Chapter Three
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Hunter rode in the sedan, his eyes constantly scanning the road ahead. This was stupid. The general he guarded had insisted on being taken by land to the base, but there were no armored sedans at the air field. One hour and they would have been in a safe helicopter. It wasn’t as if it was an emergency.
General Rendez talked nonstop in the back seat to Major Jackson. Hunter had learned to tune out the jaw flapping of the higher ups. His job was to protect them, not nose around in their business, besides, he was pretty sure their business would nauseate him.
This second tour in Afghanistan was nothing like the first. Before he felt like he was accomplishing something, helping knock down terrorism and protecting bases where they brought in the wounded.
But he’d been promoted. Shit. It felt like a demotion to him. Guarding the movers and shakers of the army around a country that didn’t even function as a country was a lesson in futility in his opinion. But what did he know? He was only Military Police.
But he did know how to survive and keep his charges alive.
The tiniest glint on the hill up ahead had his adrenaline kicking in. “Stop!”
“What? I can’t stop. We’re in the middle of nowhere.” His driver, a man he’d never met that he now looked at with suspicion, kept moving forward.
“I said stop.” He slammed his foot on top of the brake, bringing the sedan to a sudden halt. Swearing in the back was nothing but muffled sound to him.
He saw the flash as the mortar was sent. Fuck, they were dead. “Get out of the car!” He jumped out and threw open the back door. Pulling the general out, he pushed him ahead of him, away from the vehicle. The silence in the air made everything slow down as he pushed his muscles harder. The explosion shook the ground simultaneously with the concussion of air that picked him up and swept him forward.
Heat, pain and desperation sliced through his body. Then there was nothing.
Voices speaking Dari brought him to. Did he want to wake up? No. Yes. He had to get home to Julie. He had to live. The body beneath his own was warm. He had to protect her. What was Julie doing here? She was supposed to be home. His hand was wedged beneath him. If he could just reach his sidearm.
The voices grew louder. He wasn’t sure if it was because they drew closer or his hearing was coming back online. Didn’t matter which. He had to protect Julie. Wiggling his fingers, he felt every one of them. He moved his hand slowly to his side, hoping his M9 was still in its holster. His M4 was torn from his hand in the blast. His fingers grasped the cold metal of the Beretta’s hilt. Confidence powered through him. He had a gun.
The voices grew louder. Arguing. Only two. That’s what sucked here. So few could do so much damage. But he could take out two. Then he had to get Julie to the hospital. Or was she already there? Images of her in a hospital bed flashed across his vision. He must still be dazed from the explosion. Didn’t matter. His training said take down the enemy and worry about wounded when the threat was eliminated.
A shout as the two men found the driver proved that man’s innocence. Too bad he hadn’t stopped out of range.
Hunter slit open one eye. Fuck, that’s as far as it would go. One of the enemy walked around the wreckage, his weapon ready.
He only had one shot and it all depended on pushing himself up and swinging his arm around. He didn’t even know if he could move, but if he went slow, he was dead anyway. Then what of Julie?
Her sweet smile, big eyes and flawless white skin that she swore she had to moisturize every day back in Arizona, blocked his vision for a moment. He had to get back to her.
No, he had to save her. Confusion swept through him and his head started to throb. He needed to focus.
The enemy drew closer. He waited. Watching for the telltale sign the man had relaxed. Not yet. The enemy kicked his boot. It didn’t hurt too bad, which meant he still had his legs. It certainly felt that way.
Then the enemy kicked the leg beneath him. Anger boiled inside, pushing him to the edge. He couldn’t let this man hurt Julie. She was his reason for living, for getting home to their ranch outside of Tucson.
Then he saw it. The loosened hand as the M16 dipped down toward the ground.
He pushed his torso up with his left hand as his right swung and pulled the trigger. The enemy went down.
His brain rejoiced as he collapsed on Julie. Darkness threatened as the thumping in his head increased, mixing with a yell and the pounding of feet.
He wanted to give in, but a groan from beneath him forced him to push away the black and embrace the hammering in his head. He opened his eye as the enemy pulled his gun up to his hip.
No fucking way.
