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Something about that sassy, too innocent mouth turns my crank infinitely harder than the random pretty young beach girl.
Maybe I’m just sick in the head like that.
Hard for the good girl begging for the right man to pull the sin right out of her.
Or maybe it’s just Delia’s perfect palm-sized tits, the way her hot little pussy came undone on my hand.
Remembering how hard I brought her off makes me kick sand as I walk, pissed that I’ve got a whole sleepless night ahead of me before I get to find out what she’s like when she comes for the third time in an hour.
The way she tried to keep up dancing and her awkward little laughs weren’t bad either.
I’m not sure what to make of her, and that’s part of the fun.
She didn’t kiss like a rich, pretentious little girl enjoying her latest hookup.
At first, I thought she was giving me a story about her sexless streak. She had to be exaggerating about that ’dry spell’ after a few drinks.
Then my mouth claimed hers, and I almost stumbled away with scorch marks.
No mistaking what I tasted. That’s a woman who’s beendeprived,her passion telling a thousand truths.
Chemistry?
Fuck, we had an entire lab.
And I know I’m boned when I finally toss my diving gear in the back of my truck and I’m still obsessing over every naughty, nervous, and delectable smile hanging off her face.
I head back to my rental, this cozy new townhouse unit graciously funded by the company. Working for a premier firm like Enguard Security on their new mobile tactical team has its benefits, and not having to pay California housing costs is one of them.
I’ve kept the place deliberately spartan, even if I only started living there a couple months ago. Old habits from my SEAL days die hard.
Still, tonight the walls feel tighter, more claustrophobic after I arrive home. Even the default grey-and-white décor feels like it’s too much, especially this painting of an old church shaped like a castle overlooking an island sunset.
I snap my eyes away from it, drawing a harsh breath as I rake a hand through my hair. I can’t let something so mundane bring me backthere.
If only my brain gave a shit what I want.
That raid last month in the Virgins punches me in the soul.
The mansion bathed in shadows.
The exploding gunfire.
The panicked screams.
Thechildren.
Goddamn, just thinking about that sadistic rich fuck we pulled out of his panic room with a bleeding hole in his leg makes me want to beat holes in the nice slate-grey wall with my fists. Jordan Warzach stumbled around like he was drunk and sleepy, as if keeping girls incagesis as normal as owning a damn dog kennel.
I should have fucking killed him.
If I weren’t under orders and attached to the rest of the team, executing a glorified bounty hunter mission, I would have.
And that other man from the cartel with the dark, soulless eyes with the snakes on his boots. He was smiling and staring me dead in the eye when he sunk his knife into that girl’s throat, forcing me to choose.
I picked saving her life over pursuing that kingpin puke, pulling her into my arms and keeping pressure on her wound until the medics arrived.
It worked. She’s alive and recovered.
