Name: Kendall
Rating: Mature – the characters in this story speak and behave as adults. If you're underage or easily offended, please do not read.
Spoilers: Through Ten Big Ones
Disclaimer: If you recognize the characters then they belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm grateful she's letting me borrow them for a little bit of fun.
SOLDIER
"What's with the smile?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how unbelievably happy I am right now, lying here with you. And also trying to figure out if it would be in poor taste to jump your bones this soon after I'd just finished jumping your bones."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Stephanie's POV
I was kissing my way across Lester's smooth, muscled chest, enjoying the ease at which I could make goose-bumps appear on his skin, when I heard his phone ringing from somewhere within the vicinity of the room. I felt, as much as I heard, the low, frustrated groan that surfaced from deep in his chest.
"Hold that thought, beautiful. This might be important," he said as he eased me off of him. He sat up in bed, turning his back to me, and let his feet touch the floor. He rubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to regain his sensibilities, and I watched as the muscles in his back danced at the slight movement. He leaned down to pick up his jeans and dig the phone out from one of the pockets. He flipped it open, offered a short, mono-syllabic greeting and listened to whoever was on the other line.
"I'll meet you there in thirty," he said after a few seconds and then flipped the phone shut.
I scooted up in the bed so that I was sitting against the headboard and pulled the covers up, tucking them under my arms in an effort to quell the sudden chill in the air. The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped several degrees, both from the loss of his body heat next to mine and the oncoming storm that had seemed to develop out of nowhere. As if on cue, another rumble of thunder sounded from the not-so-far distance.
"You're not leaving, are you?" I asked, frowning my displeasure at the idea.
"The guys are setting up surveillance on the Baxter warehouse tonight. I want to be there to familiarize myself with the layout of the building. I don't need any surprises tomorrow." He turned back to me and, bracing himself with one arm on either side of my legs, leaned in and captured my mouth in a tantalizing kiss. "Can the bones-jumping wait? I won't be gone long." Without waiting for an answer, he stood and moved past me into his closet.
"I want to come with you," I said to his retreating back. When he didn't answer, I added, "I won't be in the way, I promise."
He leaned out of the closet and looked at me. He'd pulled on a pair of pristine white Calvin Klein boxers that accentuated his dark skin-tone. They were riding almost obscenely low on his hips, hinting at the impressive equipment hidden underneath and nearly causing me to lose my train of thought. Damn, the man knew how to work a pair of Calvin's.
"Baby, there's nothing for you to do," he said as he pulled a charcoal grey t-shirt on over his head and down his torso. It fit him like a second skin, clearly defining the well-toned muscles in his chest and arms. The shirt said ARMY in bold block letters across his chest and it wasn't unlike the one I'd worn earlier in the day. I imagine he's got a whole drawer full of the shirts left over from his stint in the military. "It's a simple process, and it really isn't gonna take very long."
"I'm good with simple. I specialize in simple. Please, Lester, I want to be a part of this. Let me help."
He looked as if he was debating with himself and I wondered how long it would take him to reach the same conclusion I had - I was going with or without his approval.
"Alright," he said on a sigh, clearly recognizing defeat. "You can come."
I threw the covers back and jumped out of bed, no longer feeling cold nor the slightest bit of modesty at being naked. I went to him and wrapped my arms around his neck.
"Thank you, Lester. I promise to be really, really good. And then," I said, running my index finger down his chest until I reached the top of his boxers. I hooked my finger in the waistband and pulled them away from his body as I glanced down and took a peek inside. Impressive, indeed. I looked up at him with what he likes to call my 'bedroom eyes' and seductively licked my lips. "When we get back home, I promise to be really, really bad."
He grinned and, as I turned to walk away, he reached out and smacked me on the ass. "Wear something dark and don't forget your gun."
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"Oh, gross! What is that smell?" I asked as a wave of nausea washed over me. I covered my mouth and nose with my hand, fearing that my lunch was going to make a repeat appearance.
"Fish. The guns were smuggled here on fishing boats."
Lester and I were standing in the middle of Scully's hidden bunker beneath the main floor of the warehouse. The room was small, maybe eight foot by six foot at the most, and the putrid stench of dead fish permeated the air. The entrance to the bunker was disguised as an air vent near the base of a wall and we'd had to shimmy ourselves through the narrow duct to gain access. I'm not sure how Lester managed to fit his broad shoulders through, as I barely seemed to fit. The long string of curse words that had come out of his mouth at the time told me it hadn't been a comfortable process.
The only illumination in the room was the pale, yellow glow produced by the mag light Lester was yielding. He had it pointed towards a stack of cases in the corner of the room. The cases looked like the kind you haul musical instruments in and were big enough to hold several handguns each, but small enough to fit through the air vent. They appeared to be stacked six or seven high, five across, and at least a few rows deep. And they smelled like dead fish.
