He hadn’t deserved to be married to Caro and when she’d been sent away, he wouldn’t give me her address; he wouldn’t even give me the fucking time of day. I hated that prick.
I couldn’t stand it any longer and marched over to get her away from him. He saw me, and immediately had the expression of someone who’s just stepped in dog shit. Guess the love-fest was mutual.
Military protocol demanded that I salute a senior officer, even one from another service, so I deliberately shoved my hands in my pockets, which was the alternative to punching the fucker.
He frowned, and I wondered if he was going to report me or try and insist that I salute him—I’d really like to see that. But then he turned back to Caro, ignoring me.
“Good to see you, Caroline. You look lovely tonight. I hope you enjoy the evening.”
He strolled away, greeting a few people as he moved through the room.
“What the fuck were you doing talking to that asshole?” I snapped.
Caro’s furious eyes raked across me.
“What are you doing making it so damned obvious that you care?” she shot back savagely.
What the fuck? She was angry with me?
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” I asked, aware that I sounded like a needy prick.
I’d noticed when I was balls deep in her. Now, I wanted every guy here to know that she was taken—especially her ex-husband.
“I am wearing it,” she said heatedly. “Just not where anyone can see it. But right now I am so furious with you: all you’ve done is make it absolutely necessary for me to go to my ex-husband and beg him not to tell anyone about us. Have you any idea how that makes me feel, Sebastian? Do you? Because he’s the last person I’d want to ask a favor from.”
No fucking way.
“I’ll handle him,” I said quickly. “I’ll…”
“You’ll do nothing,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Absolutely nothing, do you hear me? Now leave me alone: you’ve already attracted enough attention tonight.”
She walked away, leaving me furious and pissed off. I turned on my heel and headed to the bar. Fuck, they weren’t serving alcohol. I’d forgotten. I asked for a soda and stood sipping it, trying to calm the fuck down. I was supposed to be working.
Man up, Hunter, and act like a fucking professional, you clueless prick!
I looked around me casually, then noticed that the contingent of Afghan nationals had arrived, dressed in the traditional salwar kameez, worn with the oval qaraqul hats. The bodyguards stood at the doors, dark sunglasses covering their eyes. Amateurs—you didn’t wear fucking sunglasses indoors at night unless you wanted to look like a Hollywood extra who couldn’t find his dick with a flashlight.
But what really caught my attention was that there were tribal leaders from both sides of the political and religious spectrum, and they were talking to each other. I sidled closer, knowing they’d never guess I could understand them.
I recognized the older guy as Baktash Azimi who was a Sunni leader. The other guy I wasn’t sure, but I thought it might be Gunnar Chalabi, and he was definitely a Shiite.
They weren’t saying anything particularly interesting, talking about the heat, the hotel, and laughing about the food they would have to eat. But the fact they were even in the same room, let alone talking, was interesting enough. I knew the real discussions would take place behind closed doors. I’d give my left nut to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.
Then I glanced across at Caro. Nope, I didn’t want to give up either of my balls, no matter how good the intel might be.
She was talking to a Marine Captain—and I recognized him from his photograph in the file I’d read earlier. A cold feeling washed through me. Shit a brick! Caro was talking to my new boss—which could only mean that she’d be on embed with me. How the fuck would I be able to keep my hands off of her then? And, more importantly, why the hell was she going to one of the most dangerous Provinces in Afghanistan? What fucking brass neck dickwad had okayed that scenario? Who the fuck did her editor know that she’d been sent with us? What part of top fucking secret gave anyone a problem?
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I followed the Afghans to the long table, greeting a few people in English, and looked for my place card. I knew that I was supposed to be near the Afghan end of the table, so I was confused when I couldn’t find my name. I wandered down the long table and finally saw my name and … oh hell.
Natalie Arnaud smiled up at me, her eyes fucking my body in a way that told me she liked what she saw. She was a cold bitch, but hot as hell in bed. We’d had a couple of all-nighters when I was stationed in Paris, but now my dick couldn’t have cared less, and neither could I.
I slid into the chair next to her and her eyes lit up like Christmas.
“Quelle surprise!” she said, licking her lips. “Sergeant Hunter! Bon soir, Sebastian.”
I motioned to the red and gold markings on my shoulder.
“A promotion. Très bon! I like the sound of that! Does that mean you’ll give me orders, sir? You always did like being on top.”
“I’m on duty, Natalie,” I growled at her.
But she just looked amused.
“There’s always time to play later. I’m staying here—room 705,” and then she rested her hand on my thigh.
I tried to remove it subtly, but Natalie’s grin just grew wider.
“Oh, are you a good boy now? Because I remember you liked to be very, very bad.”
“Fuck’s sake!”
I brushed her hand aside. “My CO is here, Nat.”
“So? You never used to care about things like that,” and her bare foot pushed up inside my pants leg, her toes stroking my calf.
I moved my leg away and she laughed.
“It’s not a fucking joke!” I snapped. “And you need to cover up your tits—that shit won’t fly here.”
