Author's Notes: Currently rated PG but will have a rating of R for later
chapters.
Shiver
By Angelina
Shiver, tremble, I never No I never once felt so much It shakes me how you take me Deeper than I've ever been
~Shiver by Jamie O'Neal~
A split second before the glass exploded around him, Wayne had caught the eye of Goon Two, who thought to shoot first, then possibly ask questions later. But simultaneous with the bodyguard's discovery of his presence on the balcony, the Ranger knew that he had been spotted and fired the borrowed .45 at the thug's rather large head. Wayne ducked and rolled to avoid the other man's bullet and the flying shards that were certain to follow. A neat red hole formed in the center of the bodyguard's forehead. Goon Two's expression was one of surprise, as if he couldn't have possibly contemplated the most likely outcome of a life dedicated to crime.
As the remaining protection for Davidov fell stunned and lifeless to the floor, the diminutive arms dealer swung around stunned from his position hovering over Courtney's prone body. She shook her head, trying desperately to get her tousled hair from her eyes, but knowing instinctively that Wayne had arrived in typical Beach Head fashion. Davidov scurried off her as he dropped down on the other side of the mattress. Wayne fired another shot as the Russian dropped out of sight, barely missing him by millimeters. Instead, the projectile buried itself harmlessly in the opposing wall.
To her credit considering the flying lead around her, Courtney found herself in an eerily calm state of mind. She knew that Wayne wouldn't hit her; he was too good of a marksman for that. Davidov, on the other hand, was a different story. But she also had confidence in the sergeant's ability to render the enemy powerless, and after the way the man had treated her, she didn't feel one bit of regret for his death, if it came to that.
Firing once again to keep Davidov pinned down, Wayne dove for the corner nearest to him inside the door. Fortunately, there was a convenient buffer in the form of the heavy cherry nightstand poised next to the bed. He curled up behind it as the other man's automatic pistol fire twice, both shots ricocheting off the wooden furniture.
As Wayne leaned around the edge of the nightstand to determine Davidov's current position, the Russian took a shot, barely missing the Ranger's head, but effectively taking out a chunk of flesh from his upper arm. Explicatives spewed from his mouth as fire exploded through his arm. It wasn't a bad wound, mostly a bad scratch, but damn if it didn't hurt like hell. Dimly he heard Courtney call out his name in anguish, then shout a warning. The exact words of the admonition didn't fully register in his adrenaline-charged brain, but he got the gist of it. Davidov was moving once again, towards the door - the only escape route viable to him now. All he had to do was wait for the other man to make a move.
Apparently infuriated that Courtney had given away his plan of action, Davidov risked the chance of at least killing the bitch for getting him into the situation in the first place, even if he couldn't down the mysterious gunman who had thoroughly ruined his fun this evening, not to mention killed at least one of his best henchmen. He figured Igor had to be dead as well, or he would have already come running to his boss's aid. He raised up to shoot the girl in the head, when a blinding white light flashed before his eyes and he suddenly dropped to a kneeling position. So this was what it was like to be shot, he thought muzzily to himself before losing consciousness and copious amounts of blood.
But not before he was able to fire a final shot.
"No!" shouted Wayne as if his words and the welling emotion behind them could somehow render the bullet perfectly harmless.
Courtney screamed and tried to present as small a target as possible once she realized what Davidov had in mind. But the restraints prevented her from doing much to protect herself. Wayne hadn't been able to react quickly enough to provide any sort of protection for her, before Davidov fired his final shot. Once he saw Davidov drop to his knees, then lay motionless on the floor next to the stiffening corpse of his bodyguard, Wayne jumped up from his position and ran frantically to the bed. Fear for her flooded his body, making him forget about his wounds completely.
He gazed down at her face, pale and streaked with plaster dust from the earlier gunshots. He couldn't bring to look lower, so captivated at the exquisite beauty of her expression. Her eyes were closed as if sleeping. Guilt and a loss so devastating consumed him as he sat gingerly on the bed next to her inert body. Chunks of the splintered headboard littered the pillows about her head. A slow trickle of blood oozed from somewhere under her hairline, turning the soft strawberry blond a darker matted crimson.
