Sex Bomb Read online

  Nicole Austin

  From first sight I knew Marine Lieutenant Harlie Savage wasn’t fragile like a flower—she was fragile like a bomb. Definitely not some princess who needed to be saved, either. She was a queen who only lacked a sword, and I vowed to be her weapon.

  Published by Nicole Austin

  Cover by Nicole Austin

  Copyright © 2019 Nicole Austin

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Authors Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

  Other Books by Nicole Austin

  Excerpt from Sassy Faerie Princess

  To my knowledge, Canyon Creek, Colorado does not exist. I created the fictional town for the purposes of this book.

  Central American Jungle

  HARLIE

  Soaring across azure skies, riding the ebb and flow of thermals, skimming the tops of towering trees before dropping to skip over the shimmery surface of a lake, all with my favorite playlist blaring.

  I love my job!

  Every shade of green and brown imaginable blurred together as I zoomed past, rotors creating a wave of motion through the dense vegetation in my wake. The lush, diverse jungle formed an incredible backdrop that I took the time to appreciate on a daily basis. I considered myself blessed to have beheld such beauty.

  For me, nothing else came close to the thrill of flying. When in my helo the constant noise in my head was silenced, all the tension and stress left my body and I found peace. Just Lola and me moving as one in complete harmony, defying gravity, and at times breaking the laws of physics.

  In less than twenty hours I’d be headed stateside to become a civilian after ten years of service and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that or what came next. For the most part, I avoided feelings of any kind. I’d had them before and knew they lead to pain and agony. In my experience, staying detached was best.

  Being a Marine had given me everything I’d sought—a strong sense of self, strength, confidence, and independence. I’d grown. Matured. Licked my childhood wounds, come to terms with the past, and for the most part, moved on.

  Sure, a couple of ghosts still haunted me. I recognized them for what they were—stark reminders to never allow anyone to get too close or become too important to me.

  But none of it mattered then. For one last day I was a Lieutenant in the Marines. And the Captain, bless him, had given me a sweet cake run of a last mission. Essentially a taxi job delivering a black ops asset, shrouded by a heavy cloak of secrecy and need-to-know, back to base.

  Viper.

  The word alone held power. It sparked a sensual chill that skated along my spine, heated my blood, and snapped nerve ending to tingling awareness. I didn’t know his real name or anything about his life, only the code name and the way he made my body tremble, burn and detonate.

  Viper was the ultimate strong, silent type. I’d known him for a year and we’d rarely spoken a word that wasn’t involved with sex. The perfect man for my needs—all sexual gratification and no messy strings or emotions.

  Yes, please.

  On the rare occasion I got Viper in my helo, I put Lola through her paces in an attempt to shake Mr. Tall, Dark and Deadly’s legendary calm and control. Sadly, I’d never succeeded. The man had nerves of steel. I haven’t elicited a single sound from him, much to my chagrin. And this final flight as a Marine was my last chance.

  Time to pull out the big guns.

  Threading the needle along a narrow riverbed lined with thick tree growth, I zoomed straight toward a sheer rock-faced waterfall. Waiting until the last possible second, with terrain warnings blaring, I pulled up hard and made a nearly vertical climb up the falls, skids cutting through the water, a huge anticipatory grin stretching my lips. The maneuver never failed to win at least a gasp, if not a few curses, out of my passengers.

  Not a peep rose from behind me.

  Damn that man!

  Color me impressed. And considering the number of testosterone overloaded badasses I’d dealt with during my military career it took a lot to impress me. Even more for me to notice a man’s looks, and I have to admit, Viper is smokin’ hot. Super tall, probably six-three or four, with thick brown hair, and steel gray eyes. His black T-shirt molded beautifully to a ripped torso, and fuck if those cargo pants weren’t lovingly cupping one hell of a fabulous ass.

  Yes, I admit it. I’m a total ass girl. There’s nothing better than sinking my fingers into a spectacular pair of glutes while being pounded hard. Yet his unflappable, cool demeanor was what really did it for me, hence the reason I had to snap that control and make him break. Then I’d be able to leave without so much as a backward glance.

  My one unbreakable rule, the line I’d vowed to never cross, was fucking anyone from my current duty station. Time and again I bore witness to that situation going bad and I absolutely despised drama. Especially relationship drama. The last thing I needed were thoughts of a man I’d fucked interfering with my focus during a mission.

  Since Viper wasn’t assigned to my base or part of my medivac missions and remained drama free, he was perfect for scratching that insatiable itch. With him, I got the bliss of his big cock fucking me ten ways to Sunday and absolutely no entanglements. I doubted he even knew I’d be leaving in the morning.

  A sharp pang of regret momentarily fisted my heart. If we were together in a different situation, I could fall skids over rotor for him.

  Thank God there was no possibility of that happening!

