MeteorOnAMoonlessNight: Without Wings Chapter Four

Colorado was fucking hard. They’d all gone lax in the last few years, and it showed. Although Edward used the gym three to four times a week, the commander was kicking his ass. Bella seemed to struggle the most, having intentionally given up the regimen she’d practiced for years. At the end of each day, they barely had the energy to eat and drop into a deep sleep.

It was surreal.

“I just keep telling myself my son is worth it.” Bella’s words were barely comprehensible from the space where her head drooped beside her plate.

“I’m only eating because I have no choice,” Edward replied. “I don't care what it is or what it tastes like. My instincts tell me I need the nourishment, and that’s it.”

“What are you two sooks complaining about?”

Groaning, Edward looked up into the eyes of the second commander, Nigel Smythe. His defining feature was steel gray hair cropped short and hard brown eyes, which he’d narrowed in on Edward and Bella.

“Fook off, man,” Seamus barked. “We’re off the fooking clock now.”

Nigel leaned in, bracing his hands on the table near Bella’s elbow. “Get used to it, ladies. It only gets harder from here.”

“This lady is five seconds from putting a bullet between your eyes,” Bella grumbled.

“The problem is, we need more action and less talking out your arse.” Nigel thumped the table before walking off. "Even if we have to work you to death, we'll make you soldiers again," he called behind him.

Commander Namron met him halfway across the floor. “Newcomers always seem to have a certain smell, don’t they?”

“Fear and piss?” Smythe asked with a chuckle before they walked off together.

“I agree with the Australian cunt,” Seamus said, sitting back in his seat to watch the men leave. “More actual shooting of these arseholes and less only threatening them with bodily harm.”

Edward snickered. “Seriously, though, I didn't think we were this soft.”

“For once, Agent Fuckhead knew what he was about.” Rubbing his stomach, Seamus rose. “I’m going to sleep before someone gets the bright idea to make us run night drills.”

Turning her head, Bella kept her gaze on Edward. “Ready for bed?”

He snagged a roll off a platter, feeling like a kid at camp taking the last sweet to hide in his sleeping bag. “Yes.”

At least the accommodations were decent. They might have been preparing to infiltrate a desert hellscape, but the training facility had decent bedrooms.

“Not a five-star hotel,” Edward said, letting them into the room as he swallowed the last of the pilfered bread. “But, at this point, I think I’d sleep on the ground outside without complaint.”

Yawning, Bella nodded and closed herself in the bathroom. Edward busied himself with preparing for bed and the blessed relief sleep would bring.

Until Bella returned, wearing nothing.

"Dammit, woman, have you no compassion for an old man?"

"What?" She crawled up on the bed, and he nearly cried at the hint of her pussy showing between her legs. As it was, her ass was nearly begging him to spank it.

He almost whined like a toddler, but he caught himself just in time. "How can you tease me this way?"

"For once," she said, flopping onto her back. "I'm not attempting to seduce you. I'm just too fucking tired."

But he'd seen the way her breasts settled into place when she turned over, and it was too late. "Well, your honey pot is staring me in the face."

"Honey pot?" she asked with amusement.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm exhausted." Sinking onto the mattress, he rolled to face her. "Would you rather I said vaginal area?"

Snuggling into her pillow, she snorted. "Please don't."

"Just because I'm half dead with exhaustion doesn't mean my cock is smart enough to realize it."

One of her eyes cracked open. "What are you saying?"

Instead of answering, he took her hand and guided it between his legs. Her touch brought on a hiss, and his cock hardened further.

Bella actually moaned, and he knew she felt what he felt. "I thought you had no energy."

"I don't." And wasn't that a pity?

"You know what they say." Her eyes glinted in the lamplight when she blinked at him, and a sly smile tugged the corners of her mouth. "After a certain age, you never waste an erection."

"Christ, I love you."

Though her movements were minimal, she still had the magic touch. Lifting his hips in time with her rhythm, Edward let his head fall back to the pillow. Shifting, Bella held onto his cock as she rose above him and lowered slowly.

He gripped her ass, whispering a sinful prayer at the unbelievable sensation of his wife enveloping him. Languidly, she lifted and lowered, dipping her head to meet his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Through the haze of lust and fatigue, his heart pounded in his ears. Seductively slow, Bella flexed her hips to bring them both pleasure untold. Heartbeat to heartbeat and pulse to pulse, each inch of their bodies aligned.

"Never too tired for you," she mumbled against the skin of his neck.

