Read The Soldier (Men Who Thrill Book 3) Online
Authors: Kaye Blue
Tags: #Interracial Romantic Suspense
The Soldier (Men Who Thrill Book 3) (9 page)
Badly.
“It’s okay, Jordan. Just let me check you,” I said softly.
She eyed me warily, but stayed still when I reached for her again. I threaded my fingers through her hair, gingerly touching her scalp, checking for blood or bruising. When I grazed a finger over the crown of her head, she again jumped, and I felt the beginnings of a lump, and I wanted to kill the General all over again.
Not an option, so I settled for calling for a doctor.
“Quickly, quietly, go find the doctor Titan keeps on staff,” I said to the man closest to the elevator.
He nodded and then moved, the elevator clinking shut and the whirl of the pulley sounding loud as he made his ascent. I grasped Jordan’s hand and led her across the room, settling her in to one of the chairs.
“The doctor will be here soon to take a look at that bump.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just…Well, I’m not exactly sure what I am,” she admitted, the first true glimpse of Jordan I’d seen today.
She smiled faintly then, and that simple expression filled my heart, made me forget the searing pain in my shoulder, the dead man on the floor, the mess that I had yet to clean up. In the face of her expression, and in the knowledge that she was safe, everything else seemed insignificant.
“Um, sir?”
Jordan lifted her gaze to look over my shoulder, and I followed the path, facing the man who’d shot Susan as he stared at me, question on his face.
I’d rarely been called “sir,” but there was no doubt that he was addressing me.
“What do we do now?” he asked.
It seemed I’d just gotten a promotion.
Chapter Seventeen
“So have you decided?” Jordan asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
And I didn’t. It had been a week since the General had taken her, and those days had been a whirlwind of activity. I’d spent countless hours working on cleaning things up, and it had been a challenge. Not the least of which had been explaining Susan Sterling’s demise.
Jordan had taken it hard, saying that even though they hadn’t gotten along, she’d never wanted harm to come to the other woman. And, though she’d not said it out loud, she thought it was her fault. I’d tried to convince her otherwise, but I wasn’t sure I’d been successful.
“Why wouldn’t you?” she asked.
I looked across my dining room table, trying to ignore how right she looked there, how right it had felt to have her here over the last week, hopeful that, if I didn’t acknowledge how right it was to have her here, I would be so aware of how wrong it would be when she was gone.
She looked at me patiently, waiting for my response. But I didn’t know what to say. I’d come clean, well, as clean as I could, and asked her opinion on my current choices.
“Tell me what you think,” I said.
“Fine. I’ll tell you yet again. You should take it. You
have
to take it.”
I brushed a hand across my hair and exhaled. “The stuff he said, Jordan. It was true.”
“Even more reason you have to take it,” she said, again managing to surprise me.
I lifted a brow and she continued.
“Look, you admitted you aren’t the nicest of guys, and this is your chance to change some of that.”
“There’s no changing it.”
“Not directly, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try. And besides, who else would you want to have that power?”
And that was the point I kept coming back to.
We still didn’t know everything that the General had been involved in, probably never would, but we were still looking. And there was the immediately pressing concern of who would take his place. I’d been standing in, helping things run in the immediate aftermath, a situation that my superiors wanted to make permanent.
But I resisted, and what I hadn’t told anyone, not even Jordan, was that the position scared me. The General hadn’t always been what he’d become, so what would years, decades in that same position do to me?
Jordan rounded the table and settled in my lap. I hadn’t been with her again, but the few hours of rest I’d had I’d spent with her, holding her, touching her, trying to keep some distance but growing ever more comfortable with her presence, the feel of her in my arms when I held her at night.
I did that now, squeezing her soft fullness against me, luxuriating in her warmth, the tickle of her breath against my throat.
I shifted, letting her feel my hardness as I looked down at her and then leaned to kiss her.
“Put your legs around my waist,” I whispered.
Her eyes widened with surprise, but she did, and once she straddled me, I stood. She shrieked and then pulled her legs tighter, trying to keep hold. I walked to my bedroom, the need hastening my steps.
I deposited her on the bed, pausing for a moment, just long enough to say, “I need you.”
“I’m here,” she said, her voice as husky as mine.
I pulled off my T-shirt and moaned when she sat up and stroked her hands up my stomach and across my pecs and then down to cup my erection.
The need that had been simmering boiled over, and as she worked at my pants, I quickly stripped her of her shirt and pants. Naked, I stood before her, my cock almost straining with the need to be inside her.
Then, without my prodding, she leaned back and I covered her body with mine, the contrast of her softness against my hardness, the swell of her breasts against my chest, her full thighs around my waist pushing my desire even higher.
My cock rested at the apex of her thighs, and I pushed, finding her already wet, wanting. She moved her hand between our bodies, fingertips grazing against my overheated skin. Then she gripped my cock at the base, moving it against her clit before she began feeding me into her warmth.
The pleasure was overwhelming, as was the sense of belonging and relief that stole over me when, after she removed her hand, I was fully seated, not a millimeter between us.
Her silken walls nestled my hardness, and when I moved, we both cried out at the rush of sensation. I pumped into her, hard, fast, and she met me thrust for thrust, the pleasure that rocked through me reflected in her moans.
I kept my eyes glued to her, mesmerized by the rhythmic motion of her body, the ecstasy that covered her face.
And then she opened her eyes, turned her honey-brown orbs on me, and, lost in those eyes, I let myself go, holding her shoulders as I spilled cum inside her.
Still buried inside her, I kissed her again and again, not sure I would ever get enough.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Much later, Jordan still beside me, I spoke into the darkness of my bedroom.
“Jordan?” I said quietly, not certain whether she was asleep.
“Hmm?” she responded.
“I need to tell you something.”
She sat up, her curious, and suspicious.
“Go ahead,” she said, wariness edging into her tone.
“Stephanie…She’s—”
I stopped when Jordan closed her eyes and her face pulled tight. After a moment, she opened them, and they now brimmed with tears. “I’m ready now,” she said.
“She’s fine.”
“Fine?” Jordan said, gaping. “You mean she’s alive?”
I nodded.
“Oh God,” she said, closing her eyes again.
The question of whether to tell her this had weighed heavily with all the others. It was risky, but seeing the relief on Jordan’s face made it worth it.
“But you can’t tell anyone. No one, Jordan,” I said, hoping my voice conveyed the need for absolute secrecy. “I probably shouldn’t have told you.”
“I’m glad you did,” she said, opening her eyes. “I won’t ask anything else, and I won’t speak of it again, but to know that she’s out there…”
She lay back against the bed, relaxed.
Happy.
But I wasn’t finished yet.
“I think I’m going to do it,” I said quietly, the truth of the words and the choice undeniable once I’d spoken out loud.
She scooted close to me, throwing her arm across my chest and wrapping both of her legs around one of mine, her warm sex against my thigh.
“Good,” she said, her voice light, content.
“Will you stick around to make sure I’m doing it right?” I asked, trying to sound casual, playful, something that I had no ability to pull off.
She glanced up, a smile in her eyes.
“Yes.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to real people, locales, businesses, or events are unintentional. This work is intended for mature audiences only. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, electronic or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the author, provided that brief quotations may be reproduced for review purposes.
The Soldier
Copyright ©2015 by Kaye Blue. All rights reserved.
