Surrendering To Her Sergeant (50 page)

When they dragged free to catch their
breaths, he smiled into her face and murmured, “Hello,
sunshine.”

Ava giggled, the sound an intoxicating
mix of husky and sweet. “I wondered where you’d gone.”

“I was restless.”

“I can tell.”

He dipped his head to lick
the sensitive spot below her ear. Ava retaliated by grabbing him by
the nape and scoring his scalp with her slender nails. “Fuck!” He
hissed as she did it again. “Do you
know
what that does to my cock,
baby?”

She drew up the pointer finger of her
other hand and wobbled it in front of his lips. “Uh, uh, uh.” Her
singsong was even more maddening when she tugged her bottom lip
between her teeth. “The President of the United States is twenty
feet away, Sergeant Archer. No inductees to the mile-high club on
Air Force One.”

He answered that by rolling the tip of
his tongue along her lip, coaxing her to set it free for him. When
she released a longing sigh, he sucked it in via a long,
tantalizing kiss. By the time he let her go again, her limbs were
limp, her eyes heavy…

And her pussy soaking wet.

“Oh!” Her lazy gaze
vanished at the first flick of his thumb against her clit. With
wide eyes and parted lips, she fumed as he continued to play,
clearly ramping up her arousal not in spite of their surroundings,
but because of them. “Ethan!
Quitaté
! We can’t!”

“Your mouth is telling me one thing
but your body is telling me another, sunshine.” He pushed back her
thighs another inch, spreading her wider for him before he made
fast work of his fly, releasing his penis so its moist crown helped
his fingers tug aside her soaked panties. “Why don’t we let it have
a chat with mine?”

“Ohhh.” Her moan was long, tormented,
and sexy as hell. “Dear God, you’re a heathen. No-nobody does this
on the president’s plane!”

He rolled his hips, knowing the
movement stimulated the entire ring of quivering tissues at her
entrance. “I can guarantee you, baby, Craig and his first lady have
definitely given it a whirl.”

“That’s—that’s different.”

“How? Why?” He slid in a little
deeper, letting her hear his own pleased groan. Fuck, she felt so
good. So right. So perfect. So his.

“They’re the president and first lady.
They’re married!”

He was only halfway in but
he paused right where he was. “And you’re
my
first lady.” He lifted a hand to
her face. “So say you’ll be my wife, too.”

Her indigo eyes went wide. She gripped
his neck harder. “Are you—do you know what you just—”

“I know exactly what I said. I love
you, Ava. And I need you in my life.” He dipped his head and kissed
her soundly but sweetly. Since his cock was already buried halfway
inside her, he needed to keep something about this on the level of
chaste and serious. “I know we have some things to work out. I’m
stationed in Tacoma but I don’t have to live there. I like LA—as
long as you’re there with me.” He softly nipped the corner of her
jaw. “We can even talk about that little house with the swing
set…if you want.”

She moaned once more but this time it
vibrated with conflict. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

He ran his mouth over her
lips again. Her nose. The lids of her eyes. “Say yes. Surrender to
me, Ava. Surrender to
us
.”

He showered her in more soft kisses.
In more of his wordless, boundless love. In the caresses that
showed her how he yearned to cherish her for the rest of their
lives.

At last, a sigh spilled from her that
echoed straight into his soul. Ethan surged his body into hers,
turning them into one being. She finished her breath with the word
that changed his world the same way she’d connected to his soul,
consumed his heart, and captured his love forever.

“Yes.”

###

Turn the page for a special sneak
preview of the next exciting W.I.L.D. Boys book:

A W.I.L.D.er Wonderland:
Sexy Stories For The Season

--Coming on December 16,
2013--

You’re invited to celebrate the season with the
W.I.L.D. Boys!

A W.I.L.D.er Wonderland: Sexy
Stories For The Season

Coming on December 16, 2013

The weather outside may be
frightful, but the Special Forces boys keep things
more
than delightful,
with four short stories that fill you in on what your favorite
soldiers are up to at this special time of year. Let the W.I.L.D.
Boys keep you warm under the covers this winter…

SPECIAL SNEAK PREVIEW!

* * * * *

STORY ONE:

RAZE THE BARN

Starring Garrett and Sage
Hawkins

CHAPTER ONE

“Damn it.”

Sage Hawkins angrily wiped at her
eyes. She was crying again. Worse, she was doing it as a beautiful
snow fell over the world outside, a sight she’d waited so long to
see. From her second floor window seat, the Iowa countryside looked
like a Currier and Ives print, the corn fields now lush blankets of
white, the trees and fences glistening with the fallen flakes. It
was silver and peaceful and magical.

Then why was she so
miserable?

Garrett and she had deliberately
waited until the break between Thanksgiving and Christmas to come
here for a visit with his parents, as well as his beloved Uncle
Wyatt and Aunt Josie. Garrett had been adamant that Racer, their
baby boy, experience part of his first winter on earth in Iowa,
wanting to pass along the joy of a boyhood that included many
traditions of the season, especially the snow.

She saw that youthful joy on her
husband’s face now, as he and Wyatt returned from their
quarter-mile walk to the road to pick up the mail. After dropping
off the bundle at Wyatt’s house, they trudged toward the barn
situated between the two Hawkins houses. Thanks to Racer being
bundled in a baby carrier on his chest, Garrett looked like a
reverse hunchback. That didn’t stop the man’s eyes from gleaming
like fresh-cut blue quartz, or the tawny stubble on his jaw from
giving way to his charismatic grin. Yeah, the one that made her
heart tumble over itself, even in her present condition.

