The Elite: The Complete Series of Boomer and Player (With Bonus) (60 page)

Instead she just looked tired.

“So he knows my name?” She asked, her voice small.

“No. Or at least if he does, he didn’t use it.”

She gave a shallow nod, her eyes drifting to some point on the wall, staring, unblinking as she processed everything I’d told her.

I closed the gap between us and squatted down in front of her. “I’m so sorry, Gemma. Believe me, I never, in a million years, would have knowingly dragged you into this shit storm.”

Her eyes flicked back to mine and for a moment we stared at one another in silence. Passing understanding between ourselves without words or movement besides the frantic searching of our eyes as they met. “I believe you.”

“I’m going to figure a way out of this,” I told her, reaching for her hands. “And in the meantime, I’ll keep you safe and make sure nothing happens.”

Gemma stared at me for another beat, and my lips parted, readying to kiss her, but then just like the shifting of the wind, her eyes rolled and she blew out a frustrated puff of air. She stood and sidestepped me on the floor and stalked to the kitchen sink. “See, Aaron, right there, that’s the kind of shit you need to stop doing.”

I straightened faster than the stitches in my side wanted and my hand went to the spot at the stab of pain before I could turn to face her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This whole macho protector thing, like I’m some kind of dainty ass flower who can’t handle herself. I’m not some party girl you picked up at a bar who’s had one too many and needs a big strong guy to take her home and make sure she doesn’t get mugged or worse. Hell, I’ve never been
that
girl. All right? I’m a capable fuckin’ woman who doesn’t need a babysitter.” She stared at me, her eyes ablaze again, daring me to cross her. “So, if you’re looking for a damsel in distress to rescue, like if that’s what gets you up, then you’re in the wrong place.”

I took a menacing step towards her, my blood pressure spiking, and my heart slamming into my ribs so hard I was afraid it would cause permanent damage. “You’re my woman and it’s my job to protect you. So, back down and let me handle this.”

She squared her shoulder. “Your woman?” She scoffed. “Last time I checked this was the twenty-first century. So, unless you have a cave to stomp off to, you need to check yourself. I’m not your possession or property so you don’t need to puppy guard me. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a soldier too. I’ve been to war and seen shit that very few people could even comprehend. I know how to use any gun you put into my hands. And if you weren’t injured, I’d knock your fuckin’ ass to the ground right here just to prove my point.”

My hands twitched at my sides. I didn’t want to strike at her. I’d never hit a woman. But it was tempting to wrestle her to the kitchen floor and pin her to show her that no matter what her training was—she wasn’t big and bad enough to take me down.

Instead, I threw my hands into the air. “So, let me make sure I understand, you think that if I want to protect you and keep you safe that it must mean that I’m some kind of underdeveloped Neanderthal? It couldn’t possibly be because I’m falling in love with you and couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you?”

Gemma reared back like I’d slapped her across the face and put a hand to the counter to stabilize herself. My heart skipped and sputtered as my words echoed back to me.

The craziest thing was that even though they had been wrenched out in the heat of the moment, I didn’t regret them.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Gemma finally said, shaking her head. “You’re just caught up in the drama.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” I grabbed her hand and held it tight, forcing her attention back to my eyes. “Gemma, please pack some things. I need you to come back with me. I need to know you’re safe.”

She stared up at me, her face a mix of confusion and the slightly dampened urge to fight with me. “Aaron, I’m—” Whatever she started to say flitted away as I slipped my fingers along her jawline and cupped her face in my hand, careful not to scratch her with the edge of my cast.

“Don’t make me ask again, Gemma. Please just do this for me.”

After another long moment, she nodded. “Come on.”

She tugged on my hand and led me into the room she’d changed in. It was a small room, possibly intended to be used as a den or an office, since it didn’t have a closet, but Gemma had it set up like a bedroom with a queen sized bed wedged against the wall, a nightstand with a metallic reading lamp, and a dresser on the other wall with barely a foot of space between the drawers and the end of the mattress.