He’d fallen on his arm so he cocked his wrist and shot just as the first bullets whizzed toward him. The enemy fell at the same time the burn of bullets pierced his leg and a yell from beneath him told him where the others had landed.
“No!” Julie was hit! She had to live!
His body jerked hard and he woke soaked in sweat. “What the fuck?”
Hunter blinked, focusing on the ceiling fan above him and the sunlight glinting off it. He wiped at his face with one hand. He wasn’t supposed to have the nightmares during the day.
He threw off the blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he cradled his head. Just when he found a routine, his brain screwed him up again.
This one was new. He’d never dreamed his late wife was the general he’d saved. Too bad he didn’t do drugs because they couldn’t mess with his head any worse than it already was.
Standing up, he strode naked to the bathroom to take a piss then walked into the kitchen. He was starving. Adrenaline rushes in dreams demanded as many calories as the real thing.
Opening the fridge, he scanned the shelf of protein shakes. He had to admit, Lacey was efficient. But he needed real food.
Pulling the lunch meat drawer open, he grabbed the pound of sliced roast beef. He’d prefer a steak, but he didn’t want to take that kind of time. He needed a lot more sleep. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. Shit. It was only one in the afternoon.
He dropped the beef on the counter and pulled out the casserole dish still half filled with the macaroni and cheese he made the day before. He mixed that up and stuck it in the microwave.
As the timer ticked down, he ripped open the roast beef and took a slice at a time and chewed. The primitive flavor of the pink meat permeated his mouth and soothed his brain. When the microwave rang, he pulled the dish out and set it on the stove top. Grabbing a spoon, he shoveled in a hot, cheesy portion.
Now that was comfort food. He focused on the flavors as they moved over his tongue. The tangy saltiness of the pasta and the course rawness of the meat. When he was finished he felt better, or rather his stomach felt better. His mind kept wanting to go back to the dream.
How the fuck was he supposed to sleep if he was going to dream again? Wrapping what was left of the meat, he stuffed it back in the drawer and placed the casserole dish in the dishwasher.
Then he sat on the stool at the counter with a bottle of water. He needed to force his mind to think of something else like they’d taught him. Anything.
Adriana’s naked body as she walked into the light of her own kitchen emerged. The woman was sex on two legs, a dirty magazine centerfold/porn star/temptress in one. Every boy’s and man’s wet dream, but even better. She was exotic and beautiful and sensual naturally, like she’d been born to pleasure a man.
His cock hardened as he kept his focus. So what? No need to keep the sucker at bay now. She wasn’t here. He indulged his fantasy.
She wouldn’t need a bed. She’d want something down and dirty. She’d be happy to sit on this very counter, spread her legs and let him eat her out. No guilt. No commitments. No attachment beyond sex. His hand found his stiff cock and he started to rub it back and forth.
He could imagine her dusky skin changing to a dull pink at the lips between her thighs. He could lick every pale spot while being surround by her scent. He’d noticed it when he walked her home. It was like the desert at night, cool, crisp, fresh.
She’d grasp his head in her hands, urging him on, moaning loudly, free of all inhibitions. She wouldn’t care who heard or who saw. Shit, she’d be happy to have an audience. They could invite the whole resort.
His hand stilled. Not like Julie. She enjoyed their intimacy, preferably in the dark, her tiny moans eeking out to tell him she enjoyed his touch.
He shook his head. He wasn’t worthy of Julie anymore. She was gone. She wouldn’t like who he’d become. He wasn’t the cowboy hero she’d fallen in love with. He’d been so green, idealistic, thinking he could make a difference, first in their town and then for his country.
But he couldn’t even save his own wife.
The dream edged into his psyche, threatening to take over again. “No.”
His own voice cut it off. Dark skin, long black hair, breasts with large, dusky areolas and thick nipples. He could do that.
He could take Adriana anywhere. He turned as he grasped his ball sac and rolled them. Sitting on his stool, he gazed out at the patio, in the shade at the moment, the wood railing the perfect height for bending her over. He could envision her stomach across the top as he held her hips and sank into her wet and ready pussy. The glide would be spectacular.
Her sheath would contract around him, an expertise he was sure she had. He’d watched her so many nights. Not because he planned to, but on patrol he’d see the light and check to make sure all was okay. She was inside with at least two, maybe more, partners.
