Page 28 of Knot Guilty

Squinting my eyes at her, I say, “Good, then put your nothing in your pocket and let me sleep.”

My alarm wakes me in time to splash some cold water on my face and grab something to drink before walking with Chelsea and Bash to Colonel Heathman’s office.

Heathman and Morrison are joined by their two squad leaders, including Sergeant Avara. I avoid looking his way, instead focusing all my attention on the two senior officers in the group. “Intelligence has identified the location of another shipment of cash and guns. This site is close to the Afghani border. We have to intercept before these guys cross, so the Pentagon wants us to move on the location tonight. Our target is two hours west of here.”

The next hour is spent studying every bit of information we have on the new stash. Once everyone is clear on the plan of attack, Colonel Heathman dismisses the group. “We deploy at zero three hundred. Have your teams ready.”

While the distance to this target is significantly farther than the last, at least my team will be tied into the raid team’s communications. They’ll also be better prepared in case FinCEN takes seven hours to show up like last time.

Bash and Chelsea take an early dinner and crash to get as much sleep as possible before pulling out. I spend some time checking in with Knot and Birdie before heading out in search of dinner.

Maxen, Brock, and Zach walk in just after I’ve sat down and join me once they grab trays of food. I play around with my dinner, watching the door every few minutes.

Aaron eventually shows up, his gaze locking on me as soon as he walks in. I get up from the table at his signal and follow him outside. “I’ll be right back. Don’t spit in my food.”

“Yes, Bwana,” Brock teases.

For that, he gets the finger, and then I rush out the door to meet up with Aaron. I spot him pacing the hallway, and he turns abruptly when I step out of the noisy chow hall. “I’m sorry, Sadie. I should have never jumped on you like I did.”

I feign indifference with a shoulder shrug. “I get it. I’ve always told you everything, and now… I didn’t want to say anything because I was still trying to figure things out myself. Besides, you know how dysfunctional I am when it comes to relationships. I’m sure he’ll come to regret me and be gone in no time.”

“If he does, then he’s an idiot,” he says somberly.

Aaron shoves his way into the dining room, leaving me in the empty hallway with my mouth hanging open. That’s when I decide I’ve had enough of living in the twilight zone that is today and cut my losses. I’m crawling into bed ten minutes later.

It’s around zero-two-thirty, and Chelsea has just left our room to join the raid team. The ambient noise of activity soon fades, but then I hear a sound outside my door.

Given that I’m alone in a building full of unfamiliars, I unsheathe the knife that’s currently resting under my pillow. My door creaks open, and a sexy voice sighs my name.

The knife is shoved back into its sheath just as Maxen reaches my bed. I’m up on my knees in a second, fisting his shirt in my hands at the same time he grabs for me. Mouths collide, tongues dueling for dominance as his warm fingers reach under the hem of my Tennessee Titan’s t-shirt.

The fabric is lifted over my head and tossed to the floor, and my hands go straight to his bare chest, sliding down to his open fly. Shoving the fabric of his boxers out of my way, I grasp his erect cock in both hands.

Maxen groans and grasps my thighs, just behind my knees. He yanks forward, sending me sprawling to my back, then slides my panties down my legs. By the time the pain in my chest registers, he’s already between my legs, licking right up my slit. At that point, stitches and soreness are quickly forgotten.

Like lightning, pleasure crackles up my torso, bringing up an uncomfortable point. The walls are thin in these dorms, and I’m incapable of remaining quiet. So that I don’t broadcast our current endeavor to the entire building, I grab my pillow and cover my face.

Maxen is no longer worried about me giving us away and forces my legs open wider, sucking my clit into his mouth. While he flicks it with his tongue, he presses a hand against my lower stomach. What he does with that tongue of his is so good that I’m soon thrashing around, unable to withstand the delicious torture.

My climax surges through me unexpectedly fast, and I fight to get out from under Maxen’s mouth before I implode. He doesn’t let go, and he doesn’t let up, so I toss my pillow aside and grab the bars at the head of the bed. Ignoring the ache, I pull myself out of his grasp, but that doesn’t stop him for long.

As I struggle to catch my breath, Maxen sheds his pants and boxers. I take a moment to gawk at his body, shrouded in moonlight and lift to my knees before he can reach me.

I point to the mattress, and he shakes his head at me. “I don’t think so.”

“I seem to recall that you said if I wanted to top, that I’d have to do it at my place.” I gesture around me and add, “I’m pretty sure this is my room. Not yours.”

Flashing me with a playful grin, Maxen lies back, placing his hands behind his head. “Then, by all means, have your wicked way with me.”

I glance down at the monster between his legs, currently pointed to the ceiling. “Raincoat?”

One of his hands reaches out and drops a foil packet onto his stomach before rejoining the other behind his head. I make quick work of rolling on the rubber, and then I’m sinking onto Maxen’s cock.

The pace I set is frantic, bobbing up and down to bring us both to a satisfying end. The moonlight that highlighted Maxen’s physique is now spilling onto my chest, drawing Maxen’s eyes to my dancing tits and the bandaged stitches below.

His hands reach up to palm my breasts, but since I’m a bouncer and not a scooter, he can’t keep his grip on them. No worries. Maxen slides his hands down to my hips, holding them tightly and aiding with my movements. And I’m glad for it. I didn’t consider my pissed-off knee when thinking this thing through.

His strength, added to the mix, results in more speed and deeper penetration. On top of that, he’s begun to thrust upward from beneath me. This new ferocity is amazing until one of his hands creeps around my hip to slip a thumb into my folds. Instead of strumming me, he presses my clit against his dick. My rhythm suffers and then becomes all kinds of erratic when that same thumb adds a circular motion to the equation.

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