Keeping a Warrior

by Melanie Hansen

  When it was finally time to leave the outpost, and the Chinook carrying them rose into the sky, Rhys touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

  Devon could only shake her head. “I’m leaving a huge chunk of my heart here, Rhys.”

  He threaded their fingers together and squeezed her hand, his eyes conveying his understanding.

  Devon squeezed back.

  In more ways than one.

  Chapter Eighteen

  They made it to Kandahar without incident, then almost immediately boarded a C-17 bound for Ramstein Air Base in Germany. Rhys waited until Devon spread out her woobie before kneeling next to her, hoping...

  With a smile, she pulled him down and they spent the entire flight wrapped in each other’s arms, uncaring who saw. Rhys stroked her hair as she slept on his chest, her warm weight and soft breathing a balm to his weary soul.

  Aaron crouched down at one point, his eyes troubled. “Hey, man, I need to tell you about Lani—”

  Rhys held up his hand. “Not now. Please.” He didn’t want to think about Lani while he had Devon so sweetly nestled against him. There’d be time for all that later, when they got back to Coronado. He and Devon had earned the little interlude to come, and Rhys was determined they both enjoy it.

  After landing, the platoon strode down the ramp and commandeered a passing pickup truck, demanding the driver take them to Landstuhl immediately.

  Stinking of combat, bushy beards and all, the SEALs swarmed into the military hospital and made obnoxious nuisances of themselves until someone looked Shane up on a computer and directed them to his floor.

  When they stomped off the elevator, a burly male nurse was there to meet them.

  “Two at a time,” he started to say, but the platoon brushed him aside like a gnat and all fifteen of them—plus Devon—crowded into Shane’s room.

  Rhys, caught at the back of the pack, couldn’t really see anything, but he heard the horrified exclamations.

  “Jesus, Hov! You get your face caught in a meat grinder or something?”

  “What the hell, buddy?”

  When Rhys finally caught a glimpse of him, he winced. Shane’s head was wrapped in what looked like miles of bandages, and what could be seen of his face puffy and bruised. The skin around his eyes was blackened, the whites of his eyeballs themselves streaked with red.

  There was no mistaking that high-wattage smile, though. “Do I look that bad?”

  “Well, you never looked that good, to be honest.”

  “Ugly motherfucker, you.”

  To avoid jostling him, guys patted his legs, his belly, his hands, their concern evident under the gruff jokes and crude humor. Matt stood off to the side, his agitation increasing, until finally Devon called out, “Hey, guys, go get some coffee and give Shane a breather. I’m sure we all stink to high heaven.”

  “Yeah, you kinda do,” the nurse snarked from the hallway, his jaw clenched. The SEALs, totally unconcerned with his annoyance, clapped him on the shoulder as they passed.

  “Take a real good whiff, son, ’cause we’re gonna be back,” Smudge growled. “Point us to the coffee.”

  Before the door had even closed, Matt had already bent over the bed to stroke his thumb across Shane’s lips. “You really gonna be okay?” he choked out as Shane pulled him down for a kiss.

  Devon grabbed Rhys’s biceps. “Make sure no one comes in,” she hissed. “They need a minute alone.”

  With a nod, Rhys slipped out to lean against the wall next to the closed door, where he proceeded to engage in a staring contest with the pissed-off nurse, who acted like he wanted to go in.

  “Nope,” Rhys grunted. “You’re gonna give my friends five minutes.”

  Five minutes, after days of agonizing worry. If only the nurse could understand what Matt had gone through. As tough as he himself was, he doubted he would’ve held it together half as well after seeing Devon fragged by shrapnel right in front of him.

  And you’re gonna have to let her go right back to Afghanistan. You know that, right? She’ll be in harm’s way every single day.

  The thought made him want to puke, even as his fear warred with his immense pride in her.

  It was more like fifteen minutes before the rest of the guys got back, coffee, soda and candy bars in hand, and it was a party around Shane’s bed until the nurse finally prevailed on them to let him rest.

  Grumbling, they complied. Someone went down to the lobby to arrange for the base duty driver to pick them up.

