High Octane Heroes Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Foreword

  Introduction

  AS YOU WERE

  FIVE-ALARM FIRE

  RENEGADE

  PAINTED

  BESIEGED

  PUMPING IRON

  DIVING DEEP

  HEATED NEGOTIATIONS

  ONCE UPON A TIME IN MUKDAHAN

  BIG GUNS

  NATURAL APPETITES

  SEAL DESTINY

  MOUNTAIN MAN

  THE STAR

  PITCH BLACK

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  ABOUT THE EDITOR

  Copyright Page

  FOREWORD

  High-Octane Heroes. What does that say to you as a reader of romance? If you immediately get a smile and that warm, tingly, sigh feeling, then yeah, you’re like me. You’re happy. You know you’re in for a treat.

  What would romance be without the hot alpha male? Particularly the military man, the man in uniform. Along with that uniform, honor, loyalty and the undying willingness to protect, what would romance be without him? I don’t know, and I don’t particularly care to find out.

  When asked to write a foreword for an anthology devoted to that kind of man, I knew that, yeah, I could do it, but how to put into words how I feel about that kind of hero? The kind of man I write for all of my books? A uniform is just that. Clothing. It’s what is underneath that uniform that matters.

  Whether the outer trappings are an actual uniform with a flag or a badge, or plain street clothes, or even a kilt or grungy, tight-fitting jeans, it’s the man wearing them and the heart within him that is all-important to the reader.

  We’re romance readers. We want heart. We want heat. We want a guy who’ll go to the wall every single time for his heroine and also the people important to him. Protect the innocent. Fight the good fight. Go to the wall. Every. Damn. Time.

  If you like this kind of hero, if he hits every one of your reader buttons, then this is an anthology for you. A collection devoted solely to that kind of man. The super-alpha male, regardless of what—or any—uniform he wears. Ever hear the saying the clothes make the man? That’s total crap. It’s the heart that makes the man.

  Maya Banks

  INTRODUCTION

  Without spelling out how long ago it actually was, I’ll admit to an early fascination with manly men and their high-testosterone adventures. I loved cops, firemen, soldiers, knights in shining armor and spies. Remember “The Man from Uncle”? How about “The Saint”? Truth be told, I often imagined myself as a damsel in need of rescue, blonde hair flowing, hands tied and stretched above my head, my body at the mercy of a drooling fiend, and then the hero—once he’d dispatched the heinous villain. I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that although I always managed in those daydreams to somehow lose my clothes, I had only a very vague idea of what exactly the hero would do with me at that point. The rescue, the steamy glances and teasing caresses were enough to spur those young fantasies.

  When I grew older and experienced some of those high-octane adventures for myself, I decided I didn’t like imagining myself a victim, but instead standing toe to toe with that powerful male—until the moment he convinced me I’d really rather bend to his will…and wicked hands and mouth…

  So when my editor asked me for ideas for another collection, I submitted my own personal fantasy, this idea of “high-octane” heroes, and although she took some convincing, my enthusiasm ultimately persuaded her that maybe there were other women out there who shared the same passion for those strong, studly men.

  How lucky are we that so many writers knew exactly what I wanted? Maybe it was the description I gave when I announced my call for submissions…

  What is it about heroes like Superman, Iron Man or Thor that revs our engines like no other? Is it the suit? The manly physique? Or is it the courage they display, wading in where others fear to go, to save the damsel, the city, the Earth?

  Are there real-life heroes who inspire the same lustful fascination? Kick-ass iconic heroes who enter danger zones in the name of duty, honor, country—or maybe love—who conjure images of hard, chiseled bodies, deadly glares and camouflaged features?

  I’ll admit I got a little carried away there. Still, it worked.

  I received stories of military men and everyday heroes within our own communities—policemen, personal trainers, firemen and even an EMT. While many of the stories feature women in need of rescue, many more show women ready to do the rescuing, to serve and defend their community, country and the world, while waging very sexy battles with those absurdly manly men.

