Hope's Delta (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Delta Team Three Book 5)

by Riley Edwards

  “Baby?”

  “Bulldoze,” Hope found herself muttering. “Please, don’t let up.”

  Unconsciously, without thought, consideration, and on impulse alone, her nails dug into Beau’s shoulders until he hissed in pain. “Promise me, Beau. Swear it. You won’t let me go.”

  “Swear, Hope, I won’t let you go, baby.”

  “Push hard, Beau. Even when I fight you, push. Don’t let me leave you.”

  “Look at me.”

  “I am.”

  “You’re looking, but you’re not seeing me. I’m not gonna let you go.”

  A tidal wave of emotions crashed over her, bringing with it a surge of adrenaline. She was doing this. She’d given him permission to push, she wasn’t completely sure what that meant, but she was sure Beau wouldn’t allow her to change her mind.

  Not that she wanted to.

  She wanted more.

  “We got this,” Beau told her.

  “Got what?”

  “This. All of it. We’ll see you through.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, even though she wasn’t a hundred percent convinced.

  “Relax, baby.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  Beau’s hand on her hip moved, taking with it the cotton of her tee until he hit bare skin.

  “We got this,” he repeated and trailed his fingers across Hope’s belly. “Now relax and kiss me.”

  “I’m not sure kissing you will help me relax,” she told Beau as she leaned forward.

  Just as her lips touched his, he muttered, “But the orgasm will.”

  Beau put pressure on the back of her neck, their mouths collided, he gave her approximately three seconds of control, then he took over.

  Hope trembled as his hand skimmed up her torso. His fingers glided under her breast before he lifted it, his thumb brushed over her nipple, and she moaned.

  Beau growled and Hope twitched.

  She became acutely aware she was on his lap sans panties—wet and ready with only a few swipes of his tongue against hers and his hand on her breast. His hands moved again and the tee was gone. Beau tossed it to the side, then his hands were back, this time on her ass. He shifted Hope forward without breaking the kiss, maneuvering her so he could yank his shorts down.

  Skin to skin.

  With his cock free, his hands went back to her ass and he moved her again. This time, her wetness coated his erection and he groaned. The sound vibrated against her chest, slid down her throat, and set her on fire. Every inch of her heated, from her pussy, to her tits, to her sensitive nipples rubbing against his muscled chest.

  Beau stopped kissing her long enough to demand, “Put me inside you, baby.”

  Hot.

  Hope shifted, lifted her hips, reached between them, and without delay sank down the length of his cock.

  Heaven.

  She mewed. He grunted and she tasted that, too, the sound of his pleasure as his fingers curled harder on her bottom as he thrust up.

  Hope rocked her hips and Beau tore his mouth from hers. Before she could protest, his head dipped and he latched onto her nipple, swirling his tongue around the hard peak.

  “Beau.”

  “Harder, Hope, take me deeper.”

  He was as deep as he could go. She felt him everywhere—womb, clit, tits—hell, her toes tingled with excitement. But Beau wouldn’t be denied. He thrust up as he pulled her down until Hope shuddered and desire flooded between her thighs.

  Beau’s palms slid up her back and his arms went around her, cocooning her close. His face shoved into her neck and his tongue swept the skin there before he muttered, “You feel like heaven, baby. Your pussy snug around my cock, grinding down, your tits on my chest, all of it sweet, all of it feels good. But when you lose yourself and I hear you moan my name, knowing the only thing you’re feeling, the only thing you’re thinking about, is me, Christ, nothing better.”

  Hope’s head dropped forward. Heat seared through her and her hands clutched his shoulders as she rocked harder, reaching for her orgasm. It was right there, dancing at the surface, ready to break and crash over her, but she wanted him with her.

  “Beau, baby, come with me.”

  “Fuck,” he snarled and tightened his arms around her, leaving her fighting for oxygen. But she didn’t care about breathing. She was lost in him. He was right—all she could think about, feel, smell, was him. “Now, baby. Come.”

  And on his command, she flew apart. But she needn’t have worried, Beau was there. He’d hold her together.