  Rhys gripped Shane’s hand in goodbye.

  “I’m weak as a kitten from the blood loss,” Shane said, “or else I’d bust out of here with you.”

  “Nah, just stay here and get better, man.” Rhys nodded toward Matt, who was trying to get answers about Shane’s condition from the nurse. “He’s been wrecked. I don’t think he could take it if you had a relapse.”

  Matt didn’t want to leave, but along with Devon’s cajoling, Rhys managed to pry him loose by pointing out he smelled like shit mixed with cordite, and that he might give Shane flashbacks of the outpost and ambush if he didn’t shower and change.

  “I actually don’t remember the ambush,” Shane muttered to Rhys. “Or anything about that day at all. The whole thing’s a blank.”

  “Work with me here,” Rhys muttered back. “Dude’s running on fumes. He needs a nap and a shower.”

  Finally they were all ensconced in the duty van, which whisked them to the Base Exchange so they could load up on toiletries and snacks.

  “I need to buy a weed whacker for my hairy legs,” Devon said ruefully to Rhys. “You think they’ll let me bring it home?”

  At the transient quarters they checked in and received their rooming assignments. Of course Devon had a room to herself. “Give me an hour, okay?”

  It was an interminable hour as Rhys and Smudge took turns showering. Smudge didn’t bother to shave his beard, as anxious as he was to go call Darla, and soon he’d banged out the door.

  Rhys took the time to get his cheeks baby-smooth, anticipation roiling through him at an almost unbearable pitch. He braced his hands on the edge of the sink, willing his body to calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was knock on Devon’s door with drool on his chin and an erection tenting out his pants.

  Right on the dot of sixty minutes, Rhys slipped into clean sweats and a T-shirt, the soft fabric feeling strange on his skin after months of salt-stiffened uniforms and body armor. He picked up his duffel that contained a new box of condoms and a change of clothes, then padded down the hall to Devon’s room.

  Be cool, man. Just follow her lead. Let her set the pace. She’s in charge.

  The entirety of his personal pep talk flew out the window when Devon opened the door. She wore nothing but a brief towel, her brown hair a soft cloud that flowed over her bare, freckled shoulders.

  “God, Devon...” he choked on a wave of pure desire.

  Grabbing his hand, Devon tugged him inside, the duffel dropping unnoticed to the floor as every sweet, perfumed inch of her melted into his arms.

  Her kiss was spicy sweet, her tongue slick and agile. Rock hard and aching by the time she pulled back, Rhys clenched his fingers in the towel about her hips, desperate to touch.

  Devon stroked his cheek, her eyes soft and luminous. “Put your hands on me.”

  Loosening the towel, she let it slip to the floor, her taut body pressing against his from chest to knee, so close Rhys could feel the tight buds of her nipples even through the soft cotton of his T-shirt.

  He ripped the offending shirt over his head, and she hummed her approval against his throat as he ran trembling hands along her back and down to her ass, the firm smoothness of those plump cheeks sending his blood racing.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, catching his breath when she traced his rigid length with teasing fingers. “Jesus, Devon!”

  With a low laugh, she sank to her knees in front of him and eased his sweatpants down inch by inch. When his cock sprang fr
ee, they both moaned. Wrapping her fingers around it, Devon licked the head and smacked her lips at the taste. The sight of her on her knees, all tangled hair and pink-tipped breasts, made Rhys clench his teeth in a mighty struggle for control.

  “I’m about to embarrass myself here,” he grunted, every muscle tight.

  “I know.” Devon dragged her tongue through another slick bead of precome. “That’s why we’re gonna take the edge off right now.”

  What followed was like nothing Rhys had ever experienced. The wet heat of Devon’s mouth, the pressure of her throat, the sight of his cock stretching her swollen lips wide—it was like every dirty fantasy he’d ever had come to life.

  Only a million times better.

  Devon took him to the root, with a growling enthusiasm that ratcheted his enjoyment up to heart attack levels. Her hair was silky soft in his fingers, and she rested her hands on his hips, encouraging him to thrust.

