Scorch: A Soldiers of Fortune Romance (Military Bad Boy Romance) (21 page)

I shake my head, trying not to moan as he grinds his hardness into my mound.
 

“Good,” He growls, fire sparking in his dark eyes as he starts to push my shorts off
 
the curve of my ass; “Because I’m going to make you see
God
, princess.”

He rolls us over as he pulls my shorts off my legs and runs his fingers over the damp gusset of my panties. He’s pushing my tank top up over my body, his lips hungrily moving to my sensitive nipples as they’re freed to the air. I gasp as his tongue flicks across one and then the other, sending bolts of electric desire buzzing through me as his fingers begin to move in circles around my pussy through my panties.

His mouth trails down my body, biting and licking and dragging his tongue down my skin until he gets to the waist of my panties. He growls like an animal as he strips them off of me, and I gasp as his tongue finds me dripping wet and ready for him. He’s slow and teasing with his mouth, despite the fierce look in his eyes, and he’s got me riding that wave higher and higher as he slowly guides me towards my release with his tongue working magic across my clit. When I come, it’s his name I’m crying out, raking my nails across his scalp and shoulders as he licks me all the way through my orgasm.

“Get up here,” I gasp, dragging him up my body and mashing my lips against his. I’ve never tasted myself before, but I find my body reacting with even deeper arousal and need for him as I taste my sweetness across his lips.

I’m spreading my legs wide for him as he yanks his shirt and shorts off, revealing that chiseled, hardened body that has me question my very sanity. Because whatever happens next - whatever happens later - we’ve got right here and right now. And as crazy as it sounds, and
is
, I just want to exist right here with this man that has me looking at the world in entirely different ways.

He reaches for the pocket of his shorts, but I grab his wrist; “Wait, no.” He turns, a questioning look on his face; “Leave it,” I say quietly.

Javier’s eyes blaze as a grin begins to spread over his face; “You got me, princess. Never in a church, and never without-”

“Me neither.”

He grins; “Church or condom?”

“Neither,” I say, rolling my eyes and reaching down between us to wrap my fingers around his impressive girth; “Now are you going to give me this gorgeous cock or what?”

“You’re the boss,
agent,
” He growls. I yelp as his hands grab my thighs and spreads them wide as he eases the head of his cock inside of me. We both cry out and he slides through my wetness deeper and deeper; raw and bare as he sheaths himself inside of me.

“Oh my God-“
I moan, throwing my head back and moaning before looking up into the eyes of this man who’s somehow gotten under my skin, into my head, and into my
heart
in ways I never saw coming. It’s just him and I, with nothing between us as he begins to rock in and out of me. His hands move to circle around me and cradle my body to him as I wrap my legs around his muscled torso. We move as one, rocking harder and rhythmically, building slowly until our tempo begins to move faster. I can feel every beat of his heart through his skin and through his thickness filling me so perfectly. We move faster and faster, and as I start to fall and let myself go completely I know that I’m lost in such a perfect way; in a place where I never want to be found again.

My body convulses as the burning,throbbing, rippling sensation begins to spread out from my core; his body grinding against my clit and making me shudder as his cock throbs deep inside of me.
 

“Chelsea, I’m going to-”

“Fill me,
please
.” I moan out. And as he roars out his climax, I can
feel
the heat of his release inside of me, and it’s more than I can possible withstand. I cry out as my orgasm tears through me like a roaring blaze, erupting out of every pore of my body as we come together, crashing against the other like waves on a shore.

Later, I’m pulling my panties back up and slipping his shirt over my head as I curl against him, letting myself drift into him as his arms move around me and draw me close. There are words I so desperately want to say, but I don’t since that would be absolutely crazy, given the whirlwind of the last few days.

I almost want to chastise myself for even thinking them, but I shake my head slowly, grinning to myself.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ Absolutely nothing.
 

I can hear Javier’s breathing begin to even into a steady pace and I start to close my eyes. There’s absolutely nothing wrong about any of this; because this is perfect.

Until, of course, it isn’t.

Perfection.

When I slowly wake to the melodic sounds of the birds and the slow crash of the waves with Chelsea in my arms, I know it’s the only word for it.

It's perfect.

I've got the freedom, and more importantly, I've got the girl. And for the first time in years there's actually a
silence
inside my head that I almost don't know what to do with. Is this what peace feels like? I feel like I've been at war of some kind or another for longer than I can even remember, to the point that I don't even know what to do with the sounds of silence.

I pull her closer to me, inhaling the scent of her hair and the warmth of her skin as she snuggles back against me. I'm not an idiot; I know the peace and the perfection and the freedom are temporary while we sit here in the eye of the storm waiting for the hammer to fall.

The freedom, the peace, and the girl.

