Mountain Man SEAL Page 9

  “Thank you.” He mutters, way back in his throat.

  Blaze picks up the gun, holsters it in the back of his jeans then takes my hand and leads me to his truck.

  He puts the key in the door of the passenger side but before opening it for me, his thick fingers thread into my hair to scoop up the back of my head. His head tips down and his lips find mine.

  I seize him with a passion even stronger than I took me over this morning.

  “I want you right now. Here and now.” I murmur into his firm lips.

  “Insatiable.”

  “Addict.” I correct.

  “Ex-addict.” He corrects me.

  “Unless it’s addiction to you.”

  15

  Whitney

  He lifts me, springing weightlessly, into the cab seat and heads around to the driver’s side before asking for the address of my apartment.

  “This truck seems to have mislaid its GPS, you’ll have to give me directions.”

  “I guess it’s not like the high tech equipment you’re used to working with.” She says.

  “Hmmm.”

  He gives a hand signal out the open window, like a military move out sign and Tank kicks his Bat-bike into action. Seems like I’m going to have a pair of SEALs in my little townhouse. I hope those buff bodies will both fit.

  Blaze shakes his head with an ironic smile when we pull into my complex less than a mile down the street.

  “I must have driven by this place a hundred times today looking for you.”

  “You’ve been looking for me all day?” I’m amazed he didn’t give me up as a bad job.

  “Of course. You think I’d have let a woman like you go without you telling me to my face that’s what you wanted.” He considers for a moment then grins. “Although I guess you’ve made it clear, your feelings towards me.”

  “I reserve the right to have a change of heart.”

  His eyes dart to my face, eagerly hopeful.

  “Have you?” He asks.

  I nod, smiling shyly.

  “And thank you for saving me from an ugly future.” I add.

  “That’s the reason?” He asks. “You’re grateful.”

  “I am very grateful but no that’s not the reason.”

  His eyes come back off the road to scan my face again, so I continue to reassure him.

  “Even though it’s fast and you’ve changed character quite a lot in that short time. I want to give us a chance.” I admit.

  His heavy hand gives mine a perfect squeeze. His gaze promises a lot more.

  He parks the truck and leaps out to come around to my side and help me down from the cab. I slide down his body, with a seductive look, feeling every inch of his hardness, until our mouths meet.

  The kiss starts off intense and only ramps up in heat until we’re groping and tugging at each other with a hunger that might almost eclipse the one that ravaged us this morning. His body cages me against the side of the truck and I reach for his steel, longing to feel the spectacular solid width.

  “I could take you right here but your neighbors might get twitchy.” He rasps.

  “Not only my neighbors.” I laugh and shift my palm sneakily to his hip, as Tank walks up to join us.

  “Am I going to be subjected to being an accomplice to further romantic interludes?” He asks. “Maybe I should just take off.”

  “No!” Blaze barks, like an order. I’m startled but Tank just grins. “It’s too late to take the mountain track, even on that thing.” He nods toward the Bat-bike parked close by.

  “That’s an amazing motorbike.” I say. “I’ve never seen one that color or style, or at all.”

  “The Dark Horse.” Tank says, looking at the machine lovingly.

  “That’s its name?”

  “Yeah that’s what Indian, the manufacturer named it. It seemed perfect for me so I bought it.”

  I laugh and thread my arm though Blaze’s, then Tank’s too, to lead them to my condo. It occurs to me that maybe these guys share a lot more than a shack. They could be so close knit that having one woman between the two of them is their kind of normal.

  Heat rushes at my cheeks and I’m glad it’s dark enough that they don’t notice. Heat is also percolating between my thighs, not that I’m eager for anything like that to happen. Blaze is more than enough man for any woman to handle. But a girl can enjoy a naughty secret fantasy.

  “I was thinking.” Blaze says, almost shyly. “If you hate my house so much, we could always stay together at yours. If you want that.”

  “You would do that?” I say, turning the key in the lock. “Because actually I could get into living up there away from humanity for a ….”

  I push open the door and a cry escapes my mouth.

  “I should go back there and give that bastard what he deserves.” Tank growls.

  Every single stick of furniture and all my belongings are not only overturned but shredded. My clothes, make up, books are all destroyed. Every closet emptied, even the kitchen wrecked. I guess my security deposit is a goner.

  “It looks like a bomb detonated in here.” I whine.

  Then I see Blaze’s expression as his eyes land on Tank’s and want to slap myself. How could I bring up the reminder of stuff they went through? This damage nothing compared to that. However it does leave me in a lousy situation.

  “It’s just stuff babe.” Blaze takes my hand. “We can get you more of what’s important. What’s really important is that we have each other.”

  “Well your place is starting to look like a palace compared to this.” I try to make light of things.

  The walls are filthy, as though they’ve had buckets of swamp water thrown at them. I try to be jovial but I’m shattered. I feel invaded. Blaze senses this and wraps me under his wide wingspan to clasp me into his side, a place I know I’m safe.

  “Mind if I use the head?” Tank asks and I indicate the bathroom.

  “I hope it’s not trashed.” I call.

  “Seen worse.” He gruffs.

