“Jesus.” She shuts her eyes tightly as her hips start to sway a little. She bursts out with nervous laughter, and I know in this moment I will never love another human being the way I love her.
“Dance for me,” I beckon as she opens her eyes, her smile dying as she reads my plea.
“Lord, you could talk a nun into joining a sex club. You’re too damn pretty for your own good.”
That earns her a chuckle.
“Fine, but this is for you, Mullins,” she declares before she shimmies a little. Sitting back on my bike, my grin grows wide when she begins to dip her hips, swaying from side to side, pivoting on the quick heel she taps behind her before switching to the other side. Boot clad, she twists in front of me, back and forth, all arms and hips, stumbling a little on her count before she throws everything into it and blows. My. Fucking. Mind.
Tossing her shoulders back, she finally meets my watchful gaze as she moves toward me in a confident strut that has my dick at attention in seconds. Her subtle smile is still there, but it’s in her eyes that I see the shift from rolling waves to tide, and I get swept away. In them, for the first time since I kissed her in that hotel room months ago, is what I’ve been searching for—permission.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Katy
I feel it, damn do I ever feel it as I sway my hips to the sexy beat and move my feet double-time. I settle somewhere between Cumbia and comfortable and let my body do the rest, as I dance like I haven’t in years. I’m well aware he’s watching, but I can’t bring myself to be embarrassed with as freeing as it feels. Dancing has always been my thing, and I used to jump at the opportunity. Never in a million years did I imagine I would find the same joy in it, or that the draw of it would make me feel this sexy. I’m on fire for this feeling, the feeling, the need, the all-consuming desire that fills me when he’s near, and the freedom that comes with letting myself love him. Placing my hands on my hips, I sink down a little, left to right before my eyes snap to his.
He’s no longer smiling.
Unable to look away, I ignore any voice, any rampant thought, any red light, as he steps off his bike, his hands idle at his sides.
Flaming amber traces every line of my body, and all noise falls silent when the song ends. I halt my movement, standing mere feet away from him before I give in completely.
“I’m in love with you,” I declare. “Damn me to hell for it, but I’m in love with you, Christopher Briggs, and I’m tired of not being able to say it.” He flinches visibly as if he wasn’t expecting to hear it, while I stand there uncovered between us.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I pull at my hair, giving him a helpless look. “Jesus, forgive me. Please forgive me.”
In two steps he’s in front of me, his fingers releasing mine as he grips my hair with his fist, holding my mouth an inch from his. Back pressed to the counter, he searches my eyes as his convey every imaginable emotion. “Say it again.” It’s a demand—one that I oblige with every beat of my selfish heart. “I’m in love with you. I love you.” The pain in his expression morphs into fiery satisfaction as he leans in erasing the distance between us.
“Bri—”
He crushes our mouths together. There is nothing gentle about his kiss. This is passion, doused in kerosene and set on fire. It’s a declaration of war, and I’m nowhere near ready for the feel of it, but I take it all as he hungrily sweeps my mouth with his tongue. Blinded by my addiction, I sink into him. There is only Briggs and me and this fire that rages between us, on the verge of suffocating us both.
Warmth spreads between my thighs, and I try to grapple with the weight of his kiss, sliding my hands over his shoulders and down his muscular back. In seconds I’m up on that workbench, my legs hooked around his waist as he furiously kisses me, and I match him lick for delicious lick. Never in my life have I been kissed this way, and I can’t stop taking as I rip at his arms, his chest, my fingers settling behind his neck as I pull him closer. It’s not enough. His warm hands are everywhere, his fingers exploring, kneading, until he works the knot on my shirt, tugging it free. Our lips only separate when he peels it off of me in one swift move. I’m exposed in a way I haven’t been in forever, and all I want is for him to see me. For the first time in months, I don’t want to hide.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he rips at the clasp of my bra, before his lips descend again. I’m bare, my breaths coming rapidly. My chest rises as he cups a breast, pulling it into his mouth, sucking so hard I feel the pulse between my legs.