Two of those things most definitely have an unavoidable expiration date in the near future. It's the third one I'm trying to figure out how to hold on to. Because after a lifetime of temporary friends, of fleeting familiarities, of burned bridges and torched relationships, I realize that for the first time ever, I'm with a person I simply can't imagine being away from.

And that scares the shit out of me.

But at the same time, when I allow myself to really think about it, there's another altogether new feeling spreading through me. Because really, I can't imagine letting her out of my arms. I mean, we could just stay here; right here in the stillness of the eye of the storm. Shit, we could stay right here in this
village
and raise chickens or something quaint and ridiculous like that. The bottom line though is, we could leave it all behind. I could leave all my
bullshit
behind once and for all, and for the first time since
ever
, I could just be happy.

Because with that life and this girl, I don't know how I
couldn't
be.

We'll just stay right here, and exist in this moment of peace for as long as we fucking want to.

I close my eyes and nuzzle back into her, and I must doze off for a second, because I don't hear a thing before it happens. I don't
hear
them, I don't
see
them, and I don't even know that our little sanctuary has been intruded upon until I feel the cold metal of a gun press into my temple.

Yeah, then I'm wide fucking awake.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart." Benson grins savagely as he leans over me; "Miss me, baby?"

Chelsea screams as she wakes to hands grabbing us. I roar and strain at the three men holding me down, fighting with every single ounce of my being as they tear her away from me.
 

This isn't supposed to happen like this.

The peace and the silence and the perfection isn't supposed to end here; not like this, and not yet.

Chelsea is screaming my name, shoving fists and heels and elbows at the men holding her. I'm lunging for her, but the men holding me back shove me to the ground and start to cuff my hands behind my back. It's the single worst feeling I've ever felt, watching them drag her away and knowing there's nothing I can do.

The feeling is helplessness, and it's almost overwhelming in its power over me.

I'm yelling; roaring like a wild fucking animal with every ounce of my soul as the one thing I've ever cared about - the one girl in the world I've ever love-

Chelsea
.

Arms haul me up, and I'm still roaring when Benson steps in front of me and grins; "Sleep tight, sweetheart." He brings the butt of his gun down on me, and the whole world goes dark.

*****

"You’ve been a bad, bad boy Toro."

Jesus, I’m getting tired of hearing that one.

I slowly open my eyes, wincing at the pain in the side of my head and the blinding overhead light lancing through my vision. I'm in a cement room, with a mirror on the wall in front of me and a window on another. I blink and turn to look through the window at an open warehouse of some kind, cement and windowless, with walls of electronics to one side, racks of weapons on another, and tables full of sleazy, roughneck guys playing cards or just shooting the shit.

Oh, right, I remember this life. Welcome home, asshole.

I realize I'm cuffed to a chair, and as I glance wildly around, ignoring the pain in my head, the voice comes from behind me; "Whose side are you on, Javier?"

Benson.

"Fuck you."

My former peer, my former comrade in arms walks around my chair until he's standing by my side. He grins darkly through his piggy face, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the cement wall behind him.
 

"You're a brother, you know. You're a Blackriver brother; part of the family."

I snort and look away; "The hell I am."

Benson shakes his head and pantomimes clutching at his chest; "Oh, it hurts, Javier! Baby don't say those things!"

"I've stopped all that."

"You never do, Toro. No one just leaves the family."

I can feel the rage building inside of me as I flex my muscles and grit my teeth; glaring daggers at this man who I'd kill with my own bare hands right now if I could; "You left me to die,
pendejo
; I think that voids our contract."

Benson's lips curl into sneering smile; "Nah, we still own your ass."

“What the fuck do you want, Benson?”

I was terrible in Blackriver. I was a drunk, a gambler, disorderly, and had a major problem with authority. I also probably spent more time at boxing matches and whore-houses than I did actually shooting anything. They can't
possibly
want me back-

Fuck
.

And then, like a curtain being lifted on a magician’s stage, I know exactly what's going on here. They don't want
me
at all. After all, what good is a disobedient, washed up criminal?

They want her.

Benson is a snake, and he sees the lights go on behind my eyes and chuckles; "Smart boy, Toro." He winks at me before going over to the mirror in front of us and knocking on the glass twice. The reflection turns to see-through glass as the lights come on in the room behind it, and I'm instantly growling and straining at my cuffs.

It's Chelsea, sitting in a metal chair similar to mine. Her wrists are cuffed to the arms, there’s a blindfold across her face, and big aviation headphones clamped around her ears.

Jesus Christ, she must be fucking terrified.

I'm straining and raging against my restraints before I even know what I'm doing; screaming her name and slamming the chair against the ground as I see red flood across my eyes. This scene is horribly familiar, and that's what cuts the deepest about it. Because a year ago, the man chuckling in front of me was
me
, the man in this chair was Logan Dempsey, and the girl across from me was Chelsea's fucking sister.