She did have a point. Changing his grasp on her ass, he dug deep for the last of his reserves and worked with her movements. Kissing his shoulder, Bella cried out as he pumped harder into her.

"Like that, baby?"

"God, yes, Edward."

Fuck, he hoped she was there. Nearly a week of nothing but fighting, weapons training, and the crack of dawn running for miles had worn him down to nothing more than his base needs.

"Yes." Her voice was nearly nonexistent, breath exchanging with his as she went in for another kiss. "Yes."

Tears had formed in the corners of her eyes and her thighs trembled as her body clamped down. Edward thrust into her one more time, holding her tightly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Not moving again after that." But he brushed her hair off his face and pressed his lips to her temple.

"No strength left." Bella wiped at her eyes, shifting off him to sag onto the bed.

“Need sleep.” Yawning, Edward reached out for her, curling her into his arms. And was instantly asleep.

Predawn light had yet to creep in through the blinds when a heavy knock woke them.

“Fuck!” Shouting at the intrusion into his dreams, Edward threw back the covers and answered the door . . . stark naked.

“As impressive as that is, man, put it away. It’s time for drills.”

Unashamed, Edward leaned against the doorframe and stared down the second commander. Though Nigel Smythe had seen more carnage before he retired from the Navy than most men would in their lifetime, and clearly knew what he was doing now that he was a mercenary for hire, Edward hated him for pushing them so fucking hard. “The only reason I haven't reneged on my promise to never kill another civilian is that you’re the key to bringing my son home. Never forget that.”

“I was a seal for thirty-five years, mate. You can't say a thing that would hurt my feelings, because I haven't any.” Looking past Edward, he winked at Bella. “Tell your wife to get her fine ass up and dressed or I’m coming in to help.”

“Is there no honor among thieves?” Bella asked as Edward slammed the door shut. “Shouldn't Commander Namron have done us all the favor of giving Smythe a traitor’s death by now?”

“Now, now, dear.” Striding to the bed, Edward leaned down far enough to kiss her. “Drawing and quartering men isn't really in fashion anymore.”

“I’m sure there’s a clever quip about de rigueur, but I lack the mental clarity to think of it at the moment.”

He gave her another kiss before getting into the shower. Normally, he would've gotten one the night before, but there’d been nothing in his head other than sleep.

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, Bella was dressed and ready to go. “I’ll shower after we run. There’s no point getting one now when I’m going to sweat to death for the next several hours.”

That was precisely what they ended up doing, too. The exercises were necessary, the retraining of their muscles and their minds. Weapons used to be an extension of their hands, second nature to them. That was what they needed to recapture before heading into the toughest mission they’d ever executed.

His face inches from Edward’s, Commander Dwayne Namron said, “Lunch is within your grasp. Just a few more reps.”

“Fuck you and your reps,” Edward snarled.

“You’ve gone soft, Cullen. Used to remain awake for days and hardly blink,” James said from his side. “Now look at you.”

“Still tough enough to kick your ass.”

“I think we’d like to see that,” Dwayne said, sitting back on his heels.

Pausing in the middle of what felt like his nine millionth crunch, Edward said, “Oh really?”

“It’s clear there’s history between the two of you.” Dwayne shrugged. “Hand to hand combat is still training.”

“Oh, fook yeah!” Seamus clapped his hands, handing a towel to Edward.

Sighing, Bella sat up and drank deeply from a bottle of water. “As long as the rest of us get to sit still while we watch, I’m game.”

Dara nudged her shoulder. “You’re not worried about Edward hurting himself?”

“Nope.” Bella turned a bright smile to Edward’s cousin. “Afraid he won’t pull his punches, maybe, but Holden asked for it.”

“James is squishier,” Emmett commented. “He’s let himself go.”

Holden glared at them all. “Bastards.”

Everyone backed up to give them space, none of them upset at the chance to rest a little. James adopted a fighter’s stance, but Edward merely stood there with his arms loose at his sides. He noticed the mercenaries exchanging money as they bet on who would lose. Nothing he fed off more than being seen as the underdog.

“Ready for me to pound you into next week, Cullen?”

He didn't respond, mostly because he hated shit talk unless it would gain him the upper hand. James Holden wouldn't become distracted if someone made fun of his mother, his wife, or his ability to be what he considered a real man. After all, he’d been trained to let it all filter through his head without consequence. What he undoubtedly expected was for his opponent to rise to his bait, but Edward had learned a thing or two about the man four-plus years ago.

