Black Ops Brotherhood: Tightrope Part 31

If his first kiss was any indication of things to come, she would soon be swept under by his ferociousness. She'd learned early he'd become a pa.s.sionate lover, and she'd learned to read him even better since they had embarked on their new life, antic.i.p.ating his needs and moods. She understood his need for release. The stress of their daily work lives was the very reason she needed it, too. But he was still her Danny, and whenever he kissed her, the sensual contact never failed to shake her to her very core. This time was different; she allowed him to leave her breathless. There was no mistaking his message-he would be in control for the rest of the night. For a moment, it made her uncomfortable. She instinctively reverted to her role and tried to a.s.sume the power she'd just given up. She pushed on his broad shoulders in an attempt to take the lead, and he nipped at her lip making her squeak in surprise.

"My way," he growled. "Relax, babe. Let me make you crazy," he whispered as he nibbled her earlobe.

Tiny shock waves went through her as his lips, tongue, and teeth danced over her throat and neck. He knew how sensitive her throat was, and he showed her no mercy as he exploited her weakness. She drew her hands over his back and pulled him closer, wanting to make herself a part of him. Early on, she'd learned that when he touched her, he'd become a master at building her antic.i.p.ation, making her needy almost to the point of desperation for him to move faster, and bringing her to the bliss that he dangled just out of her reach.

Wanting her skin against his, she tugged at her clothes to remove them. He swept her sleep shorts away as she quickly removed her tank top. Her brain went into overload as his warm mouth sucked in her nipple, and his fingers stroked the other. Arching her back into his hands and mouth, her nipples beaded to stiff points to meet his touch. Every nip of his teeth and flick of his tongue sent a jolt straight down to her p.u.s.s.y, making her gasp and moan. The blood rushing to her engorged s.e.x made her ache with want.

Digging her nails into his rock-hard biceps, she thrust her hips indicating her desire for him to bury his c.o.c.k b.a.l.l.s deep inside of her, now. He chuckled and moved to the other breast to start his maddening rhythm of nip, flick, suck, kiss, over again. Her senses heightened as he edged her on as her c.u.n.t clenched emptiness over and over. The desire to be filled by his c.o.c.k quickly reached a zenith. Any moment now, she'd come, and it wasn't the way she wanted.

"Danny, please," she whispered breathlessly.

Grabbing his muscular a.s.s, she spread her legs wider indicating her invitation to be f.u.c.ked.

Rocking his hips and finding the entrance to her eager p.u.s.s.y, he teased her.

"What is it, babe? What do you want?"

At the moment, she couldn't string a coherent sentence together, and she growled in frustration when he moved away. Like breathing, primal instinct took her over, and the need to have him stroking his c.o.c.k in and out of her weeping p.u.s.s.y had become a compulsion. His fingers brushed her c.l.i.t, and the unexpected shock made her jerk and cry out in response.

"Ask me," he said, sliding a thick finger inside her c.u.n.t. A whimper was all the response she could manage as she closed her eyes in a plea for release. "Eyes on me, babe," he said. Opening her eyes, she moaned when he took his finger out of her p.u.s.s.y and licked it clean. He kissed her, thoroughly demanding her surrender as his tongue invaded her mouth, and he sucked the very air from her lungs. When he stopped she found herself breathless and needier than ever. "Do you want me?" he asked as he rocked his hips forward, his c.o.c.k finding her entrance again.

He continued to tease her, breaching her p.u.s.s.y with the head of his c.o.c.k. He nipped at her chin for a response.

"Yes, oh G.o.d, yes," she begged.

His sensual chuckle sent a tremor through her. Every nerve ending in her body tingled as he pushed a little farther. She deliberately clenched her p.u.s.s.y, coaxing his c.o.c.k inside and arched her back to pull him in deeper. The sudden thrust when Danny drove himself deep inside her caught her by surprise. With the first plunge of his c.o.c.k, the nerves in her body snapped, and she screamed the release that hit her like a tidal wave. He f.u.c.ked her with a steady cadence as she squirmed underneath him. For a moment, she blacked out from the overstimulation, but when she floated back, he was still going with his fixed tempo. He slid his arms under her knees to raise them and went deeper.

