Chapter Eleven

A surprised Lizzy opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“A guy can’t see his girl for four days in a row?”

“I’m not your girl.”

Johnny pushed past. The strappy dress she wore revealed tanned limbs, and he ached to kiss the couple of freckles dotting her right shoulder. Instead, he laid a pizza on the counter. “Want some?”

“It’s nine in the morning.”

“I’ve been up since five, sorting out the team’s week. They’re rolling in late tomorrow, and then we’ll be heading out the following day.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure.”

MIT2 were heading to the Kenyan territory bordering Somalia. They planned a joint training exercise for Kenyan first responders and law enforcement professionals to support efforts concerning extremist activity. MIT worked closely with PREACT—Partnership for Regional East Africa Counterterrorism—a US-funded multifaceted program designed to build counterterrorism capacity across East Africa to fight extremism. Al-Shabaab had a hold on the region, and PREACT needed all the help they could get.

Lizzy pulled a couple of plates from the dishwasher; the dress rode up revealing the backs of her thighs. “I have a flight scheduled for tomorrow evening. I baked some blueberry muffins if you prefer those instead?”

“Are you serious? Where, baby?”

“Are you asking where I’m flying or where the muffins are?”

“Muffins. I already checked your schedule. You’re heading to Cairo.”

“In the Tupperware next to the sink,” Lizzy said. “Instead of hacking the JetHaven database like a covert ninja, I can print off a copy of my schedule for you.”

“Whatever you want. That’s a cute dress, by the way.” He popped open the container.

She looked down at the turquoise sundress with a yellow African motif. “Thanks, I made it.”

“You made that?”

“Me and the older girls, back at the orphanage. They sell the dresses they make and have caused quite a stir in the Kenyan fashion community. We’re sitting on loads of back orders. I’m looking for additional second-hand sewing machines, at least three more. We might switch to just cutting dresses and slow down on the industrial clothing sales.”

“Wait, you make and sell safety overalls?” Johnny asked as he munched down half a muffin. It tasted damn fine, a warm center with a toasted sugary crust.

Lizzy half-jumped, half-wiggled her ass up onto the counter next to him. “We work with construction companies in the area. They require flame-retardant overalls for some of the mines. The cool thing is that all profits go directly to the orphaned girls, and we’ve opened savings accounts in their names. Esther is recruiting other volunteers to take turns guiding the girls.”

“How do you know how to make industrial workwear?” He couldn’t resist slipping her hair off her shoulder and rubbing a thumb over those two freckles.

“It’s not that hard. When I was a kid, I’d help out at my father’s mine during the holidays. I got bored pretty quickly and raced around like a hellion. My dad put me to work in the local uniform store on the mine. Instead of buying overalls at exorbitant prices, dad hired a crew to make them onsite. I ended up behind a sewing machine, and the rest is history.”

And that explained the grubby rabble-rousing side to Lizzy.

“A mine isn’t the safest place for a kid.”

Lizzy shrugged. “I liked it. I loved going below ground—descending into the bowels of the earth.” She waggled her brows.

Johnny polished off a second muffin. “Your father allowed you to go into the mines?”

“For the men and women who work below on a daily basis, it’s a harsh existence. When my father took over the coal mines, he was appalled by the safety conditions and the low labor rates at many of them. Safety and air quality are his biggest concern and he works hard to better the lives of the miners. He pays them well, looks after their families and gets their loyalty in return. It’s still not an ideal job, but yes. I’ve been in platinum mines and coal mines. Platinum mines are incredible—there’s this silver dust that floats and sparkles in the air, like moon dust. Of course, it’s nice to explore below as a visitor and I’ve made plenty of friends over the years.”

Stepping between her legs and shoving them apart, Johnny said, “You’re fascinating and fearless, Lizbug. Every day I learn something new about you.”

“You know that’s not true. Fear has run my life for the past few years.”

He rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “I can help you with that. You’re always safe with me.” He captured soft lips that tasted of coffee and took his time exploring that delicious mouth.

