Midnight Storm (The Warriors)

by Laura Taylor

  Dev swore suddenly, the word ugly enough to make Jessica flinch and edge away from him. Guilt flooded her, because she felt just as responsible for his anger as for the pain she’d caused him.

  Shocked when he seized her by the waist, jerked her up and into his lap, and closed his arms around her, Jessica didn’t fight him. Pressed against his naked chest, she immediately felt his intense body heat and the hard ridge of his sex trapped beneath her hips.

  Without intending to, she settled more deeply into his embrace and inhaled his musky scent. Without intending to she closed her eyes, worked her hands between their bodies, and burrowed her fingers through the dense dark hair that covered his chest. And without intending to, she moaned softly and absorbed the tremor that rippled through his powerful body.

  Hunger simmered in her blood, transforming it into hot currents of desire. Her limbs grew heavy. Need so intense that she trembled with it made her heart race and her breathing come in pants.

  Although she knew better, she gave in to the yearning she’d spent years denying and her never–ending craving for his love.

  Despite the warmth of his skin, his galloping heart, and the harsh rasping sound of his respiration, Dev held very still. Jessica leaned back and slid her fingers up to his strong neck and across his wide shoulders. Finally opening her eyes, she saw the true extent of his restraint in his hard facial expression and the rigidity of his upper body.

  "What’s the matter?"

  Grasping her hands, he drew them away from his body. "God knows I want what I think you’re offering, Jessica, but we’ve got to talk first."

  She closed her hands into fists. "About what?"

  "We need to go back to the beginning. I want you to start with what happened to you during the first Gulf War when your dad went missing over the Persian Gulf. I know that was twenty plus years ago, but it’s the part of your life you were never willing to discuss with me. I’ve always suspected that those years were crucial to what eventually happened between us and to us."

  She shook her head. "No, you’re… wrong."

  He tightened his grip on her wrists. "I’m right, and we both know it."

  She paled, trying to scramble out of his lap. He held her in place, hard hands fixed at her waist like anchors.

  Jessica stopped struggling. "It doesn’t matter now, Dev."

  "We both know it does matter. Denying the reality won’t change the truth."

  "You’re asking too much of me. Isn’t it enough that it was a really painful time in my life that I barely managed to survive?"

  "What happened to your dad changed your whole life and, in the end, I think it destroyed our chance for happiness." He gathered her even closer, but he made certain he could still see her face while he stroked her back. "Talk to me, please. Tell me what you didn’t tell me before."

  Even though his touch should have calmed her, perhaps even aroused her, she unexpectedly burst out, "I was alone! I was an eleven year old girl when the chaplain and the Wing Commander came to our house to tell us that Dad was missing. My childhood ended that day. Mom fell apart and had to be hospitalized. There were no relatives to call, so I was placed with a series of neighbors in base housing for the six months she spent in the hospital. At least, I wasn’t turned over to Foster Care. That would have been awful. You can’t even begin to imagine how terrified I was in those days."

  A dam of repressed anxiety broke loose deep inside, and the words began to gush out of her. All the while, Dev held her and listened.

  "When Monica was released from the hospital and we moved into an apartment near the base, living with her was like watching crystal shatter in slow motion. I tiptoed through each day. I didn’t have a normal life. I was too busy being my mother’s caretaker. I was even afraid to leave her alone when I went to school. I never knew what I’d find when I got home at the end of the day."

  "You actually thought she’d try to harm herself?" asked Dev, his shock and disbelief obvious.

  Jessica suddenly realized how adeptly she’d concealed the truth of Monica Cleary’s past emotional instability. "I excelled at hiding the truth from everyone, even your parents. And, yes, Monica did try to kill herself. So many times, I finally lost track. I was always finding sleeping pills, but the doctors thought they were helping her when they gave them to her. They refused to listen when I asked them not to prescribe them, or when I told them that she slept twenty hours out of every twenty–four. We won’t even talk about the empty booze bottles I used to hide in other people’s trashcans, because I didn’t want anyone to know what she was doing to herself. By the time I was a senior in high school, all I could think about was escaping a home that had turned into a prison."

