Cherry Hill 16 - Spies Don't Fall In Love

Dixie Lynn Dwyer

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Cherry Hill 16: Spies Don’t Fall In Love

Genesis was a spy, and now she is trying to live a normal life and
put the past behind her.
She doesn't trust easily, and surely isn't ready to fall in love like most
of her new friends are doing.

She's fine with that and used to being alone.

So when she meets four soldiers who make her feel things she never
felt before, she's pretty resistant but willing to have some fun.

With no strings attached, it makes for some hot and heavy

encounters, and she's game. But the more time they spend together,
the more they want from her and she wants, too. Being in a ménage
changes her perspective on life and love, and she's willing to let
down that guard and let them in. But her secret past must remain
just that, a secret. So when their lives are in jeopardy while on a
mission, she uses her connections to save them and it costs her
everything.

In saving her men it makes her become a bargaining tool as she is

sold to the man who once held her captive for information on
terrorist leaders to help with an election. As she suffers the wrath of
her greatest enemy, her lovers rummage through the information
thinking the worst, until the true revelation of her disappearance is
exposed. Now her soldiers must rescue her before it's too late.

Genres: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense

Length: 38,105

CHERRY HILL 16:

SPIES DON'T FALL IN LOVE

Dixie Lynn Dwyer

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

Cherry Hill 16: Spies Don't Fall In Love

Copyright © 2019 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

ISBN: 978-1-64243-889-5

First Publication: July 2019

Cover design by Les Byerley

All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be

reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without
express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this

copyrighted work is illegal.

Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without

monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to
5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or
shared illegally, please let us know at
legal@sirenbookstrand.com

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHERRY HILL 16:

SPIES DON'T FALL IN LOVE

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Epilogue
CHERRY HILL 16:

SPIES DON'T FALL IN LOVE

DIXIE LYNN DWYER

Copyright © 2019

Prologue

“Oh shit, why are you calling me?” Genesis asked, holding her cell
phone to her ear as she quickly headed out of the bakeshop. She
was in town picking up some cookies and goodies for Emerson
before visiting her.

“Someone came into headquarters looking for you,” Seager told her.
Her heart instantly began to pound in her chest. She left that life,
that career two years ago. Two full years and it seemed like her
disappearing had worked to get these scum bags off her ass.

“Who specifically? What do you got, Seager?” she asked him, and
kept looking around to be sure no one was within earshot.

“A guy working under Kent Mogen’s command. He had no qualms

about identifying himself.”

“Please tell me that no one divulged my location? I’m out of that

scene. For good, Seager.”

“I know you are, but Mogen is persistent. You’re superb at what you
do. One of the best agents the organization’s ever had. So good,
that one phone call and you’d be instantly reinstated.”

“Yeah, no thanks. Nearly dying by the hands of a terrorist asshole

who imprisoned me for six months is definitely not the kind of job I’d
like to partake in again. It’s amazing I’m alive, never mind not in
counseling. Mogen should stick to politics. He was always better at
that anyway. Now what’s the deal? You have to have more for me
than just this guy snooping.”

“Oh, you know it doesn’t end there. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten
a call from Burbank yet,”

Seager told her. She felt as if her heart fell to her gut. “What?” she
asked, and her throat went dry. If her commander called, then
something huge was happening and they could need her. She was
done.

Absolutely done.

“Yeah, there’s some crazy shit going on and the unit is on the brink
of chaos right now. They lost their inside informants. Three of them,
and several soldiers, Genesis. Gable was one of the ones who was
killed.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh God no. No,” she said as
tears filled her eyes. Gable was a good friend. Hell, beyond a good
friend. They’d shared some lonely nights together when their jobs
crossed and they had the time to enjoy the company.

“I’m sorry.”

“Who did it?”

“No one is saying specifically who, but there are ties to Volchen and
Kasmul.”

“Are you freaking serious? What the hell is a Russian asshole doing
communicating with a Middle Eastern terrorist?”

“That’s the million dollar question, and it seems like maybe, my

guess would be the informant found out and they were identified
and taken out.”
“Why would Burbank contact me? Why would someone working for
that slimeball Kent Morgan come around dropping my name or try to
contact me? I’m out. Been out and I’m not going back in.

Send in some Special Forces guys and take them out.”

“Yeah, it’s a little more complicated than that. Plus, they recently did
send some men in, and out of six, only two made it out and word is
they may not make it anyway. Their injuries are life-threatening.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“They could be trying to feel you out, see if you would be willing to
do intel. Maybe because they know how close you were to Gable.”

“Typical, them trying to use emotions, bonded friendships to get a

reaction. Well, I’m not biting.

Seager, don’t let on to where I am or how to contact me. It’s taken a

lot to put that life behind me, and to move on after what I went
through.”

“I’m giving you the heads up. You do know they can find you if they
wanted to.”

“There was a promise made, and I don’t expect to hear from

Burbank or anyone else in the operation unit, unless that Middle
Eastern asshole is still looking for me, and Burbank is ready to
provide more protection.”

“Or they might need your connections, and the Middle Eastern guy’s
interest in you still to help bait him.”

“That isn’t going to happen. I barely got out of there. I have no

more connections. They were severed and destroyed the moment I
escaped and disappeared. I need to go. Stay safe.”
“You, as well. Just remember, I warned you, and I’ll always have
your back,” he said, and ended the call.

She put down her phone, shoved it into her purse, and took a few
deep breaths to try and clear her head. There was no way the
commander and the team wanted to place her back in. No way
when she barely got out alive. Debriefing took weeks, therapy,
counseling, over a year. The last several months felt normal. Like she
was finally set in her new life. Her life as an agent was over. She was
twenty-eight, could pass for much younger, and that youthful look
helped her snag the enemy’s attention and draw him in. She
shivered just thinking about Kasmul. He should be dead, or at
minimum, locked up and his entire business operation destroyed, but
he wasn’t. He was alive and well, and all charges dropped. She
barely got out of there and that prick got off scot-free. Why?

Because he sold information to the US government. Information that

brought down bigger terrorist assholes. The government’s promise
to her, the organization’s promise, was that she was free to leave the
agency, the special operations unit and have a new life, under a new
name and in a safe location.

They were never going to contact her again, or ask her to use her
computer abilities, her connections, or her body again.

She gulped and felt that ache in her core. She had played her role to
the fullest. At first, she was a bit naïve. She thought that maybe the
government had things all wrong. That maybe Kasmul was just the
money behind some of the terrorist operations. That he provided a
means of transporting weapons throughout the country by using his
shipping containers and routes. A shrewd businessman getting a
piece of the action to turn the other way. That had been the initial
evaluation, however, once she was undercover, on the inside and
getting to know Kasmul, she realized he had a heavier role in
operations and was definitely part of the regime.
He was a handsome man, charismatic in so many ways, and
egotistical, too. She kept her distance romantically from him for as
long as she could. Her services were importing and exporting, her
way into his world, and into the corridor of elaborate gatherings,
celebrations and networking of a different kind. She gained insight
into their world, made connections, negotiated informants, and
ultimately gained Kasmul’s full attention. When her government
decided it was time to strike, she was caught in the crossfire,
snagged by Kasmul’s men, which then identified six other individuals
that the U.S. government didn’t have on their radar before. A
complete mess, and she was left behind. Left as a prisoner to
Kasmul as he realized she had played some part, some role in the
infiltration of his friends’ businesses. It was a war zone for weeks.
Military operations underway, soldiers being killed, and the news
probably never made it to U.S. soil. No, in that life, in that position,
you were expendable. When you died, no one knew a thing. When
you needed rescuing, you were left to fend for yourself. If you lived,
survived, it was by your own means. She did that. She survived, and
it cost her big time.

She looked toward the park and around the town of Cherry Hill. A
sanctuary, apart from the haunting memories of the past life she led.
The lover, the possession of a terrorist like Kasmul, scarred her body
for life. She was not free to leave, but only to succumb to his
command, or die by the knife he held to her throat. By the threats
he made to her life, to those she knew were still somewhere close
by, and she had hoped were waiting to save her. That rescue
operation took months.

Nearly six, and a part of her died back there. But her true identity, a
spy, an undercover operative, a U.S. military undercover soldier was
never exposed.

She clenched her teeth. Burbank knew that. Kent Morgan knew that,
too. They were so willing to set her up with a shit load of money, a
new identity, and now she knew why. To keep her in their back
pocket in case they needed her abilities, her connections again. Two
years had passed. Two years of pretending to be someone she
wasn’t. A new person with a new life. She was Genesis Parker,
waitress, twenty-something-year-old who was living life single, free,
and getting by on her own. She avoided relationships,
confrontations, and anything in between that could threaten to
reveal her true identity. She thought about that night a few weeks
ago when Emerson’s ex-boyfriend had confronted her at that bar. It
had taken a lot of self-control to not do more. It all worked out, and
she couldn’t reveal her martial arts and military capabilities. At least
not fully.

She closed her eyes and exhaled, then got pissed off as Kasmul
popped into her head. He was a dangerous man. A manipulative,
deceiving, wealthy businessman, who was also capable of extreme
violence and deception. He gave the U.S. government some useful
information to make them dismiss what he had done to her. What he
had done to assist those terrorists, and he would do it again.

