torn between wanting to jack off all over her soft, scented skin; have her lips wrapped around him; or slide home into her pussy and fucking her brains out.

  Finally, knowing his control was hanging by a thread, he reached down to his jeans and dug a condom out of a pocket.

  Kris’s eyes widened. “Do you always carry one of those around with you?”

  “No, only when I have something planned.” He let his gaze rake the length of her body. “And I’ve definitely been planning this since I laid eyes on you again.”

  His hands actually trembled as he rolled the latex on his swollen cock and knelt again between her thighs. Spreading the lips of her pussy wide, he nudged at her with his dick, prodding her opening. He entered her slowly, savoring every hot inch of his entry. When he was fully seated inside her, he reached beneath her and palmed the cheeks of her ass, his fingers finding the hot crease.

  “Remember when I fucked you here?” He barely recognized the hoarse voice as his own.

  “Yes.” The word came out on a whisper of a sigh. Her eyes blazed at the memory, darkening to the blue of a stormy ocean.

  “Before you leave the Double R, I’m going to do it again. I want you to suck my cock again, play with my balls while I shove my tongue onto your sweet cunt. And when we can’t last another minute, I’m going to turn you over, lube up that sweet, hot tunnel, and fill you so full of me, you’ll explode.”

  Her small pink tongue came out to wet her lips, a habit that only made him harder.

  “Would you like that?” He pressed into her again.

  “Yessss,” she hissed. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  Her fingers dug into his biceps as he moved over her. “Then count on it.”

  Her words shredded the last of his control and he couldn’t wait one moment more. Lifting her to him, fingers digging into that hot crevice, he pounded into her, hitting the mouth of her womb with every stroke. She cried out but met him thrust for thrust. Soon there was nothing but the two of them, a cloud of heat scorching them, his thick shaft in her tight wet pussy, and the sexual tension building in his body.

  He watched her, remembering from their first time together what the signals were, and when she was close to the peak, he ramped up his movement, hips pistoning. They exploded together, a cataclysmic eruption that shook them both. He held her tight to his body, the walls of her cunt squeezing his cock as it pulsed over and over again.

  He lost track of time, had no idea how many seconds or minutes the climax lasted. Finally, though, the aftershocks lessened then subsided. He managed to drag enough air into his lungs to catch his breath, and his heart rate slowed to a manageable rhythm. He rolled to the side, taking Kris with him, unwilling to break their connection yet. Their sweat-slicked bodies were glued together, and he relished every point of contact.

  When his dick began to soften, he eased himself from her wet clasp, carefully removed the condom, stuffed it into the foil packet, and turned to her again. Impulsively, he pressed a kiss to her lips, a soft one, not erotic, but full of so much tenderness, it stunned him.

  He saw by the shock in her eyes it stunned her, also.

  “Mason?”

  A question, and the sound of it so intimate it made something in his heart turn over. Exactly what was she asking? Nothing he wanted to answer. Not now. Not ever. He was prepared for hot, raunchy sex and nothing more. Nada. Zip. And certainly not with a woman who irritated the crap out of him.

  And why is that, jerkhead? Because you’re afraid you feel something else for her? Afraid she’d laugh at you if you said something?

  He was never going down that road again. Easing her from his arms, he rose and walked, naked, back to his horse. From one of the saddlebags, he grabbed two towels he’d tossed in at the barn and threw one to her.

  “We’d better get back before people start asking questions.”

  She shuttered her eyes, any emotion reflected in them disappearing. Good. Better for both of them. Sex, he reminded himself. Plain, raunchy sex.

  He took the towel from her, when she’d finished wiping the perspiration from her body, and handed her the clothes she’d been wearing. Then he deliberately turned around to dress himself, the movement a symbolic closing of a door. When they were both ready, he rolled up the quilt and tied it behind the saddle again, stowed the towels, and freed the horses.

  When he handed Kris the reins to Sassy, she stared at him for what seemed an eternity, her expression unreadable. Then, as smoothly as she’d d
one earlier, she swung up into the saddle and settled herself. Mason mounted his own horse and urged him forward, nodding for Kris to follow.