  He did, harder and harder, until he was outright fucking her mouth...until his orgasm boiled up from his aching balls and emptied them in hard, wrenching spurts down her throat. She swallowed everything before licking him clean.

  “Mmm.” She kissed her way back up his body to plaster herself against him. “You taste so good.”

  The aftershocks still rocketing through him, Rhys yanked her close. “Was I too rough?” he whispered, an agony of guilt warring with satiation. “I’m sorry.”

  She stopped his words with her lips, the salty taste of them dark, thrilling. “I like it rough.”

  “But—”

  Devon wound her arms around Rhys’s neck and stroked his nape with her thumb. “I told you what my hard limits were. Fucking my mouth isn’t one of them. Smacking my ass till it turns red isn’t one of them.”

  At the visual, renewed heat pooled in Rhys’s belly. He gulped.

  She noticed, her lips quirking. “I’ve learned to be very vocal about my needs, and if something isn’t working for me, I’ll tell you. The difference between you and other guys is that I know you’ll listen.”

  Rhys buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair, and they clung together for long minutes, kissing, nuzzling, hands roaming.

  At last Rhys pulled back and gazed down into her heavy-lidded, slumberous eyes. He brushed his lips over the tip of her nose, then gave her bottom a slap.

  “Get on the bed.”

  * * *

  Devon’s pulse skipped and started to race. Her ass cheek stinging deliciously, she backed toward the queen-sized bed.

  “How do you want me?” she purred, biting her lip against a smile when Rhys grunted, “I want you to—show me your...”

  He trailed off, cheeks turning bright red at his failed attempt at dirty talk.

  “Mmm.” Devon gracefully arranged herself in the middle of the bed and let her knees fall to the sides. “Like this?”

  Swallowing visibly, Rhys glued his eyes to her freshly trimmed pussy.

  His slack-jawed admiration gave Devon a much-needed ego boost and, feeling feminine and powerful, she held her hand out to him. “Come here, baby,” she murmured. “I need you.”

  The bed dipped as he joined her on it. Propping himself up on one elbow next to her, Rhys splayed his palm low on her stomach, hesitated, then slid two fingers down into her slickness.

  “Ohhh.” Devon arched her back when he grazed her clit, her nipples stiffening at the zing of sensation. “Don’t stop.”

  He dipped his head to kiss her while he explored and played, until Devon was gasping against his lips. “Please...”

  Mouthing his way down her body, Rhys left fire in his wake, his tiny sucking nibbles making her writhe.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, at last settling himself between her widespread legs. He drifted his lips along one inner thigh. “So soft. You smell so good.”

  Parting her folds with his thumbs, he licked her gently, and she reached down to comb her fingers through his hair. “A little harder this time,” she encouraged him.

  In the next instant she was yelping. “Not that hard! Ow!”

  He dropped his forehead to her belly and groaned. “Sorry. It’s been a while.”

  Shaking with laughter, Devon gave a gentle tug on his hair. “Try again. No teeth, lots of tongue.”

  Rhys brushed an apologetic kiss over her abused clit before spreading her wide once more. His first licks were light, tentative, but as Devon’s enjoyment grew, so did his confidence. The hot, wet swirls soon had her moaning, her hips moving restlessly.

  “That’s it,” she panted, fingertips resting on the back of his head. “Feels amazing, Rhys.”

  “Tastes amazing,” he growled in response, flicking the tip of his tongue hard over the swollen bud, again and again. “You’re so wet for me. I can’t wait to bury myself inside you.”

  His words, the moist inner lining of his lips as he sucked on her, the lashing of his tongue, kicked Devon over the edge. She arched up into his mouth with a cry of his name, fingers of one hand tangled in his hair, the other clenched in the sheets over her head.

  Rhys didn’t let up as the wave of pleasure crested, pushing her higher, until she shattered again, only to fall back into the mattress, limp and panting. He rested his cheek on her quivering thigh, eyes closed, his palm splayed over her belly.

  Combing her fingers through his hair, Devon fought back tears.

  I’m going to miss you. Your unselfishness, the million little ways you care for me. I had no idea how much I needed someone like you in my life.

  “Hey, you,” she croaked. “Get up here.”

