by Karen Foley
She knew instinctively that the reason Chase had asked Mike and Pete to bring her the food and water was because he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her.
Smart guy.
While she’d been unwilling to compromise his reputation in front of his men, there would have been nothing to prevent her from completely seducing him in the privacy of her living quarters. But she also knew he wouldn’t stay away. Eventually, he’d come by to make sure she was okay because that’s the kind of guy he was. And when he did, she’d be waiting.
12
A SOFT WHOOSH, followed by a low, deep thump that shook the ground, had the men of the 2nd Marines Special Operations Battalion scrambling for their body armor.
“Holy shit,” exclaimed Lego, tightening his helmet strap beneath his chin, “that sucker sounded like it hit the compound!”
Chase and the others had been waiting out the dust storm by scrupulously going over the upcoming mission and ensuring their backup plans were in place in the event it turned into a complete disaster.
Now Chase shot to his feet and flung open the door of the Tac Ops building, trying to see where the mortar had hit. The worst of the dust storm had passed, but the air was thick with a choking red haze that would linger for days, making visibility almost impossible. Night was falling, although it was difficult to tell, given the heavy fog of dust that enveloped the base.
Stepping outside, he could see a darker cloud of smoke and fumes from the area of the motor pool. “Looks like we took a direct hit on the eastern side of the base,” he yelled over his shoulder. Even as he spoke, there came another low, howling whistle.
“Jesus!” shouted Sean. “Incoming!”
In the same instant, the mortar hit with an explosive thud, only closer this time, near the dining facility. The ground beneath Chase’s feet trembled with the impact. Immediately, the sirens began to wail, and there was pandemonium as soldiers scrambled to get to their battle stations or to a bunker. The air was filled with the sound of voices as men shouted orders and directions.
Chase heard a low, distant whoompf and knew another mortar had just been launched. Elena. He had to get to Elena. She’d be terrified, alone in her trailer. He’d told her that if there was an attack, to get her ass to the nearest bunker, but with the choking dust, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her way.
Without hesitating, he leaped down the steps and began sprinting toward the housing area, ignoring the shouts of his men to come back. The third mortar hit somewhere just outside the compound wall, but close enough that the impact made him stumble. Regaining his footage, he ran on, searching the faces of those who passed him in the other direction, hoping that he’d see Elena. But there were only soldiers, racing toward the bunkers and their stations. He reached Elena’s CHU and tried the door handle, but found it locked.
“Elena!” he shouted, knowing the likelihood of her hearing him over the wail of the sirens was slim to none. “Elena!”
There was no response, and he wondered if she might actually have listened to him and already left for the bomb shelter. But she wouldn’t have locked her door behind her, which meant she was still inside. Standing back, he used his foot to kick the door in and then he was inside her quarters, moving swiftly through the empty living area and into her bedroom.
“Elena, what the hell are you doing?” Relief at seeing her sitting uninjured on the edge of her bed washed over him, making his voice rougher than he’d intended.
She’d donned her protective vest and her helmet, and was struggling to pull her boots onto her bare feet. Now she looked up at him, her eyes enormous.
“I—I just need to get my boots on,” she explained shakily, “and then I’m leaving.”
“Too damned late for that,” he growled, and bent to haul her to her feet. “You should have been gone ten seconds after those sirens sounded. Christ!”
To his astonishment she twisted her arm free and turned back to the bed. “I need to put my boots on,” she said stubbornly. “I can’t run in my bare feet.”
“Then I’ll goddamned well carry you,” he all but shouted, “but we need to go now.”
Before she could protest, he bent a shoulder beneath her and lifted her over his back, holding her in place with one hand across the back of her thighs and—Jesus! Beneath the armored vest she wore nothing but a pair of panties, and his palm rested solidly against soft, warm skin. He realized that she must have been sleeping when the attack occurred.
Now she struggled in his grasp, pushing herself upright as she clutched at his shoulders. “No, wait!” she panted. “I need my boots! I can’t go out there without my boots!”
“Elena—”
“Put me down!”
He could carry her even if she struggled, but it wouldn’t be pleasant for her or for him, so he put her down, prepared to reason with her and yes, even let her put her damned boots on if that’s what it took to get her to a bunker.
But the moment he set her on her feet, another whooshing sound came from overhead. Instinctively, Chase pushed Elena to the floor and covered her with his body. The impact, when it came, was dangerously close, rattling the windows of the little hut and shaking the walls. Almost immediately, the mortar was followed by the sounds of a counterattack as the U.S. troops fired back, launching their own missiles in the direction of the insurgency.
As Chase covered Elena, he became aware of several things at once. The first was that while Elena wore both a flak vest and helmet, he’d charged out of the Tac Ops building with neither. In fact, he was damn near as naked as Elena was, wearing only a pair of shorts and T-shirt. The air-conditioning had quit when the power went out, and when the heat had become too oppressive, he and his men had changed into casual clothes. To have gone sprinting across the base during a mortar attack without his protective gear had been beyond stupid. Christ, he knew better!