He’s ravenous, and I watch him feed off me as if I’m the breath of life. His black lashes flutter as he nips at my nipple before taking half of my offered breast into his mouth and covering it with the whole of his tongue. Whimpering at the feel, I grind myself into the vee of his hips, into his erection. He jerks at the contact, and I reach between us, gripping the bulge in my hand. He lets out a slow breath, lifting his eyes to meet mine. Undoing his button, I slowly pull down his zipper while he hisses through his teeth, planting his hands on the table on each side of me. He’s staring right at me as I answer his unspoken question.
“You, I want you,” I whisper, as I dip in and hold his thick length in my hand. My mouth waters as I pump his cock between us, using my free hand to caress the bare skin of his rock-hard ass.
His legs give a little at my touch, and his eyes drift shut as I nip at his lips, his chin, his neck, and the trail from his pulse point back to his lips, where his tongue waits for mine. Eager fingers trail from my calf to the top of my thighs in a caress before they push under the hem of my shorts. It only takes a second for him to find me soaked, and a string of curses fall from his lips. Heart pounding wildly, I cling to him as he presses his fingers inside me, agonizingly slow. Pulling away from my needy arms, he carefully watches my reaction to his touch.
“Who’s touching you?” His voice is pained, and I know he’s remembering a time I want so desperately to forget.
“You,” I answer without hesitation.
“Who’s inside you?”
“You, Chris,” I whimper.
My chest is heaving so hard; I can’t stop it, and I don’t want to. I feel like I’m going to combust by the look in his eyes alone. I’m being licked by flames as his thick digits glide in and out of me slowly, driving me out of my mind. He’s raw with his desire—primitive—and he’s watching my every reaction as he learns my responses. In seconds I begin to tighten around his fingers.
“Please,” I say in a breath that touches his lips. And in the next, I’m in his arms while he grabs a large blanket on the shelf behind us. Wrapped around him, I kiss every inch of available skin as he carries me just past the barn and out to the pasture. Moonlight beams off his dark skin as I let my lips roam his shoulders, his bicep, before sucking the side of his neck.
I’m in a daze when he sets me to my feet, out of my mind with lust and desperate to feel him. When my back finally meets the blanket, the ground is soft, the night air crisp, and still we burn. Dark eyes fix on mine as he pulls the shirt off his back with his fist before lowering to kiss my lips. It lasts a blissful eternity as I explore his chest, straining to push his jeans over his hips. Satisfied with my progress, I dig my nails into the toned flesh of his ass as he thrusts his tongue in deep, so deep I’m drowning. Sparks fire off as he pulls back, tugging my shorts off. His eyes trail my body as he removes my boots one by one, pressing tongue-filled kisses on each of my calves before setting my feet on the blanket. In one swift move, he turns to sit, working on his own boots as I lift to kiss his bare back, running my fingers through his soft hair. In seconds he’s free of his jeans and between my thighs, rubbing his length against my slippery center before taking my lips in another kiss. And it’s there, on that blanket under a glittering moon, that we collide. We search and seek with words, needy hands, and tongues. When he pulls away, sinking lower, he sets on a path of devotion, covering every inch of my body. It’s healing and fulfilling, and no part of me is hiding from the scars I
bear. I admire him beneath that blue light as he takes his time worshiping me.
“I’ve imagined this so many times,” he whispers softly, “so many times.” The ache in his voice stings as I gently clutch his head in my hands before he spreads my legs, sinking between them. My body shoots off the blanket with the first swipe of his tongue. I’m so close I can feel the coil. With another stroke, I’m calling his name as my thighs tighten around his face. He pushes them as wide as they will go, plunging his tongue in deep. In seconds I’m grinding on his face, stars gathering and colliding behind my eyes while I explode with them, coming harder than I have in my life. He drinks it in, his eyes on my reaction as he revives me on that blanket. And I feel reborn.
