Wet For Her Warriors (Book 5 of the WILD -- Warriors Intense in Love & Domination -- Boys of Special Forces) (38 page)

BOOK: Wet For Her Warriors (Book 5 of the WILD -- Warriors Intense in Love & Domination -- Boys of Special Forces)
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But the way his hands shook, dragging back through
his hair, ripped my goddamn gut out.

“So how long is this shit gonna take? I’ve got plans
for Mardi Gras, Kill. I’m supposed to leave tomorrow.”

I surged to my feet. Why didn’t I realize the
compassion would be wasted? And for that matter, relief. “You know the term
jailbait, Trey? It’s around for a reason. You slept with a pair of senators’
daughters.”

“No.” The protest was as snide as the Mardi Gras
hall pass request. “I slept with
one
senator’s daughter. The
legal
one.”

“So she brought her friend along for fun?”

“Emily’s a curious kid! She wanted to watch.”

“In her bra and school skirt? With her phone set on
Record?”

“Her sweater made her too hot. And she wanted to
capture everything for memories.”

I gave in to pinching his nose. It wasn’t a move I
indulged often, knowing it made both Trey and Lance see red, but right now, I
prayed that Trey saw a whole fucking rainbow of rage.

“Memories,” I repeated. “You really believed that?”

Mirth gleamed in my brother’s eyes. “You want the
real answer, or the one we’re gonna fork over to the PR Department?”

I almost gave in to the urge to laugh. “You really
don’t get it, do you?”

“Come on, Kill. Of course I do. Hell, I get
Christmas cards every year from the team down in PR. With the bonuses they make
because of me, they’re buying cars for their kids and taking vacations to Bora
Bora.”

“Better tell them to research economy models and a
few days in a forest yurt.”

“Huh?”

I leveled my stare, hard and unyielding, across the
room. “You haven’t just spilled the milk this time, Trey. This is a world-class
oil slick, meaning things are going to get stickier before they get better.” I
stopped there. He didn’t have to be told the entire story. Not yet, at least. I
still had trouble believing it myself. Despite Senator Wooten’s enraged call
for a press conference later today, no doubt designed to paint Trey as a
predatorial pervert, could “little” Emily Wooten have actually been acting with
the full green light from her father? I’d turned down the housing development
deal from Wooten’s cronies over a year ago. It had looked like beneficial
low-cost housing on the outside, but the structures wouldn’t have lasted their
first exposure to a brutal Chicago winter.

It was very possible that Wooten had done his
homework, and unearthed the weakness in Stone Global’s massive hull. And now we
had an oil slick.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Trey
demanded.

I folded my arms and stated, “No in-house PR.
Industrial-sized slicks require industrial-grade cleanup. Andrea Asher is on
her way from California, and she’s bringing her best team for our job.” I
checked my watch. “We have five hours until they arrive. Great timing. They’ll
get here right as Wooten gets up on his soapbox.”

“Fucking great.” Trey looked like a man on his way
to the gallows again. “Should I order beer and pinenuts?”

“No beer,” I snapped.

“Cold fish prick.”

I rose and crossed to the door that led to my
private bathroom. “Sounds like a perfect temperature for your shower. Wash your
hair and shave, too. Then get some goddamn sleep. I’ve had Britta pull out the
sofa sleeper in the anteroom for you.”

Trey closed the door on me with a furious
whomp
.
Again, nothing I wasn’t used to, another piece of family best kept under the
rug along with the other filth it was my job to keep well-swept at all times.
On some occasions, that meant enlisting the help of a cleaning crew like
Asher’s.

As long as they didn’t discover the darkest, dirtiest
secrets under that rug, we’d be good.

 

#

 

 

And
coming in Fall 2014:

Hot
For His Hostage

The
W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces, Book 6

By
USA Today
Bestselling Author Angel Payne

 

 

It’s the layover
she’ll never forget.