In the next instant, he became aware of Elena, curled on the floor beneath him. She hadn’t fastened her helmet and it had fallen off when she’d hit the deck. Now his nostrils were filled with the scent of her flowery shampoo. The armored inserts of her flak vest dug into his chest and stomach where he pressed her against the floor, but her legs—her smooth, bare legs—were tangled with his.
The mortars had stopped although the sirens still wailed. Chase lifted his head and looked down at Elena. Her eyes were tightly closed.
“Elena,” he said, smoothing her hair back. “Elena, look at me.”
She did, opening her eyes to stare at him, and he saw the fear in her eyes and for a split second he thought she was afraid of him.
“Oh, Chase,” she whispered, and she flung her arms around his neck, clutching him as if she’d never let go. “I was so frightened.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered back, emotion roughening his voice. He pushed into a sitting position with his back against her bed and pulled her across his lap, cradling her head against his shoulder. “But it’s okay now. In a minute the sirens will stop, and this will all be over.”
She shuddered and burrowed closer. “I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t find my protective gear and you said I shouldn’t leave unless I was wearing it, but then I was barefoot and I couldn’t get my boots on.”
“Shh,” he soothed. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Listen.” He cocked his head. “The sirens have stopped.”
Elena raised her head and as they listened, the sirens let out several short blasts.
“Hear that?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low. “That’s the all-clear sign. It’s over.”
“Thank God,” she breathed. “I never want to go through something like that ever again.”
Chase pressed his lips against her hair, knowing this was a perfect opportunity to suggest she return to Kuwait or even the States, but he selfishly kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want her to leave, even though he knew it was dangerous for her to stay. He tried to convince himself that he only wanted her near so that he could keep an eye on her, but tha
t was a lie.
He wanted her near because he was a selfish bastard.
Because he just plain wanted her.
“Is the dust storm over?” she asked.
“Mostly. The wind has died down, but the air is still pretty thick. They should have the main power back on in a few hours.”
“A sandstorm and a mortar attack, all in one day,” she said, laughing a little. “They’ll never believe this back home.”
“I should have expected it,” Chase said grimly. “The insurgents like to launch their attacks during bad weather. They know our options for retaliating are limited. Hey.” He cupped her face and pulled back enough to look at her, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks. “You okay?”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I am now.”
They stared at each other for a long moment until hot color seeped into her face and she looked down. “Oh, wow,” she exclaimed in mortification. “I should put some clothes on.”
“No, you’re fine,” Chase protested, reluctant to let her go. Reluctant to have her cover up all the warm, feminine flesh pressed against him.
She gave him a tolerant look. “Somehow, I don’t think a flak vest falls under the category of clothing.”
He released her and she braced her hands on his shoulders to push herself up, but then stopped. Her eyes traveled over him, taking in his T-shirt, shorts and bare legs, before flying back to his face.
“You’re not wearing protective gear.” Her voice was filled with a combination of horror and wonder. “You came over here without even putting on your helmet.”
He knew his expression was chagrined. “I didn’t have time,” he said carefully.
“But you’re like the King of Combat Rules,” she persisted. “The only thing that kept me from running, screaming, out of this building the second those mortars hit, was what would happen to me if you caught me without my helmet and vest, and yet you…” Her words drifted off.
“Like I said, I didn’t have time.” His tone was gruff.
“Because you were worried about me.” Her gaze was filled with dawning understanding. “You broke one of your own hard, fast rules because you were worried for my safety.”
Chase started to protest that he absolutely had not abandoned protocol because of her, but the expression on her face caused the words to die on his lips. She looked stunned. And awed. Like he was her own personal hero.
And just like that, he broke. “I couldn’t get here fast enough,” he admitted, his voice hoarse with recalled fear. He cupped her face in his hands, searching her eyes. “The thought of anything happening to you…”
“Oh, Chase,” she breathed, and then she was kissing him. But Jesus, she wasn’t just kissing him, she was devouring him. Chase resisted for about a nanosecond because as much as he’d dreamed of this happening, this was not the reason he’d raced across the compound during a mortar attack. He’d just needed to make sure Elena was okay and maybe stay long enough to comfort her. But this worked, too.
Elena raised herself up and straddled his thighs, holding his face in her hands as she angled her mouth across his. Her tongue swept past his lips, and Chase groaned. His arms went around her, and he realized she still wore her flak vest.
“Let’s get this off,” he managed, his fingers working the Velcro fastenings. She helped him slide it off, and then there she was, wearing nothing but a lacy white bra.
“Oh, man,” he groaned, “you are so damned beautiful.”
Elena wound her arms around his neck and he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. She smelled like shampoo and soap and under that, a subtly feminine smell that was hers alone. The combination was a complete turn-on.
“Take this off,” she demanded, tugging at his shirt, and he helped her push it up and over his head until finally—proof that there really was a God—they were skin on skin.
