by Alie Garnett
“What are you doing here?” she demanded of him.
“I was tired, and you weren’t getting up, so I left you down there.” He wondered if his explanation made sense to her.
“Well, I’m up now, so you can have your bed back.”
“Okay, but I’m only in my boxers,” he warned her with a grin.
“And I’m not nearly naked?” she bit back.
“It’s little different for you, Doc, your body doesn’t announce what it’s thinking.” He talked around it, though it was painful as he looked at her bare legs in the moonlight.
“You have a hard-on? Get over yourself, Holden. I’ve seen plenty of them over the years.” She shook her head, sending her hair swirling around her.
“I like to think mine is special.”
She raised a brow at him. “All guys do. So, either you leave my bed or make room. I have four more hours of sleep before my run.”
“I came up here to not sleep with you.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, hard-on be damned. She didn’t care, anyway.
“Nothing you have interests me.” Despite what she said, her eyes went south for a long second.
“Nothing?” he questioned as he got to his feet and walked up to her. The corner of his mouth pulling up in a mischievous smile.
“Nope, not a thing.” Her fingers were still on the hem of her shirt, fiddling with it now.
With a finger, he traced her jawline. “I think you’re lying, Dylan.”
“I am not,” she sputtered but stayed frozen to the spot.
Looking into her dark eyes in the moonlight, he ran his fingers down her arms to her hands, taking each one in his as he brought them to his lips and kissed them lightly. Then he brought them back to her sides. He let her go for a moment, then his hands slid around her waist.
With their eyes still locked, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and started pulling it up, ever so slowly, watching for signs she didn’t want this. None came when the shirt broke their eye contact as he lifted it over her head.
Her fingertips brushed his chest, and the light touch had him groaning her name. Dragging her into him, his mouth caught hers in a soul-draining kiss. As their lips and tongues battled for control, their hands were everywhere at once. All the fighting they had done since the beginning was now focused on this.
Holden moved across the small room until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and in one fluid motion, he took her down with him. His eyes avoided the necklace with the gold band on it, focusing more on the breasts around it. He guided her onto his lap so that she straddled him, but the bullet wound got in the way, so he lifted her off with a growl and rolled her underneath him. The new position allowed him to gaze at her firm breasts as she heaved for breath, letting him just look.
With a grin, he took a nipple in his mouth and reveled in the feel of it, the perfectness of the moment. He wanted to take it slow and savor every moment of this. But she had other ideas.
Without him noticing, she had slid out of her panties and was making fast work of his boxers. After running his hands over her breasts and stomach, he headed lower, only to have her grab them and pull them away from her core.
“No need for that, I’m wet already,” she whispered as she rolled him onto his back. She was in control now.
Within seconds, she had slipped a condom on him and had slid her tight little body onto his shaft. Groaning at the sensation of being encased in her, he wished they had all the time in the world.
Her hands went to her hair as she increased the tempo until she was moaning. Before he could get his hands on her perfect, full breasts, an orgasm exploded through her, which had her squeezing his cock, bringing him to an early climax.
And just like that, it was over. He lay there panting as she climbed off him. With energy he didn’t possess, he sat up and took off the condom, tossing it in her trash. He rolled over and gathered her in his arms, but she pushed him away, mumbling about how hot she was.
Once again, he knew she had fallen asleep because of how her body finally relaxed. He looked at her as she lay in the moonlight, her hair a mess and her body covered in a delicate sheen of sweat.
They had just had sex, and she had treated it like everything else in her life: with order and regiment. He could’ve been anyone with a cock for all she cared—it wasn’t about him; it was about her getting off. What he wanted didn’t matter, only that she got what she needed from him.
Knowing he wouldn’t sleep after that, he got up, not carrying if he woke her this time. Holden watched her as he pulled on his clothes, but she didn’t move despite him making as much noise as he could. Her bare back was all he saw when he looked at her. He could see faint lines running across the creamy white skin. Though faint, somehow, he knew they were scars from a belt.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, he brushed his hand gently over them. There were dozens of them. There was so much she didn’t, wouldn’t, talk about with him. Probably with anyone.
As he got up, Holden realized he wanted more from her than just sex. He wanted to know her and understand what made her the way she was. Maybe even show her that she could enjoy life…if she let him.
Chapter 11
Avoiding Holden Marquez had turned into a game—a game she was pretty good at. Or maybe he wasn’t looking for her, making it only seem like she was good at the game, when there was actually no game at all.
It had been two weeks since they had sex, and she knew he was back with his unit; back where he belonged. More importantly, he was not in a room on her way to the stairs. As hard as she tried not to, her eyes also looked at his old door on the way by, even though she knew he was long gone.
Sitting in her office in the middle of the day, she finally had a moment to herself. She had the door shut and the lights off, trying to meditate—though she had never done it before, so she had no idea what she should be doing. Instead, sex with Holden was playing over and over in her mind.