  Delilah Devlin

  AS YOU WERE

  Alice Janell

  The rainfall of rocks and debris were the least of her problems. Someone shouted something, but the words were drowned in the sharp reports of weapons. Ears ringing from the spray of bullets not too far away, Laura kept focused on the injured solider in front of her. Heart pounding, she suppressed her fear and continued to work. A tourniquet had been tied off. If she could get him to the surgical unit quickly, maybe they could save his leg. If not…

  Stay positive. It’s just like training. Only he could die.

  A rough hand jerked her away from her work.

  “Stand down!” she barked, not even glancing at the soldier who distracted her momentarily.

  “The med trucks are here. We have to go now. They’ve given the orders to pull out.”

  A quick glance at the uniform in front of her gave her a name: Stevens. Glancing up at the dirty face in front of her, she shook her head. “I’m not leaving him. Can you carry him?”

  A quick nod from Stevens was all she needed. With her wounded soldier being carted toward the med trucks, she began to follow. An agonized groan caught her ear. How she heard it, she didn’t know. The mixture of gunfire and shouts was deafening. She paused, looking. Stevens stopped.

  “Go,” she told him. “I’m right behind you.”

  Another quick survey of the area revealed nothing. Had she imagined it?

  It happened in slow motion.

  A bulldozer knocked her off her feet. Something hit the ground. Too close. Adrenaline coursed through her, and she tried to roll to the side, wanting to sprint toward the remaining trucks. But the bulldozer prevented her from doing anything. Rocks scattered around them, and she instinctively curled, ducking her head beneath her arms.

  “I’m right here, Laura,” a voice boomed in her ears. Tony.

  She relaxed just a fraction as the sound of his voice washed over her. Before she could say anything to him, the sound of helicopters roared overhead. The cavalry had arrived. They needed to get out of the area. Fast.

  Tony Valdez, the bulldozer of a soldier who’d tackled her to the ground, caught her gaze. His face was covered in dirt and grime, but that didn’t matter. With his chiseled jaw and dark, penetrating gaze, Tony had her insides melting, even in the heat of battle. The look on his face, however, was all business. He motioned toward the remaining trucks. She nodded, knowing they were going to have to run at a dead sprint to catch them before they left.

  A heartbeat passed. Then another.

  Tony lifted his body off of hers, offered a hand to pull her up and began running. Laura followed suit, her hand still inside his. He was faster, able to take longer strides, but he stayed with her. Soldiers in the trucks were waving, calling them to hurry.

  Her adrenaline spiked, pumping her legs faster. A wisp of hair fell in her eyes, but she ignored it. Her muscles burned, but there wasn’t time to think about that. She could rest later.

  Tony jumped into the truck first, pulling her up after.

  She started to thank him, but he shook his head.

  “Later,” he told
her, taking a seat on the other side of the truck. He was panting, his face slick with sweat. He kept his gaze on her a moment longer and then closed his eyes.

  As the truck sped away from the battle, she looked at the men and women around her. Each of them were haggard but all of them alive. She spared a brief thought for Stevens and her wounded soldier. She hoped they had made it to the med truck in time.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” Someone tapped her shoulder. “Are you a medic?”

  She nodded. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, ma’am—”

  “Sergeant Hayes,” she corrected.

  “Sergeant Hayes,” the boy repeated. He was a boy, too. He couldn’t have been more than twenty with that baby face. “It’s Tom—I mean, Corporal Briggs.” He pointed to another young man sitting a few feet away, clutching his side and hissing through his teeth.

  She nodded once and moved down toward Briggs. “Corporal, can you speak?”

  “Yes.” His voice was rough.

  Laura could tell the effort hurt him. “Are you bleeding?”

  “Nothing too serious. A few cuts. Hurts to breathe.”

