Guts & Glory: Brick (In the Shadows Security Book 6)

by Jeanne St. James

  He preferred to keep a woman’s hands free, as well as her mouth. Mostly because he wanted to feel their nails digging into his back. He liked when teeth sank into his skin. He liked to be scratched, sucked, licked and kissed.

  And he liked to do the same.

  He also liked to spank. Normally, he did it when taking a woman from the rear, whether doggy-style or during anal. But he hadn’t done it with Londyn earlier, because she had been on top this morning. He’d let her control the pace and the depth while he laid back and enjoyed the ride.

  But now, it would be him controlling the power behind his palm meeting her flesh.

  He didn’t want to hurt her, he only wanted to drive her out of her mind. He wanted her wet and squirming. He wanted her to ride that sharp edge until she couldn’t take anymore.

  Precum leaked from his cock at just the thought of her begging him to fuck her and make her come.

  Unfortunately, someone was going to be at that edge sooner than later and it wasn’t Londyn. He sucked air through his nostrils to tamp down his out of control thoughts.

  He brushed his open hand lightly over one of her cheeks then the other, marveling at how soft and smooth her skin was there. And she had plenty of flesh to hang onto, whether she was on top or he was taking her from behind.

  And, fuck, he liked that, too.

  “Brick.” His name trembled on her tongue and that same tremor swept through her.

  “Are you changing your mind?” Please fucking say no.

  “No. Just...”

  “Just?”

  “Please.”

  That “please” sliced through him like lightning, got caught in his gut and radiated out.

  He stepped into her side, leaned over and licked down the line of her spine, finishing with a kiss at the top of her crease. “We’ve got all night,” he murmured against her skin. “All fucking night.”

  Rising quickly, he swatted her ass and watched it ripple with the impact. She didn’t even move. The only noise that escaped her was a rush of air.

  He swatted her again on the other cheek. Again, not even the slightest movement beyond where his hand struck. But this time she groaned. It was low and long and pulled his balls tight.

  Red began to bloom along her skin, and he turned his head to glance in the mirror. Her head was down, her face hidden between her extended arms.

  “Londyn.” Her name sounded gruff to his own ears.

  She lifted her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. And he liked what he saw in them. Any doubts about herself were gone and only need remained.

  “Watch me.”

  He lifted his hand and this time she did move, only slightly. Since she could now see his movements, she was anticipating it.

  Expecting it.

  Time to distract her. “Play with yourself.”

  He expected resistance or at least a snarky comment, but she said nothing. Instead she lifted her hand to her mouth, licked two fingers slowly and sensually as he watched in the mirror and then moved them to between her legs.

  Fuck. She could very well slay him with those very two fingers. Just like a sword.

  But now he regretted her being in the position she was in—bent over with her ass exposed—because he wanted to watch everything she was doing. Whatever she was doing to make her eyelids heavy, her mouth open and her body tremble. In fact, fuck the spanking, he wanted to watch Londyn make herself come. Not just the woman in the flesh before him, but the one in the mirror. It would be a three-sixty experience.

  An experience burned into his brain forever.

  But she wanted to be spanked and he should at least make an effort before she drove him to flipping her around and fucking her right there on the bathroom counter.

  He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on her ass, which was still showing a bit of pink, and give her a few more strikes with his hand so she’d feel it for a while afterward, especially when he propped her ass on the edge of the counter.

  This time as she watched him, she didn’t flinch or move when his palm cracked her ass so hard it even stung his own hand.

  Damn.

  Even though he was pushing his own limits, he would do it once more on the other cheek to make sure the flush of her skin was even. As he lifted his hand, hers moved faster between her legs and when he made contact with her rear, she cried out and jerked.

  It wasn’t from the spanking.

  Fuck no. Her legs wobbled as she orgasmed, her eyes closed, and her head fell back.

  Now that look of bliss was beautiful.

  Everything about her was beautiful.

  After a last glance at his handiwork, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her to a stand and twisted her around. “Ass on the counter, legs spread.”

  She didn’t scramble to do his bidding. Hell no, she took her time, teasing him.

  Before she could haul herself up, he had his hands on her waist and lifted her to right where he wanted her. “Spread yourself.”

  Her whisper was husky. “Where?”

  “You know where.”

  Her knees went wide, and her fingers slid through her shiny, plump folds in a V as she offered herself to him.

  He dropped to his knees, burying his face between her thighs. Not at all being gentle.

  Her scent was all woman. Her taste addictive.

  And he lost himself in her while bringing her to that peak once more. The room filled with whimpers and cries and, even better, whispers of his name. Her nails scraped along the sides of his scalp when she came again, bucking against his mouth, driving herself down on the fingers he had plunged deep inside her. He waited her out, sucking lightly on her clit and when every muscle went liquid, he stood, dropped his shorts to his feet and stepped between her thighs.

  Because that was where he needed to be.

  Between warm, soft thighs that hugged him, slick with her arousal.

