KarensTaboos
Really Really Experienced
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- May 9, 2013
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- 344
i have to say... i love this.... blushes slightly
Cait's Creative Notebook
- Thread starter DarkWarrioress
- Start date
i have to say... i love this.... blushes slightly
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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- Posts
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She is... captivating, isn't she? I plan to use her for a thread if I can ever get the idea to fully materialize and written down.
CallmeLayla
Really Experienced
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- Jan 5, 2008
- Posts
- 198
I know I am late to the game... but this is just... well.. cool..... I love this...
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
- Posts
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Never too late, Lady. *smile* And so do I. I just don't know what I'm going to use it for yet but I'll think of something.
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
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Fish_Tales
Against the Current
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2011
- Posts
- 5,013
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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A key, caught up in the cobwebs of Time. Where does it belong? To whom does it belong? Was it lost or taken? More importantly, what does it open?
KrystalShip
Really Experienced
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- May 16, 2013
- Posts
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Well, I have to point out that, as a Whovian, and having enjoyed the last episode of Season 7 of Doctor Who, this looks amazingly like his timelines!!!
KrystalShip
Really Experienced
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- May 16, 2013
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A key, caught up in the cobwebs of Time. Where does it belong? To whom does it belong? Was it lost or taken? More importantly, what does it open?
DW, there are many, many ideas for a story in that one picture, that's for sure!
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
- Posts
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DW, there are many, many ideas for a story in that one picture, that's for sure!
There is, isn't there?
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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- Posts
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DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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- Posts
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DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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- Posts
- 25,447
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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- Posts
- 25,447
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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- Posts
- 25,447
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
- Posts
- 25,447
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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- Posts
- 25,447
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
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Two new threads started and added to my sig.
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
- Posts
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Going to do something with this, just not sure what yet.
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
- Posts
- 25,447
On the Edge of Eternity
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Stupidity, woman. It can get you killed. She was still giving herself hell for it. Her inattentiveness had gotten her wounded. A strip from her shirt that she had torn lay across her leg while she fumbled around with a packet from her pocket. Using her teeth, she ripped the foil open, not really being careful with the contents. The particles were sprinkled on her open arm wound. The laceration was deep. The son of a bitch who had cut her was trying to take her arm off apparently. Fuck, that shit hurt. She cradled her injured arm as she pressed back against the concrete wall, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. Her stomach roiled, bile filled her throat. Now was not the time to get sick. Sooty dark lashes closed over her eyes as she willed the contents of her stomach to subside. She knew she needed to get out of here. Her mouth formed a silent snarl and with some renewed strength, she bandaged her arm. Tying the makeshift bandage was a challenge with only one hand to do it with, but somehow, she had managed. Sort of. It would do. For now. Her tongue stroked against dry lips. Her right hand reached around to her back and she drew out a wicked looking blade. She would have preferred to use her Glock but it wasn’t feasible. Using the wall to brace herself, she got to her feet. Where were those son of a bitches? Her body went still as she listened, her head slightly tilted. Nothing. Well, that wasn’t a good sign. Cautiously, she inched around the corner. The corner of the wall splintered, sending small pieces of concrete flying. She swiftly ducked back behind the wall again, swearing up a blue streak and making up a few cuss words of her own. They had her pinned down. Assholes.....
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Stupidity, woman. It can get you killed. She was still giving herself hell for it. Her inattentiveness had gotten her wounded. A strip from her shirt that she had torn lay across her leg while she fumbled around with a packet from her pocket. Using her teeth, she ripped the foil open, not really being careful with the contents. The particles were sprinkled on her open arm wound. The laceration was deep. The son of a bitch who had cut her was trying to take her arm off apparently. Fuck, that shit hurt. She cradled her injured arm as she pressed back against the concrete wall, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. Her stomach roiled, bile filled her throat. Now was not the time to get sick. Sooty dark lashes closed over her eyes as she willed the contents of her stomach to subside. She knew she needed to get out of here. Her mouth formed a silent snarl and with some renewed strength, she bandaged her arm. Tying the makeshift bandage was a challenge with only one hand to do it with, but somehow, she had managed. Sort of. It would do. For now. Her tongue stroked against dry lips. Her right hand reached around to her back and she drew out a wicked looking blade. She would have preferred to use her Glock but it wasn’t feasible. Using the wall to brace herself, she got to her feet. Where were those son of a bitches? Her body went still as she listened, her head slightly tilted. Nothing. Well, that wasn’t a good sign. Cautiously, she inched around the corner. The corner of the wall splintered, sending small pieces of concrete flying. She swiftly ducked back behind the wall again, swearing up a blue streak and making up a few cuss words of her own. They had her pinned down. Assholes.....
