Delta: Retribution (9 page)

“Great sex.”

“Great sex.” Her clit throbbed, knowing how close he was. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s a small tub.”

He dropped his pants and stood in front of her, fully erect, long solid shaft palmed in his strong hand. His gorgeous physique towered so close she shuddered. His thighs were ripped. How was that even a sexy part of the body? All that muscle made him a powerhouse. He could drive and thrust. Her legs could wrap around his hard body and feel as though they were meant to be there.

Trace grabbed her out of the tub, making her feel light as the towel wrapped around her. His rough hands dried her haphazardly, feeling her up, massaging her body more than they wicked away water.

“Sexiest thing I’ve ever touched,” he growled in her ear as the towel fell to the floor.

He grabbed his wallet, found a condom, and rolled it on. Again, lifting her as if she were air in the steamy bathroom, he had her pinned against the door. Towels hung behind her, Trace stood in front of her, and her arms locked around his neck. His cock pressed at her entrance. Tenderness made her hurt but still crave more than just a tease, reminding her he’d just been in her, making her moan and come.

“Mar, you’re the only thing that clears my head.”

She nodded. “Me too.”

Her lips found his neck, and she rocked her hips. Trace pushed into her, thrusting, and her mind stilled. Every sore muscle remembered how he felt inside her. She hooked her legs behind him and bit his shoulder, meeting each push into her.

“Goddamn, girl.”

“Harder. Please.”

He slammed into her, deep and destructive. Orgasm built while she clung to his body. His name moaned out of her mouth. The sound of flesh slapping flesh in the humid bathroom, mixed with the intensity of his body pushing into hers, pushed her over the edge. She came hard, climaxing and feeling the ripple of her internal muscles coaxing him to come with her.

He did, straining. Groaning. Pinning her to the wall, calling her name into her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth.

Their labored breaths tangled into a lip-lock. She went lax, and he held her off the ground, letting her stay in his protective hold.

“You should know.” His face inched away. “I’ve fallen for you too.”

***

Trace pinched his eyes closed, loving the weight of her body in his arms. “But I’m a lost cause.”

Her face fell, and he wanted to kick himself. But it was the truth. Doing right by her meant not leading her on.

“I really am sorry, Mar. It’s just… I’m damaged goods.”

She laughed. The sarcastic bite echoed in the bathroom. “Unreal.”

“What?”

Pushing out of his arms, she wrapped herself in a purple robe that looked as soft as she did. “If it’s not one extreme, it’s the other. My dad always said no one would stoop to the level of being with me. That I’m not worthy. I’m really sick of people defining me, making my decisions for me.”

“I’m not making a decision for you.”

“No. You’re just telling me what’s not an option. Same difference.”

He dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling and feeling like a dick. “Look…”

“I’m looking.” She brushed her hair and stared at him in a misty mirror. The nonchalance killed him. “Let me tell you about me. I made up a fake name because I was working on a classified project, and I had no idea what else to do to keep myself safe.” She shrugged. “I mean, I could walk around with a gun.”

“You own a gun?”

“No.”

“I don’t get it.”

She slumped against the sink. “I wrote a paper on biological weapons that was picked up by a journal. Some super special government person saw it and sweet-talked me into working with them. Made me feel so… smart. They capitalized on it. On me. The whole thing scares me. Before I was taken, I could see how I was vulnerable. They didn’t care. No one cared. Except my stupid father, who laughed and said my intelligence would kill me. He said that I was weak.”

A boulder cropped up in his throat. “I’d never call you weak.”

“But you do call me fairy-tale names because I—”

He shook his head. “Because you leave me when I least want you to.”

She shrank in on herself. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your problem.”

She scowled at him in the mirror.

He continued, “I think you’re trying so hard to fix what your dad thought about you, to convince yourself that you’re strong, that you failed to realize you kick ass.”

Marlena scoffed. “Now who’s crazy?”

“Why did you go to my hotel room in Germany?”

Her brow furrowed. “Because you’re hot.”

That made him smile, but it wasn’t the truth. At least, not the whole truth. “Tell me.”

She fussed with her hair, tying it, smoothing it, and taking it out again.

“Marlena?”

“I just…” She rolled her eyes. “Wanted to feel desired. Wanted to know if I was so awful.”

“What did you figure out?”

She turned and looked up through her eyelashes. “Not so awful, I guess.”

“Woman, you came alive like nothing I’d ever seen before.” He shook his head, still buck-ass naked, and his cock twitched thinking about that night. “If anyone could make me want normal, it’d be you. I don’t think I’ve ever been more of myself than I am when inside you.”

“Damn it, Trace.” She snagged a towel and tossed it on him. “Don’t say that. Stop saying the reasons why we work and then saying no. I already walked away. You’re the one who’s hurting me. You’re the one fucking with me. It’s selfish. Got it? Get your head out of your butt or get out.”

She stormed out, slamming the door. It bounced off the wall, leaving him standing in her bathroom holding her towel. He wrapped the towel around his waist and trailed after her, a man on a mission. “Mar.”

There was no answer, even though he could hear her slamming through her closet.

“Mar.”

“What?” She slammed both hands against his bare chest, and he caught them. “What do you have to say?”

Good question. What could he possibly offer that wasn’t a joke?

She laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Let go of me. You should go.”

“No.”

She pulled back, and he released her wrists. His heart fell, knowing he let go of more than just her hands. She spun, purple housecoat billowing out, giving him a glance at what he wanted all over again. “It’s just—damn, never mind.”

