Dance With Me (11 page)

“Get up, come on get down with the sickness…”

The lyrics took on a new meaning as Major ground himself against her and Rebecca felt her cheeks heat with immediate arousal.

This is so fucking hot.
Major’s eyes never left hers and Rebecca rubbed her palms against his chest and gyrated her pelvis against him. They established a rhythm of press, grind, relax, and Rebecca grew conscious of the increasing wetness in her panties.

Desperate for him to carry her off somewhere—anywhere—she leaned her torso away from his and palmed her breasts. He looked down, watching as she pushed them together and squeezed. Rebecca pinched her nipples, already puckered and hard, begging for his touch. His hands, his mouth,
anything.
Major’s focus zeroed in on her nipples and he licked his lips. Rebecca’s clit throbbed in response.

She wanted to speed up the beat, grind herself against him faster and faster until she came. The crush of dancers around them faded and disappeared as they moved together, all but fucking in a sea of people.

“Get up, come on get down with the sickness…”

Rebecca already had the sickness, was feverish with it, and the cure was more of him.
Major.
She tried to increase their gyrations, but Major’s hands held her, controlled the tempo, keeping her on the edge. He kept the rhythm, his hips pressing relentlessly against hers, and the fast, hard beat of the song felt unbearably slow.

The song changed again, and Rebecca barely noticed, hadn’t known they’d been dancing long enough for the previous song to end. This one was a little lighter and slower, and Rebecca vaguely realized it was “Sweet Dreams.” The song was appropriate, perfect for them, and ideal for the slow ride to orgasm he’d established. Rebecca groaned against the need to come. She
would
come, whether he sped up or not. It was just a matter of when.
Holy shit, did I just plan to come on a dance floor?

Major slowly slid his hands up her back and Rebecca leaned against them, letting her head and arms fall back. He could hold her, she was confident. The way he’d carried her to the bedroom that first night was branded on her memory, along with the intense sexuality he’d shown her.
Only me.
The possessive thought took her by surprise, but Rebecca didn’t linger on it, too consumed with the dance.

His hips continued the blatantly sexual movements, slower now, but harder. Rebecca pushed her breasts together and pinched her nipples again. She heard his responding growl over the strong beat of the Eurythmics song.

Rebecca lifted her head and met his eyes again. They were still hard and angry, but now they were hot, burning her with the barely banked fire there. She straightened and wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his waist. Lost in the haze of music and stimulation, Rebecca lifted one leg over his hip, uncaring of the audience they were probably gathering. Major’s movements changed slightly and he slid one hand to her thigh, holding her leg in place.

He placed his lips against her ear and bit her earlobe before snarling, “Are you
trying
to make me come?”

Rebecca stroked her body against his and licked his ear. “God, yes.”

“Not here.” His words were clipped, laced with impatient fury and he dropped her leg and maneuvered them toward the edge of the dance floor, never parting their hips. When the crowd was thinner Major lifted his head and looked around. He spun Rebecca around suddenly and force-walked her to a black curtain. He jerked the curtain aside impatiently and shoved her behind it.

The horde of people danced just on the other side, oblivious to the fact that they’d disappeared. Or not. Maybe they had an audience. Rebecca didn’t care.

The black curtain hid sound equipment and wires and there was barely room to turn around. But Major obviously wasn’t concerned and Rebecca wasn’t either. He pushed her against a black piece of equipment and wrapped a hand in her hair. He tugged until she sat on the…whatever it was. Major kicked aside small speakers and stepped closer. Rebecca propped her feet on them. She had a feeling she was going to need the leverage.

Rebecca gasped as Major forced her head back to look up at him. He watched her through those bottomless eyes for long moments before he lowered his lips to hers.

The kiss was violent, both of them frenzied with need. Their tongues fought for control, tangling and tasting. Rebecca unbuttoned the baggy jeans he wore and thrust her hand inside. She wrapped her hand around his cock and squeezed then brushed her thumb over the precum seeping from the tip. Major groaned and reached between them to pull himself free of the pants. He wrenched her legs open, pushed her skirt up, grabbed the crotch of her panties and ripped them.

