Sunrise For Three: A Military Erotic Romance (Sexy Siesta Series Book 3) (13 page)

“Sí.”
She stretched her legs for good measure.

“You can lean on me.” Marc snaked his arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. She peered up at him, then at Colt.  Solid rock gave more away than their stone cold expressions. She was glad their wrath wasn’t aimed her way. In contrast to their softer sides, her warriors were in full Marine mode. She liked it. Liked both sides, but today she needed their training. There was no doubt they’d get her through this hell alive. And they looked pissed enough to take out an entire army.

She almost felt sorry for the bad dudes on the receiving end. Almost.

“Stay in step. Stay low. ”

“You take lead. We’re going to get you into the pantry.” Normally she’d argue about being shoved into a closet, but with her injury, she’d slow them down and that could get them killed.

Her legs shook at first, but with the help of Marc she finally made it to her feet. She nodded once. “
Lista.
”

Marc took one step before all hell broke loose. A curtain of bullets rained down on them. Rounds hummed through the air and landed with a multitude of pings that bounced off her eardrums. Chunks of cement burst from the high velocity impact. Cotton fluff erupted into the air. Wood splintered under the torturous beating of gunfire.

“We’re out of fucking time. Cover her!”

But that was all she saw before a shield of male muscle tackled her to the floor.

Marc’s handgun resounded next to her ear. Her heart lodged so deep in her throat she gasped for every breath. Her shoulder cried out in pain and she couldn’t move for the weight of Marc on top of her.

“Let’s move,” Marc shouted next to her face and she hauled ass to where Colt held his hand out to her. He pulled her through the kitchen entrance, taking cover behind the island in the center of the floor. “Stay low. I’ll be right back. Take this.”

Colt pressed his 9mm into her palm. She slipped the clip loose and checked how many rounds she had then slid it back into place, sliding a round into the chamber. ¿
Tres?
Only three? God, she hoped they had more ammo. From the sound of it, there was a small army of those Uzi-toting
cabrones
out there. “
Bien
.” She nodded and crouched, her shoulder pain off her radar. Thank God for adrenaline rushes!

Five rounds fired from inside the house. Then stopped.

“We only want
la señorita
. Give her over and then we leave. You have our word, amigos.”

She stiffened against the wood paneling of the kitchen island. Neither Colt nor Marc answered. She trusted they knew what they were doing.

Shadows moved over the far wall. She followed their projection to the door that led to the side of the house. ¡
Demonios!
. She pushed up and launched herself at the door just as the handle started to turn. With deft fingers she slipped the bolt home, then sagged against the wooden frame.

Shards of glass broke over her, the stained glass panes at the top half of the door busted by a beefy fist. She fell forward. “Guys. Get the fuck in here, like right fucking now!” Hysteria skidded along the fringes of her words, which was just fine because any minute she was going to go bat-shit crazy. She didn’t do combat. Guns,
está
bien
, but
hombres
and hand to hand?
No, gracias
. That was so far out of her league she’d end up dead before landing even a single punch.

A sensation niggled the base of her spine.

She looked over her shoulder, but saw no one coming.  Sausage fingers reached in and fumbled with the lock. She aimed.

Metal grated against metal and she watched the small handle to the deadbolt turn counter-clockwise. She fired. A furry of Spanish burned her ears, and she knew her aim was dead on.

She backed to the side and stood rigid in the space between the door and the back wall. Wood splintered and broke off.  She threw her good arm up, but not in time to block all the debris from nicking her face and neck. Adrenaline pumping through her veins blocked all the pain, the wet stickiness of her blood the only sign she was injured.

She threw her eyes open. Three feet in front of her stood a very heavily armed, pissed off Mexican.
Ahí Chihuahua. Dios sálvame
.

Raw anger rooted deep in her stomach. Fire boiled in her and this time it wasn’t out of fear. This needed to end.

Mia leveled the muzzle of her gun through the cracked wood of the door, took a deep breath and fired off two more rounds.

Blood blossomed out from where her rounds buried in the thug’s left shoulder. He dropped to his knees but didn’t go down. She took aim again, only this time she moved out from behind the door. Several shots fired off in the distance, but she couldn’t focus on that right now.

