WARRIOR MINEOne determined to avoid it. One determined to conquer it. Both on a wayward mission and unable to deny it.
Khani Slaughter has dealt with danger since the day of her conception. After thirty-one years dealing with the bullshit, she knows how to attack it, defeat it, and avoid it. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, she still gravitates toward it. When you’re the head—and sometimes-deadly hands—of the Base Branch, the special operations force for the United Nations, hazard is everywhere. Her personal life, though, is restricted territory for trouble. No strings flings. That’s what she went for. Uncomplicated rolls in the sack. That was all she allowed. Or it was… until the rookie showed up. Base Branch operative King Street takes danger and molds it to his benefit. Only there’s not much advantage in screwing the boss when regret sends her across an ocean. The desire to make her see him for more than a mistake places his wide frame directly in her path. He is cocky and way too brash. Not at all what she wants. But when her brother goes missing, he is who she needs. Someone willing to navigate a wasteland and dodge bullets and her prickly demeanor to help rescue her only family. And, just maybe, in the process they can save each other from their painful pasts. Buy Danger Mine today to see what happens when a badass takes on a king! |
ISBN ebook: 978-1-941899-13-7
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-14-4
Released: July 2015
Length: 272 pages
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-14-4
Released: July 2015
Length: 272 pages
Excerpt
“Thanks for making the trip on such short notice.” The commander of the Base Branch’s eastern US headquarters stuck his hand out and squeezed Street’s in a firm shake.
“Happy to help.” He stepped into the office and sized-up the ace in a fraction of a second. Rough working man’s hands. Stout frame. Intelligent eyes. Crooked nose of a fighter. In short, Vail Tucker was the warrior he’d heard tales about over the last two years of his Branch training.
Street closed the door behind him.
“You come highly recommended.” Tucker stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. An unexpected grin curved the side of his mouth. “I’ve never spoken to the Queen before, but she was adamant you were the man for the job.”
“I can’t believe she would break the silence to recommend me. It goes to show how much she trusts and values the Branch’s work.”
“No shit,” Tucker laughed. “Now I know why your file was sealed.”
“Her majesty’s confidence is of the upmost importance.” Street straightened to his full height to drive home his message. “If word ever leaked that she was behind the investigation, and subsequent public revelation, of decades of covered-up abuse that brought the Catholic church to its knees, it would rip England in two.”
Tucker held his gaze. “She’s a shrewd woman, recognizing your unique position, intelligence, and abilities, and then putting them to use.”
Street harrumphed, the noise rattling his whole chest. “I guess it only makes me half a traitor.”
“Not at all. It’s all about the greater good.”
Bitterness fringed his laugh. “While investigating, while serving my queen, I broke the trust of the only person on this pile of dirt that ever gave a shit about me. I dragged his demons into the light.” Street scrubbed an itch on his forehead, and then drilled Tucker with his gaze. “Would you kill Carmen to protect innocents for things that are only possibilities and odds?”
The man’s jaw flexed. His hands chaffed together. The dry friction released the tension in his face. “No. Which goes to show you’re a better man than I am.”
“That’s an opinion not shared by many. Not even me.”
“Then you’re too hard on yourself.”
“If I’m not, who will be?”
Tucker stepped around to the back of his desk and kicked back in his cushy leather seat. “Well, I know someone who will.” He swiveled toward the phone, hit a few button, and the line trilled a half-ring.
“What?” came the gruff voice of his dreams.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Tucker said.
“I’m only on my second cup of coffee. The sun isn’t up yet. I got shit for sleep last night. I have a hell-a-lot of stuff to get done this morning, and you’re interrupting progress,” Khani snapped.
“Give me ten minutes in my office. I’ll lighten your load,” Tucker enticed.
“It’s your funeral,” she sighed.
“You saved me. You can’t kill me. Besides, I have fresh coffee—”
“I’m on my way.” The line went dead.
“Have a seat,” Tucker offered.
Street sank into the chair across from Tucker and farthest from the doorway. When Khani came into the office he didn’t want to be in the direct line of fire. He rested his elbow on the armrest and scoured his hand over his chin. It wasn’t the time to smile, but damn. He hadn’t had as much fun as he’d had in the last twelve hours since he’d been shot.
That sounded fucked up even in his own mind.
Memories of that day enveloped his brain in a fog of mystique and ecstasy. Khani’s fingers glided over the stitches he’d sewn into his own skin. His arm throbbed, remembering the sting of her touch. Other things throbbed too.
His forearms tingled from where she’d bound him to the back frame of the wooden chair with medical tape. His cock lengthened, remembering her eager mouth working him deep, reliving the way she stripped off her bottoms and straddled him otherwise fully clothed.
“So,” Tucker yanked him back to the present, “you worked under Khani in London. I don’t have to tell you she’ll be pissed at both of us for dropping this on her with no warning.”
“Nope, but I’ve dealt with her wrath before. I quite enjoy the challenge.”
“In a few days, remember you said that.” Tucker stood at the rapid click of a woman’s shoes.
Street stood and braced for the bomb that was Khani Slaughter and the havoc she wreaked on his body and soul.
