Own (Command Force Alpha #1) (36 page)

Evan let her fasten the watch around his wrist. Only then did he notice the strange link just above the watch face. It was rectangular like the rest, but with a circular setting at the center that allowed an onyx bead to spin freely. He rolled the bead with his thumb, so cool and soothingly smooth beneath his touch.

“You snuck a worry bead in a field watch,” he said, smiling.

“I use mine all the time, but I know you’d never be able to carry something like that on a mission. And a watch is the only jewelry you can wear. So yeah. I snuck it in.” She added her heat to the little bead by rolling it with her forefinger. “I know you have things to tell me sometimes, things you
can’t
tell me. I can see it in your eyes. That must happen out there sometimes, when you don’t know who to trust. So… Now you can whisper to me in the dark too.”

“I already do,” he said thickly. “You should see the hem of my coat. I’ve frayed the edges. This is much better.”

Her face was expectant. “Do you like it? Did I get it right?”

Evan didn’t know what to say. He should’ve said a hundred words, about her thoughtfulness and dedication to keeping him sane in an insane world. On that score, he did his best by her, and she was doing her best by him. They were dovetailed completely.

This… This was what it was to be safe.

He pulled her into his arms so that their naked limbs entwined beneath the lightweight covers. “It’s perfect, Katsu-kun. My gorgeous girl. Thank you. And thank you for being the woman I get to come home to.”

“There better not be another option on that score,” she said, kissing him again, teasing him, touching him everywhere. “I love you too much to share you with anything other than an international super spy team. And that’s
plenty
of sharing.”

“I love you too, and I will for the rest of my life.” He kissed her with the passion that was building again, beyond his ability to repress. “You’re mine.
Mine.
”

“Prove it.”

“That’s quite the demand, shark.”

She beamed. “It’s the one you like best, Sir.”

Evan sat up and grabbed her ankle, quickly fastening it to the foot of the bed. Then he pulled her into his arms once again, with his nose nestled in the sweet perfume of her hair. “Proving you’re mine? Yes, Katsu. That’s the one demand I’ll always oblige.”

About the Author

Katie Porter is the writing team of Carrie Lofty and Lorelie Brown, who’ve been friends and critique partners for seven years. Both are multi-published in historical and paranormal romance. Carrie has an MA in history, while Lorelie is a US Army veteran. Generally a high-strung masochist, Carrie loves weight training and has no fear of gross things like dissecting formaldehyde sharks. Her two girls are not appreciative. Lorelie, a laid-back sadist, would rather grin maniacally when Carrie works out. Her three boys love how she screams like a little girl around spiders.

To learn more about the authors who make up Katie, visit
www.katieporterbooks.com
or
www.Facebook.com/MsKatiePorter
, or follow them on Twitter at
@MsKatiePorter
,
@carrielofty
and
@LorelieBrown
.

Look for these titles by Katie Porter

Now Available:

Came Upon a Midnight Clear

Vegas Top Guns

Double Down

Inside Bet

Hold ’Em

Hard Way

Bare Knuckle

Club Devant

Lead and Follow

Chains and Canes

Coming Soon:

Club Devant

Watch and Wait

Command Force Alpha

Snap

Bind

Desire as reckless as a fighter jet in freefall…and just as dangerous.

Double Down

© 2012 Katie Porter

Vegas Top Guns, Book 1

As part of the 64th Aggressor Squadron, Major Ryan “Fang” Haverty flies like the enemy to teach Allied pilots how not to die. The glittering excess of the Strip can’t compare to the glowing jet engines of his F-16. But a sexy, redheaded waitress in seamed stockings? Now
she
gets his blood pumping.

Cassandra Whitman’s good-girl ways haven’t earned any slack from her manager ex-boyfriend, or prevented a bad case of frazzle from holding down two and a half jobs. She sure wouldn’t mind letting the handsome Southern charmer shake up her routine.

Their wild weekend lives up to Sin City’s reputation. Especially when they discover a matched passion for roleplaying. For Cass, it’s an exciting departure from her normal, shy persona. But for Ryan, it triggers memories of a time when his fetish drove away the woman he loved—leaving him reluctant to risk a repeat performance.

Except Cass refuses to settle for ordinary ever again. She’s about to show the man with hair-trigger hands that she’s got a few surprise moves of her own.

Warning: This book contains dirty-hot roleplaying, featuring an all-alpha fighter pilot and an ambitious waitress with a fabulous imagination. Also: dressing-room sex, a plaid schoolgirl skirt, and a sprinkling of spankings.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Double Down:

She assessed her appearance in the bathroom’s full-length mirror. For the hundredth time. No change. She still looked like a naughty fantasy.

A French maid. She should’ve guessed.

Her grin took on a distinctly sexual edge, which she didn’t mind at all. The blush too felt right—a little self-conscious, a little anxious. Already the temperature in her blood upped toward scalding.

“You greedy slut,” she whispered to her reflection, the grin broadening. “One great time wasn’t enough.”

Her nerves stretched and stretched as she waited. She’d ordered room service and managed to take a quick shower. Her hair was still wet, but she’d bound it in a sleek bun at the base of her neck. A light application of the cosmetics she’d snagged during a two-minute run through a store in The Paris’s lobby had done wonders to hold back the look of fatigue.

Ryan’s knock, when it came, sped her heartbeat. If she played the French maid, she wondered what he would be. A bedraggled traveler who’d had the buttons yanked off his shirt? A down-on-his-luck gambler?