“The upstairs is being remodeled,” she offered as an explanation as I perused the room. “I’m knocking down one of the walls to expand the master and add an en suite bathroom.”

“
You’re
knocking down the walls?” I shifted my gaze up to the ceiling, curious to see the construction site above.

“I started it, but I have a team coming in next week to finish the job. It should be another couple of weeks until it’s all done. And in the meantime, this is my bedroom.”

“Cozy,” I said, grinning at her.

“Cramped is more like it.” As though to prove her point, she stepped over a cardboard box of clothing that looked as though it had been rummaged through on multiple occasions, and yet never fully unpacked. I chuckled softly as I watched her gather some clothing from the overflow. She shot me a dark look. “I could stop packing at any moment, ya know.”

I chuckled and held up my hands. “I’m not judging…I’m just thinking I’ve seen barracks with a hundred enlisted and they might have been more organized than all this…I guess the Army doesn’t teach efficient packing techniques.”

She chucked a tank top at my head. Followed by a balled up pair of socks. “Pack away, Navy boy.”

I grabbed the items, still smiling, and looked for a bag to put them in. Within a few minutes, she’d tossed—hurled—a pile of clothes at me and fished an Army duffel from under the bed for me to pack them into. While I finished packing the item, sarcastically offering her hints and tips on proper packing techniques, she left to go to the next door bathroom and grab her toiletries.

“See,” I said, my voice teasing, as she handed me the bottles of shampoo and conditioner, “look at all this space. That’s how the Navy packs a bag.”

Gemma launched herself at me and pinned me down flat on the bed. “Ya wanna keep running your mouth, sailor? Or you think you can find something better to do with it?”

“I’d rather find something better for you to do with yours…” I grinned up at her.

She tightened her grip on my wrist. I wrapped my casted arm around her and pulled her down closer. When she was close enough, I raised my head from the bed and captured her mouth.

Every emotion and remnant of fear and frustration channeled into the kiss that went from zero to sixty in three seconds flat.

Gemma moaned softly as I parted her lips with my tongue and ran it over the surface of hers. She loosened her grip on my wrist and I took advantage of her distraction to flip her over onto her back. She grinned up at me. “So it’s like that, huh?”

“I’m The Player, baby. I always win.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes, but her mocking quickly dissolved as I seared her lips with another intense kiss. Within minutes, we were stripping one another, and our bodies melted together like hot wax. I was in no mood to go slow and tease and caress her. I wanted to be buried inside her, working out my frustrations in a fit of hot passion.

When Gemma’s clothes were all laying on the floor, joining the mess of other clothes, she managed to wrangle me out of my jeans, jacket, and shirt, and was working on tugging down the waist of my shorts.

She was in just as much of a hurry as I was.

I grinned up at her as my cock sprang free from my boxer briefs and she let them drop to the floor. “Now, what was it I was saying about keeping your mouth busy…”

“Hmm. I’m not sure…” she teased, stroking her fingers up my dick. I shuddered at her feather-light touch that set my skin on fire.

“Gemma,” I hissed, as her fingers closed around my balls and caressed them slowly. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Why not? It’s fun watching you squirm…”

“I’ll make you regret it,” I warned, smiling at her.

She took a step closer, her perky nipples brushing against my chest. “Oh, now I’m worried.”

“A glutton for punishment, huh?”

She shrugged but licked her lips slowly. “Depends on the punishment…”

Fuck, she’s sexy.

My cock twitched against her thigh, and she smiled up at me, her hand still wrapped around my balls, stroking them absently. I reached behind her, sliding my flat hand down her low back, over the curve of her ass, and then raised it a few inches. “Last warning, Gemma.”

She flashed a devil may care smile and I took the invitation to slap her bare ass. It was a light playful slap, but enough to make her shiver.

With a smile, she climbed up onto her bed and got on all fours, positioning herself for me to continue.

Which I gladly did.

I smacked her ass again and she moaned. When I slipped a finger between her pert cheeks, and through her folds, I grinned at how drenched and ready she was. I grabbed a condom from her bedside table and slipped it on before I delivered another slap.

“Harder,” Gemma said, her voice delirious with lust.

