The Omega Team: Precious Cargo (Kindle Worlds Novella) (7 page)

“It’s not. That’s my nickname. My real name is Marion. My dad was a big John Wayne fan. So when I was born, he named me Marion after John Wayne’s real name, but ended up calling me Duke. The name stuck.”

“Marion.” She said the word as though testing it. “It’s a good name. Do you have any family?”

He didn’t doubt her question was geared toward discovering if he was married. She was, indeed, very much like her father.

“I have a sister who lives in Texas. My parents are alive and living in Louisiana. I have a bunch of relatives there. I think just about everyone who lives in our parish is related to me in one way or another.”

“Oh.” She frowned.

Evidently he hadn’t given her the information she’d wanted.

“If you’re wondering if I have a wife at home, I don’t. I’ve never been married. I don’t have a girlfriend either. Haven’t had one since I graduated from high school. I guess you could say the United States Army was more important to me than chasing the fairer sex. And I want you to know, I’ve not so much as touched another woman since I left Crimea. I’ve had absolutely no desire to.”

Relief seemed to roll off her shoulders.

“Aside from my family, especially my grandmother,” he continued, “I’ve only had one love in my life.”

He paused, letting the statement sink in.

“And I’m happy to say she’s in my arms right now. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. She’s smart, sassy and sexy as hell.” Duke brushed a curly lock of her long brown hair from her cheek to behind her ear, relishing the softness of her skin. “If I play my cards right, I’m hoping she’ll one day she’ll forgive me and love me back.”

Mila looked away.

He said words he’d thought she wanted to hear. Words that would open the door to building trust between them. Words that came straight from his heart.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone.

I want to be with you.

I…I love you.

But, he reminded himself, she had just told him she didn’t know him.

Although he didn’t think there was much to know about him, and what there was to know wasn’t all that important, she clearly thought differently. She needed more time.

Or did she?

Jesus, love was a complicated, unpredictable animal.

“Mila,” he said, turning her face to meet his. “I don’t want you to feel rushed or pressured. I know you need a little time to trust me again. Luckily, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m not planning on going anywhere until you and I have things completely figured out. If that’s okay by you.”

The corners of her lips turned up. A happy light shone brightly in her amber eyes.

He was just about to make another smart-ass comment about how he guessed her smile was her answer, when she stood on tiptoes, placed her hands on both sides of his face and delivered a kiss that left him reeling.

She grabbed his shirt and undid the first button. Then the second.

“I thought you were hungry,” he said on a labored breath. “Wine and all that.”

She glanced up from under dark lashes. “I think I can wait another ten minutes to order.”

“Ten minutes? Darlin’, I may be only a few years shy of forty, but I’m pretty sure I can go longer than ten minutes.”

“Then prove it.”

Duke picked her up and strode to the bed, barely bothering to check where he was stepping. His gaze was trained on hers. Desire burned in his blue-gray eyes, stirring the dozens of butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. He wanted her, and God how she wanted him. The kiss they’d just shared was only a tiny teaser. She was ready for more.

He laid her on the bed, then stepped back while taking her in, from her head to her toes. He reached for the next button on his shirt. She started to protest, wanting the task for herself, but he held a finger to his lips.

“You stay put. Don’t move,” he said, removing his gun and placing it on the side table.

She did as he asked, and watched as he worked loose each button on his shirt, the snap on his jeans, his zipper. With amazing agility, he stood on one leg and tugged at his snakeskin boot until it slipped from his foot, then repeated the process. He withdrew his arms from his shirtsleeves and tossed the garment on the floor. He peeled off his pants, revealing a snug pair of orange boxers.

“Orange?” She couldn’t help but ask. When she’d been with him last, the underwear he’d worn was basic and white. The ones he had on now looked soft, silky, dare she say…expensive?

“Good briefs make me feel energetic when I dress. Kinda sexy, don’t you think?” He waggled his brows.

