Chapter Thirteen

 

 

Hamilton and Taggart were waiting for him when Zaid stepped out of the O.R. back at Bagram. It had been a long, shitty night, and while he wanted a shower and a hot meal before hitting his bunk, he wanted to see Jaliya more.

If he was right, she’d be blaming herself for what happened, even though it wasn’t her fault, and she hadn’t been the only person involved in the taskforce’s decision to green light the SF team’s op.

“Well?” Taggart said, hands on hips.

Zaid had tended to two of the wounded on the flight back to base, and stayed with them right up until the anesthetist put them under in the operating room. “One will probably lose his lower leg.” He’d done everything he could to stop the soldier from bleeding out during the flight here. But the bullets had shredded the calf and tibia so badly that no orthopedic surgeon would be able to put it back together.

Taggart cursed and shook his head. “And the others?”

“Still in surgery.” He stripped off the bloodstained latex gloves and tossed them into a nearby trashcan, then grabbed a handful of paper towels and started scrubbing at the blood smeared on the front of his uniform. Little good it did him.

“What are their chances?” asked Hamilton.

Giving up on trying to wipe the blood off him, Zaid tossed the paper towels and stripped the fatigue jacket off. “Good. They’re all expected to make a full recovery. We’ll know more in a few hours. Surgeon said he should be done by oh-five-hundred.”

“You go clean up,” Taggart said. “I’ll get an update and pass it on to you if anything happens.”

Zaid inclined his head. “Thanks, I—” He broke off when Jaliya stepped around the corner and paused. Her dark gaze darted between the three of them before settling on him.

She twisted her fingers together, the haunted look on her face twisting his heart. “The third critically wounded. Have you heard anything?”

Ah, shit. Taggart had said she’d been in the TOC the entire time. She’d seen it unfold in real time. He nodded, wishing he could somehow shield her from the truth, or at least soften the blow.

“Is he…”

He really didn’t want to say it in front of Hamilton and Taggart, but he wouldn’t lie to her. “He didn’t make it,” he said gently.

She stared at him for a split second, then her expression turned stricken and she whirled away.

“Jaliya—”

She’d already disappeared around the corner.

“Shit,” he muttered, and started after her.

“Gimme that,” Hamilton said, holding out his hand for Zaid’s bloody uniform jacket. “She doesn’t need to see it.”

Zaid tossed it to him and went after her. She was already halfway across the road when he shoved the front door open. “Jaliya!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow as she held up a hand to ward him off and kept hurrying away.

Dammit. “Jaliya, wait.” He ran faster, barely noticing the cold, his only concern for her.

She broke into a jog and ripped the door open to her temporary quarters. It slammed in his face as he reached it.

Cursing, Zaid wrenched it open. The hallway was empty. She must already be in her room.

He kept his steps quiet as he hurried across the linoleum floor and stopped at the door to her room. He knocked softly. “Jaliya.”

No answer.

“Jaliya.”

“No.”

To hell with that. She was hurting and there was no way he was walking away from her right now, even if his actions confirmed to Taggart and Hamilton that they were together.

Pulling a ballpoint pen from his pocket, he took it apart, then set about picking the lock on her door. Within thirty seconds he had it unlocked and pushed it open.

Jaliya spun away from him to face the far wall, her spine rigid, her long, inky hair spilling down her back in thick waves. Her hijab lay crumpled on the floor next to her bed, and with each choppy intake of breath, her shoulders shook.

Zaid’s heart squeezed. “Hey.”

She didn’t respond, didn’t move as he shut the door and crossed the room, but flinched when he put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t,” she begged, shrugging away as though she couldn’t bear his touch.

No. No way he’d let her suffer through this alone. He’d vowed not to get involved with anyone, but it was way too late for that now. She needed him, end of story.

“Come here,” he murmured. Ignoring her protests, he spun her around and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to his chest.

 

JALIYA’S INITIAL REACTION was to struggle. She started to bring her hands up, ready to shove him away. Zaid just held her tighter, those strong, hard arms banded around her back. And when he slipped one hand into her hair to bring her face against his shoulder, something inside her broke.

She bit her lip as a sob tried to tear free. Instead of pushing away she burrowed closer, reaching around his ribs to grip handfuls of his sand-colored tactical shirt.

“It’s my fault,” she gasped out, speaking the terrible, painful truth aloud.

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is. I sent them out there.”

“A dozen other people signed off on the op too, including their CO. They all knew to expect armed resistance.”

“But I got it wrong.” Her voice was muffled by his chest. “I didn’t realize how outnumbered they’d be.”

