She was so damn sexy like this, her muscles tensed, her body hugging his fingers. He curved his fingers slightly and rubbed just inside her entrance. She made an unintelligible sound, one of her hands snaking down to grab his hip and pull him forward. Praying for strength, he took himself in hand and slowly pushed forward. Her inner muscles closed around him in a hot, tight grip that had sweat breaking out across his chest. He paused partway in, waited for her eyes to flutter open. When their gazes met, he planted one hand beside her head and plunged in deep.
Erin’s loud gasp echoed in his ears for a split second before her moan echoed around the room. Wade squeezed his eyes shut and hung onto his control by a thread, shuddering.
Oh, fuck. Fuck!
She was so goddamn hot and wet, her inner walls hugging him tight. Pleasure shot through his entire body, leaving him panting and trembling as he fought the urge to hammer into her until he came. He fought it back. Sucking in a breath, he eased back and then plunged forward again. She sighed and dragged him closer, drowning him in the feel and scent of her. The friction was so goddamn incredible he couldn’t control the need to move. He came down on his elbow and started a steady rhythm with his hips, dying a little with each drag and thrust.
Over the thundering of his heart he heard the hitch in her breathing and reached blindly between her legs to stroke her clit. Either he didn’t do it right or she was too impatient to wait for him to figure out what she liked, because she pushed his hand away and slipped her own fingers to where she needed them. The sight of her stroking herself put him from inside the danger zone to game over.
Helpless against the onslaught of the orgasm gathering at the base of his spine, he jerked his gaze from her fingers swirling over the swollen bud at the top of her sex to her tight nipples and finally to her face. Her eyes were closed, lips parted in ecstasy as she climbed to the crest. The pleasure twisted tighter, higher, and he couldn’t fight it anymore. His thrusts grew urgent, almost frantic as he slammed into her. His control was gone, shattered, and he didn’t even care.
By sheer damn luck he managed to outwait her. He felt her ripple around his cock, heard her rising moans and her cry of relief as she detonated. A heartbeat later, he joined her, throwing back his head with a roar that echoed off the walls and ceiling. It tore through him in powerful pulses that gradually faded until he was weak and gasping. Turning his face into the curve of her neck, he rested his weight on his forearms and struggled to suck air into his starving lungs.
Erin gave a contented sigh and wrapped her arms around his back, urging his weight down on top of her as she wound her legs around the back of his thighs. He gave in reluctantly but kept some of his weight on his knees, worried he was crushing her into the floor. She ran her fingers through his hair, over his shoulders and spine. Rain and wind continued to lash at the roof and windows. Together with the heat of the fire and the steady thump of her heart beneath his cheek, her touch was hypnotic. He’d never much liked being petted before, but she had him practically in a trance. He could stay like this for hours, breathing in her scent and enjoying the feel of her fingertips wandering over his skin.
“Hmmm,” she sighed, kissing the top of his head. “That was worth the wait.”
“I can do better,” he blurted.
She laughed softly. “It was perfect the way it was.”
He raised his head to look down at her. Her eyes held the drowsy, sated look of a satisfied woman, and while that soothed his ego, he also felt a flicker of shame. He’d just taken her on the rug like a fucking caveman and would have come without her if she hadn’t taken matters into her own hand. A flush crept up his neck. “No, seriously. I can do way better.” She deserved better. Slow and soft and romantic, intense. A different kind of intense than what they’d just shared. Him in full control, all the urgency and desperation locked down until she was thoroughly satisfied, maybe even more than once before he let go. Christ, he’d love to spend hours on end spoiling her in bed. Spoiling her in general.
Unfortunately this whole goddamn situation with Rahim was a serious roadblock though.
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, wow then. I can’t wait to find out what that entails.”
Staring down into her eyes, he felt closer to her in that moment than he had anyone else. She’d never seemed to mind his rough edges or lack of social graces. She lay beneath him now wide open, no shields, no games, and fuck, he didn’t want to be the one to hurt her when this was all over, but he didn’t see any way around it. She’d be going back to Bagram and he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do.
