Ransomed Heart: A Rescue Team Nine Romance (Book 4)

People say opposites attract. They never met Wildcat.

Gunner

“Who the hell is that?”

I’m on the prowl. We just returned from deployment, and the idea of letting loose is on my mind. Now that most of my comrades are shackled, my choice of women has increased, especially since pretty boy Chance “Dice” Sanders is officially off the market. I love my comrade like a brother, but the women come to you when you’re as pretty as he is and rich to boot. Money isn’t something I have to worry about. My stock in my family’s motorcycle empire is enough to sustain me for the rest of my life. I can’t help I don’t look the part of the wealthy playboy.

The woman sashaying to the bar is the epitome of a good lay. Her tight black dress hugs her curves in all the right places. The black leather boots strapped on her long legs match well with the black leather jacket she wears. The long red hair cascading down her back makes the creamy flesh of her bare back stand out. I’m not the only male to notice. Several eyes follow her. Guy “Striker” Arteaga whistles.

“Watch out, Gunner. Something tells me that one’s off limits.”

“Never say off limits, my friend. For dating, most definitely. For fucking, not a chance. And it’s the fucking that matters.”

“Okay then. I’m a gambling man. I bet you a hundred dollars you can’t get your dick into that one.”

I smile. I love a good challenge. I hate to lose.

“You’re on.”

Striker takes a long swig from his beer while I stand and head across the dance floor toward the bar. The woman is facing the bartender when I step behind her. A beer rests in her hand—my kind of woman. No fruity drink is present. I watch her lay some money on the bar to pay before I place my hand on hers. Throwing a few bills on the counter, I let myself look forward to the next few hours.

“On me, Sam.”

The lady tenses when I lean down to whisper in her ear.

“You look like someone who would appreciate a good ride. What do you say? I’ll make it memorable.”

Her shoulders quiver. It takes me a moment to realize she’s laughing. What the hell? Okay, so it’s not the best line I’ve ever used, but when words fail me, my voice always ropes them in. My mother declares I have a crooner’s voice. It helps that my brothers and I were raised with parents from the Bronx, even though we were raised in Florida. And if my voice doesn’t rope them in, my looks usually do. Hey, I’m a self-loving bastard. Hell, thanks to the older man, I’m a jackass, period, so it’s not surprising that I’m feeling rather pissed off when her laughter erupts.

“Hey, listen here.”

Twisting her stool around to face me, I reel backward from the shock of what I see. I’ve been branded. Fucking scarred for life. Aw hell. I will never live this down. This is going down in the history books of epic failures.

“Does that really work?”

Wildcat.

The hoots of laughter coming from our table cause my face to turn red. Holy hell, it will never end. I give them the finger without turning around. That only fuels the storm.

“Hey, Wildcat! You need to wear those boots more often. You got Gunner’s dick hard without even trying.”

I ignore Dice and continue to glare at Wildcat.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

She glares back. The patrons sitting on either side of her must sense the tension. It’s only a short time before the bar area is cleared.

“What does it look like?”

“It’s bad enough you’ve fucked up our crew. Now you’re fucking with my social life. Great.”

“You were the one that hit on me, remember? I can’t help it if I make leather look sex worthy.”

And she does, damn it. She makes leather look like pure sex on a stick. My mind’s already placing her long legs behind mine on my bike. Shit. Why the hell does she have to be so infuriating? Faith “Wildcat” Lenzi joined Rescue Team Nine on our last mission, and she’s been a stitch in my side ever since. It’s my call sign for her that she carries, and truthfully, I’m a bit shocked she’s kept it. I’ve dubbed her Wildcat for good reason. It took weeks for the scratches she gave me to heal. Maybe it was my fault I’d forgotten to inform her that the drink she’d been drinking during our last mission had been drugged. It wasn’t my fault Dice left me to babysit the fire-headed temptress. That had resulted in one hell of a night, and by the daggers we’re shooting each other, it’s a night I doubt either of us will ever forget. It still haunts me every fucking day.

I smile. I could turn this around in my favor. I notice the way she bites her lip when I lean forward. She’s not as immune to me as she likes to pretend.

“You looking for a partner, Wildcat. I wasn’t lying about that ride. I’ve yet to have any complaints.”

She swallows, and I swear I see her eyes darken before the usual steel that’s there returns.

“That’s your problem, Gunner. Your brain can’t keep up with the size of your dick.”

The punch to my intelligence should have hurt, but it only makes my smile widen.

“You want to try it out for size, sugar?”