“You couldn’t have. No one could have. Shit happens all the time on ops. They were as prepared as they could be, and you gave them the best intel you had available.”

“I got them attacked, and some of them killed. And The Jackal wasn’t even there,” she finished, her voice shredding as she pressed her face against his pec.

She was directly responsible for those men suffering and dying, and it confirmed her worst fear. Her father was right; she didn’t have what it took to do this job, and it had taken losing those men for her to get past her stupid fucking pride and realize it.

“You didn’t get them killed. Every one of those men knew the risks when they went out there tonight. And every single one of them would do it all again tomorrow. It’s their job.” Just like it was his. “They signed up for this. Don’t take their bravery away from them. They died doing what they believed in.”

He laid his cheek on the top of her head, one hand stroking through her hair. She didn’t deserve the comfort or his care, but he didn’t seem to understand that. “We all know the risks and what can happen out there. It could just have easily been my team when we went out to search our target tonight.”

“Oh God, don’t. Don’t say that.” She hugged him closer, unable to bear the thought of him being wounded or killed in the line of duty, much less on an op planned based solely on her intel. “I couldn’t take it if anything happened to you. You hear me?”

“I hear you. And here I am, safe and sound.”

Yes. This time. And as selfish as it made her, she was so damn grateful he hadn’t been one of the men bleeding out on the flight back to base.

His arms were so strong around her. Protecting and comforting her. Somehow he’d escaped injury during the dangerous rescue and was holding her now.

Jaliya sucked in a shuddering breath and fought to stop the burn of tears, pulling his scent into her nose. Sweat and soap and…Zaid. She’d remember his scent for the rest of her life.

Need sparked low in her gut. There was no stopping it, and this time, she didn’t feel like fighting it.

She’d been angry at first when he’d followed her here and barged in. Now she was glad. She needed a distraction from the turmoil inside her, and he was certainly…a huge distraction.

It was more than that though, even if she wanted to convince herself otherwise. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted him, and the attraction was growing stronger no matter how much she tried to convince herself to squelch it.

They had such a short amount of time left together—he could be sent elsewhere at a moment’s notice. And every time he and his teammates went outside the wire, there was a chance that they wouldn’t come back at all.

Jaliya shuddered and pulled in another deep breath, savoring the feel of him. She was tired of fighting the pull between them. Sick to death of repressing her needs and desires because of a deep-seated sense of guilt and some stupid vow she’d made to herself years ago to stay celibate until she at least got engaged.

The only man she wanted was right here in front of her, and she was done pretending she could live without satisfying the raging need he ignited in her blood.

Gathering her courage, she eased her grip on his shirt, flattening her hands against his broad back, and raised her head to look into his face. His gold-flecked eyes searched hers, one hand smoothing gently over her hair. The concern and tenderness on his face undid her.

Pushing up on tiptoe, she angled her head and fused her mouth to his.

Zaid made a low, hungry sound in the back of his throat and fisted his hand in her hair, forcing her head back more as he took over. Desire exploded, blasting throughout her body in a dizzying wave.

All that mattered was this. Them. Finally being able to give reign to the hunger she’d been suppressing, finally getting to taste and touch the man she’d been fantasizing about for so many weeks.

They were plastered together from chest to groin, but it wasn’t good enough. She gripped the sides of his head in her hands and pushed her tongue against his, conveying her urgency and desperation without a single word. He didn’t pull back or ask questions, just grabbed her by the hips and hoisted her off her feet.

Jaliya moaned at the show of raw male strength and wound her legs around his waist, stopping the kiss and releasing his head only long enough to peel her shirt over her head and fling it behind her. Then she sought his sexy mouth once more, vaguely aware that he was moving them backward.

With one hand holding the back of her head he bent forward, lowering her onto the hard cot she’d been sleeping on the past few nights. She kept hold of his shoulders and tugged him down on top of her. Zaid groaned deep in his chest as he stretched out on top of her, his tongue sliding against hers.

Her breath caught and sensation zinged through her when his weight lowered onto her, pressing her down against the blankets. The pressure of his erection between her open thighs made her shudder, the acute ache sharpening. Then he nipped at her bottom lip and kissed a path over her jaw to the side of her neck.

“Sweetheart, are you sure?” he murmured.

She loved that he’d asked. “Yes.” She needed him. Didn’t want him to stop, no matter what she’d said before.

Jaliya tipped her head back to give him more room, gasping at the wet stroke of his tongue and the scrape of his scruff against her sensitive skin. By the time he reached the base of her throat her breasts felt swollen, her nipples tight and aching.

Dragging his tongue across the upper swell of her right breast, he shifted to his knees to straddle her and reached beneath her to undo her bra. She shrugged out of it and tossed it aside, a thrill rushing through her when he paused to stare at her naked breasts.