  His intent was only to kiss her. To share the same taste he now recognized as hers.

  And as he did so, he slid his throbbing cock through her slickness, wanting to ditch the condom. Not wanting a damn thing between them.

  And that made the hairs at the back of his neck prickle.

  He never even considered taking a woman ungloved before. Not once.

  He had no idea why now. Why with her?

  It was stupid.

  Reckless.

  And he knew better.

  But he still struggled with not wanting to just drive deep inside her. Feel that wet heat surrounding him, drawing him in.

  Shutting the whole world out but her...

  Her next words slapped some sense into him. Thank fuck.

  “I got tested after finding out Kevin was cheating on me with his own wife. When’s the last time you’ve been tested?”

  While this was not a discussion he wanted to have at this very moment, it was an important one.

  She was making him lose his mind, but she was also pulling him back to reality.

  “A month ago.”

  “And you’ve...”

  He dropped his head until they were making direct eye contact because he wasn’t going to deny it. “Yeah.”

  It was there and gone in a flash. But he recognized it.

  Disappointment.

  Even though it was unrealistic.

  Especially since he never denied who he was or how he was.

  And if he did, she wouldn’t believe him anyway. He never hid the fact that his life revolved around two things.

  His team and hookups.

  Like he accepted her as she came, she needed to accept him.

  There had been plenty before her and there’d be plenty after, but right now it was just the two of them in that room. In the here and now.

  Unfortunately, the room they were in didn’t have any condoms. Fortunately, the room attached to it did. They would just have to shift their activity to the bed.

  So, that was what he did.

  Sated and spent, Londyn laid across Brick�
��s hard-as-a-brick-wall chest as it rose and fell quickly. Her cheek pressed over his heart, which still pounded a rapid beat. Her eyes were focused, not on him, but the dog tags sitting within reach on the nightstand.

  The ones she’d removed from him. The ones he’d tucked into his pocket because she had a feeling he didn’t like to be without them.

  She reached out and, with one finger, drew them across the polished wood top of the stand. When they were at the edge, she flipped one of the tags over and read the stamped words.

  Most of them were self-explanatory. The rest she could guess.

  Her thumb swiped over his name.

  Briggs

  Ramsey W.

  “Ramsey is your first name, not your last.” Brick had introduced himself to Chris Kramer as Seamus Ramsey. She’d thought he’d pulled that last name out of thin air.

  His rough voice rumbled through her cheek. “Yeah.”

  “Anyone call you Ramsey?” The name felt odd on her tongue. But, in reality, it was no odder than calling him Brick.

  “No.”

  She raised a brow. “No one?”

  “My parents and grandparents when I got in trouble.”

  “What did they call you when you weren’t in trouble?”

  His deep chuckle shook her. “I was always in trouble.”

  Londyn smiled. “Where did Brick come from?”

  “You mean where did I grow up?”

  “No. The nickname.”

  “Got it during sniper school. I was told that I was as steady as a brick. And from there, Briggs somehow morphed into Brick. It stuck.” He lazily combed his finger through her mess of hair spread over his chest. “There’s also a quote by Lycurgus of Sparta. ‘That city is well fortified which has a wall of men instead of brick.’ One of my early spotters turned it around to: ‘That city is well fortified which has a Brick instead of a wall of men.’”

  She let that sink in for a moment. “Which meant you were good enough that an army wasn’t needed to protect a city. They only needed you.”

  He jolted slightly beneath her. “Which is complete bullshit.”

  “There has to be some truth to it.”

  “I couldn’t save everybody,” he mumbled. He surged up, dislodging her from her comfortable position. “Gotta get rid of this.” As soon as he was on his feet, he pulled off the condom. But before walking away, he snagged his dog tags from her fingers and fisted them tightly. “I feel naked without them. They’ve been a piece of me for so long.”

  “Your service was a big part of your life.”

  “It was my life. For a long fucking time.” With that, he crossed the room and tucked the tags into the duffel bag which sat on the floor in a corner. When he straightened, he tossed an open box of condoms onto the bed. “For later.”

  “How much later?” she asked his back as he disappeared into the bathroom.

  “You’ll know as soon as I do.”

  She was still grinning when she heard the toilet flush and the sink run. She rolled to her side to make sure she had an unobstructed view of his nakedness as he prowled across the room back to the bed.

  His eyes were on her and she didn’t think there was an inch left on her untouched by the time he climbed back into bed.

  Funny. For the first time, she hadn’t felt the urge to cover herself up.

  He said he liked her the way she was. She could believe him, or she could wonder if they were only hooking up because they were stuck together in this situation and she was convenient.

  Either way, she liked the way he looked at her. It didn’t seem forced or fake. His eyes always warmed when she was naked.

  Even better, his cock always got hard. So maybe that was a sign it was all true.

  As he settled onto his back, he tucked one arm behind his head and wrapped the other around her to pull her closer. But before he could plaster her to his side, she touched the tattoo on his left ribcage, which made him go solid.

