Ice (Elite Forces #1) Page 3

  “Look. I saw him standing outside your tent when I left you. If you didn’t fuck 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 fuck with me, Captain. Trust me, the consequences will be much more detrimental to your health than being out here in the middle of bum-fuck-no-where-land. And don’t ever let me catch that bastard sniffing around your sweet pussy 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 fucking 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 asshole 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 asshole.

  As he continues to talk, I get lost in him. I can't help it. His ass is so perfectly fit in those fatigues. I've always been a sucker for a man that's in extreme condition. His swagger is unusual for the Army. Normally, everyone is so straight-laced and perfect in their posture. He's more relaxed than I'm used to seeing.

  "Follow me to my headquarters. I have a room set up where we'll be able to share the intel needed. At ease, soldiers."

  I fall in behind the others and work to slow down my beating heart. We file into a small room with a few tables and the most modernized technology I've seen in a few months. Harris ends up right next to me, and we both watch the Commander, taking in every detail he provides.

  He spends his time showing us profiles of the enemy, including any pictures available of their families. My heart aches at the thought of any of the women or children getting mixed up in all of this, but often these idiots throw them into our line of fire on their own. This is the way they were raised, trained to kill the enemy. It’s drilled into their heads by the idiot cowards that lead this country. Some of these children are given no choice. You either become part of their military or you die. It's something I'll never get used to and thankfully being an American, I'll never have to face that in my own country.

  "Name is Maverick. Before the day is over and this mission officially begins, you'll know everything you need to know about me." His eyes meet mine, and we both smile just slightly. Harris slides his foot over to mine and pushes on my boot until I turn to look at him. He wipes his mouth, mocking me, and it honestly irritates me. I whisper to him, “Shut the fuck up”... just before Maverick calls attention to me.

  "Elliott. Did you have something to add to this briefing?"

  "No, Sir." The 'Sir' comes out firm and loud. For some reason, I know I'm in big shit for that. I'm going to kick Harris' ass for getting me into this.

  Maverick is silent as he stares in my direction. His eyes fall to my feet under the table where Harris' boot is next to mine before I can pull it away.

  "Team dismissed for condition training. Everyone report back here at 1900 hours. Elliott, I need to see you in my office." Shit.

  Chapter Three

  JADE

  I step inside the small room again; this time, it’s even darker than it was last night. He doesn't have the lantern lit and the sun will be setting soon.

  There's sweat still dripping from my body from being in the sweltering temperature of the direct sun earlier, so I welcome the darkness.

  "CLOSE THE DOOR!" The volume of his voice coming from behind me makes me jump. I didn't realize he was in the room already. Harris held me up after we were dismissed, and even though I was trying to beat him over here, it's apparent I failed. I follow his order before standing at attention while I wait for his direction.

  He walks quickly toward me, looking angry with his mean glare and an obvious frown on his face. He stops directly in front of me. I mean, like one inch in front of my face. I’m not about to let him know that his scent drives me insane. There’s no hint of cologne, no soap. Commander Maverick smells like all man. Pure fucking man. I stand solid, preparing myself for whatever he spews at me next.

  "Do you fucking think this is a joke?" The snarl on his face is terrifying. I'm trained for shit like this, but damn it, why do I love having him this close to me? I’d give anything to be able to bite on his lower lip and dig my hands through his hair, but I won’t. He has no idea what’s running through my head. Like I said. I. Am. Trained. For. This.

  "No, Sir."

  "Then why are you teasing me?" What’s he talking about?

  "I'm not sure what you're referring to, Sir." It hits me then. Harris. Kaleb Maverick is fucking jealous.

  He lowers his hand until he's touching me between my legs. All thoughts of his jealousy are traveling away with the dust. He drags his fingers across the front of my camos, stopping when he finds my clit, pinching, agonizingly and
slowly before he begins to talk again. "This is mine." He removes his fingers, scaling them tortuously up my stomach, the other hand joining in, until both of his hands start to palm my breasts and flick both of my nipples into desperation before he breathes his next words against my neck. "These are mine."

  He slides his right hand up my chest, allowing his fingers to circle around my neck. "This is mine." Then he tangles his other hand in my bun, yanking out the elastic that's holding it into place. His fingers pull harshly at the knots, sending slight pain into my scalp. He yanks my hair back, causing my eyes to meet his as he towers over me. "This is mine. I'm the only one who gets to feel your fucking hair as you slide it across my skin."