  The ride back seemed both endless and too short. He wanted it to be over, yet he didn’t want it to end. Halfway there, Kris urged her horse into a canter and let the mare run full out, only slowing when they got closer and she needed to let the animal cool down. Mason lagged behind in a slower canter, admiring the way she sat a horse and the effortless control she had. A perfect match for a ranch.

  Someone else’s, he reminded himself sternly. Not mine. Never mine.

  But he’d have her again, before she and her team left. He’d make sure to imprint his presence on her without interfering with her job, and then one more night of down-and-dirty sex. He was sure that would get her out of his system, once and for all.

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  EVERYONE WAS ALREADY digging into breakfast when Kris made it into the ranch house the next morning. She’d hoped Mason would already have eaten and gone to do whatever it was he normally did during the day.

  Yesterday, as soon as she’d cooled her horse down and put her tack away, she’d disappeared into the bunkhouse. Last night, she’d had Lane ask Martina to fix a plate he could bring down to the bunkhouse for her. Her excuse was she wanted to spend more time studying the maps and going over some reports.

  Avoiding Mason was more like it.

  It was painfully obvious to her their sexual chemistry was so strong that just being with him zinged her brain waves. Having him fly in the copilot’s seat with her had been a big mistake, but she was torn between keeping miles of distance between them and treating him as she would any other client.

  Why hadn’t she called Seth when she’d discovered who they were working for and asked for reassignment?

  Because you don’t want him to see you as different than the other agents, different than the men who work for him.

  And every time she gave in to her desire for sex with Mason, she was digging a deeper hole for herself.

  Damn it all, anyway.

  This morning she had no excuse to avoid breakfast up at the house. She made up her mind to ignore him and get on with business. She had some flying she wanted to do today and some information to go over with the team. She’d make herself plenty busy.

  Her team was already seated and serving themselves.

  “So, last night, we got nada.” Lane scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate and added some strips of bacon. “A couple of times, I got a blip from one of the sensors, but the heat signature wasn’t big enough for a human. Not even a small one.”

  “Lots of wild animals out there,” Mason told him, reaching for the large basket of biscuits. “Raccoons, foxes, coyotes. Whole bunch of different ones.”

  “Yeah.” Ted nodded. “We’ve had that before, animals tripping the sensors. We learned the hard way how to tell the difference.”

  “This isn’t our first time in the wilds of Texas.” Kris hadn’t meant to snap the words, but apparently she had, because Lane gave her a puzzled look. She cleared her throat. “I only meant we’ve been in terrain like this before.”

  “We get it.” Mason’s voice was uninflected, the expression on his face unreadable.

  Kris took an empty seat on the other side of the table, as far away from Mason as she could get. This was not going to be easy. Being in the same room with him sent her temperature into the red zone and her body humming with need. Maybe this was a disease, and she could find a cure. If not, she was in big trouble.

  Yesterday could not happen again. No matter how much she wanted it. She was a freaking leader of a high-security ops team, for heaven’s sake. She could remain motionless watching for bad guys for hours, fly circles around nearly every other chopper pilot, and outscore every member of her team on the range. Except Ted, with his rifle, if course. Surely, she could keep her hormones in check for a few days.

  Ray filled his own plate then shifted his gaze to Mason. “Ted and I thought we’d take a ride out to the area again today, if it’s okay with you.”

  “We mapped it and entered the coordinates last time,” Ted added, “so we don’t need to borrow Stick again.”

  “I don’t mind.” Stick grinned. “Beats chasing cows all day.”

  Mason glanced at hm. “Ha ha. Very funny. Ted, if you need him, he’s all yours.”

  “We’re good.”

  Mason narrowed his eyes. “It’s easy to get lost out there.”

  “We’ve been in harder places to get around,” she snapped. Then took a breath. “Sorry. But we could probably do this with our eyes closed now. You do stuff like this often enough, you learn how to absorb info really fast.”

  He lifted his hands. “Sorry. No offense here.”

  “None taken.” She focused on the food on her plate.

  What the hell was wrong with her? She could certainly be civil to the man. He’d given her the best sex she’d ever had in her life, for damn sure. If she said she hadn’t enjoyed, it she’d be lying. It wasn’t as if she wanted anything else from him, right? And maybe, if she was lucky and didn’t act like someone on a hormone binge, she might get to have some again before this gig was over.