Letting his protective walls down a little more, he bent to kiss her, gently this time, cherishing her mouth rather than claiming it. She made a soft sound of enjoyment and kissed him back, the languid stroke of her tongue against his stirring him deep inside. When he began to slip out of her, he reluctantly pushed up on his hands and withdrew. She raked her gaze over him, a little smile on her lips as she took in the sight of his body and it went straight to his head. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured, getting to his feet. He cleaned up in the bathroom and brought some tissues back for her, surprised to find her already part way up the stairs.
“I’m gonna grab a shower, then crash,” she told him, pushing the dark waves of her hair over one shoulder. “Want to join me?”
The thought of sliding into bed next to her and holding her in the darkness through the night was way too appealing to turn down. He nodded. “I’ve got a few things to take care of first, but I’ll be up in a while.”
“Okay.”
As soon as she turned and headed up the stairs, he strode back to the fire and pulled on his underwear and jeans, then went into the kitchen. There were no messages on his phone from either Robert or Bill about Rahim or Schafer. He contacted the security team via the radio and received the all-clear. Keeping the radio with him, Wade peered out the kitchen window into the night. The storm lashed the house and it was unlikely anyone would actually be able to find their location, but Wade couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was brewing.
After dousing the fire and checking to make sure the house was locked down tight, he went upstairs to his room and found Erin curled on her side in his bed. From her breathing and lack of response as he quietly entered and eased the door shut, he knew she was already asleep.
Wanting to feel her naked body against him, he stripped and slid in next to her. As he drew her into his arms she settled into the curve of his body with a murmur of contentment. Wade absorbed the feel of her cuddled against him and listened to the rain and wind beat against the roof.
He’d fallen for her, hard, and he’d do goddamn anything to keep her safe. The warning hum in his gut told him Rahim was coming. Wade was fully prepared to stand between Erin and any danger that came their way.
****
Somewhere off the South Carolina coast
Pain and cold
.
The cold was cruel against his exposed flesh, but it barely registered past the excruciating pain that blasted through him with every breath.
He peeled his blood-encrusted eyelids apart to survey his own personal hell. It was the dead of night, the sky pitch black and the tiny sliver of moon didn’t give off enough light for him to see anything except the high walls of the crevice he was lying in. He tried to swallow, gritted his teeth to keep from crying out from the agony and thirst that tortured him. Three days he’d been lying here like this, best he could figure. Three days since that A-10 had unleashed its payload and taken out most of his platoon in a horrific friendly-fire incident. There had been other survivors, but their cries had all faded into silence sometime before dark.
Moving slowly, unable to hold back his own tormented cries as he inched his way forward to the wall of the crevice, he kept telling himself not to quit. He was a fucking soldier. He could make it if he found a way out of here. He’d heard the distant thump of rotors before he’d passed out from sheer exhaustion and blood loss, but the rescue crews hadn’t heard his yells for help. They hadn’t come back since.
No man gets left behind
, he reminded himself.
They’re coming back for you
.
Even as he said it he knew it wasn’t true. Three times rescue crews had combed the area. The operation would have changed from a rescue to a recovery mission, and most likely they’d already recovered the remains of his dead teammates. For months now he’d been questioning his role in this war. His country had invaded theirs. Tried to shove its political agenda down their throats. Left chaos and destruction amongst the innocent civilians caught in the crossfire, and for what? They’d never win this war. And when they pulled out, everything would go back to the way it had been before. The people of Afghanistan would continue to eke out their existence in this harsh and ancient land as they had for thousands of years.
At some point he’d started thinking about defecting, and even the idea of somehow faking his death to do it. Was this a sign? Was he supposed to use this moment to become what he was always meant to be?
Pushing aside his pain and despair, he fought his way up the steep side of the rock wall trapping him. He didn’t know how long it took him to finally reach the top. Hours. A day. But when he finally dragged himself over the edge and collapsed onto his stomach, he realized how still and silent it was.