Stuck in an
airport bar with a choice between three drunk roommates or one dark and
delicious stranger, Zoe Chestain decides to live dangerously for once, and
succumbs to a night of Shay Bommer’s dominant passion. But her cloud of sensual
bliss is blown apart the next day, when the Vegas dancer and her friends are
taken hostage by the hijackers of their flight home. Zoe’s horror deepens when
her kidnapper reveals himself.
Shay
.

It’s the mission
he’ll never give up.

Shay Bommer is
one of the Army’s best, a Special Forces soldier who followed in the footsteps
of his brother knowing infiltration with the enemy would sometimes be
necessary. But this operation, deep under cover with one of the CIA’s most
sought-after criminals, has cost him more than the trust of the most
breathtaking submissive he’s ever had in his arms. He’s given up the
camaraderie of his unit, the protection of his country, and even the esteem of
his brother  in the quest to rescue one priceless treasure. His mother.

Can they turn
“never” into forever?

Zoe’s danced to
some crazy songs in her time, but no wild choreography has prepared her for the
adventure of life with Shay—or the return to his bed that means surrendering
more than just her body. As they run from the bad guys, the good guys, and
everyone in between, she learns about the man behind all his masks, and the
Dominant for whom she’s always longed.

When Shay honors
his word and unlocks her bonds for good, Zoe must face the truth—that her heart
will always be Shay’s willing captive. But staying with him means dying with
him. The heat is on. Can Shay and Zoe’s love survive the flames?

 

#

 

 

AVAILABLE
EVERYWHERE NOW:

Theirs
To Cherish

By
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

Shayla
Black

 

Sneak
Preview

 

CALLIE trembled as she lay back on the padded table
and Sean Kirkpatrick’s strong fingers wrapped around her cuffed wrist, guiding
it back to the bindings above her head.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she murmured.

He paused, then drew in a breath as if he sought
patience. “Breathe, lovely.”

That gentle, deep brogue of his native Scotland
brought her peace. His voice both aroused and soothed her, and she tried to let
those feelings wash through her.

“Can you do that for me?” he asked.

His fingers uncurled from her wrist, and he grazed
the inside of her outstretched arm with his knuckles. As always, his touch was
full of quiet strength. He made her ache. She shivered again, this time for an
entirely different reason.

“I’ll try.”

Sean shook his head, his deep blue eyes seeming to see
everything she tried to hide inside. That penetrating stare scared the hell out
of her. What did he see when he looked at her? How much about the real her had
he pieced together?

The thought made her panic. No one could know her
secret.
No
one.
She’d kept it from everyone, even Thorpe, during
her four years at Dominion. She’d finally found a place where she felt safe,
comfortable. Of course she’d have to give it up someday, probably soon. She
always did. But please, not yet.

Deep breath. Don’t panic. He wants your
submission, not your secrets.

“You’ll need to do better than try. You’ve been
‘trying’ for over six months,” he reminded her gently. “Do you think I’d truly
hurt you?”

No. Sean didn’t seem to have a violent bone in his
body. He wasn’t a sadist. He never gripped her harshly. He never even raised
his voice. She’d jokingly thought of him as the sub whisperer because he pushed
her boundaries with a gentleness she found both irresistible and insidious.
Certainly, he’d dragged far more out of her than any other man had. Tirelessly,
he’d worked to earn her trust. Callie felt terrible that she could never give
it, not when doing so could be fatal.

Guilt battered her. She should stop wasting his
time.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she assured, blinking up at
him, willing him to understand.

“Of course not.” He pressed his chest over hers,
leaning closer to delve into her eyes.

Callie couldn’t resist lowering her lids, shutting
out the rest of the world. Even knowing she shouldn’t, she sank into the soft
reassurance of his kiss. Each brush of his lips over hers soothed and aroused.
Every time he touched her, her heart raced. Her skin grew tight. Her nipples
hardened. Her pussy moistened and swelled. Her heart ached. Sean Kirkpatrick
would be so easy to love.

As his fingers filtered into her hair, cradling her
scalp, she exhaled and melted into his kiss—just for a sweet moment. It was the
only one she could afford.

