Saint by Zoe Dawson

9

Saint was backat the blind before the bodies he had left in the woods were cold. He watched the kids and Aella, on guard, their eyes darting and moving around the area. Aella was standing amongst them like a mama bear. Why the hell was he thinking about her in maternal terms again? Damn. She wasn’t going to be the mother of his children. She had other plans. She had every right to make her job a priority. Hell, he did. He was just selfish enough to want a woman he could depend on to take on all the domestic chores he couldn’t when he was working, training, or deployed.

His mind set was just as much a barrier as hers. Something he had to wrap his head around and accept.

They might mesh everywhere else, and there was a burning attraction, but what they ultimately wanted threw cold water on that fire, leaving only smoldering embers. He sighed.

He’d come here to rescue her, not get tangled up again in this never-ending thought process.

He rose and said softly, “Aella, coming in.”

She heaved a heavy sigh, but her eyes widened when she met his gaze. The girls looked scared and huddled together. “What the hell?”

“Blood,” Aella said. “Maybe you should go wash that off?”

He looked down at himself, his hands and nodded. As the team’s medic, he’d long since gotten used to seeing blood on his hands.

He went to his pack and grabbed a clean t-shirt and towel along with soap to remove the camo paint from his face and the blood from his pants.

As he passed her, he touched her arm and squeezed. “We’re good. Do you know how to prepare MREs?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Go ahead and get them something solid to eat. You all must be starving.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine. It’s more important that you all eat. I’ll scrounge up something when I get back.”

Uba wrapped her arms around his leg and held on. He sent his hand over her head. “It’s all right, sugar. You’re safe. The bad men won’t hurt you.”

She just hung on, her little shoulders shaking. Clenching his jaw hard until it was aching, he experienced a hollow feeling in his gut. Little kids shouldn’t have to live like this. This was only a handful of children, girls. He knew the boys suffered too. Along with losing their families, they were conscripted into a never-ending war that was only perpetuated by them turning into animals by the time they were grown and adding to the unrest and instability of the country. The only times he’d been in this beleaguered country had been for military actions.

This little girl was breaking his heart. He rubbed her head, unwilling to gather her against him with all this blood on him. It would be…obscene to wash her small body in the violence he’d committed, even if it was to save her.

“Come on, sweetie,” Aella said softly, gathering her into her arms. “We’ll get you something hot to eat. It’ll be yummy.”

Trying to stay detached from the emotions rolling inside him, he turned away and started for the river, but before he’d gone a few steps, he felt a tug on his arm. He turned back to find Yasmiin standing there. She let go of him as soon as she had his attention.

“There is no regret or shame in what you have done. There is only survival and what we must do to stay alive. They are the monsters,” she said vehemently. “This isn’t everything our country is. My village is beautiful and prosperous. We work hard to make a decent and fair living, but how can you not fight against oppression, depravity, and starvation? You must. You are a man of justice. I can see that. We are only lucky that we were put into a cell with an American. Thank you for all that you have done.”

She stepped back when Aella called her name, her eyes pits of dark, sweet chocolate. She bolstered him, and he was once again surprised at what he learned on every mission. Always something profound, but this time it was out of the mouth of babes.

He smiled and turned away when she did. In moments he reached the edge of the river, stripped down and crouched at the edge. With the soap he washed the blood out of the t-shirt, then the waistband of his pants.

Then he rose and waded into the water up to his waist and dipped in with the soap in his hands, lathering it up. He tucked the bar under his armpit and scrubbed at his face for a full minute to get the greasy paint off, then rinsed thoroughly.

Then he got to washing the rest of him, making sure the visible blood was washed off. Maybe not clean as the blood he had shed, even for the cause of justice, was still splashed on him, maybe not exactly as a red badge of courage, but a reminder that he protected real people in real time with blood, sweat, and tears.

No amount of pain or suffering of conscience would deter him from that sacred mission.

He was one of Uncle Sam’s, but he fought for the people of the land of the free.

* * *

Aella stoodthere watching him through the trees. She’d left the girls happily eating, Yasmiin in charge. He’d looked…upset when he’d left, and she couldn’t control the urge she had to want to hold him. God, she’d missed him so much.

His back was facing her as she leaned against the truck of a large tree. The sun glinted off his tanned, muscled shoulders and back, the water droplets on his upper body shimmering with every move he made. His rakishly long hair was slicked back, the ends curling damply around the nape of his neck. He was sex and sin personified, the complete embodiment of a gorgeous, tough male in his element.

“He is a very well-formed man,” Yasmiin said from behind her. Aella whirled and frowned.

“Yasmiin! What are you doing here?”