He was utterly alone.
He lost consciousness and woke when he heard voices. He blinked against the sunlight, the clear, blue sky stinging his eyes. The voices came nearer, nearer, until he could hear them clearly. Men speaking Pashto.
His heart lurched. They’d see his uniform and kill him without realizing that he only wore it because he had no choice. He tried desperately to crawl away, find a place to hide, but he was too weak, too dehydrated. He lay sprawled out in the dust with jagged pieces of rock cutting into him, utterly defenseless. And when the men arrived and he gathered his remaining strength to attack, the Pashto words slipped from him like a prayer.
Please help me.
The four elderly men had gaped at him in surprise for a moment before approaching him. And rather than kill him or leave him to die even though he wore an enemy uniform, they gave him water and tended his wounds. Carried him to their village and took him in. Saving him when his own brothers had left him to die. Giving him the chance to embrace Islam and his true identity.
Rahim.
“Do you need anything else, sir?”
Shaking off the stark memory that had marked the pivotal point in his life, Rahim turned to face one of his men he’d brought on board with him. Traveling by boat wasn’t his favorite thing—hell, it was why he’d joined the Army rather than the Navy—but this trip wouldn’t last long, and this ship was American. Something he found immensely ironic and gratifying. “No, I’m fine,” he replied in English. “What about you?”
“Everything’s fine with me, too,” the man responded in a heavy Spanish accent, telling him there was no cause for alarm about their identities or plans being discovered. Yet. Rahim had disposed of a few original crew members and gotten him and two of his men on board with the help of some fancy computer work, and all without causing any suspicion.
Rahim nodded and gestured for the man to follow him out of the heavily reinforced iron cargo hold. Stepping out onto the deck close to the railing, he looked back at the container set close against the starboard wall of the cargo area and locked the door behind him. Facing the ocean, he took a deep breath of the salty air as the breeze whipped over his skin. The thrill of freedom and excitement about what he was going to do swept through him. Hidden safely inside that shipping container, the device had passed through security at the port without detection. Now they had only a few hours’ sail up the east coast to Virginia, where they’d arrive sometime late tomorrow morning.
Before he passed out of cell reception, he placed a call on another burner phone to Safir, who answered quickly. “Everything looks good on our end,” he told the other man in English, wrapping a hand around the iron railing as he gazed at the horizon and the South Carolina coast fading into the distance. “What’s going on there?”
“It’s been busy,” Safir replied. “That location we talked about looks good for sales. The inventory arrived safely at the store today.”
He paused, taking in the unspoken code. The hit team had arrived in Virginia. “You’ve checked out the location?”
“It looks good, yes. Do you want me to make an official offer?”
Officially authorize the hit. “Yes.”
“I’ll let the agent know right away.”
Anticipation lit inside him, a flame given a breath of pure oxygen. “Perfect. When will we know if it’s a done deal?”
“By noon tomorrow, I imagine.”
Around the same time that the ship would be unloading at the dock at Alexandria.
Perfect.
“That’s good news. Great work.” A memory flashed through his brain, of Jihad a few days after Rahim had hired him as his personal bodyguard. He’d killed two men sent to assassinate him. Alerted by a gunshot, Rahim had stepped out of the house where he’d been staying to find Jihad standing over the two soldiers’ bodies. He’d shot one and slit the other’s throat. The bloody knife had still been in his hand as Jihad turned his head and met his gaze.
Thank you, brother
, Rahim had said in Pashto.
Jihad had nodded in acknowledgement, his dark eyes burning with a fierce intensity Rahim had mistaken for loyalty.
But now he realized it had been hatred.
Safir acknowledged the compliment with a grunt. “I’ll call you tomorrow when the offer is final.”
“Sounds good. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
Rahim put the phone into his pocket and offered the man next to him a little smile, then nodded for him to leave. Once he was alone, he returned to staring at the endless waves shifting under the ship. He rolled his shoulder, biting back a grimace as the healing tissues pulled, and counted his blessings.