  His touch isn’t gentle. It’s demanding, rough, and it has my skin on fire, burning and smoldering into an ache for more.

  He flips me around to face away from him just before his hard body crashes into mine, causing us both to stumble forward until we're against the wall. The cool planes of the wall do nothing to cool the flaming desire I have.

  I turn my face so that it's my cheek against the concrete. My nipples slide against my shirt with each deep breath I take. His hand glides down my body again until he's filled his palm with my ass. "This will be mine soon. I can fucking promise you that." His hard cock grinding into the crevice of my ass leaves my mind fraying like a nylon rope, my pussy pulsing, and images I’ve never even thought of before scattering across my fog-induced brain.

  He's consumed me. I came in here with the plan to never let him touch me again, and in literally ten seconds, he has me begging inside. I want him to devour me, and I want to fucking devour him.

  Our deep, desperate breaths match up as he moves his face next to mine. He pulls my lips toward his and turns me around to face him just before our lips have the chance to touch. He takes a step back.

  I plaster my back against the wall, palms at my sides, and welcome the scrape across my skin as I move. Right now, I'm thankful for this wall. I'm not really sure if I would be standing without it. Oh, I’m shaking alright, quivering even. I feel my knees knocking, my heart is pounding and skipping around in my chest.

  He's watching me; I can feel his eyes move over my body, while I can't seem to move mine from watching his chest sink with each exhale. Fuck me, he’s just as affected as I am. He’s driving me crazy inside as I lose the battle of standing strong against his advances. I know how good he feels, and my body won’t allow me to even consider denying myself the pleasure he can bring.

  "Take off your shirt." I move with confidence at his demand. "Bra too." I expose myself bare to him. His penetrating gaze shifts from my face to my neck, then locks onto my heaving chest. My nipples seem to beg for his command as they harden to an excruciating need of pain. I wait for him to say something. Touch something. Fucking do some...thing. Any damn thing.

  I begin to fight myself internally, the need to be touched or touch myself driving me out of my ever-loving mind. I refrain from taking the step to show him I’m weak at the moment. I'm stronger than this shit. I don't need a man. I don't fucking wait for a man. And I sure as fuck don't beg for a man.... that is until him, but he doesn't need to know that.

  He steps toward me once again, grinding his cock into me, sliding me up the wall as he does. His beard is soft against my neck as he trails his tongue down toward my chest. My once heated skin chills everywhere with his touch.

  "What is your pretty little head thinking? Are you craving this?" He rolls his hips forward, grinding his bulge against me, sending my eyes closed and a frantic internal plea for him to do it again. He does, and I run my fingers through his hair and moan against his ear when he reaches between us to tug at my belt.

  My pants slide down, and I kick my boots off to free my legs entirely. If that doesn’t answer his question, then I don’t know what the hell will. He grabs his own belt, tugs it loose, and I watch his sturdy fingers make a hasty effort to lose his pants. Son of a bitch, not only do I have one hell of a Commander to look at, I’ve also been hit with a man who wants to fuck me again.

  He steps back again to watch me. Standing here completely naked is new to me. I've never treated sex any differently than fulfilling a need, then moving on. His stare is intense, touching parts of me that have never been touched. Inside shit that I'm not sure I like being affected... and it's starting to make me nervous, which is a new emotion for me. I’m confident in every damn thing I do, so why is it so different with him? He’s not any better than I am.

  "Why are you watching me like that?" I ask angrily.

  "Because I can."

  "What if I don't like it?" I snap. Why is he taking so long to move to me? Has he changed his mind now that I’m ass naked in front of him?

  "You'd better get used to it." He's so fucking self-assured, standing there in front of me, stroking his cock. With a cock like that, he's sure to be confident. I watch him as he continues to stroke it and can't help but look forward to feeling him fill me once again. I know it’ll be raw, hard fucking with him, apparently just how I like it.

  I grow impatient and decide to move forward on him. My hands grip his strong shoulders and he picks me up until my legs are wrapped around his waist. He steps forward until I'm against the wall again, then slides his bare cock inside me. I gasp from the sudden intrusion that stretches me wide, but I love how he makes me feel as he moves inside me.