Last edited:
darkwarrioress57
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2018
- Posts
- 527
A little something I was urged to write by my Muse. ~
The sun was just on the horizon. Its golden rays had barely touched the earth. They cast a golden soft glow on everything visible. The night was just starting to retreat, giving up her guardianship. The sky above was a weave of purples, reds, blues and oranges. The grass, newly sprung, was green and shifted lightly in the caress of a gentle breeze.
She stood in the middle of the Standing Stones by the alter. Her gown was diaphanous. Soft green with threads of gold shot throughout. Her hair was unbound and flowed over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts. She was waiting. For her lost love. Once a year he returned to her. They had one day and one night, by the next morning he would be gone again. She had eyes only for him. No earth bound man could ever catch her eye or her heart.
Her back was to him but she knew exactly when he was there. A smile touched her lips as she turned to greet him.
“Well Met, my love.” Her voice was just above a whisper, husky with her need of him.
He came toward her, walking at ease. As if they had all the time in the world. His arms hung loosely at his sides by his sword.
“Well Met, my love.”
His own voice was husky with need. His arms reached for her as he drew near. She stepped into them and felt his warmth spread over her. His arms encircled her, pulling her close to his body. His head lowered until their lips touched and blended. She felt herself melt against him, knowing she was safe and he would keep her from falling. His hands couldn’t remain still. They wandered over her form, familiarizing himself with her feminine gifts once more.
The world around them vanished. There were only two people, two hearts, in that circle of stones. He lifted her to the alter and laid her down there. Her hair fanned out on the stone. She held her arms out to him. Her eyes begged him to come to her. To lie his body over hers. Her breasts pushed against the material of her gown. Each nipple had hardened to pebbles, pushing against the gauzy material. As he lowered himself, his eyes sought them out. His head lowered until his mouth encompassed one, his tongue teasing until her gown grew wet and she moved restlessly on the stone resting place. He moved from one breast to the other. His knee parted her clad legs easily and he came up between them, resting on his knees. She moved to sit up but he stopped her.
“No, lie there.”
She retreated. Her eyes continued to beg him. It was request he ignored. He watched her face as his hands made short work of her gown, baring her to his eyes.
“Mine.” His voice was rough. Tender.
“Always yours,” was her reply.
His hands closed over her tender, aroused breasts and squeezed gently. He came over her, his head lowering again as his mouth found the side of her neck, lovingly kissing it. The moan that came from her throat was low, rough with longing. Her fingers found his back and dug in there. They pressed deeper into his skin as his mouth slowly moved down her neck, then sprinkled kisses along her collarbone. She pressed the damp curls between her thighs against his knee and rubbed herself impatiently there. He allowed this for a time, then captured her hands. His fingers closing over her delicate wrists and pulling her arms over her head. He moved his knee out of her reach. Her breasts brushed against his chest. His mouth moved from her collarbone down to her chest. He kissed his way between her twin globes. His kisses, his tongue branded her skin. Branded her soul. His tongue found one breast and drew a wet line under it, teasing her. She squirmed.
“Damn you,” she glared at him, hissing the words.
He laughed. Not at her, but in pleasure. Just before he lowered his mouth and sucked her nipple into the warmth of his mouth. Her body arched off the table. It stood suspended for a moment then fell back on the stone. His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, each time sucking the hard pebble of flesh deeper into his mouth. His hands released her wrists.
“Don’t move.”
His hands, rough from being what he was, slid slowly over her sides, relearning her body. She could feel his hardness against her but she knew he would not take her until he was ready to do so and it didn’t seem like he was ready to do so yet.
His fingertips traced down her sides, then over her ribcage to her soft belly. The latter quivered at his touch. She could feel the heat rise in her body. The tension that was building in her lower body. She wanted him. She wanted him now but he denied her. His fingertips slid up the inside of her legs and stopped short of her feminine mound. His knuckle grazed her. He could smell her arousal. She was wet. He spread her legs wide with his large hands. Exposing her to his eyes and the world that surrounded them. She was conscious only of him.
“You are so beautiful.”
He lowered his head and tasted her. One taste wasn’t enough for him. His tongue stroked her, drawing her wetness onto his tongue.
She squirmed, pressing her body upward toward his face. An urgent sound came from her throat as she bucked against his face. His hands came down on her hips, pressing her body back on the stone. His tongue continued to dwell in her body and when it retreated, he pressed it against her clit. He felt it and knew. A few more strokes of his tongue, then he stopped. She moaned in protest. He smiled. It was a smile that reached his eyes. Any darkness that resided there before he joined her had disappeared at her urgency. He lifted her legs, laying them on his chest. Her heels resting on either side of his head. He pressed forward, bending her at the knees. The head of his cock rubbed against her, easily parting her outer lips before slipping inward into her heat. Her body clenched him, her muscles pulled him deeper. They rippled over him, making him groan. Once more he repeated.
“Mine.”
His voice was rougher this time even as he pressed deeper into her body.
“Yes.”