A hard pat on my back causes me to stumble forward. I frown in Jack “Red” Porter’s direction. He seems undeterred. “The heat in this room is causing my dick to get hard. I’m going home to my wife.”

I can’t help myself. “Watch those shooters, buddy. You might end up with triplets.”

Red gives me a shit-eating grin as he approaches the door. “You might want to say the same for Dice. His shooters seem to be as strong as mine.”

Dice remains silent, but the smile on his face says something different.

“I’ll be knocking second base by the time you guys figure that out.”

Eric “Bear” Anderson holds his hands up in farewell but pauses at the exit and points a finger at Wildcat and me. “Debriefing in the morning. Try not to kill each other before then.”

“At least leave some of him unscathed tonight, Wildcat.” Dice draws out her name in a way that grates on my nerves. I can tell by the way he’s trembling he’s having a hard time holding back his laughter. I’ll find a way to get even with the jackass. Later. I watch them walk out the door before returning my attention to my partner. Her lips are turned up in a sexy little smirk that’s doing funny things to my insides. I choose to ignore it.

“I think I’ll pass, but I’m sure you could find a partner willing to participate in your cock worthy game. She might even offer to swallow.”

“That’s never an issue for me, sugar.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You trying to piss me off?”

“Is it working?” No. Yes. Fuck it.

The woman’s infuriating. Turning, I walk off and refuse to look back in her direction. I’ll prove her wrong. When I return to our table, Striker’s already playing tongue hockey with some blonde bombshell. Usually, I’d be the asshole to step in and suggest a threesome, but I’m too intent on my own release.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before another beautiful blonde minx comes saddling up to me. Running her fingers along the ridges of my chest through my black t-shirt, she practically purrs.

“You look a little lonely. Maybe I can help you with that while my sister here is preoccupied.” Looking at them, I notice the similarities.

Striker looks up long enough to offer me a grin.

“I’m not sure he can handle you, honey. He’s already been turned down once.”

Glaring at my partner, I grab the woman’s hand and lead the way to a far wall in a corner close to the entrance. There’s an alcove there I’ve seen plenty of lovers frequent. She has to step on her toes to reach my large frame, but that doesn’t stop her. She kisses me at the corner of my lips. The slight nip doesn’t elicit the excitement it usually does after a deployment. For some reason, that pisses me off more. I don’t leave her hanging. Pushing her gently against the wall behind us, I lean over, grab a handful of hair, and kiss her until she’s moaning and moving underneath me to find her point of pleasure. I can feel Wildcat’s eyes boring into me. I don’t know how or why I know it, but I know she’s watching. Somehow, that causes my adrenaline to spike out of control. Breaking the kiss, I allow the bombshell before me to kiss her way down my neck. With my head turned to the side, I can’t help but meet Wildcat’s gaze. I don’t have to be close to her to know the color of her eyes, electric blue. It’s a vibrant blue that offsets that tremendous red hair I’ve shamelessly dreamed of running my hands through. Damn it all to hell, I’m fast becoming a hair man due to that unbearable woman. My dick hardens from the memory of it. The chick feasting on me giggles. The sound grates on my nerves. She presses her hand against the crotch of my jeans and massages the area eagerly.

“Ready for me already?”

She’s pleased with herself, but all I can concentrate on is the look of disgust directed at my half-closed eyes, or is that ... jealousy? Wouldn’t that be some shit? But the look is gone before I can confirm it. Wildcat stalks past me, heading for the exit. I smile at her in that self-absorbed way she hates. I love pissing her off. She pauses and looks like she wants to say something but changes her mind at the last minute. I can see the fire in her eyes. I’m still absorbing the aftershocks of her anger by the time she disappears out the door. For some reason, that pisses me off. Why does she have to ruin everything? Pushing the chick in my arms further into the shadows, I quickly grab a condom from my back pocket, cover my dick that she’s already managed to lay bare, and lift my willing participant in the air. She squeals with happiness, and I’m not surprised to find her commando under her slinky sundress. Slipping inside her, I wrap her legs around me. Usually, I’m nice enough to help my partner find her release, but tonight, I’m too busy chasing the fury I saw on Wildcat’s face. I’m an asshole that way. Pumping in and out of her, I find myself imagining another body wrapped around me, which only spurs me to move harder and faster. Lucky for me, the chick finds her release when I do, or she’s good at faking it. I’m not enough of a gentleman to give a shit or to ask for her name. Besides, it’s not her blonde locks I see in my vision when I grab her hair and pull as I come. It’s Wildcat’s.