Jordan had always kept an open mind when it came to the BDSM Lifestyle, especially when choosing a suitable Dominant. Maybe that was the reason why she hadn’t committed to a permanent relationship with anyone over the years.
She was after a true Dom, one who was well suited to her particular submissive nature; one who didn’t just take control and order her around. She wanted to be sexually dominated, not bullied. Brock had proven he had the qualities she was looking for; respectful with a promise to guide, instruct and encourage her. She instinctively knew he’d always be there to inspire her to reach her full potential, not only as a submissive but also in every other aspect of her life.
From what she had witnessed, he was considerate and supportive of his friends and colleagues. He had taken an oath to protect them and her. As a Dom, he’d already proven that he would challenge her and teach her about fully embracing the emotions she’d been shying away from for far too long. She’d become so used to being alone and hard-assed that the woman she had been before she joined the Army Rangers had disappeared. The need to be cherished had taken a back seat to serving her country. She’d indulged in the pleasure of the flesh but her heart never opened to another— until Brock. Now she was overpowered with the need to love and be loved. To care and protect and vice versa. She needed to embrace her femininity, her desires as a woman to have a man in her life.
The thoughts that inhabited her mind did little to soothe her trepidation. Brock might be the perfect Dom in many ways but he was also fiercely protective. He wouldn’t abide by any displays of irresponsible behavior that could jeopardize her own safety.
“Before you blow your top, let me remind you that I am—”
“A badass ex-Army Ranger. Yeah, I know and I respect that. But let’s get one thing absolutely crystal clear, Miss Sutton. As my newly committed partner, the only one for whom I would lay down my life, you are now inextricably linked to my future happiness and wellbeing. With that very solemn vow, you must understand that I will never, ever, countenance any acts of brinkmanship on your part, any kind of stupid, reckless behavior, or worse, any impulsive, look-at-me-I’ve-got-shit-for-brains exhibitions of ex-badass Army Ranger antics. In the unvarnished vernacular, you will not be measuring dicks with any dumbfuck, glory-seeking grunt who’s in a big hurry to die. Those days are over. From here on out, you’d better get used to the idea of wholly and completely involving me in any and all decision-making processes when it comes to your safety or I swear to God that I will grab you so hard by the short and curlies and shake your pretty ass and not let go until you scream for mercy. Are you clear on that?”
She might be bristling indignantly at his response but it did nothing to discount the struggle not to give in to the lure of his dulcet-toned voice that crawled deep inside to toggle at the submissive who was all but drooling at the dark promise in his eyes.
“You can’t seriously expect me to inform you of every move I make in the performance of my job?” Jordan was miffed that she didn’t sound as assertive as she intended, purely because of the awakening of feminine pleasure at being protected and wanted. It conflicted with the desire to be in charge of her emotions at all times. On the other hand, it felt good, realizing she could relax knowing there was now someone looking out for her. She crossed her arms over her chest, deliberately pushing her breasts upward, suppressing a smile as his gaze dropped to the enticing display.
Yes, she wasn’t above using her feminine curves to distract his anger.
“Your job, as you and Paxton have on numerous occasions assured us, is surveillance, intelligence gathering, tracing and discovery. Apprehension and capture through force of arms is far outside of that scope, Jordan.” His brow knitted together as he struggled to ignore the conscious intrusion of her satiny curves deliberately put on display to dominate his field of vision.
“Your attempt at seducing me out of my anger is having quite the opposite effect, my pet. In fact, I should point out it’s awakening the kind of expectations usually sparked by a sassy submissive that could only be satisfied in the dungeon of a club.” His eyes narrowed. She almost succeeded in hiding the smile— almost, but not quite. He was onto her.
Brock had every intention of dealing with the gauntlet she had thrown down… at the time and place of his choosing. For now, he was after information.
“I’m waiting, Jordan. Where were you and who shot up your car?”
Her eyes flashed from the windowless backdoor of the Jeep to Knox who was regarding the tête-à-tête while working hard to suppress a grin that wanted a front row seat on her face. “What makes you think it was?” The low growl was enough to warn her she was stretching credulity. As much as she wanted to assert herself, she wasn’t so disingenuous to ignore the signs of an imminent eruption.
When she’d agreed to become his sub, she knew there would be times that she would have to accept his need to protect her, however much he was already aware of her ability to take care of herself. It would come to pass, as the current situation now demonstrated, that both of them would struggle with that sticky part of the dynamic in their relationship more often than not.
“Inside. I’m not about to continue this discussion out here.” With that said, she smartly about-faced and strode up the porch steps to lead the way inside.
“Keys,” Brock’s curt order stopped her in the doorway. “If you were where I think you were, you already know that they have, in all probability, run your plates and know where you live. It would’ve been smart to anticipate that eventuality but I guess you were just too much in a rush to factor in that nagging, little detail.” Brock began to smolder at the thought of the sheer incompetence of such a miscalculation. It was unforgivable.
Jordan shuddered at her own stupidity as she handed him the keys to the Jeep before continuing to the bar trolley in the corner of the den.
Shit. I forgot how easily they found Paxton when they tried to kidnap her. Brock’s right. Once they identify me as the owner of the Jeep, they’ll come for me.
She found the promised bottle of Macallan and poured three shots. “I’ve been criminally negligent, Knox. I should never have taken my own car in the first place. We should’ve moved into a Cobra safehouse the moment we heard Marco Boneiro was back in the States.”
“Yeah, you should have but it was The Cobras’ responsibility to have insisted on it when we returned from Iraq. I apologize for our negligence in the matter. We should’ve made that call,” Brock said as he joined her on the sofa and took the proffered drink.
Jordan laughed as Knox rolled her eyes in exasperation. They were all stubbornly proud of never having had to be dependent on a man to make decisions on their behalf. On the other hand, it made her feel all warm and cherished to be on the receiving end of Brock’s concern.
“No, Brock, it’s my own fault. My attention was divided between finding Fadhil, Boneiro and linking the three groups together.” Her eyes glimmered. “And I have. I found Boneiro’s hideout.”
“That’s where the two of you went?”
Jordan inched a little to the side as she felt the tension rise in his body. His arm around her shoulder kept her in place.
“Yep, and our fearless girl over there even managed to place trackers on their vehicles and listening devices inside with a bonus one planted in a coat that Boneiro left in one of the SUVs.”
“The trackers!” Jordan jumped up and stormed to the study where she powered up her computer system and monitors on the wall. “At least we’ll know if they’re onto us and on their way over here,” she muttered as she logged into the tracking system, aware of Brock’s towering presence behind her with Knox hovering by her side. She sighed in relief when the system came online to notice the vehicle had returned to Boneiro’s hideout. “It looks like they gave up.”
“For how long? Once they report to Boneiro, he’ll be onto his contacts to find the owner of the Jeep.” Knox pointed to the screen. “How about the listening device? Anything on that?”
“No. Damn it! I should’ve logged on the moment we arrived home.” She cast an irritating look over her shoulder at Brock. If not for him insisting on a verbatim recount of where she’d been, she would have.
He ignored the glare as he called Jared on speaker from his cell phone. “Boneiro’s back. Jordan and Knox traced them to the house he’s hiding in and were made in the process.”