“Maximum damage?”
Wick contemplated my answer before he nodded. “That’s my thought as well.”
“The R and S team?” Drake queried.
Holy hell. In the bedlam that had ensued, I’d forgotten about the art gallery.
“Insertion was a no-go.” Wick’s face twisted. “Can’t say this isn’t fucked, but it’s true. That car bomb going off meant there was a mass exodus from the area.”
“So, Liberty was correct. The gallery was set?”
Wick picked up the remote, turned the wall-mounted screen on, and after a minute of fiddling with his tablet, the monitor came to life.
“Drone footage,” he clipped.
I watched in rapt horror as the Mazda exploded. Thankfully, a plume of smoke hid Trey and Luke being thrown several yards away. Wick hastily fast-forwarded the footage, the timestamp displayed twenty minutes had passed. We would’ve been on the helicopter and in the air by then. Seconds later, the gallery exploded, taking with it the restaurant, music hall, and most of the pier.
“Fuck,” Drake growled. His eyes came to mine, filled with a concern I didn’t understand.
“Casualties?” I asked.
Wick didn’t answer but his brow lifted which was an answer but Drake would’ve missed this because his gaze hadn’t left mine.
“Anyone from our team?”
“Negative. We had no assets in the area.”
That was something, but by the look of the blast, there were a lot of lives lost. Innocent lives. People dressed up to go to an art museum. People minding their own business out for a nice night at a nice restaurant. People taking a stroll down a beautiful pier.
Totally fucked.
“Go check on your men. We’ll finish this and get you all on transports home.”
Transports home?
“What about Roman?”
“What about him?” Wick returned.
“He’s still out there.”
The general’s face screwed up into a grimace. “Your ass is on a plane tonight. I’ll handle Roman.”
“But—”
“Twice,” Wick snarled. “Two times in less than two weeks your ass has been in grave danger, soldier. And I ain’t putting it out there to swing a third. You’re going home. Getting some rest. Recuperating. After thirty days of leave, we’ll reevaluate and plan.”
“Sir—”
“So help me God, Liberty…”
The man said no more. Just like last time, I knew when I’d pushed too far. There was nothing I could say that would make him change his mind, and trying would be beyond disrespectful.
“Yes, sir.”
Wick let out an audible sigh before he turned to Drake. “Logan and Matt will accompany Luke and Trey to Germany when they’re ready to be moved. You’ll stay behind for the debrief. When we’re done, you’ll be on a flight to meet them.”
“Appreciate it, sir.”
With a nod, Drake and I were dismissed.
* * *
The walk to the medical building was done in silence.
Trey and Luke weighed heavy on my mind but Drake leaving me tonight was heavier.
I knew it was coming.
I knew it would hurt.
I was wrong—it killed.
Matt and Logan met us in the small waiting area, both wearing matching expressions of concern.
They quickly filled Drake in, which wasn’t anything we hadn’t already known except that they were wheels-up in ten minutes. Trey and Luke had been stabilized and it was urgent Trey was taken to Germany so they weren’t delaying.
“Can I say goodbye?” I asked.
Logan’s eyes shifted to mine and he gave me a small shake of his head. “Sorry, darlin’. No one’s allowed back there, not even us.”
“Right.”
That killed, too.
“Tell them…”
Shit, what did I want Logan to tell them? Good luck? Hope you’re not blind. Don’t let the doctor amputate your leg? Sorry I wasn’t up for a ball massage?
I didn’t know what to say so I settled on, “Tell them I said thanks for saving my ass.”
“We’ll do.” Logan smiled.
“And um, thanks to you, too. All of you. I appreciate you guys coming out to get me. And well, taking me back in. Appreciate the lessons.”
“Anytime, ma’am.”
“Seriously?” I wrinkled my nose. We’re back to this ma’am shit?
Logan winked and pointed to the camera.
“Be well. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
I turned to leave, sensing the three men needed privacy to discuss whatever it was they discussed after a mission went sideways.
