“Flygirl,” he whispered, tickling her ear with the cool air of his breath. “Look at me.”
She stretched from her fingers to her toes, sighed happily, and opened her eyes to look into his beautiful blue ones.
“What you do to me,” she murmured with a smile she couldn’t help. “God, I feel so good.”
His finger drew a circle around her nipple, bringing it back to a hardened nub and making her moan all over again. “So good? Is that what you said?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“What about loved, Manon? Do you feel loved?”
She put her hand on his and looked into his eyes. “I do.”
“That’s good,” he murmured, bringing his tongue to her nipple where his fingers still teased. “Because I love you, Manon—with all my heart, my fingers, my lips, my tongue, all of my body, but most importantly—with my soul.” He parted her legs with his knee and with a quick thrust, they became one.
“I love you, Mantis,” she said, arching her back, feeling him go deeper, like he was in her soul too.
“Where’d you go just now, baby?” he asked in a voice as soft and sweet and hot and fiery as the sex she’d been daydreaming about had always been between them.
She opened her eyes, but didn’t look at him. She couldn’t, not without him knowing exactly what she’d been thinking about and how much she wanted to be with him like that—right this minute.
Chapter 15
Dutch
“You’ll be meeting with Mohamed Abdullahi,” Doc told him.
He recognized the name. The current president of Somalia, known as “Hermeja,” had immigrated to the States and had worked as a civil servant in Upstate New York. He’d earned degrees in history and political science, all the while determined to one day return to his homeland. Some said he purchased his victory as president, funded by “organizations” anxious to further democracy in the small nation. Regardless, his anti-corruption platform resulted in a surprising win.
“Who else am I meeting with?”
“Ahmed Umar, the head of al-Shabaab.”
Dutch knew enough not to bother asking. There was no way Abdullahi and Umar would ever be in the same room at the same time.
“When do I leave?”
“Tomorrow, but you’ll stop at Ramstein first.”
The base in southwestern Germany served as headquarters for the United States Air Force in Europe and also for NATO Allied Air Command, also known as AIRCOM. If he was stopping there, it meant that the war in Somalia had escalated enough that NATO was about to get involved.
He put his feet up on the coffee table that sat in front of the sofa in his hotel suite. He was up for the challenges of this op, probably the most important of his career. Like Mantis’ mission in Afghanistan, when he got to the other side of it, no one would know it had even happened, and that was okay.
The politicians of the world could take credit for the things he and his K19 partners made happen all day long. He wasn’t in it for the glory; he was in it to save the goddamn world.
Not everyone understood what drove men like him. There were probably a lot of people who believed he’d gone to the Air Force Academy because it was an easy road to a career. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth, both in why he’d done it and in its perceived ease. Nothing he’d done since the day he arrived in Colorado until where he found himself today, had been easy. Most of it had been gut-wrenchingly, heart-poundingly, soul-numbingly hard.
Like his grandfather and father before h
im, Thomas “Dutch” Miller had been brought up knowing freedom wasn’t free. The kind of life most took for granted was hard won, at the cost of hundreds and thousands of soldiers and their families who had given the ultimate sacrifice.
If he ever had a son or daughter, he’d want them to understand that it wasn’t just their duty to serve their country; there was no greater honor.
He picked up the bottle of whiskey and glass that sat in front of him and poured his second shot of the night. As it burned all the way down his throat, he wondered where Mantis and Alegria were tonight.
Were they rediscovering all the things that made them fall in love with each other in the first place? He closed his eyes and imagined the two of them together. Sure, it hurt like hell, but at the same time, he felt a sense of honor in doing what he believed was the right thing, no matter what his own personal sacrifice might’ve been.
“Here’s to you and the life I hope you build together,” he said, raising his glass to the two imaginary friends standing in front of him. “I hope you both know how much I love you.”