Rising to kneel, he cups the back of my knees, spreading me as he nudges my entrance.
“Look at me,” he commands, “and don’t you dare look away while I’m inside you.”
He pushes in slow, inch by delicious inch, until he’s buried deep.
Oh. My. God.
I can’t breathe as I battle with the full feel of him. It’s the most painful and delicious ache I’ve ever felt. When he pulls out and drives back in, I explode.
“Jesus, Katy,” he groans, eyes boring into mine. We’re there, in our place, the one we created. He drives his desire in again, his hips picking up as I continue to cry out his name.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs as he hits the back of me, drawing a gasp.
Hovering over me, he spreads me impossibly wider, rolling his hips, watching us connect. In shock and awe, I study as he thrusts in harder, further, drawing the reaction he wants before capturing my lips. His skin is on fire as I clutch him to me, begging him not to stop. He pulls me back to him while he sits, so I’m straddling his lap, our bodies slick as I pump up and down slowly, riding the wave. Overwhelmed by the feel, my mouth falls open as I gaze at his face. He’s looking at me with the same expression, his lips parted as he begins to move with me, and we both race to our end.
Together, we breathe the ultimate sigh of relief, and as our climax ripples between us, our eyes never part. Ocean blue meets amber sunset.
And it’s beautiful.
It’s healing.
It’s life-altering.
It’s inevitable.
We kiss and clutch for endless minutes before falling back on the blanket, exhausted, hands clasped, speechless, catching our breaths as we stare up at the moon.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Briggs
Naked, wrapped in the blanket, I press my foot against the cool porch, rocking us together as I cradle her in my arms. Her cheek lies against my chest as she whispers the rhythm of my heart back to me. I’ve never felt so much as I massage her with my palms. I can’t touch her enough, can’t bring her close enough. The last hour of my life has been a fucking dream. I’m unraveling with so much love, and I don’t know where to shed it, so I pour it on her, hoping she feels it where she needs it most.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I soak it in. I can’t imagine anyone passing through life without feeling something so powerful. It hurts and heals all at once.
“You going to say something? I keep waiting for the smart ass to emerge.” She looks up at me, letting the blanket slip off her shoulders, so it pools around her waist. “Chris?”
Words fail me as I look over at her, rapt. She can see it; I know she can. She knows me better than anyone else on earth. It’s a closeness I’ve never felt before, with any woman, and it’s soul deep. Thinking back through our time together, I know exactly what this is.
“Affirmation,” I say softly. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
She nods in understanding as she gently kisses my lips and rests her head on my shoulder.
“Don’t you dare go to sleep,” I order.
Her soft laugh comes out in a puff on my chest.
“Got plans for me?”
“I’m working on tactics at the moment,” I say with a smile.
It’s three o’clock in the morning, and we lay tangled on my mattress. I’ve had her countless times since she danced for me in the barn. Katy’s insatiable, and I’m using every part of that sexual depravity to my advantage. At the moment she rests, content in my arms, tracing the scars on my stomach.
“They burned you.” She looks up at me through dark blonde lashes. “That’s why you were screaming?”
“Talk about a way to kill a boner.”
“Sorry,” she says, pulling her hand away. Gripping her retreating fingers, I put them back where they were and kiss her temple. “No, I’m sorry. Yes, their unimaginative asses burned me.”
She crosses her hands on my chest and plants her chin on them. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good. I deal with things as they come, always have, and it’s worked for me so far.”
She gnaws her lip briefly. “That makes me feel weak.”
“It’s not meant to,” I whisper.
“I know. And you know what? I’m so happy you can get past these things the way you do.”
“Can’t get past you.”
“Me neither.”
“And now it’s gone.” I sigh.
“Hey,” she says, matter-of-fact. “I can bring it back in seconds, bet on it.”
“Think so?” I challenge, but she grips me in her hand, and there’s fire in the hole. I give her a well-deserved nod. “Well, all right then.”