I teased her with the tip of my cock and then slapped her ass again, with my flat palm, this time leaving a red mark on her fair skin.

To my surprise—and delight—she continued begging for more and when I entered her, she spasmed and contracted so much I thought she came with the first thrust. I gave her a new spanking before each thrust and her ass cheek was bright red from the repeated slaps. I hadn’t hit her hard enough to make it bruise, but the mark would likely remain red for the rest of the night. The thought excited me and made me want to mark her in other ways.

“Are you going to behave, Gemma? And let me take care of you?”

“Uh-huh,” she groaned.

I thrust deeper inside her and her groan became more urgent and needy. “Good girl.” I rubbed the tender spot on her bare ass, massaging the mark. She spread her legs wider and I thrust harder and deeper still. She arched, begging for release, when I felt myself thicken. I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer. I didn’t want to.

Before I came, I tore off the condom and pulled out at the last second, and shot my load all over her bare ass. Gemma was moaning from her own release as I rubbed the substance into her skin. She sank down to the mattress and blew out a puff of air and I lay down beside her, for the first time feeling the stitches in my side protesting against my vigor.

It had been so worth it.

Chapter Eight

“I think I’m going to have to misbehave more often,” Gemma declared with a wink, as she rolled off of me, lying flat against the bed, her breasts still heaving from the exertion. Little beads of sweat coated her skin and her hair fanned over the pillow in a messy array.

She’d never looked sexier.

“I won’t say no. I knew you were gonna be trouble from the very beginning.”

Gemma laughed, but silence settled between us, and I could all but hear her wheels turning. I rolled over to face her. “What’s wrong?”

“Aaron?” She twisted to look at me, her stare suddenly dark and serious. “I’m sorry that I was such a bitch earlier.”

“You took your punishment like a champ,” I said, teasing her. She smiled but it faded quickly. I could see it in her eyes that she was sincerely torn up about our argument—regardless of how hot the make-up/punishment sex had been. I reached over and brushed her hair back. “You were right. I was being a macho dickhead with a caveman complex.”

Gemma giggled and the sound vibrated through me, loosening the remnants of tension and frustration from the argument in her kitchen. She rolled her had back against the pillow and let out a sigh. “Did you mean what you said…the falling in love part?”

My eyes swept over her profile, following each line and curve of her delicate face. I let her question sink in for a moment, waiting for the truth to come out, but was met with a quiet comfort. “Gemma, look at me,” I said softly.

She rolled to her side and waited, her eyes wide as she watched me.

“I meant what I said.”

Gemma considered me out of the corner of her eye for a long moment, just long enough to turn my confidence into uncertainty. “Hey, listen,” I started, pushing myself up into a sitting position beside her. “There’s no reason to make this all dramatic. I wasn’t saying it to get anything in return. I just wanted you to know.”

Gemma turned to look me full in the face. “Well don’t go backing down now.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to say something back right now.”

“There you go protecting me again,” she replied with a soft smile. She reached between us and wrapped her fingers around the tips of my fingers that stuck out of the cast. “I’m glad you said what you said. You don’t strike me as the heart on your sleeve type, so I know that must have been a big step...” she paused, and I didn’t correct her. She had me pegged.

So much had happened so quickly that there were moments when it was hard for me to decipher what was real and what was all in my head. But looking down at our interior locked fingertips, I knew that what was happening between Gemma and me was real. Somehow in the middle of the shit storm I’d gotten caught up in—there was a silver lining.

We basked in the aftermath for a few more minutes before the reality of our situation was thrown back onto me with the impact of a sumo wrestler, when Gemma said, “So, there’s something I need to tell you, but first you have to promise not to freak out.”

I groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re knocked up,” I said, teasingly.

Gemma slapped my forearm—not so teasingly. “No, but kudos for sensitivity.” She glared at me for a moment before continuing, “There’s a little more to the story about my afternoon than I told you before.”

All of my relaxed muscles tensed, one by one, turning my body into a thick wall. Bracing myself for whatever was going to come out of her mouth next.