  Steady, she told herself. Calm. And businesslike. Be your usual self.

  Except, at the moment, she wasn’t sure who her usual self was. The hardened military veteran, the pilot who’d flown so many SOAR missions? The experienced team leader from Mission Control? Or maybe the woman who’d been hiding behind both of them for too many years?

  Don’t overthink it, and don’t piss him off. He’s a client. And what harm would one more session of scorching sex do, anyway?

  She saw him watching her, his face expressionless. But the heat and sizzle was still there in his eyes. Oh, yeah. It was definitely there.

  “You sure?” Stick asked.

  “Sure?” She frowned. She’d already lost the thread of the conversation. Shit. What she needed to do was put Mason and hot sex out of her mind until they had everything together here. Compartmentalize, as she’d been able to do for years. If only she could get yesterday out of her mind. “Sure about what?”

  “That they don’t need me.” Stick chuckled.

  “Having trouble keeping up this morning, boss?” Lane joked.

  Kris ignored him, concentrating instead on seasoning her eggs and buttering her biscuit. She swallowed a mouthful of food before she spoke, certain she had herself back under control.

  “I’m going to fly over the area one more time.” She smiled at Martina as the woman filled her coffee mug. “I know we took a ton of still shots and video, but I want to get some of where the Double R borders the ranches on either side and also follow the path of the Rio Grande where it borders the edge of the land.”

  “Need me to come with?” Mason threw the question out there, almost offhanded, but she heard the little edge in his tone. What did that mean? Did he want to fly with her or not?

  She gave him a polite smile. “I think we’ve got it. You must have work to do.”

  “Actually, they finished the branding yesterday. If you don’t need Stick, he and Greg will keep things together.” His mouth curved in that slightly sardonic grin she was coming to know. “Besides, I like watching you fly that thing.”

  God! He was such a chameleon—uptight and remote one minute then friendly the next. Okay, she’d pull up her mental socks, put on her team-leader personality and act like he was any other male client in the world. She could do that. She’d flown missions where she nearly got killed. Surely she could handle one hot rancher.

  “Fine.” She glanced down at her watch. “Meet me in the field in an hour. That will give Ted and Ray time to get headed into the area we’re watching and me time to plot exactly what I want to see.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  Her gaze tracked him as he strode from the room, long legs encased in worn jeans, the muscles in his ass flexing so nicely, back straight, shoulders broad. O
kay, so maybe one more night, and she’d get him out of her system. At least, that was her plan.

  *

  THEY WERE IN Mateo’s living room. Rigo sat in a straight-back chair across from his brother, who lounged on the couch, smoking a cigarillo.

  “So, Rigo, you tell me you don’t want to make another crossing right now.”

  Rigo swallowed and tightened his hands on the arms of the chair. “I’m saying that I think it would be unwise to do it so close to the other one. I don’t want to have to kill anyone again.”

  “Pah.” Mateo waved his hand. “Did we ever hear anything about the dead bodies? Did they post armed guards? Did you have trouble crossing the other night?”

  “No. No, I did not.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t be waiting the next time. I think we got lucky this time. Perhaps they haven’t had a chance to prepare for us.”

  “Rigo, Rigo, Rigo.” Mateo sighed, took a puff of his cigarillo, and blew a stream, of smoke into the air. “You worry needlessly. The Americano who owns that ranch is oblivious to all of this.”

  “Then why did he send two of his rancheros out to patrol that area? Men we were forced to kill?”

  “My personal opinion? They’ve been dealing with poachers and cattle rustlers. If you hadn’t cut the wrong fence that time, they’d never even think anything was happening there. Blame your own stupidity.”

  Rigo wanted to throw his hands up. How was it his brother could be smart enough to run this small offshoot of the Sinaloa Cartel so efficiently and lucratively, yet not see things right in front of his face.

  “There can’t be any poaching, Mateo.” He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “There is not valuable wild game there, and that area of the ranch is so unsuitable for cattle, they never use it. That’s one of the reasons we targeted it for our route.”