by Billi Jean
He turned serious at her words. “Let me get us out of this mess, and all that is done. I’m yours, sugar. No more war, no more fights, okay?”
She jerked her gaze up from where she’d been watching her hands lingering over his chest. “Do you mean that, Mac?”
He wanted to tell her he was here, with her forever, but his blood was pumping straight to his growing erection and even though he’d come harder than he had in his life—twice now—the desperation to take her again dug claws into his gut. He pressed deeper and cupped both of her lush, pink-tipped breasts together, making that valley he wanted to dive into and never leave. “Trust me, baby. You want round three?”
“Oh…round three. I like,” she moaned.
Mac pulled out until he rested against her wet entrance, then flexed his ass to drive back in, in one slow, heavy glide.
“Oh, God yes, Mac!”
“Tell me, are you sure? Tell me, Mandy.” He bent down and nipped at her breast.
She dug her nails into his shoulders and arched her back to drive him deeper. “Oh, yes, I like round three.”
God, could this be real?
Mandy pulled him up from her breasts and panted into his mouth before kissing him so passionately he let go of everything but loving her.
Chapter Seventeen
Mandy brushed her hands off. The sand seemed to find its way onto everything. Mac didn’t seem to mind. Dressed in just his pants, bare-chested and barefoot, he seemed completely at ease. She watched him wrap their leftover fish in a big banana leaf. He looked so serious. He made it look like a folded package, all ready for a stamp to make it to the post office on time. The man was meticulous. Her body knew that. Every inch of her had been under his hungry mouth, touched and caressed by his amazing hands, and tingled still from the hours of lovemaking. Just thinking about it made her grow shaky with need.
Watching him, she still couldn’t believe the way he’d made love to her. Aggressively. He’d not held anything back, but then neither had she. It was as if the years apart had made them starved for each other.
Or maybe several near death experiences.
The thought sobered her.
Mac glanced over, checking in like he’d been doing since they’d walked back to their camp. With a grin, he stood to put the fish in the tree near their packs. They’d constructed a small wind barrier of more leaves to keep the cool breeze off them during the night.
“That should do it.” He turned to her and immediately pulled her into his arms for a kiss. He was gentle with her, careful no doubt because they’d been kissing for hours, and making love for just as long. Her entire body felt his possession, all the way down to her toes. Her pussy was tender in that way she could now remember. He’d been careful the third time, but each stroke had felt so good she had urged him on until, with a thrill she still felt, he had returned to those frantic, desperate stokes that brought their bodies together with firm, hard slaps of flesh on flesh.
She loved that. How deeply she could trigger him to turn from careful lover to madman.
“You okay?”
“I’m good, Mac. Very, very, very good.”
He watched her face closely and finally kissed the side of her mouth. “Yeah? I think you might be a little bad,” he husked, and suddenly swatted her on the ass, gripping her butt after and sighing into her throat. “You make me crazy sitting there in only my shirt with my cum all over you.”
“Oh, God, that is bad,” she whispered, secretly fighting a rush of lust at the hot little spank and dirty words. They’d bathed in the ocean, but she could still smell him on her skin.
Mac surprised her by picking her up then, and walking over to where they’d made a bed out of leaves. He carried her as if she might break. His expression was so serious she simply let him settle her down, and curl around her after, even pulling her to his chest.
“Comfortable?”
Mandy nodded against his bare skin. He was so warm. “Tell me about the scar, Mac.”
He sighed heavily and started caressing her arm. The sounds of nature filled the evening, the surf still echoed in her ears and the light breeze felt cool against her skin. “I got it in a fight in South America. We were on a rescue—one of our own had been taken—and the mission went south.”
She paused from rubbing his firm chest. The mission went south? He meant he’d nearly died.
Mac covered her hand with his and brought it to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss to her fingers.
“One inch lower and he might have succeeded in ending things.”
Her throat tightened. He spoke so nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal that he had almost died. “Things? You mean your life, don’t you?”
Mac brushed another kiss to her fingers and exhaled, sounding tired. He had to be after the day they’d had. They had slept in a secure room at the base after the attack at the hotel, but she knew Mac, he hadn’t slept. She had barely dozed on the hard cot. When he’d woken her before dawn, she’d felt as if she’d just closed her eyes.
“Yeah, it was close. Things were messed up on that mission,” he murmured.
“How long ago?” she asked, already having a feeling she’d not like his answer.
Mac stayed silent but took pains to thread their fingers together slowly. He’d changed so much it was hard to grasp all the changes. The touching. He’d always stayed away from her physically. Rob had always hugged her, let her hold his hand, and simply been there for her. Mac had been there, but always apart. She remembered how Mac had shown up at the house to tell her Rob had died. She hadn’t seen him in six months. For the first time since she’d been fifteen and starry-eyed over him, he’d pulled her in his arms and held her. They’d curled up on her couch, after she’d cried her eyes out, and he’d simply held her. Just like this, she realised.
“Mac?” She shifted and got her hip more comfortable in the bed of sand and banana leaves. He was silent for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer, but finally his chest rose higher with his inhale then he exhaled heavily.
“Five years, give or take.”
