Submission Impossible (Masters & Mercenaries Reloaded 1)
“How are you going to survive the class?” Noelle proved they shared similar minds as she asked the question he’d been about to pose. “I looked at the curriculum and talked to my aunt. I think there is definitely nudity coming up soon.”
“Ah,” Kyle began. “You obviously do not understand the value of compartmentalization. There’s the club, where nudity among friends is acceptable. The locker room? Acceptable place to see your friend’s junk. Waking up and walking into the kitchen? Not acceptable. I did not sign up for that risk. I will jump in front of a bullet for either of you. I fully expect to die on this assignment because it’s been that kind of year. Honor my future sacrifice by not forcing me to die with the sight of Hutch humping seared into my brain. Lock the door.”
Hutch rolled his eyes as Kyle strode up the stairs. Hutch followed Noelle to the ramp. It was easier on her than the stairs right now. When she used her cane the stairs here were manageable, but the crutches made things harder on her. He’d spent days watching her, learning how she adapted to her environment and filing it all away to make things easier on her.
He stopped as emotion threatened to swell again. He cared about her and she was vulnerable. She was smart and capable and still vulnerable. He fucking wished he’d had more time with Jeff. He’d barely managed to make the fucker bleed, though he’d gotten a couple of excellent gut shots in that the asshole would hopefully feel for days.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Noelle was standing in front of the door. “I’m okay. I’m tougher than anyone thinks, and I’ve already let it go.”
Kyle held the door open, frowning. “What are we talking about now?”
Noelle’s eyes never left Hutch. “He’s still angry about Jeff and his rejection of me, but I need him to understand that I’ve moved on and would prefer to concentrate on him and locking that door to my bedroom for the night.”
“Okay.” Hutch let the anger go because she didn’t need it. What other people thought didn’t matter, and he’d handled the situation. It was time to let it go. He moved up the ramp to join her. “It’s done.”
She lifted her face up to his, a glowy smile on her lips. “I’m glad. I love that you fought for me, but I need you to understand that it will happen again, and I don’t want you to punch everyone who insults me.”
He stared at her. She couldn’t believe he would sit back and let someone treat her like crap.
She stared right back. “I mean it.”
“I reserve the right to defend you, but I’ll think about it before I lose my shit,” he promised and dropped a kiss on those pretty lips of hers. He could quietly take names and make them pay for it later.
“I do not understand you two,” Kyle said with a sigh. He walked through the door.
“Thank you.” Noelle grinned before turning and starting inside.
Kyle didn’t understand how they could get each other. Noelle had known exactly what he was thinking. Hutch had never been so in synch with a woman.
He was going to get his hands on her again. He was going to turn the lights on and caress every inch of her skin. He wouldn’t give a flying fuck what Kyle thought, though he would definitely close the door. What happened tonight was going to be between the two of them. It was the real start of their relationship because they were both on the same page now.
He was falling in love with Noelle, and it felt good. And he didn’t care that his friends would make fun of him. It didn’t matter. He was going to understand why Big Tag still smiled when his wife walked in a room. Why Sean and Grace still held hands after all these years.
“Are you hungry?” Noelle asked. “I could make us some grilled cheese sandwiches.”
She stopped because Kyle held up a fist. It was a military gesture that let anyone who understood it know to go silent. It was a gesture that had his heart pounding for a completely different reason than it had two minutes before.
Hutch stood in front of Noelle, who seemed to understand what Kyle wanted. Hutch moved his hand to the back of his jeans where his Glock 22 was secure in a holster under his shirt.
“You can’t come in here and expect me to take care of you.” A deep voice spoke out of Hutch’s sight. Masculine.
“I don’t know. You seem to be doing pretty well.”
This voice was familiar and feminine. He recognized it from the night she’d spent at Noelle’s dinner table.
“Is that Cara?” Noelle whispered the question.
Hutch nodded. It sure sounded like her, and he thought she was talking to the second shift guard. Chris Taylor. Chris Taylor, who was also DPD and perhaps working with the feds.