With a trembling hand, he reached up and smoothed the sticky strands away from her face, revealing the blue-black bruising that had just begun to form as a result of her mistreatment. Very few times in his life had he ever been moved to tears, but for some reason he couldn't even explain to himself right at the moment, he felt like weeping from the soles of his feet. One lone tear fell from his eyes, landing to slide slowly down her cheek. Soon another followed, then another. What he wouldn't give for her to wake up right now and argue with him, insult him, anything. He would happily take any sort of Courtney patented smart-ass comment with relish, just to have her back with him again.
"You know, you don't have to spray me with water to wake me up." The soft feminine voice wavered, but was perfectly audible.
His head snapped up, his glittering chocolate eyes opened wide with astonishment. Her eyes had never looked so green or beautiful to him. He could even see a bit of the deviously strange sense of humor that only Cover Girl was known for around headquarters lurking in their depths. She laughed lightly to herself as she commented, "Man, Beach Head, you should see your face. You look like you've seen a ghost."
He swallowed hard, gaining control of his warring emotions. "I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you." Where had kissing her come in?
"Well, the least you could do is get me out of these handcuffs." She wiggled her numb fingers and toes to force the blood to circulate through them. They tingled, like the rest of her body. She didn't know if it was from the horrendous headache she had as a result of the bullet that shattered the headboard, the broken bone in her hand, or just Wayne's sheer proximity.
She definitely had to distract him away from her so she could gather her own thoughts. To think his tears were what had jarred her back to consciousness. She wasn't at certain how to feel about the fierce emotion she'd read in his expression, but it was nice to know he did care about her on some level.
"Stay here," he said as he rose from the bed in search of something to cut through the plastic bonds.
"Good idea, genius. Like I'm really going to go anywhere," Courtney snapped back towards his retreating backside. And was a magnificent view it was. He shot her a tolerant half-smile that said, 'I'm going to let you get away with that simply because of what you've gone through.'
The only thing that Wayne could think of that could cut through the heavy gauge plastic was his knife, which currently resided in the neck of Goon One. He padded into the bedroom on bare feet, tugged the knife out of the corpse and made his way back to the bedroom. As he walked around the bed, the Army Ranger did do the manly thing that the inner caveman would have expected of him. He knew that she was at least walking wounded, but pretty much the same old Cover Girl. However, the mostly exposed view she unintentionally provided was more than enough to make his whole body tense with pure, unadulterated lust. Bondage, especially in relation to Courtney Krieger, was a definitely intriguing prospect.
"Anytime now, Beach." He'd been caught ogling her. Usually that would have made the withdrawn, rule-abiding sergeant uncomfortable, but strangely enough, Wayne wanted her to know he was interested. Something about tonight had changed his outlook on their relationship.the parameters were definitely about to change.
"Oh, I don't know," he murmured, the smooth dark notes tinting his customary southern drawl. "I think I kinda like it. At least, I know you won't get in any more trouble this way."
"Well, we both will if you don't get me out of these and we get outta here. Remember nobody's supposed to know about this. We're goin' to have a lot of 'splaining to do if management sees three dead bodies, especially in their penthouse. Now put your hormones back in your pants like a good boy and let me loose." She glared at him for good measure, although she actually felt quite flattered by his blatant perusal of her body. Maybe it was because he was the last person she would have ever guessed would make a move on her, or perhaps he was the only person she wanted to.
He freed her ankles first, but not before grazing the side of his hand down the sole of the nearest foot. Shivers of delight flowed through her at the simple contact; her foot and toes flexed involuntarily in response. Courtney was able to draw her knees up and to the side, allowing her to take some of the pressure off her back that was created by her confinement. Wayne, tempted by the prospect of sliding his wayward hands up the smooth silk of her stocking-clad legs, moved to the head of the bed.
The restraints binding her hands were actually lashed to the metal of the bed frame, so it took him some time and maneuvering to reach them. "Keep still. I don't want to cut your hands." After sawing for a couple of minutes, he was finally able to cut clean through the plastic. As he was working to free her, Wayne caught her staring at him, but her expression was enigmatic at best. Of course, he never claimed to ever be able to read a woman's mind.