Her smile sultry even as someone pounded into her like he wanted to do. Her eyes bright with excitement, her every movement a dance of sexuality and enjoyment. She would laugh, her pleasure too much to contain and he could hear it.
He’d been drawn in like a man being tempted to the dark side. He snorted. He’d been living on that side since his first tour, he just hadn’t realized it.
He always stepped forward, wanting to be closer to hear her orgasm as her body shook and her mouth opened with her scream.
But if he had her, it would just be the two of them. Two who lived better in the dark where their sins were less obvious. He could have her to himself, right there over the railing.
“More,” her throaty voice would demand.
He could grip her hips and slide in and out, the tension fluctuating as she spurred him on. Pumping faster, he’d fill her every time to the brink, his balls slapping against her as she panted and moaned until screaming, her sheath contracted around him, milking his cock for all it was worth.
“Argh.” The release of his come as it squirted onto the tile floor unwound his tension and freed his mind. He slowed his hand, holding a bit of pressure on his happy dick. “Nice job.”
Finally letting go, he pulled paper towels from the holder and wet them to clean himself off. Trashing them, he grabbed another bunch and cleaned up the floor. Keeping his mind on the relief he felt, he returned to his bedroom and sprawled across the bed.
*
Adriana poured another round of shots. “That’s it, folks. Going to have to close up now.”
A chorus of whines from the four swingers followed her pronouncement.
“Ah, come on, Adriana. It’s only one. The n-night is young.”
She eyed the petite blonde with enhanced breasts. Patti was her name. “True, but I can’t keep the bar open with only four customers. If you want, I can charge a bottle of tequila to your account and you can take it back to your casita.”
“Oh, I like that idea. Do it.”
She added the bottle of high-end tequila and handed it over. “There you go. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“Would you like to join us?” The blonde’s husband, Steve, gave her a wink.
“You know I would, but I still have a lot of work to do. Need to add to my liquor order after all you guys drank and that goes out tomorrow.”
Patti toasted the air with the bottle. “If you change your m-mind and want to come over later, we’re in casita number four.” She giggled, finding that funny.
Patti was obviously already feeling a little too good. Adriana smiled. “Good to know.”
As the foursome made their way down the path from the outdoor bar, she pulled the final shot glasses from the ironwood top and washed them in the scrubber.
She didn’t have to close the bar. She could have kept it open until two, but she was tired. Three hours of fitful sleep had not been enough. Then added to that the news about her car, even though nothing had been missing, and she was wrecked. She was bound to drop more than a beer glass if she continued to tend bar and she hated cleaning up glass. The chances of being cut were too high.
She flicked the scrubber off and turned out the lower bar lights. She’d been surreptitiously cleaning up for the last hour, ready to call it a night.
Usually, she would jump at the chance to join a foursome, but being tired meant she couldn’t judge the two couples well enough to know for certain it was safe. They probably were, but it was even more than that.
Wiping her hands on a bar towel, she grabbed it up and two others and threw them on the floor. That would remind her to pull out clean ones tomorrow afternoon.
She flipped the switch on the upper bar lights and walked toward the pool. Usually she took a dip on the nights she wasn’t otherwise occupied after work, but she felt too tired for even that.
The moon was shining brighter, showing at least three quarters, making the area look like another dimension. Yeah, right.
She plopped down on a lounge chair and toed off her boots. She could probably sleep right here she was so tired, but the moonlight might keep her awake. Still, it felt good to get off her feet.
Between the whip last night and the shock at seeing her car mysteriously unlocked, it had been a rough one. Too bad she couldn’t soak in a nice hot bath. She could, but that meant she’d have to run it, which would take far too long.
She glanced at the hot tub. That could work.
But she didn’t move. Not a single muscle. There had been no damage to her car and everything she had in there was still there. Kendra was sure she’d just left it unlocked. But she hadn’t. She always locked her car twice, just to be sure. It was habit.
She loved that car. It wasn’t anything truly expensive or special but it was to her. Being able to buy it had been her first goal for herself when she’d joined the bordello in Sparks, Nevada. She’d been so naïve, but her looks and personality had made her one of the three most sought after girls at Mrs. B’s.
