Cupid, Texas [1] Love at First Sight

by Lori Wilde

  “Woman,” he growled, “Do you have any idea how badly I want you?”

  “Show me,” she whispered. “Just show me.”

  He needed no more invitation than that. He eased into her snug little warmth.

  “Oh, Dade.” She clung to him, curled her head in the hollow of his neck, and murmured his name.

  What a feeling! He was part of her and she was part of him. Never in his life had Dade felt so accepted and so complete.

  And to think that he had been resisting this moment since the first day he’d laid eyes on her. Why? What had he been so afraid of?

  She etched circles over the outside of his arm. Her touch drove a hard shiver down this back.

  Natalie! He was inside her at last.

  He felt as nervous and happy as a bridegroom and just as surely bonded to her as if there had been a ceremony. Once upon a time such a thought would have scared the hell out of him, but now? Sad. He felt damn sad that she wasn’t already his bride.

  How had he gotten here so quickly? A loner who’d sworn never to let anything or anyone tie him down?

  “Are you all right?” She reached up to trace a finger over his cheek.

  “Never been better.”

  She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, lightly rolled it into her mouth.

  A million sensations erupted in his body, heat and cold, dull and sharp, acute ache and sweet satisfaction.

  Natalie didn’t stay still. She was going at him the same way he went at her—frantic, feverish, determined. She kissed him and nibbled and bucked her hips, wriggled closer to him, trying to get him deeper inside her.

  He dove into her, sliding headlong into a deep, warm pool of pleasure. Dove in and swam around in her feminine pool. And when he came up for air, broke through the surface, he emerged a new man.

  Reborn.

  Spellbound in the blue of her eyes, where perfect order ruled, Dade forgot everything outside of her. In this sweet, timeless moment, nothing else mattered. Her body was a hallowed playground, a place to both worship and play, a sacred temple tucked away from the ordinary world. Here, they could make their own rules. Have things the way they wanted them to be. Here, he lost all his skepticism. Here, his suspicions disappeared. Here, all doubt vanished and he was a true believer.

  She embodied everything he’d ever wanted but never dared dream of—home. She was an asylum, sacrosanct territory, a place where rituals were revered and cultivated. He wanted to create traditions with her.

  She laughed, a low, warm chuckle that set his head and heart reeling. He could listen to that sweet laugh for the rest of his life. He’d never felt this way about anyone before.

  Normally, he kept his romantic relationships light, unfettered. It had served him well. He’d never really felt a need to take things deeper. Knew that doing so meant opening himself up. Trusting. Allowing someone in. No woman had ever been worth the effort before. But for this one? For this one, he’d walk barefoot through the Chihuahuan Desert if need be. For this one, he’d scale the Davis Mountains on his hands and knees. For this one, he would lie down and die.

  Shit, Vega, you are in serious trouble here.

  He’d heard people talk about feelings like this, thought they were full of bullshit. Now, he was the one who was full of it.

  He loved the way she responded to him, so sensitive, so eager, so ready for more. She roused him in a hundred different ways, each unique and new.

  Her muscles tightened around him and they were rocketing together, pushing and sweaty and charged up.

  “Harder,” she begged, “faster. Please.”

  He could deny her nothing. He quickened their pace, her legs squeezing his neck, those fucking awesome shoes digging into his skin. A minute later, he made a final, hard push and they came together, their climax slamming into them both. It ripped a groan from his throat and a tight little gasp from her.

  Finally, he collapsed against her, chest heaving, breath chuffing. He wrapped his arm around her waist, rolled over onto his side to keep his weight off her. He spooned her against him and lay there feeling the wild beating of their hearts, hammering in a perfectly synced tempo.

  Chapter 17

  There’s no force on earth more powerful than love.

  —MILLIE GREENWOOD

  As a meadowlark welcomed the impending dawn outside the bedroom window, Dade lay on his side, pillow tucked underneath his head, listening to Natalie’s soft breathing. Her spine was curled against his stomach, her butt at the level of his pelvis. They were both naked. The covers had fallen off the bed sometime during the night, and in the throes of searing hot passion, neither one of them had bothered to draw the sheets up.

  After their last lovemaking, he’d gotten up, sneaked down to the kitchen, rummaged through the refrigerator, found some of Pearl’s leftovers, and brought them back to bed. He’d gently awakened Natalie and fed her from his bounty—cold fried chicken, potato salad, and strawberry shortcake. They’d kissed, cuddled, and before he even intended it, they were making love again, slower this time, their bellies sated, but their bodies ravenous for each other again.

  He tracked his fingers along her rib cage, to the dip of her waist and up the sexy slope of her hipbone. He should have been worn out from all the lovemaking, but damn if he wasn’t ready to go again. How was that possible when he could barely hold his eyelids open? Magically, Natalie imbued him with superhuman sexual prowess.

  Being with her exceeded all his expectations. Remembering this lovemaking, his breath quickened and his dick stiffened. He touched himself, swallowed back a groan. God, he was insatiable. Disgusted with himself, he closed his eyes, tried to fight off the gathering storm.

