Soldier of Fortune Page 7
“So, you’d leave your room open so one of us could do the snooping?” one of the guys asked.
“Hell no,” Louie said. “I didn’t come down in the last shower. That would give you free range to rummage through my stuff as well.”
The banter continued throughout the meal, a way of dealing with the stress of their job. Louie kept a surreptitious eye on Mac and noticed she didn’t eat much, pushing her meal around her plate. Something had happened after he left the room. She’d intended to check her email, which suggested she’d received news from home. Louie wondered how to handle the situation. With most of his men, it was easy. He called them into his office and they talked the problem through. Other times, his men approached him. Personal problems wreaked havoc on a soldier, taking their head out of the game. They were a team. They relied on each other. One screw up could mean loss of their VIP or that one or all of them died.
The situation with Mac was different because of their personal history. Louie scowled down at his plate. He’d play it by ear. Observe. It was the only thing he could do in the circumstances.
* * * * *
Missing. Her father was missing from the home. At some stage during the night, he’d climbed out of bed, dressed and wandered outside. The director of the nursing home had assured Mac when she’d phoned that they were searching for him and had called the police.
Mac was worried sick and couldn’t do a thing from half a world away. She couldn’t leave Iraq on a whim, had known it when she signed up for six months. She didn’t know what to do. Somehow, she managed to get through the training session by channeling her impotent fury and sense of helplessness.
Mac worked through the training exercises with focus. A military machine. She’d scared the hell out of her team with her icy precision and concentration. A bitter laugh escaped as she strode toward their room. She hoped Louie turned up rather than heading to his office to take care of business or going to the gym. Restless energy hummed through her limbs, and she couldn’t keep still. She yanked the door open and did her usual pacing.
A glance at her watch told her it was the middle of the night in New Zealand. Mac powered up Louie’s laptop anyway to check her email. Nothing. She fired off an email and tried not to think about her father, confused and alone in an unfamiliar part of the city.
The door flew open just as she hit send. Their eyes met and Mac’s heart turned a hard somersault, slamming against her ribs. The hungry glint in his eyes, the hard mask of desire he didn’t try to hide told her they wanted the same thing.
She stood, quivering, her womb clenching in a hard pulse of need, her breasts exquisitely sensitive beneath the plain cotton of her bra. Each breath was an exercise in torture.
The lock on the door turned, the click loud in the tension-filled room. With two giant steps, Louie crowded her, pushing her up against the wall, his mouth slamming down on hers. She gripped his head, melting into his chest and molding herself to his body. This was what she wanted. Hard and fast. The edge of roughness. His tongue thrusting into her mouth, his dark flavor heady and alluring. She moaned, ripping his shirt from his trousers, sliding her hands over his warm flesh. This was what she needed. Without pulling away from the kiss, she fumbled with his trousers, desperate to free his cock and feel the smooth skin spearing against her belly. He winced at her feverish attempts to get his clothes off.
Louie ripped his mouth off hers. “Jesus, woman. Let me do that.”
“Sorry.” With Louie taking care of his clothes, she went to work on her own, bending to unlace her boots and unfasten her trousers.
Louie was ready before she’d started on her shirt and bra. He advanced, crowding her against the wall again, taking her mouth in another hard kiss. The wall was cold against her ass, the thin panties no barrier to the chill. She started when Louie roughly spread her legs, sighed when his fingers stroked across her swollen folds. A zing of pleasure shot through her, the friction of his fingers on the thin cotton a tantalizing drag over her flesh. Not enough. Not nearly enough. As if he read her desperation, he yanked her panties, ripping them off her body and running a questing finger the length of her cleft. He grunted at the warm syrup, thrusting one finger inside her while he unfastened the buttons of her shirt. Seconds later, he shoved her bra aside and sucked hard on one nipple.
