Surrendering To Her Sergeant (6 page)

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Authors: Angel Payne

Tags: #romance, #military, #erotic romance, #bdsm, #alpha male

BOOK: Surrendering To Her Sergeant
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Sage spit out her gulp of
water. Rayna giggled again. Garrett and Zeke let out matching
groans of the
f
word. But Tait’s expression actually changed to a glance of
respect. “Huh,” he said. “You’re right.” He looked at Charlie.
“Why
does
it have
that thing on it?”

Chaz’s stance changed, too.
He straightened from polite to commanding. As he launched into the
advantages of foam microphone covers, reveling in the attention he
got from a bunch of hunks who also relied on high-performance
equipment to accomplish their jobs, Ava recognized her chance to
slip away.
You’ve had your peek.
And
your stare. Now back
off from the window, Chestain, before—

“Hey, Ava! Do me a favor and move that
tree about a foot to your right, would ya? The light’s hitting it
wrong.”

Before someone like Blake, the set
decorating lead, called to her just like that.

“Shit
.”

She spat it as she tugged the prop
over, not pausing to acknowledge Blake’s thanks. Or maybe she did.
It was very possible, since every muscle in her body turned to ice
as soon as she watched Ethan’s head whip around at the mention of
her name. Time didn’t help matters, congealing to sludge that
dragged every step she attempted—and made it possible for his gaze
to stab into hers before she launched into motion.

Keep moving. Keep moving.
Don’t look back. Keep moving.

The order vibrated through
every shaky gasp she made while whirling and hurrying through the
maze of flats, cords, ladders, wires, tool boxes and chairs.
So many chairs
. Damn it;
nobody ever sat around here; why did they need so many chairs? And
why had she worn three-inch boots today? And why did
everyone
pick this exact
second to tromp in her way?

“Ava.”

His call severed the air, shattering
the ice beneath her skin into freezing shards through her
bloodstream. She didn’t alter her pace. She couldn’t. The door was
just a few feet away. Past it was a restricted access zone. His
visitor’s pass would get him stopped faster than a gate crasher at
the Oscars. She’d be safe again.

“Ava.”

She fought the pull of his
voice. Resisted the urgent command of it, the fierce need.
No, damn it.
She was
weaving meanings that weren’t there. All they’d shared, all those
months ago, was a kiss. After that, she’d all but told him to shove
off. If anything, he was here to ask her for a reimbursement check
for the birthday flowers that had filled her living room in
February.

Keep moving. Almost
there.

“Ava!”

Long fingers, steel and flesh
certainly fused together, twisted around her elbow. Inside a
second, they hauled her into the props and greenery prep room.
Inside another whoosh, she was pinned against the wall while the
door was booted shut.

And then her world became only
him.

Ethan, burying a hand in her hair.
Ethan, sealing his lips over hers. Ethan, tangling his tongue
against hers as his body, so hard and big, fitted perfectly against
the apex of hers. Consuming her senses with his leathery, dark
pepper scent. Filling each heartbeat with his passion. Like the
mist in which he’d first done this to her, blocking everything but
his force, his strength, his desire.

So much for breathing.

As soon as he released her, she
struggled to do so, anyway. Once his stare impaled her, that cobalt
intensity piercing straight to her center, she flew a white flag on
the effort. A million words blasted through her head. Not a single
one found its way to her mouth. Her lungs and her heart crashed
against each other as he slid a rough thumb over the stinging pads
of her lips.

“Hello, sunshine.”

His murmur slunk through
her body like smoke, the tendrils turning the ice into simmered
drops. They pooled into the layers of her sex, soaking her panties,
finally making her throat work again. A high-pitched gasp spilled
from her, humiliating and liberating at once.
Crap, crap, crap
.

“Ethan.” Why did it sound like a
prayer instead of a protest? Why did he confirm the mortifying fact
by letting his eyelids grow heavy, his thick lashes brushing his
burnished cheeks as he observed every movement on her face and
every breath on her lips? Life bustled by just three feet away,
beyond the door, but his focus made her feel like they’d jumped to
another planet.

“It wasn’t a dream.” His
whisper fanned her face. “Was it?” He swept his thumb beneath her
chin to tug her face up, pulling her deeper into his hold, his
presence. “
Tell me
,” he charged, capturing one of her wrists beneath his other
hand, flattening it to the wall. “I want to hear you say it, damn
it.”

A sigh clamored up her
throat. “No.” She finally relented. “It wasn’t. It…”
It was wonderful. And I’ve thought about it every
day since. I’ve thought about
you
every day…

Though she confined the words to
thoughts, she couldn’t keep them from playing across her face. As
they did, his eyes dilated and his lips parted. With a harsh grunt
that made her vagina clench, he bore down on her with another kiss.
His lips demanded more now, taking every corner of her mouth, every
ounce of her passion, every drop of her obeisance. She was helpless
to give him anything less. She was in sheer heaven because of
it.

She was in deep trouble.

She knew it even before the door to
the room opened again—but even more so as soon as it did. Ethan
tore his mouth from hers while a man as big as him strode in,
sporting a dark skull-crop cut and a smile that descended into a
gawk. “Runway?” He took in their positions, with their crotches
locked and Ethan’s hand bolting hers to the wall, and clearly
filled in the blanks for himself.

Ethan gave a curt nod.
“Captain.”

“Captain
?”

