Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Redemption for Misty (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Pierce Securities Book 5) (7 page)

Disappointment radiated from her and she didn’t even try to hide it. “So you’re going to get me all worked up and leave me like this?” she asked, her own voice no more than a whisper. His eyes gleamed wickedly at her in the dark, his hair tousled, and his own clothes disheveled.

“Gives you something to look forward to, doesn’t it?” Motioning to the bulge in his pants, he continued, “Go on. I need to get this under control before I go back out there.”

With a huff, she jumped down from the shelf. “Fine.” Misty couldn’t resist pressing herself against him for one last kiss, though, before she went back outside to be around people, pretending she wasn’t as turned on as she’d ever been.

Thankfully, customer turnover at a coffee shop was quick, so there weren’t a lot of customers still there from when she’d disappeared. Except Mia gave her a knowing smile but didn’t say anything. Yet.

Chapter ten

Chris watched Misty work the rest of the day, her periodic looks directed at him, tempting him mercilessly. He could only assume she was reliving the stolen moments in the store room, as was he. Each time the memory passed over him, he couldn’t wait for more of her. Chris could kiss Misty until he took his dying breath, but the anticipation of more overwhelmed him.

Ghost had been adamant about his warning about Misty’s shop, and Chris wanted to take him seriously. He kept his eyes sharp on the surroundings, but he couldn’t get his mind completely off Misty and that kiss.

Tonight, she would belong to him.

They were riding together now, as it seemed stupid for him to follow her around. Her scent in his car was cool. He saw all the familiarity of his ancient Mustang but with the added benefit of her smell and the occasional ponytail holder she left behind. It just reminded him of her and the fact that tonight was the night. He’d lived with her for nearly a month, impossibly earning her trust, this woman who was stronger than anybody he’d ever known.
She
actually wanted to be with him.

He would make it worth everything to her. She wouldn’t regret it.

They’d been mostly silent on the way home, and when they pulled into her driveway, Chris shut off the engine, turning to her before she could get out of the car.

“Are you nervous about tonight?”

“A little. There are going to be a lot of big-wigs there to network with, and I’m a little scared I’ll come off as just a barista, not a business owner.” Misty looked at her lap, picking at a hangnail.

Chris grabbed her fingers, squeezing them in his hand, more than a little disappointed she wasn’t thinking about being with him. “You’ll do great. How could anybody think otherwise? Besides, it’ll be a stuffy thing and most people will be nervous.” He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them then returning them to his lap, where he stroked her palm. Her hands were a little rough from working and washing dishes all day, but they were softer than his, and he relished the feel of them. They were a strong woman’s hands—rough and smooth at the same time. “But I was asking about after the mixer. Are you nervous about being with me? You’re not talking about it much.”

She blushed, a rarity for her. Sure, she flushed red when she was mad. And he’d discovered she did it when she was horny, but this side of her was one Chris hadn’t seen much of.

“Um… Sure I’m nervous. It’s been a while for me, and… I don’t know what to expect. I wasn’t sure you weren’t talking out of the heat of the moment or something. I mean, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want.”

Chris laughed. He couldn’t help it. She was cute when she was nervous. “That’s my line.” He tucked a stray piece of hair that had come loose from her bun behind her ear. “But yes, to answer your question, I meant every word I said earlier. And I’m looking forward to it.” Chris’s fingers led the way down her neck, touching the smooth column of skin before wrapping themselves around it and pulling her head toward him. He couldn’t kiss her lips, though, or he wouldn’t stop, so he settled for a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Now, let’s go get ready and get this over with.” As she opened her car door, he muttered to himself, “Because I can’t fucking wait.”

***

Misty had been a wreck since the kiss. She was nervous about the Chamber mixer, for the reasons she’d told Chris, but honestly, she hadn’t given it two thoughts since the kiss in the store room. Now, she had sex to worry about, too.

