by Jen Talty
He inched closer. His lips curled into a soft smile.
“I want to make a few things clear,” she said, needing to protect her heart and his as well. They each had their own issues regarding commitment, something neither one of them had ever really discussed, but she understood his and suspected he’d accept hers. “Your cognitive processing is getting better. I’m no neurologist, but over the course of this week, I’ve seen little to no signs of any problems. I believe you’re going back to Delta Force the second you get the thumbs up.”
He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor in front of her closet. “I’ll find out tomorrow if the doc thinks my brain is functioning properly. I feel confident that will be good news, which means, yes, as soon as my body is healed, I’m back to active duty.”
She swallowed her own emotions, fighting the strong feelings that swelled deep in her soul. She and Dylan could never have more than a night or two in each other’s arms. A relationship with him was destined to fail.
“What else do you want to clarify?” He rolled his jeans over his hips before sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his removable cast. His back muscles flexed, but it was hard not to focus on the scars covering half his back. Tentatively, she reached out, but quickly retreated.
“I don’t want a relationship with anyone right now. I’ve got a lot of things going on, and I don’t have room for a man, even one as sweet and kind as you,” she said.
He tapped his chest. “Ouch, but I do understand. I’m not like my brothers. I don’t want to get married, have kids, settle down. I like my life and other than this little blimp in my psyche, I have no intention of changing anything about my life, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you, even if it’s only for a short time.”
Her eyes widened as he removed the rest of his clothes before putting his boot back on and climbing between the sheets, shamelessly naked.
“It’s not that I don’t care, because I do.” He rested his head on his elbow, his other hand inching under her T-shirt. “I like you. You’re kind, and sweet, and I feel comfortable with you. More so than I have with any other woman I’ve ever spent time with. However, I’m probably going to only be here until the day after the parade, and then back to Ft. Bragg, so, if you think a few nights of intense passion is a bad thing, I’ll get dressed and leave now. No hard feelings.”
“I wouldn’t have invited you in to my bed if I didn’t want to spend the night with you.”
He arched a brow. “Do I sense a but or another thing we need clarified?”
Laughing, she ran her hand gently across his chest, avoiding the raw scars that still had to cause him some pain. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re still in a cast, and your wounds—”
He groaned, dropping his head to her chest. “And here I was feeling confident I could give you a fantastic evening, satisfying you until you sank into a deep sleep in my arms. Now I’m wondering if I’ll even be able to perform.”
She burst out laughing, which was a completely inappropriate response.
“I don’t see the humor in that statement.”
Sitting up, she yanked her shirt off, exposing her bare chest. Her nipples puckered in the cool air. She resisted the urge to cover them as he stared like a doe in headlights. “You can just lay there. I’ll do most of the work.”
Cupping her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he shook his head. “That doesn’t work for me, but I think I’ll have to pass on swinging from the chandelier.” He winced when he tried to raise his upper body.
“Let me bring them to you,” she murmured, shocked by her ability to tease, at the same time lifting her breast to his mouth, letting him take his fill.
He held her gaze as his tongue flicked over the hard nub, his free hand roaming up and down her back, tracing a line over her spine, slipping his fingers under the fabric of her shorts.
With every sharp inhale, her lungs burned with desire. As she exhaled, a moan got caught in her throat.
“Can we please get you out of these?” He tugged at the elastic.
“Gladly.” Without wasting any time, she kicked off the rest of her clothes, while shoving the sheets to the foot of the bed. “I can’t say I’ve ever made love to a man with a boot on one leg.”
He laughed, though it wasn’t a funny sound, more like a sarcastic grunt. “Or burns and scars all over his body.”
Kneeling next to him, she raised her finger over his chest, scant centimeters from a scar. “Does it hurt if I touch?”
“More like itches at this point.”
Tentatively, she grazed his tender body with her fingertips. The red skin felt tighter than the rest, but he showed no signs of pain. She leaned over, kissing each burn mark, and traced her finger across every scar. She couldn’t fathom the physical and emotional pain he’d endured. She tried not to focus on it too much because it brought tears to her eyes, and this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of emotion. This was all about healing.
And not just him.
His fingers threaded through her hair as she bought her lips to his. Their tongues rolled together like a roasted marshmallow melting chocolate over a graham cracker. His touch tender and sweet. Nothing desperate or rushed. Every movement had purpose. He explored her as if she were a fine piece of art, and she did the same. She wanted to know what every inch of his body felt like.
Tasted like.
How it smelled and how his muscles would react with different ways she brought him pleasure.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman,” he whispered, pushing her to her back. He scooted down the bed.
“What constitutes a long time?”
“Over six months.” His tongue glided up her inner thigh while his gaze captured hers, not letting it go.
Clutching the sheets in her hands, she prepared for what she hoped would last more than a few minutes. Not on his part, but on hers.
Her body ached and throbbed and she figured if his mouth touched her intimately, she’d cave, quivering before it even really began.