Her attention zeroed in on her immediate threat.

She sidestepped the broken wood on the floor, her gun leveled at the man in front of her. With a wide berth she eased in front of him. “
Mirame, carbon
.”She planted her feet, ready. “I said, look at me, asshole!”

Her raw words brought his face up, and their gazes locked. He wore a sneer, but it didn’t intimidate her. So much hatred. She’d never met the man, but the hatred she saw in the depths of his black, soulless eyes chilled her to the bone.

“We just want you,
puta
.” His words dripped acid and a small part of her didn’t care that she’d just wounded another human being. Labored breathing tore from the thug’s chest, but she wasn’t fooled. He could overpower her even with three bullet holes in him.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. And there’s no way you’re leaving here alive.” She pulled the trigger, aimed right at his heart.

Nothing happened.
¡Demonios!.

The thug lunged for her, his weight and size crashing her into the unforgiving floor. Her head smacked against the tiles with a resounding thud that sent shockwaves of pain up and down her body. She gritted against it and the need to shut her eyes.

“
Vamonos, puta
.” The slimy
bastardo
licked a trail up the side of her face. He reared up on his haunches and landed a backhand across her cheek. Black specks fogged her vision. Her fingers fumbled for anything…something she could use to protect herself. The tips of her fingers brushed against wood. A fierce scream filled the room. Fire stabbed at her shoulder.

“I like giving pain,
puta
. Maybe I’ll use you a little before we return you back to
El Jefe
.” The thug stabbed his finger deeper into her bullet wound, ripping another scream from her throat. He slapped his other hand down on her breasts and squeezed, his nails pinching into the soft flesh of her breasts.

She gnashed her teeth, brought her foot up and moved the piece of wood just out of her reach closer. She wrapped her fingers around the weapon and struck out.

“
Puta madre
.” The thug bent over her, his face an inch from hers. A stench of copper filled the air. Warm liquid dripped down his back and onto the hand that gripped the piece of wood she’d stabbed him with. Using the last of her strength she shoved out from beneath him and slowly dragged herself to her feet, taking the largest of the wood fragments with her.

Single armed, she reared back and landed the best Roberto Clemente swing she had in her. The man face-planted on the floor, but she didn’t stick around to see if her handiwork would keep him down for the count.

She edged close to the door Colt had exited. Leaning against the doorjamb for support, she took in her surroundings. The gunfire had died off outside. Hopefully that was a good thing.

Colt spoke from behind her. “Son of a bitch.” Startled, she whirled to see Colt kneeled over the thug who still hadn’t moved. “Dead.”

“I sure the hell wouldn’t want to piss you off.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

She raked her gaze over him and her mouth grew dry. Blood splattered across his shirt and jeans. Another rush of adrenaline spiked through her and she stumbled over to him.

“Oh, sweetheart, we’d never hurt you.”

“Ever.” Marc’s gaze nailed her to the floor where she stood.

Okay, understood.

“Be careful, I won’t make the same promise. You leave me like that again and you’ll find out just how damn good of a shot I really am.”

Both men nailed her with a serious look. “Copy that.”

“I see this guy had nothing on you for damn sure.”

“It was either me or him. I did what I had to do.” Tears rimmed her eyes and she blinked them back. Her legs grew shaky and her heart was doing a funny
cha cha cha
in her chest. Cold chills washed over. She was getting really tired of being so weak.

“Sit down, darling, your adrenaline rush is tanking.” Marc gathered her in his arms and ushered her to a dining room chair. He bundled her hair and moved it over the side of her shoulder so he could look at her wound.

She hissed when Marc peeled back the makeshift bandage he’d used on her earlier.

“I know. Just a quick look. EMTs are on their way.” She took stock of Marc and saw he had the same amount of blood covering his clothes. Her men were a force all their own.

Her gaze roamed over to where Colt stood to her right.

“You did what you had to do, sweetheart. Don’t let it bother you. He came here today with intent to kill you.”

“Or worse, take me back to someone he called
El Jefe
.” Marc stopped his fussing over her bandage and raised his eyes to look at her. “I don’t know who he was talking about, but someone is still out there that wants me.”

