Chapter 18 #3
Aspen had gotten her discharge papers that afternoon, and they’d celebrated both her release from the Army and the job offer she’d received from Acadian Ambulance Service in Temple.
He’d made them a nice dinner with extra-sweet frozen margaritas for Aspen, and topped it off with her favorite—a pound cake for dessert.
After they were done eating, she’d dragged him up to his bedroom and pounced on him.
He was currently lying on his back, holding onto her hips as she rode him hard and fast. Her tits bounced with every thrust, and she moaned as she brought a hand down to flick her clit as she rode him. She was sexy as hell, and it was all Brain could do to hold back his own orgasm.
The second he felt her go over the edge, he grabbed her around the waist and rolled until she was on her back.
Then he fucked her even harder. Almost overwhelmed by the feel of her inner muscles still fluttering all along his bare cock.
They’d done away with condoms, and he’d never felt anything as good as being inside her bareback.
Way too soon, he was on the edge. He pushed inside her as far as he could and let himself go.
A minute or so later, he collapsed, making sure not to crush Aspen under him. He rolled them to their sides, felt her hot breaths against his neck, and closed his eyes in contentment.
He’d almost lost this.
He’d apologized so much that Aspen had ordered him not to say “I’m sorry” ever again in regard to what had happened in Houston. He’d agreed…but he still mentally apologized often.
“Congratulations,” he said softly.
Aspen chuckled. “Thanks.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. The city of Temple might not know it yet, but they’re in the very best hands with you. When someone calls 9-1-1, they’ll be lucky if it’s you who shows up to help.”
“I’ve got some classes I need to take to feel comfortable, especially when it comes to pediatrics, but I’m excited to get started and meet the other paramedics I’ll be working with.”
“They’re going to love you,” Brain told her, hoping that was true.
But Aspen merely shrugged. “Even if they don’t, I’m okay. I have you and your team. And Gillian, Kinley, and Devyn. I don’t need to be best friends with my coworkers, because I’ve got all of you.”
“Damn straight,” Brain told her. “When are you moving in for good?” he asked.
Aspen picked up her head and stared at him. “I wasn’t sure you were ready for that.”
“Not ready?” Brain scoffed. “Woman, I’ve been begging you to stay every night for the last month.”
“If you’re sure…” she said, letting her voice trail off.
“I’m sure,” Brain confirmed. “More than sure. You’re just wasting money renting that apartment since you’re at my house all the time anyway. I want you here. In my bed. In my shower. In my kitchen. I know this house is small, but eventually we’ll get a bigger one.”
“It’s perfect,” Aspen said with a smile.
Brain snorted, and the movement made his cock slip out from between her legs, causing them both to groan.
“I hate losing you,” she said.
“You’ll never lose me, darling,” Brain told her. Then leaned down and kissed her. Long and slow, just how they both liked it.
Winnie Morrison looked over at her neighbor’s house and smiled at seeing Kane’s sleek black car parked in his driveway.
He loved that car. And the fact that it wasn’t sitting safe and secure in his garage could only mean Aspen’s car was currently occupying the space.
It was obvious he loved her more than he loved his car, which reminded Winnie of her late husband.
Steve had been the love of her life. He’d passed away five years ago, and not a day went by when she didn’t miss him. Didn’t miss the way he’d held her hand, or changed the light bulbs without complaint, or chopped the vegetables for salads because he knew she hated doing so.
But she’d had over fifty-five years with him, and she was content with how her life had gone. She was ninety-one, and didn’t have a lot of time left. But she wasn’t dead yet.
So when her granddaughter, Jayme, asked if she could come stay with Winnie for a while, she had enthusiastically agreed. Watching Kane mow her yard in nothing but his shorts was entertaining, sure, but she was bored most days. It would be nice having Jayme around.
Not to mention, at thirty-two, it was past time for her granddaughter to be married. But Jayme was stubborn. And picky.
Winnie wasn’t going to let that stop her though.
She’d found someone who would be perfect for her Jayme.
