Chapter 6 #2
Heat punched through him, a volatile, intoxicating cocktail of testosterone and adrenaline, lust and fury and need tangled so tightly he couldn’t separate one from the other. His muscles locked, straining, his pulse hammering in places that had nothing to do with survival.
Christ, it was arousal stripped bare, no finesse, no control.
Primitive. Dangerous. The kind of hunger he’d spent his whole life keeping buried under discipline and restraint was now boiling over just because this stubborn, infuriating, beautiful woman was sprawled across him, her body a live current against his.
It was again too much. Too real. Too goddamn close again.
Her eyes flared, then froze, and she felt it, too, the surge of awareness slamming between them, raw and undeniable. One heartbeat, two, and then her compelling gaze cut down, realization striking hard as his body betrayed him.
Her head snapped up, narrowing into accusation. “Are you actually hard?”
Brawler’s jaw locked. Oh. Hell no. He wasn’t explaining a thing. Not here. Not when fury churned hotter than shame. Fury that she’d disobeyed.
“You were told not to mess with that camera! What were you thinking?”
“Hmm, let me see,” she lobbed back, bristling, her eyes losing all that sheen, her face hardening. “Maybe my life’s fucking work. I had to get that footage.”
“Even if it risked your life?”
“Yes! It may be something frivolous to you, but it’s my lifeblood.
I’ve worked too hard to give up because there’s gunfire or because some pushy alpha male thinks he gets to dictate edicts from the gods of war.
I might be small, and a woman, and a zoologist, but I know my purpose.
I have the guts to see it through. That’s something you should understand. ”
His eyes narrowed. More than defensiveness there. “You fucking saw something…” He ground his teeth. “A paw print.”
Her glance skittered away. “What if I did? That’s my business. How could you understand my academic pursuit? It’s more than—” She cut herself off.
Too much. Jesus, too much. Buzzing from the firefight. Blood up, body primed to kill. Missed Beast’s cue. Nearly lost her. Her small frame alone, exposed, target painted red against green.
His assault-burn roared hot and jagged, training screaming, control the scene, control yourself, lock it down. Except he couldn’t lock down a goddamn thing. Not with her in his face, unapologetic, her stubborn fire daring him to do his worst.
His body betrayed him again, blood pumping low and hard, hips surging. Survival blurred with sexual hunger until he couldn’t tell the difference. Lust. Fury. Terror. All firing on the same circuit.
What kind of man reacted like this when she’d almost died? What kind of handler missed his dog’s warning because a woman got under his skin?
She scrambled off him, palms skidding in the dirt. He rolled to his feet like the ground was on fire, Beast shoving between them with hackles raised.
Brawler’s breath tore in, harsh and ragged. His voice came out rough, guttural. “Are you hurt?”
Emily blinked. “What?”
“Injured, for fuck’s sake,” he snapped.
She looked him up and down, mouth twisting. “No. Something big and annoying broke my fall.” Her eyes dipped, pointed.
He ground his teeth, fury tightening every muscle. “It was the assault-burn,” he rasped, the words low and raw.
But that wasn’t the half of it. Sometimes even a SEAL couldn’t control biology.
Couldn’t shut down the surge that spiked through blood and muscle, the way nerves lit like live wire when danger collided with need.
He could master his weapon, his breath, his goddamn heartbeat but not the way his body hardened against hers, urgent, demanding, shameful in its honesty.
It wasn’t weakness. It was the one thing he couldn’t fight. The one thing that made him feel less like a machine and more like a man. With her it wasn’t just biology. It was hunger.
Her brows arched, that damn smirk cutting him deep. “Assault-burn? You mean adrenaline? So, what? You’ve got trouble controlling all your weapons? Locked and loaded takes on a whole new meaning.”
Heat spiked low and brutal. His jaw locked, teeth grinding.
She didn’t know how close she was to getting exactly what she was teasing out of him.
He leaned in, voice rough enough to scrape. “Careful. You’re one smart-ass comment away from me proving exactly how loaded I am.”
The words tore out before he could leash them, raw as the surge still ripping through him.
The worst part? It wasn’t a threat. It was the goddamn truth.
For a second, she just stared at him, lips parted. Then that wicked spark snapped in her eyes, her smile curling slow and deliberate, sweet as sin, and it knocked him hard.
“Is that an invitation?” she fired back, quick as lightning. “This smart-ass felt every inch of your impressive load, and my comments would fill up my field journal.”
Christ . The words hit him like another blow, low and brutal. His blood roared, every muscle coiled so tight it hurt.