She leaned forward, giving me an eyeful of her surgically enhanced chest, which I had to admit was pretty impressive, but nothing like my girl’s natural beauty.
I glanced across and saw Caro talking to my boss as well as the scary British woman she’d been with in Geneva. All three of them looked at me at the same time. I was so fucked. Grant looked pissed, the Brit looked amused, and Caro … she looked upset. Shit. And then Natalie chose that moment to reach across my body to touch my Afghanistan Campaign medal and whisper in my ear some of the things she wanted a repeat performance of.
I saw Grant frown, then stand up and walk towards me.
I sprang out of my chair, glad for the reprieve, and snapped a salute.
“Hunter?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Why are you sitting here? You were supposed to be further up on the other side of the table.”
He eyed Natalie coolly.
“Mix up with the place settings, sir.”
“A word, please, Hunter.”
He took me to one side, glancing across at Natalie who looked like someone had told her that Jimmy Choo had gone out of business. Yeah, I’d lived in Paris for two years.
“You think this shit is acceptable, Hunter? Because your old CO doesn’t have anything good to say about you, and your present CO told me you’d be on your best fucking behavior. But all you can think about is getting your dick wet. Un-fucking-acceptable. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“No excuse, sir.”
It was the only answer to give when your commanding officer was on the warpath, no matter how unfair it might be.
“You are jeopardizing the mission, Hunter. You were supposed to pick up additional intel, but instead you’ve become a liability. And you can bet your ass that one more mistake and you’ll be very damn sorry. Be ready for an oh-five-hundred pick up tomorrow. But for now, get the fuck out of my sight.”
I saluted again and left.
That fucking French bitch had a lot to answer for … or maybe it was just a few chickens coming home to roost. It was a fucked up situation—and one
of my own making.
I called my driver and got him to take me to Caro’s hotel. I invited him to have a meal with me; it was the least I could do since I’d cost him his dinner as well as my own.
We talked shit about baseball, a sport we’d both played in high school, and ate some indeterminate meat in a spicy sauce—goat, probably.
I kept an eye open for Caro’s return, taking notice of the other members of the Press Corps who used the Mustafa hotel as their base.
I didn’t see Caro, but the British woman sailed into the bar, scaring a few of the locals. I was glad she was here, because it meant Caro had the room to herself. I gave it five minutes then headed up.
I knocked quietly on the door, and immediately heard hushed voices.
Shit? She had someone in there with her? I hadn’t seen the British woman leave the bar, although it had gotten pretty crowded.
“Yes?”
Yep, the Brit’s voice.
“Ma’am, I’m looking for Lee Venzi?”
There was another muted conversation, then the door swung open and I stepped inside quickly.
Caro stared at me, a small frown on her face.
“Sebastian, you’ve met my friend Liz Ashton.”
“Yes,” I said, nodding stiffly at the disgusted expression on the British woman’s face.
“Hunter,” she replied icily.
Caro rubbed her forehead.
“I’m sorry about this, Liz, but can you give us some time alone?”
The Brit snorted and shook her head, muttering something that sounded like, “bloody fool”.
I wasn’t sure if she meant me or Caro—both, probably.
“Two hours, Lee,” she said, glancing at her watch with zero subtlety. “I’ll be downstairs in the bar if you need me.”
She threw me an accusing look and left.
Caro was clearly mad at me, so my cunning plan was to kiss the hell out of her.
I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard, my tongue in her mouth and my hands pressing into the flesh of her ass. She responded quickly, a surprised gasp huffing out as her hands wrapped around my neck, pressing her body against mine, chasing all thoughts but one from my overheated brain and desperate dick.
Then she pushed me away, her eyes bright with anger and lust, her cheeks flushed.
“What the hell are you doing, Sebastian?”
I shrugged and grinned at her. “I thought I’d kiss you before you yelled at me. Guess it didn’t work.”
“You think this is a joke?” she snapped, her voice rising with anger. “First David, now Liz. Why don’t you just skywrite it?”
I hated hearing that bastard’s name on her lips.
“What did the asshole say to you?”
She sighed. “He’s not going to tell anyone—he was really nice about it.”
He was ‘nice’ to her? What did that fucker want? I didn’t trust him any further than I could throw him.
“Liz won’t say anything to anyone either—I’ll just have to listen to her chewing me out later. But I’d have much rather she didn’t know just now—she’s my work colleague. You’ve got to stop taking these risks, Sebastian. For my sake, if you won’t do it for yourself.”
I grimaced. I hadn’t thought about it like that. Shit, I should have.
“I’m sorry, Caro. I just go a little crazy around you.”
She didn’t look happy.
“Well, you have to get it under control. Now please, please tell me your assignment to Ryan Grant is temporary.”
“Fuck! I was wondering why they’d seated you next to him. Are you embedded with him? Shit!”
Her mouth twisted in a wry grimace.
“Exactly my thoughts. He can’t know, or it’ll really screw things up for both of us—well, mainly for me. Sebastian, you’re going to have to act like you did in Geneva, as if you still dislike me—or at the very least, ignore me. Can you do that?”
Probably not.