Her reply was breathless. He started to move in her body, making her moan more. Her arms extended, her fingers gripping his lower arms. His face was inches from hers. His eyes intent. His desire for her blazing there.
“Love me,” she told him.
“I do. I will. Many times this day until we must part again.”
And he did. He loved her many times, in many ways. He left his seed buried deep in her body. Both hoping it would take root. For she only had him once a year, but his child she cared for, for much longer.
The Spring Equinox
The sun was just on the horizon. Its golden rays had barely touched the earth. They cast a golden soft glow on everything visible. The night was just starting to retreat, giving up her guardianship. The sky above was a weave of purples, reds, blues and oranges. The grass, newly sprung, was green and shifted lightly in the caress of a gentle breeze.
She stood in the middle of the Standing Stones by the alter. Her gown was diaphanous. Soft green with threads of gold shot throughout. Her hair was unbound and flowed over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts. She was waiting. For her lost love. Once a year he returned to her. They had one day and one night, by the next morning he would be gone again. She had eyes only for him. No earth bound man could ever catch her eye or her heart.
Her back was to him but she knew exactly when he was there. A smile touched her lips as she turned to greet him.
“Well Met, my love.” Her voice was just above a whisper, husky with her need of him.
He came toward her, walking at ease. As if they had all the time in the world. His arms hung loosely at his sides by his sword.
“Well Met, my love.”
His own voice was husky with need. His arms reached for her as he drew near. She stepped into them and felt his warmth spread over her. His arms encircled her, pulling her close to his body. His head lowered until their lips touched and blended. She felt herself melt against him, knowing she was safe and he would keep her from falling. His hands couldn’t remain still. They wandered over her form, familiarizing himself with her feminine gifts once more.
The world around them vanished. There were only two people, two hearts, in that circle of stones. He lifted her to the alter and laid her down there. Her hair fanned out on the stone. She held her arms out to him. Her eyes begged him to come to her. To lie his body over hers. Her breasts pushed against the material of her gown. Each nipple had hardened to pebbles, pushing against the gauzy material. As he lowered himself, his eyes sought them out. His head lowered until his mouth encompassed one, his tongue teasing until her gown grew wet and she moved restlessly on the stone resting place. He moved from one breast to the other. His knee parted her clad legs easily and he came up between them, resting on his knees. She moved to sit up but he stopped her.
“No, lie there.”
She retreated. Her eyes continued to beg him. It was request he ignored. He watched her face as his hands made short work of her gown, baring her to his eyes.
“Mine.” His voice was rough. Tender.
“Always yours,” was her reply.
His hands closed over her tender, aroused breasts and squeezed gently. He came over her, his head lowering again as his mouth found the side of her neck, lovingly kissing it. The moan that came from her throat was low, rough with longing. Her fingers found his back and dug in there. They pressed deeper into his skin as his mouth slowly moved down her neck, then sprinkled kisses along her collarbone. She pressed the damp curls between her thighs against his knee and rubbed herself impatiently there. He allowed this for a time, then captured her hands. His fingers closing over her delicate wrists and pulling her arms over her head. He moved his knee out of her reach. Her breasts brushed against his chest. His mouth moved from her collarbone down to her chest. He kissed his way between her twin globes. His kisses, his tongue branded her skin. Branded her soul. His tongue found one breast and drew a wet line under it, teasing her. She squirmed.
“Damn you,” she glared at him, hissing the words.
He laughed. Not at her, but in pleasure. Just before he lowered his mouth and sucked her nipple into the warmth of his mouth. Her body arched off the table. It stood suspended for a moment then fell back on the stone. His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, each time sucking the hard pebble of flesh deeper into his mouth. His hands released her wrists.
“Don’t move.”
His hands, rough from being what he was, slid slowly over her sides, relearning her body. She could feel his hardness against her but she knew he would not take her until he was ready to do so and it didn’t seem like he was ready to do so yet.
His fingertips traced down her sides, then over her ribcage to her soft belly. The latter quivered at his touch. She could feel the heat rise in her body. The tension that was building in her lower body. She wanted him. She wanted him now but he denied her. His fingertips slid up the inside of her legs and stopped short of her feminine mound. His knuckle grazed her. He could smell her arousal. She was wet. He spread her legs wide with his large hands. Exposing her to his eyes and the world that surrounded them. She was conscious only of him.
“You are so beautiful.”
He lowered his head and tasted her. One taste wasn’t enough for him. His tongue stroked her, drawing her wetness onto his tongue.
She squirmed, pressing her body upward toward his face. An urgent sound came from her throat as she bucked against his face. His hands came down on her hips, pressing her body back on the stone. His tongue continued to dwell in her body and when it retreated, he pressed it against her clit. He felt it and knew. A few more strokes of his tongue, then he stopped. She moaned in protest. He smiled. It was a smile that reached his eyes. Any darkness that resided there before he joined her had disappeared at her urgency. He lifted her legs, laying them on his chest. Her heels resting on either side of his head. He pressed forward, bending her at the knees. The head of his cock rubbed against her, easily parting her outer lips before slipping inward into her heat. Her body clenched him, her muscles pulled him deeper. They rippled over him, making him groan. Once more he repeated.
