Live By The Team (Team Fear Book 1)

by Skaggs, Cindy

  “That attitude led to the Alamo.” Rose stepped closer to the petite woman.

  “And here I thought you were the sweet one,” Debi said. “This ranch is all I have left. You don’t want to hang around, Rosie, there’s the door.”

  The words mirrored what Rose had told Ryder outside in the truck. The smirk on Ryder’s face would earn him a face punch if Rose saw it, so Ryder rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep it shut.

  Rose’s big shoulder’s hunched, and he took a step back. “I’ll take first watch.”

  “You do that.” Ryder bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Rosie.”

  “I’m not going to live that down, am I?” Rose paused for an answer with a hand on the front doorknob.

  “Not as long as I’m drawing breath, but my expiration date is coming due.”

  “We can only hope.”

  As long as he had time left, he was spending it right. Lauren’s sweet body called him from the other room. “I’ll catch a few hours.”

  “Hold up.” Rose’s beefy hand grabbed Ryder’s arm before he could retreat. “I’m calling it, Ry. We need backup.”

  The night had blown any plans of keeping the team out of it. The two men they faced were well trained and well equipped, not some gangbangers playing at war. Ryder wanted to give the team a little peace before hell rained down, but he didn’t have the luxury. He felt the failure to the pit of his black soul. “Fuck.” He dug his hands through his hair in frustration. The last thing he wanted was pull the team into his mess, but Smythe had raised the stakes. “Make some calls. See if we have anyone on this side of the Mississippi willing to...”

  Debi frowned. “Willing to what?”

  Willing to put their asses on the line for an old army buddy. He glanced at Rose. “At the very least, see if Craft can hook us up with better communication devices, maybe help set up electronic surveillance.”

  Rose rubbed his hands together. “Rock and roll, baby. We’re getting the band back together.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Dumbass,” Ryder muttered, but as he walked down the hall, a smile eased the burden he’d carried like a sixty-pound pack on his shoulders. For six months, he had been putting out fires and watching their lives fall apart. Every single teammate was angry and paranoid and withdrawn. It was time to share the burden.

  They should all think twice about getting involved. The number one priority was to stay off the radar, because Captain Johnson—or his superiors—would eliminate the threat if they continued to kill themselves in ways guaranteed to draw media attention. They were walking a very thin line, but Rose was right. They worked better as a team, and once they figured out the deal with Smythe, they could concentrate their efforts on the bigger problem. The contracts they’d signed when they joined Team Fear had so many pages of small print, there was probably an addendum that covered the eventuality that they became a risk to themselves and others.

  So getting the band back together had landmines as large as the ones that had sent them out of the Army in the first place, but staying apart hadn’t worked out well for any of them. It was harder to put out the fires alone.

  A problem for another day. Ryder closed the door behind him. The window on the south side was a security concern. The easy entrance on the backside of the house included no visibility from the highway. If Ryder wanted in the house, the bedroom window was the stealthiest route, so he had to figure the baddies from earlier would think the same, but he’d put his life in Rose’s hands more than once, and he had to trust him now. He checked the lock, pulled the blinds closed and called it good. Live by the team meant you trusted your teammates with your life.

  He stripped off his clothes and helped Lauren out of hers. She mumbled and turned into him as he slid next to her, his feet dangling off the end of the small bed. He pulled the blanket to cover her bare shoulders. Damn, but he wanted her. Always would, but bringing the team to help could put her in the bulls eye of something far deadlier than Smythe’s games. They were damned either way, but he’d brought both problems to her door. He’d fix both or die trying.

  Lauren turned again and settled her bare ass against Ryder’s crotch. His IQ dropped. He took a deep breath and wrapped an arm over her midriff. For what was left of the night, they had Rose keeping watch and Smythe’s men had been routed. He’d celebrate with sleep and deal with the rest after sunrise.

  The sun burned through the pretty pink curtains, casting judgment with its harsh morning rays. Lauren squinted against a stabbing headache, not ready to face the day alone. There was a reason tequila was not her friend. The clatter of dishes in the other room, remnants of last night’s debauchery, reminded her of the promise she’d made to herself. She controlled her destiny. Period.

