SEAL’s Desire (4 page)

Knowing how difficult their missions were and the dangers they faced in the deserts of Afghanistan, she couldn’t tell him over email, Skype or text. She’d waited, knowing that when he got back, and as soon as he was rested up, she’d tell him she couldn’t marry him. Derek was a damned good guy and he deserved a woman who loved him with all her heart as a lover.

The problem was, she’d been attracted to Remy, and not in any way, shape or form in a brotherly fashion. No, she’d wanted to have hot, raunchy sex with him, to ride him like a stallion and make love to him until neither of them could see straight, and then do it all over again.

Nothing about her break-up with Derek was going to be easy. And she really didn’t think she’d stand a snowball’s chance in hell with Remy once she broke his best buddy’s heart. During her lowest moments, she’d actually wished Derek were out of the way so she could pursue Remy without guilt.

Then Remy had come back with Derek in a body bag.

The shock had been instant and complete. Derek couldn’t die. She really did love him and hadn’t wanted him dead. The reality was like losing the brother she’d never had, a family member she treasured, and he’d been such a nice guy, deserving a long happy life.

Guilt warred with grief as she watched them lower his body into the ground. His parents had been there, his mother sobbing and inconsolable. And Mitchell had stood silent throughout the eulogy, her heart sore, her chest aching with her loss.

Remy had been at her side. He’d put his arm around her and she’d leaned into his body, needing the warmth and strength he represented.

When he’d driven her home, he’d offered to sit with her, to be with her until she didn’t need him.

In something of a trance, she’d led him into her apartment, sat with him on the couch and wrapped her arms around him. The next thing she knew, she was kissing him, unbuttoning his shirt and stripping her dress off her shoulders.

She’d shimmied out of the dress, panties and bra and straddled him on the couch. For a moment, he’d hesitated, opening his mouth to say something.

Mitchell hadn’t let him, refusing to break the trance and face reality. She slid down over him, taking him into her, as if by filling her so intimately, the act would fill the gaping maw created by their shared loss.

For a short time, she forgot they’d been at a funeral, forgot her boyfriend had died, and forgot that making love to his best friend before the grave had time to settle was wrong.

But damn it, Derek hadn’t come back to give her the opportunity for the closure she’d so badly needed. Angry at him for dying, she wasn’t thinking straight. She wanted to hurt him for leaving her and she wanted to forget the pain.

When she took Remy inside her body, tears spilled down her cheeks. Angry at herself for giving in to grief, she drove her body faster, harder, her fingernails digging into Remy’s skin.

They’d made love on the couch, their joining, hot, desperate and uncontrolled. She’d begged him to spank her, knowing she deserved to be punished for giving in to her baser desires after burying the man she was supposed to love.

When making love on the couch wasn’t enough, she’d dragged him to his feet. Still hard, wet and throbbing, Remy had bent, scooped her up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Mitchell and Remy did it in the living room, against the wall on the way to the bedroom and finally collapsed into the bed where he’d slowed the pace and caressed every part of her body with a gentleness she didn’t deserve. By the time he came inside her, she was crying again, silent tears, streaming down her cheeks.

He rolled to his side and gathered her close, holding her until her sobs subsided and she came to her senses.

Then she’d booted him out of her bed and her apartment and refused to see him, the guilt too much to bear. A year had gone by and the guilt had faded. One day, she’d answered an email from Remy. He’d texted her and she hadn’t deleted it. Soon they were talking electronically and on his last deployment, she’d emailed him every day.

She’d let herself believe they might finally get past Derek’s death and the terrible thing they’d done. They’d gone so far as to promise each other that if they didn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day, they’d go out together.

Mitchell knew she wouldn’t have a date. She hadn’t been seeing anyone in the year since Derek’s death. But Remy was a very attractive, sexual man with needs. She couldn’t expect him to go a year without dating someone on redeployments stateside. Still a slim hope that he’d call when he returned from deployment had remained firmly rooted in her mind.

Then a week ago, Kelli had disappeared and her boss had given the case to an incompetent ass. Mitchell had to go rogue undercover in hope of saving her friend.