“When I left.”
A fresh wash of tears filled her eyes, stinging her throat and blurring the area around them at his silence. He wasn’t telling her everything. Things had been messed up, he’d said. But she knew, deep down where it mattered, she knew he meant her leaving had hurt him. Mandy sat up and sniffed back the tears with difficulty. Mac jerked upright and opened his mouth, concern clear on his handsome face.
“I didn’t know. I never did. I thought I was in the way. I thought you slept with me that night because we’d both lost Rob. I thought you simply gave me what I wanted and didn’t know how to come home, to tell me that what we had wasn’t anything.”
She shuddered at the truth in her words, fearing her honesty more than anything else they had gone through.
He tried to hush her, he’d always hated her tears, but she held up a hand and continued, “I never meant to hurt you. If I had thought, even for a moment, that you wanted me—” Her voice broke and she reached up to put a finger over his lips to keep him quiet. “No, let me finish. I wouldn’t have left. No matter what else you think, Mac, you have to believe that.”
She knew Mac. She knew things about him he didn’t realise. A boy, fifteen on his own, and suddenly showing up to help her in the middle of a thunderstorm like some knight in shining armour? She knew Mac would never have left his home on his own, someone had made him. Or else he’d been protecting someone by leaving. Either way, someone had hurt him enough for him to put high, tight walls around his heart. He cared. When he cared, he cared deeply. Whoever his mother had been, Mandy wished she could kick her ass for hurting him like that. But she’d done the same, hadn’t she? From his point of view, she’d left him.
It hurt. It hurt deeply to know she’d caused him pain. “I thought you wanted out, so I gave you an out.”
He reached out slowly and brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it back behind her ear.
“I know, sugar.” The sharp angles of his face appeared pinched with pain. He needed to shave. The rough stubble darkened his square jaw, making his expression harder, tougher to read. But she saw the truth there. “I know that. You’re here now, though, and Mandy, sugar, that’s all I ever wanted, even if I was too dumb-ass to show you that.”
“Mac, don’t say such things about yourself. You’re a hero, a hero,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“Mandy, damn, you’re killing me,” he said gently.
She closed her eyes, blocking his concerned look. She’d loved him for so long. Hopelessly. When she looked again, he was still waiting and watching her silently.
“I’ll get us out of this. You know that, don’t you? You believe me, right?” He gave her his crooked grin and leaned in to kiss her nose. “You used to believe everything I told you.” He tugged a curl reminding her silently how he’d once told her if she put green Jell-O on her hair, it would make it straighten out. She’d walked around with pale green curls for a week.
She laughed softly at the memory. Carefully, she reached up and traced her fingers over his full bottom lip. Without asking, she brushed her mouth tenderly against his. Just a light press of her lips to his but it was enough. He rubbed his thumbs along the column of her throat in a light massage and opened for her with a warmth she fell into willingly. Mac, solid and alive, safe and powerful in her arms, was more than she’d ever dreamt. He let her control the kiss until, with a groan, he wrapped her up in his arms, so she rested against his chest.
He broke away with a slow, deliberate casualness. She sucked on his bottom lip, not willing to let him go so easily. His hands rubbed down her back deliciously but he breathed gustily against her neck as soon as she released his lip. “Baby, you’re making me hard as stone, here.”
“Mmm, I like hard.”
He laughed against her skin, brushing his lips over her throat as he massaged her back. “Just give me some time to get us out of here and I’m going to show you every day how hard I get for you, okay?”
“Do we have time?”
With a low groan, he pulled up and stared down at her. He looked flushed and frustrated. She did that. Made him hard and sexy hot. A thrill raced up her body at the power in that ability.
“Come here.” He pulled her closer, arranging her the way they’d first lain down, her arm over his chest and her leg between his thighs. His arm snaked around her waist and drew her closer.
“Well? Do we?” she asked when he didn’t say more.
“Yes.”
She sighed and snuggled closer to his warmth. Mac the Navy SEAL had returned. He had this way of getting hard, tough, and in control. When he made love like he did today, it was wicked sexy. The sand was harder than she’d imagined and it was getting into places that were going to be a pain, but Mac was here with her. And he was just as sandy, she was certain.
“Yes? And? More, please.”
He chuckled and brushed a kiss to the nape of her neck.
“I like that when you say more.”
She laughed with him, caressing the tight muscles of his arms. “Mac, are we safe here? I mean, what about the cartel? Won’t they know where their men went down? Do our men know where we went down?”
“We can’t count on the men, they might not know the ‘copter went down, but if they do, they’ll send someone. Both will. We bought ourselves a night. In the morning, we have to find out where we landed and try to reach a settlement.”
“Where are we?”
“Shit if I know,” Mac grumbled and kissed her neck. “But there have to be settlements.”
She slid her hands over his tough chest. He quirked his eyebrow at her and smiled down at her.
“So we sleep here tonight, then head inland?”
“Yep, sounds like a plan. Some of the islands have towns, this one might. Most do. Only a few don’t because of lack of water. This one has water, so…”
“You think it’s inhabited.” She tipped her head to see him smiling down at her.
