“I’m sorry, Harley. I know you’ve had a shit day, and my asking you to move out has added to it, but you need to see things from my perspective.”
“Your perspective? What about my perspective? You’re all I have. All I recognize.” He stood and walked into the kitchen, leaving me with a high level of guilt.
Moving off the sofa and following, I found him downing a large glass of water, his back to me.
Defending my actions, I stopped in the doorway. “I never should have let things get this far. I blame myself.”
His broad back rose and fell as he placed the empty glass in the sink. Turning to face me, the sad expression had me almost run to him to take back everything I had said.
“So that’s it? You’re leaving me to deal with this alone?”
“No! I’ll still be here for you as a friend. I promised I’d help you.”
God. I didn’t want to be just friends. My body didn’t want it, and my heart didn’t want it. My brain led the race though. Doing the right thing had always been in my nature.
He closed his eyes and sucked in air deeply though his nose. “If that’s what you’ve chosen, then I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Suddenly remembering Harley’s mail on the counter, I grabbed it and held it out for him. “Here. I did a drive by of your apartment today. I don’t know what I hoped to find. A clue, perhaps. This mail stuck out of the box. I brought it here for you. I thought there may be something important.”
His stare penetrated mine for a moment too long before he strode forward and almost snatched it from me.
“Thank you.” He huffed, sitting at the table, opening the first envelope.
Deciding to leave him to it, I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, needing some hot water to help me settle. What had I just done? Had I pushed him away for good?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harley
The idea of leaving Mac had me tied up in all sorts of tight knots. Little Miss Righteous had played her ‘do good’ card and it pissed me off. I couldn’t merely step back into my old world and pretend as if things were back to normal. Nothing would ever be that way. She seemed to dismiss the chemistry between us so easily, as if it meant nothing to her.
Hearing the water switch off in the shower, I waited for her to return to the living room while I finished browsing through my mail. Nothing worth keeping except a bank statement. Good to find. My account number had been typed at the top, so tomorrow I’d contact them. Noting the name Declan Peterson threw me another curve ball. Just who in the hell was I? Just another question I needed answers to. Why didn’t I carry my father’s last name? I couldn’t process anymore, so instead I threw a question at Mac.
“Do you have a Swiss army knife?”
She spun to my voice in alarm. “Why?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to break into my own apartment. Grab some clothes and take a look around. See if I have any ID. If I’m moving out, I need to get a new key cut too.”
“Oh, sure. Give me a minute to grab some shoes and we’ll head over. I don’t have an army knife, but I have a hairpin. Will that do?”
Her tentative reply told me she hadn’t expected me to suggest returning to my home so soon, even to simply snoop. “We’ll soon find out.”
Shuffling away, I watched her shoulders slump. Damn woman. Why did she fight her attraction to me? We only had the present moment, so why not live in it?
Fifteen minutes later we stood outside my front door, me needing to siphon in deep, calming breaths as I geared myself to step over the threshold into a life I knew nothing about. Mac stayed close, thankfully. I couldn’t do it on my own.
Inserting the hairpin into the lock, I jiggled it around as if I’d done it a thousand times, listening for the telltale click before slowly pushing the door open.
“Do you want me to go in first?” Mac asked.
“No. I got this. Just stay near me.”
She didn’t respond as I crossed over the line into a small, dark kitchen. I drew the blinds to let in some natural light. A couple of dishes sat in the sink, but overall it looked pretty clean and tidy. Glancing around, I searched for things I might recognize, spotting a photo on the white refrigerator door. Moving closer, I could see Trudy and me, obviously in happier times. We were on a beach, arms wrapped around each other, smiling genuinely into the camera. My dream came back to me and I wondered if the location were one and the same. Honeymoon perhaps? Placing the magnet back on the photo, I turned, eying Mac as she stared at the picture before looking away and down to the floor.
I squeezed her shoulder as I moved past into an open plan living area. Beige couch with lighter colored walls and carpet had the place looking homely. A magazine lay open on a timber coffee table with an empty mug beside it. A large flat screen television hung from a bracket on the left wall, but apart from that, there were minimal furnishings. Nothing feminine about it at all. A typical bachelor pad.
The musty smell had me opening some windows to let in the fresh breeze.
“I’m gonna go pack a bag and search around for some identification. You want to make a coffee or something?” I asked, watching Mac fidget nervously. “Actually, I’m not sure what’s in the cupboard, but feel free to have a look.”
She offered me a tight smile and a slight nod, so I left her to it. I was anxious to see more.
There were two bedrooms, a spare and the master suite, which had been done out in similar tones as the rest of the apartment. A small bathroom sat between each bedroom down the hallway.
The main bedroom is what drew me. My room. Standing in it brought forward the weirdest sensation. I paused, surrounded by pieces of myself I knew nothing about. A book sat on the nightstand, marked at the page I’d been reading. Game of Thrones. Wow! I never would have guessed. I’d had no interest to pick up a book since awakening. Perhaps because Mac had been my sole focus.
