Read Own (Command Force Alpha #1) for Free Online Page B

that mouth . And ride him— those tits .
    “Coming?”
    Goddamn.
    Evan jerked free of his fantasy only to find its origin standing by his front door with her arms crossed. Now she was doing it on purpose. The pose intentionally plumped her breasts. Swells of gorgeous flesh decorated with red lace lifted and lowered with every breath. The pace of those breaths increased as he devoured her with his eyes. His other four senses were completely wasted.
    Not for much longer.
    As Evan advanced—striding, with tense purpose—her scant, teasing smile dropped along with her arms. She backed against the wood siding, eyes wide. He kept her backpack slung over one shoulder but shrugged from under her duffle. It landed with a hollow thump on the porch. In the distance, a flock of Canadian geese took flight, honking their displeasure. He didn’t care. Instead he leaned near enough to inhale the fresh, lavender scent of her hair. His nose brushed against the silky strands. He could hear her breath now. That meant four out of five senses. Much better.
    He’d taste her before morning. He had hours to make it happen.
    Evan cursed himself and found the house key. After grabbing the luggage, he shoved inside without ceremony. Had Katsu not caught the screen door, it would’ve smacked closed behind him. He didn’t care and he really, really cared. None of what he felt had a place during the days to come, but he didn’t seem to have a choice. Those feelings—feelings he’d thought manageable, if not gone—were back in force.
    There was only one cure for moments when he began losing control. He took that control back.
    He didn’t slam her bags onto the floor, but that was because he had excellent mastery of his muscles. He wanted to slam. He wanted to take. Days since Minsk. Nine months since beginning the search. And an entire year since last seeing Laurie Madigan. The tension was beginning to strip Evan of his civilian manners. He was as tense as if he’d never escaped that mission, as if he still knelt over his fallen mentor, waiting for their rescue chopper to get them the fuck out of Belarus.
    He kept his gaze dead square on Katsu. “Unpack,” he said, his jaw tight. “All of it.”
    “Since when do you—?”
    “You forget, I saw the suitcase you packed for Harvard. It was so neat that the edges of each shirt barely touched. I bet that,” he said, nodding to the vintage Marine Corps duffle, “is a wreck.”
    Katsu Stafford was a short woman. She didn’t act like one. She stared up at him, arms crossed again, daring him to take his eyes from her stubborn, gorgeous face. He knew what tempting feast she was luring him to indulge. Her cleavage probably looked so good that he’d be hard in seconds. He couldn’t afford to get dizzy that quick, not standing toe-to-toe with an opponent like Kat.
    “You’re thinking about…” she drew out each word and even traced a red-lacquered nail along his forearm’s most prominent muscle, “…bras tangled with itty-bitty lace thongs. You’re thinking about how I shoved my nightgown between two pairs of jeans. That pretty silk…all wrinkled. Little round pack of birth control pills buried in there somewhere.”
    Evan stepped away from her. Just one step. He took up the duffle and backpack, grabbing her wrist. Upstairs to the half-loft and down the hallway, he flipped on the light to the guestroom where she’d spend the night. He let her go, unzipped the duffle and toppled all the contents onto the floor. Had it not been for the large wool area rug, bottles of makeup and perfume might have shattered. Some rolled under the queen-sized bed. The unmistakable shell pink of the birth control prescription she’d mentioned fetched up against the bottom of the dresser. He dropped the backpack on the bed, aware it probably contained her computer.
    She gasped. Her scowl was epic. “What the hell? You made a joke, and then I made a joke. You don’t have to go all Captain Bullshit on