Mac moaned, not caring who heard, merely wanting to drive away her pain and to feel instead. She arched into his touch. So good. Louie knew just how to touch her, he knew what she liked. She almost cried when he lifted his head and removed his finger. A protest built on her lips then the crown of his cock pressed at her entrance. He lifted her effortlessly, pressing her against the wall and working his way into her tight channel. She flexed around him, a needy cry bursting from between her lips. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.
“Too much?”
“Louie, I need you. Fuck me hard. Make it go away.” She bit into the cushion of her bottom lip, aghast at her words. He’d ask questions, maybe not now but later. To her relief, he started to plunge into her body. Hard, deep strokes that made them both gasp. She shuddered, the rub of his cock against her delicate tissues almost turning her inside out. Her eyes fluttered, closed and she sank into sensation. Pleasure so good it hurt. She drowned in the desire, the building need. The pleasure. Wedged between him and the wall she writhed, the delectable agony almost too much. Then the tension snapped and she flew, falling apart in his arms, shuddering through her orgasm. Louie shafted her deep. Two more hard strokes and she felt the flood of wetness. They both stilled, breathing hard. Louie crushed her mouth under his before gentling the kiss and moving back. He lifted her off his cock, the resulting emptiness bringing a frown.
She wanted him again.
“You up for some more?” he asked in a gritty voice, his blue eyes dark with passion.
“Yeah.” That’s what she liked about Louie. He didn’t make a big deal out of this, and when they were outside this bedroom, he treated her like one of the team. She liked that.
“Good.” He let her slide down his body and held her until she gained her footing. Gently, he unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and reached behind her to unfasten her bra. He pinched one nipple, the sharp burst of pain bringing a thick slice of pleasure.
“I feel like we’ve only taken off the edge,” she murmured as he yanked off her shirt. A sigh whooshed out and she reached out to touch.
“On the bed this time,” he said, capturing her hand. He led her over to the set of bunks and drew her down.
As always it was a tight fit, not that she’d complain. Close was good. Louie rolled her under him, his hot breath caressing her cheek before he kissed her. Immediately the tension amplified between them, her vagina clenching with renewed hunger. She shifted against him in silent demand, glad to feel his erection digging into her hip. Parting her legs, he slipped inside her, invading. Retreating. Wetness pooled between her thighs, along with renewed need.
Trouble. She and Louie were an accident waiting to happen. She knew it. She suspected Louie knew it too, yet she couldn’t keep away. He made all the ugliness, the pain, the worry recede, even if it was only short-term. He rocked their bodies together, their lips meeting again and again in languorous kisses.
The easy glide and faint drag over her swollen clit pushed her need to urgent. She twisted her body, arching against him, feeling safe, surrounded by his masculine strength. His strokes quickened, a guttural moan filling the room as he came with a convulsive heave of muscles.
Their lovemaking perfumed the air as he softened and pulled out of her. He grinned, a rakish grin of confidence as he kissed his way down her body. He tongued a damp path around her bellybutton, an ache of emptiness filling her as she waited for his next move. His fingers tickled across her hip bone then lower, combing through the trimmed pubic hair.
The heat of his mouth shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. Mac glanced down at his broad shoulders and his dark hair as he carefully sucked
on her swollen clit, bringing it back to vibrant life. A prickle of heat fired off, nerve endings leaping with joyful abandon. He took his time, handling her gently, the merest flicker of his tongue before pausing. The prickles of heat intensified, her pussy fluttering in time with her heartbeat. Her hips jerked. She pinched a nipple, tugged hard. Combined with the flicker of his tongue, the suction of his lips, it was enough to push her body into freefall. Her clit spasmed along with her vagina, the flash of heat roaring down her legs, flaring through her belly and echoing across her chest.
Slowly, she came down from the high, sighing and stretching with pleasure. Until she remembered her father.
“What’s the time?”
“Two thirty-five.”
Still not the time to ring the nursing home.