Everything was a game to him, including life itself. The government

didn’t care though. Her body was a weapon, a means of weakening
Kasmul’s resolve to not cooperate. She suffered his wrath in times of
anger and when he was pushed into a corner by men who were
supposed to save her from harm, but instead used her as a
negotiating tool. She was working every angle. Using her resources,
and a few very deeply imbedded agents to help plan her escape.
She did what she had to do to make Kasmul give her space. When
she got her chance, she took it.

She forced the morbid thoughts out of her head and focused back
on her life now. Of the woman she was, the scars she bared and
carried with her. She didn’t need to think about these things any
longer. This was her new life, and the past was exactly that. The
past.

****
“Take some time with your team and regroup,” Stone told Zedock
over the satellite phone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Six men were lost, the other two are
going to die. That’s eight special operations men killed out there,
and you want us to go on a vacation?” Zedock yelled into the radio.

“Yeah, I want you to regroup while I work with the proper channels
to get new intel and make some plans. It’s going to take time. This
was one hell of a fuck up and the next operation needs to be as
foolproof as it can be.”

“We’re ready to go in. We can take that asshole and the entire
operation out.”

“Oh yeah? Gable and the guys were pretty fucking sure about the
operation too and look what happened to them. Besides that,
Zedock, we need to get names and locations of those other cells. No
one was able to retrieve that information, and that is our
government’s top priority. Not revenge for killing eight American
soldiers. That will come later. Be patient. Go see Louis, Vought,
Worin, and Hunt. They have plenty of room on their ranch. It could
be some time before the plan comes to fruition. Plus, what info I
was given, there may be an agent nearby and so it will make
communications easier for you guys if and when that time comes.”

“So we sit around and soften up, get our heads out of the game? No
way, Stone. Send us on something else.”

“No can do. I want you all well rested and your heads straight.
Because when I call you to go in, it’s going to be dangerous. I won’t
do it unless the information comes from the highest sources and is
confirmed and backed accordingly.”

“Fuck,” Zedock said, and exhaled.

“Do it. That’s an order,” Stone commanded, and ended the call.
Zedock looked at his team, his brothers in arms. “Well, this fucking
sucks. To feel this antsy, to want to go in and fucking slit those
fuckers’ throats, but instead we go visit our friends?” Freeman stated
in annoyance.

They were all dirty and a bit battered. Too far away from the
situation to even try and pretend they got lost and went the wrong
way. It would be suicide to go in there at this point. Denzel ran his
fingers through his hair.

“You think they actually will organize a plan of attack? Another way
to infiltrate these terrorist assholes?” Denzel asked Zedock.

“I don’t fucking know. It’s always hard to read Stone’s tone over the
phone. I don’t think he would pretend any promises though. We
were all pretty close. All part of this specialized unit,”

Zedock told him.

“I fucking hope we get that revenge. God knows we’ve done some
crazy off the wall shit over the years. This situation though, it
doesn’t sit right with me. The double-crossing, the way the
government, our government, is so willing to forget about eight
soldiers’ lives and others, just to gain some information. I’m getting
tired of this shit. Of all of it,” Mills added, and the team mumbled in
agreement.

“Well, we got our orders. I’ll get in touch with Louis and them. They
only got into town a couple of days ago. I’ll make sure we aren’t in
their way,” Zedock said.

“They retired. They’re all finally out after bringing back Worin and
Hunt,” Freeman said.

“We all thought Worin and Hunt were dead. It’s amazing they
survived what they did. Their team is together and retiring together.
One day that will be us, too.”
“Unless we get fucking killed with one of these fuck-ups,” Mills said.

“We never worried about getting killed before, so why would we

now? These are our lives, so unless you all decide you want to throw
in the towel and not bring justice to Gable and the other soldiers’
families, then we need to suck up those thoughts and prepare for
that revenge. It will come, and once that mission is over, we’ll decide
what’s next for us,” Zedock said, and they all agreed.

****

Sheriff Kane McCabe smiled as Athena hugged her brother Louis’s

arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was so happy
that her brothers Louis and Voight, as well as Worin and Hunt, their
best friends and part of their team, were retiring in Cherry Hill. They
had purchased a parcel of land that had multiple houses on it and
one huge one that could accommodate twelve. It was set up as a
ranch and horse stables, with accommodations for ranch hands and
helpers quarters. Their intention was to bring in some of their fellow
soldiers who were retiring or were between missions.

“So any questions about the town?” Athena asked as Louis squinted
and then seemed to be staring at something behind the sheriff. One
glance behind him, and Kane saw Faith.

Athena gave a wave to Faith and Faith looked back and waved, but
then looked at Louis who immediately turned away. Kane found it
pretty interesting. Louis and Voight only got into town a few days
ago, and it seemed Faith snagged their attention. He kept his
observations to himself as Louis got a phone call.

“I need to take this.”

“Go ahead. We’re going to head to the café,” Athena told Louis who
wouldn’t be joining them.
He and his team were still transitioning into civilian life, and they
weren’t up for socializing quite yet.

****

“Hey, Zedock, how’s it going?” Louis asked as he stood by the bench

in town and watched the pretty, petite blonde he definitely found
attractive.

“We need a place to recoup and rest up for a bit. Stone

recommended your place in Texas.”

“Sure thing. We’re still just moving in, so you may need to do a little
cleaning, but definitely have the room. Everything good?”

“Need you ask?”

“Shit. Well, head on over to the place. I’ll send you the address. How
long before you arrive?”

“Twelve hours.”

“Got it. See you then.”

Louis ended the call and then texted the address to their place, even
though Zedock and the guys probably already had it from Stone. It
had only been a few months since Lois and his brother Voight were
able to go in and assist rescuing Worin and Hunt. They had thought
their best friends were dead.

Thank God they weren’t, but what a fucking shithole they had to go
in to assist in their rescue. It was going to take some time for their
buddies to readjust to things. Louis couldn’t help but view this town
like he had viewed Pearl. It was similar in so many ways, and
ultimately provided men and women with a safe place to live, to
even start families. Could those things be in store for their future, as
well? Louis wasn’t certain, but seeing what his sister Athena had
with her men, and knowing only somewhat of what she had gone
through, anything seemed possible. With one last glance toward the
bakery where the cute blonde walked to, he smiled to himself. Now
wasn’t the time to consider any type of relationship, but sometime in
the future? Definitely.

He decided that he should hit the supermarket and get enough food
for the next several days for all of them. There would be eight men
in the house, all with huge appetites. He hoped Zedock and them
were okay. Zedock didn’t really give him time to ask about their
condition or even for how long they wanted to stay. Maybe it was
better to just open the door and let them in. Leave the rest to fate.

****

“Is everything set up?” Kent Morgan asked Burbank.

“As set up as it can be without making it obvious what our intentions

are,” Burbank replied.

“Don’t worry about it. Those soldiers all rely on one another and it
won’t be seen as anything but coincidental that Zedock and his team
wind up in Cherry Hill where Jeanine Ray is.”

“That’s Genesis Parker, Kent, remember?” Burbank said in

annoyance.

“Of course I do. Genesis is an asset like no other. I know she’s

resistant, and from what Seager said, she definitely isn’t willing to
come back to help us, so we need to plan accordingly. It may not be
her choice, ultimately.”

“I’m getting that feeling, too, but after recent events it’s better we
lay low for a while. This takes time to coordinate and we have to be
sure the end result is not only worth it, but almost guaranteed,”

Burbank replied.
“It will be. When the time is right, the negotiator will go and finalize
the plan. Then we’ll know exactly who will be sent in, and what it
will cost us.”

“Okay then, let’s sit tight and let things just happen.”

“Keep me posted, Burbank, if there are further updates. The bosses

want results, and they want concrete validation they can use to
influence those they need to influence.”

“You stick to the politics of this shit, Kent, and I’ll handle the military
aspect,” Burbank replied.

Kent chuckled. “Very well. Talk to you soon.”

Kent ended the call and looked at Mitch Sloan. “Your inside guy is
sure to keep this deal on the down-low, right? I don’t need this
coming back to bite me in the ass or affect the senator and his
reelection,” Kent Morgan said to Mitch.

“I’m sure. Believe me, you’ve enticed him, and he’s considering
things.”

“Well, I hope he considers them quickly, or his demise will be out of

my control and in the hands of some very angry, vengeful Special
Forces operatives. Getting away with killing eight American soldiers
is not a tale told often.”

“He knows, and he appreciates what has been done to try and
alleviate any further issues with that,” Mitch told Kent.

“Good. We’ll work things out on our end as soon as he agrees to the
terms. I’ll then call Burbank so he can negotiate further and then set
things up as agreed upon.”

“I can’t believe he would be willing to negotiate over this. It’s that

important to him?” Mitch asked.
“Obviously it is. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

Mitch nodded.

Chapter 1

Genesis sprinted along the open grassy area before the trail that led
through the woods. It was lush and a little difficult to get through,
but that was part of the appeal. Obstacles. She liked having to
maneuver around them, through them, and into the clearing. As she
jumped one of the long logs across the path and then had to zig to
the right then zag to the left, she heard the crackling of tree
branches and slowed her pace. Another runner came into view, but
just barely. Dressed in black camo pants and a black T-shirt, she
noticed him stop short. She kept going, not recognizing the guy, who
was still at a good distance to the right when she heard more
branches breaking and then two more men were there.

