In His Command by Rie Warren Read Free Book Online

droning anxiety deafening me was that it had been a bunker built when the defunct United States was embroiled in a Cold War.
    Things were about to heat up.
    Blondie relaxed like he was prepping for a vacation while the details were hashed out about how I was going to guide him. Alone. He even stretched out on top of the sofa and linked his hands behind his head so his shirt and jacket strained over his chest.
    This smelled like a case of crotch rot and total setup. In fact, the whole situation was ludicrous, including the one rising in my pants because being pissed off made me horny, obviously, and he wasn’t helping with that highly unprofessional slow lip lick of his.
    As if I didn’t have enough worries, I planted my size-fourteen boot in it. “With all due respect, this mission is bogus. I have command of my infantry. Here.”
    “Are you implying you have no faith in your second, Lieutenant Grant?”
    Right. The motherfucker made it look like I questioned Liz, putting her in jeopardy. “No, sir. She is completely capable of leading our company.”
    “Then you will complete your assignment to rendezvous at the Outpost where the leaders are convening to regain control of the Territories. Meanwhile, the remaining infantry will quell the uprising…or level the city.”
    Did I say mother fuck?
    “I’ll leave you to formulate plans. Make full use of the maps.” Cutler rose to his feet, gripping my hand. “Your transport will be readied by twelve hundred tomorrow.”
    I thrust my contaminated palm into my pocket when he sent back, “I trust you’ll be fully armed, Commander.”
    He had no idea.
    The door closed behind him.
    I pulled out maps, pinning the location of the place. Isolated, its position couldn’t have been worse. What should’ve been a straight two-week shot north looked like a freaking mine had exploded all over the landscape. Checking measurements, I reckoned hundreds of meters of inhospitable vegetation in every direction stood between me and the Brier. What an apt name.
    After adjusting the guidance system on my D-P, I approached the slit of a window overlooking the Quad walls and wished I hadn’t. Reeling back from the volcanic fountains of artillery, smoke, and fire outside, I hit a solid wall of male body. Blondie’s scent drifted over me.
    “Not gonna talk to me, then?”
    I swiveled around. “Not into chitchat.”
    “You were pretty chatty a few hours ago.” A lean smile pursing his cocksucking lips, he looked me over. “Four weeks is a long time, you know?” He’d dropped his Company-composed veneer, becoming the fantasy man I’d fist-banged in my shower.
    “Got nothing to say to you.”
    His hands whispered to my shoulders, sending thrills through my body. “Had a lot to tell me earlier, Cannon.” He tugged my earlobe, his teeth biting, his lips healing.
    “Is this foreplay or foul play?”
    “Gettin’ to ya, am I?”
    Peering at the high corners of the room where I guessed one, if not two or three, recording devices spied on us, I hissed, “Why don’t you keep your hands to yourself. Eyes and ears, asshole.”
    “Got the cameras on loop.” His fingertips brushed the back of my neck.
    I shoved him off. “You’re a cunt’s hair from getting your head shot off—”
    “Don’t I know it.” He watched the crotch of my fatigues stretch to obscene proportions.
    “The head on top of your neck, Rice.”
    “How about a name?”
    “Commander Cannon.”
    He cajoled, “Given name?”
    “Caspar.”
    “Commander Caspar Cannon.” The way he said it made me want to throw him over the desk, rip his pants off, and sink into that rosy bud of his. Immediately.
    He knew it too.
    “A soldier.”
    “Correct.”
    His prowl toward me had my breath trapped in my windpipe, my mind scrambling for even footing.
    I did not fucking swoon.
    I crossed my arms over my chest, ignoring the fatal thud of my heart. “You gonna capitulate? Because I’m not calling you ‘sir.’”
    “That