Wet For Her Warriors (Book 5 of the WILD -- Warriors Intense in Love & Domination -- Boys of Special Forces) by Angel Payne

softly. And I’d give a row of teeth to find her again. “So
I get it.”
    The kid
straightened the pole and rope, preparing to make another try for the horse’s
obedience. “You don’t get shit, Sergeant Bommer, so don’t try your Army Jedi
mind tricks on me. I’m not some dumbshit foreign hostile.”
    He held back another
laugh—barely. “Could’ve fooled me,” he mumbled through a smirk.
    “ What the
hell’d you say?” the kid accused.
    A verbal muffin
was in order. “How do you know who I am?” The casual simulation came easy,
since he and Kell had used it on Benson’s boys last night.
    The kid rolled
his eyes. “You think I came home to find one guy krunked-up in my living room
and the other napping on the office couch with my sister, and not find out who
the fuckers are?”
    That brought a
confused pause. Kellan likely had a wallet in tow last night, but the only
things he’d carried from Franz’s place were his shirt, shorts and the
flock of geese on his vodka bottle. “By reading my ‘krunked-up’ mind?” he
finally challenged.
    “By using my
sober one.” The kid didn’t take his eyes off the filly. Thank God he got that part of the process right. “Rush’s ID gave me a clue about both of you. For
you, I snapped a shot on my phone and texted it to Franz for a positive check.
He was very helpful with the positive scope…and a few backup details, too.”
    Tait’s gut
clenched by the way the boy emphasized the last of that. “Wonderful,” he
mumbled, just as the kid took advantage of a break in the horse’s attention to
try and slip the lead rope around her neck again. Not a chance. The filly
bucked at him, causing him to take another textbook ass plant. Tait couldn’t
hold back his chuckle any longer. “Franz may have given you some dirt on me,
kid, but in the filth department, I’d say we’re even.”
    “Fuck you!”
    “Strike that.
You officially take the scum crown now.” He cocked a brutally placid stare back
through the corral slats. “It’s Leo, right? Aren’t you supposed to be going to
some fancy academy? They let you spew filthy language like that at your special
school, Leo?”
    “They let you
turn into a pussy like that in Spec Ops , Sergeant? Aren’t you
used to much worse than this?”
    Considering the
morning he’d already endured, the kid’s Prince Snotty act should’ve made him leave
and let the idiot earn a hoof—or four—in the face. The sooner he left this
place behind, with all memories of the blood-heating, soul-stirring woman back
at the house, the better. But because of her, he turned toward the barn
instead. He remembered Benson taunting Lani by invoking the legacy of both her
parents, so Leo was the only family she had. If he left the kid to tame the
filly and Leo wound up with a serious brain injury because of his stupidity,
Tait would never excuse himself. And the list of unforgivable shit in his life
was too damn long already.
    As he’d hoped,
he found some sets of extra boots sitting in the corner near the barn door. Barbecue
bonus: several pairs of jeans hanging on some pegs on the wall. That made
sense, considering the island’s humid weather didn’t make it tolerable to drag
down one’s legs in denim for hours.
    He found some
boots in his size and a pair of jeans that were close. Though the pants fit low
on his hips, they’d get the job done.
    After changing his
shorts for the jeans, he walked back out to the corral. Leo didn’t miss his cue
to let out a mocking grunt. “You trying out for a romance novel photo shoot in
those jeans?”
    He moved on
without pausing, stepping up on the fence then swinging a leg over. “And do you want to get this horse in a bridle today, or not?”
    Leo’s eyes went
wide. Well gee fucking whillikers, the boy actually seemed surprised—and
humbled. “Yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, I do.”
    “Then shut up
and listen.”
    A huge slice of
the kid’s attitude slid away as he stepped back. “Her