Chapter Eight
Well, he hadn’t killed anyone this week. Jesse supposed that counted as a win. All of the recruits, all of his men, and his son had made it through a tough week in the jungle and to their island vacay in one piece. There were blisters and bruises, but nobody had shed even one drop of blood.
He wished the thought relaxed him, but he was still a bundle of nerves. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. With how tightly strung he felt, you’d think he was sitting in the middle of an active war zone rather than hanging out poolside around a blazing fire as a salted breeze rolled off the ocean and the moon hung in a lazy crescent overhead. After such a successful mission, Gabe and Quinn were going to be looking hard at him to take up the mantle of XO.
“You scared?”
Jesse jolted as the conversation around him penetrated, and he stared over at Jean-Luc in the seat next to him. The Cajun couldn’t possibly know what he was thinking. Or how fucking scared he was that he’d fail them all.
But then he realized Jean-Luc hadn’t been talking to him.
Seth, seated across the fire pit, grinned in response. Orange light danced across his face, casting shadows over his scars, making them more prominent. “Nah. Not at all.”
“F’true?” Disbelief colored Jean-Luc’s question. “Mais, you’re a brave, brave man. Getting hitched is my second biggest fear.”
“Only your second?” Danny asked. The FBI agent had joined them for the exercise for reasons unknown to Jesse. To hear him tell it, his wife had expressly forbidden him from taking the job Gabe had offered a few years back. Maybe he’d wanted to prove he still had his man card and could hold his own with HORNET—and he had done so better than some of the recruits, despite not having any formal training. He would’ve been a great asset had he joined them.
Right now, Danny certainly looked like he belonged with the rough and tumble group, his dark hair windblown, his jaw covered with a week’s worth of beard. He sprawled in the chair beside his best friend, Marcus.
Danny took a long drink from his beer. “So, Cajun, if monogamy is your second worst fear, what’s your first?”
“Clowns.” Jean-Luc shuddered and tried to catch the straw of his frilly coconut drink between his lips. “Ech. Scary motherfuckers.”
“It’s a wonder you’re able to shave in the morning,” Quinn said, deadpan. He was seated at Jesse’s other side, watching the group over the fire with a small quirk to his lips. “I mean, considering the clown you see in the mirror.”
Jean-Luc pressed a hand to his chest. “Quinn. Did you just make a joke?”
Quinn gave him the finger.
Jean-Luc sighed dramatically. “And here I thought your sense of humor was showing.”
Everyone laughed. Except for Lanie. She sat directly across the fire from Jesse and she’d been unusually quiet since they’d arrived in Martinique.
Jesse was doing his best to not pay any attention to her, but it was damn near impossible when she wore a red bikini and a gauzy white cover-up that covered-up little. Even with her braids starting to frizz and shadows under her eyes, she was gorgeous. And she never even tried to be. He found it disconcerting. Annoying. Hell, infuriating because his cock had a mind of its own around her. He knew she wasn’t trying to seduce him by wearing that swimsuit, but every time he looked at her, his body reacted as if she’d crooked a finger and invited him into her bed.
As if sensing his stare, Lanie’s gaze lifted from the depths of her barely touched beer bottle. The firelight played up her angled cheekbones, and highlighted the fullness of her lips.
“Well,” Quinn said and slapped the arms of his chair before pushing up out of it. “I’m gonna hit the sack.”
Read: check on Gabe. They’d all been silently worrying about the big guy ever since arriving at the hotel. He’d excused himself to his room and hadn’t been seen since. And while he’d never been the most social creature before he was shot, he’d always been the kind of commander who took the time to bond with his men post-mission, so this was unusual.
Jesse suspected the training mission had taken more out of him than he wanted anyone to know. He’d be getting a house call first thing in the morning. Jesse figured he’d at least give Gabe the evening to relax before the medical poking and prodding started.
He refocused on Quinn. “You’re flyin’ out tomorrow, right?”
Quinn nodded. “The doc told Mara to stay close to home for the third trimester. She was bummed to miss this”—he swept out an arm, encompassing the resort—“so I promised I’d fly back early and we’d come down together sometime after the baby’s born. Phoebe and Audrey arrive tomorrow.”
Meaning Gabe wouldn’t be alone for the weekend. Good.
