by Harley Stone
Our bodies mashed together, our tongues danced, and we groped each other like inexperienced teenagers desperate for our first fuck. He smelled crisp and clean with a hint of metal, and I breathed him in, letting him fill my senses. His hands on me felt familiar, but strangely foreign, like coming home to find all the furniture moved around. He’d changed, we both had, and the thought was both reassuring and unsettling. I didn’t know this man. I never really had, yet being in his arms felt so right. More right than anything I’d ever experienced.
I tried not to say anything stupid, but through my drunken, lust-filled haze I may have told Eagle I missed his tongue and his cock. He might have replied that I had the best tits and tightest pussy he’d ever felt.
We were far too wasted for pretenses and games. Our usual power struggle was put on hold, leaving nothing between us but explicit attraction and savage need.
Rock music blared from the party. It was so loud nobody would be able to hear us. We were clear to unleash and be as wild as we wanted. As we needed. I wrapped my legs around Eagle, silently begging him to give me everything.
Shelves pressed into my back as he slid his hand up my dress to slide my lace thong aside and plunged two fingers into my channel. Gasping at the invasion, I threw my head back.
“You’re so wet for me, Naomi,” he breathed. He slid his fingers out slowly before burying them again. His thumb flicked my nub. “So fucking wet. And so goddamn beautiful when you lose control.”
Before I could respond, his lips were back on mine. His tongue invaded my mouth as he continued to fuck me with his fingers. The intense, all-consuming attack made my body tremble and my knees go weak. My release built, and I gyrated my hips, forcing him into the spot that would make me detonate. It still wasn’t enough.
“More,” I rasped, my voice breathy and deep.
He slid a third finger inside me. Still not enough. I needed all of him.
“More,” I growled, attacking the zipper of his pants. “I want you inside me.”
Freeing his cock, I stroked it as he met my gaze and moaned.
“Condom?” I asked.
He fumbled with his wallet until the foil packet came free. Then he rolled it over his thick, hard shaft and slammed into me. He felt so damn perfect that tears stung my eyes. I wrapped my legs around him and took him in deeper, loving the way his pounding skirted the border of pleasure and pain.
“Harder,” I breathed before I found his mouth again.
As he stepped up the pace, our tongues danced. My entire body felt alive and wild. Grinding against his cock, I grabbed his shoulders and rode him as he fucked me. We both chased our release with a primal single-mindedness. The shelves bit into my back, intensifying the pain and the pleasure. He released my mouth to nip at my neck. I sucked in air and fought harder for my release, grinding against him. His thumb returned to my clit, flicking. It was exactly what I needed, and I detonated, my climax so violent it tore through my body like an explosion. Desperate to take Eagle with me, I squeezed his cock inside me and rode out my orgasm until he found his own release.
In the moments afterward, as we fought to catch our breath, he stayed inside me, cradling me against the shelves. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the past two years that I’d missed him, but I rested my head on his shoulder and let him hold me.
I knew it was still just sex, but once again it felt like something more. Like comfort and familiarity. Like connection.
Eventually, Eagle pulled out and tossed the condom in a trash can. “We should get back out there before we’re missed.” He glanced at the door but seemed reluctant to leave.
I understood his struggle all too well. Hell, I didn’t know if I could even walk yet. “Everyone’s so wasted I doubt they’ll notice our absence,” I pointed out. I wasn’t ready for this to end. I didn’t want Eagle to disappear again. Link and Emily would leave for their honeymoon tomorrow and I’d go back to the base with only my memories of this closet fuck to sustain me.
“Will you at least say goodbye this time?” I asked, unable to stifle the pain I felt at the thought. Would this be it for me and Eagle? Just one round of passionate sex every time I came home?
Something indecipherable crossed his features. Pain? Regret? Whatever it was fled before I could figure it out. He gently kissed my lips, then my jaw. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. Not by a long shot. Why don’t we call a cab and get out of here? Go back to the station.”
Then what?
The question sat on the tip of my tongue, but I was too afraid to voice it.
Meeting my gaze, he brushed a loose curl away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Stay with me tonight, Naomi. Don’t run away this time.”
Dropping my head to his chest again, I breathed him in as emotions churned within me. Kim said Eagle never let anyone stay the night, yet he was inviting me. This was big. Too big. It was just supposed to be sex.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from nodding my assent against his chest.
Eagle
A HARD KICK to my left knee woke me up.
Startled, I bolted out of bed, reaching for the pistol I kept in my nightstand. By the time I slid the drawer open, I realized two things. I was still at least half-drunk, and there was a woman in my bed.
What the fuck?
The events of last night slammed into me as I quietly slid the drawer closed again, leaving my pistol inside. The wedding. Naomi in that damn strapless green dress. Drinks. Toasts. Sex in a cramped janitor’s closet. Then I lost my ever-loving mind and asked her to stay with me. Judging by the body-sized lump in my bed, she’d also lost hers and agreed.
As I leaned over the bed, her long blonde hair flung from one side to the next. “Ambush. Can’t get off… grounded.”
Concerned, I scooted closer, trying to hear what she was carrying on about.