Now she was trying to salvage a mission she’d assigned herself, and Remy was there, holding her, sliding his throbbing cock into her. Sometimes she thought fate was playing cruel games with her life.

As she sank over him, her memories of the last time they were together ebbed and flowed though her. Her body knew his as if their one night together had only been yesterday.

She lifted his hands to her breasts and arched her back, pressing them into his palms. If she let herself, she could almost forget that one of the most formidable mobsters was outside their door, with listening and infrared devices, checking her out, making certain she was who she said she was. A whore, who’d take money for sex.

Mitchell rode Remy, the firm thickness filling her; the added danger of her situation made her even more turned on than she could imagine. That someone could actually see the heat images of her and Remy getting it on made her pussy tighten.

Remy stilled, his hands on her hips, then he lifted her off him and flipped her onto her back, coming up over her. He leaned down. “Do you really think he’d be watching us?”

“Yes.” Mitchell wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “He doesn’t let anyone close, and he checks out all of his dancers.”

His brow wrinkled in a frown and he paused in mid-thrust. “Why?”

“I think he’s responsible for some of the women who’ve gone missing from the Virginia Beach area. I think he’s either selling them or drugging them and forcing them into prostitution.” She tightened her legs around him. “Don’t stop. We have to make this look convincing.”

Resuming his pace, Remy moved in and out of her, his dick hard, thick and long.

“Oh, yes!” she cried loudly, in case Hatch or his henchmen were listening into her session with Remy. “Fuck me, baby. Harder!”

“Do you like to play rough, little girl?” Remy popped her thigh with a cupped palm. The sound was much louder than the pain, the sting setting off electrical currents throughout her body.

“Yeah, baby. Do it again,” she cried, only half-acting now. She liked it when he played rough. Derek had been tame, too gentle and unimaginative in bed, treating her like a porcelain doll, rather than a hot-blooded woman with needs and desires more kinky than most.

Mitchell had always been tough. Her father had been a big influence in her life. She’d never done anything half-assed and always liked to play rough with the guys.

“Ride me, baby. Give it to me hard,” she said in a breathy voice.

He leaned over her and kissed the side of her neck. “Really? You want it rougher?”

She grasped his face in her hands and kissed him, capturing his lips between her teeth and pulling. “You’re the john, make it real.”

He sucked in a breath and blew it out. “You got it.” He reached behind him, unlocked her legs from around his waist and pulled free.

“Where ya going, honey—”

Before she could say more, he flipped her onto her belly and dragged her ass up into the air. “You want it rough, here it is.” Holding her hips in his big hands, he slammed his cock into her pussy, driving deep.

Her face buried in the sheets, she gasped. “Yeah!”

“Like that?” He pulled almost all the way out and slapped her bottom. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Hard. So very hard.”

“Beg for it.”

“Please,” she called out. “Please, let me have it.”

Remy slapped her bottom again.

The pain was deliciously sexy as he rammed his big cock into her tight channel. Her muscles contracted around him. “Please. Do it again,” she cried.

“I’ll give it to you,” he said, bending over her and grabbing her breasts as he took her from behind.

He moved inside her again and again until her nerves stretched to the screaming point, her body tensed and she came apart, shattering into a million pieces.

Remy thrust again, his fingers tightening on her breasts as he buried himself as deep as he could go. His body shuddered, his dick pulsing against her inner walls. He was breathing hard when he finally loosened his grip on her boobs. “Did you like that?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, big guy.” She stretched out beneath him and he lay on top of her for a moment before drawing free of her and rolling to his side on the bed.

“As good as it was, I have to be going.” She popped up and rolled off the side of the bed to her feet.

“That’s it? That’s all I get?” he asked, stretching out an arm.

Mitchell leaned over him and whispered in his ear, “I’ll come by your place later, after I ditch my tail.”

He pulled her down on top of him, his hand roving over her curves. “Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

“If you don’t see me in an hour, call my boss, tell him Hatch has me and send the cavalry.” She cupped his cheek. “One fuck. That’s all you get for your money, sweetheart.”