Louie moved up the bed and pulled her close. She knew he could feel the tension in her muscles and must wonder about the cause. With the sex they’d just had, they should both feel relaxed and limber.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, aiming for casual. The hard expression on his face told her she hadn’t pulled it off. Suspicion and questions suddenly hovered between them.
A knock on the door jolted them both.
“Yeah?” Louie called.
“Phone call for Mac.” It was Simon.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she said.
“It’s from home,” Simon said.
Silently Louie pulled away and climbed off the bunk. Mac rolled off and grabbed her clothes, rapidly dressing. She dragged her hands through her hair, scowled and rapidly unfastened the tight knot she’d confined it in for training.
Wordlessly, she opened the door to find Simon waiting. He took one look at her, his eyes narrowing. She caught the faint flare of his nostrils and blushed.
“Where’s the call?”
“In the mess. Tai’s waiting by the phone to make sure no one else tries to use it.”
Simon knew. Too late to worry now. Mac hurried to the mess and hoped none of the others realized what Simon had interrupted. The last thing she needed was gossip.
Louie grabbed his clothes and rapidly dressed. Mac had tensed when she’d heard about the phone call.
A tap on the door sounded and Louie scowled. It didn’t take a genius to work out who wanted him. “Yeah?” he snarled, hoping he’d put Simon off.
“Can I come in?”
Louie snorted. Somehow he didn’t think he’d be able to stop his mate. And, from the sound of it, Simon wanted to rip him a new one. He might be boss but that never stopped any of the men from giving their opinion when they thought it warranted.
“Louie?”
“Dammit, come in.”
The door opened and Simon stepped inside. He wrinkled his nose but shut the door. “Smells like a whorehouse in here.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never frequented one.”
“You’re fucking her.” The harsh cast to Simon’s face said it all. Despite their friendship, Simon thought he’d forced Mac into the sex somehow. He thought the worst of him.
“So much for friendship,” Louie snarled. “Don’t I get the benefit of the doubt?”
“If we were at home in a civilian situation it would be different,” Simon said. “But we’re not. We’re at war where personal shit can take a person’s head out of the game. One mistake over here and people die.”
“I know that.” Louie’s icy reply didn’t make Simon back down. Truth was, Simon was right to call him on their relationship. “Talk to Mac,” he said finally. “Ask her about coercion.”
“I intend to.”
Louie sighed and dragged a hand through his short hair. What a fuckin’ mess, although how he’d thought they’d manage to keep their relationship a secret with the way they all lived so close he didn’t know. “Talk to Mac,” he said again, walking to the door. He opened it and waited for Simon to leave.
Simon hesitated before saying, “I’ll talk to Mac.” The tense set of his face and shoulders told Louie the rest. If he didn’t like what he heard he’d make noise with the management. Female recruits were a rarity and this situation hadn’t come up before. Louie sighed. If there was trouble, he’d deal with it. Maybe they could turn his office into an extra bedroom. His hands clenched to fists at his sides. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let Mac room with any of the others. Simon opened his mouth to say something else and closed it again, his face hard and expressionless. He left and Louie closed the door with a moody slam. He didn’t want things to change. He didn’t want Mac to move to another room. She was his pressure valve, releasing the stress that built inside. He sighed again then shook his head with a rueful grin.
When he’d arrived in Fiji, he’d suffered from tension headaches and every noise made him jump. One look at Joanna had changed everything. He’d made his move, cutting off the attentions of a cocky Australian with determination. From that first night they’d been inseparable, sharing a bed every night and every waking moment. It had been bloody hard parting from her, and he’d tried to contact her almost straightaway. He could hardly blame her for giving him false details given the circumstances, not when he’d done the same.
Louie straightened up the room, smoothing the bunk bed and picking up the tattered remnants of her panties. His hand closed around them, squeezing tightly. He couldn’t do it. No way did he intend to let Joanna escape again.
* * * * *
Mac picked up the phone with a trembling hand, her stomach bucking with more terror than she felt facing insurgents on the streets of Iraq.