"What?" he asked.
"Thanks, Wayne." Her voice was soft and sultry. He knew that the statement of gratitude covered a myriad of things, including him risking his life to save her.
"You're loose." Courtney knew his brusque answer was more like 'You're welcome'. She brought her tired and sore arms over her head, wincing from the muscles which had fallen asleep and the movement that caused her head to pound once again. She inwardly berated herself for being so weak initially that he had to slide his uninjured arm beneath her and help her into a sitting position.
"Do you think you can stand?" Wayne kept his arm around her, long after he probably should have pulled away. He rather liked the warm feeling of her body tucked in next to his. "We might draw attention to ourselves if I have to carry you." Not that he wouldn't do it for her.
She placed her feet on the floor, looking down at the plush carpet she saw he had no shoes on. "What in the hell happened to your shoes?"
"Had to take 'em off to cross the ledge to the balcony."
"Oh," she quipped, "I thought maybe you were regressing to your backwoods Alabama days." Courtney gave him a brilliant smile as she pushed herself, bones and muscles protesting, off the bed.
Wayne glared at her as he stood up to steady her. "I can see you're back to normal." He twitched when she sucked in a deep breath of shock. "What is it?"
"You're bleeding." Courtney pointed at the rip in his shirt, the deep gash's flow of blood had slowed to a trickle.
"It's nothing. I've had worse." He didn't want her to worry about him. She had enough on her own plate, and his injuries didn't count for much. "Anyway we can nurse each other's wounds in my hotel room." He flinched when he realized how that sounded. "You've got a pretty good gash on your head. And your ankles and wrists need to be treated."
"Not to mention my hand." She held it up, like a dog with a wounded paw, for his inspection. He noticed the swelling and looked at her questioningly.
"I think I broke something in it when I punched him."
"Did you do any damage?"
"I knocked him off his feet. That's what got me tied down."
"So I can't say you hit like a girl?"
"Shut up, Sneeden."
"That's sergeant to you."
Hah, she thought to herself as she gathered what energy she had left in order to produce a departure from the room that would show him what she was made of. Unfortunately for her, it must had demonstrated she was made of jelly because her legs certainly acted like it. Just as she was sliding to the floor, his strong arms wrapped about her torso and hauled her to her feet once more. He gazed down at her, concern in his eyes.
Courtney allowed her eyes to drift up to stare into his. She balanced her hands on his upper arms, being careful not put any pressure on his wound. Leaning into him, she tilted her face up and closed the short distance to place her mouth on his. She could feel his arms tighten around her in response, his mouth soften slowly beneath her lips' caress.
A soft groan slipped from Wayne as he held her lush body to his own and gave into the passion that threatened to overwhelm him. The tip of his tongue danced across the seam of her mouth, tentatively urging her lips open to receive him. He had never felt so unsure of himself, his usual confidence did not extend to his relationships with women. He didn't want to rush her, but the feelings that coursed through his body pushed him towards the brink of something he wasn't certain he could control. Losing control was an anathema to him.
He heard a tiny mewling sound emanate from her as she allowed him access to the interior of her mouth. The dizziness she felt stemmed more from the desire welling up inside her than from any injuries she had sustained. He tasted sweet, of sinful chocolate laced with a delicious bourbon undertone. Somehow she thought he would have been more dominating, less tender, but she was constantly amazed by the other side of Wayne Sneeden she hadn't seen until now.
Reluctantly she pulled away from him, noting with some satisfaction the confusion and frustration in his eyes. Good thing the feeling was mutual. "We need to go."
Reality sunk in as he blinked at their surroundings for a split second. He swept her off her feet and into his arms. Courtney's heart leaped within her chest at the quintessentially romantic gesture. "But what if we're caught?," she laughed giddily, feeling herself settle more securely in his arms. God, he was deliciously warm.
The one thing she thought she would never hear come from Sgt. Wayne Sneeden's lips.