  Lauren cupped a hand over her eyes to block the sun. She’d dreamed of Ryder, could have sworn she slept in his arms, surrounded by his warm body and smoky scent. The sensory memory lingered on the pink and blue bedding, leather and smoke and mystery. Lauren punched the empty pillow beside her before sitting up to face reality. She slipped from the bed and plodded into the guest bath, moving at the speed of a geriatric patient.

  Peeling wallpaper covered the room, faded like bones in the desert sun. Lauren avoided the mirror and climbed into the white tiled tub. The shower beat over her wrecked body like a miracle, washing away grime and tequila and a hangover from hell. Not to mention body aches from the accident. Lauren groaned into the spray. Where was Rose with his Vitamin M when she really needed him? Oh yeah, she’d banned Ryder and Rose until noon.

  Warm water slid over her skin, and she turned to face the flow, hungry for the healing water. Hands grabbed her from behind and she screamed, turned, and would have slipped in conditioner if Ryder hadn’t clasped his hands at her waist and held her upright. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He dropped a kiss to her lips, but she was in too much shock to respond. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, staring up at him like an infatuated child. Her heart still hammered from his sudden appearance. Proclamations were one thing, but she hadn’t expected to face him so soon. Her mouth opened before her brain engaged. “You’ll always protect me. Right?”

  “Right.” He brushed wet hair off her cheek. “We’ll figure this out quicker now that Craft showed up.”

  The deal with Smythe wasn’t really on her mind. Last night’s inebriated plan was to stay endangered. Ryder wouldn’t leave if he had to protect her, but tequila aside, the plan had serious flaws.

  He helped rinse the remaining conditioner from her hair, his hands gentle and soothing, massaging away the pain, but his touch didn’t reach the hollow ache in her chest where soul-deep longing lived. She wanted Ryder, wanted a life with him, but that meant trusting him to stay. To get what she wanted, she’d have to fight, but first she needed a sleeve of saltine crackers and a gallon of water. Speaking of which. “What are you doing here? I told you I didn’t want to see you before noon.” So she’d have time to deal with the aftereffects of the night before. Plus, she’d been so angry.

  “Debi let us in.”

  “Really?”

  He smoothed her hair back behind her ear. “After Rose and I fought off the bad guys.”

  The spray hit her upturned face. “You’re making that up.”

  “Nope. While you were passed out like a drunk in an alley, two men approached on foot.”

  The whole drunk thing wasn’t something she was proud of in the light of day. Embarrassed heat warmed her cheeks. “If we could not talk about last night…”

  “What are you willing to do to table that discussion?”

  She choked out a laugh. Trust him to go straight for the kill. A grin aggravated her sore lip, but not enough to squelch the humor. “I think you know exactly how far I’ll go.”

  “Good to know.” Ryder grabbed the bar of soap. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he lathered the soap in his hands. The muscles in his arms flexed with each slow movement. The lather showed white against the ta
n on his arms, the contrast sexy.

  Lauren licked her lips, her eyes fixated on Ryder’s strong hands that led to his muscular arms, strong shoulders, and hard cut body. He scrubbed a hand over his midsection where a thick band of discoloration formed mere inches from the stitches in his gut.

  Lauren gasped and reached to touch the darkening skin with shaky fingers. Tears burned her eyes. Knowing he was a soldier was one thing, but seeing him battered was a reality that hurt. “Did this happen last night?”

  “I’ll live.” He lathered more soap and brushed it over her chest. The silky slide of his soapy hands had her leaning closer. She bit back a moan, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “I can’t keep my hands off you,” he said, his tone husky.

  As distractions went, his touch was effective. She closed her eyes as he soaped the sensitive skin of her breasts, circling and teasing until he tweaked her nipples. Holy hell, the nerves spiked straight to her crotch, but considering all they’d been through in the last few days, maybe now wasn’t the time. She ran a finger over his bruise and around the puckered stitches. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He chuckled, the sound reverberating in the small shower. “Making love to you could never hurt.”