  The tattoo was hard to ignore, but she hadn’t asked about it yet since she’d figured it was personal.

  Still... They’d gotten intimate, so maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing.

  Or maybe she was just overthinking it and it was simply a tattoo. However, it was the only mark on his body besides the scar from his childhood injury.

  She traced the outer edge once and on her second go-around she asked, “Are you religious?”

  In the center of his solid tattoo were the letters and numbers: Cor 9:27.

  While growing up, their parents had never once taken Parris and her to church, but even Londyn recognized what the combination was referring to.

  “As a kid, my parents used to drag me to church every Sunday. Sometimes more, depending on how much trouble I got into during the week. But no, I lost my faith a long time ago.”

  “Then why do you have a bible passage on your ribs?”

  He glanced down at it with feigned surprise. “Is that what it is?”

  Londyn laughed and whacked his chest half-heartedly. “Even I recognize it.”

  “Then you know what it means.”

  “No, I don’t know any bible passages. I mean, I recognize it’s a specific passage but not what that passage says.”

  “It has to do with discipline. And, of course, being religious nuts, my parents knew how to dish it out. Once I ‘found my way’—as my mother told me when I enlisted in the Navy—my life became all about a different type of discipline with both my dedication to serving my country, as well as my mind and body. Joining the Navy, becoming a SEAL, gave me all of that and then some.”

  The way he mentioned how his parents were religious nuts and how they knew how to dish out discipline made her wonder if he even had a relationship with them any longer. Or if his parents were long gone like her own.

  “Are they still around?”

  “Who?”

  “Your parents.”

  “I guess so.”

  “You don’t know?” That was strange. She couldn’t imagine not knowing whether her parents were alive or dead. She only wished she could have had more time with them.

  “Once I went into the Navy, I lost contact with them.”

  “On purpose?”

  “Londyn...” He blew out a breath. She didn’t think he would answer, but a few seconds later, he continued. “While they were happy I joined the Navy, they weren’t happy that I actually had to... kill people. I’m not sure what they thought the military entailed. It’s certainly not the fucking Peace Corps.”

  “You broke one of the commandments.” Thou shalt not kill.

  “I guess they thought I could serve our country without seeing active duty. I might have gotten away with it if I hadn’t become a SEAL. It was that choice they disapproved of.”

  Now, it made more sense. While they liked the thought of him being a patriot and serving his country, when he’d become a SEAL and then a sniper, he’d taken it too far.

  “I’ve seen on TV some of the training SEALs are put through. Seems intense and enough to break someone.”

  “Yeah,” was all he breathed. “Some broke.”

  “But not you.” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “You were successful.”

  Again, he didn’t respond. However, she was enjoying this post-coital conversation and wasn’t ready for it to end. Plus, she really did want to know what his tattoo meant to him.

  She traced the letters and numbers in the center of the tattoo. “What does the passage mean?”

  He snagged her hand, stopping her movement and gave her fingers a squeeze. “There are many interpretations, but this one fits me the best: But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”

  She boiled that down to, “Meaning you practice what you preach?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “I can’t judge you for being what and who you are without judging myself.”

  “That’s what it means?”

  “That’s what it means
to me.” Then he just shut his mouth and stopped talking. Again.

  Londyn wanted to scream. Maybe her asking about his tattoo took him somewhere he didn’t want to go. A trigger of sorts.

  On the surface Brick didn’t seem bogged down. The man could joke, play around and be almost as chatty as her one moment, then shut down and retreat the next. Every so often, a glimpse of something deeper, darker appeared. Not often, but she’d caught it a few times.

  Most likely due to those invisible scars he mentioned. Scars caused by something more complicated than falling off a bike. Scars that may never fade like that six-inch line on his thigh.

  They’d only known each other a few days, so she didn’t know all his moods and, for the most part, during that time he’d been open, warm and funny.

  Did she want to scratch below the surface? Hell yes. While she wasn’t a certified therapist like her sister, she always was curious about how people “ticked,” which lead her to becoming a substance abuse counselor. Four years of college to become one had been more than enough for her. She had no desire to chase her master’s degree like Parris.

  She turned her face up toward him. He was staring at the ceiling. Was he reliving his time with what sounded like strict, religious parents? Or his time in the service? Or whatever caused him to retire from the Navy after working hard to become not only a SEAL but a sniper?

  That decision to leave couldn’t have come easy. You couldn’t just quit being a SEAL sniper like a kid working at a fast food restaurant at the end of summer break.

  His blue eyes held something she couldn’t read when they tipped down to her. He had taken off his glasses earlier and she didn’t think he had replaced them with his contacts.

  She wondered how bad his sight truly was. “Can you see me without your glasses or contacts?”

  Instead of just his eyes, he dipped his head down toward her. “Yeah.”

  “Clearly?”

  Did he roll those eyes of his at her?

  “Londyn... You’ve got some shit you need to let go of.”

  He should talk. “I’m sure I’m not the only one in this bed who does.”