"Who gives a damn!"
To be continued.
Shiver
By Angelina
Shiver, tremble, I never No I never once felt so much It shakes me how you take me Deeper than I've ever been
~Shiver by Jamie O'Neal~
A split second before the glass exploded around him, Wayne had caught the eye of Goon Two, who thought to shoot first, then possibly ask questions later. But simultaneous with the bodyguard's discovery of his presence on the balcony, the Ranger knew that he had been spotted and fired the borrowed .45 at the thug's rather large head. Wayne ducked and rolled to avoid the other man's bullet and the flying shards that were certain to follow. A neat red hole formed in the center of the bodyguard's forehead. Goon Two's expression was one of surprise, as if he couldn't have possibly contemplated the most likely outcome of a life dedicated to crime.
As the remaining protection for Davidov fell stunned and lifeless to the floor, the diminutive arms dealer swung around stunned from his position hovering over Courtney's prone body. She shook her head, trying desperately to get her tousled hair from her eyes, but knowing instinctively that Wayne had arrived in typical Beach Head fashion. Davidov scurried off her as he dropped down on the other side of the mattress. Wayne fired another shot as the Russian dropped out of sight, barely missing him by millimeters. Instead, the projectile buried itself harmlessly in the opposing wall.
To her credit considering the flying lead around her, Courtney found herself in an eerily calm state of mind. She knew that Wayne wouldn't hit her; he was too good of a marksman for that. Davidov, on the other hand, was a different story. But she also had confidence in the sergeant's ability to render the enemy powerless, and after the way the man had treated her, she didn't feel one bit of regret for his death, if it came to that.
Firing once again to keep Davidov pinned down, Wayne dove for the corner nearest to him inside the door. Fortunately, there was a convenient buffer in the form of the heavy cherry nightstand poised next to the bed. He curled up behind it as the other man's automatic pistol fire twice, both shots ricocheting off the wooden furniture.
As Wayne leaned around the edge of the nightstand to determine Davidov's current position, the Russian took a shot, barely missing the Ranger's head, but effectively taking out a chunk of flesh from his upper arm. Explicatives spewed from his mouth as fire exploded through his arm. It wasn't a bad wound, mostly a bad scratch, but damn if it didn't hurt like hell. Dimly he heard Courtney call out his name in anguish, then shout a warning. The exact words of the admonition didn't fully register in his adrenaline-charged brain, but he got the gist of it. Davidov was moving once again, towards the door - the only escape route viable to him now. All he had to do was wait for the other man to make a move.
Apparently infuriated that Courtney had given away his plan of action, Davidov risked the chance of at least killing the bitch for getting him into the situation in the first place, even if he couldn't down the mysterious gunman who had thoroughly ruined his fun this evening, not to mention killed at least one of his best henchmen. He figured Igor had to be dead as well, or he would have already come running to his boss's aid. He raised up to shoot the girl in the head, when a blinding white light flashed before his eyes and he suddenly dropped to a kneeling position. So this was what it was like to be shot, he thought muzzily to himself before losing consciousness and copious amounts of blood.
But not before he was able to fire a final shot.
"No!" shouted Wayne as if his words and the welling emotion behind them could somehow render the bullet perfectly harmless.
Courtney screamed and tried to present as small a target as possible once she realized what Davidov had in mind. But the restraints prevented her from doing much to protect herself. Wayne hadn't been able to react quickly enough to provide any sort of protection for her, before Davidov fired his final shot. Once he saw Davidov drop to his knees, then lay motionless on the floor next to the stiffening corpse of his bodyguard, Wayne jumped up from his position and ran frantically to the bed. Fear for her flooded his body, making him forget about his wounds completely.
He gazed down at her face, pale and streaked with plaster dust from the earlier gunshots. He couldn't bring to look lower, so captivated at the exquisite beauty of her expression. Her eyes were closed as if sleeping. Guilt and a loss so devastating consumed him as he sat gingerly on the bed next to her inert body. Chunks of the splintered headboard littered the pillows about her head. A slow trickle of blood oozed from somewhere under her hairline, turning the soft strawberry blond a darker matted crimson.
