PRISONER MINECan the bad boy protect the good girl…
Zeke Slaughter played two sides against the middle and found himself in a world of hurt. Luckily, there was one person in the world who cared enough about his rogue ass to save it. But neither his sister nor the Base Branch, the UN special forces division she works for, can help him sort through the lies, money, violence, and corruption he’s gotten himself into. Himself…and others. Yep, he’d dragged his team into the mix. Pin another Medal of Honor to his chest for that rookie move. Oh wait, mercenaries don’t get badges of honor. Greer Britton joined the US Elite’s brand of private military to please her father, a third-generation Marine and Senate-seat legacy that failed to attain the brass of his blood before him. She doesn’t want to think he sabotaged her promising career in the Marines, but… When she ends up a high-priced sex slave for the Russian mob she’d been commissioned to infiltrate with her closed-off leader, Zeke Slaughter, she questions her dad's motive for having her placed on the team. It’s up to Zeke to save his team and complete his missions without getting killed--and without crossing the line with a pristine beauty who has no business in any military, much less surrounded by a horde of violent, horny bastards... himself included. Buy Prisoner Mine to find the truth behind the treachery! |
ISBN ebook: 978-1-941899-17-5
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-18-2
Released: January 2016
Length: 270 pages
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-18-2
Released: January 2016
Length: 270 pages
Excerpt
When Greer stretched, every fiber of her being got behind the event. The nerves that had throbbed yesterday sang in praise of freedom. Each muscle yawned with contentment. Her fingers reached. Her back arched. Her toes curled.
The haze of drugs, along with the need for more, faded into the background like a bad dream. As soon as her eyes opened though, all her unanswered questions stampeded with thundering hooves.
Zach Saulter lay three feet away. He dragged a lazy arm over his eyes, and then rubbed a hand over his mouth and sturdy chin.
Greer’s hand flew to her heart on a two-fold mission. One, make certain she still wore clothes. Two, keep the thudding under wraps.
“Calm down. I didn’t steal your virtue.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Sure you were.” He turned those stormy eyes on her. “But I’m the one who had to worry about having his virtue stolen.”
“Hilarious.” Greer turned onto her side toward him, tucked her legs to her chest, and adjusted the pillow under her head.
“What?” His lips pursed. “You think you couldn’t steal it because I don’t have it or because you don’t have it in you to do it?” He rolled onto his side and shrugged for emphasis. The move shifted the sheet. It fell off his bare shoulder. “Because those vicious limbs could fleece the kindness of a monk. I swear you kicked me in the kidney three times and the nuts once.”
She tried to follow the line of conversation, but the hump of his massive shoulders and the swell of the top of his pec made breathing difficult.
“You said the bed was mine.”
“I just wanted a two-foot strip.” He held his hands two feet apart indicating the distance, but he’d lost her completely.
Bubbled, peeling skin jarred her more than his beautiful physique, which was saying something because his muscles caused a tingle in muscles she didn’t know she had. The burn was an irregular shape just above his nipple. Her finger automatically lifted to her mouth to cover her shock.
His gaze lowered to the maybe week-old wound, turning to a scar. When he met her gaze again the drowsiness had vanished, along with the hint of playfulness he’d revealed. The wall rose into place, high and proud.
She couldn’t let it go.
“How many days?”
He’d been imprisoned by the Stas. It explained his disappearance and his injuries. But as frightening and infuriating as her captivity had been, his had been worse. Much worse. Her fingers ached to reach out to him, this man who chained his emotions in tidy bindings behind a cold visage.
The warmth in his gaze fled. Zach eased to his back.
“Please.” Greer couldn’t stop the plea’s escape.
His jaw twitched. He drew a breath. She held her own in preparation for his answer.
Zach yanked back the sheet, revealing a wide, lean torso. His feet swung to the ground and he stood in one graceful maneuver. The jaundice of healing bruises marred his sculpted back, the powerful globes of his exposed butt, and the robust columns of his hairy legs.
Oh, Zach.
She almost sobbed the words, but managed to choke them back for ones that might not chafe so much.
“Saulter?”
He sighed and gave her his facial profile. “It’s just a body, Greer. I didn’t get naked to put the moves on you. I can’t sleep in clothes.” He shuffled to the dining table and grabbed his jeans off the back of the chair.
