CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MARSHALL
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That sneaky little wolf. I said one night—which I didn’t mean—and she’s snuck out. I am not done. I want much, much more of that sexy body of hers.
Fucking drugs. I’m a light sleeper and would normally have woken when she stirred. But she got lucky.
I stand with her note in my hand and read it again.
Glad you’re home, toy soldier. That was amazing. See you around.
See me around?
The fuck?
What does she think just happened? Because despite popular belief, I don’t go licking just anyone’s pussy.
Okay, yes I’ve licked a few.
Not the point.
I choose wisely and only lick... This is not how I saw this line of thought going.
What I’m trying to get across is I might not be married—heck, I might not be dating anyone—but I have dated a few women. I don’t just sleep with them.
I’ve not fucked as many as people think.
Since leaving the military none of my relationships have turned into anything serious. One, while I was still on active duty about five years ago, seemed to be heading in that direction. We moved in together but after six weeks, we knew it was a mistake.
I flirt.
I love flirting.
Women are awesome. Bantering with them is my sport, but I’m fussy about who I sleep with. Or date. That’s what I’m trying to say.
Trina is mine. This is not over, and I won’t fucking see her around. I am going to hunt her down and we are going to play hide the damn sausage again.
And again.
Until she looks at me with those wild blue eyes and admits to herself and to me that this is more than just a fierce attraction.
She cared that I was gone and had been injured. And I thought about her almost every fucking minute of every day while I was gone. Perhaps not when there was live fire, but a lot.
That means something.
She can’t ignore it because she has some dating rule. I’m going to force her to explain her aversion to military men. Also, I’m not fucking enlisted.
I won’t be going back in the field for a few months with this injury away, so if things turn serious between us then I’ll speak to Josh.
I need to anyway.
Being back in the desert was a reminder that it’s not where I want to be anymore. I left to pursue a different path, and it just felt like I was going backward. I appreciate that Josh and Aidan want to step away because of their women, but I’m not the man for the job. They’ll have to recruit someone.
My mind wanders back to the operation in Kuwait. When I left, Rodriques said he would be reporting Miller, which didn’t surprise me.
I mean, Jesus, he was drinking while on a mission? What the fuck was the guy thinking? He could have got us all killed.
He nearly got me killed.
I should’ve taken a clean shot from the hill instead of a high-speed car chase across the desert to take down the target and being fucking shot.
The bullet wound in my arm is an indirect result of Miller’s behavior. I mean, fuck, had it been a few inches to the right, it would’ve been so much more serious.
I could have bled out and died.
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THE NEXT DAY, after sleeping almost the entire day before, I shower, rebandage my arm, and then dress. After a lazy breakfast, I toss back my antibiotics and head down to the garage.
I press the automatic door opener and climb behind the wheel of my silver A6 Audi. Also knows as my baby.
Yes, I love powerful engines.
I grin as it roars to life, wishing that Trina was sitting next to me. I’d love to watch the expression on her face as she felt the fierce intensity through the seat.
Inside her pussy.
I head straight to Josh’s office when I get to Black Hawke headquarters and debrief in person.
“What did you do with Ahmad Al-Kharafi’s body?” Josh asks, looking up from the photo of the target’s deceased body thirty minutes later.
The one I shot.
“Colonel Rockingham is arranging for them all to be sent back to their governments.” I tell him, although I know he was expecting the answer.
It’s his job to ask, so I don’t bother adding as you know.
He nods, then leans back in his chair and studies me. “How’s the arm?”
“Just a scratch.”
“How is it really?”
“Deep. Looks like I’ll be on desk duty after all.” I sip my coffee and place it on the wooden desk between us. “Or reception. Whatever.”
He snorts. “Customer service isn’t your thing, Marshall. And Penny would quit, so no.”
I grin.
“And after?” he adds.
I rub the back of my head and choose my words carefully. “Yeah, I’m done with the desert. I’m sorry. If you don’t have any other positions for me I get it.”
“There was a reason I headhunted you, Adams. You should’ve been in Delta, we both know that. But I got a tip you bowed out.”
My brows shoot up. “From whom?”
Josh studies me, then simply replies, “I know people.”
“Who?” I demand. I didn’t speak to anyone about it, except my brother and I doubt it was him.
“People.” His tone says not to push it.
Fucking secretive bastard.
“Well, I accepted the job, but that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to keep me on. I’m not looking for charity.”
“Good because you aren’t getting any.” Josh tosses a white envelope on the desk between us.
I pick it up and stare back at him.
Josh lifts a brow, and I focus back, ripping it open.
The fuck? I glance up at him.
“Bonus. From the client. It’s yours.”
I toss it back. “No, it’s yours. Your name is on the door.”
“And the bullet ripped open your flesh.” Josh grunts. “It’s not charity. I knew it was coming once we sent the photo, so take the fucking money and go wash some dishes or something.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing dishes.” I take the seven-figure check from his outstretched hand and stare at it a little longer. I was not expecting this and also don’t recognize the name on the paper. “So, back on Ryders’s team?”
Josh nods and leans back in his chair.
“We have some new corporate clients I think you might be happy with. Bit of travel but mostly local private security.”
Perfect.
“Think you can start in three weeks?”
“As long as this thing”—I lift my arm—“doesn’t get infected.”
Josh stands. “Good. Go home and rest for a few more days. Maybe take Trina out for a drink.”
I blink.
He grabs his tablet and glances at me when I don’t reply.
“She lost her ever-loving mind the other night. Fuck her. Marry her. I don’t care. But call her.”
I can’t help my grin.
“You already did. Fuck me. I should’ve known.” Josh shakes his head.
“She was with Ryder when they picked me up from the hospital.” I confess. “We...talked.”
He snorts and opens the door for me to walk through. We both know there was no talking. Aside from some dirty talk, there really wasn’t. And while I was wounded and exhausted, I’m kicking myself for not making her open up.
I head down the hall and Penny walks out of Aidan’s office.
“Hey Penster!” I rub her hair and she slaps her hands in the hair.
“Marshall Adams, you—” She spots my bandage which is visible due to the short sleeved black T-shirt I’m wearing. “What did you do?”
“Fell down the stairs.” I wink.
“Adams.” Adian rounds his desk and crosses his arms as he runs his eyes over me. “You good?”
“Alive. Back on US soil. Life is good.”
It is.
Nothing makes you more grateful for your life than being in a shithole like Iran for a few days.
And being shot at.
That and having incredible sex with a gorgeous woman for hours on end.
“Oh,” Penny says, and I see the moment it clicks, then she rubs my good arm. She’s like the office mom and is old enough to be our mom, too. Somehow she balances out all this testosterone.
“I’m heading home. Guess the drugs are knocking me around. I’ll be back in a few days,” I tell Aidan.
“Yell out if you need anything. Oh, and we’re having a party on Friday night. Gotta fit them in before the twins arrive and our social life comes to a screeching halt. Everyone will be there.”
Including Trina.
Perfect.
I’ll give her space, rest up, and then make my move. This time, with some talking.
It’s time to tame my wild wolf.