  As soon as he closes the door, I tip my face up and meet Blaze’s mouth coming down over mine. His lips crush into me and his tongue roams around my mouth, exploring into every crevice. The kiss deepens as we press our bodies together, lining each other, wanting total connection.

  Desperately.

  “Whitney I need you.” He moans against my lips, licking and nipping at me as his hands go under my tee and find the perked flesh.

  “I need you too.” I whimper. “My bed is kinda trashed though.”

  “I don’t need a bed.” He says, as he backward walks me to the wall, hooking his fingers into the band of my leggings as we go.

  It’s been twelve hours give or take but I’ve missed his touch and his breadth inside me more than I missed that feeling the entire months I’ve gone without in rehab and since.

  His biceps cage me against the wall then the toilet flushes and Tank emerges.

  “Glad to see you’re making out….in spite of the difficulties.” He says.

  I reel myself back in but Blaze doesn’t startle at all. I think he’d keep going and again I wonder how much these guys share with one another. I guess they know each so well, a little intimate relations isn’t going to faze them.

  “I gotta get something from the bike.” Tank says and heads for the door.

  “Okay Buddy.” Blaze grins down at me, and continues right where he left off.

  He yanks the fabric down with my underwear together and slides his fingers across my swollen lips.

  “We have to be quick.” I tug at his zipper, which is stalled because of the hard bulge forcing against the teeth. I tear at it hungrily and and free his massive band of iron. I’m not so much worried abut Tank coming back and discovering us as I am about my urgent need for Blaze deep within me.

  “You’re so ready for me.” He rasps.

  “I think I’m always going to be ready for you. You seem to have that effect on me.” I pant.

  His thrus
t makes me palm the wall with one hand and grip his shoulder with the other, already feeling the rising shudder of imminent release batter at my core.

  With my thighs wrapping him, Blaze walked me to the bedroom and lowered me onto a pile of pillows on the floor. We must have both passed out instantly from the many exertions of the day. Waking up with Blaze’s bicep as a cushion takes away the pain of the destruction all around.

  “Good mornin’ Babe.” He says without moving a muscle.

  I need coffee, an addiction that replaces all others. I pull Blaze’s tee shirt on since it covers more of me up but he resists, saying; “You don’t need that, babe.”

  I draw the line at walking around barebutt in front of the buddies. I might have to lay down some boundaries about this odd threesome kind of living arrangement we’re about to get into.

  I head for the washroom and think how we have almost nothing in physical possessions, but it seems we couldn’t be more content even if we had a billionaire lifestyle. Blaze was right - all we need is each other.

  Luckily the coffee machine is intact although the glass jug is part of the debris strewn around the floor. I notice that Tank isn’t part of it however.

  “Babe, Tank isn’t here.” I call.

  I hold my stainless steel travel mug under the coffee. Luckily that was indestructible. There’s going to be a lot of making do in my future.

  Blaze comes up behind me and wraps his hands around my pelvis, lining his solid torso to my back as he nuzzles the side of my neck.

  “If you insist on being a kitchen goddess wearing only my tee shirt, I’m never going to be able to keep my hands off you.”

  “I’m glad you like me naked because every last stitch I own is trashed beyond repair.”

  Blaze smirks like he has a secret and ducks out the door.

  “Did you hear what I said about Tank?” I shout after him but I guess he doesn’t hear me. For a moment I wonder whether he’s had enough and is dumping me for being too much hassle. Then he comes back carrying a shopping bag and hands it over.

  “It’s not much and god knows I’m not the man for shopping for ladieswear but I hope you like it.”

  “Oh, it’s sooo cute.” I squeal as I lift out the soft cotton garment.

  It’s a dress with a slightly vintage feel, covered with sunflowers. A light cardigan for the early morning mountain chill and even a pair of sandals with high wedges.

  “You have some great taste in ladies’ wear.” I tell him.

  “And even better taste in ladies it seems.”

  “Tank isn’t here.” I tell him.

  “The Dark Horse rides again.” He says, somewhat nonchalant.

  “You think he went back up the mountain?” I hope he didn’t put his threat into practice and go looking for Jarke at sun-up.

  “Dark horse is not only the brand name of that insane bike.” He says, making my eyebrow quirk in curiosity. “It’s code for I’m outta here.”

  “But where? Just like that in the middle of the night?”

  “Yeah.” Blaze takes a slug of the coffee we’re sharing. “Tank style. The way he also leaves.”

  “But isn’t the shack, I mean the house, isn’t it his?”

  “Yeah it is but I’ve been there since we debriefed. Tank comes and goes like he always does. This time he insisted he wasn’t leaving until he saw me settled with the right woman.”

  “So he’s given us his blessing?” I whisper.

  “Looks like.”

  He envelops me again and I put the coffee cup down quickly. Then I surrender and happily let him pull me down to the floor, straddled on top of him.

  Epilogue

  Four, or was it five? hours later - Blaze

  We had a hard time that day, leaving Whitney’s wrecked townhouse. Going outside meant separating our bodies from their heavily magnetized state.

  We tried to get up and make coffee together. Our joint effort was interrupted not once, but twice, because every time our eyes lit on the other, it was game over.