Sex was probably why he had left that night, or more likely, not wanting to have sex with her again. There was no way she could ever kid herself into thinking he had enjoyed it; she hadn’t enjoyed it all that much herself.
Wishing she could go back and let him lead the way wasn’t going to help, so she pushed all thoughts of him back into the pit of the past where they belonged. She didn’t need his approval or his admiration. She was her own person, and she made her own rules.
Light from the hallway suddenly blared into the room, causing her to squint. Elissa pushed her way into the room with a smile. Shut doors meant nothing to the bubbly woman.
“Got a headache, Dyl?” she asked in concern.
“No, just relaxing,” she told her friend who was always concerned about her health.
“Oh, sorry! I just have a few reports for you to sign, then I’ll leave you alone.” She shoved the files into Dylan’s hands as she turned on the office lights.
“Okay.” Dylan sighed and started scribbling her signature on all the papers that needed it. The shaking had lessened while she had been in the dark, but it wasn’t gone completely.
“Maybe you should just call him. I can get his number.” Elissa watched her hand.
“I don’t need to call him. It was a one-time thing.” Another document was signed and she immediately regretted telling Elissa anything. But the woman had a way of getting her to tell all her secrets. Or some of them, at least.
“You’ve been more on edge since it happened, and you’re already on edge all the time as it is! I have knives duller than you, Dylan,” Elissa said in exasperation.
“Thanks, I sound like a pleasant person.” Dylan handed all the folders back to her.
“You are, Dyl, one of my favorites. But you are unique,” Elissa pressed carefully.
“I would take that as a compliment, but I don’t really think it is.”
“It was, it definitely was. Now I have a surprise for you.” Elissa hugged the folders to her, eyes twinkling.
“What?”
Dylan hated surprises, there were never happy ones.
“I might have called him.” She slapped her hand to her mouth, covering a smile.
“Who?”
She was still covering her mouth as she said, “Holden.”
“Why!?” she demanded, hating how her heart was fluttering at the mere mention of his name.
“Because that’s what friends do. You would do the same for me.” She started backing from the room, still grinning at Dylan.
“Just call him back and tell him it was a mistake!” she yelled after the woman who was already out the door.
His handsome, smiling face then leaned over and looked at her through the open door, saying, “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Scrubbing her hands over her face, she cursed under her breath. She wished seeing him didn’t make her happy and that she could ignore the flip-flop of her heart.
“Missed you too, Dylan.” Holden calmly walked into the room. He was in full fatigues today and was completely covered in sand, even around his smile and dark eyes. She had to admit he made a dirty soldier look good.
“Captain,” she responded professionally, hoping she kept every ounce of excitement out of her voice.
“It’s Holden. I wanted to see you.” He sat in the lone visitor chair in her office, his presence taking over the entire room.
“I’m working right now.” She lifted her hands and gestured vaguely around her office, still not turning to look at him completely.
“I needed to see you, Dylan. I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice suddenly took on a more serious note.
“Elissa called you,” she reminded him.
“Her call just had me coming before showering and getting pretty for you.” He grabbed her knee and spun her in her chair toward him.
“Quit flirting, Captain.” She looked at his hand on her knee. Her heart picked up its already quickened pace.
Holden just looked at her for moment before saying, “I’ve decided that what you need is a little romance in your life.” He pulled her chair closer to his by her leg, and damn if that chair didn’t just slide right up to him.
“The last thing I need is romance,” she argued, but her voice faltered just a little.
“I can’t not romance you, Dylan. Everything inside me tells me you need this. All of it.” His hand slid up her knee, then up her side, around her shoulder, and behind her neck.
She let it happen, and truthfully, she wanted what he was planning. To her surprise, he leaned into her as he pulled her even closer toward him. His lips brushed against hers ever so lightly, just a touch and a warm breath against her closed mouth. Then it was gone.
Sitting back, he smiled at her as if he knew he’d knocked her completely off kilter. Leaning away from her again, he returned his hand on her knee.
“When are you done here today?” he asked as his thumb made a lazy circle over her inner thigh.
“Tomorrow morning.” Every one of her nerves was pinpointed to her thigh as she watched his hand instead of his face.
“Then you’ll sleep?”
Her breath stopped as his hand slowly inched upward. “Yes.”
“I’ll come and get you tomorrow later in the day and take you to eat. Whatever meal it happens to be.” His hand stopped just short of the seam of her scrubs.
“No,” she whispered, wondering if it was in response to his offer or because his hand had stopped.
With a slow smile, he leaned forward again, and she could feel his breath on her ear when he whispered, “Yes.”
A shiver ran down her spine at that one word, with all its promise and threat. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the sensations washing over her.
The annoying chime on her phone had her on her feet before she could warn him of what it was. Picking the thing off her desk, she read where she was needed, then turned to him. She didn’t actually know what to say. Did she explain what was happening? Could he guess?
“Go, Dylan. See you tomorrow.” He didn’t get up, only smiled at her. He didn’t need her to explain her job to him.
