Bad Cat Baby Blues (Shifter Squad Six 3) (8 page)

When she sucked on him, creating a vacuum with her mouth, he pulled loose from her with a hiss like she’d stung him. Ari looked up, lips parted and red.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, surprised to hear a note of genuine pleading in there.

She never asked for anything. But she was willing to be down on her knees for Dutch, if it only meant she could have more.

“I want all of you,” he said, rough and honest.

He shucked off his pants and Ari fumbled with the belt on her own, but she didn’t get far by the time Dutch’s body was on her and his hands were doing what hers couldn’t. He pulled off her pants and panties and she spread her legs for him right away, loving the way his eyes blazed as he looked at her dripping sex and her curvy body laid out for him like a feast.

“Fuck me,” she said, as much a command as it was a plea.

“Ask me nicely,” Dutch said, grinning wickedly as he dipped down and ran his tongue along the length of her thigh, getting closer and closer to her pussy.

She shook with a shiver, her body reacting violently to him, her back arching and her hips bucking up. Ari tried to put her hands in his short hair, but he wouldn’t let her, batting her hands away gently as he did the same to her other thigh, driving her wild with need.

“I said ask me nicely, baby,” he growled, and the sound alone made her whimper.

How could she ask for anything if she could barely speak?

“I…” she stuttered, thighs quivering despite the fact that she’d barely gotten a taste of him so far. “Please, Dutch. Please fuck me, please,” she said, feeling something break in her that she was happy to see crumble.

It might have been the first time that she’d trusted someone enough to show a weaker side of herself. One that didn’t always have to be on guard, always be the one that was in command and winning. She was offering herself up, her heart on a sleeve, and it took everything she had to keep from bolting up and running away as soon as the words had left her mouth.

Dutch put his hands on her hips, steadying her, pressing her down on the bed. She groaned as he buried his face in her pussy, his tongue lapping and laving around her clit. Her body twisted underneath him as he ate her out, slow and sensual instead of the hard, jagged way he’d fucked her mouth before. When he sucked her clit between his maddening lips, a long wail escaped her mouth, and Dutch reached up and clamped a hand over her mouth right away, letting her squeal into his palm.

“Shh, baby,” he said, grinning as he snaked up her body, letting his cock rub against her slit. “We’re only getting started,” he promised, and when he thrust into her, Ari believed him completely.

Her nails dug into his big, solid biceps as he split her in half around his cock, filling her up slowly. He gave her time to get used to him, his thrusts slow, his hand still on her mouth as he sunk into her inch by inch. Her body was completely rigid against him by the time he’d fit his whole length into her, bottoming out.

Ari heaved for breath as he took his hand off her mouth and replaced it with his lips. She breathed him in, her hands slipping around his torso, pulling him against her as he started grinding into her. She could feel that he was as much on edge as he was, his body trembling deliciously.

The kiss they shared was sensual, in tune with the way they were fucking. Something in her made her take note of everything that was going on, of every moment and every sensation, like she knew she would want to remember this for the rest of her life. Her palms were flat against his buttocks before her nails dug into him, scraping at his heavenly ass, pulling him into her harder as he plunged in and out of her.

The intense need that she’d been feeling since the moment they’d touched was now an inferno, destroying everything in its path. Her core throbbed and pulsed, desire so raw that it left room for nothing else to consume her.

“Fucking hell, Dutch,” she breathed between fevered kisses, her teeth nipping at his lips. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, sweat glistening on his body.

Dutch caught her lower lip between his lips then and sucked on it, slowing his movements down to an almost intolerable grind that left Ari gasping for breath. But he wouldn’t let up, only fueled her on, and when he kissed her again she gave in entirely.

Whipping her head back, her body spasmed wildly underneath him, bucking as the orgasm roared through her. There was a snarl at the back of her throat, wild and barely tamed, and her nails must have been digging into Dutch so hard that she was definitely leaving marks. But none of it mattered because in that moment, the only thing that was important was how they felt.

Dutch hissed as she raked her nails up his back, whimpering into his shoulder, and his thrusts sped up again until he was roughly pounding into her. Ari bit down on his neck, her teeth tearing into the flesh, and she hung on for dear life as her orgasm threatened to wreck her completely. She saw stars behind her eyes and every pore and nerve ending in her body was acutely aware of Dutch and the pleasure he was giving her, unlike anything she could have ever imagined.

Her pussy clenched around his cock, milking him, teasing him, demanding that he give into his peak as well. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him into her and capturing him in her warmth. When Dutch growled, a loud, deep sound that seemed to shake the world around Ari, a wide smile spread over her lips.

She felt his motions getting jerkier and when he exploded into her, she thought she would damn near start crying. It was the closest thing to a spiritual experience she had ever had, and the intensity of it left her wobbling, heaving, and a little bit frantic.

They were both drenched in sweat and Dutch’s scent was so strong that she felt like she’d bathed in him. Ari licked up along Dutch’s neck softly, loving the way he trembled as she reached a spot behind his ear, making him grumble again and pull away from her oh so slowly. He paused once to kiss her and give her a smile that was equal parts affection and lust. When he pulled out of her, she couldn’t help but miss him immediately.

Somehow, they both fit on the cot, Ari nestled in Dutch’s arms and their bodies so close together that there was hardly space for air between them. Her back was to his chest and the strong, steady beats of his heart were so soothing. She felt her eyelids getting heavy and her body relaxing for what seemed like the first time since she’d left New York for this mission.