  I locked on my goal with the tenacity of a heat-seeking missile. As a daring, last ditch idea dawned an irrepressible, evil grin stretched across my face. A vertical loop, the last trick up my sleeve, was sure to result in success. I ran a quick risk versus benefit analysis in my head. Sure, the Captain would give me a major dressing down if I made the spook toss his cookies, but the reaming out wouldn’t last long. Come zero nine hundred I’d be gone, long gone.

  Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew I could pull off the maneuver because yes, I’m that good. But with more thought, I determined the idea held too much risk. Viper could keep his cool control and I’d retain my professionalism.

  As I debated, a hard impact rocked Lola’s tail end and she careened into an uncontrolled spin. Warning alarms sounded and the rudders stopped responding. Knowing altitude and speed were huge factors in our survival, I pressed and held the thrust key, climbing as fast as possible. We were way too low for a safe recovery and I had to get higher above the tree line to avoid a collision.

  Blinding pain suddenly exploded in my right thigh, but I clenched my teeth and tuned it out. Our lives depende
d on quick reactions and laser focus. I couldn’t let anything distract me.

  Skimming my gaze over the instruments, I zeroed in on the ATRQ—Anti Torque Rotation indicator. The light shone solid red, confirming my gut feeling. Something took out the tail rotor. Scanning the landscape for an open area, I bit back a curse at finding nothing but miles of dense jungle.

  More than one thousand safe and successful flight hours in Lola during my deployment and I get taken down on my last official day as a Marine.

  Fuck my luck!

  Cutting the music and toggling the switch for coms, I struggled to regain control of the Black Hawk, rocking her nose down repeatedly, maneuvering in an attempt to end the dizzying spin and achieve consistent forward flight.

  “Sierra Bravo Six Niner to Alpha One tower. Come in tower.”

  Silencing the infernal alarms, I listened intently. My passenger remained deadly silent. If I didn’t know he was securely harnessed to the seat, I would have wondered if he’d been tossed out one of the open aft doors.

  After several seemingly endless moments the tower finally responded. “Alpha One tower. Go ahead, Sierra Bravo Six Niner.”

  SB69, Lola’s call sign, assigned by the grease monkeys when they got their first look at me, usually gave me a chuckle. Sex bomb sixty-nine—it suited us. Yet the dire situation had wiped away any trace of humor.

  My maneuvering had leveled out the helo but Lola started flying in reverse. Increasing rearward velocity in an attempt to flip flight direction one hundred eighty degrees wasn’t working. The situation had just gone from bad to FUBAR—Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. We were out of control and heading straight for dense jungle with no potential safe landing site.

  “Unidentified contact. I’ve lost my tail rotor. Altitude too low. All recovery measures have failed.”

  I rattled off the pertinent details of our location and status of the aircraft as if functioning on autopilot while my mind raced to find a means for getting Lola back on the ground in one piece. When it became apparent that wasn’t going to happen, I calmly updated the tower.

  “Mayday, mayday, mayday. Sierra Bravo Six Niner is going down. Would appreciate SAR coming for us at their earliest possible convenience.” Even as I voiced the request, I knew the search and rescue team was being scrambled and briefed on the situation.

  Switching to internal coms, I instructed Viper, “Brace for impact.” Looking out at the unforgiving landscape I added, “This is gonna hurt!”

  A kaleidoscope of images flash through my mind. A slideshow of memories. The first time I saw Rex, my first love, five years old with a lopsided smile and shaggy black hair hanging down into his sapphire eyes. Holding my hand when we were seven and one of our friends united us in a make-believe wedding. The ten-year-old lanky boy glancing down at me with concern when I crashed my bike and broke my elbow. At fourteen, his dirt streaked face below mine as he lifted me in his arms and twirled me around after scoring the winning touchdown. And the last time I’d seen him at the age of eighteen, face peaceful with sleep.

  The images switched to more recent times with Viper, nude and sitting on my bunk as I straddled his thighs and rode his hard cock. Another with his back to me, pulling pants over that glorious ass after an intense round of fucking. Finally, his steel gray irises shrunk to a thin ring around dilated black pupils as he relentlessly pounded into me.

  Past and present. First young love and current lover. Boy and man.

  Going down. We could die in the crash. I could lose Viper.

  My heart clenched, chest tightening with panic. Had I really thought I’d kept emotions at bay where Viper was concerned? How the hell had I imagined I could walk away?

  The ripping, tearing and groaning of battered steel thrust me back into the moment to finally hear the sound I’d worked so hard to obtain.

  “Fuuuck!”

  Regardless of the situation, Viper’s drawn out curse had a rueful smile spreading over my lips. Figures it took crashing my helo to shake the man.

  *****

  Consciousness returned with a blast of agonizing pain and disorientation. There wasn’t an inch of my body that didn’t hurt. Pulling off my flight helmet, I repeatedly blinked in an attempt to clear my blurry vision. When I could see, I groaned in despair. The helo’s cockpit was torn apart, most of the controls gone or wrecked beyond anything recognizable, and the area where the radio should have been was completely missing. Then there was the confusing, wonky view of sideways trees out the spider-webbed windshield.