  Chapter 12

  “So,” Woof drawled. “You and Hope finally decided to come out, huh?”

  Jangles glanced up from the intel report across the table to his friend. “Come again?”

  “We see how it is, friend,” Zip put in, and Jangles’ gaze sliced to him in time to watch Zip smile. “For months, you keep Hope hidden away in your Palace of Pleasure, then one day you decide to let her come up for air and you go out with Merlin and don’t bother to call the rest of us.”

  “Palace of Pleasure? Where do you come up with that shit?” Jangles laughed.

  “It just pops into my head.” Zip shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

  “It’s really not.”

  As amusing as Zip’s comment was, Jangles’ smile waned. Then something ugly hit him square in the chest. Just last night, he’d told Hope she wasn’t a secret, and he’d been feeling no small amount of guilt for keeping their relationship quiet for as long as he had.

  “Right place, right time,” Merlin joined in. “We caught them as they were both coming up for air.”

  Jesus.

  “Does this mean you’re done keeping her sequestered? Or was shooting and lunch a one-off?” Woof jabbed.

  “They looked pretty cozy—”

  “You done?” Jangles cut off Merlin, deciding he’d heard enough of the good-natured ribbing. It was no more than what he’d done to them when they’d hooked up with their women, but their commander would be walking in any minute, and Jangles had barely gone over the report in front of him. “Yes, I’m with Hope. No, I’m not hiding her. And, yes, you’ll be seeing more of her.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna give us?” Zip asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Well, that was short and succinct. I’ve heard Duff give more of an explanation than that,” Woof complained.

  Duff grunted. He was a man of few words so this was not surprising.

  “There’s nothing to explain,” Jangles told him.

  “Seriously?” Woof pushed. “You don’t tell anyone. You don’t bring her around. At least tell us how long you’ve been seeing her.”

  “How long have we lived here?” Jangles answered.

  “Damn. That long?” Zip asked.

  “Yep. Asked her out the first night we went to the Ugly Mug.”

  Duff snorted but wisely didn’t call Jangles on his loose use of the term ‘ask out’. And in an effort to ward off further comments, Jangles went back to the file in front of him and three out of the four men in the conference room busted a gut laughing at him. They did this loud and long. Duff chuckled, but being as Duff was stingy with his words, he was more so with his smiles and showing emotion—even happiness wasn’t something he did regularly.

  Thankfully, the door opened and Commander Rouvin “Roe” Turano walked in.

  “One of you idiots forgot to turn your phone off before you tossed it in the box,” Roe announced. “Merlin, go see whose it is.”

  Wordlessly, Merlin made his way to the door and slipped out, he did this while Roe was still muttering, “Goddamned fuckin’ phones. Still hearing it clatter away even when they’re in the—”

  Roe stopped bitching because Merlin came back in with a ringing phone in his hand and a tight scowl. Jangles hoped like hell the phone was not his. A midday smoke session didn’t sound like fun. Roe was normally levelheaded but that didn’t mean he couldn’t and wouldn’t crawl up your ass if you crossed him. And hi
s mood suggested someone hadn’t crossed him—they’d pissed in his Wheaties and he was looking to release some hostility.

  All eyes sliced to Merlin, but Merlin’s eyes were on Zip.

  “Fuck,” Zip muttered and stepped forward to take his phone. He quickly declined the call, but before Roe could rip him a new one, it started ringing again.

  “Answer it,” Roe snarled.

  Zip brought the phone to his ear, and with supreme impatience, he answered, “Yeah?” Zip’s torso jerked, then he stood frozen. “Come again?” Another pause, this one longer, and frozen turned to vibrating fury. “Exactly when and where was the last time you saw her?”

  No sooner did the words leave Zip’s mouth, Roe went on alert.

  What the fuck is going on?

  “When does the flight leave?” Zip continued. “What’s the protocol? Do you leave without her?”

  A string of curse words came from Roe, and Zip’s narrowed eyes hit the commander.