Greer sat, tossed the covers off her legs, and shifted onto her heels.
“I don’t care about that. It’s your…bruises. Your scars.”
“You don’t?” Calling her bluff, Zach gripped the pants in his fist and turned.
Greer double-fisted the reins on the naive part of herself that smacked a hand to her forehead and fainted, as well as the hormonal one that fell to her knees in writhing moans of worship. She kept her gaze trained on Zach’s challenging gray eyes and off his fully erect manhood.
“I don’t.”
She should care that a man had slipped naked into bed with her. Though, it was his bed. It should teach her to get into a man’s bed at all. Not that he’d done anything presumptuous.
Her chest expanded on a fortifying breath. Meaningfully, inch by inch, Greer lowered her gaze first to the scar on his chest, and then to another on his abdomen. Her lungs screamed for release. Her lady bits tingled in response, but she refused to swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth.
She continued down his body to the cuts and bruises on his legs. If only she’d had the wherewithal to journey back up his hulking warrior body without blushing. Instead, she shifted her gaze to his. Too late she realized his gaze was locked on the front of her shirt. More accurately, the points of her nipples that tented the fabric.
“You don’t?” One of his brows cocked lazily.
“I want to know how long they had you and why. I want to know what they did to you, how you managed to suffer through it, and how you escaped. I don’t expect you to tell me all of it. But at least the basics.”
He chuckled, causing the etched lines of his abs to contract. The hollow sound echoed through her, nearly knocking her on her ass.
“Get dressed, Greer.”
“You first,” she shot back.
“It bothers you.” He grinned, a trite showing of teeth. “At least I know there’s blood in your veins and not ice.”
Anger thrashed about inside Greer’s chest.
“Me? Oh, you’re one to talk about ice in the veins.” Her hands flexed, keeping pace with her rage. “You’ve never smiled or yelled or cried. Not once in seven months have you shown a true emotion. It’s all for show. Even when you get mad. It’s fake. You’re fake.”
Ooh. She hit a nerve with that one. His eyes came to life, sparking as they had the day before. Red colored his cheeks. Striations shown on the tops of his shoulders and in his arms from the strangle hold he kept on the jeans.
“I’m fake? You’ve watched me like a bloody leopard ready to pounce on my cock at the first chance, and then I find out you’re a virgin.”
“Well, I already knew you were an asshole. Not hard to figure out. And I didn’t watch you for that.” She jabbed a finger at his junk.
“You can’t even say it,” he laughed.
“Oh, for the love…” Greer tossed her hands into the air.
“Why’d you watch me then? I mean, if you can’t even say penis, you surely wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“Fuck you and your big dick.” Her voice rose an octave with each word.
That hiked both his brows. “So, now you’re interested?”
“I watched you because I wanted to see something real from you, something honest.”
They stood there for a full minute, descending from the height of frenzy.
“Well,” he sneered, “sorry to disappoint you.”
“You didn’t.” ...
The haze of drugs, along with the need for more, faded into the background like a bad dream. As soon as her eyes opened though, all her unanswered questions stampeded with thundering hooves.
Zach Saulter lay three feet away. He dragged a lazy arm over his eyes, and then rubbed a hand over his mouth and sturdy chin.
Greer’s hand flew to her heart on a two-fold mission. One, make certain she still wore clothes. Two, keep the thudding under wraps.
“Calm down. I didn’t steal your virtue.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Sure you were.” He turned those stormy eyes on her. “But I’m the one who had to worry about having his virtue stolen.”
“Hilarious.” Greer turned onto her side toward him, tucked her legs to her chest, and adjusted the pillow under her head.
“What?” His lips pursed. “You think you couldn’t steal it because I don’t have it or because you don’t have it in you to do it?” He rolled onto his side and shrugged for emphasis. The move shifted the sheet. It fell off his bare shoulder. “Because those vicious limbs could fleece the kindness of a monk. I swear you kicked me in the kidney three times and the nuts once.”
She tried to follow the line of conversation, but the hump of his massive shoulders and the swell of the top of his pec made breathing difficult.
“You said the bed was mine.”
“I just wanted a two-foot strip.” He held his hands two feet apart indicating the distance, but he’d lost her completely.