“You’re right, but not for long. Not if I can help it.” A tall man with wide shoulders and a wild shock of jet-black hair strolled through the busted kitchen door, his fingers wrapped around a USMC issued M-45A1 as if it was an extension of his hand. He wore a black T-shirt like a second skin, the ends tucked into military fatigues. Fierce cobalt blue eyes raked over her then the body on the floor.

“Your work?” He nodded toward the dead body.

“Sí.”
What else could she say?

“Better him than you.” He gave her a single nod then turned to Colt. “I have a location on the man behind the chaos here today. The CO is pulling me and five others off mission to refocus on this threat. News is the guy known as
El Jefe
is planning shit that makes Bougainvillea’s crimes look like nothing more than child’s play and plans on taking his game to the big leagues while Bougainvillea is out for the count.”

“If we can be of any help, pick up a phone. Listen, we appreciate the backup, Joel. If you hadn’t dropped by to say hi when you did…”
Ahhh…so this was Joel.
She’d never gotten a good look at him when he’d picked them up last night. Marc let his words trail off, but his meaning hung in the air between them.

“Lucky for you I was in the neighborhood.” Joel threw her a wink, then turned on his heel, ringing phone in hand. “Cordona speaking.” And just like that he was out the door and gone.

“What the hell was that?”She stared after him.

“Ten years serving with the guy and I still can’t answer that question. He’s a big fucking mystery when it comes to personal things and is like a ghost when he doesn’t want to be found. We call him a friend.”

“And one hell of a sniper,” Colt added.

“What happened out there?”

Colt’s jaw tensed. “After I left you here I went to help Marc. All hell broke loose and we found ourselves in a bit of a Mexican standoff with Marc’s 9mm and my .38 special on our side, six highly armed and pissed off Bougainvillea thugs and only one exit strategy.”

“Yeah, don’t get killed.”

“It worked. We took out four hostiles when Joel dropped in.”

“
Señor, estamos listos para la señorita
.”

Colt cocked an eyebrow at the emergency paramedic. Mia moved to stand but Marc placed a hand on her shoulder. “Allow me.” He bent, placed a hand beneath her legs and around her back then lifted.

“You know I can walk. It’s a shoulder wound not a leg wound.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to. That’s what we’re here for.”

“You spoil me and I won’t want to leave.”

“Promise?”

Epilogue

Mia planted her good hand behind her and pushed. If she had to stay another day in bed, she would not be held accountable for the amount of crazy lady she would unleash on two very unsuspecting, stubborn men.

A small part of her loved all the attention, especially the sponge baths, but enough was enough. It had been three days since the shootout south of the Mexican border and she had work to do. She had to admit one thing though. There was a definite upside to the extra time to work through the knotted mess of thoughts on what had gone down in Mexico.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Flustered, she huffed out a breath and settled against the pillow Colt had put behind her thirty minutes before.

“Nowhere, I guess.”

“Our patient trying to flee again?”

“I think we need to tie her down if we mean to keep her still for much longer.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, Marc.”

“Ummm…bum arm here. Not to mention some odd bruising along my neck and chest.” Mia pointed to her face then her wrapped and cradled arm.

“Ahhh…now you notice and realize why you’re still our prisoner.”

“
Pues, claro
. Sure, I notice it—the pain is ever present.”

“Do you need more meds, sweetheart?” The bed dipped from the weight of Colt settling on one side and Marc on the other. The smell of freshly bathed men filled her nostrils and it was all she could do to not close her eyes and turn into putty. And they knew it, judging by the matching smirks that played at the corners of their lips.

“You can’t keep me here forever.” She tried for her stubborn face but they didn’t bite.

“If we had it our way, that’s exactly where you’d be. In our bed forever.”

“In our lives, in our hearts and in our home,” Marc added with a tender look in his eyes.

Wait. ¿
Que
? What did they say? She turned to Marc and held his gaze. “Marc, just a few days ago you didn’t even know if you wanted me. And now you’re saying you want me to move in?” She turned to Colt, searching for some clue to how he felt about Marc’s statement.

“If you need to hear it, sweetheart, I’ll say it. We want you right where you’re at.”