  “Right. Then text me the number to the TSA agent and call me when you land.” Zip disconnected and flinched before he announced. “Destiny didn’t make the flight.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?” Jangles asked.

  “It means, no one’s seen her. They landed twenty-five minutes ago. She got off the plane to go grab lunch for her and Libby and never made it back to the plane. At first, Libby thought there was a long line and that’s why she was late, but the aircraft doors are getting ready to close and they’re leaving without her. The airline alerted TSA and they’re looking for her.”

  “Cell phone?” Duff inquired.

  “On the plane.”

  “Did they call her over the airport PA?” Woof asked.

  “Yep.” Zip’s phone chimed in his hand and he looked down at the message. “Libby texted me the number to TSA and the airline.”

  Roe cleared his throat and Jangles turned his attention back to his commanding officer. The man looked positively irate and guilty as fuck.

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Jangles questioned. He’d kept his eyes locked to Roe’s so he didn’t miss the flinch.

  “Fuck,” he repeated on a tight growl. “Fucking hell. Shut the door.”

  “Roe—”

  “I know what you’re gonna say, Zip, but before you tear out of here, I need a word. Merlin, shut the door. Zip, power off your phone.”

  Both men did as instructed while Jangles, Woof, and Duff remained where they were.

  “Last night we received new intel that Onur Demir is alive,” Roe announced, and the air around him charged.

  Jangles heard Woof suck in a breath and his gaze snapped to his friend.

  “Did you just say Demir is alive?” Zip sneered.

  “Affirmative,” Roe said.

  “How is that possible?” Woof scoffed. “Demir was taken out by an airstrike.”

  “Bad intel.”

  “And this intel is good?”

  Roe went to his laptop, and a few seconds later, an image flashed on the big screen mounted on the wall.

  Onur Demir alive and well.

  Jangles would never forget his face. The team had spent every day for a week in the man’s compound while Eleanor “Nori” Bonham tried to negotiate a treaty of sorts. The U.S. wanted Demir’s help stopping new shipments of guns and munitions from getting into the hands of ISIS, something the dictator of Kazarus happily provided. Nori was on the cuff of brokering the deal when the U.S. got impatient. A secondary Delta Team was sent in to rescue the hostages Demir was holding—doctors and nurses he’d kidnapped but had not ransomed. Nori wanted one more shot at negotiating the hostages’ freedom, Woof had unequivocally disagreed, but Nori’s boss made the call and sent her in.

  It was a mistake. One that almost killed her.

  A mistake Woof had not forgotten and likely never would, seeing as Nori had taken a bullet to the stomach and hip and now bore Onur’s marks.

  Zip had also paid a price. The hostage rescue was a shitshow, not because the team hadn’t executed their mission and the hostages survived, but in the shootout, a stray bullet had hit a life-support machine. And that medical device had been the only thing keeping Onur’s young son alive. To make matters worse, Zip’s face mask had been pulled off. With facial recognition readily available, Demir had Zip’s identity. And the man didn’t delay setting about to exact retribution, sending his brother Farid to the U.S. to kill Zip.

  Zip spent weeks in hiding. But in the end, to flush out Farid, Zip now had a new scar courtesy of the asshole.

  But they’d all thought Onur Demir was dead. During Zip’s ordeal, they’d been told Demir had been taken out by a coalition airstrike along with his top commanders.

  “Please tell me that photo wasn’t taken at SeaTac,” Zip snapped.

  “Wish I could.”

  Jesus fuck.

  Jangles felt his body go tight and his anger swelled. His gaze slid to Zip and he knew his brother was feeling much of the same, only his was tenfold. A maniac hellbent on revenge happened to be at the same airport as his missing woman.

  Three loud raps on the door sounded before it flew open and Trigger’s large frame filled the doorframe. If his harried entrance didn’t put Jangles on high alert, the deep, menacing scowl would’ve.

  “Sorry to interrupt but…” Trigger trailed off, glanced around the room, and his frown landed on Woof before it slid back to Roe and he continued. “I need a word.”

  “Trigger.” Woof’s low rumble left no doubt—that one word was a warning.