Her present
condition
. Egghh. She longed to scratch her
skin off and start all over again in another body. She didn’t do
“conditions.” She’d been in disaster zones. Skydived with soldiers.
Survived a year on the run from white slave traders. Had her
wedding crashed by a lunatic on a revenge campaign.

But none of that had mattered to
fate.

It was determined to give her a
“condition.”

The logic in the decision shouldn’t
have been a huge shock. Just when she thought the cosmic dues had
been paid, that her pregnancy would end in a day of stress-free joy
and love, a vacation to Los Angeles had turned into a nightmare
that brought Racer to them a month early. The “break” that
Garrett’s Special Forces Group was expecting? Never happened.
They’d ended up assisting the CIA on a terrorist plot to bury the
West Coast under a nuclear cloud, with her husband as the first
casualty of that feat. Even now, she endured a shudder at the
memory of Garrett’s face, so strong yet still, lost to the huge hit
of sleeping gas he’d endured to save her. She’d kissed him with so
many desperate pleas to wake up as Racer Joseph put the pedal to
the damn medal in her belly…

She gasped as the helplessness pulled
at her all over again. Clawed her soul like it did on that day, a
monster on grief’s playground, cackling at her to let go of hope
and take the slide down into its pit of desperate fear.

“Go. Away.” She seethed the words, a
luxury she hadn’t been given the day Racer was born. Once they’d
been able to escape from Ephraim Lor and Cameron Stock, Racer had
lived up to his name, clamoring for his grand entrance despite her
pleas otherwise. With her best friend at her side as cheerleader,
Sage had given birth to her son without knowing if his daddy would
ever wake to see him.

It’s over now, girlfriend.
Done. Lor is dead and Stock is at the top of the FBI Wanted list.
They’ll find him and lock his ass away forever.

Which meant she only had to worry
about the next lunatic who wanted to go at her husband with a bomb,
knife, gun, rocket or chemical canister. And the one after that.
And the one after that.

Over
?

It was never going to be
over.

She bolted off the seat and onto her
well-used pacing path in the carpet of her in-laws’ guest room.
“Get a grip. You fell in love with an SF guy. You love him for what
he is. You love him for all of it. You knew this drill before you
accepted his ring.”

That was all before she’d laid next to
him for hours, her head on his chest, wondering if his next
heartbeat would be his last.

The tears came again. She pulled in a
shaky breath, mentally kicking at the asshole on the slide again.
She couldn’t let him win. She wouldn’t.

Why did it get harder to believe that
every day?

Why did the battle get even worse when
she heard Garrett call to her from outside, his baritone filled
with oblivious happiness?

“Sage.” His loud laugh mixed with
Wyatt’s from the yard below. “Sugar, you in there? Go to the
window. You have to see this!”

After grabbing a tissue and mopping up
the new tears, she pressed her face into her hands and commanded
her self-composure back to the emotional battlefront. “Fake it
‘till you make it,” she whispered, forcing a smile.

She curled a knee back onto
the window seat and looked out to search for her husband. It was
the world’s easiest feat. The man consumed over six feet of the
frosty air, melting it into an obedient glow for his golden-haired,
broad-shouldered, utterly virile presence. The effect got an extra
injection of sexy thanks to the bulk of his parka, the thick
stubble that now populated his jawline, and the longer line of his
legs due to his boots. He was hot farm boy mashed with hot soldier,
officially turning him into Hot Man, capital
H
, capital
M
. She instantly yearned to jump
him.

Right before she swore to kill
him.

The idiot stood there grinning down at
Racer, who was on the ground in the mud and snow. Correction:
rolling around in that muck, squealing with laughter, his drool
dirty, his hair dripping. God only knew where his Thomas the Train
snow cap had gone, though Garrett had managed to keep the little
mittens on his hands. That wasn’t going to help the man’s cause
very much.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Look. He wants to
make snow angels already!”

She made sure he got a good look at
her beyond-pissed glower before whirling to snatch her jacket and
head downstairs.

* * * * *

STORY TWO:

TIE THE KNOTS

Starring Zeke Hayes and Rayna
Chestain

CHAPTER ONE

It was a dark and rainy
night.

Zeke Hayes jutted a mental middle
finger at the cliché. “Dark and rainy” he could deal with. This
deluge was like an all-access pass to Mother Nature’s water park,
without the Churros and cheesy Beach Boys cover songs. It had hit
the highway right at midnight, forcing him to pull off at the exit
for his apartment instead of Rayna’s house.

At least the guy upstairs had waited
to drown the earth until after Sage and Garrett’s wedding.
Correction: makeup wedding. Sage had pulled out all the stops to
compensate for their first attempt at formal vows, which had been
ruined by a madman who’d nearly killed Zeke and kidnapped Rayna
back to Thailand. Though Garrett insisted they make the bond legal
and dragged Sage off to a civil ceremony nearly a year ago, Sage
insisted on something with pomp, circumstance, flowers, food,
music, and even her guy on a horse to sweep her off on a ride into
the sunset. She’d gotten it all, including Garrett on a beautiful
gray stallion, actually looking pretty cool in the Renaissance
wedding clothes she’d made them all wear. Thankfully the skies had
chosen to bawl their eyes out over the event after it was all
over.

As he and Rayna got out of the car,
the clouds growled and the rain fell harder. Z snarled back before
tugging Rayna into the elevator. Shit. Her costume was made mostly
of velvet, which meant she now wore every chilled drop that had
fallen on her. Despite his best efforts to warm her, his firebird
was frozen to the bone.

“Fuck,” he muttered. The oath spewed
from him a couple more times when they got to the door of his
place. “Sorry, bird. I’m not used to the lock.”

Every word of it was true. He could
easily count the number of times he’d actually spent the night here
in the last year, keeping the apartment mostly as—