“Between Dangere and Dessire.” A smiled lifted the edges of her lips and both men returned the sentiment. What just a few days would do to a
chica’s
life. Less than a week ago she had nothing but an empty house in the country and her student loans. Now she had two men who wanted her and a real chance at happiness.

“Are you asking me to move in because I’m homeless?”

“Not a chance, darling.”

“Nope.”

She nodded.

“But that little fact does help our case some.” Marc arched an arrogant brow and Colt winked at her. Oh the nerve. She slapped at Marc’s chest and received a sharp pain in her shoulder for the effort. “Sssss….
por dios
.”

“Here, let me make it better.” Marc peppered feather-light kisses up her bandaged arm, then ever so tenderly placed a kiss beside where the bullet had torn through her flesh.

He pulled back, all playing gone from his expression. “Mia, I don’t want you to leave and Colt feels the same way. Let us be your family. Let this house be your home. Our home. I know it’s fast and I don’t blame you if you want to leave, but give us the chance. Hell, we’d marry you right here right now if you’d say yes.”

“He’s right. We can’t keep our feelings for you locked away anymore, sweetheart. This is something we’ve wanted since the day you walked into our office with the cutest smile and the worst résumé we’ve ever read.”

Mia cringed. They had her there, but how intriguing they wanted her from day one. The feeling was mutual.

She cleared her throat. “You know, I guess in a way this whole screwed up mess is a blessing in disguise.”

Marc tipped her chin so she was looking at him. “If it makes you feel better, babe. But in reality, we weren’t going to wait much longer before claiming you, the rules be damned. Colt would have made damn sure I got my head on straight. You know that.”

She did. Fate had the biggest damn sense of humor or she had a twisted take on life. Either way she looked at it, she still got two of the hottest guys a woman could ever dream to have as her own.

“Help me up.”

Both men stood. Marc rounded the bed and grasped her good hand while Colt supported her with an arm around her waist. Overkill, but she let them have their way.

“You can go back to sitting the way you were.” She ran her good hand down the front of her borrowed cotton T and took a moment to gain her balance. Dusk had moved into night long ago, but with all the rest she’d had recently, sleep was the last thing on her mind.

She slowly walked to the end of the bed and gingerly worked the sling holding her arm in place off her shoulder. Colt moved to stop her, but she stabbed him with a don’t-even-try look that had him sitting back down at the head of the bed.

Next she fisted the hem of her shirt and lifted it first of her good arm, then slid it down and over her injury. She might be aching, but she had something else in mind for the pain.

“Easy, baby. Let me help.”

“Not so fast there, Mr. Dangere.” She eyed him with her sexiest look, daring him to move.

She slipped the cotton off her arm and tossed it on top of her sling.

She stood before them in nothing but a pair of black silk panties the guys had picked up for her after returning Stateside.

Like hungry wolves, their gazes devoured her from head to toe.

“Come here.” Marc’s expression darkened and his voice turned husky. “Let us get a closer look.”

She anchored her thumb into the soft waistband of her panties and worked them down her waist one inch at a time. The torture played out on her men’s faces and she loved every torturous second of it.

With one final pull the silk pooled at her feet and she stood bare before them. “I don’t want to leave.” She licked a thumb and forefinger and took one of her nipples between her fingers. The sensitive flesh pebbled beneath her touch. She moaned, wanting it to be her men’s touch instead of her own.

Colt soaked in the view and stroked a hand down the front of his jeans, his erection jailed by the rough material. He popped the button and the hiss of his zipper played a beautiful tune to her ears. Marc was next, but he was an all in or nothing kind of guy. He stood, his gaze never leaving hers, stripped off his sweatpants and returned to his position at the head of the bed.

“But I do have one question.” Mia raised one knee, then the other and crawled onto the bed between her men. She touched her lips to Marc’s first then Colt’s.

Tenderness and passion played in their eyes and she almost felt guilty about what she was about to say.

She gave a charming laugh followed by a devilish grin. “So Mr. Dangere, Mr. Dessire…where’s the next adventure taking us?”

She sat back on her heels and looked between them, basking in the glory of leaving her men thoroughly shocked and speechless.

THE END