  Trigger cringed and Woof’s eyes drifted closed. “Say it,” he demanded.

  “The State Department called.” That was all Trigger got out before Woof moved.

  “Out of my way,” Woof shouted.

  “Lock it down, Woof. You need this intel before you blow out of here halfcocked.”

  “Yeah? And would you stick around for an intel briefing if it was Gillian?” Woof shot back.

  “I would. Nothing’s been confirmed. You need—”

  “Fuck,” Roe clipped. “Fucking shit.”

  Well, that wasn’t reassuring.

  “What’d the State Department send over?” Jangles asked.

  “The British intelligence officer Nori was working with in Cairo was found dead at seven this morning local time.”

  He quickly calculated the time difference. “It’s four p.m. there. They waited nine hours to call it in?”

  “State Department and the SIS have had men on the ground looking. But there’s been no sign of Nori,” Trigger hesitantly said.

  “When was the last time you talked to Nori?” Jangles inquired.

  “Yesterday, early afternoon our time. She was getting ready to sit down with her team so the conversation was short.”

  “She tell you who she was meeting with?” Roe asked.

  “No. Unsecured line, and beyond that, we don’t discuss work. We respect the boundaries.” Woof’s voice was strong and steady, and if Jangles hadn’t been looking at him, he wouldn’t have known how hard Woof was working to keep his control. But Jangles saw it, the tremor that shook his hands, the tic that jumped on his cheek. Woof was doing everything he could to lock it down, but that thread would snap, and when it did, there’d be hell to pay.

  “When was the last time you talked to Destiny?” Jangles looked at Zip.

  “This morning, early, before her flight left Dallas.”

  Zip was tossing his phone back and forth between his hands, looking like he was ready to throw it against the wall while hoping there was an explanation other than the obvious why his woman missed her flight.

  “Call Gwen and Ivy,” Roe boomed. “They have two choices and it’s up to you. They go home and lock themselves in or they come here to post. And you…” Roe turned to Jangles. “If you’ve been seen anywhere in public with that bartender, lock her ass down, too.”

  Jangles’ body went solid. He chose to ignore the fact his commander knew about Hope and they hadn’t been as secretive as he’d t
hought, and instead focused on the implication.

  “You think the women are—”

  “I think I don’t like this,” Roe started. “Bad intel. Two women missing. And a team that’s compromised. I want the women locked the fuck down before I have three more men I can’t control.”

  No one had to tell Merlin and Duff twice. Both were out of their chairs and out the door to retrieve their phones from the wall-mounted lockbox.

  Jangles slowly made his way to Woof and Zip. Both with identical grimaces, neither trying to hide the worry.

  “You know, right?” Jangles asked. “We have this, we’re gonna bring them home.”

  Woof nodded. Zip stared off into space.

  “Brother?” Jangles called and waited for Zip to look at him. “You know we have your back and Destiny’s.”

  “Right,” Zip mumbled, and Jangles knew he wouldn’t get more from his friend so he left it alone and went to call Hope.

  He grabbed his phone from the box, and while he waited for it to power up, he glanced around the wide hallway. He didn’t see Duff or Merlin.

  Jangles quickly scrolled to Hope’s name, hit the call button, and put it to his ear. Five rings later, it went to voice mail.

  “Hey, baby, when you get this, call me.”

  Jangles disconnected as Trigger exited the room and waited for him to disconnect. “No answer?”

  Jangles inhaled deeply and tried to force himself to remember it was not uncommon for Hope to sleep in, and after they’d been up half the night, she’d barely lifted her head off the pillow to kiss him goodbye before he’d left for work.

  There could be a hundred reasons why Hope didn’t answer, all of them benign, yet he couldn’t stop his stomach from tightening.

  “No.”

  “Shit. Keep trying her. I gotta go call Gillian, we’re wheels up this afternoon.” Trigger didn’t wait for a response before he took off at a jog down the hall.

  Jangles dialed Hope again and he made his way back into the conference room. Roe was across the room on the phone, and when Hope didn’t answer for the second time, he stabbed the end button and turned to Woof.