  “Dade,” Natalie whispered, awe in her voice, and rolled over onto her back.

  He looked down at her, felt his face turn hot.

  She smiled up at him. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I seriously doubt it,” he croaked.

  She turned into him, sank her teeth into his biceps, and her hand—her wicked, sly little hand—went to his shaft.

  His dick was so hard he could barely breathe. She turned him to stone. His heart was Thor’s hammer in his chest—pounding, pounding, pounding.

  “Much as I’d love to, we’re out of condoms, darlin’,” he murmured.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “You wore me out pretty good. I’m stiff all over.”

  “Me too.”

  “My feet are sore.”

  “You still have those shoes on,” he pointed out.

  “Hey, what can I say? I never thought of wearing them to bed before. Thanks for the enlightenment.”

  “I should be thanking you.”

  “What for?”

  “The precious gift you gave me.”

  “Oh that.” She burrowed into the crook of his arm. “You’ve opened my eyes to so many things.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  She traced her finger over his arm. “You know what?”

  “What,” he murmured and tracked a lazy hand over her arm.

  “We never did get around to talking about your scars.”

  “Which ones?” he asked.

  “All of them.”

  “We don’t have enough time for all of them. It’ll soon be dawn.”

  “What happened here?” She touched a finger to the nick just under his right ear.

  “My dad threw a beer bottle at me. It crashed on the wall over my head and a shard of glass embedded there.”

  Natalie hissed in her breath through clenched teeth. “Why did he do that?”

  Dade shrugged. “Who knows? He was a crack addict. Anything could set him off.”

  Natalie shuddered. “I can’t begin to imagine what that must have been like.”

  “I’m glad you can’t,” he said, and kissed the tip of her nose. “You don’t need to know how dark the world can be.”

  “Whatever happened to your father?”

  “Don’t k
now. Don’t care. Most likely he’s dead or in prison. I haven’t seen him since I was eighteen.”

  “And your mom?”

  “She died of a drug overdose when I was four.”

  “You don’t have any family? No grandparents? No aunts or uncles or cousins?” She said it like it was an unfathomable concept.

  “Red,” he said staunchly. “Red’s my family.”

  That silenced her.

  “We’re going to find him.” She toyed with the hairs on his forearm. “I promise you.”

  “Yeah, but will he be alive?”

  They stared at each other and a long silence stretched between them.

  “Red is a survivor,” she whispered.

  “Everyone has their limits. Even Red.”

  “What about this one?” Natalie asked, slipping her hand under his back, fingering the long scar that ran the length of his right shoulder blade.

  “Long story.”

  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

  “It’s grim. I don’t want to mar a perfect night.”

  Lightly, she touched his shoulder. “I’d like to hear it if you’re in a mood to tell it. If you trust me.”

  Dade swallowed and gently tousled her hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but it’s part of my past I’m trying hard to forget.”

  “Maybe talking about it will help you put it away for good. Have you ever tried that?”

  If only it were that easy. She had no idea what he’d seen. The things he’d been forced to do in order to survive. And yeah, he’d talked. To shrinks. More than he wanted to.

  “I won’t judge you,” she said.

  “You say that now . . .”

  “Did you get the scar during the war?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t want to relive it. Not with her. Not now anyway. She was pristine. Special. He didn’t want to tarnish her with his dirty knowledge.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Let me in. Let me share your burden.”

  “You can’t,” he said abruptly, and turned away from her.

  She sat up, reached for him.

  He rolled away from her, dropped his feet to the floor. “Look, Natalie, we had a great time. I don’t want to spoil it by talking about things that can’t be changed.”

  “Whatever it is, it has been eating at you for a long time.”

  True enough, but blabbing about it wasn’t going to change a damn thing.

  “The reason for the scars is part of why you never stay in one place, isn’t it?”

  “How do you know that about me?”

  “Red. He used to talk about his navy buddy who couldn’t put down roots. He said that you had a hole inside you that you couldn’t seem to fill. Said you stayed on the move to keep from feeling things.”

  “Oh he did, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know he was talking about me? You said he never mentioned my name. Maybe he was talking about someone else.”

  “Because when he spoke about you, there was both admiration and concern in his voice. The same admiration and concern that’s in your voice when you talk about him.”

  Dade reached down and picked his shirt up off the floor. Wrestled it on. Part of him was desperate to flee Natalie and her questions. Flee the dawn. Flee her safe little world and go back to what was familiar, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stand up.

  If he stayed, he was going to have to tell her, and if he told her, then she would know his darkest secret. Would she reject him? Turn him away? Shudder with revulsion?

  “You can trust me. I accept you unconditionally. I won’t betray you,” she murmured, saying the magic words he longed to hear but was terrified to believe in.

  “I’ve heard those empty words before.”

  “From who? A woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your mother.”

  “Well, her dying of a drug overdose was a major betrayal to a four-year-old kid, but she’s not who I’m talking about.”

  “Have you . . .” She paused. “Been married before?”