In a panic, her brain running to conclusions especially after the odd

phone call from Seager a few weeks ago already, she hurried toward
the clearing. Just as she neared the end of that trail, another guy
ran across the entryway of the clearing and made a sound, a bird
call. She realized they were all together and she figured the others
were farther behind her now, so only this guy stood in the way of
escaping. As she approached the clearing and jumped over debris,
her shoelace caught on the edge of the branch, causing her to trip
and drag the branch with her as she fell to the ground with a thump.
“Oh.” She gasped when using her hands didn’t break her fall, and
instantly she felt the burning to her knee, her elbow and shoulder as
she landed awkwardly against the rocks and dirt.

“Oh crap, are you okay?” She heard the deep voice and slowly
started to move when footsteps pounding against the ground
echoed from behind her. “What did you do, trip her, Freeman?” a
man said.
“Fuck no, she tripped, I think. I don’t know. I was just running past
the entryway to the trail when I caught a glimpse of her,” the other
guy said, who now bent down.

“Are you okay?” a third firm voice asked, and she looked up to see
the four men surrounding her. Four military men, that was certain,
and boy were they a sight. Camouflage pants, tight T-shirts, muscles
upon muscles. When one reached out to assist her up, she pulled
back. “I got it,” she snapped at him, and went into a pushup
position.

“You’re bleeding on your elbow pretty good,” one said to her. As she
maneuvered to her feet, she felt the large, warm hand on her hip.

“Jesus, your knee is cut up good. Anything else hurt?” the one guy
asked, and he didn’t release her. She tried moving but he held firm.

She felt like an idiot. And to boot, the men were good looking, and
had seen her trip like a klutz.

“I can’t believe I freakin’ fell. My lace caught on the branch,” she

said.

“This one I assume. It doesn’t seem to want to let you go,” the one
fierce guy said, as he detached the branch that was still connected
to her shoelace.

“I don’t either,” the other guy who had his hand on her hips said and
winked at her. She rolled her eyes and then stepped from his hold.

“I’m Mills,” the guy who removed the tree branch introduced himself.

“Genesis. Sorry to stop you from your run. I’ll be fine.” She started
to dust off her thighs that were covered with dirt; blood dripped
from her knee and even from her elbow. When she felt the hand on
her arm and then the really big, quiet guy take her hand, she
tightened up and gasped.
“Your shoulder is bleeding, too,” he said, and stroked along her skin.
Now they were all looking at her body, the way her tank top dipped
low and was ripped, too. It was hanging there against her sports bra
and revealing way too much.

“Damn it!” she exclaimed, and tried lifting the tank top by the strap
to tuck it into the strap of her sports bra. As she fixed the other side,
she felt the tank top raise and now her belly was exposed.

“Need some help?” the one guy asked, sliding his palm along her
hip, staring at her pretty intensely. She was annoyed because she
felt an attraction to them, but who wouldn’t? They were a force that
was for sure, but also flirty. She wasn’t easy, despite the definite
attraction she felt to them.

She stepped to the side, wiped the blood from her knee and flung
the blood on her hand to the ground, then used her tank top to wipe
her elbow.

“Well, take care,” she said, and started to walk. “Whoa, where are
you going?” Mills asked her.

“Finishing my run. Again, sorry to have interrupted yours,” she said,

and as she went to walk, he touched her hand.

“Are you parked nearby? How far do you need to run before you’re
someplace you can clean up those cuts?” he asked with concern.

“Oh, not far. Don’t worry, these are nothing. Thanks for the help,
Mills, and…well the rest of you, too,” she said, and gave a soft smile.

“I’m Freeman, this is Denzel, and that’s Zedock,” Freeman

introduced.

“Nice to meet you,” she said to them.

“So how far do you need to go?” Mills asked her.

“A few miles.”

“A few miles?” Freeman asked, looking surprised.

“It will be fine. I can assure you.”

“You live in Cherry Hill?” Denzel asked her, and she looked at him. All
four men sported dark hair.

Denzel’s looked almost black and they had different shades of eye
colors. Denzel’s was dark blue. Zedock had dark brown hair and
green eyes. Freeman’s were light brown, and he had very short
brown hair. Mills had dirty blonde hair and light green eyes. They all
had a lot of muscles and even tattoos.

“I do. What about you guys? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here
before.”

“We’re pretty new to town. Been here a month and staying with
friends.”

“Nice. Well, if you want to venture out, there’s a cool bar called
Harper’s, in town. Tonight is fight night. The owner gets the fights
for free, and it’s broadcasted on all the flat screen TV’s. Not bad for
a Thursday evening,” she said.

“You hang out there?” Mills asked her.

“I work there, as a waitress and sometimes bartend, but mostly

barmaid. Anyway, it’s a fun place and a lot of other soldiers hang out
there, too, so I’m sure you’ll feel right at home.”

“Interesting, maybe we will check it out,” Mills said as he gazed over

her body.

She chuckled at his flirtatious comment. These men were seasoned,

a bit older, probably closer to forty, but they were definitely active
duty. She could tell. They each had that stone hard look in their
eyes. The eyes of killers. She knew that look well. “If you do, I’ll buy
the first round.”

“Why, when obviously we scared you sneaking up on you like we

did, and you got hurt?”

Freeman asked her.

“It wasn’t intentional. Usually no one wants to deal with the obstacle
courses of the woods over here. Normally, I don’t trip,” she said and
winked. Her casual response seemed to lure them in more with
interest. She could tell, and holy cow was she feeling interested, as
well. Two years without sex definitely made her horny.

“Well, I need to go. Got to be at work in just a couple of hours.

Maybe I’ll see ya around.”

“Take care,” Mills said.

As she walked toward the exit of the path, she glanced over her
shoulder, and sure enough they were watching her. She couldn’t help
but blush. Those four big ass hotties would definitely be worth
jumping back into the saddle again for. Well, the sack, she thought
and laughed to herself as she began to run, ignoring the pain in her
knee, her elbow and shoulder just in case they were still watching.
She may have come across as a klutz, but surely she didn’t want to
come across as weak.

****

“Holy shit, she was hot, huh?” Mills asked as they watched her
disappear across the field of grass.

“You were pretty obvious about your attraction to her,” Freeman

teased him, and gave his arm a nudge as they started to head back
through the woods.
“Some body on her, too, didn’t you guys think so?” Mills asked.

“Be careful, Mills. You do know how they run things around Cherry
Hill. Louis and them warned us,” Denzel said, and then rubbed his
jaw.

“Let’s continue on our run,” Zedock ordered, and Mills stood there a
moment as the rest of the team began to run.

That woman, Genesis, was a knockout, and by the way the rest of
the team responded, it seemed he wasn’t the only one interested in
seeing her again. As he started to run along with them, he thought
about that place Harper’s and whether or not it would be worth it to
go by there. He could ask Louis and Voight. They might be
interested, and they knew more people around town. Their sister
Athena was a beauty and then some. Also taken by the sheriff and
his brothers. Seemed that was the way things went down in this
town. If it weren’t for their need for revenge against those scum
bags that killed Gable and his team, Mills might seriously try talking
Zedock into commanding them all to retire and settle down here.
Wouldn’t that be something?

As they ran along the outskirts of the football field then back toward
their place, he thought more about Genesis. Who she was, if she
was single, and why she was running through the woods alone?

His concern grew faster than his attraction for her. He had to remind
himself that he wasn’t a member of Cherry Hill, but a visitor. Let the
sheriff and deputies handle that shit. He just thought the woman
was gorgeous, and he wouldn’t mind getting to know her. Or maybe,
get up close and personal to that sexy body. No, that didn’t seem
right to think of her as a sexual partner. She definitely had
commitment written all over her. Hell, she could be inexperienced,
too. Jesus, he was pushing fucking forty. What woman in her
twenties would even want more than just to screw a capable soldier
like him? And his team? As he thought about that, he thought about
their conversations while they were in the field. Following their
friends’ footsteps and sharing a woman. It made sense. Where one
of them lacked, another one prevailed, but they were all even.
Finding a woman who could put up with their dominant
personalities, ornery ways, and commands was an entirely different
story though. What the fuck am I thinking? He cleared his head and
hurried to catch up with the others.

****

“That’s him, Genesis. Right there, the navy blue button-down shirt,
rolled to his elbows. Oh God, he is intimidating, and gorgeous, and
oh God, my heart is racing.” Faith rambled to Genesis as she leaned
into her and against the bar. Genesis took a peek and was shocked
to see Mills with him.

Her initial thought was that Faith was attracted to the same guy
Genesis had been attracted to. God knew these men around here
walked around as teams or brothers, or whatever.

“Oh God, Faith, the one next to him, is he a brother, or team

member to the guy you have on your radar?” Genesis asked.

“I don’t know. I only know the one in the navy blue shirt. Shit, he’s
looking this way.” Faith quickly looked away.

Ade was there placing drinks on her tray “Something wrong with you
two?” he asked.