I took a step forward towards the cases and my knee banged into some sort of hard surface. "Son of a…" I muttered as I grabbed my knee, sure that a nice bruise was already forming. The movement caused me to lose balance and I tripped over whatever it was I'd banged into. Arms flailing, I managed to strike something with my forearm and send it crashing to the floor. I landed with a thud on the hard concrete.
The overhead light flickered on and I glanced up to see Lester standing with a grin on his face, clearly trying not to laugh. My legs were tangled up in the rungs of a wooden stool and the remnants of a picture frame lay broken a few feet away from where I'd knocked it off of a folding TV tray. The tray and the wooden stool were the only furniture in the room.
"You alright?" Lester asked, his eyes crinkled in silent laughter.
I narrowed my eyes. "Couldn't have managed to turn that light on a little sooner, could you?"
He offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet, planting a kiss on my forehead as he did so. "I had to make sure there were no windows. We're trying not to let everyone within a six-mile radius know that we're here."
I wiped my hands on the butt of my jeans and turned back to the cases, eager to move on from my embarrassing wipe-out. "These the guns?"
"These are the guns. Assuming all the cases are full, there are too many here for just the Slayers. That's good. It means he hasn't moved the rest of them yet."
"Are we going to confiscate them?"
"No. We need Scully to hand them off to the Slayers if we're gonna bring all sides down."
Makes sense I guess.
I watched as Lester pulled on a pair of gloves and opened one of the cases. He lifted a high-powered handgun out of the case and held it up for examination. He traced his finger tip along the barrel, and his eyes darkened to black as he turned the gun over in his hand, gently caressing the hard, shiny metal. I've seen that look before. It was pure male, pure testosterone…and it was usually directed at me.
Was it wrong to be jealous of a handgun?
I felt my heartbeat ratchet up a notch or twenty and the temperature in the tiny, underground bunker seemed to suddenly skyrocket. I couldn't believe I was getting turned on by this, but watching him standing there, in his element, wearing swat clothes and holding a deadly weapon with such ease and adoration, made me want to get him naked and do dirty, whorish things to him.
After a few moments, he placed the gun back in the case, latched it and turned to me. He regarded me for a second before asking, "You okay?"
"Mmhmm."
"You look…flushed."
I dismissed the comment with a casual wave of my hand and tried to compose myself. "No, I'm fine."
He looked at me a little skeptically and then shook his head slightly as if to say, okay, crazy woman. "Can you help me look inside these cases then? I want to get an idea of how many guns we're talking about."
Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten we were here on a mission. I slipped my gloves on and we spent the next twenty minutes inventorying the guns. In total we counted roughly 250 handguns, 100 Rambo-style machine guns – Lester calls them M60s – and 100 sniper rifles inside the cases. He returned the last of the cases to the pile and did a once-over to make sure it looked the same as we'd found it.
In order to help in that effort, I had to clean up the mess I'd made when I fell. I bent to pick up the broken glass when I felt Lester press into me from behind, his hands grasping my hips. I stood up and felt him kiss me below the ear.
"What turned you on back there, Steph? Was it watching me with that gun?" He began tracing circles along my jaw with his tongue, grazing my skin gently with his teeth. When I didn't respond, he continued. "I want to know everything that turns you on. I want to know every one of your buttons. Tell me, Steph. Tell me what turns you on."
"You," I breathed. "You turn me on."
"I can still taste you on my tongue," he whispered.
My body shuddered and I pressed back into him, letting my head drop onto his shoulder. He lowered his head further and began kissing my neck. He fisted his hand in my hair and gently pulled my head to the side, exposing my neck even further to him. He nipped along my jawline, grazing me with his teeth and sending shivers through my body. With one hand, he palmed my breast roughly through my shirt. His other hand made its way down to the waistband of my jeans, where he popped the button and slipped his hand inside and beneath my panties. Without waisting time, his long fingers began stroking my center, alternatively dipping inside of me and then firmly rubbing my clit in tight circles. He worked quickly, knowing exactly how to touch me in order to get me worked into a frenzy in the shortest possible time.
Feeling my legs start to get shaky, I had to reach behind me and hold onto his neck for support.
"Dammit, beautiful, you're so wet. Is that for me? Are you wet for me?"
"Yes," I practically moaned. I was already so close and my need to orgasm was almost painful. He pinched my nipple through my shirt. "Oh, god, yes."
"You're so fucking hot," he whispered. In the distance I heard the metal vent cover bang and then a voice echo through the ventilation duct.
"Yo, Santos, you down here?" Crap. It was Bobby.
