Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting New York (Kindle Worlds Novella)

Protecting New York

Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.

This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Stoker Aces Production, LLC. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Special Forces: Operation Alpha remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Stoker Aces Production, LLC, or their affiliates or licensors.

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Protecting New York
Lainey Reese
Acknowledgments

S
pecial shout
out to my girl Teresa Hall. You rock!

Special thanks to Susan Stoker for inviting me in on this project and for letting Dude and Shy come play with me. I love them like they are my own now.

F
or Carl
. I could not have finished this book in time without your kindness, your strength, your love or your support. You are my hero. Thank you for showing me that the love I write about isn’t just in my imagination.

Chapter 1

G
roup text between Cami
, Ziporah and Evan

C: “Dude? What kind of name is Dude?”

E: “It’s his military nickname.”

C: “What’s his real name?”

E: “Faulkner.”

Z: “What the hell kind of name is Faulkner?”

C: “You’re one to talk,
Ziporah.
Glass houses and all that.”

Z: “Hey! Ziporah is an Old Testament bible name so it’s legit, and besides I was named after my Bubbe.”

C: “True, true. Still, it’s a good thing he’s got all those muscles and that hero thing going for him. That’s all I’m saying.”

Evan fought the smile that threatened to break through as he read his wives’ playful banter. The two of them were a constant source of joy. And they certainly kept him on his toes.

C: “Muscles? Yes, but the pictures are all bluhky! Evan? Sneak a picture for us? Please???!”

E: “Can’t. He’s not here yet. Besides. Guys don’t take pictures of other guys, Brat.”

Z: “Didn’t you see him when you looked him up online, C?”

C: “Well, yeah. But the only ones I saw were the grainy newspaper shots from the article when he saved Cheyenne from the bomb.”

Z: “Those were the only ones I found too. You could tell he’s hot though.”

C: “I’d like a cooberating witness.”

Z: “Good lord, woman. Put down the phone before you hurt yourself.”

Evan could practically hear Z’s groan. She was an ADA for the city and Cami sometimes threw out random legal jargon to get a rise out of her. It always worked.

Z: “That would be corroborating, moron. And since it’s a picture it would be evidence, not a witness.”

“Well, this could go on for days,” Evan said under his breath with a smile and tucked his phone into his back pocket. Then he tried to focus on the conversation around him. And not on the raging erection texting with his women always caused.

Before he could pick up the thread, a mountain of a man walked up to their table. Just the sheer force of his presence brought not only the conversation at Evan’s table to a standstill, but the tables around them went silent as well. All eyes stayed glued to the newcomer’s towering form.

“Faulkner, glad you made it.” Brice stood and shook hands with him, then turned to the group. “Gentlemen, I’d like you all to meet Faulkner Cooper. Faulkner, this is my cousin, Cade Marshall, that’s Trevor Wellington, the blond Viking is Gage Hollister, then Evan Grant. And you already met my partner, Kent.”

Faulkner acknowledged each man in turn with a nod and a handshake, then removed his dark sunglasses as he sat.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Evan told him while the waiter filled his water glass. “You’ve had our boys in blue here all starstruck and dewy eyed ever since they heard you were coming to the police convention.”

The others at the table chuckled. Kent plucked a roll from the basket on the table and beaned it at his head. Evan caught it with ease and quirked an eyebrow as he took a huge bite. “Thanks,” he said, voice muffled around the mouthful, just to antagonize his friend.

“Is this your first time to New York City, Faulkner?” Cade asked.

“Nah, I’ve been here a couple times before, but it’s my wife’s first time. She’s bouncing-off-the-walls excited.”

Evan was struck by how talking about his wife transformed the man’s entire demeanor. It went from intimidating and a little scary to approachable and soft.

“That’s great,” Cade told him. “There is a never-ending list of things she will want to see and do while you are busy with the conference.”

Faulkner nodded hesitated a bit at that. “Yeah. She has a bunch of shit she’d like to see, but she’s a small-town girl. She’d probably never admit it, but I think your big city has her cowed. She told me she’s gonna chill at the hotel until I get done so we can do her sightseeing in the evenings together.”

“Oh, you look thrilled at that plan,” Brice said with a laugh.

“Hey, I got an idea,” Trevor chimed in. “Both Riley and Terryn have the next three days off—why don’t we hook the ladies up and they can show her around? Save you the horrors of tour buses and museums. Besides, a lot of the touristy stuff closes shop pretty early—this way she won’t miss out on anything.”

