Chapter Fifteen
Blade
A ll tits and ass and defiance, she fucking bypassed me.
This woman was goddamn catnip for my cock.
She was also heading right for the house I’d broken into.
Church never mentioned his woman had a roommate. Then again, he hadn’t mentioned shit else about her except that she was blonde and not crazy.
This woman wasn’t that.
Thick, dark brown hair halfway down her back, light brown eyes, giving no fucks that she didn’t know me from shit—the five-foot-nothing walking attitude in front of me hadn’t so much as blinked when I drew my Sig in the SUV.
If you bottled my type, this woman was it.
Not that I fucking remembered the last time I was with a woman. Before my last deployment. Probably.
Christ.
Strutting past the front of the house, the woman aimed for the back entrance.
I watched her ass and calculated.
I was still watching it when she stopped short and about-faced. “I got it from here.”
I scanned her position, the yard, the sight lines, and the neighboring properties. Then I ran through the same damn thing I’d been festering on since she’d walked down the street while texting.
Where the fuck was the blonde?
And how did she know her.
Aiming for a stealth approach, I didn’t give the question a lead-in. “Where’s the blonde you left the bar with?”
“Why?” Her hands went to her hips, and the brunette took up a defensive position. “You into threesomes?”
“No.”
She snorted out a half laugh without humor. “Right. Said no guy ever.”
“Got one dick and nothing to prove, woman.” I’d never aimed for headcount, unless it was HVTs.
“Sure.” She drew the word out. “Because it’s all about proving something. Let me guess, next you’re going to say you’re not into blondes.”
I wasn’t. “You need to hear it?”
“I don’t need anything from you.”
“Except my SUV between you and a few hundred rounds of lead.”
“Okay, that was a one-time exception. I don’t need anything else.”
No, but she wanted to fuck me. That shit was all over her face when she’d heard my rank. I tipped my chin toward the pink dump. “This your friend’s house?” Unless she bypassed the place and kept going through the backyard to the multifamily property behind this one, she had a connection to this house and the blonde.
And fuck if I wasn’t going to find out what it was.
Her defensiveness kicked up to detonation levels. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a thing for her. Not that it’d matter.”
Purposely ignoring her comment, I eased back. “Just making sure you get inside, woman.” I nodded toward the back steps. “Go. I’ll wait.”
“And then what?” she asked suspiciously.
“I come back tomorrow and pick you up for dinner.” I wouldn’t.
She smirked. “You’re not the dating type.”
“I’m any damn type I need to be.”
The woman rolled her eyes at me. “You’re so full of it. You’re exactly one thing.”
“Yeah?” I aimed to keep her talking. “What’s that?”
“Bossy.”
She had no fucking idea. “Get your ass inside, woman.” I tipped my chin toward the pink dump.
Cagey, sexy, her eyes narrowed. “What if this isn’t my house?”
“What if that uniform in the SUV isn’t mine?”
Her half snort, half laugh came back. “It’s definitely yours.”
I didn’t reply.
She stared at me a beat, then shook her head, but her smile held. “Oh, you’re good.”
I wasn’t. “Inside,” I ordered.
She sighed dramatically. “Fine. But just so you know….” Whipping out her cell, she snapped a pic of me, then aimed toward the front of the house and grabbed one of the rental. “I’m sending these pictures to my brothers, Mr. Chief Special Warfare Officer. If anything happens to me, just know, they’ll gut you before they kill you.”
Silently cursing putting the rental in my own name, I was already planning to infil the house and wipe her cell after she fell asleep. “They’d have to find me first.” Those pics would be deleted before daybreak.
“Trust me, it’s their specialty.” Without sending a text to anyone, she shoved her phone into the top of her bra.
I fucked with her. “You sure they can take me?”
Putting a finger against her full fucking lips in a dead tell, she pretended to size me up. “Maybe not one of them. But all three?” She grinned. “Oh, yeah. You’d be toast.”
I gave her credit for keeping up the lie. “Good to know.”
“Glad we understand each other. You can go now.”
I fucked with her one last time. “See you tomorrow.” Selling the lie, I gave it a civilian timestamp. “Eight p.m.” I didn’t take chicks to dinner. Especially not whacked-out lying ones who day drank. But I had to admit, chowing down non-government-supplied rations with Tits and Ass wouldn’t kill me.
Not fucking her after might be a challenge.
Not that I’d dismissed the idea outright, but I should.
“I didn’t say I was having dinner with you.”
She hadn’t said no either. I rode out the narrative. “Twenty hundred hours, woman.” Turning, calculating a timeline, I aimed for the rental.
“After all that, you’re not going to make sure I get inside?”
“No.” Purposely not looking back, knowing damn well I could take that woman for a meal and still keep my commitment, I kept walking.
“Wait.”
I didn’t stop.
“What’s your name?”
I didn’t answer.
“ Oh my God . WAIT.”
Taking two more strides to really fuck with her, then a three second pause after I stopped, I finally turned. But I didn’t say shit.
Hands on her hips, standing on the back steps of the house, looking put out as hell, she shook her head. “You drink beer?”
No. “Depends.”
“On?”
“If the situation warrants it.” I’d nurse piss water to get at her cell and delete those pics.
“Does a cold beer as a thank-you for saving me from a drive-by warrant it?”
“What brand?”
“What brand?” she repeated incredulously. “ Wow . The free kind. Is that a good enough brand for you? And before you ask, yes, it’s in a bottle. I wouldn’t offer canned beer to a Chief Special Warfare Officer.”
Mentally tallying how many times she’d used my rank, scanning the yard, not answering immediately, I stacked the tactical moves until her irritation turned to insecurity.
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “So? Is that a yes?”
I glanced at my watch.
Thirty-four hours, twenty-seven minutes until I had to be in fucking Manhattan.
I looked back the brunette. “I can swing a half hour.”
More than enough time to ply her with alcohol, get answers, and wipe those photos.