The Trainer (military romantic suspense) (The Dregs Book 5)

by Leslie Georgeson

  A contemplative look crossed her face. “You want me to be totally honest?”

  I looked into her eyes. “I always want you to be honest, Nishi. Don’t be afraid to speak your mind.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, the action drawing my gaze. Damn. I wanted to suck her bottom lip into my mouth like that. I wanted to latch onto those soft lips and kiss her into oblivion.

  She lifted her gaze back to mine. “What I want more than anything is for you to kiss me again.”

  Desire shot through me, reminding me that though I had vowed to remain celibate, it was no longer possible. Not with Nishi. I had felt an instant attraction the night I’d found her in the bed of my truck, and that attraction had simply grown the more I was around her. The more I knew about Nishi, the more I liked her. She was an amazing young woman who had been through a lot, and I really didn’t know much about her. I wanted to spend time getting to know her better. I had no idea what might happen over the next several hours. I had a hard time resisting her. I feared if I kissed her again, if put my hands on her, I might not be able to let her go.

  “I would like that, too. But first, let’s make breakfast.”

  She smiled, relief crossing her features. “I would like that. I can cook you some okaya if you want. I used to have it with my mother back in Japan.”

  My brain quickly processed the foreign word “okaya”, recognized it as Japanese, and gave me the description of “rice porridge”. My mind worked like a linguistics dictionary. It scanned a foreign word or phrase, interpreted its meaning back to me, and enabled me to respond to the speaker in that language, compiling the proper words to use. I guess you could say my brain was like a computer, scanning and processing foreign languages and spilling the meanings back to me. The General had used my skills in the past to interpret and then intercept the enemies’ plans. I could listen quietly through a door, or out in a hallway, while the targets were speaking in another language. My mind would then process those words, interpret their meanings, and we would know what they were about to do. I hadn’t used my dreg talent much since we had escaped our own slaughter a year ago. But now that I had the Black Dragons hunting me, I had a feeling I might be using my skill someday in the very near future.

  Though okaya sounded tasty, I wasn’t going to make Nishi cook for me. At least not right now. She was my guest here. I was going to take care of her, treat her like a queen. I wanted to pamper her, let her feel like a woman again.

  “How about if I cook for you instead? You’re my guest here, Nishi. I want to do nice things for you.”

  She hesitated, looking into my eyes. “Really? Are you sure? I’m not used to people doing things for me.”

  “Get used to it,” I replied. “As long as you’re with me, little one, I will take good care of you.”

  Her gaze softened. “You’re such a sweet man.” She hesitated. “Is it all right if I take a shower first? I’m all sweaty.”

  “Sure. My apartment is Room 4. Just come in when you’re ready. I’ll get started cooking.”

  She hesitated a moment longer, then opened the door to Gordon’s old apartment. I waited until she disappeared inside, then I turned away and headed to my own apartment. Once inside, I went to the kitchen to start breakfast.

  Ten minutes later Nishi strolled in, smelling clean and looking gorgeous, her short hair still damp from the shower. She was wearing some of the clothes I’d bought her—skinny jeans and a red sweater—her tiny femininity stirring something deep inside me. God, this girl was sexy.

  “That was fast.” I chuckled, turning away before I ended up ogling her inappropriately. “Ryan and Luke take longer to shower than you do.”

  She let out a soft laugh and settled onto one of the two bar stools at my kitchen counter. “I learned to be fast while a prisoner of the Black Dragons. I wasn’t allowed the luxury of actually enjoying a shower.”

  I cleared my throat, the image of “teaching her how to enjoy a shower” filling my mind and making desire sweep through me.

  Get your mind out of the gutter, you idiot.

  “I can help,” she offered.

  Shower? My face heated before I realized she had been talking about cooking, not showering.

  I shook my head. “No. You just relax. You like French toast?”

  “I have never had that, but I am sure I will like anything you make, Logan.”

  I grinned. “That’s good to hear. I’m not a chef by any means, but I can cook enough to survive. My partner Noah is the chef of our group.”

