This is from my novel Binding Demons (is that allowed here? I didn’t see if paranormal romance is?) WARNING: CUSSING
“Man I miss…Sarah’s homemade lemonade…and those shoulder rubs…mmmm, mm, I could…sure use one right about now,” Johnson huffed behind me.
Okay, that was it. I stopped walking and turned. “Johnson—I like you. But if you say that name one more time…” I looked around the desert dunes and gritted my teeth. “I’ll have your ass demoted.”
“What? Sarge, you can’t—what you got against my be-lov-ed Sa-rah?”
I lowered my head and shook it, wishing he wouldn’t rap every goddamn thing. “Nothing Johnson, but it’s too damn hot. And this gear is too damn heavy. And my body is too—fucking tired, to bear that orgasm you have every time you say her name.”
The men erupted in snickered laughter.
“You can’t de-mote me for lov-in on my baby. If you saw her, you’d know what I’m sayin.”
I nodded a few times, “You’re right, but I can and will shoot you in your dick,” I locked my freaky eyes on him, knowing the hazel one said normal, but the bright blue one branded with a music note screamed psychopathic tendencies.
“Oh ho ho,” Rory laughed on my left, “promises promises.”
Lifting my shoulder, I wiped my face, wondering why that weird nagging feeling in my navel wasn’t letting up. “Five minutes,” I breathed, dropping to my knees, not bothering with formalities. The men groaned in appreciation and did the same.
“Where the fuck is this rendezvous point, we’re out in the middle of nothing,” Johnson gasped.
“Looks like it might be the gates of Hell,” Woods mumbled, “Ole Lucy’s pad.”
Rory muttered and spit. “My damn water’s nearly boiling.” His heavy Texas drawl made him sound more amazed than upset.
“I didn’t sign up for this shit,” Johnson said.
I snorted a light chuckle, pouring some of my own hot water in my hands, “nobody signs up for this,” I mumbled, splashing my face.
A tingle flicked my navel again and I searched the dune ridges. They were getting more frequent. I looked back at my brooding gunman, Burkly who always wore that shitty life glower. He reminded me of myself except I hid that look just under a well developed calm.
“I mean, why the hell send five men on reconnaissance in the middle of the ocean?” Johnson cried.
Woods deep laughter boomed. “The ocean! Dude, your ass is so fried.”
“Look around!” Johnson squealed, “all that’s missin is the water and the fish. Forever in every damn direction, dune after dune after damn dune, I can’t take it, I just wish I was–”
“Don’t say it Johnson,” I warned lightly.
“Aint nothin but the truth so help me Gawd.”
Rory snorted. “You’re not the only cowboy with a woman back home, but you don’t hear me bellyaching all over the dang desert about it.”