His eyes darkened and his jaw grew taut. Those big strong hands slid up to cup the tender flesh, his thumbs sweeping gently over the rigid peaks. A moan slipped out of her as pleasure shot through her. She arched her back, silently asking for more, and she bit her lip as he lowered his dark head.

The moment his lips closed around her nipple she grabbed hold of his head and bit back a whimper. His hot, wet tongue circled it, soothing and tantalizing as he sucked. She locked her legs around his and lifted her hips, desperate for more pressure between her legs.

But Zaid apparently wasn’t in the mood to be rushed. His hands held her in place as he sucked and stroked and teased her nipple, then switched to the other.

“Zaid,” she panted, wanting so much more and impatient to get it.

He made a low sound and continued to torment her, ignoring her restless movements. Finally, when she couldn’t stand the burn a moment longer, he sat up and reached for the top of her pants.

She helped him, undoing the button and yanking down the zipper while he unlaced her boots and tugged them off. Shoving her pants down her legs, she kicked them off, leaving her in just her panties. Before he could touch her she reached for the hem of his T-shirt, needing to be skin on skin with him.

He reached one hand between his shoulder blades and peeled it over his head and she stopped, spellbound by the ridges and hollows of muscle beneath the dusting of black hair and smooth, bronze skin. Setting her hands on the curves of his pecs, she explored him, drinking him in, reveling in the sheer masculine strength of his body.

“God, when you look at me like that…” He trailed off and grasped her hands in his. Jaliya looked up at him, her heart tripping when she saw the naked longing on his face.

Without a word she curled a hand around his nape and brought his mouth to hers. Zaid gobbled her up in a greedy, savage kiss that thrilled her to her toes.

She was so wet, on fire for him, and the ache between her legs was driving her insane. Her fingers tangled in the waistband of his pants but he drew them away and pushed her flat on the cot as he came down on one elbow beside her.

His hand drifted up her bare calf to her inner thigh, his light touch sending shivers through her. He angled his head to watch and inched the pads of his fingers over the smooth skin of her thigh, stopping at the edge of her panties.

She held her breath, waiting, praying for him to touch her where she needed it most, and finally he brushed his fingertips over her covered mound. She hissed air between her teeth and closed her eyes, rocking her hips up to meet his hand.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered against her neck, hooking his fingers into her panties and slowly dragging them down her legs. The wash of cool air against her heated folds increased the pulse there.

“Then do it,” she said, her voice unsteady enough to take the bite out of the demand.

One side of his mouth kicked up and his gaze settled on hers as the heat of his palm covered her mound.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip, the slight amount of pressure he applied the sweetest torment. And then he began gliding his fingers up and down the seam of her folds and she could barely breathe, a tiny whimper breaking free of her throat. She needed this, needed it so badly she ached.

The cot shifted. She forced her heavy eyelids apart in time to see him ease onto his knees beside the cot, his expression absorbed as he continued to stroke and tease the slick flesh between her legs. He was so unbelievably sexy like that, intent on his task, utterly in control despite the flush of arousal on the tops of his cheeks and the ridge of his erection pressing against the front of his pants.

He eased a finger into her just as his thumb swept across the swollen knot of her clit.

“Ah!” she gasped, automatically lifting her hips as pleasure seared across her nerve endings.

“You’re all soft and wet for me,” he whispered, repeating the motion before pulling his finger out and adding a second.

The sweet pressure inside her expanded, her clit throbbing now. “Zaid…”

“Stay still,” he commanded, his free hand gripping her outer thigh and shifting it to open her wider. Holding her immobile.

Her legs trembled, all the muscles in her belly pulling taut as he lowered his head toward her. She closed her eyes and grasped the blanket in both hands, managed to stifle a cry of mingled relief and passion when the heat of his mouth touched her most intimate flesh. He kissed her there, his fingers moving slow and steady as his tongue swirled hot, melting circles around her swollen clit.

Oh God, oh God…

She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe as his slow, erotic kisses and caresses drove her out of her mind, pushing her higher and higher. Then his free hand eased up her ribs to cradle her breast, his fingers squeezing her hardened nipple just as his lips firmed around her bundle of nerves and sucked gently.

A breathless mewl broke free as the orgasm loomed, her entire body strung taut, thighs trembling. His tongue slid across her clit, his fingers rubbing against some magic spot inside of her while he played with her nipple, and suddenly she couldn’t take any more.