Reality was a bitch. But the truth was, as close as I felt to them, I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t a teammate.
I was a tagalong.
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing you,” Logan called out.
Not wanting to turn around, I lifted my hand and gave them a wave over my shoulder.
22
When I finally saw Trey and Luke, I understood why Logan had lied to Liberty.
He was shielding her from seeing just how fucked-up they were. They’d removed the glass from Trey’s face but now he looked like he had a hundred beestings. Luke’s pretty much looked the same with the exception of his left eye. The membrane had swelled so badly you couldn’t see the globe of his eye.
The sight was so difficult to look at, I was glad Liberty was gone even if we denied her saying her goodbyes.
She didn’t need to see this.
Long after the C-17 was airborne, I stood on the tarmac staring into the inky black sky. It was fitting there was no moon, no light shining down, no glow, no ray of hope.
Nothing.
How the hell had everything turned to shit?
My hands went to my face. The pungent smell of ash and blood filled my nostrils, reminding me I needed to clean up and talk to Wick.
The faster the better.
Like a Band-Aid—swift and painless.
Who in the fuck am I kidding? There was nothing painless about leaving Liberty.
Fucking shit.
I stalked in the direction of the showers, every step heavy, taking me to the final moments I’d have with her.
Never should’ve touched her.
Never should’ve allowed myself time with her.
Never should’ve even looked at her.
Fuck.
The door slammed behind me as I entered the shower hut. The overwhelming smell of pine-scented cleaning agent did nothing to mask the must and mildew. Water ran in one stall, leaving four others available, and I quickly removed my boots and pulled off my shirt.
A moan filled the room and I reconsidered my rinse-off. Fucking perfect—some idiot having a combat-jack was not what I wanted to hear. I decided I’d wait until after my debrief—blood, grit, and grime were better than listening to some fool whack his pud. I bent to pick up my boots when I heard it again, this time a whimper. Not one of pleasure—tortuous and painful. A sound that had my chest burning. I knew that whimper. I’d heard it before. I’d felt it seep into my soul as I held Liberty after a nightmare.
What the fuck?
Before I could think better of it, I stood half-naked in front of the shower curtain debating my next move. My hands shook with the need to console her. My heart conflicted—a burning desire to hold her but self-preservation told me to leave her be. Turn around, leave, and pretend I hadn’t heard the woman who had captured my heart moaning in pain.
A sob tore from her and my decision was made. No way in hell could I walk away. I ripped open the flimsy, white plastic. Liberty turned, eyes red-rimmed and in shock.
“What—”
I didn’t let her finish. I yanked the curtain closed, tagged her around the waist, and pulled her to my chest.
I closed my eyes and inhaled through my nose, trying my best to ignore her bare breasts against my chest, the soft curve of her hip under my palm, her wet
hair tangling in my hand as I held her to me. All of it a full assault to my senses.
All of it bad and really goddamn great at the same time, especially when her thumbs pushed into the waistband of my cargos and she held on—pulling me to her. Not letting me go. Not fighting to push away.
Moments passed and Liberty relaxed in my arms.
Soft. Sweet. Sad.
Christ, the woman had me undone.
“What are you doing in here?” she whispered.
“What are you doing in the men’s shower hut?” I returned.
“What?”
“The men’s shower hut? Why are you in here?”
Her body jerked and I fought a groan. Overlooking our state of half-dressed and undressed was becoming increasing difficult chest-to-chest with nothing between us there. But when she moved and her nipples brushed my bare skin, it wasn’t difficult, it was goddamn torture.
“I didn’t know.”
“Babe, it’s clearly marked on the door.”
“I wasn’t paying attention,” she admitted.
“Right. Now you wanna tell me why you’re in here crying?”
Liberty shook her head and I wanted to demand she stay still—every movement obliterated my good intentions. Shredded my decency. The need to touch her, run my hands over her slippery wet body, finally touch and taste every inch of her, grew at a rapid rate.