Out the door without a word, she headed to the OR. Elissa would be there almost as soon as Dylan would. They were in the same OR this week.
Pulling on the protective material over her scrubs, she hoped that her hands wouldn’t fail her today. It was getting worse over the last couple of months, not better, and nothing she had tried had helped yet. She knew she was losing her edge when Elissa offered to help her tie the back of her scrubs for her.
Chapter 12
Romancing the doctor had become the only thing he could think of. If he wasn’t on a mission, he was coming up with ways to woo the amazing, prickly woman in the middle of a war zone.
Flowers were obviously not happening. Such an easy thing back in the States was impossible in the desert. Instead, he had drawn her a picture of them and left them on her desk. After hours of fighting for someone’s life, she would come back to them.
Next, he had mailed a letter containing another drawing of different flowers, knowing she would get them when she picked up her mail after work. He wished he could see her face when she saw either one—would she just think he was cheesy?
Dylan had been right that it had taken Elissa’s call to kick him in the pants about the doctor. In the two weeks since he had left her bed, he had thought about her nonstop, but not enough to talk to her.
But Elissa had changed that with her matter-of-factness about the small part of Dylan’s life that she knew. That she was a loner, to the point that she never got letters, ever. Not from family, friends, or old colleagues; all relationships were short-term in her life, and most sexual ones ended after the first date. She never went for a man who pursued her—she always pursued them.
Sadly, the woman had said nothing Holden hadn’t already known from talking to her…and from snooping in her room. Elissa didn’t know about the letters she got from her family; the ones she’d left unopened.
What Elissa did tell him was that Dylan was burning out. It was taking everything out of her to keep up the pace she was at, and she was starting to fail. Elissa was concerned that if Dylan didn’t find an outlet for her tension, she would be stateside soon.
After almost two years of serving in the desert, burnout was a distinct possibility; even he could tell she was nothing but a working machine. No one could live their life that way without burning out in the end, which was why he was redoubling his effort to get her to relax and enjoy herself. He would do it for his brother, not for himself. Even if it seemed she was trying to kill herself.
Knocking on her door, he hoped he had given her enough time to sleep; she clearly needed it. He began to worry that she was avoiding him again when he had to knock a second time. When she finally opened the door, her dark hair was still wet, and her feet were bare.
“I didn’t think you would be this early,” she said as she turned away from him to grab a perfectly folded pair of socks from her dresser.
“Sorry, I didn’t give you a time.” He stepped in and watched as she pulled on the socks and then her boots.
While she was looking away, he pulled out the three chocolate candy bars he had purchased on the way over and set them on her dresser in a neat pile. It wasn’t quite what bringing candy to your lover looked like, but it was as close as he was going to get. Sadly, they were already partially melted and would be worse after spending a few hours in this room. Her eyes watched him, but she didn’t comment about it.
He wasn’t sure if he had thought she’d wear something other than fatigues to dinner, but then again, he knew she didn’t have anything else. Her damp hair hid her face as she tied the laces on her boots.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked when she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair to push it off her face.
“Usually,” she answered as she grabbed a shirt from the closet and slid it over her T-shirt.
“Is usual good or bad?”
“Like the dead for hours, and then
more fitfully. Have you been out since I saw you?” She finished buttoning the shirt, leaving him missing the form-fitting T-shirt.
“Yeah, this morning. It went well.” He didn’t go into it; there was nothing that made it exciting or interesting. Nothing like watching her fingers braid her thick hair, which was interesting.
“Well, that’s good.” She tied it off and added her hat before adding, “Ready.”
Grinning, he stepped close to her, and with his thumb, touched her pink lip before trailing it down to her chin, raising it so he could brush a light kiss over her mouth. He fought the urge to deepen it, to kiss her like he wanted to. Instead, he rained kisses over her face and to her ear where he whispered, “You look beautiful today, Dylan.”
“I didn’t try to,” she sighed and let him kiss her again.
“You don’t have to.” His lips brushed hers again, and though she leaned into it, he pulled away. This wasn’t about sex; this was about him showing her that there was more to a relationship than sex.
Without another word, he took her hand in his and led her from the room and out of the building. He was half-surprised that she went willingly and didn’t even say anything about holding his hand in public.
Three hours later, after a hot walk around the hospital, they were still hand in hand. They talked over supper at the canteen, mostly about nothing—Dylan didn’t talk about herself easily. And now that they were “dating,” they didn’t talk about his brother. When Holden had brought him up, she had shut down the conversation quickly.
Now he had her back pressed against her door and was kissing her neck. Though his hands were on the wall above her head, she didn’t move away from him. In fact, she was giving him every signal to move their “conversation” to the bedroom. And as much as he wanted that, he had a mission to accomplish with her.
Moving from her neck and across her chin to her lips, he felt rather than heard her murmurs of approval. As her hands ran up his chest, he finally deepened the kiss, letting her have her way. His tongue met hers when her fingers dug into his shirt, pulling him even closer to her.