“That’d be great,” Faulkner said with a genuine smile. “You sure your ladies won’t mind spending their off time playing tour guide?”

“Nah,” Trevor piped in. “Riley loves this city. She still sees it with the eyes of a tourist herself. She’s gonna flip when we give her somebody new to show it off to.”

He wasn’t the only one who called out with an “I hear that” or something similar. Evan and his friends were a tight-knit group and Riley’s love of New York was well known and shared by all. They all loved the city and her enthusiasm for it was truly infectious.

“That’s great, then. I’ll give Shy a call. She’s gonna love having her own personal tour guides.”

“Shy?” Gage asked.

“Cheyenne,” Faulkner answered. “Shy for short.”

“You gentlemen ready to order?”

While the waitress took their orders, Evan watched Faulkner as he interacted with both the waitstaff and his friends.

The man had an intensity to him that was compelling, to say the least. There was a quality that fit right in with the rest of his dining companions. All but Detective Kent were Sexual Dominants in committed BDSM relationships with their wives. And the striking man sitting across from him was cut from the same cloth. If Evan were a betting man, he’d lay money on Faulkner having some decidedly Master-like behaviors in the bedroom.

“Brice has been excited as a schoolgirl about you coming to the conference and giving your lecture as the preeminent explosives expert,” Trevor was saying. “But what he didn’t tell us was which branch of the military you’re from.”

“I’m a SEAL.”

Then, like a typical stoic Dom, he left it at that. No elaboration or further comment.

Evan was confident he wasn’t the only one who picked up these clues. The men at this table were among the finest Doms he’d ever met, each at the Master status. Not much got by any of them. He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as the evening he had envisioned—polite and proper dinner party with polite and proper conversation—was replaced with new and exciting possibilities.

It was a crying shame that he and his wives were not able to make it tonight. The Coopers were here for an additional three nights, however, and he was going to make it a point to not miss out on the next night’s festivities.

Chapter 2

T
wo hours later
, Faulkner “Dude” Cooper let himself into his hotel suite. What was supposed to have been a one-hour obligation lunch with a couple of the detectives in charge of the convention had stretched into two-plus hours of interesting conversation with compelling and dynamic men. He had been pleasantly surprised and was now looking forward to his daytime hours as well as the nighttime ones he would spend with the love of his life.

“You’re back.”

Speaking of which…

Cheyenne emerged just then from the bathroom. God, he loved his woman. There she stood, dressed in a white fluffy towel with another wrapped turban-style around her dark hair. Shy wasn’t too tall and she wasn’t too short. She was slender without being bony and had just the right amount of softness to her to make a man never want to leave a bed as long as she was in it.

“I didn’t expect you back until after six. I would have started getting ready sooner otherwise.” Cheyenne held her towel up between her breasts with one hand while she self-consciously patted at the one wrapped around her head and chewed at her bottom lip.

“For what I have in mind,” he said as he stepped toward her, “you’re plenty ready.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” She flushed and it literally made his mouth water to see her still-damp skin turn a warm rose. “I know that look. And as fun as that sounds, aren’t you going to get in trouble or something?” She started backing up, a smile that she couldn’t quite prevent tugging at the corners of her lips.

The need to have her and have her now was too strong to be denied.

“The important stuff they needed me for was all taken care of before lunch. I can skip out on the rest of today’s crap. It ain’t gonna be near as fun as this.” Then, before she could respond, he snatched the towel from her body and flung it over his shoulder. Her squeal was music to his ears, her naked body a decadent feast for his eyes.

“Dude!” she exclaimed as her hands first flailed for a bit, then covered her juicy breasts. “I don’t have any makeup on yet. And I bought some pretty lacy things to wear for you too.”

“I like what you’re wearing just fine.” His eyes lifted from her delectable body to her lock with hers. “Shy. Hands down at your sides.”

She loved when he got bossy with her during sex as much as he did, and the deepening of her blush proved it.

“But,” she wailed even as she complied, “my hair is in a towel. I look ridiculous.”

“I think you look adorable,” he told her and decided to rattle her a little by taking a slow walk around her. She stayed put, as he knew she would. Shy was his equal in every way and she loved his dominant streak as much as he loved her submissive one.

“You’d think I looked adorable if I was dressed in burlap and covered in hives,” she told him with a snort.

“Your point?” he asked with one brow cocked.