  Her brow shot up. “Noah is your partner? Like…how?”

  “He’s my dreg partner,” I explained. “You know, like when cops have a partner who goes out into the field with them? Dregs all have partners, too, someone they are teamed up with.”

  Interest sparkled in her eyes. “All the things I heard about the dregs are false. Will you tell me what it’s really like being a dreg?”

  Her genuine interest made it easy for me to open up to her. Nishi leaned across the counter, listening intently, while I told her about being a dreg, and finished preparing breakfast. I explained about being recruited when I was thirteen, about how The Company had given me memory-suppressing drugs to help wipe my mind clean. I told her about the injections of experimental drugs and animal DNA, and about the abuse and torture, all the things we were forced to endure in an attempt to make us stronger, to turn us into the perfect soldiers. I told her about my dreg talent, being able to interpret and speak any language in the world in just minutes, and that that was how I’d received the name The Trainer. I told her about the dreg bond that partners share, the ability to feel each other’s physical and emotional pain. I told her about our escape a year ago, and how one of us—Gordon, the one whose apartment she was staying in—was killed by the Rapsters gang several months ago. The only part I left out was Himari and what The General had done to her. I wasn’t ready to share that with Nishi. Maybe someday I would tell her about Himari. But not today.

  Then I slid onto the other bar stool, and we ate breakfast, side by side, in comfortable silence. Opening up to Nishi had not been as difficult as I’d originally imagined it would be. She was easy to talk to. She was understanding. And she didn’t judge me at all.

  “That is all so fascinating,” she said in between bites. “Especially the dreg bond. I’ve never heard of anything like it before. Is it possible for a dreg to share the same type of bond with a woman?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Four of my dreg brothers have fallen in love and moved away from here. I never really talked to any of them about their relationship with their women, as I didn’t think it was any of my business.”

  She nodded slowly. “That would be so awesome to have such a close bond with someone that you could literally feel their emotions and their physical pain. I’ve been alone most of my life, so to me, it would be just amazing to have such a close bond with someone.”

  My heart pinched at the idea of Nishi being so alone. I would do everything in my power to make sure she was never alone again. “Yeah. It can be helpful at times, but it can also be a bit overwhelming if one of us is seriously injured. I will agree that it is a unique bond.”

  We ate in silence for several moments, then I let my curiosity free. “What about you, Nishi? Tell me about yourself.”

  She finished her breakfast and set her fork on her empty plate. “There’s not much to share. I lived with my mother in Japan until my father stole me away to America when I was sixteen. I have been his prisoner here ever since. I wasn’t allowed to have any friends, I wasn’t allowed any outside influence of any kind. I’ve never even had a cellphone before. I was schooled in the ways of the shinobi and treated like all my father’s other men, except they weren’t locked in their rooms like I was. I wasn’t allowed to socialize with the other warriors. I was told to be quiet as a mouse at all times.” She paused, her gaze coming back to mine. “I’ve spent the past eight years desperately longing for a fri
end, for someone to talk to, someone to share with, someone to do things with.”

  I placed my hand over hers where it rested on the countertop. “I will be your friend, Nishi. Always.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She blinked rapidly. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  I slid off my stool. “Let me clean up, then we can do something else.”

  She gathered up her empty plate and followed me to the sink. “That was delicious, Logan. Thank you. Let me help you wash the dishes.”

  I decided not to argue, and together we washed and dried the dishes, then put everything away.

  “You want to watch a movie?” I asked.

  Her eyes lit up. “I haven’t seen a television in eight years. I would love, love, love to watch a movie with you.”

  “Great. Right this way.”

  I led her into the living room and turned on the television, clicking the Netflix button on the remote. She settled back on the couch next to me, sitting close, her thigh brushing mine and making me hyperaware of how good she smelled, how close she was. And how much I wanted her. She was so damn tempting. It would be difficult to keep my hands to myself.

  Nishi selected a comedy and settled back to watch the movie. Gradually, I relaxed next to her, and let myself just enjoy being with her.

