I yanked up the hem of her dress, dragging my fingers to the edge of her panties, before circling quickly and pushing inside her beautiful pussy, making her cry out.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” I hissed.
She moaned in reply.
“I am so fucking hard right now,” I growled into her ear. “Here and now: yes or no, Caro?”
“Yes!” she grit out, her voice deep and husky.
I unbuttoned my fly, quickly rolling a condom over my erection, while Caro shimmied out of her panties.
“Bend over the desk,” I ordered, gripping her hips.
“Sebastian, the door!” she gasped.
“Fuck!”
I hadn’t set a cordon or secured the boundary—Marine safety 101, for fuck’s sake. I wedged a chair under the handle and spun back to the desk, hauling her dress over her ass and forcing her feet apart with mine.
We didn’t have long before the banquet started, and it would definitely look suspicious if we walked in together. I plunged into her, relieved, happy, fucking delirious to be inside her again when I thought it would be months. Here and now in this cursed city, this dying country, where the body count rose each day. My woman showing me that life could still be worth living.
My breath hissed out through my teeth and I forced myself to make it good for her, too. I pulled out slowly, then pushed back in, circling my hips, watching her knuckles whiten as she gripped the edge of the desk. I felt her tighten around me and I had to clench my teeth to keep from losing it too fast. But when she pushed her ass back to meet me, I couldn’t wait, ramming into her desperately. I could hear her body slamming against the desk, and even though I knew her hips would be bruised in the morning, I couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. I wanted to mark her—my woman. I was aroused and disgusted with myself at the same time. Fucking thoughts! And then I lost it, my spine snapping and sparks shooting up from my balls. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see them on fire.
Holy shit, that was the hottest in-uniform sex I’d ever had.
We collapsed onto the floor together and she twisted around, softly brushing the tips of her fingers over my face.
She was flushed and so fucking beautiful, her hair spilling wildly over her shoulders, unaware that her dress was still around her waist. And I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it—but I was getting hard again already.
“Fuck, that wasn’t enough, Caro. I want you again.”
“We can’t, Sebastian,” she panted. “As it is, we’ll be missed if we don’t hurry.”
I knew she was right but I didn’t have to like it. I brought her hand to my lips, sucking her fingers, one by one, insanely desperate to repeat the last few minutes.
“I need you, Caro. Let me come to your room tonight, please, baby.”
“You can’t, I’m sharing with Liz.”
Fuck! The fat British broad.
“Get rid of her!” I whispered, rubbing her arms gently, hoping to persuade her.
Suddenly someone rattled the door handle and I could hear voices outside.
“Fuck it!”
Playtime was over. I peeled off the condom and tucked my dick into my pants, cursing the asshole who’d interrupted us.
“My panties,” Caro hissed, looking around her distractedly.
I grinned at her, finding them hanging from a handle on the desk drawer.
“I think these are yours, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she muttered, pulling them on and straightening her skirt.
The door handle rattled again and I could hear two guys arguing about who had the key. At least my Pashto wasn’t as rusty as I’d thought it might be.
I helped her up, then opened the door cautiously, but the corridor was empty in both directions.
“You’re good.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not so bad yourself, chief.”
I grinned at her and winked. “Later?”
But then I heard more voices coming toward us. Caro smiled once and hurried away. I didn’t know if she’d agreed to meet me later or not, but I knew I’d be knocking at her door. I gave her a few seconds head start, then sauntered after her.
Her cheeks were still flushed, but there was nothing else that showed what we’d been doing. The image of her peachy ass bent over that desk was enough to make my dick remind me how fucking uncomfortable the Blues were. I had to think about something else.
Well, fate was a humorous bitch, because then I saw the one person I’d hoped never to see again—Caro’s ex-husband—and he was talking to her. What the fuck was that asshole doing here? Since when did landlocked Afghanistan need help from the US Navy? Yeah, so the douchebag was a medical doctor, but still … shouldn’t he be retired by now?
He hadn’t deserved to be married to Caro and when she’d been sent away, he wouldn’t give me her address; he wouldn’t even give me the fucking time of day. I hated that prick.
I couldn’t stand it any longer and marched over to get her away from him. He saw me, and immediately had the expression of someone who’s just stepped in dog shit. Guess the love-fest was mutual.
Military protocol demanded that I salute a senior officer, even one from another service, so I deliberately shoved my hands in my pockets, which was the alternative to punching the fucker.
He frowned, and I wondered if he was going to report me or try and insist that I salute him—I’d really like to see that. But then he turned back to Caro, ignoring me.
“Good to see you, Caroline. You look lovely tonight. I hope you enjoy the evening.”
He strolled away, greeting a few people as he moved through the room.
“What the fuck were you doing talking to that asshole?” I snapped.
Caro’s furious eyes raked across me.
“What are you doing making it so damned obvious that you care?” she shot back savagely.
What the fuck? She was angry with me?
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” I asked, aware that I sounded like a needy prick.
I’d noticed when I was balls deep in her. Now, I wanted every guy here to know that she was taken—especially her ex-husband.
“I am wearing it,” she said heatedly. “Just not where anyone can see it. But right now I am so furious with you: all you’ve done is make it absolutely necessary for me to go to my ex-husband and beg him not to tell anyone about us. Have you any idea how that makes me feel, Sebastian? Do you? Because he’s the last person I’d want to ask a favor from.”
No fucking way.
“I’ll handle him,” I said quickly. “I’ll…”
“You’ll do nothing,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Absolutely nothing, do you hear me? Now leave me alone: you’ve already attracted enough attention tonight.”
She walked away, leaving me furious and pissed off. I turned on my heel and headed to the bar. Fuck, they weren’t serving alcohol. I’d forgotten. I asked for a soda and stood sipping it, trying to calm the fuck down. I was supposed to be working.
Man up, Hunter, and act like a fucking professional, you clueless prick!
I looked around me casually, then noticed that the contingent of Afghan nationals had arrived, dressed in the traditional salwar kameez, worn with the oval qaraqul hats. The bodyguards stood at the doors, dark sunglasses covering their eyes. Amateurs—you didn’t wear fucking sunglasses indoors at night unless you wanted to look like a Hollywood extra who couldn’t find his dick with a flashlight.
But what really caught my attention was that there were tribal leaders from both sides of the political and religious spectrum, and they were talking to each other. I sidled closer, knowing they’d never guess I could understand them.
I recognized the older guy as Baktash Azimi who was a Sunni leader. The other guy I wasn’t sure, but I thought it might be Gunnar Chalabi, and he was definitely a Shiite.