  "Jessica, why didn’t you tell me any of this? Didn’t you think I’d understand?"

  "I couldn’t talk about it. The wounds were too fresh and the disappointments too numerous. I just wanted to forget everything while I was in college, even though I knew I’d eventually have to go home. I especially didn’t want to face facts when we were together, Dev. The fantasy was too perfect. If your mom hadn’t persuaded Monica to move to San Antonio to be near your parents while I was away at college, I wouldn’t even have had you for those few years." Jessica paused to regain her composure. "I didn’t marry their son, but I still owe your parents for buying me the time I needed to complete my college degree. I feel badly that I’ve never really thanked them properly." She covered her face with her hands and pressed her fingertips against the dull throbbing in her temples.

  "My parents think the world of you, despite the fact that you’ve avoided them since we broke up."

  "I couldn’t face them, not after the mess I’d made of things. I don’t even stick around when they visit the inn."

  She lowered her hands and studied his features. She reached out to stroke the side of his face with shaking fingers, the stubble of his beard abrading her skin and sending sparks skittering across her nerve endings.

  "I was so happy when we were together, Dev. In my heart, though, I knew we didn’t have a prayer for a long relationship, let alone a marriage, but I was greedy. And I wanted you and needed you so much then. You were everything to me, but I knew I couldn’t have you. When you insisted on becoming engaged, I was still afraid to admit the truth."

  "I wish you’d trusted me. I could’ve helped you."

  "I never told anyone, Dev. Your parents were strong and normal, and our experiences were totally different. At the time, I honestly didn’t think you’d understand."

  He frowned, clearly still troubled by the secret she’d kept during their relationship. "Why, Jessica? Why handle it alone?"

  "My dad always said he counted on me to take care of Monica whenever he went on a mission. I was just a kid, but I took him seriously. I took everything seriously in those days." She laughed, but the sound was rife with the loneliness she’d experienced as a child. "I was quite the little mother. People constantly remarked on it and praised me for holding my family together all by myself. In retrospect, I think there was a part of me that even liked that sort of attention."

  "Christ, how did you manage it even with the periodic ego strokes?"

  She shrugged. "Who knows? But I did manage it, even though I should have been allowed to grown up normally and the positive reinforcement I received should have been for good grades, excelling at sports, and passing my driver’s license test. Instead, I was taking bows because I could balance a checkbook, pay the bills, do housework, meal plan, shop for groceries, arrange for the car to be serviced, and supervise Mom so that she wouldn’t harm herself. The truth, though, is that I felt like I was the only guard in an insane asylum."

  He cupped her shoulders with his hands and began to knead the knots of tension beneath his fingers. "Aren’t you still doing it?"

  She shook her head. "Not really. The passage of time and our return to northern Arkansas helped to stabilize Monica. We’re partners now, and she carries her load. We don’t have a traditional mother–da
ughter relationship. We never will, but we’ve managed to become friends in recent years. That’s a lot considering what we’ve been through."

  "You idolized your dad, didn’t you?"

  "Totally." She laughed. It was the first genuinely happy sound to emerge from her since their conversation had begun. "He always seemed to have time to listen to me and to offer me encouragement. And he always made me feel special. He was a good man and a terrific father. I still miss him."

  Dev ran his hands up and down Jessica’s back. He could feel the tension slowly easing out of her, just as he could feel the warmth and suppleness of her body.

  A shiver rippled through her. "I didn’t handle our situation too well. I probably should have told you the truth ten years ago."

  "I was too damned involved with my flying to pay much attention to your emotional needs. I still regret that."

  She shook her head. "You couldn’t have done anything. I was faced with a decision I couldn’t ignore any longer. Was I going to marry you and pretend that I could live happily ever after, or was I going to go home and take care of Monica, who was still in pretty bad shape in those days? Regardless of how much I wanted a life with you, Dev, I had no intention of saddling you with Monica as a permanent live–in guest. In the end, I called off our wedding, collected my college diploma, and left."