  Placing her hand over his, she moved it and felt along his rib cage. When he cringed and shied from her touch she clucked her tongue. “Probably a bruised or fractured rib,” she told him. “There’s not much I can do for you here, I’m afraid. Just keep as still as possible, taken even breaths. A doc can give you pain meds, but it should heal on its own in about six weeks.”

  Briggs nodded, relaxing a little. “Thanks, Sergeant.”

  After Briggs, Laura checked the other soldiers around her. None were seriously injured, thank goodness. Most had a few scrapes and cuts, and one had a gash on his forehead, but that was the extent of the injuries.

  When she knelt in front of Tony, his eyes opened. There was a dark, predatory look in his eyes that sent shivers across her skin. She wished they were alone. She wanted to climb onto his lap, straddle his hips and feel his cock slide deep into her wet pussy. She licked her lips, her heart pounding in her chest. The corner of his mouth turned upward, a small smirk that told her he knew what she was thinking.

  Tentatively, she placed a hand on his knee and hoped the others were either not paying attention or would assume she was merely checking him for injuries.

  He brought his hand, calloused and rough, over hers. He held it there a moment too long, his deep brown eyes locked onto hers, before he moved her hand aside gently. “I’m fine, Sergeant.” He used his gruff, professional soldier’s voice, but his eyes sparkled, a secret look meant only for her. The heat she felt had nothing to do with the desert sun or the bodies packed into the back of the rattling truck.

  His balls tightened.

  Glancing down at her hand on his knee, fingers splayed across his thigh, Tony gritted his teeth when she began prodding softly against his muscle, presumably looking for injuries. He tensed and caught her hand in his before her touch could wander farther.

  “I’m fine, Sergeant.” His voice was low and demanding. If she continued to touch him, even in a clinical, nonsexual way, he didn’t think he could refrain from touching her back. Holding her gaze, he imagined her leaning forward, those pouty pink lips parting, her tongue darting toward the head of his cock. His dick stirred.

  She held his gaze for a moment, and Tony wondered if she saw the desire in his eyes. She arched a slender blonde eyebrow, blue eyes searching his. He kept his gaze on her as she nodded once and moved to her own seat. Watching Laura, he thought of things he wanted to do to her, the ways he wanted to take her. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander to sinful fantasies. His cock hardened; his balls grew painfully tight. Gritting his teeth, he looked out the back of the truck, watching the desert stretch endlessly into the distance. So long as he didn’t meet her eyes, then maybe his case of blue balls would go away.

  He doubted it.

  The ride back to camp was blessedly uneventful, only the sound of the soldiers’ gear jostling and Briggs’s occasional groans of pain breaking the silence. It was good to be in civilization. Or as close to civilization as base got, anyway.

  Laura spared him a quick glance as she was rushed toward the hospital unit. Of course she’d want to check on the soldier she’d been treating.

  Damn it.

  He’d meant to pull her aside and ask her when she’d have a spare moment for a quick fuck.

  Tony didn’t mind rubbing one off, but the thought of thrusting his cock into her wet pussy was a hundred times more enticing than a bottle of lotion and his right hand.

  Someone ahead of him barked orders. Thoughts of Laura pushed aside, he stood at attention with the rest of the men from the truck. He knew the routine. They would be sent to the hospital unit to be checked for injuries. The thought brought a smile to his lips. Maybe he could find Laura and ask her about a rendezvous after all.

  At the hospital, Tony was ushered into a room. After a long wait a medic came in, checked him for injuries and left. He sighed and sank down on the bed. He wondered how long it would take for the doc to come back and clear him to leave. He wanted to find Laura.

  She found him first.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, entering his room.

  “Tired, but I’ll live. A few cuts and a couple of bruises.” He estimated that it had been almost five hours since he had pulled Laura out of that nightmare. Since the grenade had been thrown. It was a miracle they’d escaped with only minor injuries. “You?”