“Well—” she started to reply, but Dude reached out to trail his left hand along her collarbone in a firm, smooth glide, and the words died on her still-parted lips.

There was a time in his life when he would have hesitated before using his ruined left hand, with its missing fingers and mangled scars. Shy had never once cringed from his scars, however, and had in fact told him repeatedly that in her eyes, they made him even sexier. To her, they were proof of his heroism and his service to their country. So now he saw nothing but deepening desire in her expression as he ran that hand over her dewy flesh to cup one trembling breast.

“You’re beautiful, Shy,” he told her in a voice gone deep with desire. “So fucking beautiful.”

Whatever she’d opened her mouth to reply was lost when he closed the distance between them and sealed his lips to hers.

Her kiss was as lush as her figure and the way her tongue slipped in to tangle with his caused something almost savage to come to life inside him. His Shy always had this effect on him—if anything, it only got stronger with time.

Dude cupped the back of her neck to hold her still as he deepened the kiss. He angled her head for a better fit and when her turban shifted, he tugged it off and away. Her dark hair fell in wet ropes around her pretty face, a couple even landing on his nose and cheek, surrounding him in the delicious scent of her shampoo.

“Mmm,” he murmured as he pulled back. “You smell”—he came back to lick at her puffy lips—“and taste delicious.” She always wore flavored lip gloss and she knew how much it pleased him. “You already put on lip gloss?” he asked with a smile as he continued to nibble at the lips in question.

“Yeah, salted caramel.” Her answer was breathy. Her voice had dropped a couple octaves with her desire, he was happy to note. “Moisturize before you dry off. That’s the rule. Body and face. That includes the lips.”

A low needy sound emerged from him while he dipped his head. He took a nip at a particularly sensitive spot on her shoulder and let his hands wander where they would, filling themselves with the glory that was his woman.

“Is that your magic secret?” he asked while the silky feel and intoxicating scent of her fired his need to dangerous levels. “Is that how come I can’t keep my hands and mouth off of you?”

If she answered, he didn’t hear it over the need churning in his gut. Given the size of the suite and the fact that they’d barely made it past the bathroom door, the bed was too far away. Instead, with a growl, he clamped his hands on the succulent globes of her ass and lifted her until her legs wrapped around his hips.

His Cheyenne was no passive lover. Submissive, yes, but not passive. She clamped on to him with a hunger that matched his in every way. He could feel the heat of her sweet core pressed against his cock as she used every bit of strength she had to grind against him.

He was lucky to make it to the couch. When he did, he fell back on it with a grateful groan and adjusted them both until he had one foot braced on the floor for leverage, Shy on top of him.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he exclaimed when she sat back and he got a look at her naked body perched atop his still fully clothed one. “Shy. Reach between us and open my pants. Then take me out, baby. Hurry.”

Her hands fumbled as she did as she was told. They faltered even more so when he lifted his head and latched on to one of her tightly budded nipples.

As soon as he was freed, she maneuvered until he was poised to enter her.

“Stop,” he ordered, though it made his teeth clench to wait even a second longer. “Hands behind your back. That’s it. Now keep them there and don’t move.”

Careful not to dislodge himself, he lifted until he could wrap his arms around her, then clamped a hand on each of her wrists. He kept her arms folded behind her. The complete trust she placed in him never failed to fire his blood, and today was no exception. As he tightened his grip and adjusted his hold until their torsos were perfectly aligned, all in his world was perfect.

“Brace yourself, Shy,” he warned. “And I want you to stay as still as possible for me. Okay?”

When she only nodded, her ragged breath an indication that he wasn’t the only one ready to burst, he kissed her tasty lips hard and quick. “Words, Shy. You know I need to hear your words.”

“Okay.” Breathy, trembling and sexy as hell. “Okay. I’ll be still.”

And that was all he needed. In one fluid movement, he laid their upper bodies back to the couch, still keeping her arms manacled behind her, and slid inside with one sharp plunge.

His cock swelled even more as the heat of her saturated him. That heat ignited a fire in his soul, a hunger that would never be satiated and a thirst that would never be quenched. Dude’s mind was a kaleidoscope of images, swirling and incandescent. Her lovely bouncing breasts, her passion-ravaged face, the root of his shaft wet and glistening as he withdrew, then the sight of her sex-swollen lips when they welcomed him back in. It was a miracle his fucking mind didn’t snap from the pleasure of it.