He wanted to consume her, to take her hard and fast and deep, until she acknowledged that she was his. The mortar attack, combined with the adrenaline rush of fear he’d felt for Elena’s safety, had left him completely jacked. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ached so desperately for sexual release. Well, that wasn’t completely true; he’d been in serious pain after he’d pushed her away in the men’s showers. He was rock-hard for her, but there was a minuscule part of his brain that still functioned.
“Elena, babe,” he managed, “we can’t do this. There are rules—”
“Too bad, soldier,” she breathed, shifting so that she was in full, sweet contact with his erection. “Some rules were meant to be broken.”
And then she kissed him, a hot, openmouthed kiss that made him forget his rule about no sex on the base. Jesus, he should stop, he knew that, but she made him forget everything except his need to be with her, inside her, hearing her gasps of pleasure as he pushed her over the edge.
She was fumbling with his zipper and he flicked the fastening of her bra open, filling his hands with her breasts. He stood up, pulling her with him, and helped her to strip off his shorts even as he pushed her panties down, and then they were both gloriously naked. He wanted to inhale her, to run his hands and mouth over every inch of her and reassure himself that she really was okay.
Chase lay back on the narrow bed, pulling her down on top of him, and she laughed as she kissed him again, their teeth scraping together before he swept his tongue into her mouth. She was liquid fire in his arms, her sleek, warm thighs pressed tightly against either side of his hips as she rocked against him, her fingers in his hair, her soft breasts crushed against his chest.
When she reached between their bodies and curled her fingers around him, he had to grit his teeth to force himself not to come immediately.
“Oh, God,” she panted, lifting her head to gaze down at him, “you’re so hard. And hot.”
Oh, yeah. The things she was doing made his eyes roll back, but when she raised herself up to position him at the entrance to her body, he reacted swiftly.
“Whoa, babe!” Before she could lower herself onto his straining cock, he flipped her so that she lay beneath him on the narrow bed, her legs still curled around his hips. “I didn’t exactly come prepared for this,” he explained, seeing her confusion. “I don’t have any protection.”
She swallowed hard, and he could see indecision warring with desire in her shimmering eyes. “Well, I’m on the Pill,” she finally admitted. “And I promise you that I don’t have anything contagious or dangerous.”
Chase might have argued that, since he was pretty sure everything about her, including her smile, was dangerous to his heart, but he wasn’t a man to question good fortune.
“I just had a full battery of tests and all my shots before I came over here,” he said, not adding that he hadn’t had sex with anyone but her since before the last time he’d deployed, about eighteen months ago. “I’m squeaky-clean.”
Elena searched his eyes and gave him a smile that caused his heart to turn over in his chest. “Well, except for the dust,” she said, wiping a single finger along his jaw and showing him the reddish evidence on its tip. “Please, I don’t want to wait anymore.”
As if to emphasize her words, she arched upward, pressing herself against him. Chase groaned and she caught his face in her hands, covering his mouth in another soul-destroying kiss. But when she would have reached between their bodies to touch him, he pushed her hands over her head and held them there. He didn’t know how long he could last if she touched him again.
He dipped his head and kissed one breast, then drew her nipple into his mouth. Elena gasped. Chase smiled and released her wrists to slide his hand down her body and along the back of her thigh, lifting her leg higher and hooking it behind his back, opening her to him.
He slid his aching cock against her, feeling how warm and slick she was, and wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her heat.
“Elena,” he rasped, “I thought I could go slow, but I’m not sure I can…”
“I don’t w
ant you to go slow,” she said, pressing her hips upward. “I want you inside me now.”
Chase wanted the same thing, but his control was tenuous, at best, and he was afraid he’d lose it too soon. He eased himself into her, inch by excruciating inch, stretching and filling her, gritting his teeth against the overwhelming urge to thrust hard and deep and fast.
God. God, he could hardly stand it.
“Jesus, I’ve never done this without a condom,” he said thickly.
“Me, either,” she whispered, and arched upward, gasping his name, clutching his back and urging him closer. “Is this considered preferential treatment?”
“Oh, yeah,” he groaned.
And then he was fully seated inside her, surrounded by her silky heat, and he could feel the walls of her sex gripping him. She began to move, rocking against him. Chase rested his head against her neck and pushed deeper, and she rose up to meet him. Elena made a strangled sound of pleasure and cried his name, and that’s all it took for Chase to lose whatever restraint he had.
He thrust into her, harder, again and again, and the small sounds she made drove him over the edge, shattering his control, but it was okay because she was there, too, coming apart in his arms. His heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest, and one coherent thought managed to surface in his lust-saturated brain.
They didn’t make body armor tough enough to protect his heart from this woman.
13
ELENA LAY WITH HER HEAD on Chase’s chest, listening to the heavy thump of his heart beneath her ear. She wrapped her arms tighter around him, never wanting him to leave. Lying with him like this, she could almost forget where they were, or that they’d just survived a mortar attack.