Stepping into the closet, I pored over my clothes. Jeans, t-shirts, a couple of black suits. Leather jackets. It formed a picture in my mind about my tastes. Running shoes and black military style boots sat, neatly on the floor. A laundry hamper sat in a corner and the clothes hanging over the edge caught my eye. Camouflage gear. Definitely military. Picking up the shirt, I brought it to my nose, inhaling the fabric which still had remnants of sweat around the armpits. A flash came to me. Sudden and fierce.
“What are you reading, Reno?” Viper asked, swigging water from his flask as we sat in the army helicopter waiting to take off to our classified location somewhere in the Afghan mountains.
We were fitted out in our full military gear, ready to fight. The rundown had been rebel soldiers had overtaken a tiny mountainous settlement. There had already been bloodshed. We were heading in to end it and to retrieve any survivors.
Viper sat beside me. Reno opposite, poring over a letter like his life depended on it. Six other troops were settling into their seats, belting up.
“Mind your own business, asshole.” He always joked with Viper. All the guys cussed and ribbed each other, especially right before a mission. It helped to keep things light, as if we weren’t about to be dropped into the middle of a war zone.
“Oooh. Reno’s got a girl. Who is she, Nevada? Some stripper from all the clubs you frequent? You finally been whipped by one?” Viper jeered, placing his water into the pocket of his backpack.
“Fuck you! This ain’t no stripper. She’s someone special.” Reno’s eyes fluttered to me but didn’t linger, his cheeks pinking. His fingers shook as he creased the page, folding it up and putting it back in its envelope and then into his top pocket like some good luck charm.
He didn’t normally show fear before battle, but as he sat there avoiding everyone’s eyes, he appeared rattled.
“You okay, man?” I asked, wondering if something in the letter had changed his mood.
Closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the fuselage of the chopper, he nodded. “Just got too much adren
alin pouring through my veins, that’s all.”
That better be it, because the team couldn’t afford to have him off his game.
The whir of the rotor started and we were soon airborne.
“Harley?”
I spun fast, squeezing the shirt I still held, letting the dregs of my memory slip away.
“You all right? What are you doing?” Mac looked to the shirt and then up at me.
Tossing the item of clothing back in the hamper, I faked a smile. “I think I remembered something. Just a memory of Reno.”
“Oh? You want to talk about it?”
“Nah. It’s nothing important.”
Mac appeared disappointed.
“If it’s anything I deem important, I’ll keep you updated, don’t worry.” Pushing past her, I scoured the bedroom for any identification or money.
Rummaging through a timber set of drawers beside the large, black sleigh bed, I pulled out some boxers and threw them on the bed.
“Can you check back in the closet for an overnight bag?” I asked Mac, while I continued to dig.
“Sure.” She padded off, leaving me to my own thoughts.
The bottom drawer housed some neatly folded shorts, so I pulled a couple of pairs out and tossed them with the boxers. Nothing other than clothes nestled inside the bureau.
Noticing one on the other side, I crawled across the white sheets, which had been neatly made, hospital tucks at each corner. Definitely military.
Spying something of significance atop the drawers, I picked them up, instantly knowing what they were. My black dog tags. A voice within told me this could be a significant break into finding out my true identity.
“Mac?”
“Yeah?” she called from the closet.
“I think I’ve found something.”
Turning to watch her, she exited with a black overnight back and placed it on the bed before walking around to me and sitting on the edge.
“This is awesome! Can I see?” She held out her delicate hand, so I placed the black metal in it. “It has your last name, social security number, and birth date on here.”
“Do you think the bank will let me access my accounts with these?”
“Let’s just keep searching first. See what else we can find. I’m pretty sure you’ll need photo ID.”
Handing me the dog tags, I put them in my pocket and searched the second set of drawers.
A tatty copy of James Patterson’s Along Came a Spider sat atop a few envelopes, so I lifted them out and began opening each one.
Mac had moved into the kitchen. Cupboards opened and closed, cutlery clinking. There must be something else we could find.
One of the letters opened was a receipt for a vehicle. My vehicle. I hadn’t ventured into the garage yet. A 2012 model Ford F-150. Color, black. Intriguing. But first I needed to search these other letters.
Finding nothing but old invoices and receipts, I closed the drawer and made my way out to Mac.
“Find anything else?” I asked, watching her shirt ride up as she stretched to a high cupboard above the stove.
“No. You?”
“Nothing but a vehicle receipt. I grinned. “I’m heading out to the garage to check my pickup.”
“You have a truck?”
“Going by a receipt I found. Yep.”
Before I took a step, her cell pealed out of her purse, which sat on the counter. Glancing at me, she dug it out and answered. “Hello?”
Deciding not to eavesdrop, I stalked to the garage, still being able to hear the one sided conversation.
“Good. We’re at his apartment now. You did? Great, we’ll come and pick it up.”
Silence.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll let him know. See you soon.”
Intrigue left me the moment I found the shiny black truck in front of me. Fat tires made her appear beefy. The chrome on her front grill sparkled to perfection. I’d taken pride in my stuff.
Opening the driver’s door, I climbed in and sat behind the wheel, getting a feel for her. The interior was also black and as clean as a whistle. The glove compartment beckoned me. If there were any documents I needed to keep pertaining to the vehicle, they would be in there.