“Mine.”
His voice was rougher this time even as he pressed deeper into her body.
“Yes.”
Her reply was breathless. He started to move in her body, making her moan more. Her arms extended, her fingers gripping his lower arms. His face was inches from hers. His eyes intent. His desire for her blazing there.
“Love me,” she told him.
“I do. I will. Many times this day until we must part again.”
And he did. He loved her many times, in many ways. He left his seed buried deep in her body. Both hoping it would take root. For she only had him once a year, but his child she cared for, for much longer.
darkwarrioress57
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2018
- Posts
- 527
Pulling this out again....
Three months. Three damn, mosquito infested, damp months in the jungle. Shay Taggert stepped inside her tent, reaching behind her to pull the Glock 19 from it’s place of concealment and set it, holster and all on the table beside her bunk. Moving across the space toward a larger table that took up nearly one end of the tent and was littered with papers, Shay reached down to unstrap the Baretta from her thigh, setting it on some papers like a paperweight.
She was unbuttoning her fatigue shirt as she reached over to open the small solar powered, compact frig she kept in her tent and pulled out a cold beer. Normally, she didn’t care for beer unless it was Guinness but where the hell was a woman going to get Guinness in the jungle? She twisted the lid off the bottle and took a long drink. Maybe she could talk to Pedro. That guy could scrounge up anything.
Fuck. She glanced at her watch. It was 2220hrs and it was still humid and hot as Hades around here. The dark olive green t-shirt she wore under her fatigue shirt was soaked at the top with sweat. Shay shrugged out of the fatigue shirt, tossing it carelessly to the end of her bunk.
“Shay, got those---” he came striding into her tent with that damn low sexy voice of his just as she lifted the bottle to her lips again.
She was standing in profile to him as he entered, affording him the view of her taut breast, uplifted and pointed upward from the action of her tipping the bottle to her lips. She hastily lowered the bottle, swiping at her lips with the side of her forefinger. They stared at each other a moment. That moment was flagrantly charged with sexual tension. It had been like that for the last two months between them and getting stronger every day. She shifted uncomfortably, sliding her eyes away from his.
“Yeah, they’re right over here, hang on,” she turned, took a couple of steps, presenting him with an enticing view of her ass in the fatigue pants she was wearing as she leaned over the table that served as her desk. He let his eyes wander over the view, slowly.
She set the bottle down on the table, shuffled her sidearm, moved a few papers before she found the ones she wanted. She turned back, holding out the reports he wanted as she came toward him.
“Here you go. Santana and I checked on The Ridge. It’s a pretty damn good bet they’re not moving the drugs tonight.”
She watched him take the report and look it over. While he did, she moved to reach for her bottle of beer, taking a swig. She felt this need to do something with her hands all of a sudden. He glanced up.
“That looks pretty damn good,” he nodded toward the bottle she was holding. She glanced at the bottle then to him.
“Would you like one? I’ve got plenty. Sure does taste good on a humid night like tonight.”
She didn’t wait for him to reply, opening the frig, withdrawing two beers. She set her open one and a new one on top of the frig while she twisted off the cap of the third, moving to hand it to him.
“Here you go.” She held it out to him, startled to find his eyes on her.
The air got thick again. She swallowed and retreated the moment he relieved her fingers of the proffered chilled bottle. He shifted the papers into one hand, taking the beer. His eyes never left hers as he tipped it to his lips, drinking deeply. Her own eyes were glued to his hand, the bottle and then his lips. Her lips parted slightly, the tip of her tongue running along the edge of her upper teeth. His eyes darkened and a small low guttural growl emitted from his throat. The sound brought her eyes sharply back to his. She backed up a step as he slowly lowered the bottle and took an involuntary step toward her, then stopped. His eyes took their time meandering over her body. Her breath caught in her throat. When his eyes meet hers again, there was no mistaking the look in his eyes and what he wanted to do, right this moment.
“I better go,” His voice said he wanted to do everything, anything, but go. It snapped her out of her lethargy and she nodded.
‘Of course. I’ll be working on those other reports. I’ll get them to you as soon as I can,” she reached for her open bottle of beer.
Suddenly, her mouth felt dry. What she didn’t say was that it was deliberately going to be a few days before she got those reports to him. He turned sharply and left. As soon as he cleared the entrance, her shoulders visibly sagged with relief.
“What the fuck happened?” He was growling, his tone was vicious.
All four of them were crowded into Shay’s tent as Travers carried her in and laid her on the bunk.
“No, not the bed, Ben. I’ll bleed all over it.”