“Nope,” Genesis said, and took her tray of drinks and turned to head
to the table she was delivering them to. As she walked through the
crowd, she dropped off the tray of drinks, then took another order
from another table. Some guys stood up to leave and someone else
grabbed that table.

“Here you go, Genesis. Have a good night and we’ll see you
tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here, Lance. Take care, and again, I hope your mom is
feeling better,” she said to him.

“Thanks,” Lance said as he walked away.

She placed the tip into her apron pocket, and when she noticed the
table had new people there, she caught sight of Mill staring at her.
The other guy seemed to be looking for Faith. “Hey, how are you
doing, Genesis?” he asked, and his friend turned around and
checked her out. He gave a smile.

“I’m doing good, Mills. What can I get ya?” she asked.

“I’ll take a Murphy’s,” Mills said. “I’ll take one, too,” the other guy
said, and again he was looking away as if looking for someone.

Mills reached out and turned her arm. “How is your elbow?” he
asked, and then cringed as he looked at the damage.

She turned it to give him a better view. His friend looked. “Jesus,
that looks bad,” his friend said.

“This is Louis.”

“Nice to meet you, Louis, and it isn’t as painful as it looks. I think my

knee was worse. Hence the shorts tonight.”

Mills reached down and caressed her skin by the pink bandage she
was wearing. “Decorated it huh?” he asked.

“Well, I figured it needed something, and this is what my friend Faith

had on her in her car.”

“Faith, the blonde over there?” Louis asked.

“Yup, that’s her. Hmm,” Louis said, and didn’t take his eyes off of
Faith.
Genesis chuckled. “Well, let me go grab those beers.” She walked
away and felt Mills watching her. When she got to the bar, Faith was
trying to not look toward the table.

“Well? What do you think?” Faith asked.

“I think he’s as interested in you as you are in him.”

“Seriously? Oh God, I haven’t seen him close up. How much older is
he?”

“Older, Faith. His buddy, too.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry, just be your nice, friendly self.”

“What if they both hit on you?”

“Then we’ll know they’re a team and also players. Don’t worry, the
guy’s name is Louis, and he totally kept looking for you.”

“Oh God. Why am I shaking?”

“Because you finally found something that interests you. But be

careful. They are here alone. Not sure if they’re part of the same
team.”

“Well find out. Then we’ll know if we both don’t have a chance.”

“Who said I wanted one, Faith?”

“Honey, you’re looking at Mills as much as he is looking at you, and

you let him touch your arm and even your knee,” Faith said, and
gave her a sassy look.

Genesis chuckled. “Okay, let me see what I can find out.”

 ****

“So that’s the woman you guys met in the woods and made trip and
get hurt? Interesting,” Louis said to Mills. “Interesting? That’s all you
have to say?”

“She’s gorgeous, and friendly, and gives off a maturity that’s for
sure.”

“You think she’s too young? How old, if you had to guess?” Mills
asked.

“Twenty four.”

“Shit.” Louis chuckled. “Dude, look at the blonde? I’d be robbing the
fucking cradle big time,”

Louis said to Mills.

“You’re right. We both would be. It’s crazy that you don’t even know
the blonde, and never talked to her,” Mills said to him.

“Faith. Genesis said her name was Faith.”

“Well, you should talk to Faith. Maybe you’ll change your mind?”

“Doubt it,” Louis said, and Genesis was heading toward them. Mills
watched her as some guys stopped her. One placed his hand on her
hip as he gave her a drink order. She nodded and smiled, but as she
walked closer to their table, she noticed that guy staring at her ass
and then he said something to his buddies. They smiled, too.

“Okay, gentleman, here ya go.” She placed the Murphy’s down onto
the table.

“Thank you, Genesis,” Louis said to her.

“You’re welcome. Do you need anything else right now?”

“No, we’re good,” Mills said, and she smiled.

“Okay then, just wave me over when you’re ready for another
round.”

“Hey, you work every night?” Mills asked her. Her royal blue eyes
were absolutely stunning.

She had her jet black hair pulled into a long ponytail, and she filled
out the Harper’s tank top exceptionally well. She was good looking,
and he wasn’t the only guy noticing. Feeling like he couldn’t lose an
opportunity, he decided to strike up further conversation and see if
she felt the attraction, too.

“Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.”

“Well, if you don’t have plans Sunday, any way you’d be willing to
show me around town, introduce me to the best things Cherry Hill
has to offer?” Mills asked her.

“Just you and I?” she asked.

“Maybe the others that you met in the woods. They’re part of my
team. We’re staying with Louis and his team,” Mills told her, and she
nodded.

“Nice, well, I guess I could show you around. Did you see the signs
for the concert in the park?”

she asked, and rested the tray on her hip as she glanced around
them as if to be sure she wasn’t needed at any other tables.

Mills couldn’t help but hope she wasn’t needed there. She looked so
beautiful and her eyes did him in. He was staring at her.

“No, I don’t think he did see them,” Louis spoke up for him. She
chuckled. Mills reached out and took her wrist in his hand. He
stroked the inside with the pad of his thumb as he held her gaze.

“Your eyes are absolutely incredible darling.”

“Thank you. So, the event is a lot of fun. We could walk around
town. I’ll show you the cool places and then we can enjoy the
music?”

“Sounds perfect. Where do you live, and I can pick you up at your
place?” he asked.

“No need to. I’m volunteering to help set up for the book sale
they’re going to have outside the library. Why don’t you meet me by
the library at eleven? Is that good for you?”

“Sure thing.”

They stared at one another and then she smiled. “I need to check
on my tables. I’ll be back though.” He nodded, let her go, and she
walked away. He exhaled. Louis chuckled.

“You okay?”

Mills pursed his lips. “The fuck if I know. Jesus, she’s gorgeous,” he
said, and took a sip from his pint of Murphy’s.

Louis smiled. “Well, how do you think Zedock and the gang are
going to feel about the date you just planned?”

“They aren’t going to be interested in coming along.”

“Their loss.”

“We’ll see.”

****
“Well, what happened? Is Mills nice or what? You keep talking to
him,” Faith asked.

“Very nice, and also not part of Louis’s team. They’re all friends
though, and are staying together.”

“Hmm, are you sure?”

“Pretty much, because Mills just asked me out, well to show him
around town Sunday, and didn’t include Louis, but mentioned his
team, the guys I met in the woods.”

“Oh my God, that’s awesome,” Faith said, and then looked back at
the table.

“You want to bring over the other round of beers for them, to see if
Louis says something to you?

Or I can just introduce you?” Genesis said.

Faith shook her head. “I don’t want to come across as easy, you
know? If Louis is interested, then he’ll strike up a conversation with
me.”

“That’s smart. Okay, let me know if you change your mind,” Genesis
said, and then headed over to deliver more drinks, her mind now on
the potential date, and whether she really could have a normal
relationship. After all, her last lover was violent, abusive, and not out
of choice, but out of survival. Maybe she couldn’t let down her guard
and be intimate again? Maybe she should rethink this attraction and
taking a chance?

Chapter 2

“The election is less than six months away. I need major results. I
need exposure and concrete arrests here. Undercover operations,
agents working for the US government going into the danger zone
and retrieving information imperative to destroying terrorist cells are
big time votes. The people want to see terrorists being eliminated.
Actions of violence being stopped before it happens, or before it
reaches U.S. soil. Where are you at with that inside job you’re
working?” Senator Rangles asked Kent Mogen.

“It’s complicated.”

“That isn’t what I want to hear.”

“I know it isn’t, but considering the body count of recent events, it

may be wise to pull back a little and negotiate.”

“God damn it, Kent, you said you had this guy, had a sure thing. Are
you telling me that isn’t the case? That you lied, and that I should
have gone with Kelly on this?”

“Kelly is nothing. A nobody, and he claims to have connections, but

he doesn’t have anything.”

“He has an in with a certain individual that can make certain events
happen. Events that my department can find out about and stop
them. Now I want what you promised. You have two weeks, then I
give the job to Kelly.” Senator Rangles ended the call.

“Asshole,” Kent said, and then shook his head and clenched his
teeth. He really needed to move operations along. Maybe give a little
bone to entice the senator and keep him under Kent’s thumb. If Kent
pulled this off, he would be putting away a pretty penny for himself.
A payoff from Reynolds, one from Kasmul, and who gave a fuck
about collateral damage. It was a win-win situation. He had to be
smart here and really cover all his bases. Limiting who was kept in
the loop. He could do this. He picked up the burner phone and made
the call. “I need that small situation to take place a little sooner than
later. My intel says Volchen’s main supplier will be in the vicinity next
week. Thursday in person. Grab him, run him through the process,
make it look good. I need photos of the product, arrests, no faces,
and I’ll take care of the rest.”

He couldn’t help but smirk. Buying time and even creating usable
events was something he was pretty damn good at. Once this all
happened, he could send the details to the senator, keep him happy,
until the real deal happened. That was still a plan in the making, but
when it all went down, he would be one rich man, and the senator
would get reelected no problem. Who cares what it really cost the
American people, or even American soldiers?

****

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” Mills asked Zedock
and Denzel. Freeman was game, and he was looking forward to
getting to know Genesis.

“You’re foolish to be acting like we’re staying here permanently. We

can get the call at any time,” Zedock said to them.