And just how far would she push this? Cass had spent the last hour trying to get inside his head. There was a huge gulf between a bit of dress-up and full roleplaying. She was almost surprised at how much she wanted it to be the latter. Something that tipped over, deep inside. Something had
unlocked
. She could be anything, say anything, do anything.

The worst he would do is laugh, maybe flash that pulse-pounding smile and tell her to drop the act. He might merely be a guy after something different to look at, but that didn’t feel right, not for Ryan. She had a guess as to what he liked, and she was willing to give it a shot.

His knock was more insistent the second time. Good. She didn’t like to think that he’d give up on her.

Cass took a deep breath and opened the door.

Ryan stood at the threshold wearing a fantastic dress uniform. The dark blue did marvelous things for his healthy tan, and the braided silver trim looked impressively realistic. Navy? No, that wasn’t right. Air Force, maybe?

More than the color and the authenticity of the costume, she loved how it was exactly tailored to his body—tall and lean, long and strong. Only a slack, bewildered expression gave away his response to her maid’s outfit. Otherwise he embodied everything impressive and sexy about a man in uniform.

“Oh!
Monsieur
Haverty,” she said in her best French accent. A year spent studying art in Paris would finally prove good for something. “I hadn’t expected you so soon.
Merci
, come in.”

He hesitated for only a second. Then the reality of what she’d done and said—how she sounded—seemed to click in his brain. “Thank you. I didn’t expect to be kept waiting.”

“My apologies,
monsieur
. I was only just finishing up.”

“I don’t appreciate sloppy service.”

She nibbled her bottom lip, daring to glance up from beneath lowered lashes. He surveyed the hotel room with the air of a man who expected perfection and found it lacking. A curious heat bloomed in her stomach, reveling in his command of the moment.

She’d been right. The man wanted to play.

“Your room-service order is waiting for you in the bedroom,” she said, pitching her voice toward conciliatory. “As you requested.”

“Oh?” He lifted his brows. “I’m curious if you managed to get that right, at least.”

She ushered him into the bedroom where a rolling silver-tone cart was topped with a plate of fresh fruit and a bottle of champagne on ice. She’d ordered the items no matter the sticker shock, figuring they’d sort out paying for it later. Tonight was about living a fantasy.

Ryan strolled to the cart. His expression verged on haughty as he surveyed the assortment. “Good enough.”

“I’m pleased,
Monsieur
Haverty.”

“It’s Major Haverty, actually.”

“Major?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“Cassandra,” she said, briefly shaking hands. That same electric zap they’d shared from the first moment reappeared, only stronger. She almost dropped character. Ryan’s teasing grin made a brief reappearance, as if he too was tempted to laugh.

Then it was gone. He was Major Haverty again.

“Where are you from, Cassandra?”

“Montparnasse, in Paris.”

Dear Lord, he was unbelievably handsome in that uniform. She wondered again where he’d picked it up. Had he returned to the sex shop? Or someplace else? He stood with his shoulders back, his posture firm and solid. The thought turned her on in funny, unpredictable ways. The roleplaying was easy to indulge when he fit the part so perfectly.

“What do you do in the military? Is it the Air Force?”

“That’s right,” he said. “I fly fighter jets. F-16s.”

Cass’s jaw dropped. He could do that all day, adding facts to his character that would’ve seriously jeopardized the absorbency of her panties—had she been wearing any.

No matter how fabulous Ryan looked, her hands were restless for wanting to see him stripped. Something about his expression, however, told her he’d be the one giving orders.

Yes, sir.

“Well, I should finish up my duties.” So breathless now, she heard her accent slipping.

She turned to leave the bedroom, but he called out, “Miss? Could you help me first?”

“My pleasure,
monsie
—I mean, Major.”

He seemed to stifle a private smile. “This coat.” He began undoing the buttons. “It’s too hot in here for it. I won’t be able to get comfortable.”

“I should think not.” She crossed the floor, her knees shaky. “Here, let me help.”

He dropped his arms to his sides as she undid the remaining buttons. Her breath was coming in fitful gulps, but she forced herself to concentrate.

Calm down.

By the looks of how they were playing this hand, they would take their time. She needed to get herself under control or she’d wind up begging for a quickie down on the carpet to cut the tension. What she loved about their game was what would rip her up inside. The waiting. The deliberate buildup.

She pressed her hands flat against his body, right above his ribs. Slowly, slowly, she smoothed them up the inside of his coat, making love to his chest with her palms and her fingertips. His shoulders were tense. Corded ropes of muscles bunched and relaxed beneath her touch. She eased the dress coat over his shoulders then down his brawny arms.

Through it all he held his tense stance, chin thrust out. She liked to think she had all of him at attention, but she didn’t dare go for his crotch. Not yet.

The coat dropped to the floor behind him. “Thank you,” he said curtly. “You can hang that up now.”

Cass hid her smile. She angled her backside in such a way that he would get the choicest view as she bent at the waist. She took her time, first retrieving the coat, then strolling to the closet where she found a hanger. Every action felt bathed in molasses, so achingly slow. In that hotel room, time had ceased.

A
pop
sound yanked her heart into her throat. She turned to find Ryan pouring champagne. The pale blue dress shirt did even better things for his tan than the dark coat. Muscles pulled and shifted with every movement. Her mouth watered at the prospect of seeing him fully nude. They’d shared so much so quickly, but damn did they have a long way to go.

“Come,” he said.

“So soon?”

His gaze jumped to hers. His expression told her she was naughty to risk ruining their charade. “Cut the impertinence, miss. Come here.”

She toyed with the lace edge of her skirt as she approached. His eyes jumped and danced, as if trying to take in everything.