  I pull back once I realize what he’s done. I do everything I can to try to stop him, but my strength up against his holds no power here at all. "Fuck. What are you doing?" I plead as I try to pull away from him with my back against the wall.

  "I know you're clean. I know you can't get pregnant because you've had the shot, and I'll be damned if I fuck you with a condom ever again." He pulls back before thrusting into me harder than before, filling me instantly.

  "Fuck. You feel so fucking good on my dick. Just like I knew you would." Oh my god. The urge to scream claws up my throat. His name is right there on the tip of my tongue, and I’m fighting like hell not to yell while he fills me completely.

  He begins to fuck me fast and hard with one of his hands gripping my ass, the other pulling on my hair. My back scrapes against the rough wall with every thrust, but I don't dare stop him. The burn of the scratches increases my sensitivity to him, and I can't stop the screaming from my mouth when I start to orgasm.

  He wraps his hand over my mouth, never once slowing down as he starts to fuck me even harder. I bite down on his palm and he groans, obviously loving my reaction.

  "Oh yeahhhh. I can't wait to fuck you when I don't have to hide that gorgeous sound coming from your lips." His words are a growl while he pounds into me over and over. My second orgasm hits and again, I can't control it. Fuck. His cock hits me perfectly like this. It's like he's angled with the exact purpose to hit my G-spot. I feel my inner walls tightening and pulsing around his length as he continues to fuck me with purpose.

  "Fuckkkkkkkk." I try to pull back from him because I know I'm about to lose it. I can't control this level of buildup and know shit is about to get crazy. He pulls me closer, never letting up. Fucking me intensely and vigorously, pounding relentlessly into me.

  He throws his hand over my mouth once again. "Next time you're getting a ball gag." I dig my nails into his back, trying to hold it all in. Fuck, I've never been fucked like this. He knows how to do this, and I'm pretty sure he's just ruined me for life. I'll always compare sex to this feeling right fucking here.

  He groans a few times just before I feel his warmth inside me. He soon finds his release and slowly stills himself. That's a first too. I've never dropped my guard enough to let a man pour himself inside me. It's a control thing, and it's obvious I've lost all fucking control.

  He holds me while we both steady our breathing. Both exploring each other with our eyes as we do. I fucking hate and love what this man does to me. Damn him for having this much control.

  He lets me down, sliding his black t-shirt over his head before he tosses it to
me. "Here, use this to clean up. Even though I’d love for you to smell like me, sex is like a weapon out here. It’s as deadly as the scent of a woman. And trust me, Jade, your scent alone can drive a man to his goddamn knees." I'm frozen in this spot. His words practically paralyze me, but the sight of his tattoos shocks me. He’s very naked, yet covered in tattoos on his back, arms, and most of his chest. His legs have a few and frankly look out of place on his otherwise insanely inked canvas.

  "Holy shit. Your tattoos." I’m lost in them.

  "Yeah. I have a few." When he starts to pull up his pants, I just want to stop him and inspect every single tattoo on his perfect body.

  Words fail me as my eyes try to take in everything I'm seeing. This is an unheard-of amount of tattoos for the Army.

  "I can't stop looking."

  "You'll have to, Captain. We have shit to do. We'll be here for days if you try to see them all. And if you keep looking at me that way, my cock will be hard again in no time." Oh hell. I’m intrigued now. I need to at least ask about one of them.

  "Ok. Let's start with one. Which one is your favorite?" I question with curiosity.

  "My MOM tattoo. Hands down." Awe shit.... he loves his mom. Maybe he’s not the hard-ass he wants people to think he is.

  "That's awesome. I bet she's proud of you for that." He nods. He doesn't elaborate or give any further detail, while I continue to stare in disbelief and getting dressed at the same time. There's something to this guy. His beard is longer than usual... and those tattoos are everywhere. Yes. They would be covered in a uniform, but there’s something else about him. I’m dying to find out who is behind the mask of Kaleb Maverick.

  "Who are you really?" By the way he arches his brow and stiffens his spine, I would say this question surprises him.

  "What do you mean by that, Captain?" His tone is challenging.

  "You're bigger than all the guys here. You're tattooed almost completely, and that beard of yours shouldn't be allowed." He looks at me like he's trying to decide how to answer.