Ice (Elite Forces #1) - Hilary Storm


Loyalty, Duty, Honor, Respect, Courage, and Integrity... Those are six of the seven cores embedded into a soldier’s brain when you enlist in The United States Army.

I remember like it was yesterday, placing my hand on the bible, while holding my other hand high along with my head, turning my life over to protect my country. Only, it wasn’t yesterday, it was eight long, tortuous, agonizing years ago.

My reasons for thinking agonizing have nothing to do with the Army. I live it. I breathe it. My life is consumed by it because it’s all I’ve ever wanted.

It’s agonizing because here I stand in complete darkness as one of the first women to graduate from The Army’s Special Ranger’s School. Agony may be a harsh word to use. However, no one was more relieved than I was when the law was lifted a few years ago and women were notoriously approved to serve our country in day-to-day ground combat roles. Our nation has come a long way in allowing equal rights to women. It's about fucking time.

For two months I trained, barely slept, and pushed my now well-defined body to the brink of exhaustion. My dream is now a reality and my right to be here is embedded into my soul.

My mental stability was pushed to the limits, physical strength tested to the point of pain so excruciating that I was ready to give up, surrender, and dare to show them weakness, but I never did. I would've died first.

With the help of a fellow Captain, I pushed harder, became stronger, and passed. Yet here I stand, ready and willing to throw my dream away, all for a simple quick fuck. It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought about doing in my life and god help me, I can’t control it, nor do I want to.

I’ve been in the desert a little over a month now, lucky enough to have been given the same orders as that same fellow Captain who encouraged me all those months ago to press forward and prove to myself and everyone else that I could live my dream and become who I wanted to be.

Captain Beau Harris and I have been flirting, eye-fucking each other since we first re-connected in this shit-hole country. Both of us pissing the time away while we wait for our Commander to arrive so he can deal out our orders. I crave the day we get to go behind enemy lines and destroy a substantial military target. It’s a mission that should have been started weeks ago. The higher ups have been tight-lipped and they've been pissing me the fuck off.

Hence, the reason I need sex. I’m not a slut; in fact, I’m far from it. But hell, after training and now waiting for someone who should’ve already been here, I’m sexually frustrated. My pussy needs attention. It needs to be pounded, fucked, and filled with a great cock before I lose my mind.

So that brings me to core number seven... Selfless Service. That's the one I've mastered. Everything I do is for my country or for my subordinates. I don't do anything for me, it's just not allowed. Well, tonight I'm feeling selfish.

I’m Captain Jade Elliott of The United States Army and I’m about to break every single one of the seven cores I pledged.



“Fuck. You smell good.” Harris sneaks up behind me, places his hand on the small of my back as he pushes me inside my tent. I’m the only woman out here. The men all share a tent, while I choose to have my own. It may be small, but it’s mine. At this very moment, I’m thankful I chose to sleep on my own. I’m selfish, always have been. My upbringing made me this way.

I’m an only daughter who rebelled against her parents. They wanted a girly girl, but instead they wound up with me. Don’t get me wrong, I can be as girly as they come. I love the feel of silk across my soft skin, and the smell of lavender in my bath, or my nails and toes pampered.

However, when you grow up with four older brothers who played Army and you wanted someone to play with, then you played it too.

I could carry on for hours about how I became a soldier. There’s no time for it now. Right now, my pussy is throbbing, the need to be touched by a man and not my fingers has me spinning around and cupping Harris’s