Jesse met Quinn’s gaze, nodded once in understanding. Quinn squeezed his shoulder as he passed. It was a gesture of solidarity, of brotherhood. Between the two of them and Audrey, they’d pull Gabe through this trauma.
Jesse felt eyes on him and shifted in his seat, knowing instinctively without looking it was Lanie. He wished he wasn’t so damn aware of her all the fucking time. “Go make sure the boss is okay, and tell him I’ll be checkin’ in on him in the mornin’.”
“Oh, he’ll love that.” A small smiled curved Quinn’s lips. “And, not gonna lie, after the way he had you watching me like a hawk, I’m enjoying turning the tables on him.”
As Quinn walked away, conversation around the fire trailed off and the mood sobered for a few minutes. Jesse didn’t know about the rest of them, but he found himself reliving the moment Gabe was shot followed by the endless hours they’d been trapped together as prisoners. He’d felt so helpless watching Gabe’s life slowly seep away and being unable to do anything but the bare minimum for him. It was nothing short of a miracle he’d survived long enough to make it to a hospital.
Danny was the first to break the silence. Maybe because he hadn’t been in that snowy airfield in Eastern Europe like the rest of them and didn’t understand the significance of the last few minutes of conversation. Or maybe because he did understand and was trying to ease the tension. Which was more likely. Nothing much got by the FBI agent.
Danny leaned forward and stretched a hand around the fire pit to Lanie in greeting. “I know we’ve been slopping through the jungle together for the last week, but I don’t believe we were ever officially introduced. I’m Daniel Giancarelli. Danny to my friends. I used to work with Marcus in the FBI before he blew me off for these guys.” There was a smile in his eyes and his voice. “I solved their first mission for them.”
That was greeted by good-natured groans. Someone even threw a colorful drink umbrella at him. Likely Jean-Luc since he was the only one of the group willing to drink the kind of frilly cocktails that came with umbrellas.
Lanie accepted Danny’s handshake. “Elena Delcambre. Lanie to my friends. I pretty much solved their last mission for them.”
Unlike Danny’s statement, hers was greeted with uneasy silence. Lips compressed, she glanced at the men around the fire, then abruptly stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
Jesse also rose. Partly because of his upbringing—you always stood when a lady did—and partly because…well, hell, he didn’t know. She seemed upset, though he had no idea how he knew it. She wasn’t scowling or anything, and she even smiled at Danny as he bid her good night. Something in the way she moved told him she was not okay. Her fluid, graceful step was stilted, her shoulders back, her chin up. If that wasn’t a pissed off woman, he didn’t know what one looked like.
He opened his mouth to say something before she walked away, but no words formed. He just stood there, jaw hanging, until someone cleared their throat.
He snapped his mouth shut and sat down again.
“What the hell, mon ami?” Jean-Luc asked.
He studied the faces in the orange glow of the fire. “What?”
Jean-Luc nodded in Lanie’s direction. “You want to go after her, go.”
“No. It’s not like that.”
Marcus snorted. Danny grinned. Seth took a sudden interest in the fire, but his scarred cheek twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“It’s not. C’mon guys.”
“Uh-huh.” Jean-Luc stood and skirted around the fire pit. He reached into one of the many pockets in his shorts and dragged out a string of condoms. The foil packets glinted in the firelight. He slapped them into Jesse’s hand.
“Oh, Jesus.” Jesse glanced around to make sure Connor wasn’t anywhere nearby, and spotted his son playing beach volleyball with several of the other recruits. He shoved the rubbers back and squashed down a surge of panic, but Jean-Luc refused to take them.
“Go to Lanie,” Jean-Luc said simply. “You don’t have to stay out here with us.”
“I’m not goin’ to—” Jesse glanced at Marcus for help, but only got a nod of encouragement.
“Yeah, dude,” Marcus said. “Do us all a favor and get laid.”
Danny held up his hands when Jesse’s gaze swung in his direction. “Hey, I’m Switzerland here. Completely neutral.” He dropped his hands. “I will say, though, you’re wound really tight, man.”
Jesse scowled. “Switzerland, huh?”
“Just saying. If my wife was here, I’d definitely take this opportunity to blow off some steam.”
“If your wife was here,” Jean-Luc said, “so would I. Your wife is hot, Giancarelli.”
“She is.” Danny settled back in his seat and lifted his beer in a toast. “And remind me to punch you for that tomorrow when I have the energy.”