And he
was
sexy. The sexiest man she’d ever seen. He could have taken her breath and caused her pulse to race wearing filthy rags. And although he bore scars on his back, his torso and his legs, his body was nothing less than magnificent. Long cords of muscle roped up his arms and down his legs. Steely slabs covered his chest and arced in defined rows across his abdomen. Beneath his navel, a smattering of dark blond curls led down to the waistband of his orange underwear. The bulge there providing considerable evidence of a very healthy libido.

She swallowed against her rising anticipation. She’d seen him nude before. Several times. She’d cleaned his wounds when he’d been injured. Bathed him when he couldn’t manage to do so on his own. Made love to him when he was well enough and she could no longer resist her attraction. But two years had passed since the last time they’d been intimate together. Like him, she hadn’t been with any other person since he’d left. Two years was a long time. In some ways, she felt as though she was witnessing a striptease by a handsome stranger. There was a sense of newness. Novelty. Excitement. As well as a touch of inhibition.

Duke bent to remove his briefs. When he stood up, naked and glorious, a cocky half-grin had spread on his face. His penis was thick and erect, and extended well past his golden nest of curls.

Deep within, her heart banged against her ribs, quickening her pulse. Her internal temperature rose, sending heated blood to her skin, her head and the softening juncture between her legs. The simple top and jeans she wore were again as uncomfortable as they had been at the train station. At least now relief was in sight, hopefully in more ways than one.

Mila lifted herself onto her elbows, not wanting to miss the amazing view. His golden hair hung loosely to his shoulders, framing a face chiseled with a strong jawline and high cheekbones. His eyes, now narrowed with desire, bore into hers. With each step, different muscles in his arms, stomach and thighs extended and flexed. His penis swayed with the movement, first right, then to the left and back to the right again. He was simply beautiful.

He sat on the side of the bed, causing the mattress to dip under his added weight. “Now you,” he said, his voice husky.

He carefully removed her shoes, jeans and shirt, letting them fall as they may onto the floor. The lack of clothing and the coolness of the room caused goose pimples to rise all over her exposed body. Her nipples hardened to small peaks.

“Cold?” he asked.

“No,” she lied. If only her lace bra and panties could provide a little more warmth. She’d been on the verge of sweating only a few moments ago. Now she was holding back a shiver. What was he doing to her?

He reached over and rubbed his hands up and down both her arms. Without saying another word, he lowered his head and latched onto one of her breasts. Wet heat penetrated the lace. He sucked, drawing the bud farther into his mouth.

The combination of warmth and gentle tugging coaxed a low groan from Mila. She closed her eyes and arched her back, tempting him to take more. Wanting him to take more.

Shifting his position, he slipped his hands around her sides to behind her back while moving his mouth to her other breast. His stubbly cheeks and chin chaffed her skin, but in the most delicious way. His tongue flitted over her rosy nub, his teeth lightly nipped. Every action he took, large or small, drew her deeper into a passion-hazed trance. The kind that could easily hypnotize her into doing anything he wanted.

She could barely open the lids to her eyes when she felt her bra straps being slipped over her shoulders. She was so lost in her heady fog, she hadn’t noticed when he’d unclasped the hooks in the back.

Duke lifted his head and placed his lips on hers as he effortlessly removed the tiny piece of lingerie. She opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to penetrate and entwine with hers. Over, around, back and forth, the length of their tongues darted and crossed in their own sensual dance.

His hands roamed down the slope of her waist and up the rise of her hips. He tucked fingers around the top string of her panties then broke their kiss to shimmy the barely there undies down her leg.

Several beats passed as he kneeled beside her naked body. He slowly, oh so slowly, raked his gaze over her, as though trying to familiarize himself with each freckle, each curve.

Unexpectedly, he bowed his head, his chin nearly reaching his chest. His hair fell forward, obscuring his face.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

There was a rough, almost raw quality in his voice.

Concerned, she sat up.

“What’s wrong?”

He tilted his face to hers. Between blond locks, she could see deep lines creasing his forehead. The space between his brows was pinched. His appearance held a graveness she’d never seen before.