Their thighs slapped together as his thrusts became harder and more urgent. From this position, he hit her sensitive G-spot, and she soon found herself on the edge of another bone-melting climax. He groaned as he picked up the pace of his steady f.u.c.king, and she dug her nails into his hands as a second o.r.g.a.s.m coursed through her. She involuntarily closed her eyes and arched her back. Bright lights exploded when her muscles locked in bliss a second time. The sudden impact of his climax hit him as she rode her wave to completion. He ground his hips against her a.s.s and gripped her legs as his c.o.c.k pulsed inside of her. His body relaxed, and he smiled at her, releasing her legs. She held her arms out to him, wanting him to cover her with his body. She rubbed her cheek against his as she exhaled.

"That was amazing," he said, rubbing his nose against hers.

"Yes," she whispered.

Rio melted as he kissed her long and slow. For the first time in her life, she'd been owned by a man. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her because it had been the right man. He knew how to mix the right amount of sensual torture with mind-bending pleasure. Her feral tiger had rocked her world to its very foundation.

"I love you so much, babe."

"We can do this more often; I don't always have to tie you up," she said, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

Laughing as he nibbled at her neck, it sent a shiver through her tingling nerve endings.

"I like being tied up, remember?"

Chapter 25.

USS George Washington, CVN 73 Norfolk Naval Base, Virginia November 3, 2010/1537 Zulu Cobra arrived at Naval Station Norfolk, and a cold, damp Virginia wind greeted him as he strolled across the dock to where the USS George Washington was moored. She'd been preparing for deployment to the Persian Gulf within the next thirty days. He walked up the gangplank to the quarterdeck, and when he arrived, the petty officer manning the post saluted.

"Commander, sir, can I help you?"

Returning the salute, he unzipped his jacket and handed the petty officer his orders.

"I need to report in to the captain."

The sailor quickly scanned the orders he'd been handed and jerked his head up after a few seconds. Cobra watched the young man glance at the pocket on the left side of his uniform blouse and then back at him.

"The captain? Is he on board or should I come back?" Cobra asked.

"Yes, sir. He's here. I'll ring him."

It was apparent by the young man's reaction the crew of the Washington wasn't expecting a SEAL to be a.s.signed as mission commander. He turned away and looked out at the dock. It had been almost twelve years since he'd been aboard a ship and preparing for a cruise. He recalled what shipboard life was like and really didn't relish taking a six-month cruise this late in his career. A few things had changed since his last days on a ship because there were cameras everywhere he seemed to look. The poor sailors on this cruise wouldn't even be able to dig a wedgie out of their a.s.ses without someone seeing it. He wondered if the security had been amped up for the new weapons system she would be sailing with, or if this was a side effect of all of the war on terrorism over the last ten years. His mind drifted to the team he'd selected as he turned back to the quarterdeck.

"Commander Corbin?"

Lance looked to where his name had been called. A woman in navy camouflage stepped forward and saluted.

"Chief Petty Officer Davies, sir," she said.

He returned the salute. "Chief, I need to see the captain. Are you able to make that happen?"

"Yes, sir, I'll be your yeoman while you're aboard. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the captain and then show you around, sir."

"Very good. Lead the way."

Following Chief Davies down the narrow pa.s.sageways that led into the huge carrier, he recalled how he could find his way blindfolded through the miles of pa.s.sageways that ran within an aircraft carrier. Now, he was grateful for a guide because he'd already lost his bearings.

Christ, get your s.h.i.t together, Lance.

He could find his way through choppy seas to a port, blow an objective to h.e.l.l, and then swim back out a few miles, all in the stygian blackness of a moonless night, but here he would absolutely get lost. As they proceeded deeper into the vessel, the surroundings changed indicating they were getting into a much nicer section of the ship. They were close to the command section. The chief stopped in front of an office half the size of the one he occupied at Randolph.

"This will be your office, sir, and I sit right outside. The captain's office is up the pa.s.sageway and to the left."

As they turned down the pa.s.sageway, Lance had been distracted from making mental notes of landmarks and fell slightly behind. The chief turned the corner, and as he followed behind, he ran into someone and papers fell to the deck.

"Sorry," she said as she bent to pick them up.

Lance knelt and helped the woman pick up the flurry of papers that had fallen but stilled when he saw the woman's face. The sailor looked at him, and her jaw went slack. He hadn't expected to see her so soon. She quickly recovered and stood. She hadn't changed from the last time he'd seen her. She still had the high cheeks and big, soft brown eyes. Inhaling he remembered her tropical scent and the very first time he'd seen her-Christmas. She'd been sitting next to a fireplace wrapping presents. When she stood he remembered thinking how great she looked in a red sweater that hugged her body and jeans that set off her a.s.s perfectly when she bent over to put the presents under the tree. Her smile was brighter than the lights that surrounded her. As he handed her the papers, he noticed she was looking at him as if she'd just seen a ghost.