  “Oh.” The seductive words silenced her. He always knew exactly what to say. It might not be fairytale love, and it certainly wasn’t easy, but— “I’m not letting you go.” She grabbed his forearms as if the move would tie them together. Her body fell in line and her thighs softened. Her nipples hardened.

  “Then why did you go to a divorce attorney?”

  Lauren froze in the shower spray. She didn’t want a divorce. She’d only gone to the lawyer in desperation, and now Ryder thought—

  “Turn around.” His voice dropped into a seductive tone. “I’ll wash your back.”

  The revelation shattered her nerves. He knew she’d been to a divorce attorney, but what did he think about it? Did he think that put them on the same page? “We need to finish this conversation.” She didn’t want him thinking that she was seeking an escape.

  “After the shower.” Ryder turned her away from him, so she didn’t have his expression to judge his mood. He soaped her back before his slick caresses circled her butt cheeks. He stepped into her and rubbed his chest across her back, lathering them both. Heating them both. He pulled her hair aside and nipped and kissed the back of her neck, sending feel-good vibes through her body. It was the best kind of high. “Talk,” she insisted.

  “Later.” He ground his hips, pressing his erection on her soapy skin, her heart tripped into triple time. Her internal walls clenched with need. She gyrated her hips, gliding her backside over his lower body. He cupped her breasts, teasing while her lower body’s frantic moves spoke of her desire.

  Ryder dropped the bar of soap and it slid down her body, crashing to the floor of the tub. “I should get that.”

  “Don’t.” He felt too good next to her skin and she didn’t want to lose the heat.

  Arms encircling her, he kissed his way down her spine, his hands trailing her front leaving suds in his wake. His teeth nipped her ass and his hand cupped her core.

  Lauren moaned. She’d come right here and right now, if he’d just move his hand. “Ah.” She was beyond words. Turned on, her sensitive skin begging for his touch. Then his big hands moved to her inner thighs. They widened to make room—yes, please—but he continued his trail of torture down her body, spreading seeds of desire. She’d never been this clean or felt this needy. His mouth trailed heat from his kisses while his hands shattered her control.

  Control? Hell, she had no control when he touched her.

  Then he stopped. Released her. Lauren opened her eyes, disoriented. Seconds later, he grabbed her hips and yanked her down to his lap.

  She half screamed when her feet spilled from under her. He flipped her so she straddled him, her knees knocking the sides of the tub. She knew exactly what he had in mind. “There’s not enough room in this guest bath.”

  “Wanna bet?” He kissed her neck while his hands pressed her lower back, levering her closer to his erection and shooting sparks through her body. She arched her pelvis forward, grinding against him. The hot shower beat against her back, keeping her warm and wet and unbelievably ready.

  “Remember that hotel in Austin?” Their honeymoon, such as it was, a few days before his last deployment.

  He found the soap and used it to slick up her thighs and smooth the slow grind. “We yanked the curtain rod from the wall.” He laughed. “Baby, you’re far more flexible than I knew.”

  “It was mortifying.” The maid had called the manager while they’d been out to lunch.

  “Worth every cent.”

  “If we ruin Debi’s shower, I’ll have to find a new best friend.”

  Ryder’s hands slipped down to cup her ass. “Might be worth the cost.”

  Lauren teased his erection with her cleft, hitting just the right spot—

  He lifted her off his lap, the easy strength making her wet and ready. The new position put her chest in front of him, and he took advantage by sucking one nipple in his mouth. Her internal muscles tightened, flexed around her empty core. “Ry?”

  He switched to the other nipple, sucking until it beaded hard in his warm mouth. “Mm?”

  “I need you.”

  “Anytime, baby.” He switched back to the first nipple.

  “How about now?” She wrapped a hand around his erection.

  He leaned his head against the shower wall and slowly lowered her. She guided him inside. So. Damn. Slow. The way he filled her set off mini-explosions. Her breath went rough, panting out until she had taken him fully and was seated on his lap.

  “You’re on top, baby. You set the pace.”

