Ice (Elite Forces #1)(7)
Therefore, names and ranks are engraved onto our shirts. We leave home to live in these foreign lands with very few personal items at all. Our entire life changes. When you cross a boarder into enemy territory, you live a new life. Some have new identities, while others lose their lives altogether.
CDR Kaleb Maverick. Interesting name. Mulling it over for a few short seconds, my head snaps back to the arrogant aroma radiating off of him.
His dark brown beard pulls my attention to his lips. I squeeze my legs together at the thought of what that would feel like between my thighs. He runs the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip as I'm staring. Fuck me.
“I asked you a question. Answer me.” He smiles, those lips sending mixed signals. I wonder if he’s ever been bitch-slapped. His arrogance speaks volumes. If he talks to women like this, I’m sure he’s been slapped, but never by a bigger bitch than me. If we were anywhere but standing here in the middle of this unit, I would knock him clean on his sexy, tight ass.
“Fuck you,” I snarl, my expression mirroring his. I smile. My attitude gives nothing away about the fact that I want to beat his f*cking ass, except I want him to know one thing. The shit we did last night will never happen again. Seriously? My little inner devil voice screams at me. One little—or should I say BIG—taste is all I get?” I roll my eyes at her and him under my sunglasses.
“Look. I saw him standing outside your tent when I left you. If you didn’t f*ck him, then what the hell did he want?” He crosses his arms over his massive chest, those tattoos begging for me to lick them.
“He wanted to know what happened between us.” My power of speech stays just that, powerful and to the point.
“And did you tell him?” His voice grows quiet.
“God, no. I lied.” His brows rise, challenging me to continue.
“That basically if you ever caught me doing it again, you would make sure I lost my rank.” I shrug. He begins to chuckle.
“Don’t f*ck with me, Captain. Trust me, the consequences will be much more detrimental to your health than being out here in the middle of bum-f*ck-no-where-land. And don’t ever let me catch that bastard sniffing around your sweet * again.” With those nice parting words, he leaves me standing in the dust for a second time.
“Commander,” I say before he gets too far away. He doesn’t turn around, just stops.
“If you ever talk to me or treat me like a whore again, I will spit out every goddamn word you’ve threatened me with out here. I’ll give it all up. Don’t do it again, or I’ll f*cking ruin you.” And with that, I storm past him. I hope the damn desert dust is flying into his slacked jaw. Fucker.
There are ten of us standing at attention in the blazing hot sun. Sweat dripping, bodies stiff, all of us waiting impatiently to hear details of our mission.
You can feel the rush and the overpowering smell of the desire to destroy and to make this mission our own personal bitch lying stagnant in the stifling air.
Like the rest of my team, I'm standing here listening to our Commander tell us how our unit has been handpicked, selected solely by him and the higher up chain of command for this special operations unit; how each and every one of us have excelled to be one of the best in our specialty we’ve all worked our asses off for, how we have bled, breathed, and even slept to become the best we could be.
I remain focused, eyes planted firmly ahead, toes pointed forward, until Kaleb stands directly in front of the small space between me and Captain Harris. It may be my own imagination, but something tells me these two had their talk and punishment has already been given to my dear friend. If I find out that is the case, I'll have to have words with my sweet Commander again.
“Captain Harris. Both you and Captain Elliott will report to my office no later than five minutes after dinner chow this evening. Do I make myself clear?” My peripheral vision watches as he turns his neck, waiting for both of us to answer.
“Yes, Sir.” We both say in unison. I’d give anything to be able to approach this arrogant * with a few more adjectives addressed behind my appropriate answer.
“Now, for our mission. You're all well aware you’ve been brought here to complete one thing. Once we do, you’ll return home to your families and loved ones. I really don’t care who you have back home waiting for you. You all will return safe. I have no intentions of leaving any of you behind.” He paces back and forth in front of us while he talks, his hands folded neatly together behind his back.
He turns, stops, and looks every single one of us individually in the eyes before continuing.
"You're the best of the best. I know this. I personally handpicked each and every one of you. I've done my research, and all of you came very highly recommended for this mission. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that this is confidential and this mission is of utmost importance. If I tell you to do something, there's a reason for it, so don't ask questions, do it."
His pacing reminds me of last night. Now, his black t-shirt is being worn tight around his bulging biceps, and my eyes are drawn again to the tattoos covering the rest of his arms down to just above his wrists.
He catches me watching and pauses directly in my view before he resumes his pacing in front of the team. He really intrigues me more than I'd like to admit. How am I truly going to be able to deal with a large mission if I'm constantly drooling over this man? Stay focused, Jade. Remember he’s an *.