"Here you go," he said.

"Thank you, sir," she said as she took the papers and brushed past him.

Watching her walk quickly down the pa.s.sageway, all of those old memories suddenly hit him. He knew he'd eventually see her again, but it was too soon, and he hadn't had a chance to brace himself. He didn't know how long he stood there watching her disappear down the maze of the ship.

"Commander?"

"Sorry, chief," he said, redirecting his attention back to his yeoman.

"Sir, this way..."

"The commander that walked past us..."

"She's the Reactor Department head, Commander Wilson."

While he waited to see the captain, the memory of that Christmas flooded his mind. He and Rafe were young lieutenants who'd just come back from a mission in Africa a few days before the holiday. He'd found himself stuck on Christmas Eve because his flight home to Oregon had been canceled due to weather. He'd been perfectly content to stay at his apartment near Little Creek, but Rafe talked him into going to Reston to spend Christmas with his family.

Rafe had suggested that maybe he could get a flight out of Dulles quicker, and he reluctantly consented. When they got to Rafe's parents' place, he instantly regretted agreeing to spend the holidays with the Wilsons. For some reason, he'd forgotten about the charmed and privileged life Rafe had. His father was a United States Congressman, and his mother was well-known for her philanthropic and humanitarian charities and foundations. Lance had grown up camping and fishing near the Elkhorn and Wallowa Mountains in Oregon in a working cla.s.s family. Rafe had an appointment to the United States Naval Academy handed to him on a silver platter. Lance needed a boxing scholarship to get him through college.

The Christmas he'd be going home to didn't compare to the one he walked into when he entered the Wilson home. He recalled following Rafe to the family room, seeing the tree with all the presents, and wanting to turn around and walk the h.e.l.l out because he didn't belong there.

Then he saw her, and he knew there would be no way he'd leave.

His dive buddy's twin sister had to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. She'd been cordial and welcoming along with the rest of his family, and because she was so nice, he'd been ashamed of the dirty thoughts that ran through his head about her. But those thoughts ended and a stronger feeling took hold the next day as he watched the Wilsons open presents. He sat apart not wanting to spoil their celebration, and all he could think about were all of the devious, sinful things he could do to the woman that had become the reason for his all-night b.o.n.e.r.

"Come closer, Lance." Cheryl waved to him.

He held up his hand and shook his head. "I'm just waiting for a flight home."

"I think Santa left you a couple of things, too."

"What? Oh no." He took the three beautifully wrapped packages she offered him.

"Go ahead, man, open them up. I want to see what Santa got you after her daddy drove her around for three hours last night, looking for some place that was still open."

She punched her brother in the arm. "Be quiet."

He opened the first package and couldn't believe what he saw when he unwrapped the tiny green box inside. It was full of fishing flies, all laid out in neat rows. There had to have been at least fifty different types of flies that were perfect for trout fishing. How did she know that fly-fishing was his escape? He'd grown up near some of the most sought-after streams in the country, and whenever he needed to think, he'd fish. Since becoming a SEAL, those jaunts to escape the pressure of his job had become few and far between. Unfortunately, business was good, and he'd been one busy SEAL. He looked up at Cheryl, shocked that a woman he'd barely said five words to had already figured out something about him that meant so much.

"Don't sit there looking stupid, open the other ones," Rafe said.

Lance cleared his throat and opened the other two. The next had been a new fly-rod, and the third was a new reel. He'd been d.a.m.n near outfitted enough to fish for trout in the mostly frozen Potomac.

"How did you know?" he asked her.

"How does Santa know anything? He gets a letter. Come on, man, let's get some chow. I'm hungry," Rafe said, tossing the box of flies onto the table.

For the rest of the morning, he watched Cheryl. He wanted to understand why she'd taken the time to figure out what he did, what he would want and appreciate. His own family didn't take that kind of time anymore, so why would a total stranger do that? He recalled what else Rafe had said, that she and Mr. Wilson had spent three hours driving around last night. He didn't remember them leaving, then again he'd been upstairs with Rafe drinking beer and watching Die Hard.

