Wednesdays are great aren't they? I kinda like 'em!
I really like this particular Wednesday and I'll tell ya' why...
Because my guests Lila Munro and BethAnn Buehler are still around and sharing more great stuff!! Which means lots more fun for everyone!!
Today we're getting a double dose of excerpts...one from Alli and one from Brogan, the two terrific characters from Force Recon:Somalia we met yesterday. So sit back and enjoy!!
After surviving the vacation from hell in Beacon Bayou, the Force Recon team finds themselves one relationship, one fiancé, one child, and one marriage more than before they left Camp Lejeune for leave. But before they have a chance to process how a few days so completely changed their lives, they’re called away to Somalia, a hot bed of pirate activity. Their mission--rescue an embedded female marine taken prisoner.
Being a female marine isn’t easy for Allison Blaise. Choosing a life that's all about proving herself worthy of being one of the few and the proud right alongside her male counterparts, Alli volunteers for every special assignment that comes down the pipeline. This time that "go-to" attitude has landed her a stay as a prisoner to a few unsavory Somali pirates. After watching her four man extraction team be virtually destroyed before her eyes, Alli finds herself inexplicably drawn to the team leader, Brogan Baker. But that part of her that would normally heel to a Dominant man’s been damaged, and she fears it may be permanent.
Eric Ryan, AKA Chaos, has only been with the team a few weeks when he realizes he's got a few problems on his hands. Not only is he replacing a dead man, he’s vying for control of a team whose current leader knows all his dirty little secrets. While he’d like to be topped by the man in charge he knows it’s probably impossible and Eric’s discovered something in him is attracted to the woman attached to Brogan's side every waking minute.
With their team in a constant state of change and under duress, Aaron finds himself struggling to accept the notion that he's worth being loved and unable to impress his soon to be grandfather -in-law. Worse, he can’t shake the guilt that’s haunted him ever since the botched rescue in Somalia. But Aaron’s not the only one with problems. Gabe thought his life was under control until Ros reveals yet another secret, one he’s so distracted by he almost doesn’t survive the trip home from Somalia. A secret Ros may not survive either.
Just when they thought they were strong enough to make it through anything, the Force Recon team is once again faced with enough to either make them or break them.
From Alli’s story:
“Come in,” she barely spoke, staring at the same spot on the wall she had for God only knew how long.
It was ironic really. She’d been without a measure of time for weeks and now that she was here, she still didn’t know the time and it was unnerving. Without a way to tell the time, she didn’t even know how long she’d been here. Not much different from what she’d been doing. Waiting on time to pass. Alli heard footsteps but never bothered glancing up to see who was coming. She just lay there curled up until two enormous thighs still wrapped in dirty black material met her line of vision. When she mustered the nerve, she looked up and there he was.
The Gunny that had carried her out of that house of horror stood there looking at her and as Alli met his eyes she shuddered. She could tell he seemed to think he could keep his eyes veiled, but Alli could read them. There was so much Dom sparking in them that Alli’s breath caught and a tiny sliver of fear ran up her spine. She wasn’t afraid of him, but of what he could manage to make her do if their situation was different. True she was submissive to the core, but she’d never completely given herself to anyone. Her body, okay. Her mind, rarely. But never heart and soul, and something in this one’s eyes told her that if given half a chance, he’d steal that from her in a Dixie minute.
“Got a minute,” he asked, acting like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself or his hands. They worked at his sides as if he fought the urge to reach out and touch.
“That’s about all I have left, Gunny,” Alli whispered. “Time.” She adjusted a bit and pushed up then cleared her throat. “That Corpsman? Did he?”
“He did. And he’s in surgery,” he told her much to her relief. “Brogan Baker,” he said with a crooked half smile. “Sorry it’s under these circumstances, but nice to meet you.”