  My first thought was of my crew, and I turned my gaze to where the copilot’s seat should have been only to discover the left side of the helicopter had been ripped away as if it were a tin can. A surge of panic tightened my chest and made it hard to breathe before I remembered that my medivac team had not been onboard. I’d taken Lola out alone on one last cake run.

  I started to chuckle at the thought but a stabbing pain slicing through my head turned it into a moan. “Owww, fuck me!”

  Feeling as if my head had been split in two, I reached up to check for injury. With my searching fingertips finding no lumps, bumps or lacerations, I sighed in relief. The helmet had done its job. A tentative wiggling of my fingers and toes assured that all important body parts were still intact and functional.

  “Hey,” I called out, cringing at the pain spiking through my already aching head. “Viper?” I inquired in a softer, yet no less painful tone. “Are you alive?”

  Nothing beyond the normal sounds of the jungle reached my ears.

  “Fucking silent type! Now would be a great time to speak up.” Yes, I’d previously praised him for his quietness but in the current situation his lack of verbalization freaked me out.

  Action plan—get my passenger and myself the fuck out of there STAT in case what remained of Lola blew up.

  Get moving, Marine!

  Through the missing window under my right side, I got an up close and personal view of the ground. “Won’t be exiting that way.”

  With unsteady hands, I unbuckled my harness. “Okay, Viper. If you’re dead, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  The irrational words drew a snort from me, but the sound of my voice helped me keep it together. Gritting my teeth, I gingerly turned sideways in the seat and peered into the back of the craft. The jumpseat backing mine remined but the other one had gone missing, along with Lola’s entire left side.

  “Christ.” How the hell did I survive the crash?

  Pushing thoughts of myself aside, I levered my body up and over the seat edge, swiveled and dropped down into the back of the wreckage, landing with a bone-jarring thud. My head swam, vision going black as nausea swelled from the jolt to my right leg. Falling onto my ass, I stuck my head between my knees and breathed through the sensations, fighting to remain conscious.

  A wave of sweat heated my body. Yanking my zipper down, I pulled my arms free of the flight coverall and tied the sleeves around my waist. After several long minutes, I slowly, tentatively opened my eyes again. No spinning vision or nausea that time, thank fuck. I couldn’t afford to pass out again.

  Directly beside me, Viper’s lax body dangled horizontally, held in the seat by the harness. Blood slicked his forehead from a gash above one eye. Otherwise he appeared intact, and just as gorgeous as ever.

  A wave of relief crashed over me, easing the tight fist clenched around my heart the slightest bit.

  Not willing to risk putting any weight on my leg, I scooted on my ass across the wreckage until I could kneel in front of him. Tilting my head to the side, I stared into his slack face and placed two fingers over the pulse point in his neck. When I felt the steady beat of his heart, I released the breath I’d been holding in a rush.

  “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.”

  Attempts to arouse my passenger were futile and I figured it was probably best to get him out of the seat while he was still out since it wasn’t going to feel good. With his horizontal position, the harness had pulled too tight for me to u
nbuckle and there was no way I could get him out where he didn’t fall. Reaching into my boot, I pulled out my knife and sawed through the thick straps until they give way. As more than two hundred pounds of dead weight slammed into me, knocking me flat and driving all the air from my lungs, I decided that I should have considered other options.

  Getting out from under Viper was a long, exhausting struggle but eventually I succeed in shoving him off my chest. Normally, I loved being under him but not when he inhibited my ability to breathe. Fuck if he didn’t smell good, though. Sexy. A familiar musky, heady masculine aroma I greedily drew into my once again functioning lungs.

  Epinephrine flooding my system, my entire body zinged with awareness of the hot hunk of a man. With shaking fingertips, I wiped the blood from his eyes, startled when his long black lashes fluttered then sprung open. In the next instant, I was once again flattened under his big body, only this time his large hand pinned my throat to Lola’s crumpled shell as narrowed, sharp gray eyes assessed the threat level. I gurgled and gasped, clawing at his hand, black dots dancing in my vision.

  Recognition dawned after several excruciatingly long moments, and having determined I presented no threat, his grip eased and his weight shifted off my chest, allowing me to breathe. With a curse, I sucked in large gulps of air, gave him my best death glare, and punched his arm using all my strength. He arched a brow, looking about as impacted as if a fly had landed on him. “You fucktard,” I rasped.

  His brow quirked up and I could tell he wasn’t impressed by the weak insult. Yeah, well given time and oxygen, I’d do better.

  “Sit rep,” he demanded in the whiskey-rough, commanding voice I only ever heard during sex. Immediately, all my girly parts perked up and stood at attention, ready for action.

  “Uh…” The massive bulge rising between his legs and pressing against my throbbing clit wiped all but one thought from my mind. I wanted that big, hard cock inside me.