“My heart.” He attempted a smile, but it fell short, lacking genuine happiness. “I’m sorry. It picked a hell of a time to burst, but it did.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was just sitting here, thinking about how lovely you are, when it dawned on me—I mean it
really
dawned on me—what a lucky man I am.” He let out a cheerless laugh. “You’re fearless. You’re so smart. And you rescued me when I needed you most. Twice. I couldn’t help but wonder again how I deserve you.
If
I deserve you.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised a hand.

“I love you, Mila. God, how I love you. I’m not a man who’s generally comfortable talking about his feelings, but right now my love is so strong, I feel like my heart is coming apart. It’s the damnedest thing.”

Duke Gunnison, the big tough man who had served his country, was naked and kneeling beside her, professing his love.

Her chest squeezed, wringing out even more of the anger and hurt she’d become so accustomed to feeling in regards to him. If she wanted any kind of future with him, she had to let those feelings go.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I wasn’t lying when I told you everything I did, I did for you.”

She believed him. And deep down inside, she knew his true character, didn’t she? That couldn’t be faked. He was a good person. A wise-ass, but a good person.

Yakov. Duke. Marion. What did it matter? She hadn’t fallen for a name. She’d fallen for the man. His hair might be a little longer and there were a few wrinkles around his eyes, but he hadn’t really changed. Not where it mattered. He was still the same person he’d been when she’d met him. The man who had won her heart so long ago. The man who had saved her life only hours before.

Most importantly, he wasn’t pressuring her. He’d told her she could take time to get to know him better. She would do exactly that, as much as she needed. When she was ready for more, she’d tell him.

He was hers. She was his. For now, that was enough.

She breathed in a steadying breath.

“I…I know. I believe you. I really do.”

She may have stuttered a bit, but meant every word.

He blew out a sigh, then combed his fingers through her hair and leaned her back onto the mattress. “You don’t know how much hearing that means to me,” he said, just before he pressed his lips to hers.

She gave herself over to him, without reservation, kissing him back, again and again, stoking the smoldering fire between them. He positioned himself atop her, his hands on the mattress, his arms bracing his weight. With a tap and a light push of his knee, he spread her legs and pressed the rounded tip of his penis inside her. She was more than ready for him. Hot, slick and aching.

Inch by inch, he pushed deeper, moaning into her mouth when he reached his hilt. She rocked her pelvis, encouraging a slow pace. They had all night and their first time together again should be unhurried. Each moment, each second, deliberate and savored.

He seemed to share her sentiment. He filled her with steady, easy thrusts, setting a gentle rhythm that allowed time for nuzzles against her neck, soft touches on his back and meaningful caresses.

Despite their relaxed tempo, light sheens of perspiration developed on their skin, and the urge to find release escalated to a powerful need. Duke’s strokes became stronger and quicker. She gripped his shoulders, finding stability as she lifted her hips with his every downward thrust. Each movement because a sensual collision, building their desire, taking them higher and higher.

“Yes,” she whispered on a jagged exhale. “Take me.”

He complied with a solid, driving buck, and groaned as he pushed them both over the edge into a shattering oblivion.

Her toes curled. Her back arched then lowered to the mattress. Every ounce of energy she’d had only moments before was now spent, leaving her slack but sated. Mila lay beneath Duke’s weight, hearing the rapid beating of her heart in her ears and feeling contentment she hadn’t known in quite some time.

All too soon, he rolled off her, still breathing hard.

“Incredible,” he panted.

“Yes.”

“Food now? More sex later?”

“I love your thinking.”

From the sitting area, a muted buzz sounded. The noise continued, starting and stopping in a fluid pattern.

“Holy shit.” Duke sat bolt upright. “Please tell me that’s your personal cell phone.”

“No. Mine plays music when I receive a call.”

“Did you put the phone Major Mazure gave you in your purse?”

“Yes. He told us to keep them with us at all times.”

Duke jumped out of bed and reached for his jeans.

“Get dressed. We need to get the hell out of here.”