To be truthful, she could have bought four of those cars, but it wasn’t the same. Her baby was hers, but it was getting old. Maybe it was time to change the color. Maybe lime green. She grinned. Lacey would be horrified.
“You closed early.” Hunter’s voice came out of nowhere.
Her heart raced at being surprised and with the knowledge he was near. He was the reason she wasn’t anxious to join a group tonight. She wanted him. She scanned the edges of the pool deck and found him, or rather the shadow of him at the opposite corner. “Crap, you’re quiet. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
He walked toward her, skirting the pool, but the moonlight hitting his cowboy hat kept his face in shadow. Damn, that was hot.
“I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
She liked that. That polite cowboy part of him drew her as much as his silence did and the underlying danger in the way he moved. No one moved like that unless they were hiding something.
It was weird. She didn’t even know if he was built. He was certainly big enough to have muscle under all his clothes, but the black material hid everything. For all she knew, he had a beer belly and flabby thighs.
He stopped about three feet from her. Just his presence, standing over her, had her nipples hardening. What the hell was wrong with her? “I think I’m safe. Why?” She sat up straight. “Did the Dom and his entourage try to come back?”
“No.” The smooth sound of his voice in that one word calmed her like nothing could.
Now that made no sense. How could his voice both excite and relax her? She must need sleep. “I was just resting before heading to bed. No, that’s not true. I was about to fall asleep right here. I’m wiped.”
He didn’t say anything, just stood there silent and dark, darker than the night. A shiver of excitement swept up her spine. He was Batman. She giggled. Freak, she must be really tired. She was losing it. “I guess I should go back to my casita. Could you give a girl a hand up?”
She stretched out her arm, hoping he’d take her hand.
He did and anticipation rumbled low in her belly. She was ready to purr. Then he pulled her toward him and she couldn’t resist. As she stood, she leaned into him, grasping his shoulder. A very muscular shoulder. “Thanks.” She forced herself to let go.
“I’ll walk you home.” His words, so simple, sent excitement tittering through her veins.
“Thanks. Whoa, wait. I need my boots.” Stepping away from him, she shoved her feet in her cowboy boots and groaned. “I’ve spent far too many hours on my feet today. I much prefer being on my back.” She winked at him, but couldn’t tell if he caught it. His face was shadowed by his hat, except his lips and scruff, which were illuminated by the moon and they didn’t move an inch.
He took a step back and opened his arm for her to precede him. That was terribly cowboy of him. Instead, she hooked her arm in his. “Okay, I’m ready, in so many ways.”
She wasn’t sure, but it felt like a tendon or something in his arm moved at her comment. It was so blasted hard to tell when he stayed silent and simply started walking. What she was sure of was that the arm beneath her own was rock hard and that had her mind warming already.
“So did you hear someone broke into my car?”
“No.” He didn’t even hesitate, keeping his stride short to accommodate her.
“They did. I think it was the Dom from last night, but I couldn’t find anything taken or damaged. Kendra thinks I just forgot to lock my car. No way, Jose. That car is my baby. I lock it up good and tight every time.” It still pissed her off that Kendra didn’t believe she’d locked it. She wasn’t so old she forgot stuff like that. She was thirty-two. In her sexual prime.
They took a few more strides before he spoke. “I’ll check on it.”
Those simple words that said he believed her had her anger dissipating. He certainly didn’t say much, but what he said was the right thing. “Thanks.”
They walked in silence, but it wasn’t a comfortable one. She wasn’t sure he was ever comfortable. She didn’t like it. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing you didn’t tell your mommy when you were a five-year-old that you wanted to grow up to be a security guard on a nudist resort. Right?”
This time she definitely felt a reaction in his arm. If she could see his mouth, she would bet money his lips quirked just a smidge.
“Right.”
She waited, but this time she felt as if he were laughing at her, making her wait on purpose. It kind of turned her on. “So what did you do before you came here?”
“I killed people.”
Any lightness she’d felt disappeared with those three words. “Cop?”
He grunted. “Military police.”
So he was a veteran. His silent walk, the way he moved like a snake all coiled up and ready to strike. It fit. She didn’t know one iota about the military. She’d never even had a client who’d been in the military. Probably because women just loved a man in uniform. Those guys didn’t need to pay for it.