  She smiled, her blue eyes softening. Her hand was cool and smooth as she placed it over his. “I’m fine. A little sore but nothing a little R&R can’t cure.” Laura cleared her throat, her hand withdrawing.

  Tony watched as her features changed. The small, secretive smile becoming a thin, tight line. He recognized the change. She wasn’t Laura, the woman he was sleeping with. She was Sergeant Hayes, the combat medic checking in on the soldiers she’d treated in the field. Though she hadn’t treated him, he was glad to see her. She’d showered, and he was envious. Her face was fresh and clean, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She’d changed out of her ACUs and into a pair of green scrubs. The thin cotton material hinted at her feminine curves. He knew she was tanned and toned with a neatly trimmed nest of dark gold curls at the apex of her thighs.

  He watched as she flipped through his chart—everyone in the truck had been admitted to the hospital to ensure no serious, hidden physical damage had been done. He thought it was stupid, but even he couldn’t go against a doctor’s orders.

  “Doc says you’re free to go,” she said, setting the clipboard down at the foot of the bed.

  He stood, gaze darting toward the door of his room. She had closed it. Good. Clever girl. His earlier fantasies clouded his mind. He had to have her.

  He looked back to Laura. “Sergeant Hayes.”

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant?” she asked, pressing her lips together.

  Was she hiding a smile?

  “When can I see you?” Straight and to the point. No bullshitting with Laura. She didn’t like small talk any more than he did. He liked that about her.

  “You’re seeing me right now, Staff Sergeant.”

  She was teasing him.

  He took two steps, crossing the short distance between them. The faint scent of Ivory soap and shampoo taunted him. Tantalized him with fantasies of tasting her clean skin. Her gaze lifted, looking up at him from beneath dark lashes.

  With one hand, he cupped the nape of her neck, wishing her hair was loose and he could tangle his fingers in the silky tresses. His lips descended on hers, the kiss rough and ravenous.

  She backed into the wall with a gasp, her tongue probing his.

  His cock was rock hard in seconds. With his free hand, he grasped her breast, massaging it with his fingers.

  “Tony,” she whispered between kisses. “Not here, Tony.”

  With a growl and a string of muttered curses, he pulled his mouth away from hers and stepped back. Sh
e was right. He was a higher rank, and their relationship could be seen as fraternization. Neither he nor Laura wanted to deal with the paperwork that came with wanting to reveal their relationship. They’d agreed to keep their meetings secret. Fucking on a hospital bed was out of the question.

  He was insatiable. She loved that about him.

  Her lips tingled, remembering the feel of his mouth on hers, hot and hungry.

  If the door had a lock she might have let him take her right then and there. But the hospital was too risky. Although they were technically within their rights to pursue a relationship, the military was funny about such things. Sexual relationships on deployments were frowned upon. To avoid the headache, she and Tony shared many stolen kisses and quickies in closets.

  However, the aching need building between her legs told Laura that a quickie wasn’t going to cut it. Not this time.

  “Are they really making you work so soon after?” he asked in that gruff masculine voice of his.

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. I was debriefed and given a ninety-six. I really wanted a shower and the hospital is closer than my barracks. Plus,” she added, her gaze falling to his lips briefly, “I wanted to see you.”

  A half-truth. She’d wanted to check on her wounded soldier, first. The doctors had saved his leg and the soldier had thanked her. It was only after checking on him that she thought to find Tony.

  “Laura,” Tony groaned, his voice ragged.

  “I know,” she said quietly. The ache was a dull throb, still demanding the feel of his hard shaft and the sweet relief of an orgasm.

  “Meet me at my barracks in two hours.”

  She blinked. Their base had more amenities than most, and Tony shared his room with one other soldier. Even if he could manage time in his room alone, there was no good reason for a female to be wandering around an all-male barracks. The harassment and mortification of other men whistling and catcalling wouldn’t bother her, but if anyone recognized her or saw her slip into Tony’s room alone…