“It’s been three weeks and counting, I doubt the call is coming, and
when it does, we’ll go do what we need to. I’m not missing this
opportunity, man. She’s gorgeous, friendly, and I like her. A lot,” Mills
said.

“Plus, she didn’t shy away when he mentioned all of us coming

along. That has potential for something,” Freeman said to them.

“Yeah, potential for trouble. You two think with the right heads. We
don’t need any additional aggravation,” Denzel added as he leaned
back against the doorframe of the kitchen with his arms crossed and
looking like he really wanted to go along.

“Listen, if you change your minds, we’ll be by the center of town

where there’s a concert going on. Come hang out. Check out the
town. It’s better than just sitting around here,” Freeman said, and
then he and Mills headed out of the house and made their way to
town.

Mills drove the truck, and instead of heading closer to the center of
town and the library, they parked by the park, where they could sit
on the back—maybe with Genesis—and enjoy the concert.

As they got a good spot up front, they saw the band setting up and
people putting out their chairs and blankets along the grass getting
ready to enjoy the event. “This is nice, huh?” Mills asked Freeman.

“A huge change from only a few weeks ago.”

“I know, man. It’s crazy when you think about it. How when we’re
on a mission it’s like we’re in a completely different world. We’re
risking our lives, dodging bullets, sucking in sand and dirt, and
meanwhile, this, right here, is going on,” Mills said, and Freeman
mumbled in agreement.

“Oh my God, there she is,” Mills said to Freeman.

Mills caught sight of Genesis immediately. She stood out in a flair

navy blue skirt, and blue and white tank top that accentuated her
large breasts. The white sweater she wore over it, currently hung off
her shoulder as she carried a box. Freeman and Mills got to her
quickly.

“You need help?” Freeman asked, coming up by the side of her to

take the box from her hands.

“Oh, thanks so much,” she said, pushing her long black hair behind
her ear and smiling at him, then at Mills.

“You look gorgeous, sweetie,” Mills said to her, sliding his arm
around her waist before he leaned down and kissed her cheek. She
lay her palm against his upper arm and he felt the warmth run
through his body and straight to his cock. She looked so feminine,
and smelled incredible.

“Oh, right there. Thanks,” she said to Freeman.

“You remember Freeman, right?” Mills asked her, keeping his hand at
her lower back.

“Yes, of course I do. How are you?”

“Good,” Freeman said, and eyed her over. “You look beautiful.”

“That’s so sweet. Thank you. Did you get to look around yet?”

“No, we just got here, and in the nick of time, too. The parking lot
by the park is filling up,”

Mills told her.

“It usually does. People park there and sit out in the back of their
trucks and drink some beers.”

“Shoot, we didn’t bring beers, but we did park close,” Freeman told
her.

“That’s okay. We can go pick some up, and maybe something to eat,
and have it at the park. I keep a few blankets in the back of my car.
Just in case.”

“Genesis, we’re good if you want to go enjoy the concert. Thanks so

much for the help,” a woman said to her.

“Are you sure that you all don’t need anything else?”

“No way, you really hustled this morning. Thanks, and have a good
time.”
“Thank you, Claire,” Genesis said, and then excused herself a second
to grab her bag from under one of the tables. There were a bunch of
people and kids checking out the books on display, and Mills and
Freeman stepped back a little. Both watched Genesis bend over to
grab her bag. The sight of her long, sexy, tan legs aroused Mills
even more.

“We’re in trouble, you know that, right?” Freeman asked. “For some
damn reason, I don’t care.

She’s gorgeous.”

“Yes, she is,” Freeman said, and when Genesis turned around to face
them, she smiled and headed right for them.

“So, what do you want to see first?” she asked.

Both men took position on either side of her. “Why don’t you show
us what you like most about Cherry Hill?” Freeman suggested. She
tilted her head up to the right to look at him. Freeman held her gaze
and placed his hand at her lower back. Mills smiled.

“Do you mind a little dessert before lunch?” she asked him.

Freeman brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“Are you part of dessert?” he asked her.

She chuckled and pulled her hand free. “Nice one, but no, I’m not.
Come on. I guarantee a pleasurable experience,” she said, and
winked.

Mills absorbed the sight of her abundant breasts, pushed together in

a deep cleavage in the blue and white tank top she wore. She pulled
her sweater tighter as if noticing him staring at her breasts like they
were part of dessert, then cleared his head. “This better be good,”
he stated.
 ****

Genesis nodded her head, smiling as both Freeman and Mills picked
at the sampler. A delicious special only created by Sweet Sensation,
the local candy and café shop in town. It consisted of chocolate
covered Oreos, chocolate covered pretzels, chocolate covered
berries, homemade fudge in three flavors of your choosing, and a
twist on the traditional S’more. Instead of graham crackers, the
sandwich consisted of two homemade sugar cookies, with
homemade dark chocolate and marshmallow spread. They were
made small, and the sampler usually fed four people, but not with
Freeman and Mills eating it. She laughed as Freeman closed his eyes
and exhaled.

“Satisfied?” she asked Freeman and winked. She felt him move his
hand over her knee and thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“Just getting warmed up,” he told her with promise.

She shook her head. He was so flirty and sexy. She noticed how
many women looked at him and Mills, but both men kept their eyes
on her, their focus on her, and she loved that about them. They were
seasoned men, and had this look in their eyes, in their expressions,
that made her think they were kind of tired, like maybe they weren’t
recovered mentally from their last mission. Her curiosity about that,
and what they could have been involved in, or if they were injured
or came close had Gable popping into her head. He was such a good
friend, a lover several times. Her heart ached thinking about how he
died. There was not only a feeling of guilt, like there could be
something she could do to help avenge his death, and then there
was the fear from what she went through. From basically being
raped by Kasmul. She didn’t want to be his lover. Didn’t want to
remain a prisoner in his bed, never mind his estate. What she did,
she did to survive, but right now she felt like she might not be able
to let these men into her heart. Never mind into her bed. She
gulped.
“Here,” Mills lifted a chocolate covered berry to her lips.

“I don’t know. I may have reached my limit.”

“One more bite,” he said, and she took a bite of the berry and he
finished the remainder. It was sexy, and she licked her lower lip
when she swallowed. “Oh, you missed a spot, darling.”

She went to reach up toward her lip when Freeman covered her
hand, and Mills clenched her chin before he pressed his lips to hers.
It was incredible how aroused she felt. Especially as Freeman ran his
palm up and down her thigh at the same time. When she felt his
hand move under her skirt, she tensed up and pulled from Mills’ lips.
But then Freeman cupped her cheek.

“Better than the sampler,” Mills said, but she couldn’t turn to respond
because Freeman kissed her next. It was short, sweet, but sensual,
and she was glad they had taken the back table in the small shop.
As she pulled back, both men released long sighs and completely
leaned closer. The remnants of the way their whiskers felt brushing
against her skin aroused her entirely too much. The scent of their
cologne and the aura of their manliness did her in.

“Oh boy, I think we need to put on the breaks,” she said, and then
reached for her bottle of water to take a sip. She felt Freeman’s arm
on the back of her chair, and felt Mill’s hand move over her knee and
squeeze it.

“I don’t know. I think the pace is perfect. So, what are you going to
show us next, tour guide?”

he asked and winked. His green eyes sparkled, and almost seemed
brighter than when he and Freeman first showed up in town. She
couldn’t help but wonder if spending time with her did that. A
hopeful thought? Then came the uncertainty. Was she ready for this?
Were they? They seemed so much older, and she wondered by how
much. Then she wondered what could come of this?
Was she asking for heartache, for trouble, especially as they left for
another mission? She didn’t even know exactly who they were, what
they did, what unit or specialty things they engaged in. Could she
ask? Would they even tell her? Hell. She was going to be holding
back, too, and not letting her guard completely down. They could be
turned off if they knew what she had gone through. What she
needed to do to survive. Maybe this was a mistake?

A light tug to her hair and she glanced up to look at Freeman. “You
okay?”

She shook her head instead of nodding, and he squinted, those dark
brown eyes of his holding her gaze. She stared at his face. The
scruff along his firm jaw and cheeks, the tan complexion like he only
recently left the dessert. She knew that color. It was a different kind
of tan, of coloring than anywhere else. Again, Gable popped into her
head, and then Kasmul’s touch. When Mills placed his hand on her
knee at that moment, she jerked, and then quickly covered up her
reaction.

“Let’s get out of here and go check out the gazebo in the center of
town and decide what we want to get for the concert. We’re running
out of time.” She stood up and lifted the empty plate and carried it
to the counter.

“You all looked like you enjoyed that,” Betsy Ann said to Genesis as
she took the plate from her hand. Betsy Ann’s mom owned the shop.

“It was good. Probably ruined my appetite for lunch though,” she
said with a smile, but then noticed Betsy Ann eyeing over Freeman
and Mills.

“I haven’t seen you two around town before. You all new residents?”
Betsy Ann asked them.

“Naw, just visiting for now and staying with friends,” Freeman said,
and Genesis felt how affected she was by those words.
They were just passing through. This wouldn’t mean a thing to
them. What was she thinking here? Was it just about a connection
and desire for sex, and finally some men she could see herself
letting go with? She never engaged in a ménage before. It was
serious stuff. This was so bad.