She should stick to what she knew but since when did she do what she should? “I thought I felt some muscle under these clothes. I’d really like to see it some time.”
Did his step hesitate just a second there? She couldn’t be sure. Now she had the urge to pull him into her casita, strip him of his black clothing and turn on every light she had. Even the old lava lamp she’d won in Reno.
As they reached her door, he pulled his arm out from her grip.
She turned and faced him, wishing now her light was on outside. Note to self: leave light on twenty-four hours a day from now on. “I’d invite you in for a drink, but really what I’d like is a lot more than that.”
“I don’t drink.” Hunter’s tone was downright frigid.
Hmm, that hit a nerve. “I doubt that. I bet you drink water and orange juice and I know you drink that disgusting protein stuff.”
“I’m on patrol.”
“Right, of course.” There was no way she’d get him into her bed while he was working. That was his police side. “Oh, you said you would look at my car. Do you need the keys? I locked it again this afternoon.”
“Yes.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but that appeared to be it.
Shrugging, she pulled her keys from her back pocket. She unlocked the door to her casita then handed him her key chain. “If you get a break, you know where to find me. And if you just need a little activity before going to sleep in the morning, don’t hesitate to drop by.” She gave him her most sultry smile, making it perfectly clear what kind of activity she was proposing.
He took the keys from her without even touching her hand then tipped his hat and turned away.
Just like that? He disappeared into the moonlit desert as if he’d never been there. What the hell?
Stepping inside her casita, she flicked on the light and dropped down on her couch to toe off her boots.
She must be losing her sex appeal or something. Either that or the man was made of stone. She stilled. What if he’d damaged his goods in the military? “Crap, that would suck.”
Was that why he watched her get off? Did men like that want to watch? Hell, she didn’t have a clue. She didn’t even care why he watched as long as he did. That was pretty selfish of her.
She lay across her couch, too tired to move another foot. Now if he was there, she’d find her second wind, but he’d moved along. Unzipping her vest, she let her breasts breathe.
Making herself come would take more energy than she had, so she pulled the Mexican blanket from the back of her couch and spread it over herself against the chill and closed her eyes.
Maybe she could dream about having an orgasm instead…with a fully functioning Hunter.
*
Hunter continued his patrol around the staff casitas, walking off the sexual tension he felt whenever he was near Adriana. He wasn’t surprised by it. In fact, he welcomed it. Her blatant sexuality made an excellent distraction.
He should thank her and he probably would eventually. When he was ready. In the meantime, she’d given him another distraction. Her vehicle.
Hunter strode toward the other side of the resort. Pulling out his cell phone, he flashed the area twice then put it away. The cell phone signal booster Kendra had installed worked only half the time, so he and Mac never completely depended on the phones.
MacKenzie Rivers stepped out from behind the Old West town and strode toward him. The woman was over six feet tall and in better shape than some of the men he’d served with. She kept her hair pulled back in a tight bun and with the weather still cold, wore dark-colored sweats and black sneakers. He didn’t know what her story was, but she took her job seriously and that’s all he cared about.
“What’s up?”
He jerked his head in the direction of the guest casitas. “I need to take some time up at the garage. You want to cover the guest side too for a while?”
“Sure, unless you need me at the garage as well.”
“No.”
She stared at him a moment. “Something up there I should know about?”
“Don’t know yet.” It could be Adriana forgot to lock her car, but he wasn’t going to put anything past the guests he’d kicked out last night. By the time he and Mac reached their casita, they were gone. When he jogged up to the garage to make sure they’d left, he’d seen their tail lights down the dirt road.
They walked together toward the fork that split the resort in half.
“How’s Adriana?” Mac’s question derailed his thoughts.
“Hard to know. She seems fine. I think she blames herself.”
“She shouldn’t.” Mac’s voice changed. There was a guttural tone to it.
He stopped at the top of the ridge, his eyes scanning the casitas below. Only one was lit. Probably the foursome from the bar. “Be sure and check the lit casita. I escorted Adriana home when she got off, but since I turned down her invitation, she may go out again.”
Mac raised an eyebrow then nodded. “Will do. Flash if you need help.”