A fierce yearning filled her. She longed for him to
peel off his clothes, kiss her with that determination she often saw stamped
into his eyes, and take her with the single-minded fervor she knew he was
capable of. But in the months since he’d collared her, he’d done nothing more
than stroke her body, tease her, and grant her orgasms when he thought she’d earned
them. She hadn’t let him fully restrain her. And he hadn’t yet taken her to
bed.

Not knowing the feel of him deep inside her, of
waiting and wanting until her body throbbed relentlessly, was making her
buckets full of crazy.

After another skillful brush of his lips, Sean ended
the kiss and lifted his head, breathing hard. She clung, not ready to let him
go. How had he gotten under her skin so quickly? His tenderness filled her
veins like a drug. The way he had addicted Callie terrified her.

“I want you. Sean, please . . .” She damn near wept.

With a broad hand, he swept the stray hair from her
face. Regret softened his blue eyes before he ever said a word. “If you’re not
ready to trust me as your Dom, do you think you’re ready for me as a lover? I
want you completely open to me before we take that step. All you have to do is
trust me, lovely.”

Callie slammed her eyes shut. This was so fucking
pointless. She
wanted
to trust Sean, yearned to give him
everything—devotion, honesty, faith. Her past ensured that she’d never give any
of those to anyone. But he had feelings for her. About that, she had no doubt.
They’d grown just as hers had, unexpectedly, over time, a fledgling limb
morphing into a sturdy vine that eventually created a bud just waiting to blossom
. . . or die.

She knew which. They could never have more than this
faltering Dom/sub relationship, destined to perish in a premature winter.

The responsible choice would be to call her safe
word, walk out, quit him. Release them both from this hell. Never look back.

For the first time in nearly a decade, Callie
worried that she might not have the strength to say good-bye.

What was wrong with her tonight? She was too
emotional. She needed to pull up her big-girl panties and snap on her bratty
attitude, pretend that nothing mattered. It was how she’d coped for years. But
she couldn’t seem to manage that with Sean.

“You’re up in your head, instead of here with me,”
he gently rebuked her.

Another dose of guilt blistered her. “Sorry, Sir.”

Sean sighed heavily, stood straight, then held out
his hand to her. “Come with me.”

Callie winced. If he intended to stop the scene,
that could only mean he wanted to talk. These sessions where he tried to dig
through her psyche became more painful than the sexless nights she spent in
unfulfilled longing under his sensual torture.

Swallowing down her frustration, she dredged up her
courage, then put her hand in his.

Holding her in a steady grip, Sean led her to the
far side of Dominion’s dungeon, to a bench in a shadowed corner. As soon as she
could see the rest of the room, Callie felt eyes on her, searing her skin. With
a nonchalant glance, she looked at the others sceneing around them, but they
seemed lost in their own world of pleasure, pain, groans, sweat, and need. A lingering
sweep of the room revealed another sight that had the power to drop her to her
knees. Thorpe in the shadows. Staring. At her with Sean. His expression wasn’t
one of disapproval exactly . . . but he wasn’t pleased.

Sean sat, then pulled her onto his lap, supporting
her back with a strong grip around her waist. He cupped her chin in his palm
and sent her a pointed glance. “Eyes on me, lovely.”

She complied, trying not to think about the fact
that it was getting harder and harder to meet his stare and not give herself to
him for real.

Originally, she’d allowed Sean into her life because
he irritated Thorpe, who sometimes looked at her as if she were the brightest
star in the sky, then always chose another woman to master. She’d wanted to
make him jealous. Hell, she’d wanted to see if he even gave a shit. Sean had
walked into the club with his quiet sophistication and dry humor, taken one
look at her, and never glanced at anyone else. It had done her ego a world of
good—until Thorpe had removed his protection and allowed Sean to collar her.
Without so much as blinking, he’d let her go.

So why the hell was Thorpe watching her now?

“You’re away with the fairies, Callie. Get out of
your head,” Sean growled. “Focus on me. Or we’ll end tonight now.”

 

#

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