She’d met the young man—everyone seemed young to Winnie—at the grocery store, and they’d become fast friends.
He’d called her several times to chat, and he’d even stopped by the other day just to check on her and see if she needed anything.
He was respectful, courteous, good-looking—and most importantly, single.
Smiling to herself, Winnie hadn’t felt this much anticipation and excitement in a very long time. She might be old, but she still remembered the butterflies she got when she’d first met Steve. She wanted that for Jayme.
Turning away from the window, Winnie began to plot. She couldn’t wait for Jayme to arrive.
Sierra sat quietly in a chair in the middle of a dilapidated house, desperately trying to get her hands untied.
It was no use; all she managed to do was tighten the knots in the ropes holding her to the chair even more than they already were.
Tears threatened, but she fought against them.
She felt as if all she’d been doing was crying.
It was hard to understand how she’d even gotten here in the first place.
She’d just finished a shift at the chow hall and was headed back to her tent when she’d been grabbed from behind, a sack shoved over her head, and then forced into the back of a vehicle. A man put a knife against her throat and told her that if she made a sound, he’d gut her like a fish.
So she’d lain there, silent and trembling, as they drove right past the guards at the entrance to the post.
She’d been moved from house to house ever since, and paraded with glee in front of the insurgents.
In the midst of her reminiscences, a man she recognized entered the room where she was being held captive and dropped a familiar-looking duffle bag at her feet.
She stared at the bag in dismay. It was hers. She’d been so excited when she’d found it at an Army surplus store back in the States, before she’d left for Afghanistan.
“In case you’re wondering if anyone is looking for you, they aren’t,” said the man.
She’d seen him around base. He was an interpreter.
Muhammad Qahhar. Someone trusted enough to mingle amongst the American servicemen and women.
“They think you left. That you couldn’t handle the job.
No one cares about you, devil woman. You’re ours. ”
“What are you going to do to me?” she asked.
“You’re a training tool for my men,” he said.
Sierra didn’t want to know what that meant, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What do you mean?”
“They need to learn how to get information from our captives. How to inflict just enough pain to make someone want to tell us everything, but not enough to kill them. You’ll be our test subject.
We’ll use you to hone our skills, so when it’s time, and America sends their best soldiers to take us down, we’ll be skilled enough to send all you Westerners running back home with your tails between your legs. ”
Sierra was horrified. They were going to torture her for practice?
“Please, let me go! I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“No,” the man said succinctly before turning to two other men who had come into the room with him. Sierra hadn’t even noticed them before; she’d been concentrating too hard on the man she’d known as an interpreter…and her bag. “Are the caves ready?” he asked.
“Yes, Shahzada,” the other man said.
Sierra blinked in recognition. Shahzada was the name of the leader of the insurgents in the area. Muhammad was Shahzada? Oh, shit. He moved freely on the base. He was trusted by everyone. Clearly, no one even suspected he was the very terrorist they were searching for.
Right there, under the noses of the men and women Sierra had gotten to know while working on the base.
“Good. Take her there and do as you’ve been instructed. We’ll see how many other contractors we can grab to keep her company. Eventually the Americans will catch on, and they will send their so-called elite forces to try to stop us. By then, we’ll be ready for them.”
Shahzada smiled gleefully as he turned to Sierra. “You and the others will be instrumental in getting your people to leave our lands. You should be proud.”
Proud? No, she wasn’t proud—she was terrified.
Sierra couldn’t stop herself from flinching away from the men who came forward. She had no idea what was in store for her, but she knew it wasn’t going to be good.
Someone, somewhere, had to figure out that she hadn’t just up and left the base, right?
She had to be strong, stay alive, so she could tell someone that Muhammad was Shahzada. She might not be a soldier, but she loved her country—and Sierra wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Her last thought before a fist came toward her face, making it impossible to think about anything, was the larger-than-life soldier, Grover.
She’d sent him a letter, explaining that she preferred more personal handwritten letters to email, and that she was looking forward to getting to know him.
When he got it, and realized she wasn’t sending any others, surely he’d think something was wrong. Right?