She released the blankets and grabbed his head, holding him to her as her climax hit, wave after sweet wave of heated pleasure flowing through her entire body. Heart thundering against her ribs, she sagged against the cot with a ragged groan and tugged at his head to make him stop. He paused only long enough to press one last kiss to her slick folds before lifting his head, and the gleam of victory in his eyes was unmistakable.

She had no words. But as sated and relaxed as she was, she still wanted more.

Sitting up, she sought his lips with her own, tasting herself on him as she reached down to undo his pants. This time he didn’t stop her, wrapping one big hand around her nape and shoving his pants down to his thighs with the other.

Jaliya tried to draw him down on top of her but he made a sound of protest and grabbed her hand instead, pulling it down until she could wrap her fingers around the hot, rigid length of his erection. He groaned into her mouth and tangled his fingers in her hair, pushing into her grip, his fingers locked around hers.

Wanting to draw out the pleasure as he had for her, Jaliya slowed the kiss, sliding her tongue against his as she pumped her fist. His hand tightened in her hair, the slight burn adding to her excitement. He was so hard and thick, straining in her grip. She swirled her fingers around the head of his cock as she worked him, watching his face.

His jaw tightened and his eyes grew heavy-lidded. His breathing sped up and turned shallow. The muscles in his chest and abdomen tightened.

She leaned in to kiss that sexy mouth, her hand moving slow and steady on his rigid length. His tongue plunged between her lips, a low growl emanating from his throat as he pumped into her fist, reaching down to close his hand around hers, squeezing tight. Triumph shot through her when he kicked in her hand, warmth spurting over their joined fingers and onto her stomach.

Zaid broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers with a satisfied groan, their fingers still locked together around his erection. They stayed like that for some time, both of them content to bask in the afterglow and savor the closeness.

Finally he kissed her slow and soft on the mouth and drew away. “You okay?” he whispered.

She nodded. “You?”

He laughed softly. “Yeah. I’m okay.” He kissed her forehead, and the tenderness of it made her heart squeeze. “Stay here,” he whispered, hitching up his pants as he stood.

Suddenly cold and strangely self-conscious without his arms around her, she drew up one knee and grabbed his shirt from the floor to cover her breasts. He crossed the room to grab some tissues and came back to the bed, giving her a sensual smile that made her insides curl before sitting on the edge of the cot and wiping her stomach clean. She avoided his gaze, unsure where to look or what to say now that it was over.

“Hey.” He gently grasped her jaw in his hand and lifted her face. “Having second thoughts already?”

What? “No, not at all. I just wondered if maybe you did.”

Something possessive flared in his eyes. “No way. You’re mine.”

She loved the way he said it, and the sentiment behind it. Even if this could only last a short while longer.

He stroked her hair back from her forehead. “You really okay with this?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

He chuckled. “Trust me, I should be thanking you. Although technically you still haven’t had sex or slept with me.”

That made her smile. “No, I haven’t, have I?”

“No. So your honor is still intact.”

She’d wondered why he hadn’t entered her. Now she knew why, and it turned her heart over to know he’d wanted to protect her that way even in the heat of passion. “You make me lose my head.”

“Yeah? Well that’s only fair, since you do the same to me.” He gathered her clothes from the floor and handed them to her.

She tugged them on quickly, relieved when she was covered once more. “Here’re yours.” She held out the shirt she’d been holding to her breasts.

He lifted it to his nose and inhaled. His eyes went smoky. “Mmmm, smells like you.”

She flushed. “Shame, to cover up such a nice view.”

He grinned and pulled the shirt over his arms. “Flatterer.”

With reality rushing in to interrupt their interlude, nerves began to take hold. She fiddled with the blanket beside her hip and swallowed. “What you said earlier, about the op.”

He drew the shirt over his head and tugged it over his torso. “What about it?”

“Was it the truth? You really don’t see what happened as my fault?”

His expression filled with understanding. “Honey, of course it wasn’t your fault. It’s like I said, shit happened. Nobody has a crystal ball, and no one can predict what will go down during a mission. No one’s going to blame you for what happened, and you can’t either.”

“Because I was thinking that he was right.”

“Who?”

“My dad. That I’m not cut out for this job. That I’m not good enough.”

Warm, gentle hands cradled her face. She looked up into his gorgeous hazel eyes as he spoke in a low voice. “You are good enough. And I believe in you.”

His words hit her in her most vulnerable spot. Until that moment she hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to hear them. To know that he had faith in her and her abilities.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and smiled up at him, the sincerity in his voice warming her straight to her soul. “Thank you.”

His gaze was both tender and intense. Steady. Seeing every part of her in a way that no one else ever had. “You’re going to find The Jackal. And when you do, we’re gonna nail the son of a bitch.”