“Fuck the bed, Shay. Damn it. You’re bleeding here. Hello. We need to get it stopped.”
“Cut her out of the fucking shirt, Travers.”
“Give me just a second, Boss. Shit. Be real still, Shay. I don‘t want to cut you.”
Ben Travers got out his Ka-Bar and slid the tip into the opening left by the bullet that had struck her ribcage. If it had gone just an inch to her right, it would have torn through her heart. The Ka-bar slid across the material like butter. He pulled it off as soon as it got the buttons. He hurriedly unbuttoned her shirt flipping back the upper cut part to expose the blood-soaked t-shirt underneath. Again his knife worked across fabric and then went the hem of the t-shirt, slicing upward.
“Boss?” Ben looked at him, the tip of sharp steel poised over her bra.
“Cut it.”
The blade dipped and cut between her breasts. The material separated. Travers was urged out of the way, as Damien Cane took over. He probed her wound. Shay turned even paler and a moan of pain left her lips this time. She closed her eyes and squeezed the hell out of Santana’s hand.
“Went clean through. She was fucking lucky.”
Well. Duh. Tell her something she didn’t already know.
That was her last thought because whatever Damien Cane had poured into and over her wound, made her pass out.
A soft low groan. The rustle of paper. The small creak of a chair.
The groan came from her own throat. A hand moved toward the covered wound but another, much stronger, masculine, stopped it. Fingers wrapped around her wrist firmly, staying all motion of her hand.
“Don’t touch that, Taggert.”
His voice was gruff with emotion. Damien Cane. The Boss.
Of course it was. One of his team had been shot. She couldn’t blame him. There was a soft rustle of paper again. He guided her hand away from the wound. Her eye cracked open. Her lips parted to say something but no sound came out. She ran her tongue over her lips and tried again.
“How…”
She inhaled, swallowed, continued.
“How long?”
Funny, that didn’t sound like her. The voice was raspy, weak. Her hand was placed high on her chest. He was careful to avoid the wound to her ribs. He sat back in the chair.
“Three days.”
“What?!”
She struggled to push herself up on the pillows. She had barely moved when two palms pressed against her shoulders, pinning her to the bed. She couldn’t have fought him if she wanted to. Pain, bright and sharp, flooded through her being and made her pale and gasp.
“Taggert, don’t make me tie you to the bed because I will.”
She blinked, trying to bring her eyes into focus. Her stomach heaved, the room was spinning and whatever smart ass remark she was about to make, was never known because she passed out. Again.
The next time she surfaced it was to the feel of cool humid air on her abdomen, her shirt tucked close to her breasts and masculine knuckles brushing against the underside of one breast.
“If those knuckles linger any longer, I’m going to break your hand.”
Now, she sounded like herself again.
“Shay! You’re awake.”
It was Travers. She managed a grin.
“Hello, Captain Obvious. How long was I out this time?”
He finished taping her bandage and shrugged before he gently tugged down her shirt.
“Half a day would be my guess. “
“Where’s the Boss?”
Ben rolled his eyes.
“Where the Boss always is.”
“So, did you guys give the report?”
“Hell Shay, we not only gave it, we had to repeat the damn thing, twice.”
“Help me up will ya, Ben?”
She threw back the covers and went to swing her legs over the edge of the bed, pausing when she saw she had on a pair of her sweat pants. She hadn’t gone out on the mission in sweat pants. Her head swung sharply in Ben’s direction.
“Who put me in the sweat pants?”
Ben slipped his arm under hers and slowly, gently helped her to her feet.
“Who do you think? The Boss wasn’t letting any of us do it. Even if I did get to cut your shirt and bra off you.”
Travers grinned boyishly. Not one hint of apology was in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, that’s the only part of your fantasy coming true, Travers.”
Her elbow found his ribs. His only reply was a grunt as he rubbed his ribcage. Shay took a hesitant step or two, wobbled and stopped.
“You gonna need some help, Shay?”
She shook her head and waved him away.
“Naw, I got it. Get out of here. “
She watched Ben head for her door.
“Ben?”
“Yeah?”
He turned with the door slightly open.
“Thanks.”
For a moment he was serious and inclined his head.
“My pleasure. Santana and I are just sorry you got shot. We underestimated those guys.”
“We all underestimated them, Travers. I’m still breathing. We’ll get them next time.”
“Yeah. Yeah we will. Besides, one good thing came of it.”
“What’s that?” She asked softly.
“I got to see your boobs and they’re just as I imagined them to be.”
He didn’t get out of the door fast enough. The pillow hit him on the back of the head.
“Ow. Ow. Ow.”
It was worth it. The effort. And the pain. Butthead.