“But something tells me this is going to be like nothing I’ve ever experienced before and will be impossible to top, ever,” he whispered as his lips kissed her hard, throbbing nub.
Dropping her head back, she held her breath for long moments before sucking in air, only to let it out in a guttural moan. He didn’t rush, but he didn’t leave any part of her untouched or undevoured. He made her feel like giving her pleasure made his all the sweeter.
Or that her satisfaction meant more to him than his own.
Either way, she wasn’t going to second-guess her need to be pleased, or her selfish desire to take all he had to offer.
Her toes curled as she tried to fend off the rush that threatened. It felt like waves crashing into the sand, pulling her into the water, only to bring her back to the shore. It was a push and a pull that sent her body reeling.
She did everything she could she could to keep herself from letting go, but it came to no avail. “Dylan,” she said in a panty breath, her legs closing around his head. Her hands digging into the bed. Her screams filling the room as the scent of sex engulfed her. He trembled for a good five minutes as he kissed, and prodded, and continued to make her body shiver like the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“God, I hope I can make you do that again,” he murmured as he kissed his way up her stomach, shifting slightly as he gently kissed one nipple, then the other. “This position, though, is killing my ankle, mind being on top?”
She cupped his face. “Is that request really because of your ankle, or more of a personal preference?”
“I like sex in every position, so this would work just fine, but really, the angle kind of hurts my foot.”
“Your honesty will get you whatever you want.” Shamelessly, she rolled on top of him, straddling him, careful not to hit his foot, or bother too many of his wounds. Taking him slowly inside, she squeezed herself around his
length.
He dug his fingers into her hips. His eyelids grew heavy as he moaned, tightening his body. “I won’t last half as long as you did.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“God, no. I want you to orgasm again more than I want to and good Lord, do I want to.”
She lowered her hand, rubbing her fingers across her tight nub as she rocked gently over him, grinding slowly, then lifting up and down.
He stared up at her, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. His body tensed in unison with hers. Their eyes locked on one another. She couldn’t think of another time sex had been this powerful.
Intense.
Loving.
With that thought, her orgasm ripped through her like a raging river headed toward a steep waterfall. She clutched at his chest, calling out his name.
He pulled her close, kissing her lips, moaning deeply into her mouth as he lunged his hips upward, slamming his orgasm inside her.
Every inch of her skin tickled with delight. Her stomach quivered over and over again, and she wondered if it would ever stop.
As he slowed the motions of their bodies, she collapsed on top of his chest. His fingers danced up and down her spine as he kissed her cheek and neck, whispering how wonderful he thought she was and how amazing this night had been.
He might have even said thank you as she drifted off to sleep with her tucked neatly in his arms.
For the first time, she felt like she might have found home.
Chapter 10
Kinsley didn’t regret much in her life, and she sure as hell didn’t regret sleeping with Dylan, but that didn’t change he’d be walking out of her life in a week.
The morning sun had yet to fill the sky as Kinsley quietly slipped from her bed. Dylan lay blissfully asleep and if she wasn’t mistaken, he had a smile on his face. In the few hours they had slept, not one single nightmare. She knew he wasn’t cured, but he was on the mend. Understanding the source of one’s anguish was a big step. Accepting it was huge, and Dylan had accepted it with every ounce of his being.
He wanted to understand and move past it, and that made her job easier.
Only it wasn’t a job.
She stepped from her bedroom, not closing the door all the way since it would make a creaking noise. She really didn’t want to disturb him, though part of her still worried that he could have a horrible a dream and wake up screaming.
Padding toward the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee and found her phone. Damn, only ten percent charged, but she did have a charger in her car and that should be enough to get through the day.
It buzzed with a text message.
Catherine: Sorry to bother you, but Dylan isn’t answering his phone. Is he okay?
Talk about awkward. How the hell did she answer that one?
Kinsley: Yes. He’s sleeping and since I don’t believe he had a bad dream, I hate to wake him, but I will if you want me to.
Catherine: No. But can I come over? I’ll bring coffee.
Kinsley: Brewing a pot now. I don’t have too much time. I have to leave for work in an hour and a half.
To be totally honest, Kinsley could get ready for work in twenty minutes. Lucky for her, she didn’t have to dry her hair, and if she was indeed having a bad hair day, she’d simply put it up. And what little makeup she wore, would take three minutes to apply. The longest part of her morning was sitting on the porch, enjoying the sun rise, or taking a stroll on the beach. That was the only reason she got up so early.
So, she absolutely had time for Catherine, regardless of how embarrassing it might be.
Kinsley grabbed her mug and poured the dark, hot liquid before racing out of the house. She glanced down at her attire before she stepped onto the porch. A pair of leggings and a T-shirt should be fine. Her hair, on the other hand, had to say, look at me, I had mad sex last night with your son.
The latter part of that thought made her cough.
She managed to situate herself in her favorite chair before Catherine arrived, dressed and ready for work.