With a shake of his head, Jesse set the string of condoms down on his vacated seat and walked away. He had made up his mind to go after Lanie even before the guys started goading him, but he wasn’t going to need condoms.
Yeah, all right, he was attracted. Had been for years, way back when he was too dumb to know what to do with it. But he wasn’t going to make a move on her. The last thing he needed was another failed marriage on his conscious, and he knew himself well enough to understand he was a marriage kind of guy. He didn’t do flings and had only once had a one-night stand while on leave in Honolulu after his first divorce.
If he slept with Lanie, he’d end up in love with her and want more than a shared bed. He’d want his ring on her finger. Call him old-fashioned or sappy or whatever. It was just the way he was hardwired, and he wasn’t about to get his heart broken a fourth time. He honestly didn’t know if he could cope with that. One more failed relationship might finally fling him into the blackness of a depression he’d never escape from.
He found Lanie at the tiki bar on the other side of the pool. She was signing something, likely for a credit card or room charge. He stepped up beside her, but didn’t say anything until she looked at him.
The corners of her mouth pulled into a frown. “What are you doing?”
“Ma raised me to always walk a lady back to her door.”
Her frown deepened. She slapped the pen and receipt for her drink down on the bar with a thwack and whirled away.
Okay. So that was the wrong thing to say.
He sucked in a breath and chased after her. “Lanie, wait.”
He nearly smacked into her when she stopped short and spun to face him. “Okay, one.” She poked a finger at his chest. “We’re not teenagers and this isn’t a date. Two. I’m not a simpering, helpless female and I don’t need a big, strong man to walk me home. I can take care of my own damn self, thank you very much. I think I’ve more than proved that over the last year.”
He blinked at her and backed up a step. The finger she kept shoving at his pec was starting to hurt. “Uh…okay.”
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m not hysterical, either. And if you suggest I’m being overly emotional or PMSing, I swear to Christ Almighty above, I will kick you so hard your future children will feel it.”
He opened his mouth. Then decided not speaking was the safest course of action and closed it again without making a sound.
Lanie nodded once and stalked away.
What the hell was that all about?
At a complete loss, he watched her go. A smart man would cut his loses and walk away…
But he wasn’t a smart man when it came to her.
…
Men.
This week had been an exercise in sexism, and the worst part about it was they—no, Jesse—didn’t even realize it. It had started as soon as the team touched down in Suriname and unloaded their equipment. None of the men had let Lanie carry anything heavier than a duffle bag—even Gabe had been lifting shit, and he should be the one they were all worried about. Then out in the jungle, Jesse relegated her to a glorified lookout while the boys played war. She never fired her paintball gun once all week. And tonight by the fire, when she made the exact same joke Danny had, did she get a laugh? Nope. She’d been greeted with nothing but silence. Forget that it was true and she had saved Quinn’s ass last year.
Lanie was used to living in a man’s world. Before joining HORNET, she’d been a Texas Ranger—granted, not for long, but it was still a male-dominated field, full of good old country boys who didn’t think a woman could do the job. When she went into law enforcement, she’d gone in expecting misogyny, and she’d held her own just fine. She guessed she just hadn’t expected that same kind resistance to having a woman on the team from the guys of HORNET.
Stupid of her. These men all had protective streaks as wide as Texas, and they tended to coddle their women. No offense to Audrey or Mara or Phoebe, but she wasn’t like them. She wasn’t the type to accept coddling.
Which was exactly why she couldn’t act on the spark of attraction between her and Jesse, she reminded herself firmly as she left the main path for the smaller one that led to her bungalow. As much as she fantasized about falling into bed with him, the last thing she needed was to be relegated to “girlfriend” status. God. She couldn’t imagine how they’d treat her then.
She had to face the facts—they’d never treat her as an equal because she had tits and ovaries. Maybe she’d never find a comfortable spot on this team. Maybe leaving Texas had been a mistake. She’d always had a goal, a clear career path, and not having one now was unsettling.
Footsteps crunched on the path behind her and she glanced over her shoulder at the shadow following her—long, leanly muscled body, wide shoulders, and an ever-present Stetson. She groaned inwardly. Jesse. Of course he couldn’t just leave well enough alone.