“Curiosity,” she admitted with a soft smile. “Warsame might be a monster, but he is a handsome man, also well-formed. He would have made a terrible husband but might have been a good lover.” She shrugged. “You have been lovers, yes?”

Aella let out a hard breath and leaned back against the tree.

“That really isn’t any of your business. It appalls me that you even think about a man in terms of—”

“Copulation?” she scoffed, the sound harsh. “Please. We have no secrets in our village. We are well aware of what a man and woman do to produce a family. Except my country has perverted that into kidnapping and forced marriage. I must be educated about these things to be able to understand them and how they can happen to me, to my friends.” She lifted her arm and pointed behind her with her thumb. “Uba doesn’t understand. She is much too young, but the rest of them do. We were saved from our fate by you and Saint. We are eternally grateful.”

She reached out and touched Aella’s shoulder, squeezing. “If you find love, the real kind, that is all that matters. Everything else can be worked out. You have some quiet time with your man. I will make sure the children are occupied.” She gave Aella a quick, mischievous smile before she left.

Aella shook her head, still overcome by Yasmiin’s wisdom. The girl had it in spades beyond her years. Fifteen going on thirty. Warsame was a fool if he thought this girl would go quietly. He would have been in for quite a fight of his life if he had gotten his way. Aella closed her eyes and vowed he wouldn’t have another opportunity. She would…she and Saint would make sure of that.

Speaking of Saint. Where was he? She turned back around and sighed at the sight of him.

It was a perfect backdrop for the man she knew, the craggy rocks, the trees and brush all around him. He always seemed untamed to her. He turned around, his eyes searching into the trees. His mouth kicked up, then widened into one of his trademark grins that melted her bones.

He didn’t acknowledge her even though he knew she was there. Her eyes flowed over him, his thick biceps, defined chest and lean belly, the way the water lapped around his hips. She took in his handsome face, the powerful cut of his jaw and beautiful mouth that had given her such incredible pleasure.

A roll of thunder shook the gray sky, and a heavy gust tripped across the water and shook the foliage. He looked up at the sky.

He was finished with his bath, and he started wading out of the river. As the liquid receded, her mouth watered. His entire body vibrated with aggression, like a high voltage wire waiting to snap. She guessed it was the adrenaline that had pumped him up.

She came out of the trees as he cleared the river, his thick, hard erection jutting from his body, his sleek thighs with hard packed muscle mirrored his six-pack abs.

Yasmiin had been right. He was a well-formed man.

She met his eyes and felt a sudden shift between them. Her pulse leapt, and she realized that this was crazy. But maybe a few minutes with Saint would take off the edge and allow both of them to focus. Saint had a way of looking into her, making her feel vulnerable. Those seductive blue eyes of his were intense and searching. It was as if he needed…something. The rain found them then. Large fat drops fell, sporadically at first, then gradually increased to a heavy deluge that soaked right through her hair and clothes.

“Aella…this is crazy. We don’t have time—”

“How about we make time. It’s been so long, Zach,” she whispered.

In a lightning-quick move, he lunged at her, buried his fingers in her hair, and pressed her up against the nearest tree with his hard, undeniably aroused body. It had long, thick branches and dense leaves, the overhead canopy protecting them from the worst of the storm. With a low growl encompassing both frustration and urgent need, he slanted his mouth across hers and sank his tongue deep, kissing her just as recklessly as he had before. His mouth promised sin and unrestrained, carnal pleasure, and she matched him stroke for stroke, chasing his tongue with her own, letting him know she was with him all the way.

The feverish intensity between them sizzled hot, the strength and immediacy of her arousal making her knees jellify. She slid her arms around his waist and skimmed her hands down to cup his damp butt. The muscles tightened under her palms, and the long, hard length of him pushed insistently against the crux of her thighs.

His kisses now mindless, he needed this so much more than she did. Just having him like this, so hot for her was more than she could handle.

Her hand slid down between his legs, and she cupped his balls, playing with him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.

She’d had no idea how much she’d wanted his distinct taste until just this moment. This man did things to her that she couldn’t block or forget.

Kiss by soft, wet kiss, she worked her way down his body. She captured one of his rigid nipples between her lips, laving the erect nub with her tongue, grazed the tip with the edge of her teeth, then licked him again. A groan rumbled up from his chest as she traversed her way lower, spreading hot, wet kisses on his taut, flat belly and heard him suck in a breath in response. She worked him over until she came to his thick, straining erection, and even that part of him was as gorgeous and magnificent as the man himself.

She wrapped her fingers around the hard, velvet-textured length of him and felt him pulse in her tight grip.

He was hers.