Johnny slid his hand slowly up her smooth leg to damp panties and nudged them out of the way. She sucked in a breath as he grabbed the back of her head, pulling her in for more. This was the furthest they’d ever gotten. His conscience in Johannesburg had prevented him from stepping over the line. Now, his thumb rested against her folds.

“Can I touch you, Lizbug?” he rasped between kisses.

“Please…yes, please.”

Johnny lightly traced her slit before stilling his thumb and applying steady pressure. Then he softly traced again, barely touching her wet heat. Alternating between firm massage and light touches, he started a secondary assault with his mouth, covering hers hungrily. He added a finger to the mix as she slicked up, pressing down with his thumb and stroking around her entrance with his finger. She moaned into his mouth as he slipped the tip inside. “You’re so tight. Shit.”

When she bit his neck, he thought he’d come. Instead, he eased her back onto the counter and ripped off her silken panties. As he slowly slipped up the skirt, he took in her beautiful pussy—cleanly shaven with a small manicured strip of hair. It called to him, and Johnny answered that call, kissing his way up her thigh to her apex. He clutched the dress material and pulled her down to reposition her against his mouth, his hand bunched as he worked her clit like he was feasting on another muffin. His finger slipped back into her tight entrance just as she came, surging up from the counter and jerking against his mouth.

“Oh, God… Oh, snap!” she yelped.

Johnny smiled into her orgasming heat. He pulled her to him with her still-fisted dress, cupping her ass and walking them around the counter. Time for the bedroom.

“Careful of Mr. Smithers!” Lizzy said as he plopped her onto the bed.

“Mr. what?”

She pulled a tired-looking stuffed rabbit—missing a fluffy ear and a beady eye—from under her shoulder. God, it was so ugly.

Lizzy laid it gently on the bedside table. “Mr. Smithers has been with me since I was a baby.” She turned and wriggled into the covers, grinning back at him. “I didn’t know it was like that!”

Johnny frowned as he peeled off his shirt and stripped off his pants, adding to the Lizzy piles of clothes strewn around the room.

“What? Oral?”

“Yes! Everything! That was an orgasm, right?”

He froze halfway through pulling off a sock. “This is inappropriate to ask right at this moment, but you’re telling me that your dickbag ex-fiancé never took care of your needs in the bedroom? Did he just rut and roll off? And I don’t know why I’m asking you this because I can’t think of him touching you.”

Lizzy bit her lip. “He didn’t get that far. To the rutting stage, or any stage really. Can I just say that you look like you’ve dropped out of the man-god heavens? That stomach. Son of a nutcracker, whatever is under those briefs… I don’t know if this is gonna work, will we even fit?”

He felt shock run through him. “I don’t understand.”

“This is awkward.” She blushed as he teetered and grabbed for the bedpost. “I haven’t actually been with a man. Ivan and I were going to wait…for our wedding night. He was a pretty religious guy. That was before he went crazy.”

Johnny stood, balanced on one leg, gaping as her virginal reality slammed in. Silence blew through the room like a grenade. Light shone through filmy curtains, casting the room in muted gold as she shifted awkwardly.

“Say something.”

He chose his words carefully. “Lizzy, you’re twenty-five years old.”

“Gee whiz. I’m the oldest damn virgin you know—thanks for reminding me.”

“I’m trying to get my head around—”

“Is it such a big deal?” She looked like she might cry.

He really hoped she wouldn’t. “You’ve sucker punched me, that’s all.”

“You think I’m a sheltered idiot.”

 “I don’t think that. I need time to get situated. I’ve never been with a virgin before; it’s not my thing.”

She winced. The mattress caved under his weight, something dug into his back, and Johnny pulled out a hairbrush from between his ass cheeks and placed it on the bedside table. He settled into a silken pillow, running over the new intel and taking it apart from all angles.

They came from opposite worlds—if she knew what he’d seen. Not on the job, but back when he was a teenager. His mom was a prostitute. There was no easy way to say it. Johnny only started dating when he’d joined the military—still terrified he’d end up like his mom and use sex as a weapon.