She showered quickly and blew out her hair, trying to tame her unruly locks. She already had an outfit picked out, since she knew she wouldn’t have a lot of time to fret over it after work today, but now with the whole Chris thing, she was second-guessing herself.

She wanted to look nice for him. It had been before Trent since she’d wanted this with a guy. Misty couldn’t lie to herself about that. Her relationship with Trent had been so stale from the start. Misty rarely cared what Trent thought about her appearance. Now there was someone she wanted to please, and a squeal nearly erupted from her throat as she tossed the drab little black dress to the floor and dug around in the closet finding a blue chiffon, tea-length, halter-topped dress that would match Chris’s eyes. Slipping on a pair of black patent-leather heels, she declared herself ready. Misty switched everything over to a small silver clutch, added a stack of business cards, and walked out to the living room.

Chris sat on the couch, waiting for her, and when he stood, her breath caught in her throat. She’d never seen him in dress slacks. Or a jacket. A tie hung loose around his neck. Chagrined, he walked toward her.

“Can you tie this? I feel stupid, like I should just give up my man card or something.” His eyes grazed her from top to bottom. “Especially going out with someone like you.”

She giggled and slipped it from his neck, wrapping it around her own. “Sure, but I can only tie them if I’m wearing them. Hang on a sec.” Making short work of his tie, Misty slipped it off and Chris ducked his head so she could put it over his head. He stared at her while she pulled it taut and straightened it. “How did you make it out of the Army without knowing how to tie a tie?” She smiled at him, trying to diffuse the tension in the room.

“Your brother helped me out. But swear to God, if he comes up again in conversation tonight, I’m just going to shoot myself in the foot.” He looked at her for a laugh, and she complied, even though it sounded weak. “You’re fucking beautiful. I really like this dress.” His hands rested on her hips, his thumbs rubbing over the fabric slowly. Goose bumps rose on her flesh and a shock of heat made her pussy weep. This man would be the death of her.

She gave the tie one final adjustment before patting it into place. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”

Tugging her closer, Chris kissed her and she lost herself. The anticipation she’d felt all day let loose as soon as his lips touched hers. What he’d no doubt intended to be something innocent, she turned into something hungry. And he reciprocated with a low noise in the back of his throat. His hands started tugging as his mouth moved—his tongue sucking and swirling. Misty felt his massive hands creep around her backside, hitching her skirt up. As they explored, she slid her hands under his jacket, feeling the muscles on his back, and then going lower. His ass was hard as a rock, as she’d suspected, and as she squeezed—exploring it—she barely noticed he’d gone under her dress. But when his finger slid around the elastic of her panties, she shivered with anticipation.

With a mix of a triumphant roar and needy growl, he lifted her up and set her body on the credenza behind her. He kissed her neck while his fingers pulled her panties aside and plunged into her wet heat.

“Oh God, Chris!” That was all she could muster as his fingers went to work, his lips branding her. Her mind was a turbulent mess—nothing but rough seas—as his touch brought her higher and higher. His hand gripped the top her dress, moving it aside for his mouth to suckle on her breast.

Chris rolled her nipple around on his tongue as his fingers continued thrusting in and out of her. Misty was helpless to do anything. She wanted to touch him, but he was wearing too many clothes, so she just grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled.

He was a man on a singular mission. Chris’s movements were frantic as his mouth and fingers brought her the pleasure she craved.

When his thumb circled her clit, Misty shattered. She’d ridden the waves of the tempestuous sea, and as the waves broke, she trembled her release with quaking shudders.

Chris raised his head, his cheeks marked with deep red slashes of color and a goofy grin on his lips as he brought his hand to his mouth and cleaned her essence off his fingers before straightening her dress.

She attempted to smooth down his hair with a sheepish sound.

He stood erect and smoothed his jacket before holding out his elbow to her. “Just a little something to take the edge off. You ready?”

She could hardly speak, but she tried anyway. “But… Wh-what about you?” The bulge straining the front of his pants looked painful.

