Page 6 of Hostile Rival
“I won’t tell anyone if you finger yourself, right here, right now, soldier.” I taunt. “Give your pretty pussy what it wants.”
She laughs under her breath, lifts her leg, sets her foot on the toilet seat, and buckles a black leather knife holder to her ankle instead.
“This situation proves you're led by your dick and not your brain. You’re easily distracted, which puts the rest of us in danger when we’re on a mission together. After tonight, I guarantee you won’t be around. You’ll never get through your initiation kill.”
“Or maybe while you were living out a horny fantasy with a hot frat boy, I was figuring you out.” I shrug with indifference. “While you stared at my boner, your throat worked harder because your mouth was watering. And while your muscles tensed, struggling to keep your hands to yourself, I studied each of your tattoos. I watched that vein in your neck thrum from the excitement of being close to me.”
I cock my head, swallow my revved-up impulses, and stop short of grabbing one of her tits.
“I noticed how your breathing got faster when I came on my hand. And even though you tried so very hard to hide it, I sensed lust hissing under your skin too. We all have weaknesses, Buffy,” I grit out, my composure strained. “Yours might just be me.”
Snatching a towel to wipe myself, I keep eye contact all while smirking. She narrows her eyes, shooting daggers at me.
“You?” She laughs. “God no. You’re not my type or my weakness. I wasn’t turned on by that in the slightest. Whereas you—you were panting like a dog waiting for a treat.”
“I get turned on by naked women with attitude. It’s not personal.” I continue, running my clean hand through my hair. “You’d say I was distracted. Only I would disagree, saying I was getting to know what makes my roomie tick.”
She shakes her head from side to side. “You're afraid I’m the better soldier…huh, smartass? You want to believe I have a weakness, since it would make you feel better. Am I right? Because you don’t want to admit that a woman could kick your ass.”
In one slow, purposeful sweep, I take in her physique. From the tips of her hair to her folded torso and perky tits. She doesn’t even try to hide the neatly shorn pubic hairs between her thighs, so confident in the fact her body is to die for.
She’s beautiful, and the only woman who’s ever dominated me in any way. But no matter how hot our encounter, we’re done now, permanently. She can’t be trusted, and I’d protect my family if I had to with my life.
“Tell me, little firecracker, why did you save me at Blackwater?” I toss a towel on the floor and stalk a bit closer.
Buffalo returns her foot to the floor, grabs a silk robe from a hook on the wall, and covers herself. She hides the curves I’ve already memorized for the next time I feel the need to jerk off.
“It was an order from my commander.” She shrugs. “Kill the enemy and protect his family. That’s all.” Tying the belt around her middle, her eyes settle on my chest. “Had the order been to kill you, then I would have happily shot you straight in your pretty boy face. No regrets.”
“You’d ruin this face?” I prowl even closer, playing with her now.
“Yeah, Crow. I’d shoot you…” She reaches up and lightly presses the tip of her forefinger to my brow. “Right here.”
The second her finger settles, she swallows hard, her long inky lashes bat wildly, and she pulls away faster than a flash of lightning. “Stay the hell out of my way, Crow. Got it?”
Tilting my head to the side, my gaze drops to her lips. “Unless you plan to build a wall between our beds, that might be tricky. If you’re not happy with the arrangement, sleep on the couch.”
“I was here first. You share the couch with Hunter. Oistin snores like a pig, so he crashes there when he’s around.”
“No can do.”I’m sticking to you like glue, little firecracker.
“Asshole,” she mutters to herself, and then her tone turns deadly. “Get your shit off my bed or I’ll burn it.”
3
DANIELA
PAST
“Depending on what casket you pick and whether you want a traditional burial, the cost would be around ten thousand dollars,” the guy on the other end of the phone explains. “What’s your budget and I’ll do my best to help you arrange a memorable funeral?”
Try zero dollars. Well, it's actually minus eight thousand dollars, to be exact.
“Eh…I need to go through my mother’s accounts first and see what I can scrape together.”
I’d already spent all of her savings on illegal medications to treat her crippling pain and fell behind on the rent. A few months ago, I had to borrow three grand or we would have ended up homeless too.
“What about cremation?” I ask, my stomach in knots at the thought of mama’s corpse being incinerated.