With a trembling hand, he reached up and smoothed the sticky strands away from her face, revealing the blue-black bruising that had just begun to form as a result of her mistreatment. Very few times in his life had he ever been moved to tears, but for some reason he couldn't even explain to himself right at the moment, he felt like weeping from the soles of his feet. One lone tear fell from his eyes, landing to slide slowly down her cheek. Soon another followed, then another. What he wouldn't give for her to wake up right now and argue with him, insult him, anything. He would happily take any sort of Courtney patented smart-ass comment with relish, just to have her back with him again.
"You know, you don't have to spray me with water to wake me up." The soft feminine voice wavered, but was perfectly audible.
His head snapped up, his glittering chocolate eyes opened wide with astonishment. Her eyes had never looked so green or beautiful to him. He could even see a bit of the deviously strange sense of humor that only Cover Girl was known for around headquarters lurking in their depths. She laughed lightly to herself as she commented, "Man, Beach Head, you should see your face. You look like you've seen a ghost."
He swallowed hard, gaining control of his warring emotions. "I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you." Where had kissing her come in?
"Well, the least you could do is get me out of these handcuffs." She wiggled her numb fingers and toes to force the blood to circulate through them. They tingled, like the rest of her body. She didn't know if it was from the horrendous headache she had as a result of the bullet that shattered the headboard, the broken bone in her hand, or just Wayne's sheer proximity.
She definitely had to distract him away from her so she could gather her own thoughts. To think his tears were what had jarred her back to consciousness. She wasn't at certain how to feel about the fierce emotion she'd read in his expression, but it was nice to know he did care about her on some level.
"Stay here," he said as he rose from the bed in search of something to cut through the plastic bonds.
"Good idea, genius. Like I'm really going to go anywhere," Courtney snapped back towards his retreating backside. And was a magnificent view it was. He shot her a tolerant half-smile that said, 'I'm going to let you get away with that simply because of what you've gone through.'
The only thing that Wayne could think of that could cut through the heavy gauge plastic was his knife, which currently resided in the neck of Goon One. He padded into the bedroom on bare feet, tugged the knife out of the corpse and made his way back to the bedroom. As he walked around the bed, the Army Ranger did do the manly thing that the inner caveman would have expected of him. He knew that she was at least walking wounded, but pretty much the same old Cover Girl. However, the mostly exposed view she unintentionally provided was more than enough to make his whole body tense with pure, unadulterated lust. Bondage, especially in relation to Courtney Krieger, was a definitely intriguing prospect.
"Anytime now, Beach." He'd been caught ogling her. Usually that would have made the withdrawn, rule-abiding sergeant uncomfortable, but strangely enough, Wayne wanted her to know he was interested. Something about tonight had changed his outlook on their relationship.the parameters were definitely about to change.
"Oh, I don't know," he murmured, the smooth dark notes tinting his customary southern drawl. "I think I kinda like it. At least, I know you won't get in any more trouble this way."
"Well, we both will if you don't get me out of these and we get outta here. Remember nobody's supposed to know about this. We're goin' to have a lot of 'splaining to do if management sees three dead bodies, especially in their penthouse. Now put your hormones back in your pants like a good boy and let me loose." She glared at him for good measure, although she actually felt quite flattered by his blatant perusal of her body. Maybe it was because he was the last person she would have ever guessed would make a move on her, or perhaps he was the only person she wanted to.
He freed her ankles first, but not before grazing the side of his hand down the sole of the nearest foot. Shivers of delight flowed through her at the simple contact; her foot and toes flexed involuntarily in response. Courtney was able to draw her knees up and to the side, allowing her to take some of the pressure off her back that was created by her confinement. Wayne, tempted by the prospect of sliding his wayward hands up the smooth silk of her stocking-clad legs, moved to the head of the bed.
The restraints binding her hands were actually lashed to the metal of the bed frame, so it took him some time and maneuvering to reach them. "Keep still. I don't want to cut your hands." After sawing for a couple of minutes, he was finally able to cut clean through the plastic. As he was working to free her, Wayne caught her staring at him, but her expression was enigmatic at best. Of course, he never claimed to ever be able to read a woman's mind.