Before she realized it, he was between her thighs and shoving his cock inside her. Rebecca arched her hips closer and cried out at the sudden fullness. He was so thick that she felt every inch, every ridge, and the pleasure was agonizing. She was so turned on, so wet that he didn’t have to thrust more than once before he was completely inside her.

He held still for a moment, his breath heaving. Major met her eyes and Rebecca arched into him with a whimper. Suddenly he was fucking her hard and fast, their bodies slick with sweat from dancing. Major’s lips rested against her ear and Rebecca loved each harsh breath that escaped his lungs.

“Don’t you…
ever
…dance…” His head tilted back for a moment and he shuddered before lowering his gaze to hers to finish the sentence, “…with
anyone
…like that…again.”

Major licked his thumb and pressed it against her clit, rubbing in tempo with his thrusts. Rebecca groaned and urged him on faster. Without warning, she flew apart, moving her hips up and down against him, draining every ounce of pleasure from her orgasm. She hadn’t finished coming when Major took over, his hands squeezing her hips and pulling her onto him in fast, short strokes before throwing his head back and gritting his teeth against the intensity of his own release.

Rebecca felt the hot spurts and squeezed her pussy around him, working herself up and down on his cock until his movements slowed and stopped. His shoulders were hunched and he pressed a quick kiss against her neck before pulling away.

Major didn’t step back completely though. He slid his hand to her pussy again and stroked. His cum trickled out and down the curves of her ass as he spread the wetness for long, breathless moments. When Rebecca felt desire begin to stir again, Major pulled his fingers out and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. Rebecca licked it slowly, tasting herself and him. She quaked and moaned against the unbearable delectation. Major leaned in and whispered in her ear, his voice full of barely restrained viciousness, “
Never
. Do you hear me?”

With that cryptic comment he was gone, barely fastening his jeans before slipping through the black curtain.

* * * *

The thumping music of the club faded into the background as the major stalked away. Tried to stalk, anyway. His body was so relaxed and sated that all he wanted to do was curl into Rebecca and sleep. That had been, beyond a shadow of doubt, the hottest dance of his entire life. Hell, just thinking about it made his cock twitch again. And after coming as hard as he had, that was a fucking miracle in and of itself.

The major looked around, trying to get his bearings and figure out where he was. “Fuck.” He had no clue how to get back to the seedy motel and he was so far away from the taxi pickup zone outside the club that he had no chance of finding a cab. And there was no way in hell he was going back. Not even to stand outside. He should never have sought her out. It was fucking insanity, quite possibly suicide. Not to mention the danger she would be in if…the major cut off that train of thought. Rebecca was safe. She was surrounded by SEALs. It didn’t get much safer than that.

But he’d put himself in an irritating situation by storming out of the club and down the street. Now he’d have to wander around until he figured out where he was. He’d been too preoccupied in the cab on the way to the club to notice where he was going.
Those mistakes will get you killed.
The major huffed. Yep, Rebecca had damn near killed him. He rubbed his brow, trying to dispel the stress headache building behind his eyes. Dropping his hand, he looked around at the irritatingly unfamiliar scenery.

The major sighed in resignation and began to randomly walk down a street. He wasn’t afraid of the punks that roamed alleys after dark. If Naseem Syed Javid hadn’t managed to kill the major yet…well, he didn’t worry too much about anyone else succeeding. He allowed a cruel smile to curl the corners of his eyes. The major had quite a price on his head in several countries, with more than five terrorist organizations. Fortunately, none of them had the faintest clue who he was, what government he worked for, or even what he looked like at any given point in time. Javid was just the most recent addition to what had become quite a long list.

“You.” A deep, menacing voice came from behind the major. He smiled that cruel feeling smile again and let the sweetness of Rebecca fade from his limbs as his training kicked in. Good. He’d like to clean up the streets of his homeland a bit since he had the opportunity.

The major turned around and bit off a curse when he saw who stood before him. It figured. Not many people could sneak up on him like that.

“Are you fucking following me?” Paulson growled as he stalked the major slowly, caution evident in every move.