  The anger he’d believed he’d come to terms with flared to life inside him. "I think marrying a pilot was part of your problem. We could’ve worked something out where Monica was concerned."

  It was what she needed him to believe, she realized, so she reinforced his conclusion by saying, "You’re right. I wasn’t willing to take the risk. You’re a warrior, Devlin Mackenzie, and warriors go to war."

  "Just like your dad?"

  "Just like my dad," she conceded quietly. "I know I failed you when I walked out on you, but I had to make a difficult decision—the only decision I could make given the circumstances. Think of it as destiny. We couldn’t change it, so we’ve both adapted. You in your way, and me in mine."

  "I can still have regrets, can’t I?"

  She smoothed the frown lines from his forehead with her fingertips. "I’m flattered that you still think of me and care about me, but I’d prefer to see you happy."

  "You could make me happy, Jessie."

  Capturing her hand, he brought her fingertips to his lips. He watched her, noting the shock in her widening eyes when he bathed the tip of each finger with his tongue and then, one by one, sucked on each slender digit until she shuddered.

  "Dev, please…"

  He paused to smile at her, a seductive smile that promised a world of pleasure. "Please, what?"

  "Please stop," she whispered. "We can’t be anything more than friends."

  He shook his head, lifted her hand to expose her palm, and pressed a long, hot, open–mouthed kiss into the center of it. When he finished, he smiled once again. "I was always your friend, even when I hated what you’d done to us. And I’ll always be your friend, but I think you want and need more from me, Jessie. I know I want to give you more than friendship."

  "I have responsibilities and obligations that I cannot and will not abandon."

  "No one’s asking you to abandon anything. Tell me where it’s written that you have to play the martyr for the rest of your damn life. Tell me why you have to handle everything alone."

  "I’m not a martyr. I’m just a woman who’s come to terms with her life."

  "Jessica, wake the hell up. You deserve to be happy. I can make you happy."

  "You always did," she said in a heartbreaking little voice.

  "Then let me. Please, Jessie, just let me."

  She melted against him when he drew her forward, captured her lips, and delved into the heated passion he knew awaited him. He didn’t hesitate, and he wasn’t tender. His hunger exploded like a fireball, simultaneously consuming and devastating them both in a single instant. He plundered her mouth with his mobile lips and a deft, darting tongue. He then staked his claim on her body and heart with marauding hands and breathless words of desire.

  His passion, akin to a blast furnace, enveloped her, demanding a response. She answered, without hesitation and without thought. Clutching at his shoulders, Jessica surrendered to the dizzying need that had thrived within her for ten endless years. She squirmed atop his hard sex, instantly needy and ripe for a taste of the consuming passion they’d once shared.

  Even as he unfastened the long row of buttons at the front of her nightgown, she begged, "Touch me, Dev. Please. I need to feel your hands on me."

  Shaking with desire, she sighed when he exposed her breasts to his hungry gaze and devastating touch. Her breasts were already swollen with need, her nipples tightening to hard points the instant he covered them with his hands.

  She groaned into his mouth and grew nearly mindless with pleasure as he tugged and stroked the taut tips. Sensation spiraled within her, weakening her limbs, heating her blood, and moistening the part of her body that already throbbed and hungered for completion.

  A rumbling sound filled her ears. Panic stabbed at her consciousness, but then she realized that she was safe in his arms. Anything else seemed trivial. She savored the possessive feel of his hands as he cupped her breasts. His lips and tongue grew even more voracious as their mouths mated. The utter carnality of the exchange thrilled her. Dev quickly became the essence of her entire existence, the embodiment of all that she desired, the answer to every sleepless night she’d experienced during their years apart.