Then her brows lifted, sharp as a blade, and she glanced at Beast. He could practically see the gears turning in her head as his partner gave the whole damn thing away. The Malinois slunk over, ears flat, and licked his hand like an apology.
“I was just wondering,” Emily said slowly, sharp eyes narrowing, “how you could have fallen.” She looked at Beast again. He gave a soft, guilty whine.
She leaned down, stroking his head, then straightened and pinned Brawler with that fierce little stare. “You tripped over your dog. Didn’t you?”
Brawler felt the heat flush up his neck into his cheeks. To add insult to injury, Beast’s tail thumped.
“So the big, bad operator, brought down not by the enemy but by his own alpha swagger. Beast, there’s more bacon in your future, sweet boy.”
He crouched, his body protesting every inch of it. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you may have sold me out for bacon, because you outrank me.” Rubbing a hand down Beast’s flank, he murmured, “It’s not your fault, buddy. You did everything right.”
He leveled his gaze on her, letting her see the edge she’d put there. “I was distracted by something red and annoying.”
Emily let out a bark of laughter, the sound spilling bright in the dark. “Oh, touché . I heard most green giants are jolly. I thought maybe you’d lost the gene somewhere.”
He rose in one smooth motion, towering over her, his fists curling tight. “Yeah. Somewhere between a rescue and a nut punch.”
Tex’s voice slammed into his ear, shredded by static, “…where the fuck are you! Flash is—” Then silence, the jungle swallowing the rest.
Brawler froze, stomach dropping. He’d been lax.
He’d let her drag him into the fog, the banter, the fucking sparks of it, and for a split second he’d forgotten the world was on fire.
The fog of war was one thing. Emily Shade was another.
She was her own storm front, overtaking him, scattering his focus like leaves in a gale.
Not again. Never again.
Security was his first concern. He grabbed her hard, hauling her into cover behind a jut of tangled roots. She made a soft, angry sound, but he ignored it. His arm locked around her small frame, anchoring her whether she liked it or not.
He swore, low and vicious, scanning the dark. His rifle was gone, lost in the tumble, but his sidearm was still holstered. He drew it, thumb brushing the safety, eyes cutting through the shifting shadows.
No movement. No sound. Just the press of jungle night, thick and breathless, like the world was holding still.
Emily seethed beside him, her fury sparking through the air, her nerves jangling against his as sharp as Beast’s tension ever did. He didn’t have to look to feel it, the tight little knot of pixie madness, jaw clenched, chest rising quick under her pack straps.
Brawler depressed his comm. “LT?”
Nothing but static.
His curses came soft and deadly. He ripped the connector, reseated it, tried again. “LT?”
The jungle crackled back at him, Tex’s voice bleeding through, ragged with fury. “…Brawler, copy! You’re breaking up. We can’t wait…Flash?—”
The words dissolved into static. Brawler forced himself to block it out, focusing on the signal, the mission.
“Fell down a slope,” he bit out. “No way back to you. We’re uninjured for the most part.”
More static. Then, clearer, Tex’s voice slammed through. “ Fuck! Go around. We’ll meet when you hit higher ground.”
“Copy that,” Brawler said, clipped and hard. His next words ground out. “What about Flash?”
Static swallowed the answer. Nothing but the hiss of interference.
Brawler’s jaw clenched tight, fury gnawing at his control. He holstered the sidearm with a snap. Emily’s eyes, fierce and bright as hammered metal, burned at him, her jaw locked just as tight as his.
The jungle pressed in, hot and heavy, the two of them braced against each other like flint and steel, sparks inevitable.
“Stay here,” he growled.
Emily’s mouth opened, protest already forming, but he caught her chin in his gloved hand, tilting her face up until her eyes locked on his. “Don’t test me. We are fucked right now, so unless you’ve got some tactical advice I need to hear, shut it and don’t move.”
Her wildfire stare was quick and consuming, but he didn’t have time for her anger.
“Beast. Guard.”
The dog shifted instantly, planting himself at Emily’s side, hackles raised, eyes fixed on the dark. She gave Brawler a grudging nod, jaw tight, like she wanted to bite him for the order but knew better than to risk it.
He swept the jungle with his NVGs, every sense stretched taut. The night pressed close, too quiet, the air thick with the damp reek of earth and gunpowder.
He moved back to the slope where he’d tumbled, boots sinking into loose soil. Searching under NVGs was easy as pie, every branch and rock glowing green. A glint in the leaf litter caught his eye.
His rifle.