He nodded and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll need all our energy.”
She laughed softly and slyly slid her hand down his warm stomach. She got as far as the waistband of his BDUs before he caught her hand.
“Sugar, you do not want to prod that monster more than you already have,” he growled and turned her around to curl around her like a living blanket. With one big arm under her head and the other wrapped around her waist, he pulled her butt tight to his body.
“I might.”
He groaned and pressed up, letting her feel the thick cylinder of his erection against her ass. “Trust me, you don’t. I won’t be able to stop and we need rest. In the morning,” he said, “we’ll see how tender you are.”
“Mmmm, promises, promises.”
“I keep my promises, sugar.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mac quieted Mandy’s muffled cry with his hand over her mouth. Moving closer, he angled his lips her ear to ease her as best he could. “We’ve got company.”
He waited until she nodded quickly before he released her. Breathlessly, she sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and his green T-shirt down over her bare feet. She looked so frightened and small that he swore his heart felt crushed. How would he get her out of here, alive and whole? There wasn’t an option for anything else, so he stood from his crouch and guided her to her feet with his hand in hers.
He handed her the borrowed BDUs along with her now dry sexy panties and bra. He turned away when she started to pull his shirt off and gathered her pack, stuffing it into his. If he looked at the lush curves of her body, he’d not be able to remain detached. He needed to focus, to get them free, clear of this shit, and safe.
“Mac? What’s going on?”
He zipped up the pack and shoved it on, snapped the chest harness and pulled their breakfast down from the tree.
“We eat then head out. Here.” He turned and handed her half of the fish, watching silently as she adjusted her tank top and bent to lace her tiny boots. The boots were only partially dry, but would be better than going barefoot through the jungle. He ignored the rounded cleavage spilling over and waited for her to stand.
“Uh, I’m not hungry.”
He handed her the fish and a water bottle. “Eat it all. Drink that too. We move and eat.”
She frowned, but took the fish. “Mac—”
“Food is energy, Mandy.” He needed her strong enough to get through the day. “Be strong, sugar, it’s what will help us get out of this.”
She tipped the water bottle to her lips and drank half of it down before trying to hand him the last of it.
“No, you keep it.”
“What do you want me to do?”
In the distance, he heard the first rustling of the undergrowth. They were good, he’d give them that, but the cartels always came in with force when silence could do the job much better. Good for him, bad for them. He was still in a jam, but if his guesses where right, they were on one of the smaller, more primitive islands. If they headed inland, they would avoid any exposure if this island did have beach resorts.
“Just follow my lead, okay?”
She reached out to touch his face, surprising him. “I will.”
“Let’s go, follow close, and stay as quiet as possible. Eat all of that.” He nodded to the untouched fish. “I’ve already eaten, but you need a full stomach, okay?”
He waited until she nodded hesitantly before he turned and pushed through the jungle.
“What if they find our trail—?”
“I cleaned our camp, so they won’t find it, but try to follow my footsteps. Step where I step.”
He watched her take a tentative bite and chew, followed by a sip of water. She nodded again instead of speaking, already picking up that he wanted them to be quiet.
“Good girl. Be strong, sugar.”
She took another bite of cold fish without complaint. Her trust di
d odd things to his chest, made his neck tingle like they were in someone’s sights.
Suddenly, the birds in the canopy above them took off with loud cries.
Mandy gave him a frightened look but stayed silent. They paused, waiting for any other sound. He nodded to her food and she ate the rest, holding up the banana leaf with a questioning look.
“Here, I’ll take it,” he said, shredding the banana leaf into small strips before tucking it in his pocket. “No evidence, right?”
He didn’t wait for more than her nod before pushing them forward. The trail up ahead grew thicker, much denser than the sparse vegetation by the beach. A ten-minute uphill climb and they moved out of the sand and into firmer dirt. Mandy kept up easily. She gave him a mock irritated look like he was pushing her when he checked on her for the hundredth time, but he ignored how damn cute that was and focused on the surroundings.
Within a few minutes, no more birds took flight. He couldn’t hear any sounds of pursuit but kept pushing them deeper into the lush vegetation. Mandy walked as silently as he could want. Still, his unease grew. The team he’d spotted had been combing the beach, looking for signs of them, he was certain. Dressed in black, and wearing guns, they were obviously the clean-up crew sent in to see if anyone had survived the crash.
If he’d been alone, he’d have taken them down, or at least one and used that weapon to take down the others. But he’d been too caught up in Mandy, scared shitless that they might circle around him and find her to think straight. He’d left camp without his gun, too. Gone for a piss, then heard sounds and followed. Without his gun.
A SEAL never separated from his weapon. Shit, how many years had he heard that? He’d unwrapped his gun from the dry packing as soon as he’d hit camp. His training included killing with his bare hands, but he didn’t want Mandy to see him kill like that. Her silence on the shooting at the base bothered him. She was too silent now—was she thinking back on that? Did it sicken her that he’d taken out those men without any sign of remorse? He didn’t have any, not for scumbags like that, but more, he would do anything to keep her safe. The weight of his gun reassured him where he’d tucked it safe in the back of his BDUs.