Catherine was a natural beauty with her dark-blond hair, blue eyes, and the figure of a twenty-year-old. But it was her warm, loving personality that made her the kind of woman men wanted to be with and other ladies strived to be like.
“Good morning, dear,” Catherine said as she sat in the chair next to Kinsley, sipping from her own mug. “So, Dylan slept without a nightmare?”
Kinsley nodded.
“I take it he’s really confided in you what’s been going on in his head.”
Kinsley never liked brushing people off, and even though Dylan wasn’t a client, it wasn’t her place to tell his mother anything. “We’ve talked, but I can’t break his confidence in trusting me. Can we leave it at that?”
“Can I at least ask what you think of his progress? If he’ll be able to go back to Delta Force the same man?”
Dylan would never be the same, not after what he experienced in the field, but her professional opinion was that he’d be able to go back and perform his duties to the best of his abilities, which she suspected were better than most. While she couldn’t be certain with their short time together, she believed the reason his nightmares haunted him so much was that he felt responsible for everyone, including his brothers and their families. She wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to let some of that go, but he did know he couldn’t protect everyone all the time.
“Catherine, I told you at the start, that anything he has told me, or my professional opinion, would be between me and him.”
“I can accept that,” Catherine said with a nod. “He’s my baby boy, and I worry so much about him. Not just because of his job. I was married to a cop. I’ve had three other sons have dangerous jobs. Hell, even with the Aegis Network, their jobs still can be risky, but Dylan has always been slightly withdrawn. Always hiding inside himself, never opening himself up to others. To a relationship. To love. Hell, even Ramey, the one who was a womanizing asshole for half his life, found the love of a good woman and mended his restless soul. Sometimes I think somewhere along the line, we broke Dylan’s.”
“He’s not broken. Not like that,” Kinsley said. “He’s capable of love. Actually, he loves very deeply, he just needs his work. That’s who he is. Trust me when I say, he’ll get through this part of the healing process.”
“That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.” Catherine set her mug on the table. “Logan, my oldest, was always so put together. He had goals, and he did what he needed to make them happen, even if that meant leaving behind the only woman he could ever love. It took him awhile to settle that restless heart of his, but he did. Nick, oh that one.” Catherine clutched her heart. “He fell in love so hard and fast, he quit school, became a cop, and settled in for what he thought would be an easy life. When Joanne died, it shattered his hold on what he held dear. He ran off and followed Logan’s path in the military. For years, I worried more about him more than I did about Dylan, only I knew deep in my soul, Nick would find love again. It’s who he is.”
“All your boys are good men. It’s a testament to their mother.”
“Thank you,” Catherine said. “Ramey doesn’t talk about it ever, but he too had his heart broken. Different than Nick, but it changed him, and that’s when women became people he shared a bed with. That was until Tequila walked into his life and turned it upside down, for the better.”
“Not everyone is meant to be married. To be in a lifelong relationship.”
Catherine let out a long sigh. “I can actually understand that. Since my Michael died, I have only dated a few times. I haven’t been with another man in years, and I really don’t have much of a desire to, but I at least experienced what that kind of love is like and as I always told Nick, it’s better to have loved and lost, than never know what that feeling is like.”
“And you want Dylan to love someone, if only to know how it feels?” It wasn’t really a question, but she posed it as one.
“Yes. I
do.”
Kinsley shifted so she could make eye contact. “My mother has been married six times, and I can tell you with each husband, she has loved them with all her heart and soul, but she doesn’t know how to stay in love. She doesn’t know what it takes to make it work. That doesn’t make her bad, or broken, it’s just who she is. Dylan loves his work. He loves his men like family, which is why this last mission was so hard on him. Being with a woman, falling in love that way, might not be what is best for him.”
“What about for you? What is best for you?” Catherine asked with a scowl.
“I’m not the woman for Dylan, if that is where this is going.” Kinsley held up her hand when Catherine opened her mouth in protest. “I do care about him. I let him stay here last night because I care more about him than I should. If there were a man I could fall for, it would be someone like him. But, Catherine, I have my own set of issues and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but Dylan and I aren’t made for each other. We are simply two people who came together during a difficult time and helped each other. I think we’ll always be friends, but don’t push me on him. Don’t push anyone on him. If he’s going to fall in love and be with a woman, it will be on his terms.”
Catherine tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m not pushing either one of you into each other’s arms. You both did that all on your own. All I’m asking of you now, and I’ll ask my son the same thing when I see him, is to be honest with how you feel about one another. And how you really feel about the prospect of spending the rest of your life wondering if the right one got away.”
Kinsley blinked, processing the same information her mother would toss out every time she walked down the aisle.
“I’m sorry,” Catherine said. “That really isn’t where I meant this conversation to go, only that I see you and my son together, and I know there is something there, even if you don’t see it yet, or feel it, or are fighting it. My only wish is that the two of you take the opportunity to explore what might be.”