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Authors: Kaylea Cross
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boots. Lying alone in the rumpled blankets with the evidence of her unfulfilled arousal drying on the condom and his inner thighs, he felt cold. He felt...used.
She didn’t look at him until she was securing her hair into a bun at the back of her neck. Her closed expression gave him no clue as to what she was thinking or feeling. “See you.”
Pissed off and at a loss about what to do about it, all he could say was, “Yeah.”
Without another word or even a backward glance, Maya strode to the tent flaps and stepped through with a calm, “Hey.”
A second later Cam stepped inside, rubbernecking Maya’s retreating figure. Jackson blew out a long breath, and his buddy turned around to gape at him with a stunned look on his face. “So, I didn’t see anything,” he blurted, hands raised in self-defense.
Jackson was too tired and annoyed to manage a laugh. “Nope.”
Cam crossed to his bunk and sat down, his boots landing with a thud as he tossed them onto the wooden floor. A moment later the covers rustled, and then all was still. “Night.” Jackson could hear the grin in the bastard’s voice.
“Night,” he grunted, and scrubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck had just happened? Why had Maya sought him out—and here in the so-called “secure” confines of the Spec Ops area—just to fuck him and get him off without getting anything out of it in return? Except power or control, or whatever the hell she’d been after. For the first time that he could remember, he was completely out of his depth with a woman. Wasn’t that a kick in the ass?
Though he’d just had the best orgasm of his life, he’d never felt less satisfied.
Chapter Five
Climbing down from the cab of the old Toyota pickup, Khalid took a cardboard box from the front seat and carried it to the rear of their camp. His men were gathered around a small fire, cooking their evening meal when he approached.
Mohammed glanced up, a wide smile breaking over his face when he saw what Khalid carried. “You have them?”
Khalid nodded and surveyed his troops. Mostly young men in their late teens and early twenties. There had been more in the fall, but the majority of the older ones had been sacrificed in the previous operation to eliminate Nasrallah. Those remaining were motivated, fair marksmen and, more importantly, completely loyal to him.
A cool wind picked up, ruffling his hair and making the flames crackle and leap within their stone pit. “I have received word from Rahim’s people that tomorrow’s operation is a definite go. Are you all ready?”
A chorus of excited voices answered him in the affirmative.
He held up a hand for silence. “We leave an hour before dawn, in the groups I’ve divided you into. Mohammed will lead the last group to ensure our escape route is clear.” Across the fire, the boy’s eyes shone with pride at being given command of his own group. “We have only one chance to execute this properly. You all know what is expected of you—what I expect from you as men and soldiers. Prepare yourselves accordingly with prayer.”
He paused to let his gaze carry over the circle of men, the rise of excitement warm in his veins. “And now for those of you who will accompany me into the village, something to help you on our journey to rid our land of the unbelievers.” He opened the box flap and reached inside for the item on top. Smiling, he held up the first of five camouflage-patterned jackets of the Afghan National Army for everyone to see.
* * *
Above the powerful pulse of the Black Hawk’s rotors, Jackson listened to Cam and his other fellow passengers bullshit over their headsets as the helo flared above their LZ and hovered a moment before touching down. The pilots shut down the engines, and everyone took off their headsets and collected their gear in preparation to disembark. Just as well, since he didn’t much feel like talking to anyone anyhow.
Shouldering his heavy ruck and a duffel he’d stuffed
She didn’t look at him until she was securing her hair into a bun at the back of her neck. Her closed expression gave him no clue as to what she was thinking or feeling. “See you.”
Pissed off and at a loss about what to do about it, all he could say was, “Yeah.”
Without another word or even a backward glance, Maya strode to the tent flaps and stepped through with a calm, “Hey.”
A second later Cam stepped inside, rubbernecking Maya’s retreating figure. Jackson blew out a long breath, and his buddy turned around to gape at him with a stunned look on his face. “So, I didn’t see anything,” he blurted, hands raised in self-defense.
Jackson was too tired and annoyed to manage a laugh. “Nope.”
Cam crossed to his bunk and sat down, his boots landing with a thud as he tossed them onto the wooden floor. A moment later the covers rustled, and then all was still. “Night.” Jackson could hear the grin in the bastard’s voice.
“Night,” he grunted, and scrubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck had just happened? Why had Maya sought him out—and here in the so-called “secure” confines of the Spec Ops area—just to fuck him and get him off without getting anything out of it in return? Except power or control, or whatever the hell she’d been after. For the first time that he could remember, he was completely out of his depth with a woman. Wasn’t that a kick in the ass?
Though he’d just had the best orgasm of his life, he’d never felt less satisfied.
Chapter Five
Climbing down from the cab of the old Toyota pickup, Khalid took a cardboard box from the front seat and carried it to the rear of their camp. His men were gathered around a small fire, cooking their evening meal when he approached.
Mohammed glanced up, a wide smile breaking over his face when he saw what Khalid carried. “You have them?”
Khalid nodded and surveyed his troops. Mostly young men in their late teens and early twenties. There had been more in the fall, but the majority of the older ones had been sacrificed in the previous operation to eliminate Nasrallah. Those remaining were motivated, fair marksmen and, more importantly, completely loyal to him.
A cool wind picked up, ruffling his hair and making the flames crackle and leap within their stone pit. “I have received word from Rahim’s people that tomorrow’s operation is a definite go. Are you all ready?”
A chorus of excited voices answered him in the affirmative.
He held up a hand for silence. “We leave an hour before dawn, in the groups I’ve divided you into. Mohammed will lead the last group to ensure our escape route is clear.” Across the fire, the boy’s eyes shone with pride at being given command of his own group. “We have only one chance to execute this properly. You all know what is expected of you—what I expect from you as men and soldiers. Prepare yourselves accordingly with prayer.”
He paused to let his gaze carry over the circle of men, the rise of excitement warm in his veins. “And now for those of you who will accompany me into the village, something to help you on our journey to rid our land of the unbelievers.” He opened the box flap and reached inside for the item on top. Smiling, he held up the first of five camouflage-patterned jackets of the Afghan National Army for everyone to see.
* * *
Above the powerful pulse of the Black Hawk’s rotors, Jackson listened to Cam and his other fellow passengers bullshit over their headsets as the helo flared above their LZ and hovered a moment before touching down. The pilots shut down the engines, and everyone took off their headsets and collected their gear in preparation to disembark. Just as well, since he didn’t much feel like talking to anyone anyhow.
Shouldering his heavy ruck and a duffel he’d stuffed
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