He shrugged. “It’ll go away. I’m not nervous about the mixer. You were the one who needed that.” His smirk showed off the dimples, and holy hell, it took her breath away. Not that she’d recovered.

On shaky legs, Misty managed to follow Chris out of the house. She wasn’t about to tell him it wasn’t the mixer she was nervous about.

Chapter eleven

“Jesus Christ, there’re like, five hundred people here,” Misty muttered under her breath when they walked into the ballroom of the Civic Center. Her hand tightened in Chris’s and she welcomed his grip as he squeezed back.

“You got this, girl.” He winked down his shoulder at her, and then said, “You want to go get a glass of boxed wine?” He jerked his chin over to the bar, a good-natured smirk firmly planted on his face.

She sighed. “Sure.” In spite of Chris’s efforts, her nerves were once again rattled just seeing all the people there she was supposed to speak with. Squaring her shoulders, Misty raised her chin in a false gesture of confidence and took his elbow as he led the way through the crowd to the bar.

Craning her neck, desperately seeking a familiar face, Misty watched the crowds mingle. This was supposed to be a mixer? There were so many people here, it was overwhelming. Surely these weren’t
all
small business owners in Austin? If so, she had a lot of competition. Sure, they probably didn’t all own coffee shops, but still…

She and Chris got glasses of wine and walked over to support a wall and get their bearings. All the people were just too much to deal with right away. A couple next to her were talking about some emergency senate session the governor was calling, and Misty absently wondered if that would bring her business. She hoped so but couldn’t be certain.

“Did you bring lots of business cards?” Chris asked in her ear.

She nodded. “Yes, I did. But I don’t know who to give them to. I can’t just walk up to a random stranger and start talking.” Opening her clutch, she pulled out the stack of cards. “I told myself I wouldn’t leave until I’d passed them all out.” She frowned at the offending cards, tempted to toss them in the air and make it rain before making a break for it.

Grabbing the stack of cards in one hand, and Misty’s elbow with the other, Chris said, “Well, then, let’s get to gabbing.”

Chris broke the ice for her. “We’ll make it a game. You can’t give your card to people wearing the same color dress or tie unless they ask for it. We’ll start with red. Find someone in red.”

“Okay.” She looked around the room, finding several red dresses. One was on a woman who looked just as misplaced as Misty felt, so she pointed her out. “Her.” Together, they made their way to the woman, who looked relieved to find someone to talk to.

They made their way around the room, talking to various people about her coffee shop, as well as their businesses. She found out way more about the local politics than she wanted to. As a shop owner right next to the capitol building, Misty made it a point not to get involved in politics. She just found things easier that way. But with the upcoming emergency senate session, everyone was discussing it, especially the planned protests involving the refugee crisis and increased security measures that were in place.

“I heard Delta Forces were here. I didn’t even know they did things on our own soil,” one woman remarked.

Her husband replied, “Nobody really knows what the Delta Forces do. They’re probably monitoring this event. I bet they’ve got mics hidden under the tablecloths.”

Misty couldn’t tell if the man was serious or not but didn’t question him further. Instead, she politely excused herself and turned, running into a man who looked vaguely familiar.

“Ms. Walker? I’ve been looking for you. I was wondering if you’d make it tonight.” He held out his hand, a broad smile on his face. “Bert Starr, the Chamber Board for Relations.”

“That’s right! I remember. I’m sorry. There are so many people here, names are starting to muddle together,” Misty explained her total blank-out of the man’s name.

“I wanted to ask you if you or your business partner would be interested in our charity auction next spring? We auction off eligible bachelors and bachelorettes for local charities.”

“Um…” Her mind raced through possible excuses. She didn’t want to do that at all. She wasn’t even sure she would go. “I can tell you for sure my partner wouldn’t be interested, as she’s not eligible,” she rushed to explain, still trying to think of an excuse for herself.