He caught her alone later that day.

"Cheryl, uh...thanks for the presents, but you didn't have to do that."

"I'm glad you liked them."

"Liked them? They were perfect! How did you know?"

There was that smile again and he knew he was in trouble. He didn't believe in love at first sight. Like everything else, a good, strong relationship was something that took time and hard work. He didn't have that kind of time, and he sure as h.e.l.l didn't want to work that hard. But this woman did things to him, things he couldn't explain, and it scared the h.e.l.l out of him. For her, he'd work his a.s.s off and do whatever it took to see her smile again.

"Rafe talks about you a lot, and I think one time he said something about someplace where you guys had been, and you tried to fish with a stick and string," she said. He kept himself from groaning because she giggled, and the bubbly sound vibrated straight to his c.o.c.k. "He said something about you liking to fly-fish. Last night, my dad and I finally found this old general store near Potomac Falls that was open. In the back corner there was all this fishing stuff. I guess it was meant to be."

"It was a surprise and thank you. It's the best thing I've gotten in a long time."

"I hope you see your family soon."

G.o.d, she was so sweet and innocent. Unlike her brother, she was a genuinely nice person with a big heart. Rafe could be a cold-blooded a.s.shole, and generosity wasn't in his vocabulary unless it suited him. Lance wanted to wrap her up and hide her away from the world and the evil he knew existed. He didn't want the virtue in her spoiled. He wanted it to remain pure and untouched. He completely understood why Rafe had been so protective of her. An immoral b.a.s.t.a.r.d would take advantage of such goodness and kindness. He remembered that she was a naval officer, too, and had graduated from the academy a year after Rafe. How the h.e.l.l did she remain so untainted after being around all those dirty, salty sailors aboard a ship? Then it hit him; he was in the presence of something he didn't know existed any more, a rare jewel, a genuine...lady. He'd never meet anyone like her again, and if he didn't s.n.a.t.c.h her up, someone else would.

"Is there some way I can show my appreciation? Maybe return the favor? Take you out to dinner or something?"

There was that giggle again. "How about a friendly hug?"

That offer had been more dangerous than traversing a minefield at midnight. He opened his arms and she wrapped hers around his waist. The moment he pulled her close, he felt as if he'd just gotten caught in a riptide and sucked under. He inhaled to calm his racing heart and realized he'd made another mistake-she smelled delicious, tropical and scrumptious. He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until she moved away. He glanced at the doorway and saw the murderous look on his best friend's face.

That was one thing Rafe made clear from the get-go to anyone who met his sister; she was off f.u.c.king limits. Period. He'd sworn on many an occasion he'd kill any motherf.u.c.ker that laid a finger on his sister. None of that mattered now. For this woman, Lance would take on the meanest son of a b.i.t.c.h he knew, his own dive buddy, Rafe "Whiskey" Wilson.

"Merry Christmas, Lance," she said as she brushed past her brother.

Rafe entered the room. He looked behind him to see if she'd gone because a s.h.i.tstorm was about to hit his Christmas day.

"It wasn't what it looked like-"

"Cobra, I will tie your slithering a.s.s in a knot and chop you into little pieces if I ever find out you touched my sister again. The only thing saving your a.s.s right now is that I heard her offer. You sure as h.e.l.l better not make good on that dinner date. Do you read me?"

"What the f.u.c.k Whiskey? She's of age, and she was being nice. So was I."

"I've got eyes motherf.u.c.ker. I see the way you look at her."

"This was your idea. I told you I was perfectly fine waiting out the storm at Little Creek. Don't bust my b.a.l.l.s because you're seeing something that ain't there. She's a nice girl. Quit making this out to be so dirty."

"I know what a s.k.a.n.ky b.a.s.t.a.r.d you are. I know your type, and my sister ain't it."

"f.u.c.king get me to Dulles. I'll sleep in the airport."

"Keep your f.u.c.king d.i.c.kbeaters to yourself, and we won't have any more problems," Rafe said as he turned away.

A voice drew him back to the present.

"Commander Corbin? Interesting reading?"

Thankfully, he'd been standing in front of the dedication plaque for the carrier. He turned and saw the captain of the ship had finally decided to make an appearance. He followed the man to his office and took a seat.

"I just got off the phone with the admiral. He's explained to me why I drew a Navy Special Warfare mission commander for the cruise."