Sexually confident women appealed to him; they gave as good as they got. It was a mutually beneficial relationship where he’d always walked away knowing he’d never leave destruction behind. He’d built up a solid persona—a laid-back Johnny who stayed away from drama and coasted through life without a care. Then he’d met Lizzy—and destroyed her—without even touching her. He’d psychologically torn apart an already broken girl before ex-filling out of Johannesburg. That simple act had fucked up his carefully constructed world. And now he wanted to take it a step further? Wanting to imprint himself on her tiny, untouched body with his huge dick? No shitting way.

She was tiny in every way. Johnny stared at her small sandals lying on the floor by the window like they were made for a twelve-year-old. She curled into his side, tracing circles on his chest, and that traitorous dick stirred. Johnny was about to shift her off when she spoke.

“He started out small and worked his way up to the big stuff. First, my wrists were too scrawny; then I was too skinny. Ivan kept joking that I must have an eating disorder. Then I was too loud and silly. I was often told to keep my ditzy comments to myself.”

Johnny pulled her in closer, wanting to chase away those newly revealed shadows.

“At first, I ignored the jabs, but eventually I believed them. It was my fault. I wasn’t trying hard enough to be the perfect girlfriend. Hell. I was so young, just nineteen when I first met him. Ivan was a tall, rugby-playing engineering student. The star pupil in his field, and he was so charming—at least in the beginning.” Lizzy smiled. “He brought me flowers on every date—elaborate dates—with champagne and VIP passes to all the shows and clubs. I felt pretty, and then suddenly I didn’t. I felt less than. Less than him, less than the popular cheerleader he flirted with, less than myself.”

Brushing a curl from her cheek, Johnny looked down at his beautiful angel with the saddest baby blues. “I want to kill him already.”

She kept tracing circles, moving to the center of his chest as she continued. “I’ve always wondered if, from the start, Ivan knew who my father was. Did he purposely seduce me to marry into a wealthy mining family? Either way, it doesn’t matter. My father liked him—initially—and offered Ivan a position at one of his mines. Lining up engineering work that would help him earn his degree.”

Her tiny finger traced a figure of eight around Johnny’s belly button. Her touch, softly caressing.

“Ivan became a part of the family. We’d been dating for about a year when he proposed. At the time, he seemed perfect. I ignored my instincts and said yes. That’s when it all began to change. He grew into a controlling monster. I dreaded the weekends, knowing he’d pull me apart from the way I cooked his food to the way I did my hair.”

“What did your parents say?”

“I never told them. They seemed excited about the wedding. I didn’t know at the time, but things started disappearing onsite. Mining equipment. First the small stuff, ten pairs of gloves or tools. Then a truck went missing. The local police did nothing, so Daddy hired an investigator. They placed hidden cameras in the hot zones, and the footage pointed to Ivan. Daddy pulled him in for questioning. Ivan admitted to a gambling problem. He cried and begged my father to give him a second chance, said he’d tell me the truth and place himself in rehab. He said he’d pay back the money for the truck and equipment he’d stolen.”

“Your father believed him?” Johnny cupped her hand before playing with her fingers.

“He felt uncertain and let Ivan go—delayed pressing charges. He wanted to talk to me first, except I was on an afternoon shift at the Johannesburg General Hospital. Daddy drove over to talk to me, but I’d already left for the night. When I arrived home, I walked into an ambush.”

“Shit.” Johnny let go and rubbed his hand over his face—not wanting to hear the details he’d craved for so long.

“I’d closed the front door behind me. The lights were off, and I thought I was alone but I wasn’t. Ivan sat in the sitting room. The minute I saw him, I knew that something was horribly wrong.”

She started to tremble, and Johnny pulled her up, turning her towards him. “You don’t need to tell me.”

“Yes. I do.” Her eyes glazed as she stared past his shoulder. “This was the man I was supposed to marry. My future husband whom I trusted with my life. The first and last person I’d ever be with. The person who suddenly stood before me with dilated pupils—as high as a kite—and a gun in his hand. Ivan called me a whore and accused me of cheating. He called my family pretentious and snobby, and started ranting about my father. As he raved like a madman, I backed into the hallway and pressed a silent alarm. Ivan flipped when he realized what I’d done. I ran for the front door, and he dragged me away and threw me up the stairs, he then tossed me back down, proceeding to beat me with the butt of the gun.”