“Well, you stop in any time you want, and if you need any advice on
where to hang out or what events are going on, you two just let me
know.” Betsy outright flirted with them right in front of Genesis.

As her lips parted and she began to say something, she tightened up
as she felt Mills’ palm slide along her belly tight as he pulled her
back against his chest. “We got our own personal tour guide, honey,”
Mills said, and then kissed Genesis’s neck before he took her hand
and led her from the place with Freeman leading the way.

She heard Betsy Ann gasp, and Genesis chuckled. “You might have
ruined your future chance with her,” she said to them.

Mills pulled her next to the building and Freeman was right there,
too. She was sandwiched between them. “There won’t be any future
chances with her. We got you,” he said so seriously her heart
hammered inside of her chest.

“Mills,” she whispered, but he cupped her cheek and neck and kissed
her right there in front of the store. When he was done and he
released her, Freeman pulled her into his arms and kissed her next.
When they heard the whistles, Freeman released her lips and
hugged her to him.

“What do you say we take a walk around that park and those trails
you mentioned? Maybe find a little spot to…talk, baby,” he said, and
kissed her neck as she held onto his sides.

When she didn’t answer because she was trying to figure out what
was happening here and so quickly, they started leading her down
the street. Both men remained close, and even when someone from
town who frequented Harper’s said hello to her, they showed
possessiveness she wasn’t used to, but surely could get used to.
When they walked along the trails, she led them right to a nice
private little covered spot where a long bench sat and thick brush
surrounded it.

“Ahh, so you save the make-out spot for after dessert,” Mills said to
her, and pulled her into his arms and began kissing her. When she
felt Freeman grab onto her hips and support her back as Mills kissed
her, she became further aroused and lifted her thigh up against Mills’
leg as he slid his palm along her leg. It was getting hot and heavy
quickly when she felt Freeman join in, pressing harder against her
back, and maneuvering fingers along her ass cheek, under the thin
strap of her thong panties and right up into her cunt. She jerked and
moaned into Mills’ mouth as Mills deepened that kiss. They were all
moaning, rocking against one another.

“You’re so tight and wet, baby. Jesus, you’re so responsive, and you
smell incredible, too,”

Freeman said and suckled against a sensitive spot on her neck a

little firmer as Mills cupped her breast and stroked her nipple. The
feel of his large hand trying to squeeze more of her breast into his
hand did her in. She came and pulled from Mills’ lips and laid there,
head against his chest as she rocked her hips.

“Holy fuck,” Mills whispered, and then Freeman slowly pulled fingers
from her cunt, turned her around, and kissed her hard on the
mouth. Then Mills moved into position and he started all over again.
Freeman lifted her thigh up against his hip as he moaned into her
mouth. She grabbed onto his chest and shirt and a moment later,
Mills’ fingers slid up into her cunt and he pressed against her back,
cupping her breast under her arm and pinching her nipple. “You’re
so wet, so giving, baby. My God, and your breasts are fucking huge.
I could come in my pants. You got me there, Genesis. Fuck,” he said,
and thrust fingers deeper as he rocked his hips and she came again.
He lowered down her body, lifted her skirt, and a moment later, his
mouth was where his fingers were. He used his palm to press on her
back and she moved forward as Freeman helped balance her.

“Holy Fuck, bro, yeah, she is fire and then some. Make her explode
again. Then I want a taste,”

he said, and she panted and moaned. She was shocked at what was
happening here. Worried about the sounds they were making, or
that someone might come along, and she came again. He lifted up
and hugged her to him as he suckled against her neck. “You taste
better than the sampler, woman. A lot fucking better.” He suckled on
her neck and she could smell her scent on him, then Freeman
moved behind her, and Mills changed positions.

“Come on, baby,” Mills said to her as Freeman bent her forward and
then slid fingers into her cunt.

She gasped. “Oh God, someone might come along. I can’t believe
I’m doing this with you. Oh God.”

Freeman bent lower and she gasped again. He hummed like he was
enjoying a feast as he ate at her cream. She gripped onto Mills’ hips,
her head against his side as he caressed her hair and back, and
pulled up her skirt. “Look at this fucking ass,” he said, and Freeman
lifted his mouth from her cunt, trailing a tongue along her asshole
and then up her spine before shoving fingers back into her again.
Their words, their commanding tones. The hold they had on her did
her in and she came again.

“Fuck yeah.”

Smack.

Freeman smacked her ass and then stood up.

“Let’s take her home. We need to go. Now,” he commanded, and
reality came crashing back quickly as they helped her fix her skirt.
Even her top lowered, and Mills took advantage of that as he slid the
strap lower with his other arm around her waist and he began to
feast on her cleavage, then lower toward her breast and nipple.
“Mills, oh God, we need to slow down.”

“The fuck we do,” Freeman said, and pressed up against her back
and cupped her other breast as if he were helping Mills to gain
better access.

“I can’t take it. It’s too much. Please, slow down,” she said. They
must have gotten her message as Mills released her nipple with a
‘plop’, then began to fix her top.

Freeman gripped her tighter. “Don’t you start putting up those walls
and pushing us away.”

She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. “This is amazing, a
fucking shock to all of us.”

She opened her eyes. “It’s not even a first date.”

“Sure it is, and that doesn’t mean anything. Not when the attraction
is so intense like this,” Mills told her.

“I don’t know, it could be a mistake. You guys aren’t even sure how
long you’ll be in town.”

“We’re all adults here, Genesis,” Freeman said.

Now she faced them both. Without their arms around her, their
hands touching her, she felt the loss but also gained some control
back. She smoothed her hands along her hips. The way Freeman
said that shouldn’t have made her pussy swell and leak some more.
They were adults. They particularly were older and were soldiers.
Soldiers got action with women all the time. She would be another
fuck. A twinge of something hit her gut. Was she suddenly wanting
more? Was it because of them? Because of how different they made
her feel, and also how she forgot everything, including where they
just made out and fingered her?

“You’re being quiet, and with the little bit of time we spent together,
I can already tell that when you’re quiet, Genesis, it’s not a good
thing.” Freeman challenged her and crossed his arms in front of his
chest. He licked his lower lip as he held her gaze, and she wondered
if he could still taste her on his lips. She could still taste him and
Mills.

She was out of practice here. Not just dating or fooling around with
a man, but dealing with soldiers, staying in control like she did when
she worked as an agent. Mills took her hand and held her to the
bench. He sat down and she stood in front of him between his legs.

“I don’t want to fuck this up, so I’ll be completely honest here,” he

said, and glanced at Freeman, who uncrossed his arms and now
stood right next to her. “We like you. A lot. Wouldn’t think any
differently about you if you said yes and came home with us.” She
looked away and he gave her hips a squeeze, then continued
talking, so she looked back at him. “And we wouldn’t think any
differently if you said no, slowed things down, and we continued on
this first date.”

“We’d be disappointed for sure.” Freeman winked. She blushed and

snorted.

Mills smiled. “Your pace, we’re gentlemen. We’ve been around a lot
longer, definitely have more experience than you do, so we’ll slow it
down.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek, then reached over and placed
her palm against Freeman’s chest. He covered it with his hand as he
stepped closer. “I’ve had some things happen in my life,” she said.
Both men narrowed their eyes at her. “I don’t intend to get into
details, but this was a big step for me. I haven’t gone out on a date
in a while, and well, I’m glad it was with the two of you. So, before
we kill the good vibe, why don’t we go get some things and then
enjoy that concert?”

“I can accept that for now, but sweetie, if those things that
happened are going to get in the way of progress, then you will be
talking to us about them so we can work through them together,”
Mills told her.

“We’ll see, Mills.” She went to move her hand and he pulled her
closer and kissed her again.

She ran her hands along his shoulders as Freeman stepped in behind
her and whispered against her ear and neck.

“A little something else before we go into public and I’ll have to

control my desires for you.”

She felt him slide his palms up under her skirt, using his thigh to
press her thighs apart. “Open for me, baby, because you want to,
and feel what we feel,” he said against her ear as Mills continued to
kiss her. His commanding tone, their hard, masculine hands, did a
number on her. Add in their good looks and this attraction, and oh
yeah, she stepped her feet apart and moaned into Mills’ mouth as
Freeman stroked her cunt from behind as he suckled against her
neck.

“You’re going to be all ours soon enough, mark my words, baby.

When we want something, we go after it and get it.”

****

“What are we doing?” Denzel asked Zedock.

“We’re going to check out the concert and meet up with Mills and
Freeman.”
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eBook.