She took him in her wet mouth, his skin hot and salty against the stroke of her tongue. He shuddered and tangled his hands in her damp hair, and she sucked him, taking him as deep as she could, making it as good as she could. She pleasured him with her mouth, teased him with her tongue, and aroused him to a fever pitch of need that made his entire body shake with the restraint, with the pleasure.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re killing me, sugar.”

Leaned back against the tree, he thrust his hips forward, his hand gently cupping the back of her head. He thrust again, and she took more of him. Again, and he went even deeper.

“Fuck me,” he said hoarsely.

She had every intention of getting him someplace where she could do exactly that, but it wasn’t here. She kept at it, taking him higher, winding him up tighter with her hands and mouth, until inevitably, irresistibly, she took him to climax.

Braced against the tree, he went rigid, the soft male sound of pleasure making her liquid and hot. His muscles flexed and strained, his cock so hard inside the softness of her mouth until he let go of all that sexy, male power.

She held him where he stood, until he was finished. When she released him, he bent his knees and slid down to be with her on the wet sand. Gathering her up in his arms, he took her mouth in a deep kiss. His flattened hand slid between her pants and belly, moving downward. She sucked in a quick breath, and her heart raced in anticipation as his hand slid between her thighs. His fingers skimmed along the leg opening of her panties, and then they were edging under it, delving through her damp curls and gliding along the soft, swollen flesh of her sex.

He stroked her sensuously, fingering her with slow, intimate swirls right where she needed his touch the most, both soothing and arousing at the same time. As soon as she relaxed, he pushed deeper, filling her, and her inner muscles clamped tight around his thrusting fingers. Her head rolled back against his shoulder, and she panted for air, aching to have him inside her.

His big body shuddered, and he buried his face against her neck, his ragged breath hot and damp against her skin.

“So sweet, so wet, so fucking tight,” he rasped in her ear. “I want my mouth on you, but it’s too risky.”

She looked up at him through dazed eyes, the light in the blue depths possessive and bright with desire. Her skin tingled everywhere, hot and alive with sensation. She twined her fingers in his soft, thick hair, feeling breathless and dizzy and unable to do anything but hold on, let him have his way with her body and give in to the need that six months without his touch had built in her.

She moaned against his velvet lips, his mouth taking hers again, hot, hungry and demanding. Pressing his thumb against her core, he flicked it and rubbed it while he fucked her hard with his fingers. Her breathing quickened as he continued to share darker, sexier words with her until her mind and body couldn’t take any more stimulation and she came on a long, intense orgasm that ripped a hoarse, muffled cry against his mouth.

He held her through the afterglow, then moved away, and she immediately missed his warmth and weight. She heard him moving around and splashing a bit in the water, then silence descended, except for the swish of cloth. It took her a few moments to recover enough to turn over to see what he was doing. He wasn’t far away, and that was a good thing. God, she wanted him all over again.

* * *

Saint crouched downto tie up his boots. His groin still pulsed, and he glanced over at Aella, remembering the white-hot sensation of her mouth jolting through him. It had been so intense, he had barely remembered to breathe.

The flimsy fabric covering her was light and gauzy, and he could see her bra, the tight, rosy nipples straining against her top. The wet fabric clung to her luscious breasts and outlined her curves like a second skin, and all he could think about was how soft and lush the rest of her body was beneath those clothes.

Amusement shimmered in her gaze, and a drop of water dripped from her cute nose. “Looks like I’m all wet…again.”

He groaned.

She grinned at him, her pink lips glistening from the rain. “If I’ve got to get wet, I’d rather it be with you.”

She was still teasing him, but there was a layer of meaning beneath her words. She truly appreciated being with him, no matter the cause or reason.

“You’re killing me, woman, but I agree. I’d rather it be me with you.”

He rose and gathered up the washed t-shirt, soap and towel. He walked over to her and offered his hand. She grasped it and he pulled her up right against his chest. “We should get back to the girls. Make sure they’re all right.” He also wanted to try to reach Fast Lane again now that the chopper’s jamming array was gone.

“They are. Really,” she said, sliding her hand along his jaw. “But you’ve got to be hungry.”

“I was.” It was his turn to grin as he bumped her hip.

“It wasn’t enough,” she said, her face going soft, her palm rubbing over his stubble as if she liked the scratchy feel of it against her palm.

“No. It wasn’t but it will have to do.” She shivered when his fingers tangled through the hair at the back of her neck as he gently tugged her head back, so their gazes met once more, and their lips were mere inches apart. There was something strangely exciting about being at this woman’s mercy. He wanted her with a fierce, powerful kind of need he’d never experienced since he’d met her.

With her mouth poised so close to his, she asked with a cautious tone, “Have to do?”