She didn’t bother acknowledging him and let herself into her bungalow with her keycard. She’d hoped the door would shut before he reached it, then she could just ignore him, put on her headphones, and get lost in a book the rest of the night.
He caught the door before it latched and barged into her space like a bull. “What’s goin’ on with you?”
She snorted and tossed her keycard on an end table. When she first arrived here, she’d been so pleased with the bright, cheerful cabana with its wall of glass facing the ocean and its beachy rattan furniture. But even that didn’t cheer her up now. She was pissed off, restless, and just…frustrated with the world at the moment. “You can show yourself out. I don’t want you here.”
“Hold up a damn minute.” He caught her arm. “What the devil did I do?”
She stared at him in utter disbelief. Was he really that clueless? Sure looked like it. His expression showed nothing but genuine confusion. She jerked out of his grasp. “Where do I start? Oh, I know. How about with the fact you’ve treated me like a helpless damsel in distress all week? Never mind that I’m a better shot than everyone on the team. Barring Seth,” she added somewhat grudgingly. But, yeah, nobody was better than Seth.
Jesse scowled. “I have not—”
She held up a finger. “Don’t you finish that sentence or I might punch you.”
“Go ahead.” He tilted his chin up, tapped his cheek with one finger. “You’ve been spoilin’ to for days. Get it out of your system.”
“God! You can be such an asshole.” She shoved him. Hard enough to let him know he was pissing her off, but not hard enough to hurt him. Or so she thought. But he backed up a step, and when he did, the back of his knees banged the end table. His long legs buckled. He lost his balance, smacked into the arm of the couch, and went sprawling. He lay half on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, blinking in surprise.
Oh shit. Guilt stirred in her belly and she held out a hand to help him up. “Listen, I’m sorry. I know I can be abrasive and pushy sometimes, but—”
He moved fast and she barely registered it until she landed on her back on the couch, her body tucked underneath him. His lips crashed into hers so hard their teeth clicked together. She swallowed a surprised gasp that morphed without her consent into a moan. It had been so, so long since she’d felt a man between her legs, right where his growing erection now pressed…
Wait. What? It was Jesse’s weight pressing down on her. Jesse’s cock nudging at the vee of her legs.
Jesse.
Lanie clutched two fistfuls of his dark hair with every intention of ripping his mouth from hers and head-butting him.
Except.
Except, God, he had such exquisitely soft hair. The long, silky strands were so at odds with the stubborn man she knew, she just had to run her fingers through them. His lips were soft, too. Even though the kiss carried shades of anger and unwanted passion, his lips felt like velvet.
It would be easy to take what he offered. So easy to have a quickie right here, just to ease tensions a little. Jesse needed the release. So did she.
He yanked up her bathing suit cover, pushed aside the cup of her bikini, found her bare breast, and squeezed her beaded nipple, nudging her over the blurred line between pleasure and pain. She arched into his touch.
So, so easy.
And so wrong.
Not like this. If she ever did allow Jesse Warrick to become her lover, the first time wasn’t going to be like this. It wasn’t going to be born of anger and frustration. She had more respect for herself than that.
She bit his lower lip. Hard.
Jesse reared back onto his knees and touched the drop of blood she’d drawn, his stare even more dazed now than it had been when she’d knocked him on his ass. His breath heaved in and out of his lungs, shaking his wide shoulders.
Lanie sat up and tucked her breasts back into her bikini top. “You don’t want to fuck me. Not really.”
Eyes still fogged with the remnants of lust, Jesse gave a slow shake of his head as if trying to clear it. “No…”
Okay, damn, that hurt, but she’d die a thousand unimaginable ways before she ever let the pain show. She scooted away from him and climbed to her feet. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re stressed. It’s tension.”
He seemed to struggle to find his voice. “Lanie—”
“Don’t.” She drew herself to her full height, threw back her shoulders, lifted her chin. She was strong. Self-reliant. A warrior woman. She didn’t need a man, never had, never would. “Don’t make excuses. I won’t listen to them.”
She strode away with every intention of going for a walk on the beach just to get away from him—but no, she wasn’t ready to leave it at that. She had a few choice things to say to him first, things he damn well needed to hear.
She whirled to confront him again. “You don’t get it, do you? I moved to Wyoming to be part of HORNET. This thing y’all have, it does more good than anything I could have done if I’d stayed in law enforcement. It’s something greater than I’ve ever been a part of, and I want to stay…but I won’t if all y’all can’t accept that I’m just as capable as any of the men on the team.”