  She started slow until they were both wet, as slick as the soap, then she moved to a slow grind, rubbing her clit against his pelvis.

  “That’s it.” He grabbed her hips and strengthened her moves, putting more force into her groove so each time she rubbed his pelvis, another round of explosions, small, electrical volts shot through her core. She rested her hands on his shoulders to hang on as her body took over, moving faster, her knees hitting the sides of the tub, the smack of flesh on flesh. Dear God, her head fell back as the orgasm threatened.

  Ryder grabbed her waist and slammed her down as he thrust; hitting so deep it triggered the orgasm. Wave after wave shot through her entire body. She held her breath to keep from screaming as he stroked through his orgasm, extending their pleasure, until she flopped, boneless, against his chest, still straddling him. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, her breath panting against his skin. “You killed me.”

  “Not even close.” He ran a hand up her spine and back to land on her backside. “You have a very fine ass, Mrs. Ryder.”

  “Same goes, Mr. Ryder.”

  His shoulders tensed beneath her lips, so Lauren leaned back. A muscle ticked at his temple. “What’s wrong?” When he didn’t answer, she thought through her last words trying to decipher the tension. Her words, Mr. Ryder, a reminder that he was a civilian now. “I’m sorry, Ry.” Lauren grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged so he’d meet her gaze. “You’re more than the Army, and you’ll always be Ryder.”

  A knock pounded on the door. Lauren jumped, and he slid free.

  “Hey, there are other people in the house wanting hot water.” Debi yelled through the door. “And we’re not getting lucky, so we need it more.”

  A warm flush climbed her neck and face to contrast to the cold shower water hitting her back. Was Debi guessing or had she actually heard them? There was only so much she was willing to share with her best friend. Lauren straightened to climb to her feet, but Ryder held her still. “Quit it,” she whispered. Embarrassment coated her words. “This is as bad as Austin.”

  “Not quite.” His chest shook with laughter. “The shower rod is still standing.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “The dirty son of a dog.” Lauren
yanked on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt, dressing for battle, the most important of her life, and she was seriously hung over. She couldn’t believe Ryder left when he promised to finish the conversation after the shower. After the sex. Man, did he know how to distract her, but she couldn’t go the rest of the day, even another hour, with him believing she wanted a divorce. The scent of coffee led her to the farm kitchen. All three soldiers quit talking when she walked in. “I hate that,” she muttered.

  The smell of coffee and bacon reminded her of the lazy Sunday mornings she’d once planned to have with Ryder. This morning, Debi was cooking. She lifted the coffee pot from the warmer. “Want a cup?”

  “I really don’t.” She turned to face the men at the breakfast table. Laptops were open along with notebooks, pens, and half-filled coffee cups. The soldiers stared like she was a three-headed goat. “Ryder, can I have a word with you?”

  “We’re in the middle of something.”

  “And before that, we were in the middle of a conversation.” The three-headed goat thing might actually happen as her brain rattled and shook, ready to explode. She turned her attention to Rose, trying to think of a way to get him out of the room. “I could really use some Vitamin M.” She turned her gaze to the new man. “It’s good to see you again, Sergeant Craft. Can you give me and my husband a minute?”

  Behind her, Debi turned off the stove, the knob turning with a sharp click, and her heeled boots clomped on the wood floor and faded as she went to the back of the house. Rose and Craft remained seated, glancing at Ryder for direction. She lifted her brow at her husband. “You really want to do this in front of your men?”

  Ryder pushed back the chair with a harsh scrape and rose to his feet. He wore dust-colored cargo pants and a matching t-shirt, and he looked just as strong, as solid, as he had in uniform. “Do you?”

  Not particularly, but they needed to talk about the attorney. About the aborted divorce. She turned her gaze from the men at the table, knowing they’d wait for orders. “We can do this here.” She’d rather get Ryder alone and she knew one sure way to get the soldiers the hell away from the very private conversation she needed to have with her husband. “I don’t appreciate the way you ran off after the shower. You don’t get to ‘hit it and quit it’ with your wife.”