“For now,” he said gruffly, and took her mouth, then he broke the kiss and sent her toward the trail. “Get going, woman, before I lose my damn mind again.”

She gave him a look of retribution as he slapped her butt.

“Geez, you’re bossy.”

“Get going, sugar. No more sass.”

He reattached his headset and keyed his comm. “LT, what is your status?” he asked as she took off down the trail, and he started after her. He thought about racing her, but he hadn’t anticipated how drained he was from the unexpected and arousing climax she’d given him, and besides, he was enjoying the very stimulating view from right where he was.

“Good copy. Good to hear from you.”

The tension went out of his shoulders when he heard Fast Lane’s voice. “Bastards jammed my radio signal. We’re secure. Threat neutralized for the time being. What is your status?”

“We’ve discovered possible survivors from the airport attack.” Fast Lane’s breathing was strained from running. “Jugs is on the scent. Will keep you posted.”

“Copy that. We should hang tight?”

“Affirmative. For the time being. If you have to move, do so. If you don’t hear from us or something else goes FUBAR, bug out and we’ll rendezvous at the Baidoa military base.”

“Copy that,” Saint said as they followed the path back to the girls. Saint erased their passing with a broken branch. Omar’s son had to be getting pretty frustrated by now and that tended to make people reckless. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

He certainly hoped whoever his LT was chasing were still alive.

When they made camp, Yasmiin was there on guard with his gun. She lowered it as they entered, setting the safety. She beamed at the pile of food on a leaf palette.

“Food we gathered. It will help, yes?”

“Very much,” Aella said with a smile and a hug for each of the girls. “You guys did good.”

While Aella and the girls sat down to catalogue the food, Saint dug out his hook and fishing line and walked down to the river. He fished while he searched for the appropriate material he needed. He harvested a stock of bamboo and several clumps of dried grasses. With his knife he carved on the bamboo until he got the effect he wanted, then worked on several more wood pieces, until he had a string of fish and his creations. He then set the carvings into a bag he took from his ruck.

When he got back to the girls, Aella was getting them cleaned up and braiding their hair. Saint dropped the fish, and the girls eyed the catch then each other. Nomads around here didn’t usually care for fish, but it would be a good source of protein they would need once they started trekking to the girls’ home village or the military base.

He intended to make an oven out of the soil to cook the fish without the visible signs of a fire. He needed to start that process soon so any smoke would be obscured by the overcast day.

He knelt down next to Uba and pulled out what he had created for her. She squealed and reached for it with her small pudgy hands.

“My dolly! You made me a dolly!” Uba hugged the gift to her chest and looked at him, her eyes wide with awe, as if she’d just been handed the world. She launched herself at him, holding the doll in one hand as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. “Thank you.” She pulled away and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek, slightly moist, but completely wonderful.

“You deserved it, Uba. You’ve been so brave. What are you going to name her?”

“Gacaliso.” She beamed at him.

“It means sweetheart,” Yasmiin said with a big grin.

“That’s beautiful, Uba.” He met Aella’s eyes, her solemn expression altered, changing to a heart-stopping look that made Saint’s heart roll over.

Uba nodded and hugged the crude doll to her, the joy on her face infectious.

Saint pulled another carving out of the bag. It was fixed with braided grass to form a necklace. He slipped the carving over Yasmiin’s head.

“What is this?” Yasmiin asked as she fingered the wood.

“It’s a trident. It’s the SEALs’ pin, a symbol of our dedication to our country and duty as warriors.”

“A warrior’s emblem,” she said in a hushed voice. She looked up and stared at him with the unwavering intentness of a child, then her chest puffed out and her shoulders squared. “I’m honored.” She saluted him, and he pulled her into a hard embrace.

She hugged him back. He repeated the ritual with each of the other girls, giving them carved animal necklaces to reinforce them for the coming battle to get them all safely back to their village.

“Now let me show you how to skin fish and cook it.”

She wrinkled up her nose and the other girls gave him dubious looks, some making “eww” noises. He laughed softly. “It’ll be good. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Several hours passed as he heated the rocks in a modest fire, doused it once they were red hot, then baked the fish.

He felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and he turned to see it was Aella. He rose from his crouched position near the hot mound.

“That smells really good,” she said. He nodded, loving the warm glimmer in her eyes. “You are a good man.” Cupping his jaw, she stretched up and kissed him. Drawing away, he released a long sigh and smoothed his hand across her hip. “Bolstering those girls with nothing but bamboo, wood and grasses…I don’t have the words to express how amazing you are.”

“It’s all in the meaning, babe.”

She squeezed his nape, leaned over and kissed him, making him feel almost indestructible. He would get them all to safety or die trying.