The major thought furiously. If he told Paulson he’d been at the club for Rebecca, it was likely he’d end up with a few sore muscles for being truthful. He shrugged mentally. Fine, he’d lie.

“Somewhat. I have a lead.” That was true, at least.

Paulson frowned and cocked his head to the side. “A lead? Who?”

The major took a few steps closer and said, “Do you know Amaya Hughes?”

Paulson looked away, thoughtful. “I don’t think so. Why?”

The major rolled his eyes. Of course he didn’t. Paulson wasn’t cut out for the deep digging. “One of your team members is dating her. Has been for just under two years. Every time you have a mission brief or new intel come through, within twelve hours she’s making a call to London.”

Paulson shrugged. “So?”

Moron.
“There’s a large Muslim community there, mostly harmless, hardworking people just trying to make a good life. There are a few, though, that I believe are controlling the entire European terrorist circuit from London.”

Paulson shrugged again. “So how is a SEAL’s girlfriend implicated because she makes calls there?”

The major watched Paulson carefully, looking for any type of reaction. “Because she was born in Baghdad. Her parents were killed in 2005. She was barely fifteen. Managed to make it to London, finished school, and became involved with a man named Naseem Ayed Javid. Suddenly, her name changes from Anam Hasni to Amaya Hughes. She made a clean break from Javid as soon as her name changed. When she moved to the US she fabricated most of her background. It was a damn good cover, too. It was a motherfucker to dig it up.” The major shook his head in irritation. It had been one of the hardest backgrounds to fully uncover that he’d ever investigated. “Anyway, just a few hours after the brief on days you receive intel, she goes to Walmart and buys a prepaid phone. Cash only. Then she registers it at an Internet café in Newport News. From that phone, she calls London for less than ten minutes. Then she trashes the phone and goes home. Within twenty-four hours of her calls to London, something changes. Compounds move, people disappear. The intel’s no good. Surely you’ve noticed how hard it’s been to get a solid lead. It falls through, doesn’t it? Just before your team has a chance to get there. Or you get there and the shit hits the fan.”

“How do you know she’s using prepaid phones if she pays cash and registers them all the way in Newport News? And how do you know she’s calling London?” Paulson was confused, his brow furrowed and his posture relaxed.

“Because she sent one text message, just once, that tipped me off enough to follow her. I retrieved the phone after she trashed it. Not hard to trace the number to London, but that’s where it stops. I can’t get a fix on who she’s calling, just a general location. She’s calling a prepaid phone registered to her old identity, so it’s hard to tell exactly who it is. But I fed you intel three times to make sure she was consistent. I know she’s the leak, but I’m working on concrete proof.” The major gritted his teeth. If he wasn’t in the US, he wouldn’t even worry about proving it. What he already had would be enough. But things weren’t always as easy to manipulate in the good old US of A as they were in other places, so he had to work a little differently. It was downright obnoxious.

Paulson had gone stiff, his hands balled into fists by his side. “Are you telling me,” he ground out, “that someone on my team is feeding information to her?”

“Yes, I am.” The major tried to soften the blow. “Not intentionally though. I don’t think he has any idea. She may be drugging him.”

Paulson took a deep breath and looked away. “Who is it?” His voice was soft, menacing, and the major actually felt a twinge of pity for the poor bastard who’d fallen for Amaya Hughes’s charms.

“Lieutenant Javier Martinez.”

Paulson’s head jerked around and the major fought the urge to step back from the violence in his eyes.

“Martinez?” Paulson took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Lt. Martinez, the man that took over as SEAL team leader when I got promoted, is dating our leak? Unconsciously feeding her information? Lieutenant fucking Martinez is doing this. Has been for two goddamn years. Is that what you’re saying?”

The major shrugged. If it wasn’t for the fact that so many people had already been killed, it would be downright funny. “That’s the power of pussy.”

Paulson seethed in anger and turned away. “I’ll take care of this,” he growled over his shoulder.

“Wrong, Paulson,” the major bit out in a commanding voice that had made harder men than Chris Paulson quake in their boots. “You will continue as though you know nothing. If this is our leak, then I will take care of it.” He paused and conceded, “But I’ll give Martinez the option.”