“We’ve had to stall until Shay healed properly but we should be back on track now. I don't have to tell you that, that last incident set us back, but I am anyway. I sent in Robles to do some fast talking and convince them that their men were just being jumpy and that we’re not too happy with the fact that they shot one of our own. We’re willing to let bygones be bygones but we’ve upped the ante. That shooting is going to cost them. They weren’t too happy that we killed all their men, but we’ve got the money and they want it.”
Shay leaned forward, wincing slightly as she reached for the beer bottle on the table. She had her knees drawn up in the chair, a couple of papers resting on her lap as Damien spoke. Their eyes met as he passed out another paper, holding briefly before his glance moved on to Travers. Her hand shook a little as she replaced the bottle on the table. It had nothing to do with her injury and everything to do with the boss. Damn him. She wasn’t sure how much longer either of them could keep up this cat and mouse game and all this pretending, oh, not with each other, but in front of the others. Whenever they found themselves alone together, which was real brief these days, the air between them was so thick you could cut it with a Ka-Bar.
God, she needed out of this damn jungle. She didn’t care where so long as there was civilization, good hot food and plenty of drink. She was getting tired of beer. For god’s sake, she hated beer. She’d even consider letting Travers cop a feel with both hands if he could produce a bottle of tequila. She glanced up from her perusal of the top paper in her lap and caught Damien’s eyes on her again. She absentmindedly swallowed and ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip. Big mistake. His eyes shifted to watch her tongue tip. She damn near squirmed in her chair when she saw his eyes darken. Even from where she sat, she couldn’t have missed it. Fuck. She glanced down at the paper on her lap again.
“Okay. So everyone knows what they’re doing.”
That hadn’t been phrased as a question.
“Meeting scheduled for 06:30 tomorrow. Get out of here. Make sure everything is up to speed and then the day is yours. I want you all sharp and fresh for the morning. “
“Shay?..... Shay? Hey. Earth to Shay.”
She glanced up. It took a moment to focus.
“Sorry. Yeah, Santana, what’s up?”
She got hastily to her feet, grasping the papers in one hand and her beer in the other.
“We’re headed over to the watering hole, wanna join us?”
The watering hole was a small place they found doing recon one day. Rocks, a small waterfall, a pool of water. It was a refreshing relief from the humidity. They usually took food and beer and lazed around, relaxing. She cut him a small smile.
“Sure thing. I’ll join you guys in a bit. I want to clean my rifle and the glock.”
“Hell, Shay I’m willing to bet they’re clean and well-oiled already. You, more than anyone else in camp, are the most diligent about their weapons.”
She laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as they left the tent together.
“You’re probably right but it never hurts to go over them just to be sure. I’ll meet you guys down by the Hole in an hour. Hell, I’ll even bring the beer.”
Entering her tent, she tossed the papers on her desk negligently. The beer bottle was upturned, drained and tossed in a waste basket. Walking over to a tall cabinet, she withdrew the rifle case.
~To be continued~
~Jungle Heat~
Three months. Three damn, mosquito infested, damp months in the jungle. Shay Taggert stepped inside her tent, reaching behind her to pull the Glock 19 from it’s place of concealment and set it, holster and all on the table beside her bunk. Moving across the space toward a larger table that took up nearly one end of the tent and was littered with papers, Shay reached down to unstrap the Baretta from her thigh, setting it on some papers like a paperweight.
She was unbuttoning her fatigue shirt as she reached over to open the small solar powered, compact frig she kept in her tent and pulled out a cold beer. Normally, she didn’t care for beer unless it was Guinness but where the hell was a woman going to get Guinness in the jungle? She twisted the lid off the bottle and took a long drink. Maybe she could talk to Pedro. That guy could scrounge up anything.
Fuck. She glanced at her watch. It was 2220hrs and it was still humid and hot as Hades around here. The dark olive green t-shirt she wore under her fatigue shirt was soaked at the top with sweat. Shay shrugged out of the fatigue shirt, tossing it carelessly to the end of her bunk.
“Shay, got those---” he came striding into her tent with that damn low sexy voice of his just as she lifted the bottle to her lips again.
She was standing in profile to him as he entered, affording him the view of her taut breast, uplifted and pointed upward from the action of her tipping the bottle to her lips. She hastily lowered the bottle, swiping at her lips with the side of her forefinger. They stared at each other a moment. That moment was flagrantly charged with sexual tension. It had been like that for the last two months between them and getting stronger every day. She shifted uncomfortably, sliding her eyes away from his.
“Yeah, they’re right over here, hang on,” she turned, took a couple of steps, presenting him with an enticing view of her ass in the fatigue pants she was wearing as she leaned over the table that served as her desk. He let his eyes wander over the view, slowly.
She set the bottle down on the table, shuffled her sidearm, moved a few papers before she found the ones she wanted. She turned back, holding out the reports he wanted as she came toward him.
“Here you go. Santana and I checked on The Ridge. It’s a pretty damn good bet they’re not moving the drugs tonight.”