Storming back over, she slammed her balled fist into his chest. “You are driving me insane! I’m so done with this. Go the hell away.”

“Have dinner with me?”

Her eyes looked as though they were a breath away from popping out of her head. “Excuse me?”

Where the hell had that beauty come from? “Dinner. Food. Walking around or whatever people do on dates.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Damn, Mar. I can’t win with you.”

“I’m really not that hard to figure out.” She pushed her shoulders back, retied her robe, and stormed the three feet it took to get back to her closet. “Go away.”

“I’ll be back here at seven.”

“Not interested.”

“See you then, Cinderella.” He walked over and kissed her cheek, completely mind-fucked and unsure why the hell he was feeling like a rock star.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Trace cracked his neck as he closed his car door. He hadn’t been on a date since high school, and those weren’t so much
dates
, but more like ways to get a girl alone. A date. What to do? He could hit up a restaurant, but that wasn’t necessarily his style, and dinner seemed predictable. Paintball? Maybe not her style, though he remembered her training that assault rifle at him in the jungle, and she had a pretty solid aim. If they went to a movie, he couldn’t talk to her. Or… Man, he was overthinking this date thing.

His phone rang, and he sighed, answering it. “Hey, man.”

“What are you up to?” Javier had to be at a bar and more than a couple deep.

“Heading toward you.” Trace turned the engine over and pulled out of Marlena’s driveway. “Pour House?”

“Yup—hey!” Whoever Javier was talking to, it wasn’t Trace. The call ended.

The Pour House was becoming their temporary stomping grounds while they were stuck stateside. The place worked for him. The crowd was right. They brewed their own ale, and the kitchen could do more than deep-fry a basket of chicken.

When he pulled in, there were the other Titan-loaned vehicles lined up there. They were blacked-out chargers and SUVs. Javier, Ryder, and Brock were somewhere in the dark barroom, playing pool probably. So that was how they kicked it when they were between jobs. How’d Titan’s main team do? Brock had told him something about cookouts and time spent at Jared’s wife’s gun range, aptly named GUNS. They were older. Delta was a much younger crew. Almost all of the men were his age and holding on to their own issues. Delta jived together. The more time they spent together, the more they operated like a well-oiled team. And no one had a girl.

Except Brock.

Rumor had it that he had a wife and family and had no problem going home between assignments. But even with that, he didn’t seem overly burdened. Trace’s chest felt tight thinking about it. But a different feeling curled around his stomach. When Delta was given the go-ahead to roam, he’d be on the next flight to hell’s backyard to find his brother’s tags in between jobs… and Mar would be in the United States.

The Pour House’s sign loomed overhead, beckoning him into a smoky oasis. Trace pushed the glass door open and walked into the dimly lit, rowdy crowd. He nodded to a couple of guys who he’d seen before, and he found his way to the back. Just as he’d guessed, Brock and Javier were shooting pool. Ryder wasn’t too far away, with what had to be a waitress sitting on his knee.
Crazy fucking Aussie
.

The waitress popped off Ryder’s lap and headed over. “Thirsty, honey?”

“Something dark in a long neck.”

“Sure thing.” She flitted off with a wave to Ryder.

“Jesus, dude.”

He laughed. “I like America. America likes me. What can I say?”

Javier shook his head. “Like the country ever mattered.”

“True enough.”

“I need some help.” Trace walked over and leaned against the wall. “I’ve got a date.”

Javier missed his shot, and the cue ball jumped off the table. “What?”

Brock crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent but looking amused with a down-turned grin.

“So how’d you get suckered into something like that?” Javier drained his beer while Brock took his turn clearing the table. “Son of a bitch, Gamble.”

“I’ve got next.” Trace wanted to play Brock. It’d be good to get a read on the guy. Even if he liked him, there was still a lot to learn. “I did the asking, so no sucker here.”

Ryder laughed. “Well, that’s cute.”

Brock nodded to him after he finished up with Javier. “What do you have planned?”

“That’s my problem.”

“You’re talking about that girl, aren’t you? The college kid?”

“Yeah, her.”

“Kinda young, isn’t she?” Ryder asked.

“A couple years younger than me.”

His buddy shook his head. “Man, war will age you.”

A couple of them nodded. Trace felt double his age sometimes, mostly when thinking about Michael and all the fun they’d had before they joined up and ended up on two separate SEAL teams. Life had been a party until then. They’d killed it in high school. Shit, that was just a few years ago… but it felt like decades.

Javier whistled. “Girl’s smokin’ hot, bro.”

“Don’t I know it.” Trace cleared his head from the walk down memory lane. He wasn’t sure he liked Mar’s hotness quotient to be up for discussion. “Dates aren’t really my thing.”

“Stability isn’t really your thing.” Ryder walked over to the table. “Dates are for stable, sane people.”

“You should talk.”

Ryder shrugged. “I’m not taking a pretty sorority girl on a date.”

“She’s not in a sorority.”

“And that’s not the point, my friend.”

No shit
. He scrubbed his face. “God, I’m getting caught up in this girl.”

The waitress arrived with his beer, and Trace stepped up to the pool table. Brock broke, ran the table, and left him with a couple of crap angles when it was his turn. Brock had a knack for staying in tune with their conversation and keeping his focus on the game. Trace sank his shot, missed the eight ball, and finished off his beer. Funny how something so boring could relax him. So, burying himself in Marlena wasn’t the only option, after all.

He nodded to the guys as the waitress cleared off the tables. “Alright, I’m out.”

“What’s the final verdict?” Ryder asked. “Where are you taking her?”

“Shit if I know.”