“Mac McGregor,” she said.
“This is Director Jones-Black. I’m ringing about your father.”
“Have you found him?” Mac broke in impatiently, not willing to wait for the man to get to the point. “Is my father okay?”
“The police have found him and are bringing him back to the home. They’ve assured me he’s all right, but our onsite medical staff will monitor his health on his return.”
Mac’s legs shook so much she sank to the floor. Tears flooded into her eyes and she swiped them away with a touch of impatience. As her father always said, soldiers don’t cry. “What’s the time there in New Zealand?” she asked, unable to make the time calculation with her mind still in turmoil.
“It’s two in the morning.”
“Thanks. I’ll ring later today to check on my father.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. McGregor. We’ll watch him closely so this situation doesn’t happen again.” The stern tone told Mac he meant what he said and didn’t take a missing resident lightly. It reinforced the impression she’d received when she first met him and went a long way to soothing her tension.
“Thanks. I’ll call in a few hours.” Mac replaced the phone and hugged her knees, hiding her face for an instant. Her heart thudded as if she’d run a hundred-meter sprint.
“You okay?”
Mac jerked her head up and swiped the back of her hand over her nose. “Simon.”
Simon crouched beside her, an expression of concern in his brown eyes. He was so close she could see the individual sandy eyelashes and the bristles of his stubble.
“I’m fine.”
Simon looked over his shoulder. Mac followed his gaze and saw several of their teammates watching them. Simon stood and extended his hand to her.
“We can’t talk here. Come to my room. We have time before we go out on recon to prepare for tomorrow.”
Mac accepted his hand and stood. She silently followed, knowing this was about her and Louie. She thought rapidly and admitted the truth. She liked what she and Louie had at the moment—a sort of friends-with-benefits deal. When they were out on recon or looking after a VIP, Louie treated her like one of the others, just what she expected, and she liked it that way. No, she didn’t want a change.
Simon opened the door to his room, stuck his head inside then stood aside for her to enter. He closed the door and turned to face her. “What’s up with you and Louie? Did he fo
rce you to have sex?”
Mac’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “No way,” she said. “Of course not. Louie isn’t like that.”
“Then what’s going on?”
Mac thought rapidly and wondered about going with the truth. It was always the simplest way. “Is this in confidence? You won’t tell anyone?”
“It depends,” Simon said. “If I think it’s going to affect morale or cause problems on a job, I can’t promise not to take this further.”
“Fair enough.” She wouldn’t keep quiet either if she thought emotions would make one of their team screw up. A slow breath eased from her as she considered where to start, how much to tell Simon. A quick look at his tense shoulders and determined face told her not to lie, which left her with a version of the truth. “I met Louie when I was on holiday in Fiji. We hit it off and became…close.” Heat suffused her cheeks and she focused on her clasped hands instead of watching his face. “I didn’t know Louie was here. It was a shock to both of us.”
“So, you didn’t keep in contact?”
“No. It’s hard to maintain any sort of relationship when you’re in the military. I told Louie I was a secretary. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his background either.”
Simon’s mouth twisted. “I see.”
She risked a quick glance at him, her heart knocking against her ribs with sudden alarm. Simon saw more than she was comfortable with, and Mac hoped like hell she had her game face firmly intact. “We’re friends,” she said decisively. “That’s all. The sex helps both of us. It takes off the edge after a stressful day. And that’s all it is—sex. What we do in private is no one’s business but ours, especially since we’re both totally professional in public. We’re both aware we’re part of a team. We want to make it through our contracts in one piece, just the same as you and the others.” This time Mac spoke directly to Simon and didn’t hide. Her voice rang with truth, even if the snarky part of her hidden deep inside sneered from the sidelines and told her she was spouting rubbish. A big fat lie. If it wasn’t for her father, she’d be considering the future and wondering if Louie could play a part in her life.