She was poised above him, her beautiful face marked with desire as his hips beat out a fast and furious tempo into hers. Holding her like this, Dude was able to use Shy’s weight to pull her into his thrusts so the position put friction on her clit. Neither of them were going to last. She was tight and wet and felt like God himself had designed her to fit only him.

Just when he thought he was going to have to stop so he wouldn’t come before she did, he felt it. Shy’s body tightened around his and her cries turned to wails. Dude brought her in closer still and let his hips fly, pounding up into her wet and pulsating heat so the climax would come in like a hurricane.

She gave herself up to it and him completely. Dude thought his heart would fly right out of his chest when she pressed her forehead to his and locked eyes with him. When she did this, let him see what his lovemaking did to her, it demolished his self-control. With a howl he didn’t bother to bite back, Dude let go and followed her over that cliff.

And as they both panted and shuddered in the throes of it, they never broke that scintillating eye contact.

* * *

L
ater
, as they lay tangled together, listening to their heartbeats return to normal, Dude spoke. “Shy? I wanna talk to you about something. I know you are new to the kinkier side of sex, and baby I can’t tell you what it means to me that you have put your trust in me so far.”

He felt her smile where her cheek rested on his chest.

“I love what you do to me. Everything you do to me.” Her hesitant whisper was like a shot of whiskey, filling his gut with warmth and his head with all sorts of ideas.

“I was hoping we could take our time together here to turn things up a notch or two.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, lifting up a little to look him in the eye.

“Well, the guys I was talking to at lunch today are Doms. Like me.” She jolted. “Well, not exactly. They are into a lot of stuff that I haven’t felt the need to explore. Yet.” He cupped her beloved face and stroked his thumb over one silken cheek. “I’d like to explore some of those things here. It’ll be new for you. I’ve been to clubs before, but you haven’t. So, we won’t take this step until you are a hundred percent ready for it. I mean it, Shy. Don’t just say yes because you wanna please me. That’ll just piss me off. I want you to think about it and only say yes if you are completely sold on the idea.”

“Well,” she told him, and he could see her taking him seriously and actually thinking it through. “What exactly are we talking here? You told me you weren’t into whips and chains and that the clubs weren’t your scene. Has that changed?”

“No,” he started, smiling at the memory. “I haven’t changed my mind. See, for a lot of the people in the club scene, it’s about protocol. Calling me Sir and shit like that. Most of the subs have to kneel and can’t make eye contact. A lot of—I don’t know… To me it looks like play acting and dress up. So, yeah. I’m still not into
that.
Or into anything that would cause you pain. Tonight, however, we’re going to skirt that stuff and explore the parts of it that I
am
into.”

She nodded. “Okay. That makes sense. Wait. You’re not talking like, wife swap or orgies are you?” Her face fell and she blurted, “You’re not going to try to make me watch you with another woman, are you?”

“Oh God, no!” His own horror matched hers. “No, Shy. Never. You know you’re it for me. And God help the poor bastard who tries to lay a hand on you.”

Her relief was so evident she simply melted over him with it.

“Thank the lord,” she told him. “You had me scared for a minute there.” Then she knocked the wind right out of him when she added, “As long as that’s straightened out, you know you can do anything to me that you want. You know I trust you. And I’ve loved everything so far so, yeah. Bring it.”

“I’m one damn lucky bastard, you know that?” He kissed the crown of her head and she squeezed him back in response. “So, full disclosure. If we go along for the full night’s plans, it’ll mean sex in front of other people. And them having sex in front of us too. No touching, obviously, and not like all mashed together. We’ll have our own station to play in, but people will be watching.”

She was still as she mulled that over. “Are you okay with that, Faulkner? Having other men see me naked? Watching you take me?”

“I’m glad you asked, honey.” He rubbed her back and lower until he had a handful of her juicy ass. “If it were in a different setting? Hell no. Not at all. But in a club that’s designated specifically for BDSM? Yeah. Because in there, it’s like another world. The people who are in the scene don’t look at sex and nudity the same way as the rest of the world. For them, it’s about embracing our natures and who we are. It’s about having a safe place to explore your desires, free of limits and free of judgments.”

He felt her nod as she took that in.

“I can see that,” she said, surprising him. “What? I’m in love with a Dom. You think I didn’t hit the Internet and do some research? I had to know what I was getting myself into.”

When he chuckled and shook his head, the grin she shot him was pure mischief.

“Like I said. As long as you and me are only going to touch and be touched by you and me, I’m good.”

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