Her thumbs came out of my cargos, slid up my spine. Then her palms were flat on my back and on the move.
Christ.
Feather-light and unsure, her hands roamed my back. The feel of her touch woke every nerve ending. It wasn’t an ache, it was a deep, intense hunger to take her—make her mine.
“I don’t want to talk.” Her soft voice barely heard over the pelting water.
Then her lips were on my chest, and much like her hands on my back, her kiss was timid and soft.
“Babe, that’s not a good idea,” I warned.
Liberty didn’t heed my caution. Her confidence grew, her mouth moved, and this time the kiss over my heart was open-mouthed. She engaged her tongue and swirled it against my skin.
Fucking hell.
“We need to get out of the shower and get you dried off and dressed.”
“No, we don’t. We need to get these pants off of you.”
“Not gonna happen, Liberty.”
“Why not?”
“Because two seconds after my pants come off, I’m fucking you against the wall.”
Her body shivered and my dick jumped.
Fuck.
“Works for me,” she muttered, and to punctuate her response, her mouth found my nipple.
Another swirl of her tongue followed by a nip and my hips instinctively pressed deeper. Her moans that followed would be my undoing. My control was fast slipping, and the only hope I had of walking away was if I did it now. One more kiss, sound, or touch, and I’d snap.
“You don’t want that—”
Liberty shoved away before I could stop her and took a step back, leaving every inch of her naked body visible. And being as I was undone, my eyes hungrily took their fill. Faint bruises still marred her otherwise flawless skin. Toned, lean muscle, full breasts, hips that were made for my hands to grip when she was on her knees in front of me.
All of her perfect for me.
A work of art.
“Don’t tell me what I want.” Her eyes flashed with anger and her shoulders snapped back. The change in her posture should’ve served as a warning. However, all it did was showcase her perky tits and tight nipples.
“Liberty—”
“Don’t. Don’t say my fucking name. Don’t tell me how I feel, what I want, what I don’t want. As a matter of fact, don’t talk at all. Just fucking trust me. I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”
Her chest heaved, her hands balled into fists, and her eyes narrowed. I should’ve walked away. But I couldn’t, not from her. Not when all of her was on display, and not just her body. Every emotion played across her pretty face. Anger, hurt, desperation.
And that’s when I knew I’d give Liberty McCoy anything she wanted. And if I’d thought that before, when I was holding her in my arms after a nightmare, I’d been wrong. It was there in the shower, water cascading over her face, her blinking it away, hair stringy and matted, naked, exposed, and asking me to trust her.
“What is it you want, baby?” I asked, not the least bit embarrassed my voice was thick with the desire I felt.
“I want your pants off.”
Fuck.
Without thinking and overwhelmed, my heart slamming into my chest, my dick begging for freedom, I invited her. “Then take what you want, Liberty.”
She didn’t delay in taking what she wanted—and that was not only my pants off but her mouth on mine. Liberty’s body collided with mine, my back hit the tiled wall behind me, her hands worked the snap and zipper of my cargos, and I swear to God, I heard every snick of the metal opening. Each hook and hallow that separated was one step closer to burying myself inside her warm body.
Her hand wrapped around my cock, her mouth pulled away from mine, and she moaned as she pumped my dick.
“Serious as fuck, baby, right here, right now, need you to tell me exactly what it is you want.”
“You.”
Through gritted teeth, I inhaled the best I could, trying to keep what little semblance of control I had left and told her, “Need more than that.”
Every muscle in my body burned with the effort it took to keep myself in check when all I wanted to do was dominate. I was damn near lightheaded as my cock throbbed in her hand.
“You. All of you.”
“You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“Then show me.” Liberty’s hand tightened around my cock, her eyes went soft, and reasonable thoughts fled.