A flashlight sat beside a travel pack of tissues, and underneath lay a driver’s manual along with a registration document. Bingo. Another form of ID I may be able to use. Folding it back up, I scanned the rest of the interior, not finding anything else.
Mac appeared at the door leading from the garage into the living room.
“Trudy called.”
“What did she want, and how did she have your number?”
“We swapped numbers at the park. She’s on her way over with a copy of your marriage certificate.”
I wasn’t sure how to react to that. Another great form of identification, but it also confirmed the vows I’d taken with a woman I knew nothing about. Having real proof frightened me.
Blowing out a breath, I combed my hair with my fingers. “Okay. I guess that’s good, right?”
Mac appeared crestfallen, but the strong woman in her attempted to hide it by plastering a fake smile on her face. “It’s great you’re finally getting pieces of the puzzle put together.”
Needing to touch her and appease her doubts, I stood before her in three strides. This close, I could hear her rapid breathing and sharp intake of breath.
“Angel?” I asked, hoping to draw her face up to mine.
As if unable to fight our combined static electricity, slowly her chin lifted and I peered into her magnificent eyes.
“Mmm?”
“You and me. This thing between us. I’m not gonna lose it. We’ll find a way to sort all the shit out and then I’m coming for you.”
She blinked twice and chewed the inside of her cheek. “You need to give Trudy a chance.”
Shuffling my feet, urging her backwards, I forced her back into the wall, leaning over her with my elbow above her head. “I don’t want Trudy. I want you. Even if I remember every damn thing I’ve ever done since birth, I’ll still want you.” I lowered my head, not touching her in any way, but filling her with my heat, showing her how much I meant every word.
“You feel that, Angel?”
She could only nod, while locked onto my laser-like attention.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about. You fill me up when you’re near, like a sweet elixir I need just to survive. It drives me crazy.”
Unable to maintain my no contact policy, I gripped her chin with my thumb and forefinger, holding her in place. Not that she could move with me all but plastered to her. My chest heaved, my heart absorbing her essence into every chamber.
“Give me the word. I want to taste that sweet mouth of yours. Jesus, woman. Don’t deprive me of that. It’s the only real thing I’ve got.”
My restraint dwindled fast as she dithered, fighting with her willpower. Her eyes glazed over. She could no more refrain from me than I could from her. The imperceptible assent of her head, the only invite I needed. Finally.
I drove my mouth forward like the starving beast she made me. Sweet heaven, the immediate relief scratched an itch. It would suffice for the time being, but without a doubt the itch would return stronger than ever.
I groaned into her mouth when her tongue licked mine, pressing my body tightly against hers, needing more than I knew she would give me, but relishing in it all the same. Our lips sealed together perfectly with just the right amount of pressure. Moving my hand from her chin to her choppy hair, I grasped her scalp, pulling her forward even further, unable to get enough.
Her mews spurred me on harder, my body officially leading the race. My head filled with the sensation of Mac. Nothing else.
“Lift your leg.”
She complied, giving me the leverage to hoist her up around my waist. Never breaking contact from her devastating lips, I spun and sat her on the hood of my pickup. It felt animalistic. My hands took on a life of their own, moving furiously as I ground into her
. She nipped at my lower lip, sounds erupting from her throat when I hit the spot she needed me most.
Both her hands cupped my ass as she perched on the edge of my hood, her ankles crossed at my lower back.
Everything in me quieted in her presence. Her ability to erase my anxiety gave me the balm I needed to simply exist. I needed that. I needed her.
“Harley…” she whimpered, her head floppy as she angled it to the side, offering me the elegant column to suck and lick.
An inferno of desire burned my loins, threatening to turn me to ash. I bit into her neck teasingly, and then soothed it with a large swipe of my tongue. She cried out. Desperate.
Groping underneath her shirt, I found my target and gloved her ample breasts, squeezing and kneading in between flicking her rock hard capsules.
“Yessss. That feels amazing,” she crooned, her head thrusting back.
So far she hadn’t pushed me away, so I let my hands feather down her sides to her jeans, where I found the button and popped it open. Still she let me continue.
“So beautiful,” I admired. A goddess. Without a doubt. Her flat stomach led to a fully waxed opening between her legs that had me sucking in air sharply. My head dropped to watch as I pushed her jeans and white lace panties down in one swoop. The sight of her bare before me nearly had me detonate there and then, but I held it together by a thread, not wanting to appear like a horny teen with no self-control.
A hand slid down and nestled between her legs, cupping her first and then sliding backwards and forwards on her slick folds. She shuddered on the brink, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to finish her off.
“Does it feel good, having me adore you like this?” I ground out.
“God, yes. I can’t hold on much longer. It’s been so long…” She cut herself off, perhaps not wanting to remind either of us about her dry spell. A gorgeous woman had needs and deserved to be taken care of. I offered her that. Right here. Right now.
“Fuck, Angel. Invite me in. Now.” The anticipation of penetrating her silky channel with my fingers was killing me.
The Lost and Found Series Page 15