Ava answered herself with a groan. Of
course. She’d seen the man at Sage and Garrett’s wedding, albeit
briefly and without his full clothes on. He’d barged into the
ceremony in a T-shirt and shorts, having been drugged and then
abandoned in Vegas as part of the plan for the bastard who’d nearly
recaptured Rayna into white slavery that day.

“Hi.” The man swung his gaze at
her.

“Uh…hi.”

“Ava.” Ethan directed her name toward
his captain, though his tone was more explanatory than
introductory. The next moment, she saw why.

“Ohhh,” the guy exclaimed.

That
Ava?”

Ethan nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Wow. Ava.”

“Ava
?” The outburst came from Charlie this time. He rounded the
door with a scowl but after his own inspection of she and Ethan, he
joined Ethan’s captain on the lascivious grin duties.

Hell.

She squirmed against Ethan’s hold.
“Charlie—”

“Franz?” The game of musical names was
taken up by Zeke, who stepped into the room with Garrett and a
couple more guys from the team. “And look! Ava!”

“What?” The jolt of her
cousin’s joy filled the air. “Where? Oh my God, Ava!” Rayna surged
in but stopped short, repeating Charlie’s assessment. “Oh, my God.
Um…
Ava
.”

Ava sent a pleading gaze toward the
ceiling. The next person who stammered her name was going to get a
knee to their gut.

“Ava?”

The distinct stress on the second
syllable was only ever used by one person. Because of course, fate
had decided to make her its bitch today.

“Ava?”

Bella stepped fully into the room. She
tossed a dismissive glance at Charlie and the battalion boys before
sweeping her attention toward the wall where Ethan still had her
pinned.

“Mierda
.” The groan surged from the depths of Ava’s stomach. With a
couple of urgent jerks, she wrenched away from Ethan. “Bella,
listen—I can ex—”

“Ethan?”

Normally Bella’s
interruption would be situation normal. In this case, it would’ve
even been a relief—except for the name the woman had picked for her
interjection. And the smile, broad and enthralled, she tagged onto
it. That look had charmed fans, journalists, and critics across a
shitload of demographics in eight countries. In short, her
I-want-you-in-the-palm-of-my-hand-
now
smile.

“Huh?” Ethan blurted it more like a
chore than a word. Whether she wanted to let it go or not, Ava gave
him another snippet of her heart in that moment. He was still
genuinely impervious to most of the mob in the room, with his stare
still transfixed on her.

Bella stunned them both by stepping
forward and shoving his jacket and T-shirt nearly all the way off
his left shoulder. In doing so, she exposed the silvered line of a
nasty scar that bridged his collarbone.

“Oh shit,” Ava blurted.

“What the—” Ethan uttered. “How did
you know about—”

“Ethan!” Bella cried again.
“Oh, my God, it
is
you!”

Ethan looked from the scar to Bella.
His brows hunkered as his gaze sharpened. “Brenda?” he mumbled.
“Brenda Lanzani?”

“Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

As Bella topped that with a
long squee, Ava glanced to Charlie. They mouthed the same words to
each other.
What the
hell
?

“Ohhh, Ethan!” The woman’s breathy
elation got worse. “I can’t believe it!”

Ava’s gut sounded with a
dozen alarms. But she didn’t get to defending her heart in time. A
chunk of it got hacked off in time to get wedged in her throat
while watching the star’s weirdness morph into a full Bella Blitz
on Ethan. No, that wasn’t right. “Blitz” implied that the target
didn’t have a clue. Ethan was
not
clueless. As Bella pressed herself against the
man, she did so with the confidence of a woman who’d been in his
arms before. He braced his hands to her waist with the same
familiarity. And as she tilted her lips up, catching his at the
perfect angle for a full-press kiss, it was clear the woman had
been in that territory, too. Lots of times.

Damn it.

 

 

Chapter Three

What. The.
Fuck?

It set a good tempo for the thoughts
going balls-for-batshit at each other through Ethan’s brain. This
wasn’t how he envisioned the day, or even the hour, playing
out.

Three minutes ago, he’d been kissing
the woman of his fantasies. Now he was forcibly locking lips with
the ex of his nightmares—or at least that was who the creature
claimed to be. Two minutes ago, he was plotting how to keep the
door to this room locked so he could seal the deal on Ava never
ignoring him again. Now, he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of
here.

And one minute ago, he’d thanked the
Creator for finally smiling on him. For the first time in seven
months, not a shred of ugliness had crawled into his waking mind.
No picking through the resistance of some drug dealer or terrorist,
no dissecting some asshole’s body language to detect signs the guy
was lying, cheating, high, or just stupid. For once, he’d gotten to
let the suspicions down and bask in something pure. Something good.
Something exactly what it was supposed to be. Passion. Warmth.
Sunshine.

What the hell had happened?

With a growl, he grabbed the wrists
Brenda had thrown around his neck, using the leverage to thrust her
back. Franzen was still in the room; for that reason, he didn’t do
anything more than plant the woman a step away. “It’s—uh—been a
while, Bren,” he stammered. “You look…really different.”

Somebody was dialing the
understatement cops for that one. Brenda’s face, which still
possessed the same brilliant bronze eyes but had been
topographically changed in every other way, quirked in what seemed
a soft smile. He couldn’t be sure. She didn’t smile the same way.
Her teeth were bigger, her chin was smaller, her nose was shorter,
and her cheeks were higher.

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