For one, his left eye twitched before he threw a punch. Dodging the attempted jab, Edward shuffled to the side and waited for another sign. His jaw locked, James watched Edward’s face, no doubt thinking he could find Edward’s weakness in his expressions. But Edward had learned a long damn time ago not to let anything show on his face. Zero emotions penetrated his mask; it was why he’d been unequaled as the head of Seattle’s mafia for so fucking long. Whatever canny thoughts flitted in and out of his head would never appear on his face. No tic of the muscles behind the jaw, for instance. Dodging again, Edward took advantage of the closeness to plow his fist into Holden’s stomach.

“Motherfucker,” James swore, backing away. “Why don't you just go ahead and hit me, then? Get it out of your system.”

Circling each other, the men took up the entire space of the mat. Knowing what was coming next, Edward let the words slide over him and kept his face blank.

“What’s the matter, Cullen? Can’t get it up anymore? Got nothing to offer me?”

James would always resort to taunts meant to anger his opponent. He’d become too predictable once he’d hit the jackpot of a desk job. Even worse when he retired and had no reason to train anymore.

“Dude, did you forget all your agency training?” Danny Wilson, known as the mercs’ sniper, taunted James. “I expected you to wipe the floor with him.”

One of the other men spoke up. “I can’t believe I bet on this jackass.”

Bella snorted at Paul, the munitions expert. “Should never bet against a Cullen.”

“Damn fooking right,” Seamus agreed wholeheartedly.

“I just wanna know why I’m here when my sole job is computers,” Dara grumbled. Twisting her back in a stretch, she didn't even bother to watch the two men sparring. Bella kept her focus on her husband, though.

“Come on, asshole.” James wiped sweat from his upper lip. “Just hit me already. We all know you hate me. Use it.”

Instead, Edward remained motionless as a statue.

“Goddammit!” Losing his cool, James rushed Edward.

Finally, it was the moment he’d waited for. With his head down as he came at him, James had left himself unprotected. Using it to his advantage, Edward elbow jabbed him on the top of his shoulder, and James lost his momentum.

“Son of a bitch!” It was too late to back up, so all he could do was try to block him as Edward clocked him in the nose.

With his hands up to cradle the bloodied nose, James left his soft spots open, which Edward used to his advantage. By the time he was done, James was curled in the fetal position on the floor, wheezing breaths in and out.

“What the fuck, dude?” Paul asked rhetorically. “I had no idea you had that in you.”

Edward met his gaze with a steely glare. “That’s the point.”

“Is it wrong to say that turned me on?” Bella asked in his ear as he eased himself down beside her.

“Not wrong at all, love.”

“It’s crazy how you can remain so neutral when someone is coming at you that way.”

“It’s intentional and takes years of practice.”

She hummed. “I’ve seen you do it plenty over the years, and I’ve never managed to match it.”

“You have different strengths.” He kissed her temple. “Most of them are up here.” Lifting her hand, he kissed her knuckles. “Though you’re also a hell of a shot.”

“That was fantastic,” Jake said, coming to sit beside them. “I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say he had it coming.”

“I don't think anyone is sad to see him needing medical attention.” Holding his hand out, Jasper offered to help Edward up. “Lunch is on me.”

“Lunch is provided, dumbass,” Emmett said, punching Jasper in the shoulder.

“Joke, dude. It was a joke.”

“Bad one, then.” Emmett led the way down the hall.

As they walked, Bella leaned into Edward’s side. “It’s the same, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Them. Us. All of it. It’s eerily similar to the old days.”

“Maybe.” Watching his family walk, Edward thought about Bella’s words. “I know this is everything you’ve ever feared since the moment you discovered you were pregnant with a mobster’s child. I can only fix it to the best of my ability and prove that you made the right choice in becoming mine.”

She stopped, pulling on his hand so he’d stop with her. “Oh, Edward, there’s never been any doubt that I made the right choice.”

“It used to be my name you called out in your sleep.” With a restless gesture, Edward avoided her shrewd gaze. “Worried you’d lose me, I suppose.” Finally, he looked into her troubled eyes. “Now it’s his.”

“I am worried, Edward; that’s the problem. Despite wanting to believe these guys can whip us into shape in time—that we’ll make it in time to be of any use—there’s no telling what shape Quinn will be in. But it’s all of us I’m worried about.”

“I promise to do my best, Bella.”

“That’s all any of us can do.”

Sighing, he said, “And that’s what I worry about.”