  The movie was corny, ridiculous, but funny as shit. Nishi laughed out loud, the sound again stirring that longing deep inside me. Her laugh was sweet, contagious, and I laughed along with her. We laughed again and again over the next hour and a half, sometimes so hard we could barely breathe. It felt so damn good to laugh with her. To be carefree. To enjoy life.

  Nishi had snared me. Captured me with her beauty. Her sweetness. Her strength. Her courage. Her innocence…

  I was falling hard and fast for this girl.

  I wanted to keep on falling.

  And never touch the ground.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Nishi

  I don’t think I have ever laughed so hard in my life. The movie was ridiculously silly, and Logan and I laughed and laughed until tears ran down our faces and our stomachs hurt. When it was over, he turned the T.V. off and turned to me with a grin. He hadn’t touched me at all during the entire movie, even though I’d silently wished he would slip an arm around my shoulders and pull me against him. I even imagined him sliding his big hand over my thigh, and I waited in anticipation, hoping he would. But no, Logan was the perfect gentleman. He kept his hands to himself. What would it take to make him not be such a gentleman? I had admitted that I wanted him to kiss me again, and he’d said he would like that, too. So why wasn’t he kissing me? If I leaned over and kissed him right now, would he kiss me back? Or would he push me away?

  Our gazes met and my heart fluttered as we stared at each other.

  And then, he leaned toward me, slowly, and I leaned toward him, tilting my face up.

  My eyes drifted closed as our lips brushed. Softly. Gently. I reached for him, my hands twining around his neck, pulling him closer. He groaned softly, deepening the kiss, his tongue delving in to tangle with mine. His big hands moved to my hips, lifting me up and into his lap. I settled against him, threading my fingers through his soft, shaggy hair.

  We kissed.

  And kissed. Tongues mating, seeking, stroking, lips brushing, sliding together, sucking, pulling. Gasping. Moaning.

  Oh God. I rubbed against him, seeking more. I let my hands travel down over his hard biceps, feeling the strength in his rock-hard arms. I had always thought strong arms were so sexy on a man, especially when they were hard with muscles like Logan’s. He was simply the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. While I felt along his arms, squeezing his biceps, running my fingers along his forearms, feeling the strength beneath my hands, he, in turn, gently stroked up and down my sides, his thumbs brushing underneath my breasts. I squirmed, moving my hands to cover his, wanting him to touch me. Everywhere.

  “Logan.” It was a breathless plea.

  He swore softly and leaned back, breathing heavily. “Fuck. What you do to me, Nishi…” His gaze was hot, smoldering hot, as it latched on mine.

  “Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Touch me, Logan. Please.”

  He closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath. Why was he resisting all of a sudden? I took his hands and placed them over my breasts and held them there. He jerked his eyes open, his nostrils flaring. He swallowed hard. His hands were so big. They completely engulfed my small breasts.

  “Nishi…”

  “Touch me,” I pleaded, looking into his eyes.

  He lifted his head off the back of the couch and kissed me again. Hotly. So hotly. I shivered in longing, melting against him, moaning softly as he gently brushed his thumbs over my nipples through my sweater, making them harden into tight little nubs of desire. I needed to feel his hands against me, skin on skin. I needed…

  I snagged the hem of the sweater and yanked it over my head, baring myself before him. I wasn’t wearing a bra. My boobs were tiny, barely there, so I rarely wore bras. And after showering, I’d wanted to be wearing as little as possible so it would be easier to get naked if I managed to convince Logan to touch me. Did he care that my boobs were so tiny?

  His gaze darkened as he stared at me, his breath coming out in harsh pants. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice reverent. “You’re so beautiful.”

  I watched his eyes as he lifted his hands again, then paused, his gaze darting to mine. “Can I?”

  Yes, God yes!

  I nodded vigorously.

  His gaze still on mine, he gently stroked over my breasts, his touch igniting an instant flame inside me. I let out a soft whimper and leaned into his hands, closing my eyes.

