HIS BABY TO BEAR - THREE

TThe big guy then rolled out of his cover, exposing himself completely. He tricked one of them into dodging out of his own cover, then shot the man in the knee and throat as he screamed in pain. Olivia had to cover her mouth with her hand as she screamed, her hazel eyes widening as the man slouched to the side. As the life from his eyes faded, the last thing he saw was her staring back at him.

There was a flash of recognition in his gaze before it became completely dull.

The big guy was right by her side, gritting his teeth loudly enough for her to hear. He leaned to the right, and the odor of blood and gunpowder residue on him burned her nostrils.

"Stay down," he barked again, and Olivia had no intention of moving.

She did, however, feel strangely better with him right next to her. It wouldn't help them if they both died on the roof like the man in front of her.

"You have a chance," he said into his earset, his voice straining. "Fuck," he said, and then rolled out without another word.

Bullets whizzed around him, and Olivia saw one fly by so close to him that the fabric of his shirt ripped on his arm, revealing a thick red streak of blood on his bicep. He didn't stop moving, as if it were just a mosquito bite.

One of the attackers leaned out an inch too far and was hit between the eyes with a bullet, leaving a gaping wound that smoked as he collapsed onto the ground. It wasn't from the big guy, who was halfway up the outcropping, scaling it like a mountain climber trying to set a demented record. Olivia watched in awe as he descended from above on the last foe, bringing his heavy fist down like Thor's hammer on the guy's head.

They both fell to the ground, and the man with the angular features wasn't even twitching after a few well-aimed, unrelenting punches. He couldn't possibly pull it off. His face had been bloodied to a pulp. Olivia could only see a steady pool of blood forming around his skull.

"Come on," the big guy grumbled as he stood up.

He didn't even bother looking at his swollen arm. The only colors she saw that day seemed to be crimson and black.

Olivia shook her head, her gaze darting from one mangled body to the next before returning to the big guy. Her legs felt as if they were filled with lead, and she couldn't move a single step no matter how hard she tried. If the situation had been different, he would have run to her after giving her a stern look that would have had her melting like snow in the summer heat. His iron-like grip gripped her hand and drew her along, past that dreadful door that seemed to only let death in, and to the miscellaneous gear in the corner.

"We must act quickly. There will be more."

While he was talking, he was already putting her in a harness and checking the connections on the ropes that were tied down on the roof. His hands were moving at breakneck speed, and a tiny part of her brain couldn't help but notice how his cheeks strained as he concentrated, and the little dip that formed between his brows when he double-checked his work.

"I'm on my way down," he said quietly into his ears.

Olivia could hear a response on the other end of the line, but she couldn't figure out what it was. His wry grin told her that it was probably not meant for her ears in the first place.

"Get up on that ledge, honey," he said, smiling. "We're going to fly."

He hooked himself into his own harness as she wobbled up on the ledge, holding on with her hands and remaining on the balls of her feet. At the very least, she was wearing flats rather than pumps-small mercies.He hopped up next to her as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be hanging out on the ledge of a building, ready to rappel down into possible danger. He gave her a cocky but delicious smile.

"Who are you?" she wondered, struggling to find the right words.

"I'm the man who's about to turn you into a bird," he said, grabbing her by the shoulders and hurling her off the ledge and into the darkness below as the stairwell door swung open again.

HIS BABY TO BEAR - FOUR

Libby was furious with him, and he thought it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

The way her corners of her mouth turned down and her brow furrowed made him want to throw her over his shoulder and carry her into the deep recesses of the cabin they were in. He wouldn't let her out until she was screaming his name at the top of her lungs and not a trace of that frown remained.

That caused him to shift his cock in his pants uncomfortably as he sat on a chair by the window facing the yard in front of the house. He could still feel her eyes boring into the back of his head, as if she expected him to give her some kind of explanation that would make everything better.

But he couldn't do it. And, as things stood, adrenaline was still coursing through his veins like ice cold vodka, and he was having a hard time focusing his attention on anything other than her juicy figure or the way she squirmed beneath him.

With a grumbled sigh, he re-adjusted.

Hell on earth.

"What exactly am I doing here?" Where am I?" Libby demanded, a hint of hysteria in her voice.

