Hard Beat(53)

“We need to work,” I remind her softly, speaking of turning in the written reports that back up my live broadcast from earlier as well as the feeling I have that once I check my phone, there will be messages from Rafe about another live spot.

“I believe you just worked me perfectly fine.” Her laugh is muffled, and I can feel the heat of it from where her lips are pressed against my sternum. The sensation sends a pulse of desire straight to my lower belly.

“And I have no problem working you again.”

“Oh you better plan on it. Again and again,” she says, and the suggestiveness that laces her tone is such a damn turn-on because it gives me that little ego boost to know she enjoyed what just happened as much as I did.

“I do like the again part… but this squeaky bed poses a problem.”

“Squeaky wheel gets the oil.”

“Squeak all you want, because I have no problem oiling you up.” My mind goes in pure male fashion from oil to dipstick to lube jobs and the correlation to sex.

“Hmm,” she murmurs as she leans her head back to look into my eyes. “Maybe we need to change up the location. Does the bed in your room squeak?”

“I’m not sure. We can try it out… but uh, I don’t need a bed to have my way with you. There’s lots of viable real estate: shower, wall, dresser, stairwell, rooftop.” I love that damn hitch in her breath from the dark promise of my words. “I’m not picky so long as it’s with you.”

A part of me quickly realizes what I just said to her, the admission that I want there to be a with you when it comes to her, but I know she took it for what it’s worth in the moment when she says, “You know what they say… It’s all about location, location, location.”

“As long as the location is between your thighs, I’ll take it.”





Chapter 14





“G

ood night. This is Tanner Thomas, reporting live for Worldwide News.”

As I wait for the connection to break, my body still rides the high from the raid today and the incredible sex with Beaux. I’m antsy and invigorated for the first time in what feels like forever here, and I sigh out in relief when the feed goes black so I can close down the Skype window on my laptop. Immediately my eyes focus on the iPhoto window open to the most recent downloads page, and I’m once again transfixed by the images Beaux took today that I had asked her to download on my laptop too.

And yes she got the action shots – great panoramas of knock and talks happening at the same time on three different residences, soldiers’ backs with the muzzles of the M4 carbines visible over their shoulders – but she also got those kinds of pictures that make me stop and stare and read what’s beneath the surface. A platoon of soldiers looking weary, the lines on their faces and looks in their eyes depicting both the fear and monotony of their tasks. Villagers peeking out from windows, kids fascinated to see soldiers, and adults leery of their presence. Sergeant Jones giving instructions, the line of his posture and angle of the shot reflecting his authority without a single patch on his uniform in the image.

Then there’s me. The few shots she snuck when I wasn’t looking where the rush I feel from being part of the mission practically leaps off the page. She captured the perfect image of what that buzz Rafe and I talk about looks like, and it’s hard to look away.

Beaux’s muffled voice through the hotel room door pulls me from my fixation on the computer, and I shut it down, my thoughts now focused on her. The sex we had earlier was mind-blowing, but I’m nowhere near satisfied. When it comes to Beaux Croslyn, I have a feeling that no matter how many times she rocks my world, it’s not going to be enough.

So I close the laptop, scoot the chair back, and chuckle at my on-air attire of button-up dress shirt and the khaki shorts and bare feet that the computer camera couldn’t catch. One thing about fieldwork is I don’t have to abide by attire restrictions and wear stuffy suits like the desk anchors. Well that and I get unpredictability and sunshine on a daily basis. Can’t complain about that regardless of where that sunshine is located.

“How could this happen?” Her voice rises in a way that causes me to go and make sure she’s okay, because it doesn’t sound like she is.

The hotel room door is just barely ajar, and I can see her through the crack in the doorjamb. She paces back and forth as she listens to someone, hands gesturing, head shaking, and words being cut off every time she starts to speak by whoever is on the other end of the line. I’m intrigued and don’t mean to snoop, but the only other time I’ve seen her this agitated is with me, so I stand just inside the door and observe, curiosity getting the better of me.

“I told you… I can’t. This is… ugh… Just know I’ll take care of it somehow, okay… but please, no one else can find out…” Her voice drifts off as she turns her back from me, something else being mumbled into the phone that I can’t quite catch. Now I’m definitely all ears. “I know. I know. I call when I can – you can’t be mad at that. It’s not my fault and… Jesus!” She blows out a breath in frustration as she leans against the wall and puts her head back against it with her eyes closed. “He’s going to kick my ass.”

I can feel the tension radiating off her and am incredibly curious about what exactly is going on.