Bubbled, peeling skin jarred her more than his beautiful physique, which was saying something because his muscles caused a tingle in muscles she didn’t know she had. The burn was an irregular shape just above his nipple. Her finger automatically lifted to her mouth to cover her shock.
His gaze lowered to the maybe week-old wound, turning to a scar. When he met her gaze again the drowsiness had vanished, along with the hint of playfulness he’d revealed. The wall rose into place, high and proud.
She couldn’t let it go.
“How many days?”
He’d been imprisoned by the Stas. It explained his disappearance and his injuries. But as frightening and infuriating as her captivity had been, his had been worse. Much worse. Her fingers ached to reach out to him, this man who chained his emotions in tidy bindings behind a cold visage.
The warmth in his gaze fled. Zach eased to his back.
“Please.” Greer couldn’t stop the plea’s escape.
His jaw twitched. He drew a breath. She held her own in preparation for his answer.
Zach yanked back the sheet, revealing a wide, lean torso. His feet swung to the ground and he stood in one graceful maneuver. The jaundice of healing bruises marred his sculpted back, the powerful globes of his exposed butt, and the robust columns of his hairy legs.
Oh, Zach.
She almost sobbed the words, but managed to choke them back for ones that might not chafe so much.
“Saulter?”
He sighed and gave her his facial profile. “It’s just a body, Greer. I didn’t get naked to put the moves on you. I can’t sleep in clothes.” He shuffled to the dining table and grabbed his jeans off the back of the chair.
Greer sat, tossed the covers off her legs, and shifted onto her heels.
“I don’t care about that. It’s your…bruises. Your scars.”
“You don’t?” Calling her bluff, Zach gripped the pants in his fist and turned.
Greer double-fisted the reins on the naive part of herself that smacked a hand to her forehead and fainted, as well as the hormonal one that fell to her knees in writhing moans of worship. She kept her gaze trained on Zach’s challenging gray eyes and off his fully erect manhood.
“I don’t.”
She should care that a man had slipped naked into bed with her. Though, it was his bed. It should teach her to get into a man’s bed at all. Not that he’d done anything presumptuous.
Her chest expanded on a fortifying breath. Meaningfully, inch by inch, Greer lowered her gaze first to the scar on his chest, and then to another on his abdomen. Her lungs screamed for release. Her lady bits tingled in response, but she refused to swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth.
She continued down his body to the cuts and bruises on his legs. If only she’d had the wherewithal to journey back up his hulking warrior body without blushing. Instead, she shifted her gaze to his. Too late she realized his gaze was locked on the front of her shirt. More accurately, the points of her nipples that tented the fabric.
“You don’t?” One of his brows cocked lazily.
“I want to know how long they had you and why. I want to know what they did to you, how you managed to suffer through it, and how you escaped. I don’t expect you to tell me all of it. But at least the basics.”
He chuckled, causing the etched lines of his abs to contract. The hollow sound echoed through her, nearly knocking her on her ass.
“Get dressed, Greer.”
“You first,” she shot back.
“It bothers you.” He grinned, a trite showing of teeth. “At least I know there’s blood in your veins and not ice.”
Anger thrashed about inside Greer’s chest.
“Me? Oh, you’re one to talk about ice in the veins.” Her hands flexed, keeping pace with her rage. “You’ve never smiled or yelled or cried. Not once in seven months have you shown a true emotion. It’s all for show. Even when you get mad. It’s fake. You’re fake.”
Ooh. She hit a nerve with that one. His eyes came to life, sparking as they had the day before. Red colored his cheeks. Striations shown on the tops of his shoulders and in his arms from the strangle hold he kept on the jeans.
“I’m fake? You’ve watched me like a bloody leopard ready to pounce on my cock at the first chance, and then I find out you’re a virgin.”
“Well, I already knew you were an asshole. Not hard to figure out. And I didn’t watch you for that.” She jabbed a finger at his junk.
“You can’t even say it,” he laughed.
“Oh, for the love…” Greer tossed her hands into the air.
“Why’d you watch me then? I mean, if you can’t even say penis, you surely wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“Fuck you and your big dick.” Her voice rose an octave with each word.
That hiked both his brows. “So, now you’re interested?”
“I watched you because I wanted to see something real from you, something honest.”
They stood there for a full minute, descending from the height of frenzy.
“Well,” he sneered, “sorry to disappoint you.”
“You didn’t.” ...