  He shifted slightly, hefting me higher. I gasped as his mouth closed over my right breast, his tongue lapping, licking, his mouth sucking, leaving a wet trail of heat behind.

  Oh my God.

  I shuddered. “Logan,” I gasped out, squirming against his hot mouth. Desire raged, hot and fierce, deep in my core. A deep, intense throbbing pounded at the juncture of my thighs. So powerful. So needy. I clenched tightly, squeezing my thighs, but the throbbing only increased. “Please.”

  He left a hot, wet trail across my chest as he kissed his way to my other breast and latched onto it, lapping and sucking heartily. My entire body turned to jelly, sagging against him in desperate need. He shifted us, slowly turning, and gently laying me back on the couch. He leaned over me, supporting his weight with his arms, and slid his mouth over mine. I was so hot. So wet. So needy.

  I arched up against him, pelvis to pelvis, feeling the hard bulge in his jeans. The evidence of his arousal. A new jolt of need surged through me, making wetness pool at my core. He let out a soft groan, kissing me hotter, deeper. Then slowly, gently, he rocked his hips against mine. My hands went to his shoulders, then slid up into his hair, grasping at the soft strands, stroking, pulling. Needing.

  I arched up against him again, and our hips rocked together, over and over. Rubbing. Seeking. Grinding against each other. I didn’t know dry humping could be so erotic. A sexual dance. If it was this amazing with clothes in between us, how would it feel when we were naked?

  I was so lost in him, so lost in what he was doing to me, I couldn’t think beyond the sensations that were overtaking me. All I could do was feel. And what I felt was Logan. All Logan. Nothing but Logan. He consumed me. Completely. Every breath. Every touch. Logan.

  Slowly, through my lust-filled fog, a sound penetrated my senses, momentarily confusing me.

  A sharp rap, rap, rap at the door. Then footsteps approaching. Dazed, I opened my eyes, letting out a soft gasp as Noah came into my line of vision.

  “Oh shit, sorry.” Noah jerked away, his face turning red.

  Logan swore, reaching behind him to snag one of the couch pillows. He held it in front of me, covering my chest, as he bolted upright, and turned to glare at Noah.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  Noah cleared his throat.
“Sorry. I knocked at the door. I didn’t know she was in here with you.”

  Logan breathed out harshly through his nose. “What do you want?”

  Noah tossed a cellphone at him. Logan caught it, glancing back to Noah.

  “I brought Nishi a phone,” Noah announced. “So you can keep in touch if you need to. I programed your number in for her.”

  My heart warmed. That was sweet of him. “Thank you.”

  Noah jerked his head in a nod and glanced back at Logan.

  Logan heaved out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “That all?” He sounded irritated.

  “Yep.” Noah glanced back at me. “I apologize for the interruption, Nishi. You can, uh, get back to it.” He spun on his heel and hurried back out, closing the door behind him.

  An uncomfortable silence stretched. Logan pulled my sweater out from underneath him and handed it to me, avoiding my eyes. I swallowed nervously, quickly pulling it on. Once I was decently covered, he turned back to me and held out the phone Noah had brought for me.

  I took it, unsure what to say. Unsure what to do now.

  What would have happened if Noah hadn’t interrupted us? Would we be naked right now, our bodies entwined, as Logan joined his big, hard, sexy body with mine? Would we be straining, moaning, thrusting together right now, lost in each other and how we made each other feel? Heat swept into my cheeks. I wanted that. I ached for that. So desperately. My core still throbbed with need. But the mood had definitely been ruined.

  A painful awkwardness filled the silence.

  I stared down at the phone, unable to think of a single thing to say.

  Logan cleared his throat. Then he raked a hand through his shaggy blond hair. His soft, beautiful hair…

  It hit me then that I was falling for him. So, so hard. The moment I’d seen him, I’d been enraptured. Snared by his male beauty. His perfection. And the more I was around him, the more attractive he became. Logan had so much goodness inside him. So much tenderness and caring. Grace had called him a sweetheart. He was so much more than that.