He didn't resent her for it. She was a non-combatant. A woman who never expected to be involved in something straight out of a high-budget action film. He'd give her a little leeway because she'd seen death and carnage and been thrown off a roof in a matter of hours. However, not too much.

"As I previously stated, you are in an undisclosed location near Laguna. My name is Andrew. "My team and I have been tasked with your protection, and I will keep you company here until the secondary unit arrives to pick you up in the morning," he explained.

He failed to mention that five men were stationed around the perimeter at various distances and vantage points, training every piece of surveillance equipment on and around the cabin. And that he could have been outside as well, but chose not to. Something about her made him smolder and act like the irrational kid he hadn't been since they beat the hell out of him in basic training. And yet, here he was, getting a boner because a pretty girl was annoyed with him.

Certain things remain constant.

"You already told me that," she began, emphasizing the patience in her voice that had long since vanished. "However, I'd like to know where I am and why I'm here! Could you please tell me?"

He chuckled under his breath, leaning back in his chair and casting a long, rowing glance at her. Mitch, Shaun, Tom, Tim, and Jordan had this place under lock and key. At this point, he was nothing more than a contingency to the contingency. But he had to pretend he was doing something other than admiring the scene Ellie had created, her cheeks flushed with rage and her hands on her hips. When she wasn't dealing with bodies dropping dead around her, she could go from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds.

Jerome couldn't help but admire a woman with that quality.

I like a lot of things about her, he reflected, darkly amused.

"No, honey, I'm afraid I can't tell you any of that. You just have to believe in me and my boys. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, we'll keep you safe," he said, letting his deep voice rumble a little too loudly.

So he was strutting his stuff a little. It's a big deal.

"Stop referring to me as honey. "My name is Libby," she explained, exasperated.

She'd taken her coat off and washed her hands and face. They'd arrived at the cabin about a half-hour earlier, and the takeout that had been waiting for them was sitting cold on the table, despite the fact that neither of them was particularly hungry. Jerome needed time to recover from the game's high, and Ellie... well, seeing guts spill out of a guy does something to one's hunger. Unless they've grown accustomed to it.

"Sure thing, honey," he drawled, proudly wearing her glare.

"So, what can you tell me?" What brought you to my house? Who were those individuals? "What do they expect of me?"

Jerome shrugged, scowling slightly. This was one of the minor tasks they completed in between the major ones. It was only a side job for Squad Six, or Shifting Squad Six as their employers affectionately referred to them, if there weren't machine guns and aerial drop-ins involved. They were all ex-special ops or ex-army, the best of the best, and they knew it. The majority of them had left active duty for personal reasons, but the money in the private sector was too good to pass up for long.

It was supposed to be a simple job, in and out with no muss and no fuss. So far, it had only been that. With the unexpected bonus of being able to enjoy the company of a stunning woman thrown in for good measure. However, in most jobs, information was given solely on a need-to-know basis, and he didn't need to know. That meant she didn't, as far as he was concerned.

He shrugged casually, giving her a smirk that made her bottom lip curl in annoyance. What he wouldn't have given to turn that frown around.

"I'm not sure what they want from you, honey. I was there because some wealthy men in expensive suits paid me to be there. If it makes you feel better, we weren't there just for you. But I'm not at all disappointed that it turned out to be you," he said, his voice a low, growling purr.

Shit. That was the kind of behavior he could expect from himself after about five shots of tequila and a glass of whiskey, not when he was on the job. But the way her hair bounced off her brow when she threw her head back in frustration, and the way she kept wringing her hands together, did a number on him. Everything she did seemed to him to be a big, screaming sign. A sign that he shouldn't be sitting alone at that table.

She paced back and forth, allowing him to get a good look at her thick thighs and ample ass, which were made to be grabbed by his calloused hands. He put the rifle he'd been tinkering with on the windowsill and sat down to watch the show. She huffed under her breath, clearly more enraged than concerned. It was unsurprising. People dealt with the situation in their own unique ways.

She abruptly came to a halt and gave him a hard, irritated look. He shrugged casually and spread his hands, his best schoolboy grin on his face.

"I'm just checking in to see whether you're all right, honey."

"By focusing your eyes on my ass?"

"You know, it needs to be defended as well," he smirked. "And nothing beats having the Navy on your side."

He could tell she was attempting to annoy him, but he missed the faint smile that went across her lips for a single second. Oh, absolutely. He had her there. He already had a thing for her spirit.