Johnny wanted to barf and sat up, leaning elbows on his knees. She curled away, speaking with a detachment reserved for victims of extreme violence. “The armed response unit entered the home through the back, just as Ivan placed the gun to my head. I saw the certainty in his eyes right before he pulled the trigger.”

Johnny inhaled a breath. “He pulled the trigger?”

“Yes, but the gun jammed. Ivan then turned it on himself. Pulled the trigger again and nothing happened. So, he placed the pistol down beside us, before wrapping his hands around my throat and squeezing.”

Johnny dragged her into his arms, rocking as she babbled on.

“One of the security guards shot Ivan in the shoulder. They dragged him off of me and called the paramedics. Ivan was hospitalized for a week and eventually sent to prison. He served only three years.”

“Yeah, recently released on good behavior. That asshole is now living in Lagos.”

“You know where he is?” She curled a hand around his biceps.

“I’ll always know where that shithead is hiding. I never knew of the details of that night, but I’ve kept track of him.”

As he laid her back down, Johnny scanned her gorgeous face and traced her delicate brows before whispering. “He pulled the fucking trigger.”

“I’m okay.”

“I’m not.” Johnny crushed her to the bed. Desperately wanting to erase the ghost of another man’s fingers around that delicate neck, he kissed that sweet arch. Ivan Chasov pulled the trigger. He pulled the trigger. He pulled the trigger. Visions of Lizzy lying broken on the floor, her head blown off was not something he would ever un-see in his jaded brain. There was perhaps a 0.015 % chance of a handgun jamming. Johnny didn’t much believe in a higher power, but someone or something watched over his precious princess that day.

That traumatic experience explained Lizzy’s existential crisis, why she ran and why she hated guns. Lizzy wasn’t just affected by PTSD; this wasn’t a case of “He pointed a gun at me.” This was “He pointed a gun at my head and pulled the trigger.” By some miracle she was alive and warm and writhing under his dedicated mouth. He tugged down her dress and breathed a kiss on a pretty, peaked nipple, before licking and savoring the round bud.

A dainty hand ran over his nape, and Johnny paused to pull it towards his mouth, nipping the delicate skin on that soft palm. Then he guided it down to his thick shaft, enjoying the feel of her eager fingers, tracing his growing heat through his white briefs. “Me—inside you—are you sure this is what you want?”

She looked back up and gave him a wondrous smile. “Since the moment I fell out of that darn tree into your arms.” Her hand slipped into the briefs and traced the tip of his cock. It bucked in response, craving her soft touch.

“Baby, you’re dangerous.”

She smiled. “Dangerous and desperate. Desperate for you to touch me like this.”

Looking down between them, he saw her other hand draw up her skirt and slowly circle herself, as she rubbed his cock in time with her ministrations. Fascination and burning arousal had him suspended, eyeing her center like a wolf, narrowing in on its prey. When a finger slipped inside that sweet slit, he growled and flipped her over.

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I want you fully naked, and I’ll be the one playing.” He pulled the zipper and tugged off her dress. She kicked it away as he turned her back over, running a hand over the satin skin.

“Lizbug, you’re so damn beautiful. Look at you.”

“You’ve always made me feel pretty.”

“I have nothing to do with this.” He ran a hand over a pale pink nipple, then slid across her belly and along her thigh. “Or this. It’s perfection.” Pulling the elastic from her braid, he unwound her hair until it lay in waves on the pillow, then he leaned off the bed and grabbed his pants, pulling a condom out of his wallet. Johnny hesitated.

“Don’t,” she warned.

“You deserve better than this on your first go-around—you deserve better than me.”

“If that’s the way you feel, then fine. I’ll have monkey sex with the very next guy who comes along.”

“Jesus, Lizzy. You know how to piss me off,” he growled savagely.

“Well, if you act like a damn fool, man, I’ll say damn fool things. I won’t wait forever, Jay Jay—make a decision.”