“Fuck, Caro,” I sighed. “Yes, I can do it. But I’ll hate every fucking minute of it.”
She gave me a small smile.
“At least if we’re in the same Camp, I’ll know what you’re doing and that you’re safe.”
“Same goes for you. Yeah, there is that. And we might get a chance to … hook up?”
Her eyes darkened, but she shook her head.
“No, too dangerous. You can’t risk it and I definitely can’t risk it. Grant isn’t an idiot.”
“No, he seems on the ball.”
“On the plus side, Grant already thinks you dislike me.”
That was news to me. “Because…?”
“Liz: she mentioned that we’d met in Geneva, and at that stage, she still thought you were an ass. Well, that hasn’t changed, but just a different sort of ass now.”
I felt a reluctant smile pulling my lips upward.
“An ass?”
“Big time.”
I leaned against the door, smiling down at her.
“What happened with your little friend, Natalie?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
I frowned with instant irritation.
“She’s no fucking friend. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and then Grant kicked me out because of her.”
“What did he say to you?”
Yeah, didn’t want to repeat that conversation.
Caro shook her head. “Oh, well, never mind—I can guess. She didn’t look pleased either—I think she was planning to have you for dessert. Was it you who told her to cover up?”
“Yeah, not that it made any difference.”
“She must have listened to someone. At least you tried. And you are very trying, Warrant Officer Hunter. Part of me wants to slap some sense into you…”
“And the other part?” I asked, licking my lips automatically, like some fucking starving dog.
“Well,” she said, running a finger down the front of my uniform, “I was wondering what we could do for the next…” she checked her wristwatch, “…115 minutes?”
One hundred and fifteen minutes: was that all we had? It was never enough. It was just never fucking enough. I closed my eyes, the familiar fear pumping through me. I was losing her again.
“What’s the matter, tesoro?” she asked quietly.
“I really fucking hate this, Caro. We’re always running in different directions, we’re always running out of time. I just want to wake up with you in my arms every day.”
She sighed, her expression sad.
“I know, Sebastian, and I feel the same. But it won’t be like that forever—we will be together. We just have to be patient.” Her warm fingers stroked my cheek, “And for now, we have 113 minutes left.”
My eyes snapped open.
“Fuck!”
Suddenly we were tearing at each other, touching and tasting and fighting to get free of our clothes. So many damn buttons. Fucking uniform!
“Damn it, Caro,” I groaned, as she pressed her bare skin against me.
I backed her toward the bed, my dick pushing against her. She fell onto the hard mattress and then burst into laughter.
“What?”
“The whole pants around the ankles thing—it’s not a great look.”
I grinned as I toed off my shoes. Yeah, probably not my smoothest moves.
“Guess I’d better lose the socks, too.”
“Definitely.”
As Caro stared up at me, I pulled off the rest of my uniform, tossing it to the other side of the room and stood beside the bed, staring down at her, my dick as rigid as a divining rod.
“You like what you see, Caro?”
She nodded, silent now. I tried to get the words out, to explain what this moment with her meant to me.
“After tonight, well, we don’t know when … so I want you to remember me like this … when you look at me—see me like this, wanting you.”
I gripped my dick and stroked myself, letting the insane attraction that I had for this woman, the intense, terri
fying love flood through me.
“And when I look at you, this is what I’ll be thinking about: close your eyes.”
She let her eyelids flutter close, and I sat at the bottom of the bed, gently pulling her legs apart as I kissed up her thighs.
My lips pressed against the damp curls of her pussy.
“This is me telling you that your body is mine.”
I dipped my tongue inside her, tasting and teasing, and she moaned and arched against me.
“This is your body telling me that I am yours.”
I nipped at her clit, and her hands tried to grip onto my short hair, instead pressing the flat of her hands against my head and forcing me deeper inside her.
“This is me saying that we need to be together.”
I stroked inside her with my fingers and she climaxed quickly.
“And that’s your body agreeing with me.
Her hands dug into my shoulders as she gasped, trying to slow her breathing. I sat up, pulling a condom out of my pants pocket and rolling it on quickly, resentful of the time it took me away from her.
Then I moved back onto the bed, my body hovering over hers. Caro’s eyes locked on mine, and she pulled her knees upward, creating a nest for me to settle my hips between her thighs.
I pushed inside her slowly, gritting my teeth with the pleasure that coursed through me, fighting the base urge to fuck her to a standstill.
Caro arched her back, then pulled my face up to hers, kissing me softly.
“And this is me saying that you’ve come home,” she whispered.
Her words brought tears to my eyes. Home: that word had never meant much to me before, but now it meant everything. Caro was my home—wherever she went, that was where I was meant to be. Forever.
The feeling was overwhelming: emotionally, physically, mentally. I answered her with my body, moving faster, moving deeper, taking her again and again, my dick thickening and heating inside her until I couldn’t hold on, coming hard and fast.
I rested on top of her body, my heart racing furiously. But then she pushed on my shoulder gently, and I just had enough presence of mind to realize that I was crushing her. I rolled onto my back, taking her with me so she was resting on my chest, her hair sweeping across my face and neck.