She kicked out again, causing the blankets to jump. Lines creased her forehead and her lips drew into a firm line. “No!” She thrashed again, throwing the blankets off her arms and revealing her naked upper body. “Michaels… down.”
I knew Naomi had recently seen some shit in the service. I could tell by the flickers of pain that crossed her expression when she thought no one was looking. By the way her eyes didn’t shine as bright anymore. Something big had shaken her world and her confidence, and I had a pretty good feeling she was reliving it now. I was all too familiar with the kinds of memories that brought on nightmares like the one she was having.
Tears tracked down the sides of her face as she squeezed her eyes closed and violently shook her head. “Too many.”
Too many what?
Sweat beaded across her chest as she flailed and kicked, tangling her legs up in the blankets. Her eyes were still closed, but fear was written across her features. She looked terrified. A shiver went up my spine at the thought.
Naomi was a Pedro, which put her in danger every time she was deployed. She was tough and smart, though, and she could handle it. But thrashing in my bed while her memories haunted her made her seem vulnerable and delicate. It reminded me how fragile life could be. That in one horrible second, it could all be over.
Sometimes all it took was one bullet.
One fall.
One IED.
My chest squeezed at the thought of losing her. My arms ached to wrap around her and keep her safe.
Shaking my head, I tried to throw off the impulse. She wasn’t mine to protect. Besides, even if she was, what could I do? Watch another woman I cared about die? Wait by the phone until I got the call that she wouldn’t be coming home?
She thrashed again, reliving her own personal hell, and I knew I had to do something. She’d be pissed to know I’d seen her exposed like this, but I couldn’t watch her suffer anymore.
“Naomi,” I said, gently shaking her. “Wake up.”
She startled and blinked up at me, her eyes wild and wet with tears. Sucking down a shaky breath, she sat up and took in her surroundings. Her chest rose and fell
and her body trembled. “Eagle,” she said with a relieved sigh, lowering her head into her hands.
“I’m here. What happened?”
“What do you mean?” She raised her head and stared at the door, as if weighing her chance of escape.
“Something happened. Something changed you since the last time you were here.”
She snorted. “It’s been two years. People change every day.”
“You know what the fuck I mean. Everyday changes don’t cause nightmares like the one you were just having.”
“I’m sorry I woke you. I should probably go.”
She started scooting away from me, but I grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop. Anger ignited in her eyes as she looked from her arm to me. “Let me go, Marine.”
“I thought you weren’t gonna run away again.”
“We have fun little flings, Eagle. That’s all. Let’s not make it personal.”
Stung, but unwilling to give up, I inched closer until I was breathing against her forehead. “You woke up in my bed, sweetheart. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”
Her eyes hardened. “It was just a stupid nightmare.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” I snapped. “I’ve seen that shit enough times to know when it’s more than a nightmare. Half the brothers in this place would recognize what you were doing. Something’s haunting you. Something happened. Tell me about it. Please.”
I released her wrist, but instead of bolting for the door, she took another shaky breath and scooted back, sitting against the headboard. Kicking her legs free of the tangled blankets, she pulled them up to cover her nakedness. I didn’t think she was going to talk, but being half asleep with the memory lingering must have destroyed her defenses, because she surprised me with a nod and a self-deprecating chuckle. Her gaze went back to the door.
“Something happened. I guess you could say that. It was supposed to be a standard CSAR op. There were three wounded. I touched down so we could load them up, parking us right in the middle of a fuckin’ ambush. Insurgents attacked from all sides. I tried to get us back in the air, but they shot out the rotor, disabling it. I radioed for help, and another Pedro was coming, but we needed to hold out until he got there.” Her gaze never left the door, her eyes haunted as she tugged the blankets up further.
I listened, waiting for her to continue.
“God, there had to be at least thirty of them and we weren’t positioned or manned for that shit. We had limited shelter, especially the PJs—the pararescuemen—who went out to collect the injured. With the helo grounded, I joined the team, trying to hold off the insurgents. They just kept coming. One of the PJs, a guy by the name of Michaels, was mowed down almost immediately, along with the wounded he was trying to help.”
Still staring straight ahead, I knew she was seeing it all again, wondering what she could have done differently. I was so goddamn familiar with that look it made my insides ache. I wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but I forced myself to stay still. Afraid she’d clam up if I made the slightest move.
“They took out Stevenson next. He was another PJ, and a friend. One of the good guys… married with a two-year-old little boy. He and his wife used to have me over for dinner sometimes. He was crouched maybe two feet from me when it happened. One second he was holding his own, and the next he was riddled with bullets. The body armor didn’t do shit. Blood was everywhere. His eyes…” She blinked back tears and took another deep, shaky breath. “He knew he was dying. Hell, I thought we were all going to die. Fucking strange the way the attack felt like it all happened in slow motion, but Stevenson’s death was instantaneous. He was looking up at me like he wanted my help but knew there wasn’t shit I could do, then he was gone.”