My hands went under Liberty’s ass and her hand fell away. I hoisted her up before I turned and pressed her back against the wall. One hand held her in place, the other glided between her ass cheeks, and finally slipped between her legs, finding her wet with more than water.
“Say no,” I demanded, needing to give her a chance to stop this.
My fingers continued to tease her opening, Liberty’s ragged breath came in choppy pants, my dick begged for release.
“I don’t want to.”
I could barely swallow past the lump in my throat but managed to ask one last time.
“Say no, baby.” My finger dipped into her warm, wet pussy and I lost sight of her because my eyes closed. Her low, guttural moan was the last straw. Deep, dark desire took hold.
“Too late,” I growled, and with an urgency I’d never known, I pulled my hand away, took my cock in hand, lined myself up, and slammed home.
Then I found heaven in the form of Liberty’s tight, wet pussy clutching my cock.
Her head was tipped to the side, eyes closed, back arched, arms around my neck, legs locked tight around my hips, and I was frozen. All that was her was wrapped around me, and fucking hell, it was beyond compare. Every part of me was hyper-aware of her.
“Mouth,” I grunted. Liberty righted her head and opened her eyes in question. Fucking cute as hell. “I want your mouth when I fuck you, baby,” I explained.
When her lips curved up into a smile, I swear to all things holy, I heard angels sing and sunshine warm my skin.
“Anything you want, Drake.”
Oh, yeah, fuck yeah.
With our eyes locked, I didn’t take her mouth. Instead, I unwrapped her arms from around my neck, lifted them above her head, and pinned them to the wall.
Once her pretty amber eyes sparked, I lowered my lips to her nipple and sucked it into my mouth. Her pussy pulsed, and I moved to the other side once she gave me more of the same. I lifted my head, then I took her mouth.
Hot, wet, and deep. There wasn’t one thing sweet about our bruising kiss. And when I pulled my hips back and drove home, I didn’t give her soft and tender. My pounding thrusts contradicted every
thing I felt inside. My body demanded raw and rough but my soul craved something different. The clashing emotions built higher, words I had no business saying simmered close to the surface. Requests I had no right to ask threatened to break free.
So I remained silent and took what Liberty offered—her body. I did it knowing this was goodbye. Not the last of many I wished it would be, but the last. There would be no “see you soon” when we finished. And the knowledge of that hit me with a force that would’ve brought me to my knees if Liberty’s inner muscles weren’t fluttering around my cock, and her tongue wasn’t dueling with mine.
Liberty tore her lips from mine but didn’t move far therefore when she panted, “Harder.” I felt her demand fan across my lips, burn down my chest, and that heat didn’t stop until it gathered low in my gut. With that blistering heat, I fucked her harder. Drive after drive, I listened to the sounds she made—the grunts and moans, the gasps for air as I pounded deep. So fucking sexy, I couldn’t take much more.
The end drew near.
My hand went between us, I zeroed in on her clit, and I knew I found the right rhythm when her hips tipped and her moans turned into throaty groans pleading for more.
Fuck yeah.
From there, we raced to completion. Liberty’s pussy tightened and pulsated around my cock, and in a rush of exquisite pain, my climax hit at the same time she fell over. The feel of our combined orgasm was too much. I slammed home, planted deep, and savored every last second of her pussy sucking me dry.
My head fell forward and I shoved my face into her neck, needing a few more minutes with her before the inevitable. More of her soft skin on my lips. More of her scent surrounding me. More of everything that would never actually be mine—no matter how badly I wanted her.
Liberty’s hands twisted and I released them, keeping mine braced on the wall above her head. Her hands fell over my shoulders. Her nails dug in and her breath hitched with a sound that was not sexy but final.
It might’ve made me a dick, but part of me was thrilled as fuck she felt it, too. The connection that was real and deep but any second would be severed.
The longer we stood skin-to-skin, so close I felt her heart pounding and I was sure she felt mine breaking, the harder it was to swallow those words. Plead for more time.
Taking Liberty: The Next Generation Page 16