The door sailed open. “Where’s the coff—” She stopped so quickly her onyx hair grazing the tops of her shoulder swooshed forward, momentarily covering her red mouth. Her smokey gaze bore a hole in his, leapt to Tucker’s, and then back to him. Those long, lean, capable fingers whitened around her silver coffee thermos.
His pride evaporated. If Tucker wasn’t in the room he might just fall to his knees and beg to get those hands on him again.
She stepped into the room and hummed the door closed. Boy was she pissed.
It had taken hours for her to let him kiss her that day. Once she started she hadn’t stopped until she cut his bonds and rushed out the door. The experience taught him persistence paid off where Khani was concerned.
“It’s good to see you again, LTC.”
“Happy to help.” He stepped into the office and sized-up the ace in a fraction of a second. Rough working man’s hands. Stout frame. Intelligent eyes. Crooked nose of a fighter. In short, Vail Tucker was the warrior he’d heard tales about over the last two years of his Branch training.
Street closed the door behind him.
“You come highly recommended.” Tucker stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. An unexpected grin curved the side of his mouth. “I’ve never spoken to the Queen before, but she was adamant you were the man for the job.”
“I can’t believe she would break the silence to recommend me. It goes to show how much she trusts and values the Branch’s work.”
“No shit,” Tucker laughed. “Now I know why your file was sealed.”
“Her majesty’s confidence is of the upmost importance.” Street straightened to his full height to drive home his message. “If word ever leaked that she was behind the investigation, and subsequent public revelation, of decades of covered-up abuse that brought the Catholic church to its knees, it would rip England in two.”
Tucker held his gaze. “She’s a shrewd woman, recognizing your unique position, intelligence, and abilities, and then putting them to use.”
Street harrumphed, the noise rattling his whole chest. “I guess it only makes me half a traitor.”
“Not at all. It’s all about the greater good.”
Bitterness fringed his laugh. “While investigating, while serving my queen, I broke the trust of the only person on this pile of dirt that ever gave a shit about me. I dragged his demons into the light.” Street scrubbed an itch on his forehead, and then drilled Tucker with his gaze. “Would you kill Carmen to protect innocents for things that are only possibilities and odds?”
The man’s jaw flexed. His hands chaffed together. The dry friction released the tension in his face. “No. Which goes to show you’re a better man than I am.”
“That’s an opinion not shared by many. Not even me.”
“Then you’re too hard on yourself.”
“If I’m not, who will be?”
Tucker stepped around to the back of his desk and kicked back in his cushy leather seat. “Well, I know someone who will.” He swiveled toward the phone, hit a few button, and the line trilled a half-ring.
“What?” came the gruff voice of his dreams.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Tucker said.
“I’m only on my second cup of coffee. The sun isn’t up yet. I got shit for sleep last night. I have a hell-a-lot of stuff to get done this morning, and you’re interrupting progress,” Khani snapped.
“Give me ten minutes in my office. I’ll lighten your load,” Tucker enticed.
“It’s your funeral,” she sighed.
“You saved me. You can’t kill me. Besides, I have fresh coffee—”
“I’m on my way.” The line went dead.
“Have a seat,” Tucker offered.
Street sank into the chair across from Tucker and farthest from the doorway. When Khani came into the office he didn’t want to be in the direct line of fire. He rested his elbow on the armrest and scoured his hand over his chin. It wasn’t the time to smile, but damn. He hadn’t had as much fun as he’d had in the last twelve hours since he’d been shot.
That sounded fucked up even in his own mind.
Memories of that day enveloped his brain in a fog of mystique and ecstasy. Khani’s fingers glided over the stitches he’d sewn into his own skin. His arm throbbed, remembering the sting of her touch. Other things throbbed too.
His forearms tingled from where she’d bound him to the back frame of the wooden chair with medical tape. His cock lengthened, remembering her eager mouth working him deep, reliving the way she stripped off her bottoms and straddled him otherwise fully clothed.
“So,” Tucker yanked him back to the present, “you worked under Khani in London. I don’t have to tell you she’ll be pissed at both of us for dropping this on her with no warning.”
“Nope, but I’ve dealt with her wrath before. I quite enjoy the challenge.”
“In a few days, remember you said that.” Tucker stood at the rapid click of a woman’s shoes.
Street stood and braced for the bomb that was Khani Slaughter and the havoc she wreaked on his body and soul.
The door sailed open. “Where’s the coff—” She stopped so quickly her onyx hair grazing the tops of her shoulder swooshed forward, momentarily covering her red mouth. Her smokey gaze bore a hole in his, leapt to Tucker’s, and then back to him. Those long, lean, capable fingers whitened around her silver coffee thermos.
His pride evaporated. If Tucker wasn’t in the room he might just fall to his knees and beg to get those hands on him again.
She stepped into the room and hummed the door closed. Boy was she pissed.
It had taken hours for her to let him kiss her that day. Once she started she hadn’t stopped until she cut his bonds and rushed out the door. The experience taught him persistence paid off where Khani was concerned.
“It’s good to see you again, LTC.”