Title: At the back of the world

Wanderings over many lands and seas

Author: George Pugh

Jennie Pugh

Release date: September 5, 2023 [eBook #71571]

Language: English

Original publication: UK: Lynwood and Co., Ltd, 1913

Credits: Gary Baker

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE

BACK OF THE WORLD ***
At the Back of the World
“He had my billy of water to his mouth and was pouring
it down his throat.” Page 195
 AT THE BACK OF
THE WORLD
Wanderings over many Lands and Seas
BY
GEORGE and JENNIE PUGH
LONDON
LYNWOOD & CO., LTD.
12 PATERNOSTER ROW
1913
 CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE

I I go to Sea 7
II The Making of a Sailor 21
III A Burning Ship 35
IV New Friends 44
V Stormy Weather 50
VI The Southern Cross 69
VII The Stone Begins to Roll 66
VIII Various Kinds of Storms 75
IX Christmas at Sea and George the Greek’s
Story 82
X Rounding Cape Horn 98
XI Callao and San Lorenzo 108
XII The Capital of Peru 121
XIII On the Oroya Railway 129
XIV Life on the Andes 139
XV The Cost of Liquor and my Return to Lima 151
XVI I go Back to the Sea Again 163
XVII “Eastward Ho!” 170
XVIII Lost in the Bush 186
XIX Life at Belmont—Sharks and Flying Foxes 203
 XX Snake Stories—Two Brave Girls 214
XXI Widow Smith’s Pig, or “Barkis is Willin’” 222
XXII A Dangerous Enterprise 229
XXIII A Leaky Old Tub and Retribution or Villainy
Rewarded 241
XXIV Off to the Palmer Goldfields 265
XXV We Return to Cooktown 284
XXVI A Trip to the Cannibal Islands and Captain
Brown’s Story 294
XXVII Homeward Bound 310
At the Back of the World
 CHAPTER I

I Go To Sea

As far back as I can remember the sea had a strange fascination for
me, and if, as is the custom with old people to ask a boy, however
small, what he is going to be when he is a man, I invariably
answered “a sailor of course.” At school the lessons I liked best were
geography, and the only books that interested me were those that
told of travel in foreign lands. Born in Liverpool, that city by the sea,
and living, for the first fourteen years of my life, within a mile of the
docks, it was no wonder that I was passionately fond of the water,
and all my spare time was spent at the docks talking to the sailors,
amongst whom I had heaps of friends. The tales they told me of what
they had seen in foreign lands, and the wonders of the deep made
me long to grow up as quickly as possible, but it was not until I was
fourteen that the opportunity came, and that in a curious way.
I had by that time become a great strong lad for my age, and was
tired of school, so one day another school companion and I played
truant and went down to the docks. After playing about for some
time, we thought we would swim across the Mersey and back. I was
a capital swimmer, and thought nothing of the feat, but my
companion had not been across before. However, we got across
splendidly, and after resting a little while we started back, following in
the wake of one of the ferry boats. I reached the Pier Head wall first,
and turned round to look for my companion—he was nowhere to be
seen. I at once told the dock policeman, who took me along to the
River Police Office, and after taking my name and address, and
sending the men out with the boats to search for my missing friend,
he gave me a jolly good thrashing and told me to get back into the
water and look for the lad. I looked at him in astonishment, for I was
feeling tired, and the thrashing had not refreshed me.
“Go along, now,” he said in stern tones, “and don’t you come back
until you find that boy.”
“But I shall be drowned if I do that, I’m tired, sir,” I said.
“A good job, too,” he replied, “and then you’ll find him safe
enough.”
For a few minutes I stood looking at him as he sat at his desk
writing, and then he turned round as I walked slowly to the door.
“Come here,” he said sternly, looking me up and down until I felt fit
to creep into a mouse-hole.
I stood before him expecting another thrashing.
“Have you a father living?”
“No, sir,” I answered.
“A mother?” he asked, his voice a little less stern.
“Yes, sir, and two sisters.”
“Well, you go straight home from here. I have already sent your
mother word. I hope she will have sense enough to give you the best
thrashing you have ever had in your life, and tell her from me to send
you to sea. What you want is work, and plenty of it, and remember
this—if ever I catch you round these docks again I’ll lock you up.”
When I reached home I found a warm welcome awaiting me, but
not the same one as that given to the “Prodigal Son,” and I was glad
enough to escape to my bedroom, feeling that I had got more than I
deserved.
The next morning my mother said I need not go to school any
more. “You shall go to sea,” she said, “so get your cap and take this
note to Captain Watson, he was an old friend of your father’s, and I
sincerely hope he will get you on a ship, or there will be nothing but
unpleasantness before you for a while, they have not found Harry
Law’s body and his people are in a dreadful state and blame you,
which is quite natural.”
I made no answer, knowing that it was true, and feeling quite
determined in my own mind that if Captain Watson could do nothing
for me I would go and ask on every ship in the docks until I was
successful.
 When I arrived at Captain Watson’s house at Seaforth, there was
no mistaking it, standing as it did in a small garden full of flowers,
with a tiny grass plat facing the river, a flagstaff from which a Union
Jack was fluttering in the breeze, and over the doorway in white
lettering “The Mariners’ Rest” was painted.
On my asking for the Captain I was at once taken to him. After
reading the letter the old sea-dog gazed at me out of the corner of
his eye, then he laid his long pipe on the table.
“And so you want to go to sea, do you, how old are you?”
“I am turned fourteen, Captain, I would rather go to sea than
anything else, would you tell me how to get a berth as apprentice?”
“I can tell you something about the life of an apprentice, my boy,
and when I’ve done I think you’ll give up that notion. Your mother in
her letter says you will have to depend on yourself, and a good job
too, and the sooner you are able to do this the better for both of you.
Most of the good firms, whose vessels sail out of Liverpool and
London require a premium with a boy—generally speaking it
amounts to fifty pounds, and this is paid back in wages during the
four or five years’ apprenticeship. Half the boy’s time is spent in
dancing attendance on the master and mates, doing the meanest
work on the ship, that is if any work can be called mean, cleaning
brasses, etc., and when his time expires often he is unable to put two
ends of a rope together in a seamanlike manner.”
At this my heart sank, but the Captain went on:
“You must go in a small ship as an ordinary seaman where every
man and boy has to do his share of the work, and then you will soon
learn your business, and make a man of yourself. The premiums that
are charged for boys are a fraud imposed on the parents, and a
gross injustice for which there is no excuse.”
After a few puffs he resumed—“If anyone speaks to the ship-
owner about it, he replies, ‘Oh, he cannot earn his keep the first two
years.’ But that’s not true. They pay nothing for that boy, but if he
were not on board they would require another boy or man, and the
owners would have to pay port wages, so you see the fact of his
being on board making up the complement of the crew is a gain to
the owner.”
 “Another thing—the Board of Trade stipulate that a ship shall carry
a certain number of hands, but they do not say they must all be
sailors, neither do they specify their ages. Many a good ship has
been lost through having too many boys and too few men on board
her. On these big ships the seamen get all the real good sailor work
to do, such as knotting, splicing, strapping blocks, etc., and the dirty
work falls to the lot of the apprentices. The officers often, finding so
few seamen and so many duffers on board, vent their spleen on the
boys, forgetting that it is the owners’ and not the boys’ fault.” Captain
Watson grew warm on his subject, and it was pretty plain that he had
suffered as an apprentice in his younger days.
“I know a ship,” he continued, “a four-masted vessel that carries
nearly six thousand tons of cargo, a beautiful ship, heavily rigged,
which goes to sea with a crew all told of thirty-eight hands. A fairly
good number anyone would think! Yes, but notice how they are
made up”—here he ran them off his fingers—“Captain, two mates,
carpenter, sailmaker, boatswain, steward, cook, sixteen able
seamen, and fourteen apprentices. The first, third, fourth, fifth, sixth
and seventh sleep in all night in ordinary times and weather, thus
leaving one officer, eight able seamen and seven apprentices to
work the ship at night. Ah, it’s shameful! But you meet me at noon at
the ‘Mercantile Marine Rooms,’ and I will see if I can get you a berth
from some of my old shipmates.”
While Captain Watson had been talking, my eyes had been
roaming round the room. It was a wonderful room, more like a
museum than a living room. Catching sight of my wandering eyes he
laughed a big hearty breezy laugh. “Ah, my boy,” he said, “these are
some of the things you’ll see in other lands. See that ship,” he said,
pointing to a picture of a full rigged ship in a seaway, “that was the
first ship I was master of, she was called the ‘North Star’ of
Liverpool, a better ship never sailed. These boxes of shells hanging
on the wall came home in her from the West Indies, the boxes of red
and white coral are from the East Indies, now look here, this is a
case of flying fish, and what people call sea horses; the flying fish
came aboard, but the sea horses were caught by one of the
apprentices by hanging a piece of teased out rope over the side, and
the little things get caught in it, they don’t live many minutes when
they are taken out of the water as the air kills them. Now this is a
queer weapon,” he said, pointing to what looked like a bone sword,
“it’s the sword of a fish called by that name, and was taken out of a
whale that had been killed by that swordfish and a thrasher, two
sworn foes of the whale, and in the tussle the sword had been
broken off and left in the whale’s carcass, that was in the tropics.
That is a shark’s jaw on that black velvet mount, look at his teeth, no
work there for a dentist, he likes to sharpen them on the good fat leg
of a cow or pig, or a sailor who tumbles overboard through not
looking out where he can hold on in safety to the rigging. These
Indian spears, clubs, and bow came from Brazil, and this boomerang
from Australia. It is a deadly weapon in the hands of a native, and I
have seen one thrown in such a manner that it returned to the hand
of the one who threw it. These cedarwood boxes and inlaid trays and
little cabinet came from China and Japan, so you see my lad what
you can expect when you go to sea and have learnt your business. I
always made it a rule to bring some little thing from every foreign port
I went to, and as my wages grew so did my curiosities. There is one
other thing I want to show you, it is in the garden, it is the figurehead
of another old vessel I was in, ‘The Maori Chief,’ a fine figurehead for
as fine a ship as ever sailed on salt water.”
“And now my lad,” he said, when I had duly admired everything,
both in that wonderful room and in the garden, “give my respects to
your good mother, and tell her I will do my best to get you a ship, and
after that it rests with yourself.”
I thanked him heartily, and set off home with a light heart, and a
mind full of what I had seen and heard. I was overjoyed at the
prospect of seeing other lands and scenes, lands full of mystery and
possibilities. My mother was pleased at my success, and she and my
sisters began at once to get my clothes ready, while I told them of all
the wonderful things I had seen at Captain Watson’s.
There was little sleep for me that night—my mind was full of the
future and what it might hold for me. I got up early, and after a good
breakfast went to Water Street. Finding it was two hours off noon, the
time it was arranged for me to meet Captain Watson, I went over to
Prince’s Dock, and admired the vessels loading there, and wondered
if it would be my good fortune to get a berth on one of them, and so
passed the time until noon, when I went to the “Marine Society’s
Rooms,” and asked for Captain Watson. He was there waiting for me
and introduced me to Captain Crosbie of the barque “Bertie,” then
loading in the Salthouse Dock and bound for Wellington, New
Zealand. He was a smart, well-set man, one of the smartest men I
have ever been with, tall, alert, with not an ounce of spare flesh on
him, hair as black as night and a pair of eyes like gimlets that
seemed to be looking both at you and in you.
“Um, ah,” he said, “you want to go to sea, do you, what for?”
“I want to see foreign lands, sir,” I answered, “and I want to be a
sailor.”
“You want to be a sailor, um. You want to look for trouble evidently.
How old are you?”
“Turned fourteen, sir.”
“Well you’re big enough anyhow, and you look strong enough.
Fond of work, eh?”
“I’ll do my share, sir.”
“I’ve no doubt you’ll do that and a bit over, remember a sailor’s life
is not all sunshine and blue skies like you read of in books, there are
stormy nights and days, and times when you have to hold on by the
skin of your teeth. How would you like to be sent up aloft in a gale of
wind, eh? I expect you’d wish yourself back on shore, there’s no
back door at sea you know.”
“Well, sir, I’d have to do the same as the rest, and do the best I
could.”
“Yes, you would, and perhaps your best wouldn’t be thought much
of and you’d get a rope’s ending, or a kick or a cuff into the bargain,
eh?”
I looked at him. “It seems to me, sir, that everybody thinks that all
boys are good for is to be kicked and cuffed, my old grandfather
used to say ‘when you meet a lad thrash him, if he doesn’t deserve it
then he soon will.’”
They both laughed heartily.
“Was he a sailor?” Captain Crosbie asked.
“No sir, he was a farmer.”
 “Well he ought to have been, he understood human nature as
regards boys.”
I thought differently but said nothing.
After a few more questions Captain Crosbie engaged me as
ordinary seaman at twenty-five shillings per month, and I was to join
the ship the next morning. I thanked him heartily and wishing them
both good day left the room. What a man I felt as I wended my way
home, what castles I built in the air, I was to be a sailor and some
day a captain, of that I felt sure, so full of hope is youth, and it is well
that it should be so, for has not one of our poets said:—