“I’m Allison Blaise,” she answered, taking his hand and almost flinching when he squeezed and ran a thumb over the back of hers. “I prefer Alli.” She eased her hand out of his and took a breath. “So, the death toll due to Alli’s stupidity is at one presently,” she gritted out, running her hands over her face and through her pixie hair that needed trimmed and probably looked more like a troll right now. “Hasn’t the Corps figured out by now that sometimes one isn’t worth the trouble of a few?”
She said it bitterly knowing that she’d wished for help repeatedly every damn time she heard a plane go over for weeks. Then that help came and it was a complete disaster. Proof positive one should watch what they wish for.
“We are a man down,” Brogan said. “But you’re safe and that’s all that counts.”
Alli sighed and a single tear rolled down her cheek as she watched the man run his hands through his still dusty hair. She swiped the tear away and grabbed a quick peek at Brogan’s eyes again seeing something so completely daunting she lowered them again. She ground her jaw aggravated that every single instinct in her demanded she heel to this man. Then his words absorbed. Safe. Was she?
Brogan tried like hell not to do it, resisting the urge to think about pulling Alli over his knee while she was going on about all that release this, release that, trust bullshit. Brogan heard it a million times from Mistress Anne. And it wasn't that Alli was wrong--she wasn't. Sometimes there was nothing that soothed the soul like the sting of release, a bloom of feeling that started as a slow burn and ended in an inferno that was fire to the senses and salve for the wound yet didn't leave a scar. He didn't want to be the kind of man that had to have the last word but fuck it all if he could do it. He absolutely couldn't let Alli insinuate that she dabbled in the lifestyle and actually needed to be dominated without taking a stab at getting the last word.
Pulling into her neighborhood now, Brogan counted at least ten reasons why this was a bad idea. First off, it was early and she was probably still in bed, although thinking it over, Brogan couldn't really see the negative in that one. She'd been hurt at the hands of men that wanted to destroy her--that was a big one. And then there was Brogan himself. He only counted for at least half of the reasons turning Alli over his knee was a horrible decision. Throwing his Rover in park in the middle of her driveway, Brogan sat dead still, unable to move.
"Go away, Daddy," Alli cried. "I'm fine. I was fine the last time, I'm fine today and I'll be fine tomorrow. It's zero fucking dark thirty--go away!"
Daddy? Good lord! That certainly wasn't a word Brogan expected to hear when he stepped on Alli's front porch and started knocking on her door.
"I'm not your father, Alli," Brogan said, trying to stop his mind from wandering down that path, never once wanting a woman to call him daddy.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Gunny?" she said spearing him with a hateful stare.
Wishing he hadn't said a word, Brogan stared at a bed headed Alli and prayed for a hole in the porch decking to just swallow him whole.
Alli started to slam the door in his face when he reached out and put both hands on the edge of it.
"No one sent me. You can put away the claws," Brogan mentioned, noticing Alli was clenching the doorframe white knuckled as he stopped it from slamming in his face.
"What do you want?" she growled, wrestling with the door. "Why do you keep tracking me down and making me..." Alli slapped her mouth shut.
Brogan stepped through the door not caring that Alli didn't want him there. For the moment, nothing mattered to him but showing one clearly lost little girl she could find what she needed with him if she'd stop playing games long enough to see what was standing right in front of her.
"What do you think you're doing?" Alli cried when Brogan pushed her back into the living room and shut the door behind him. "Do you always go around early in the morning breaking and entering at will where ever you please?"
Caught flat footed with a woman for the first time in years, Brogan honestly didn't know which way to go. Staring at Alli in little more than a tattered sleep shirt sans underwear, he was certain she'd be easy to seduce. And seeing the way she always stopped short with what she wanted to say and diverted her eyes, she'd clearly been trained long enough that if Brogan told her to hit the floor, she'd probably go with little hesitation. But as much as trying to woo her didn't appeal to him, neither did humiliating her. Brogan had never warmed to the idea of having a slave in any sense. In fact, if anything, he wanted more of a playmate, a full contact, no holds barred lover that didn't always stop short. Going a few rounds with Alli, whether on the mat at the gym or over coffee at the kitchen table, turned Brogan on more than the thought of her on her knees in front of him.
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