  “No. I’ve never let anyone get close enough.” Until you. “But it’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “What is it?”

  Dade sighed. Dropped his head in his hands. He was buck-naked except for his T-shirt. The door was right there. All he had to do was put on his jeans and his cowboy boots and walk away. He turned his head, saw Natalie curled up with her knees to her chest, looking wide-eyed and freaked out. He realized then that she might be imagining even worse things than what had really happened.

  “I get it if you don’t want to tell me,” she said. “If it’s too intimate. When you get right down to it, we hardly know each other.”

  “Darlin’,” he said, “we know each other as intimately as a man and woman can.”

  “Physically, maybe,” she said, “but emotionally? As long as we have secrets between us, we can never really be intimate.”

  That brought him up short. “Do you have secrets?”

  “Just one.”

  “Ladies first.” He waved an arm. “Be my guest. What’s your secret?”

  “I’m worried it might scare you off.”

  “All the better. If your secret scares me off, I won’t have to tell you my secret.” He was teasing. Sort of. He got up and put on his jeans.

  “Which is precisely why you’re going to tell me your secret first.”

  He looked into her eyes. Sat back down on the bed. “How do I know my secrets won’t scare you off?”

  Natalie laid her hand over her heart. “I give you my word.”

  “How do I know you’re a woman of your word?” He grinned, but inside him turbulence swirled.

  “On that you’ll just have to trust me.”

  Trust. That word again. The thing he seemed unable to do.

  “Your instincts led you to tell me about your relationship to Red. If nothing else, you can trust your own instincts, can’t you?”

  God, how much he wanted to trust her. Wanting someone was a basic human need, but he’d been burned so many times. Did he dare try again?

  She reached up to stroke his hair, but didn’t say another word. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I understand.”

  Dade blew out his breath. “In country,” he finally said. “Afghanistan. Helmand.”

  She looked blank.

  Her innocence was a sweet balm and it was what gave him the courage to go on. “Helmand is a Taliban stronghold.”

  “Oh.”

  “Four years ago, my SEAL team was on a mission to root out the Taliban members involved in an attack on a U.S. embassy in India. In a tiny village, I came across a young woman, a girl really, who’d been badly beaten. She was with child.”

  Natalie pressed a hand to her mouth, but did not interrupt his story. Good thing. If he stopped, he might not be able to pick up the story again.

  “I wasn’t supposed to help her. It wasn’t against direct orders or anything, but we weren’t supposed to interfere in the daily lives of Afghans. She was so pitiful, so desperate. She’d been left to die by her people.” He clenched his jaw. “I thought it was barbaric, but who the hell was I to judge considering what kind of family I came from?”

  “You’re a good person, Dade, no matter what kind of upbringing you had. You overcame it.”

  “Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Some might disagree with you. You’re from Cupid, the town of eternal love. You see the world through rose-colored glasses.”

  She tapped her leg. “We all have our own version of pain, no matter where we’re from. We all suffer. It’s part of the human condition.”

  “So why bother?”

  “Because of love,” she said softly. “Love is worth all of the suffering.”

  He hauled in a deep breath. How he wanted to believe that.

  Her innocent smile was so full of love. “It is.”

  Outside the window, meadowlarks sang.

  “Go on,
” Natalie urged.

  Dade shoved a hand through his hair. “I helped her. Hid her out in an abandoned building. Brought her food.” He winced at the memory of his utter stupidity.

  “What happened then?”

  “One night they ambushed me.”

  “They?”

  “The Taliban. The pregnant young lady I helped had returned to her people and told them about me.”

  “She betrayed your kindness.”

  “In the most fundamental way. Great news for them. Kidnap a Navy SEAL out alone. Execute him on camera. They’d be heroes.”

  Natalie gasped. “Dade!”

  “Yeah.”

  Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Dade closed his eyes against the dark memories. This was even harder than he’d thought it would be.

  “And the scar?” She reached out to finger the scar through the material of his shirt.

  He shrugged. “I fought back, but there were seven of them and only one of me. They took me to a secret location. Tortured me for a couple of days. That’s this scar . . .” He pointed to burn marks on his left forearm. “And the scar on my right knee and the two on my lower back.”

  “My God.” She looked horrified, splayed a hand to her chest.

  “They were trying to force me to read a statement on camera renouncing the U.S. I wouldn’t. They were going to kill me anyway. I wasn’t going to give in to them.” He was talking faster now, the words flying out of his mouth. He wanted the story over with. “So they put a black sack over my head and put my head on a chopping block and I knew it was all over.”

  “I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been!”

  “Strangely enough, I was very calm. I don’t know whether it was my SEAL training, or if I’d detached my mind from my body, or whether I no longer gave a damn if I lived or died. I was just waiting for it to be over.”

  “I can’t begin to imagine what that must have been like.”

  “I’m glad for that. You should never ever know anything like that. No one should.”

  Dade paused, moistened his lips. “Then I heard machine-gun fire—bap, bap, bap, bap. My hands were tied behind my back and my legs were bound so I couldn’t run.”