WARRIOR (CROSSFIRE SEALS, #5) by Gennita Low Page B

need coaxing at all.
    After a quick set up, Joanna indicated she had everything ready. Minah had been watching raptly. She leaned forward, as if eager to begin talking.
    Kit pressed the record button. “She can tell her story in her own words,” she said. In Pashto, she added, “Just start, Minah.”
    An avalanche of words tumbled out from the young girl’s mouth
    * * *
    “D ude, I don’t like how red that wound looks.”
    Lucas paused in the middle of putting on a clean pair of socks. “Stop looking at my body then. Besides, you’re the one who sewed me. It probably is all red from your tugging that thread through my abs of steel.”
    Mink grinned and got off his bunk. He leaned down. “The stitches are beautiful. Like Picasso’s work.”
    Lucas snorted and returned to his task. “Oh yeah, exactly like Picasso’s.”
    Dirk’s head appeared from the top bunk. “Have you actually looked at Picasso’s paintings, man? Big headed, one-eyed, weird shit.”
    Mink reached out and touched Lucas’ stitches. “Geniuses are never appreciated,” he said absently. “Hmm. Soft.”
    “Hey, you’re making me nervous,” Lucas growled, elbowing him away. “And stop pulling on the stitches.”
    “I’m barely touching them. Heightened sensitivity. The bruising looks normal, though. Did you take the drugs the doc gave you?”
    Lucas shrugged. “He said, if the pain was getting to me. It wasn’t.” It was just a knife wound. No big deal. He’d had injuries worse than this one. “Slept like a baby.”
    “Actually, you didn’t,” Dirk said. “I heard you tossing and turning quite a bit.”
    “Yup, me too,” Mink agreed.
    “What are you guys, my babysitters?” Lucas waved them away. “That Afghan insider’s words got in your head, clowns.”
    Mink pointed a finger at him. “I’m watching you closely today, pal. I know how you are. You’ll fall over before you admit you’re in pain.”
    Lucas got off the bunk. Mink knew him too damn well. “Yeah, yeah,” he said nonchalantly. “I’m putting on some clothes and heading off to look for food. You two can squabble about who gets my big balls when I die from this little scratch.”
    He stalked off, feeling restless. He hadn’t lied. He did sleep. Just not fitfully. But he’d always had a difficult time going into full relaxed mode after a night of action so a bit of tossing and turning in bed didn’t bother him one bit. It wasn’t as if the bunk bed was as comfy as, say, Kit’s bed.
    Kit. Hmm. He was hungry for Kit. He wondered what she was doing right now. She did mention being out on an interview job where there were no hotspots for texting. Too bad. He had the sudden urge to ask her what her bed looked like.
    He grinned. Now, he wouldn’t mind having his abs and other body parts checked out by that woman. She had the most arousing way of smoothing her hands up and down his body. Half massage, half teasing promise. She had first done that to his back, from his shoulder blades all the way down his ass and over the back of his calves. Then, when he’d turned over at her soft request, she’d done the same to his front side, from his pecs, down his tightened ab muscles, over the top of his thighs...and then her mouth had come down between his thighs and...man, now that woman was Picasso with her mouth and tongue. Lucas growled again. Dammit, he was going to walk around with a telltale hard-on with two concerned bros at his heels.
    Coffee. Lots of coffee and some protein. That was all he needed.
    Fortunately, Dirk and Mink dropped the subject and went about like they normally did, bickering and talking about plans. There were a few other people eating with them and he chose to ignore the little digs about their adventure under the damned hen house. The moment the Stooges joined their table, a few of them started sniffing the air and plugging their noses, complaining about the odd stench.
    One of the men clucked like a chicken and the others