"You know, you should be proud of yourself for today." "There aren't many women who can jump off a skyscraper without losing their calm."

"Did it appear like I hurled myself off?" she asked, sitting across from him, her chin resting on her hand.

"I'm just trying to keep you alive, honey," he said, emphasizing the word "honey."

Because of the way she jerked a little bit every time he uttered it, his blood was boiling with hunger.

"You think you're so smooth," she murmured, rolling her eyes. "Has anyone ever told you you're too cocky and arrogant?"

"A lot has been said about my cock, honey," he yawned, stretching his arms back, "but it's typically in incomprehensible forms like groans and screams. "I can't really keep count," he yawned, stretching his arms back.

His tendons were hardening and the heat in his muscles should have dissipated, but his heart rate remained elevated. Jerome realized why. That gorgeous piece of ass sitting next to him, smelling like sex on legs, was getting to him.

He was ready to bite something when his earset pinged.

"I'm paying attention," he murmured, his gaze riveted on Libby.

"Perimeter appears to be clear. Shaun has adopted a defensive stance. Mitch and Tom are on the first shift. Pickup is scheduled for 0600," Tim replied matter-of-factly.

Jerome extracted the device from his ear and set it on the windowsill next to his weapon. Right now, you have nothing to do but entertain yourself.

He now has nothing to do but entertain himself with the succulent delicacy in front of him.

Normally, if Jerome desired anything, he would make it clear. It was, however, never a mark. It was never someone that he was taked with protecting. And no one ever compelled him to act that way. He was willing to give her some breathing room and allow her to get a better look at him. But he knew he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't have that woman that night.

Libby's face wrinkled as she asked, "What was that?"

"Exciting news!" he cried, grin on his face. She appeared hopeful for a brief period. "You've got six hours of my company and mine alone; tell me what you're going to do with it."

"I'd like you to tell me something logical. Why is a SWAT unit around me, and why were they attempting to murder me? After all, that was what was going on. They had planned to assassinate me. I have a job as a secretary. I don't know anything," Libby admitted, her face buried in her hands.

He half expected her to cry, but she wasn't that kind of lady. She wouldn't break beneath the pressure, but she might bend somewhat. But isn't that why he was there?

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything I don't know, honey." I'm not sure what they believe you know or have, but it's apparently enough to kill and maim you. As a result, you're valuable. And, you know, I like to keep expensive stuff protected. I can tell you that nothing horrible will happen to you while I am present. I'm not going to let you go until I can give you to someone who appreciates the value of valuable things as well as I do, okay? "

Who is this man, and what had he done to Jerome? Jerome heard himself say all of those things as if he were watching rather than participating in the act, and worst of all, he meant it. He wasn't just acting on duty when he said those things; he truly wanted to make sure Libby was secure. He'd bring the moon down from the sky if it made her feel better.

His bear roared deep inside him as another whiff of her smell floated into his nose, driving him mad with want.

She had a wonderful scent. She didn't seem to belong anywhere but in his arms.

He was filled with envy when he realized he'd have to pass her over to another squad the next morning. And it reminded him of another time when he had felt the same way, and how it had absolutely erupted in his face.

Her name lingered at the back of his head, mocking and plaguing him. Olivia. He couldn't keep the sneer from coming to his lips as her name appeared in his brain, the ideal incarnation of loss, humiliation, and wrath that he could imagine.

The noise shocked Libby. That brief flash of anxiety on her exquisite face drove him to set his feet firmly on the ground and take a few sure, short steps to reduce the gap between them. He crouched in front of her and slowly took her hands away from her face, cupping them in his enormous paws. They were a little cool, and he had to resist the impulse to blow on them or kiss her fingertips to warm them up.

Part of him told him to dig in his heels and wait till he could figure things out. However, a much larger, far more demanding part of him was having none of it, and to be honest, Jerome agreed heartily.

"Hey. Everything will be alright, Libby. Nothing will ever damage you. Whatever the reason, a solution will be found. You will start a new life, one you will be able to design however you see fit. So what if you crossed paths with some scum? "It'll make you stronger," he asserted emphatically.

When she stared at him, her hazel eyes twinkled with something he couldn't quite make out.

As a result, he did the only logical thing in that situation.

Jerome slid his hand behind her neck and kissed her on the lips, hard and deep.