The Master's Choice
The Master’s Choice
by
Abby Gordon
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Master’s Choice
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Abby Gordon
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.wilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, September 2013
Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-103-8
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To the real JW
and to the MBD group
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Abby Gordon
TO SEDUCE AND SATISFY
“If you like an enjoyable erotic romance, get your hands on
To Seduce and Satisfy
and enjoy the ride. There is a lot of heart within the story.…I also found a couple of supporting characters very intriguing and hope to see their story in the future.”
~Manicreaders
MODEL FANTASY
“Fantasy driven, naughty and full of fireworks. …that’s MODEL FANTASY. Ladies, get out the asbestos gloves to handle this book…it’s so hot! If you like BDSM stories… you’ll love this great little story. A hot and spicy read to warm the cold winter nights!”
~Barb, Romance Reviews
BECK AND CALL
“What a fantastic ride from page 1 until the very end. Sassy sex, a hot boss, BDSM, bad guys, friends, a mystery man.…YEAH BABY! Ms. Gordon has penned a story worthy of awards! I was so pulled in that the real world just melted away and the story was my ONLY focus for the duration.”
~ Top Ten for 2010, Seriously Reviewed
Chapter One
The shadows lengthened and the light traffic on the paths dwindled. Sunset came early in the Afghan mountains. Blending in with the brush and rocks around them, two men were focused on the group across the valley.
“That’s the Taliban leader for this province,” breathed the spotter. “He’s turning…now.”
Peering through the scope, JW squeezed the trigger and the brief thhhhppp of the bullet leaving the chamber was softer than a whisper.
“Bingo,” murmured the prone man lying next to the sniper. “One dead Taliban.”
“The group he was with looks a little surprised,” JW replied, lining up his next target. “See any other activity?”
“Nothing. Second bogey is moving out of range though.”
“I see him.” JW had anticipated their reaction and was waiting. He calmly pulled the trigger again, grateful that the rifle’s silencer protected their position.
“Two dead bad guys,” his partner reported to their superiors over the radio. “We’re getting out before…”
“They’re looking for snipers,” JW cut in, packing up his rifle. “Let’s get out before things get hot, Parker.”
Parker carefully inched away from their position and moved along their exit route. JW was right behind him. Neither man made a noise and blended seamlessly into their surroundings. As the men worked their way down the rocky crag, they paused and listened for any sounds of pursuit.
Two hot and dusty hours later, making their way slowly back to HQ, a snap in the brush brought them to a halt. In one movement, both were back-to-back, crouched with their weapons aimed at the rocks around them. Mentally, JW cursed himself. Just because they were within five miles of base was no reason to get sloppy and complacent.
“I didn’t know there were wolves in Afghanistan,” a clipped Boston accent came from JW’s right.
“Friend,” murmured JW to Parker, lowering his weapon and standing. Parker followed suit.
Captain Ben Hancock emerged from behind a large rock. Two steps behind him stood a sergeant who studied them with obvious suspicion. Definitely a friend. The Franklin and Hancock families had known each other since before the Revolution. Ten more men appeared around the new arrivals.
“I didn’t know there were ships in the mountains,” JW replied with a rare smile, referring to the shipping industry that had made the Hancock fortune. “Ben, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Just heading back from patrol. My boy heard you coming. I couldn’t believe that you would be so careless to give up your position, so we set up just in case.” Gesturing to the sergeant behind him, Hancock strode forward and embraced his friend. “Gotta make sure you make it back safely to give Grant a hand.”
“Like hell,” JW snorted. His cousin Grant was constantly trying to get him to join the family firm. JW wasn’t sure what Grant thought he could do. All he knew was the military. Of course, he could always take down those pesky business competitors…the hard way. He’d mentioned it to Grant the last time he’d been home. His cousin had laughed shortly and said not to tempt him.
“Let’s get you back to HQ,” Ben urged before JW could say more.
“What’s happened?” JW could see the tension in the younger man’s eyes.
“Some idiot tried to blow up another commercial plane. The explosives were in his shoes.”
“Tried?” JW frowned. “He wasn’t successful?”
“Passengers stopped him,” Hancock grinned as they walked down the rocky path toward base. Hancock’s men fell into position around them. JW approved of their protectiveness around their leader. And not just because he liked Ben or that he was an officer. If the Taliban knew who Ben was, then they’d realize what kind of prize was under their noses. “United 93’s heroes may have changed the course of history in many ways.”
“Thank God for them,” JW sighed, then frowned at the officer. “Don’t tell me Grant sent you out here to drag me back to New York City.”
“Hell, no!” Ben laughed. “And if he tried, I’d just laugh in his face. There’s as much chance of you working for him as there is of me working for my cousin. And, yeah, Brian brought it up on our last RNR. I told him there was still work to do here.”
“I hear you on that. What other news is there?”
By the time they’d walked the last four miles to the base’s fenced perimeter, Ben had brought them up to speed. The MPs at the main gate eyed JW and Parker suspiciously as they were dressed as natives and had no identification on them.