“That was…” she started after a while, trying to find words to describe what she’d felt.

But how do you describe perfection?

“Yeah,” he agreed, chuckling at her indecision and lack of capability to really verbalize what they had experienced. “You better make sure that I can find you when I’m back from this hellhole, though. I don’t think I’m done with you.”

Those words cut right through her. Ari’s teeth gnawed on the inside of her cheek, realizing that she was going to have to get out of the jungle the following day and travel back to the States for her debriefing. Somehow, between picking up his rifle and ending up in bed with him, Ari had completely forgotten that this was supposed to only be a bit of fun, something to let off steam.

She was twisting her brain up in knots, trying to remind herself that she’d only met this man and knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was dangerous and sexy—the best combination.

“I’ll try,” she promised with a weak smile, snuggling up against him again and putting the bleakness of their future out of her head.

For now, she could enjoy this moment for what it was. Tomorrow be damned.
 

CHAPTER NINE

Dutch

Dutch Henley was a lot of things, but a calm man he was not.

He’d never taken himself for a guy with an attitude problem, not really. If anything, he’d been damn near stoic for most his life, a trait often thrown at him as an accusation rather than a compliment. But those who knew him were acutely aware that beneath that solid, still appearance roared a predator that was hard to contain and even tougher to handle.

So the fact that he had gotten progressively worse over the last year or so was something that he thought no one should have really noticed, but apparently his assumptions were way off on the money on that. Dusting off his leather jacket as he picked himself up off the sidewalk, he should have realized as much.

“The fuck was that for?” he demanded, spreading his arms as he looked at Grant and Grim, standing in front of the door like two bouncers at a club.

Behind them, Dutch could see the overturned tables and the broken glasses from the brawl, with some unlucky drunk rubbing his probably dislocated jaw as Connor was trying to smooth things over with him. At a place called The Dive, a man should have expected to get hit when he wasn’t careful about what he said to whom, right?

“Dutch, stop it. Go walk it off,” Grant said, exchanging a look with his twin and receiving a nod of agreement.

Grant’s right hand still had deep gashes on it, malformations from the wound he had gotten in that nameless jungle more than a year ago. Every time Dutch looked at his friend and fellow squad-mate, he couldn’t escape the sight of that hand and the memories it brought back.

Ari’s dark hair as it tumbled down her shoulders, that hawk-like look in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder, green eyes aflame with something he couldn’t quite name… she was a vision, an apparition that could have been a ghost for all Dutch knew at this point. He hadn’t seen her since that mission and if he’d taken a moment to think about it, he would have probably realized that his foul mood might have had more to do with that fact than he cared to admit.

“What do you mean walk it off? He fucking called us sissies! He insulted everything we stand for,” Dutch argued, anger rising in him as steadily as the tide.

“He’s drunk. You’re probably drunk. It’s the middle of the fucking day, man, just cool it. We don’t need any more trouble here. Wasn’t Seattle enough?” Grim asked, cocking a brow.

Dutch shoved his hands into his pockets, huffing. Seattle felt like an eon ago, but it was actually less than two weeks prior that they’d been waiting to be sent on another mission while holed up in that sad excuse of a city and Dutch had ended up trashing a bar because of an unfortunate combination of too much scotch and a shitty mood. Connor had sat him down after it and told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t shape up, he’d be looking at an extended vacation from Squad Six.

Dutch didn’t believe he’d do it, though. But one look at Connor now, kneeling next to the wounded prick, his face contorted in a grimace of pity and rage, Dutch started questioning his convictions. He opened his mouth to say something additional to the cougar twins but then huffed, waving them off as he spun around and walked off.

“Fuck you guys too. Don’t expect any pity from me the next time you get into this sort of shit,” he snapped over his shoulder, crossing the street with his hands shoved into his pockets.

He didn’t look back, but he didn’t need to in order to be sure that the twins were watching him as long as he was still on the street, before they would return to the bar and do their part in calming things down. There had been a lot of that lately—people around Dutch attempting to somehow mitigate his hurricane-like irritation. It hardly worked.

The only thing keeping him of sound mind and body at this point were missions. It was like the only time he could really concentrate anymore was when he had his rifle in his hands and he was cooped up in a nest, waiting for someone to royally fuck up. The fact that his performance hadn’t suffered was probably one of the only reasons that Connor was still tolerating this bullshit from him.

Not like he was any better back when things went to shit with Cassie,
Dutch thought darkly.

But that thought had to be put out of his head real fast. If it wasn’t, then he’d be admitting that there was something deeper to his behavior at the moment. Something comparable to, say, the love one might have for his mate. And that was ludicrous, right?

You don’t even know her. It was one night. Get the fuck over her,
Dutch chanted to himself, the same words that he’d told himself over and over and fucking over again.

They didn’t seem to stick very well, though.

He walked down the street at a fast pace, not caring where he was going. It was when he came to a bus stop that he paused to think about where in hell he was going or what he was going to do. The option of returning to base was there, dangled in front of him like a carrot, promising more trouble with higher-ups and the possibility of getting a thorough reaming from Hemingway or someone of the same caliber. That didn’t really appeal to him at that point, especially with alcohol in his system.