“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,

“And the thoughts of youth are long long thoughts.”

When I reached home my mother was very pleased at my

success, and that night we had a long talk.
“My boy,” she said, “you are about to enter life’s battle on your own
account, and your future will largely depend on yourself. You have no
earthly father to give you wise counsel and advice; I have had to be,
as far as I have been able, father and mother to you and the girls.
You are starting with a bright prospect, but remember always that
God sees you at all times, never do anything you would be ashamed
for Him to see. You have chosen, and I have chosen for you, a
sailor’s life; take Lord Nelson as your pattern, the greatest sailor, and
one of the best Christians who ever lived, and all will be well. Do
your work, however hard it may seem, not only for man but for God,
then nothing can really harm you. Keep from the drink and bad
companions. Never be ashamed of your Bible, your prayers, or your
God. Let us kneel together and ask God’s blessing on your new life,
for without that it is useless to expect either health or prosperity. I
shall look for your letters you may be sure, and will do my best to let
you have some in return.” We knelt in prayer, and oft-times in later
years the memory of that hour came back to me with renewed help
and comfort.
The following morning, after saying good-bye to my mother and
sisters, and hearing, just as I was leaving the house, that the body of
Harry Law had been found, which rather upset us all, I joined the
“Bertie.” She was a strongly built wooden barque of 1,500 tons, and
was in splendid condition. She was a perfect picture; all her yards to
the royals were crossed, the white lines of her sails harbour-stowed,
and each bunt tied up in fine style, all her running rigging was rove,
the red ensign languidly shook at the peak, while the blue Peter lay,
for want of air to expand it, like a streak of blue paint down the fore-
royal mast. I felt my heart swell with pride as I went on board and
realised that at last I was on the deck of a ship and that I was one of
the crew who were to help to take her across the ocean.
The first mate, Mr. McLean, “Old Barnacle” the sailors called him,
came forward and asked me what I wanted and seemed not ill-
pleased at my answer. He was a rough, hard-looking Glasgow man;
he had commanded several ships in his time, but the terrible curse of
drink had pulled him down like a good many before him. He had lost
one ship and berth after berth, until he was glad to take a first
officer’s place. Once at sea, and out of reach of the liquor, a better
seaman could not be found, and beneath that rough exterior a kind
and loving heart beat.
The second mate, Mr. Weeler, was a splendid specimen of the
British seaman. Trained on the “Worcester,” that noble institution on
the Thames, from which so many of our gallant seamen have made
their start, he had just obtained his chief-mate’s certificate. He was a
good friend to me, and to any boy who came under his charge, an
honest, upright, good-living man. Our crew were mostly
Scandinavians, and a quiet, hard-working lot of men.
We sailed out from Liverpool that day, the 1st of July, 1870. As
soon as Captain Crosbie came on board preparations were made for
leaving the dock. It was a beautiful day, the sun shone brightly
overhead, the river Mersey lay calm and peaceful, leading out into
the great unknown sea beyond, everything was new and strange to
me, and never shall I forget the feelings that came over me as we left
the docks behind us. As I watched the sailors jumping to obey orders
to let this or that rope or sail go, I wondered how long it would take
me to learn them all, and how proud I was to answer to the call,
“here boy, lend a hand,” and did my best to be a help instead of a
hindrance whilst we were getting clear of the channel.
 On the first day out I was seasick and felt pretty bad, when the
chief officer came along and saw me leaning against the ship’s side.
“Hello,” he said in his gruff way, “looking for New York, boy; had
your dinner?”
“No, sir, only I feel queer and don’t want any dinner.”
“What is the dinner forrard to-day?”
“Hash, sir.”
“Now look here, you just go along to the galley and ask cook for a
good basinful and bring it here to me.”
I did as I was told and brought it to him, and, to my surprise, he
made me eat it. I had no sooner got it down than I had to rush to the
ship’s side.
“Go and get another basinful,” he commanded, “and eat every bit,
or I’ll give you your first taste of a rope’s end, now go.”
I went, and never shall I forget the feeling of loathing with which I
ate that food. I started again for the ship’s side, when he caught hold
of me. “No you don’t,” he said, “sit there and keep it down, and you’ll
never be seasick again; if you don’t you’ll have to eat another lot.”
Manfully I tried to keep it down and succeeded, but for a few days I
felt squeamish, then it passed off, and I soon felt myself again.
 CHAPTER II

The Making of a Sailor

Before we had been out at sea a fortnight I was able to climb up the
lower rigging, and had learned several things about the ship. I was
very happy, I was never tired, and was only too ready to work off my
superabundant vitality. I also learned how to wash clothes. My first
attempt was a failure, a heavy shower of rain was falling, and one of
the sailors coming along the deck with an armful of dirty clothes,
called out to me: “Now then, Tommy, now’s the time to wash
clothes,” and following his example, I brought my dirty gear on to the
deck in the drenching rain, and soaping them well, tried to dolly the
dirt out of them by stamping and jumping on them with my feet as
they lay near the scuppers. Hanson roared with laughter at my
efforts, and then came along and gave me a lesson. I lost count of
the days, they passed so quickly, and were so full of interest. Every
day I loved the sea more and more, each day showed me some new
beauty in it, and on fine days, to see the sun rise and set on the
water was a marvellous picture to me, of which I never tired.
As was the custom on board ship, I learned to tell what day it was
by what we had for dinner, and what with the sea air, and the happy
healthy life I was leading, I was growing taller and stronger every
day. There was another boy besides myself on board, named Walter
Jones, a quiet, industrious boy. He was in the port watch, and we two
spent many an hour together in the dog watch, which is the sailors’
time for recreation, learning to splice ropes, make fancy knots, and
other things that were necessary to the making of a good seaman.
The chief officer, in his gruff fashion, told us one day that a sailing
vessel was like a young lady in her best clothes—to look complete
she had to have them all on, and in good order; she must be washed