Remy ground his
teeth as Mitchell drove to the nearest twenty-four-hour convenience store.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

He snorted. “You’re asking me?”

She dropped him off and drove away without looking back. The car that had been following her parked across the street from the convenience store. Remy went inside, purchased a candy bar and a bottle of water, hoping they’d leave before he came out of the store.

When he walked out, the car was still on the street. Glad they hadn’t followed Mitchell, Remy was still annoyed they were watching him. Good. Let them.

He walked away from the convenience store, not really caring which way he headed, more testing whether they’d continue to follow him than anything.

They did, inching along the street behind him. At the next corner, he turned and walked faster, ditching his cell phone and wallet next to a bush. If they caught him with them, the data inside could lead them to his apartment and possibly to Mitchell if she really did show up later.

The street he was on wasn’t as well-lit as the one the convenience store was on. Remy knew he was taking a chance, but he wanted to get a feel for what he was up against, and who these people were following Mitchell.

As he predicted, the vehicle turned the corner behind him. They weren’t even trying to hide the fact they were following him. When they slid to a stop beside him, he figured confrontation was next on their list. Two men jumped out onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, you,” the bigger guy said.

Remy recognized him as one of the bouncers from the club. He figured he had two choices. Run and save his hide a possible beating, or stand his ground and find out what they wanted. He could probably take both of them. Bigger didn’t always mean better.

Wanting to appear compliant, he raised his hands. “Look, I’m just walking home. I don’t want any trouble.”

The two guys grabbed his arms and slammed him up against the brick wall of the building behind him.

“I told you, I don’t want any trouble. I’ve got a twenty-dollar bill in my wallet.” He didn’t resist their holds and kept his gaze downcast. “If you’re gonna mug me, take it and let me go.”

“We don’t want your money.”

While the bigger man held him, the smaller one frisked him, patting down his body, checking his back pocket for his wallet. “Where’s your wallet?”

“In my back pocket.”

“Try again, moron.”

“Fuck. I must have left it at the store.” He struggled half-heartedly. “Let me go. I have to go back to the store and get it before some dumbass finds it.”

“Your problem, not ours.” The smaller of two goons pressed his elbow against Remy’s throat. “What do you know about the bitch you were just fucking?”

Remy ground his teeth together and clenched his fists tight to hold onto his temper. They were talking about Mitchell and he didn’t like the way they were doing it. But this was her operation and her cover to portray a stripper and a whore. Tamping down his rage, he grinned. “If that’s all you wanted, why are you jacking me up? What do you want to know? How much she charged me? Was she good?” He narrowed his eyes. “Or are you her pimp and want to know if she’s on the up and up, giving you your cut?”

“How do you know her?”

“I picked her up at the club.” He attempted a shrug against their grasp. “Hell, if I’d known I’d get roughed up, I’d have passed. I mean she was good and all that, but not worth this.”

“Back at the club, you acted like you knew her.”

Remy snorted. “I thought I did. She reminded me of my ex-girlfriend. The bitch took all my stuff. She still owes me. You think I’d have paid her for sex if she still owed me? Fuck, no.”

“You from the navy base?” the talking goon asked.

“Yeah. Just back from deployment, looking for some release, if you know what I mean. Surrounded by guys for months, makes a man…you know.”

“Do yourself a favor and stay away from CC.”

“Why?” He widened his eyes and snapped his gaze between the guys. “Oh crap, does she have some STDs or something?”

The arm under his chin pressed harder until Remy could barely breathe. If he had to, he could fight his way out of this. But he resisted, playing the part of some dumb GI with a hard on and no brain cells.

“Just stay away from her.”

“All right, all right. You’ve made you point.”

The men let go of his arms, backed away and climbed into their vehicle.

As the doors opened and the overhead light blinked on, Remy caught a glimpse of a listening device like spies and private investigators used to creep on people. And if he wasn’t mistaken, a pair of high-powered night vision goggles lay beside the listening device on the front seat. Whoever could afford to buy those kinds of toys must have a lot at stake.