  The intense desire to be deeply connected brought our mouths crashing back together, hands everywhere at once, squeezing, grasping. We needed the oneness that only a man and woman can savor. My near-constantly solid length craved and needed to be buried inside her up to the root. Whitney needed that too. For both of us the joining was more vital than eating, sleeping or loading caffeine.

  Finally the caffeine won out. We showered together, still unwilling to be separated and while she dressed herself up for the outside world, I made a drastic personal change.

  When I finished and looked in the mirror, it was a massive shock. Me but also not me. But then I knew I was back, freed from the mental prison I’d locked myself up in. I emerged from the bathroom, in trepidation of what Whitney’s reaction would be. I stood in the doorway, admiring her in the outfit I got her while she made coffee. Holding her thermos go-mug, the only unbreakable container, under the flow coming through the filter.

  I could not believe how lucky I got. She was stunning in every way. Then she looked up and jumped half out of her skin.

  “Blaze.” She gasped.

  “Yep. Still me.”

  “You look so different. So…” A filthy smile spread over her face. “…. damned hot.” She started taking slow steps toward me.

  “Not so much of a hillbilly?”

  “Not even close.”

  She ran her palms over my newly-shaved jaw and up over my equally bared skull. All the dreadlocks lying on the bathroom floor.

  “It’s so sexy.” She murmured. “You’re so sexy. I can hardly breathe.” Then her little hands pulled on the back of my shaved head to pull my mouth down on hers. I guess she likes the new look. In moments I’d gotten her out of her new clothes and straddling me on the floor.

  Eventually we managed to untangle from each other and get out of that wrecked townhouse.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked as I led her to the door.

  She looked at me wide-eyed, avoided glancing back over her shoulder at the carnage of her domestic existence, and nodded.

  “This never felt like the right place for my new beginning anyway.” She said and her small palms flattened against my chest. “I’m ready for a new start to match the new me I discovered in rehab.”

  My back muscles bristled at the thought of what that ass jerk did to her, getting her hooked so as to use her services like a mule. I’m so proud of her for getting her act together. That takes some strength of character.

  I’m glad I did one good thing out there in the Middle East, setting fire to poppy fields and burning up the raw material before it could be made into something more deadly. But I’m not naive enough to believe there isn’t plenty more of that stuff here at home.

  But I’ve learned that suffering has a purpose in bringing a person to their next step. Pain can open up a new world, getting through it brings a kind of catharsis. And peace. It seemed that the jerk ex was instrumental in bringing Whitney and I together.

  She might never have come out west, she might never have realized that she missed me and that I wasn’t the one she hated. None of it would ever have happened without the jerk’s arrival in town, come looking for her.

  “What a mess.” Whitney said, meaning the house and the past.

  I’d pulled out my billfold and left money on the countertop, so the landlord wouldn’t be out of pocket.

  “My Dad paid the security deposit.” She tried to stop me.

  “Didn’t I tell you that I look after mine, without outside help?”

  I pulled the door shut on that life and led Whitney to the truck. We stopped at the diner on the way out of town and the waitress gave me big smile, plus a lesser welcome to Whitney.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday.” She said. “That man was…um..”

  “A devil.” The waitress finished Whitney’s sentence and patted her hand. “I know the type well unfortunately. But it seems like you landed on your feet all right.” She flashed me
a flutter. “What’ll I get you folks?”

  “Let’s get the biggest breakfast you’ve got on the menu.” I told her. “The works. And coffee soon as.”

  “On its way.” She called, already heading for the cups.

  We ate like we hadn’t eaten in months. The entire time we looked up at each other from our plates and a huge grin broke over both our faces. We were excited to get started on the next chapter and see where it took us.

  “I haven’t had an adventure like this in… well ever, actually.” Whitney said.

  “Me either.” I said and though she looked at me dubiously, I meant it one hundred per cent. This was not only new territory but also something I wasn’t trained for. “I’ve never been in love before.” I admitted. “It kinda freaks me out.”

  “Me either and me too.” She said. She bit the edge of her lip and I realized I maybe shouldn’t have let the L word slip so soon. She continued talking so I hadn’t totally freaked her; “It’s going to be great. I just feel it in my bones.”

  “Come on, let me get you home.” I indicated for the check to our friendly waitress. “I need to feel me some of those bones of yours for myself.”

  I noticed Whitney’s eyes glue on the large tip I left and once we were on the road, she broached the subject.

  “Should we be a little careful, you know, about money?” She said. “I mean neither of us has a job and does brewing liquor earn enough for….?”

  “That’s Tank’s still. I just helped him out.”

  “I’m sure that my dad can help out a bit, with money I mean, not bootlegging. Until we get started.”

  That had my back bristling.

  “Babe, we’ve got more than enough dollar.” I told her. “And I’ve told you, I take care of mine. I don’t need help.”

  “Okay. Sorry.” She murmured.

  I had to put her mind at rest that we literally had more than enough. But there was no way of telling her the truth of it. The lives of the five that came back didn’t entirely belong to us, any more than they had when we went out on the black ops mission. We’re free to live our lives as we want now, and we get very well paid for them, but we aren’t free to talk about it. Not with anyone.