“Right.” He headed down the path to the bridge, but once across, he jogged up the other side of the ravine. Kendra had given him and Mac golf carts, but they rarely used them. There was nothing like being on foot for catching people doing something they shouldn’t.
The last catch had been a couple who were doing it on Adriana’s bar. They’d been embarrassed he’d caught them, so they weren’t Adriana’s type. He caught plenty of guests having sex in public places of the resort, but if food or drink was served on the surface, he drew the line and left a note. Luckily, most of the nudists knew better.
As he came into the garage, he stopped. Listening to the night sounds, he catalogued every one. The scampering of a desert rat. The winged whisper of a late-night bat. A coyote off in the distance. No human sounds.
He didn’t flick on the overhead lights. They would light up the whole desert north of Carefree Highway. Instead, he pulled out his mini-LED flashlight and clicked it on. Adriana’s car was always parked in the back corner where staff kept their vehicles. It didn’t take long to find it.
He had to give her credit. Choosing a yellow Camaro convertible instead of a red corvette definitely kept her from becoming a cliché. He’d bet a hundred bucks any cop that pulled her over was offered a blowjob if he let her off with a warning.
He shook his head. Julie would have simply cried with mortification. He froze. Where the fuck had that come from?
Refusing to go down that road, he focused on the Camaro, the flashlight reflected off the bright paint, lighting up the area.
The easiest way to break into a car without making it look like a crime occurred was to use a slim jim. He’d used that particular instrument more times than his gun when he’d been an officer in Oro Mesa. He shined the light on the window near where the locking mechanism would be.
There. His body tensed at his find. The lightest of scrapes along the window ridge could be made out. He followed the spot to the window. It was obvious the desert dust had been disturbed, showing the perpendicular marks of a slim jim.
The spurt of elation that came with finding a crime had been committed woke his brain as if it’d been asleep. The scratch and dust disturbance probably wasn’t obvious during the day or with the lights on, but the darkness revealed a lot.
Adriana had probably already compromised the scene, so he didn’t worry about fingerprints. Unlocking the driver side door, he paused. The scent of Adriana flowed out at him. It was strong, as if she sprayed herself with perfume inside the car. It reminded him of sage and fresh cotton, mystical and practical, though there seemed to be very little mystery about that woman.
He shined the light inside. Shit. The car was a mess of paper. The front seat had empty plastic bags and a crushed Kleenex box on the floor. The backseat was littered with receipts. He picked up a handful. Three fast food places, one organic grocery store, one gas station, one hardware store, two bank withdrawals, one restaurant and three sex store receipts. No surprise there. He picked up another handful. This one also included an oil change and a W-2.
Not exactly identity proof. Concerned, he sifted through a few more. She had check stubs, old bills and even a tax workbook CPAs often give clients to get ready for having their taxes done. If someone was in this car, they had access to her entire identity.
He shined the light over every inch, looking for any kind of clue. It wasn’t as if he had a team of forensics experts at his beck and call, but at the moment he wished he did. Standing up, he shined the flashlight over the rest of the vehicle. There didn’t appear to be any outside damage.
He strode around to the passenger seat and checked that window. There were no marks there. He tried the door and it remained locked. Returning to the driver’s side, he sat in the seat and looked around. He could picture Adriana with the top down, her jet-black hair blowing in the wind as she sped down the highway, her smile wide or maybe she even laughed.
He envied her that. Despite her former career, she didn’t appear disillusioned, just tough and she took life by the balls and squeezed every moment of joy from it she could. How did a person become like that?
He shook his head to refocus his thoughts. Opening the glove compartment, he found the registration and a couple of warnings for speeding. There was also a flashlight, a box of 9mm bullets, an array of condoms, a couple loose tampons and a pack of wet wipes. He was learning quite a bit about his coworker.
The passenger seat didn’t have paper. It was piled with clothes. All looked brand new and sexy. Why wouldn’t she have brought these down to her casita?
And why did he keep getting distracted? He needed to think of her as the victim. Would she even know if anything had been taken? This wasn’t a good scenario. Stepping back out of the car, he was about to close the door when his flashlight glinted off something shiny under the driver seat. Crouching, he focused the light on the object.