  He kissed his way toward her waiting lips, taking his sweet old time, with stops at her navel, her nipples, her throat. When he at last settled his mouth over hers, Devon clutched him, desperation in her grip.

  Don’t want to let you go.

  Rhys’s erection dug into her hip, his heart beating a mile a minute against her palm. He drove his tongue deep, sharing the sweet saltiness of her own flavor with her.

  “Make love to me, Rhys.” Devon grabbed up one of the condom packets she’d strewn over the bed earlier and tore it open, reluctantly letting go of him so he could kneel between her legs to roll it on.

  “You look so pretty,” he rasped, hands on her knees spreading her wide. “I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this.”

  He teased her aching clit with the sheathed head of his cock, circling it over and over, until, with one powerful thrust, Rhys buried himself to the root.

  Devon raked her nails down his sweat-slick back, and his breath hissed out between his teeth.

  “You’re killing me, darlin’,” he gasped into her ear. “You’re killing me.”

  Stuffed full of him, Devon wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, buried her face in his shoulder and hung on tight. “Fuck me.”

  Planting his knees on the bed, Rhys stroked into her, hard, giving her every inch.

  “Oh, God,” she cried. “Feels so good. Don’t stop.”

  Rhys pushed up on his hands and hung his head to watch. “Touch yourself, baby. I need you to come.”

  As she slid her trembling fingers down to rub her clit, Rhys suddenly surrounded one pebbled nipple with hot suction. He drew it deep, tugged at it, groaning as her pussy clenched tightly around him in response.

  “That’s it,” he growled around his mouthful of breast. “Come all over my cock. Let me feel it.”

  Devon’s clit swelled under her fingers just as Rhys scraped his teeth over her nipple, the double jolt of sensation sending another climax sweeping over her. She arched beneath him, crying out her pleasure.

  He followed her a half dozen thrusts later, his big body shaking in her arms, his cock throbbing deep inside. Devon held him close until he calmed, palms sweeping up and down his back, knees still hugging his ribs.

  I love you.

  The words crowded into her throat, but Devon refused to let them free; it wasn’t fair to him. Not when she was leaving.

  After he’d dealt with the condom a
nd returned to bed, Rhys propped the pillows up and lay back with a sigh, stretching his arm out to pull Devon against his chest. She put her cheek on his shoulder and twirled her fingers through the hair between his pecs, wishing she could bottle the smell of his skin, the sound of his quiet breathing.

  “You okay?”

  It took several seconds before Devon could answer without the sound of tears in her voice. “Yeah.”

  “Thinking about Shane?”

  That sounded better than the truth, that she was grieving the impending goodbye.

  “Thinking about everything.”

  And suddenly, she was. The frightened Afghan women and children, the insurgent she’d killed, the smell of Shane’s blood...

  Rhys tightened his arm around her when she shuddered.

  “I’m here,” he whispered, his lips at her temple. “I’m here.”

  Devon rolled on top of him. “Then help me forget, Rhys.”

  Give me a good memory to hold on to.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rhys opened his eyes to early morning light flowing into the room. Devon stood at the window, gazing out at the dawn, a sheet wrapped loosely around her, tangled hair wild about her shoulders.

  God, how he loved her.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he rasped, and with a smile, she came to perch next to him on the bed.

  Brushing his hair back from his forehead, she leaned down to kiss him gently. “Hey, sweet man. Ready to go home today?”

  His chest tightened. No. Not ready to say goodbye to you yet.

  But all he said was, “Yeah.”

  Her expression told him he hadn’t fooled her at all. “You know, I was thinking, maybe I could ask Beck for a delay—”

  “No!” His vehemence made her eyes widen, and he reached up to cup her cheek. “Honey, this is your time. You’ve worked so hard for this chance, overcome so much. This is an amazing opportunity for you, and this is your time, Devon.”

  “Ah, Rhys.” When she bent to kiss him again, he could taste the salt from her tears. “I love you.”

  Joy swept through him like wildfire. With a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, he pulled her to the bed, rolling her over so he could look down into her face. “Really? You mean it?”