She watched him take the report and look it over. While he did, she moved to reach for her bottle of beer, taking a swig. She felt this need to do something with her hands all of a sudden. He glanced up.
“That looks pretty damn good,” he nodded toward the bottle she was holding. She glanced at the bottle then to him.
“Would you like one? I’ve got plenty. Sure does taste good on a humid night like tonight.”
She didn’t wait for him to reply, opening the frig, withdrawing two beers. She set her open one and a new one on top of the frig while she twisted off the cap of the third, moving to hand it to him.
“Here you go.” She held it out to him, startled to find his eyes on her.
The air got thick again. She swallowed and retreated the moment he relieved her fingers of the proffered chilled bottle. He shifted the papers into one hand, taking the beer. His eyes never left hers as he tipped it to his lips, drinking deeply. Her own eyes were glued to his hand, the bottle and then his lips. Her lips parted slightly, the tip of her tongue running along the edge of her upper teeth. His eyes darkened and a small low guttural growl emitted from his throat. The sound brought her eyes sharply back to his. She backed up a step as he slowly lowered the bottle and took an involuntary step toward her, then stopped. His eyes took their time meandering over her body. Her breath caught in her throat. When his eyes meet hers again, there was no mistaking the look in his eyes and what he wanted to do, right this moment.
“I better go,” His voice said he wanted to do everything, anything, but go. It snapped her out of her lethargy and she nodded.
‘Of course. I’ll be working on those other reports. I’ll get them to you as soon as I can,” she reached for her open bottle of beer.
Suddenly, her mouth felt dry. What she didn’t say was that it was deliberately going to be a few days before she got those reports to him. He turned sharply and left. As soon as he cleared the entrance, her shoulders visibly sagged with relief.
~One month later~
“What the fuck happened?” He was growling, his tone was vicious.
All four of them were crowded into Shay’s tent as Travers carried her in and laid her on the bunk.
“No, not the bed, Ben. I’ll bleed all over it.”
“Fuck the bed, Shay. Damn it. You’re bleeding here. Hello. We need to get it stopped.”
“Cut her out of the fucking shirt, Travers.”
“Give me just a second, Boss. Shit. Be real still, Shay. I don‘t want to cut you.”
Ben Travers got out his Ka-Bar and slid the tip into the opening left by the bullet that had struck her ribcage. If it had gone just an inch to her right, it would have torn through her heart. The Ka-bar slid across the material like butter. He pulled it off as soon as it got the buttons. He hurriedly unbuttoned her shirt flipping back the upper cut part to expose the blood-soaked t-shirt underneath. Again his knife worked across fabric and then went the hem of the t-shirt, slicing upward.
“Boss?” Ben looked at him, the tip of sharp steel poised over her bra.
“Cut it.”
The blade dipped and cut between her breasts. The material separated. Travers was urged out of the way, as Damien Cane took over. He probed her wound. Shay turned even paler and a moan of pain left her lips this time. She closed her eyes and squeezed the hell out of Santana’s hand.
“Went clean through. She was fucking lucky.”
Well. Duh. Tell her something she didn’t already know.
That was her last thought because whatever Damien Cane had poured into and over her wound, made her pass out.
~~ 0 ~~
A soft low groan. The rustle of paper. The small creak of a chair.
The groan came from her own throat. A hand moved toward the covered wound but another, much stronger, masculine, stopped it. Fingers wrapped around her wrist firmly, staying all motion of her hand.
“Don’t touch that, Taggert.”
His voice was gruff with emotion. Damien Cane. The Boss.
Of course it was. One of his team had been shot. She couldn’t blame him. There was a soft rustle of paper again. He guided her hand away from the wound. Her eye cracked open. Her lips parted to say something but no sound came out. She ran her tongue over her lips and tried again.
“How…”
She inhaled, swallowed, continued.
“How long?”
Funny, that didn’t sound like her. The voice was raspy, weak. Her hand was placed high on her chest. He was careful to avoid the wound to her ribs. He sat back in the chair.
“Three days.”
“What?!”
She struggled to push herself up on the pillows. She had barely moved when two palms pressed against her shoulders, pinning her to the bed. She couldn’t have fought him if she wanted to. Pain, bright and sharp, flooded through her being and made her pale and gasp.
“Taggert, don’t make me tie you to the bed because I will.”
She blinked, trying to bring her eyes into focus. Her stomach heaved, the room was spinning and whatever smart ass remark she was about to make, was never known because she passed out. Again.
The next time she surfaced it was to the feel of cool humid air on her abdomen, her shirt tucked close to her breasts and masculine knuckles brushing against the underside of one breast.
“If those knuckles linger any longer, I’m going to break your hand.”
Now, she sounded like herself again.
“Shay! You’re awake.”
It was Travers. She managed a grin.
“Hello, Captain Obvious. How long was I out this time?”
He finished taping her bandage and shrugged before he gently tugged down her shirt.