"What?" he asked.
"Thanks, Wayne." Her voice was soft and sultry. He knew that the statement of gratitude covered a myriad of things, including him risking his life to save her.
"You're loose." Courtney knew his brusque answer was more like 'You're welcome'. She brought her tired and sore arms over her head, wincing from the muscles which had fallen asleep and the movement that caused her head to pound once again. She inwardly berated herself for being so weak initially that he had to slide his uninjured arm beneath her and help her into a sitting position.
"Do you think you can stand?" Wayne kept his arm around her, long after he probably should have pulled away. He rather liked the warm feeling of her body tucked in next to his. "We might draw attention to ourselves if I have to carry you." Not that he wouldn't do it for her.
She placed her feet on the floor, looking down at the plush carpet she saw he had no shoes on. "What in the hell happened to your shoes?"
"Had to take 'em off to cross the ledge to the balcony."
"Oh," she quipped, "I thought maybe you were regressing to your backwoods Alabama days." Courtney gave him a brilliant smile as she pushed herself, bones and muscles protesting, off the bed.
Wayne glared at her as he stood up to steady her. "I can see you're back to normal." He twitched when she sucked in a deep breath of shock. "What is it?"
"You're bleeding." Courtney pointed at the rip in his shirt, the deep gash's flow of blood had slowed to a trickle.
"It's nothing. I've had worse." He didn't want her to worry about him. She had enough on her own plate, and his injuries didn't count for much. "Anyway we can nurse each other's wounds in my hotel room." He flinched when he realized how that sounded. "You've got a pretty good gash on your head. And your ankles and wrists need to be treated."
"Not to mention my hand." She held it up, like a dog with a wounded paw, for his inspection. He noticed the swelling and looked at her questioningly.
"I think I broke something in it when I punched him."
"Did you do any damage?"
"I knocked him off his feet. That's what got me tied down."
"So I can't say you hit like a girl?"
"Shut up, Sneeden."
"That's sergeant to you."
Hah, she thought to herself as she gathered what energy she had left in order to produce a departure from the room that would show him what she was made of. Unfortunately for her, it must had demonstrated she was made of jelly because her legs certainly acted like it. Just as she was sliding to the floor, his strong arms wrapped about her torso and hauled her to her feet once more. He gazed down at her, concern in his eyes.
Courtney allowed her eyes to drift up to stare into his. She balanced her hands on his upper arms, being careful not put any pressure on his wound. Leaning into him, she tilted her face up and closed the short distance to place her mouth on his. She could feel his arms tighten around her in response, his mouth soften slowly beneath her lips' caress.
A soft groan slipped from Wayne as he held her lush body to his own and gave into the passion that threatened to overwhelm him. The tip of his tongue danced across the seam of her mouth, tentatively urging her lips open to receive him. He had never felt so unsure of himself, his usual confidence did not extend to his relationships with women. He didn't want to rush her, but the feelings that coursed through his body pushed him towards the brink of something he wasn't certain he could control. Losing control was an anathema to him.
He heard a tiny mewling sound emanate from her as she allowed him access to the interior of her mouth. The dizziness she felt stemmed more from the desire welling up inside her than from any injuries she had sustained. He tasted sweet, of sinful chocolate laced with a delicious bourbon undertone. Somehow she thought he would have been more dominating, less tender, but she was constantly amazed by the other side of Wayne Sneeden she hadn't seen until now.
Reluctantly she pulled away from him, noting with some satisfaction the confusion and frustration in his eyes. Good thing the feeling was mutual. "We need to go."
Reality sunk in as he blinked at their surroundings for a split second. He swept her off her feet and into his arms. Courtney's heart leaped within her chest at the quintessentially romantic gesture. "But what if we're caught?," she laughed giddily, feeling herself settle more securely in his arms. God, he was deliciously warm.
The one thing she thought she would never hear come from Sgt. Wayne Sneeden's lips.
"Who gives a damn!"
To be continued.