People understand the fundamentals of death. We know what happens to the body as the lungs stop taking in oxygen, the mind quiets, and the heart stills, but we’re still so goddamn arrogant we think we can stop it. After Genie’s death, I’d spent many nights awake thinking about how shit would have gone down differently if I’d been with her. About how I could have saved her. Protected her. But deep down, I knew it was bullshit. When the reaper comes, even the most skilled doctors stand aside helpless.
Death takes who it wants and there’s not a goddamn thing we can do about it.
And really, what the fuck were our skills and knowledge worth if we couldn’t even protect the people we loved? What the hell did we even serve for?
I’d seen the same expression etched into Naomi’s face while I was staring at myself in the mirror. I understood her pain and frustration. I knew firsthand what that helplessness felt like.
Naomi swiped angrily at her eyes. “I thought I was going to die. I know there’s always that possibility, but it seemed surreal until Stephenson fell. We were being overrun. There was no escape. I felt every heartbeat in my chest, every breath in my lungs, and I knew the next one could be my last. If that helo had been one minute later… I don’t know if any of us would have survived. As it was, we lost two PJs and two of the three wounded we were supposed to be rescuing. But I fucking made it.” Blinking back tears, she lowered her head. “And for the life of me, I can’t make sense of why.”
The need to comfort and protect her intensified. I had to fight for all I was worth not to wrap my arms around her. She wasn’t done talking, and she needed to finish… to get it all out. I could bite my tongue and give her that. I had to.
“You know what the really fucked-up part of it is?” she asked, finally turning to face me, her eyes full of pain and self-loathing.
There were so many fucked up parts of death in combat I couldn’t even hazard a guess. I shook my head. “Tell me.”
“Every time I wake up from that nightmare, I’m glad they got Stevenson and not me. He was a husband and a father and my friend. I wasn’t even two feet from him. If they’d focused their fire on me and not him, he’d still be here, and I wouldn’t. And some selfish, disgusting part of me is glad he’s dead because it means I’m alive.”
Her confession evoked something deep within me. No, it wasn’t the confession. It was the admission that she’d been knocking on death’s door. That she’d been terrified her time had come. My vision swam, and another scene stretched in front of me. An overturned AAV, bodies and blood-soaked shrapnel everywhere. Searching for my woman. I recognized the dark curls. She was lying on her side, one arm gone, a beam through her stomach. Heart in my throat, I circled the carnage, praying it wouldn’t be her.
But this time, instead of Genie’s face, I saw Naomi’s.
I’d lost Genie, but I refused to lose Naomi. She wasn’t even mine to keep safe, but the idea of her dying twisted me up in knots. Needing to touch her, I pulled her onto my lap. She startled at first, dropping the covers and bracing her hands on my shoulders like she was about to push me away.
“Please?” I croaked out, my voice thick with emotion.
Her gaze met mine. There was so much pain in her beautiful brown eyes it almost hurt to look at her. I wondered if she saw the same pain when she looked at me. It united us, somehow. Bound us. She dropped her hands from my shoulders, lowered her head to my chest, and her body curved around mine. She let me hold her in her brokenness, and it was an honor I didn’t take lightly. It felt like trust and connection. I couldn’t protect her from the past, but she was letting me shield her from the present. Deep sobs wracked through her, freeing every single protective instinct I’d spent the past six years locking away. By the time her tears dried up, I lacked the resolve to release her. Possibly ever again.
She’d almost died.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Not again. Not to Naomi. I’d do anything to keep her safe.
“Don’t go back,” I pleaded against her forehead. “Get out while you still can.”
She tensed.
Knowing by her reaction that I’d fucked up—that I’d gone too far—I tried again. “You’ve done your time, risked your life, stay here. With me.”
&nb
sp; “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. There are options.”
She pulled away, emotionally and physically. Inches separated us, but it felt like feet. No, it felt like the goddamn Grand Canyon. Like the Pacific Ocean. “How dare you ask me to do that.”
“I want… I need you to live, Naomi.”
Her eyes softened for a second before her shoulders squared and she faced off with me. “I’m not a coward, Eagle. I made a commitment and my time’s not up yet.”
Ten years. That’s the commitment a pilot makes. Her commission had to be almost over. “Naomi—”
“Fuck.” She groaned, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shared… any of that.” She scooted further away. She’d closed down and couldn’t even look at me.
“Why the hell not?”
“I know what happened to… what happened with the IED and your… your woman. I shouldn’t have told you about the op. I’m sure that brings back memories and emotions, but I didn’t even think about how it would affect you. Shit. I am such a fucking idiot sometimes.” She stood, scanning the floor.
Someone had told her about Genie. It was nobody’s story but my own to tell, and knowing that someone had blabbed pissed me off. “This isn’t about her. This is about you. You were almost killed.”
My tone came out harsher than I’d intended. Naomi swallowed and brushed away the last bit of moisture from her eyes. When she looked up at me, her expression was guarded again. “I didn’t tell you what happened because I’m looking for advice or a way out of the service, Marine. I told you because I thought you’d understand.”
“I do understand. Goddammit, I get it. Better than anyone. Why the fuck do you think I’m telling you not to go back?” I could tell it was the wrong choice of words by the way anger ignited in her eyes.