“Half a day would be my guess. “
“Where’s the Boss?”
Ben rolled his eyes.
“Where the Boss always is.”
“So, did you guys give the report?”
“Hell Shay, we not only gave it, we had to repeat the damn thing, twice.”
“Help me up will ya, Ben?”
She threw back the covers and went to swing her legs over the edge of the bed, pausing when she saw she had on a pair of her sweat pants. She hadn’t gone out on the mission in sweat pants. Her head swung sharply in Ben’s direction.
“Who put me in the sweat pants?”
Ben slipped his arm under hers and slowly, gently helped her to her feet.
“Who do you think? The Boss wasn’t letting any of us do it. Even if I did get to cut your shirt and bra off you.”
Travers grinned boyishly. Not one hint of apology was in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, that’s the only part of your fantasy coming true, Travers.”
Her elbow found his ribs. His only reply was a grunt as he rubbed his ribcage. Shay took a hesitant step or two, wobbled and stopped.
“You gonna need some help, Shay?”
She shook her head and waved him away.
“Naw, I got it. Get out of here. “
She watched Ben head for her door.
“Ben?”
“Yeah?”
He turned with the door slightly open.
“Thanks.”
For a moment he was serious and inclined his head.
“My pleasure. Santana and I are just sorry you got shot. We underestimated those guys.”
“We all underestimated them, Travers. I’m still breathing. We’ll get them next time.”
“Yeah. Yeah we will. Besides, one good thing came of it.”
“What’s that?” She asked softly.
“I got to see your boobs and they’re just as I imagined them to be.”
He didn’t get out of the door fast enough. The pillow hit him on the back of the head.
“Ow. Ow. Ow.”
It was worth it. The effort. And the pain. Butthead.
~~ 0 ~~
“We’ve had to stall until Shay healed properly but we should be back on track now. I don't have to tell you that, that last incident set us back, but I am anyway. I sent in Robles to do some fast talking and convince them that their men were just being jumpy and that we’re not too happy with the fact that they shot one of our own. We’re willing to let bygones be bygones but we’ve upped the ante. That shooting is going to cost them. They weren’t too happy that we killed all their men, but we’ve got the money and they want it.”
Shay leaned forward, wincing slightly as she reached for the beer bottle on the table. She had her knees drawn up in the chair, a couple of papers resting on her lap as Damien spoke. Their eyes met as he passed out another paper, holding briefly before his glance moved on to Travers. Her hand shook a little as she replaced the bottle on the table. It had nothing to do with her injury and everything to do with the boss. Damn him. She wasn’t sure how much longer either of them could keep up this cat and mouse game and all this pretending, oh, not with each other, but in front of the others. Whenever they found themselves alone together, which was real brief these days, the air between them was so thick you could cut it with a Ka-Bar.
God, she needed out of this damn jungle. She didn’t care where so long as there was civilization, good hot food and plenty of drink. She was getting tired of beer. For god’s sake, she hated beer. She’d even consider letting Travers cop a feel with both hands if he could produce a bottle of tequila. She glanced up from her perusal of the top paper in her lap and caught Damien’s eyes on her again. She absentmindedly swallowed and ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip. Big mistake. His eyes shifted to watch her tongue tip. She damn near squirmed in her chair when she saw his eyes darken. Even from where she sat, she couldn’t have missed it. Fuck. She glanced down at the paper on her lap again.
“Okay. So everyone knows what they’re doing.”
That hadn’t been phrased as a question.
“Meeting scheduled for 06:30 tomorrow. Get out of here. Make sure everything is up to speed and then the day is yours. I want you all sharp and fresh for the morning. “
“Shay?..... Shay? Hey. Earth to Shay.”
She glanced up. It took a moment to focus.
“Sorry. Yeah, Santana, what’s up?”
She got hastily to her feet, grasping the papers in one hand and her beer in the other.
“We’re headed over to the watering hole, wanna join us?”
The watering hole was a small place they found doing recon one day. Rocks, a small waterfall, a pool of water. It was a refreshing relief from the humidity. They usually took food and beer and lazed around, relaxing. She cut him a small smile.
“Sure thing. I’ll join you guys in a bit. I want to clean my rifle and the glock.”
“Hell, Shay I’m willing to bet they’re clean and well-oiled already. You, more than anyone else in camp, are the most diligent about their weapons.”
She laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as they left the tent together.
“You’re probably right but it never hurts to go over them just to be sure. I’ll meet you guys down by the Hole in an hour. Hell, I’ll even bring the beer.”
Entering her tent, she tossed the papers on her desk negligently. The beer bottle was upturned, drained and tossed in a waste basket. Walking over to a tall cabinet, she withdrew the rifle case.
~To be continued~
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
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AmbrosiaCaress
Phoenix Rising!!!
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2005
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DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
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- 25,447
Oooo. Thank you, hun.
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