“Corporal, these men are Americans,” Ben vouched for them. “If you won’t take my word for it…”
“Yes, sir,” one soldier replied, stepping aside to let them through.
“Thanks,” JW muttered.
“No problem,” Ben replied, turning to his soldiers. “Men, go get some food and shut eye. I’ll report in and see where we go next.”
Nodding, his company headed toward their tents. JW nodded at Parker, who headed to their tent. JW continued with Ben to the only wooden structure in the encampment.
“No sign of Bin Laden?” JW wondered hopefully.
“Not yet. Odds are the asshole slipped over into Pakistan. We’ll get him though. It may take a few years, but in this,” Ben paused and looked over at him, “we will not waver in locating and killing the son of a bitch responsible for so many deaths.”
“And God bless the man who pulls the trigger,” JW murmured with conviction.
“Absolutely. How much time you got left on this deployment?”
“As long as I can stay.”
“JW,” Ben started then stopped and shook his head. “You’re not alone, dammit. Your family might not always understand you, I mean you’re a weird duck at the best of times, but they are there for you and accept you for who you are.”
“Yeah, I know,” JW sighed, nodding. “They accept me. But outside of your family and a few others, most people still have trouble with bastards. I could join Grant and Bronson in the company, but I just don’t fit. Besides, Grandfather trained them, not me. Out here…” he looked around and then looked at Ben. “Out here I make a difference. When that is no longer the case, I’ll look for other options.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Ben agreed with a sigh. “We all lost people, JW. We all want vengeance.”
“Hooah.” JW pushed the door of the colonel’s HQ open and they went to report.
****
Ally glared at her therapist.
“No,” she stated firmly. “I refuse to accept that.”
The sixty-something man sighed as he removed his steel-rimmed glasses and cleaned the lenses.
“And that is the root of your problem, Ally. You refuse to accept responsibility for your actions.”
“I didn’t
do
anything. I never have a chance! My ex filed for the annulment because my cousin wouldn’t do business with him. How is that my responsibility? I don’t have anything to do with either of their businesses.”
“Your ex-husband clearly thought you had more influence on your cousin. In that regards, you deceived him.”
Dumbfounded, Ally felt her jaw go slack. “I deceived him? Everyone knows my cousin and I were strangers until two and half years ago. Andrew and Belinda didn’t know about me until—” Choking back the sob that, if it came up, would open the dam of emotions she was constantly fighting to control, Ally turned away.
“Until the car accident that killed your mother, her father, and her brother,” the therapist stated with a shrug. “Your ex had every reason…”
“To blame me for every problem in his life?” Ally questioned. “For traffic? For bad weather? For how the stocks reacted? If he spilled coffee on himself? For not responding to him sexually?”
“Well, that last, yes,” the man replied.
“Well, I’m sorry,” she responded, sarcastically. “But it takes more than wham, bam, thank you ma’am to get me going in bed.”
“So, you think he should have been more romantic? Put a little more effort into things?”
Ally blushed slightly at the turn in the conversation, but nodded.
“Yes, I think he should have. He expected me to be ready anytime he wanted to have sex and if I wasn’t, it was my fault.” She paced around the room, growing angrier with every step. “It wasn’t my fault,” she muttered. “I’m not involved in Andy’s company. Kevin knew that. He had no right to blame me for everything that went wrong in his life.”
“Are you angry, Ally?”
“No,” she replied, shooting a glare at him across the room. “I’m pissed.”
“Well, it’s about damned time.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“Ally, for too long now, you’ve simply accepted what life threw at you. You’d take it and do nothing.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair, putting his steno pad and pen on the table next to him. “Finally, you’re angry. No, I like your word better. Pissed. Now,” he jabbed a finger at her. “What are you going to do about it?”
Ally blinked and collapsed on the couch. “I haven’t the slightest idea,” she admitted.
“Well, it’s a start,” he told her. He bent his right leg so the ankle was resting on his left knee and steepled his fingers as his elbows rested on the shin. “We’ve got the mental part of your recovery moving, and your physical therapy is completed?” He paused until she nodded. “So, it looks like the only thing you need to work on is the sexual part.”
Ally felt the heat of another blush cover her face. “I didn’t think that was your line of work.”
He laughed. “No, it’s not by any stretch of the imagination.” He hesitated, then shrugged as if deciding. “Tell Andy and Belinda what I just said. They’ll know what to suggest.”
“Andy and Belinda?” She frowned. “Why would my cousin and his wife…”
“Trust me, Ally,” he said quietly. “They’ll know.” There was a tap at the door. “Ah, excellent timing. I think we’ve made some real progress today.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He winked at her. “Like you said, that’s not my line of work.”
Her mind elsewhere, Ally stumbled on the sidewalk and slid into the car with all the grace of a three-legged cat. Her ankle twisted and she felt pain shoot up her leg. The chauffer hesitated and looked in before he shut the door.
“Are you all right, Miss Brown?”
Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head, lightly touching her ankle.
“I’ll head straight home unless there’s somewhere else you’d like to go?”
“No, nowhere else,” she whispered. “Just home, please.”