"I can feel how close you are," he continued whispering. "Just let it go. Let me take you over the edge." Then he lifted his head and yelled back to Bobby, "Yeah, man, I'm here."
"I'm coming down," came the reply, much to my horror.
I tried to pull away, but Lester held me firmly against him, his fingers not missing a beat.
"Stay with me, Steph," he whispered, pinching my nipple even harder. The fingers of his other hand picked up speed as they moved furiously over me, gliding smoothly thanks to the flood he was creating between my legs. Then suddenly, he stopped his frantic movement and pressed down hard, right over my clit. "Now," he said, as he bit down on the pulse point of my neck.
"Oh, god" I gasped as my body shattered beneath his hands. He held me tight as I fell limply against him, my body quivering from the intensity of the encounter. Evidence of his arousal was pressed into my back and I almost felt sorry that he wasn't going to be getting any relief for the time being, but then I remember he was the one who called out to Bobby.
He slid his hand out of my pants and turned me towards him, wrapping me in his arms, just as Bobby came crawling into the room through the narrow air duct. I buried my head in Lester's chest, trying to hide my flushed skin. I knew I had 'satisfied' written all over my face and I didn't feel like parading that fact out in the open, especially to Bobby. I'd never hear the end of it from him.
"There you guys are. Is everything okay?" Bobby asked in a concerned voice.
I felt Lester nod his head and rub his hands over my back. His voice was somber when he spoke. "She's just scared and really upset about what's going on."
Scared? Upset? I buried my head further into Lester's chest and had to bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.
"Shit, Steph," Bobby said. His voice sounded anguished. "I know you're worried, but everything is gonna be fine. Please don't be upset, sweetheart."
I started shaking with silent laugher. I couldn't believe Lester's lame attempt to hide what we'd been doing was working. Bobby really thought Lester was consoling me.
"C'mon, kid. Nothing is going to happen to you or Lester," Bobby continued, obviously mistaking my silent laughter for sobbing. "We won't let it. Just take some deep breaths, Steph. It'll be alright. Please don't cry."
That was it. I lost it. I tried to suppress my laughter, but it ended up coming out in a high-pitched squeak.
"Shhh, Steph. It's alright, beautiful. I've got you," Lester said soothingly as he continued to rub my back. Then to Bobby, he said, "Just tell the guys we'll be out in a minute."
"Take your time, man. We understand."
A few seconds later, I felt Lester release me. I turned around to find Bobby gone and then I heard the hinged vent cover at the other end of the duct slam back into place. Lester and I looked at each other and we both burst out laughing. I punched him in the arm. "I can't believe you. You're such a jerk," I said, my laughter letting him know I wasn't serious.
"Yeah, but I'm a jerk who can take you from zero to sixty in 3.5 seconds," he said cockily.
He had a point. Truth is he'd taken me well beyond sixty, but I didn't think it necessary for his ego to mention that. "Sometimes it's not all about going fast," I said instead.
"You didn't like it?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and the crooked grin firmly in place.
"That's not the point."
His smile widened and I rolled my eyes. "You're such a jerk."
He grabbed me and pressed his mouth forcefully against mine, taking me by surprise. Almost at once, and more out of instinct than conscious thought, I melted into him and he eased the kiss, turning it from hard and demanding to soft and sensual. The several days worth of stubble that still graced his face stabbed abrasively at my lips, but the tenderness with which he kissed the pain away more than made up for it.
He looked at me through hooded eyes. "Have no doubts about it, Stephanie. The next time I touch you, I'm going to be very slow and very thorough. I'm going to take my time. I'm going to take…kiss…all…kiss…night."
His tongue seeked entrance to my mouth and I parted me lips to him. The combination of his tongue and, what I knew to be, the truth of his words caused my body to shudder once again. I had first-hand knowledge of just what he could do when given the time and the opportunity. And I couldn't help but get the feeling that he was taking this as a challenge, which meant that whatever I'd experienced to this point…I hadn't seen nothing yet.
He broke the kiss and stepped around me, leaving me breathless and more than a little dazed. "Alright, let's clean up that broken glass and get out of here," he said, nodding his head in the direction of where I'd taken my spill.
Kneeling, we collected the large pieces of broken glass and I returned the empty frame to the table from which it had sat. The accompanying picture was nowhere to be seen, so, after we hastily swept the remaining glass shards away with our feet, I got down on my hands and knees to see if I could find it. I spotted something a few feet away partially hidden by an empty cardboard box. Grabbing the photograph, I held it out so we both could see. Our eyes went from the photo to each other and I could feel my heart pounding in my ears.
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Thanks for reading. This is a short one to hopefully kick my muse in the behind. I'd love to hear what you thought!