“Lanie.” He finally moved, closing the distance between them. “Dammit, you are capable.”
“None of you treat me that way.”
He winced. “The guys…they don’t know how to act around you.” He reached out tentatively, as if he didn’t know whether or not she’d accept his touch. She honestly didn’t know either until he settled his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t move.
“Truth be told,” he added softly, “I don’t know how to act around you.”
“Just treat me like one of them!” Exasperation rolled through her. Why was it so hard for him? If he knew she was as capable as the rest of the guys, why couldn’t he grant her the respect of equal treatment out in the field?
He was silent a moment and his fingers tightened lightly before he dropped his hands. “I can’t do that.”
At the resigned note in his voice, she turned toward him and met his gaze. He had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Right now, those eyes were focused solely on her, full of concern and possibly even a hint of nerves.
“Because I have tits?” The question came out far more breathy than she’d planned. Her heart sped up, and heat rose from her belly, flushing her skin. Being close to him always made her body go crazy, but there was a sharper edge to it this time. Longing goaded by exasperation.
His gaze dropped to her bikini top and he swallowed with visible difficulty. The gesture reignited the flame of anger and frustration, but also did something else—made her want his hands and mouth on her again.
He glanced away, and she drew in a deep breath. She hadn’t been able to breathe properly with his heated gaze on her. “You’re right,” he said finally, which shocked the ever-loving hell out of her.
“Of course I am.”
He nodded and prowled toward her, his denim blue eyes unreadable. “On all but one count.”
Her heart kicked into a gallop and she resisted the urge to back up a step. She wouldn’t give ground to him. Ever. “And what’s that?” Damn, was that her voice, all sensual and girly?
He stopped short of touching her and whispered next to her ear, “I do want to fuck you, Elena. Have for a long time. That’s why I can’t treat you like one of the guys. I’ve never wanted to get any of them naked.”
“Oh.” Oh. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him? A mixture of nerves and excitement fluttered through her belly. Her gaze dropped almost involuntarily to his lips. He had great lips, the bottom fuller than the top, made for being sucked on.
No, girl, don’t kiss him.
Kissing him would be a colossal mistake. If she wanted any chance of being seen as an equal, she absolutely should not kiss this man.
She kissed him.
It happened a lot like the first time when they were just kids. They both leaned in at the same time and their lips brushed together, innocently at first. If she’d listened with her brain instead of her libido, she’d have ended it there. But, of course, she didn’t. He was a bad idea, but she’d always been a fan of bad ideas. She opened her mouth, accepting him in to explore, and the kiss became needy, hungry in an instant. His fingers delved into her hair, tilting her head to better accept his kiss. There was an edge to him, a desperation, and she vaguely wondered if he’d gone as long without sex as she had.
He backed her up until her legs touched the couch. She lowered herself to the cushions and dragged him down with her by the collar of his shirt, knocking his Stetson off his head. Kissing his way down her body, he untied the string holding her top on and found her nipple. Groaning, she arched toward him, pushing more of her breast into his mouth. He used his teeth, again dragging her toward pain, then soothed with his tongue and lips. She’d always known sex with Jesse would walk the line somewhere between gentleness and agony. He was a gentle soul, a healer who cared too much about everyone, but there was also no denying the darkness that plagued his every move. The contrast excited her.
He levered himself up on one arm and reached down to upzip his fly. She batted his hand away and undid the snap herself, sliding down the zipper. He was commando underneath. Like the rest of him, his cock was long, and he was definitely a grower. She wrapped her fingers around him and thrilled as he filled her hand. She squeezed, and watched dribbles of pre-cum leak from his tip.
And she crashed back to reality. The sight of the white stuff was enough to put the brakes on her lust, at least temporarily. If they were doing this, they needed to be smart. She wasn’t currently on any form of birth control—hadn’t refilled her prescription when the last one lapsed—and she doubted Jesse wanted to risk pregnancy any more than she did.
She looked up to find his eyes closed. His hips rocked into her hand. She forced herself to let go before things got any hotter and they both lost their minds.
“Jesse,” she breathed, “we need a condom.”
His eyes popped open, and he stared at her for a second before closing his eyes again as if in pain. “Goddammit.”