It’s so strange that just last night she was staring at me from beside this same bed in a completely different way. The space between us has vanished entirely, and this setting seems far more natural.
I swallow. “Are you okay? What’re you thinking?”
Blue eyes drift over me. “Gavin was the only one, before…” she says softly, “and you’re my only after.”
“What?” I move to sit, and she plants a hand on my chest to hold me down. “You mean you haven’t—”
“Do you want me discussing you with him?”
My reply is instant. “Fuck no.”
“Okay, then we have an understanding.”
My whole body tenses. “This is so fucked up, Katy.”
“Not yet,” she begs. “Not yet, please don’t…not yet.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I flip through her confessions. I’m her only lover. Things aren’t going well for Captain Walsh, and it brings me a sick satisfaction that makes me hate myself a little more. Scottie was never mine to take, but I’d taken her anyway because I didn’t know how to stop myself.
Scottie isn’t mine.
Alarm filters through me as I grip her tightly in my arms in a protective hold.
She’s here, in my house, sleeping with me.
“He left me.” She speaks up, reading my thoughts, my heartbeat. “A month ago. I didn’t come running into your bed the minute it happened. I was fighting to reconcile with him before I found out your ass was being deployed. I left a hundred dollars’ worth of groceries sitting at a checkout and came here, guns blazing. Now you’re all caught up, and that’s all you’re getting.”
“He left after the show?” I ask, rubbing circles on her back. She doesn’t answer. Instead, she kisses my chest with reverence over and over, trailing up and down my body, soothing my fears, the ache, before she washes me away with her request.
“Come back to me.” Her eyes plead with mine, begging for time we’re running out of. I still can’t hear the eerie swing of the pendulum that normally haunts me, so I dive. I propel myself off the cliff, plunging deep into us, to the place that feels complete, untouched by the rest of the world. Submerged in those silent waters, I get the peace I need.
I make love to her all night, hard and fast, slow and sensual. When light cracks in the corner of my bedroom, she falls into a sleep deep enough to keep her there.
It’s only when she’s lax in my arms, her breathing deep, that the swing comes back, and it’s all I can hear.
Chapter Sixty
Katy
I wake up alone in his bed, inhaling
the scent of him as impending dread courses through me.
I don’t want to leave.
That thought has me scrambling for any excuse I can find to stay; but the truth is, I never should have come to him in the first place. I’ll take all the blame; every bit of this is on me.
This day is not going to be good.
Chris’s absence is terrifying. I can feel the panic seeping into me with every minute of silence in the deserted ranch home. It’s sparsely furnished and in need of a lot of elbow grease, but it’s home for him, and he’s happy here.
I am happy here.
Finding them in a pile at the edge of the bed, I dress in the same ragged clothes I’ve been recycling for three days and wash my face in his sink in the adjoining bathroom. After running a fingerful of toothpaste in my mouth, I borrow his deodorant, again. His smell is so clean, it’s hard to place, but I know I won’t ever forget it.
I have no idea what my life is about to turn into, but if I had to guess, it feels a whole lot like I’m headed back to war.
Pulling my cell from my purse to check for any message from my mother, I see that the battery is dead. Panic rising, I use the house phone to place a call and am relieved when she answers within a few rings. Knowing my little man is on his way home curbs some of my apprehension.
Swallowing hard, I push all thoughts away of what I will face at home because right now, I miss the man whose house feels like a tomb without him. Briefly, I wonder if his Gran feels as lonely with him constantly gone, with only her memories to cling to. Then I picture myself in her shoes because I’m almost certain it’s my fate.
After throwing my purse in my Jeep, I find Chris in the barn, wrists taped, hanging his bag by the chain on a waiting hook. The faraway look in his eyes gives me pause.
“Morning,” I say, “or afternoon.”
He pauses, glancing my way before throwing his first punch.
“Morning.”
“Noah’s coming home today,” I offer nervously, worrying my fingers. “He’s been at Disney for a week.”
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