  Lightning continued to disturb the night, cracking and splitting the sky with flashes of white before a volley of thunderous rumblings sounded overhead and penetrated Jessica’s mood of breathless sensuality.

  Although she separated their lips, she was reluctant to separate their bodies. She rested her forehead against his chin, gasping for breath. When he hugged her close, his heartbeat branded her sensitive breasts even as she listened to the sound of his harsh respiration.

  "This is insane!" she gasped.

  "It’s not insane to need each other." He nuzzled her neck, his lips hot and persuasive. "The weather around here qualifies as insane, though."

  "All we’re doing is driving each other crazy. The inn could collapse around us, and we wouldn’t even notice it."

  He grinned, an oddly endearing and lopsided grin she recognized from years gone by. "Don’t sound so disgusted, because what we’re doing now sure beats tossing and turning in our empty beds. Besides, it was always like this when we made love."

  "There’s more to life than sex, Devlin Mackenzie." She instantly felt stupid for snapping at him. She blamed her loss of control on scorched nerve endings and a depth of hunger for him that made her nearly witless with need.

  The humor in his eyes disappeared. "This isn’t just sex. It’s never been just sex, and it never will be, so don’t try to dismiss what’s happening between us or cheapen it."

  She looked away from him. "You’re right, and I’m sorry."

  He cupped her face with his hands and forced her to meet his gaze. "All I’ve had for ten years are my memories of what it was like for us when we made love, Jessie. And just for the record, we made love every minute of every day we shared by simply being together."

  "Maybe you should go upstairs now." She saw his shock. He looked, she thought, as if she’d just slapped him across the face. "That didn’t come out right."

  "What did you mean to say?" He eyed her warily.

  "It’s difficult to be near each other and not want to be… intimate. Maybe we shouldn’t tempt fate. Maybe we should both try to get some rest, and then we can be clearheaded before anything happens, if we decide that anything’s even going to happen," she finished in a rush.

  "We’re not going to make love?"

  "No, we’re not. It’s too soon, and I’m not sure it’s right." She eased out of his embrace.

  He watched her settle into the folds of her comforter. He remained quiet as he watched her study the dwin
dling fire and listen to the escalating anger of the storm.

  She finally looked at him. "I can’t be casual about us, Dev. And I’ve never been casual about lovemaking."

  "I wasn’t trying to rush you."

  "You didn’t. I think we’re both at emotional lows right now. I don’t want us to use each other and then regret it later."

  Thunder and lightning punctuated the silence that followed. Dev eventually reached out and took Jessica’s hand.

  With their fingers laced together, they sat side by side for nearly an hour before Dev said, "Penny?"

  "Quarter," she answered absently.

  "I’ve got a silver dollar."

  "Sold to the highest…" She glanced at him, but her quick smile faded to an expression of uncertainty. "… bidder."

  "Amazing, isn’t it, when old habits seem to come back without any effort at all?"

  "I haven’t heard that little ditty in ten years."

  "But you remembered it," he pointed out.

  Yes, she realized, I remembered it, just as I’m remembering everything else we once shared.

  Thunder clapped loudly overhead. The house shuddered, and the wind gusting down the chimney set off a flurry of sparks behind the fireplace screen.

  Jessica shivered and sank deeper into the folds of her comforter. She tried to concentrate on the present, because she knew she could do nothing about the past.

  "It sounds like it’s going to get worse before it gets any better out there," he observed.

  She nodded and glanced at him. Her thoughts remained centered on the currents of desire that arced between them whenever they looked at or touched each other. "Lots of cleanup tomorrow from the sound of things," she noted in an attempt to redirect her imagination.

  Dev pushed up to his feet. "I’m still not ready for bed. Do you mind if I help myself to a splash of brandy?"

  She smiled up at him. "Only if you don’t object to sharing it."

  Watching him stroll out of the living room, she savored the sight of his lean, hard body. She felt her awareness of the sensual pleasures they’d experienced together heighten even more. She shook her head, amazed that he still had the power to seduce her by simply walking across a room.