Mara jumped up, smacking him in the chin with the top of her head. His teeth cracked together, and his head spun for a second.
“Oh. Oh, God. Sorry.” She bent over and kissed his forehead. “Just…hang on to that thought for a second.” She disappeared through a curtain into the other room.
“I don’t have any thoughts left in my head after that blow,” he muttered, rubbing his chin. He heard her talking to herself as things rustled around.
Curious, Quinn stood and followed her. The room on the other side of the curtain was a tiny bedroom with barely enough space for a guy his size to hold out his arms. A narrow bed sat on a platform that jutted from a wide concrete column built into the center of the wall. Fire crackled behind an iron grate at the base of the column.
He walked over and placed his hand on the concrete. Warm. Huh. He looked at the bed and tried not to think of how easy it would be to share that warm, narrow space with Mara. “Interesting way to keep a bed warm.”
“Valentina said it’s called a soba,” Mara said as she continued searching for something in another one of the packs she must have brought from the van. “It’s their version of a furnace. There’s one in each section of the house.”
He lifted a brow. “You speak Russian?”
“I was an exchange student in Russia during high school. Spent a summer in St. Petersburg, studying history.” A shadow crossed her features. “I used to love history until Ramon told me it wasn’t a practical field of study. Oh, here it is.” She pulled something out of the pack but wouldn’t let him see it and held it behind her back. She nodded toward the bed. “Sit down.”
He did as she asked. “Now what?”
“Now…” With a flourish, she produced a photo. And not just any old photo, but the one he’d dropped at Olesea’s house. He slowly took it from her with hands that trembled. She had taped the two ragged halves together, and Sam and Bianca once again smiled up at him over their anniversary cake.
“I knew it was important to you,” she said, “so I picked it up before we left Olesea’s. I tried to tape it back together.”
“Mara.” His voice came out raw. “This is…” Nobody had ever done something so thoughtful for him, and he couldn’t find the words to express the emotions warring inside his chest. But he’d never been very good at saying the right thing anyway, so he set the photo aside and stood, wrapping her up in his arms. He poured everything he felt into the hug and hoped it was enough.
“You’re welcome, Travis.” The warmth in her brown eyes as she smiled undid him. Everything that had gone wrong and soured between them suddenly didn’t matter. It was all drama and senseless baggage that needed unpacking, but for now…
For now, she was here with him, and he had to hold her. He cared about this woman deeply, and in this perfect moment, none of the rest of it mattered.
“Now what?” She trembled ever so lightly in his arms.
Quinn cupped her cheek in his palm, tilting her head back until he had unrestrained access to her mouth. “Now, I’m going to kiss you.” He tugged at her lower lip with his teeth. “And more if you want.” He soothed the nip with his tongue, then claimed her mouth in a searing, soul-melding kiss. “Please say you want.”
“Oh, I want.” Her head fell back as he cupped her heavy breast through the fabric of her shirt, and he delighted in the expanse of smooth neck she exposed. He dipped his lips to trace the sleek column of her throat.
Too many layers between him and her skin. She was wearing far too much clothing, and he pulled his lips away long enough to rip her out of the button-up shirt. Metal buttons clinked to the floor and scattered underfoot, and he experienced a half second of sanity to worry that he’d just destroyed a shirt that impoverished Rustam probably all but gave her off his back. But then it didn’t matter because the fabric of her bra was so thin that she might as well have been wearing nothing at all. He took a moment to feast on her lovely round breasts with his eyes before returning to her with his hands and lips. Lush now, her body was the same and yet…very different. He wondered at how he’d missed it before. But this time, he would take his time and explore every inch of her, rediscover all the curves he’d found so enchanting over the summer.
“Oh, yes, I want,” she gasped and clutched at his head, her nails biting half moons into his skull. “I want so much. Always. I can’t seem to stop wanting around you.”
Nor could he around her. And he had to tell her that, to let her know about all the hot, foreign emotions she brought bubbling to the surface of the ice shell he’d locked around his heart long ago. But his voice deserted him. He had no words to describe what she made him feel.
She touched his cheek. Just a light caress of the tips of her fingers, but it sizzled across his nerves like a torrent of electricity, and his cock pulsed with need in response.
Straightening to his full height, Quinn gazed down into dark, expressive eyes that held nothing back, and for the length of a heartbeat, he saw himself the way she must see him. Too proud to let the world know how much he hurt inside, and too damn stubborn to know what was good for him. To her, he wasn’t a mercenary. He wasn’t a SEAL. He wasn’t an abused kid. He wasn’t a lost soul fighting hopeless wars with himself.
Not when he was with her. No, with her, he was a man. Her man.
“I’m here, Travis,” she said.
It was all he needed. He wrapped her up in his arms and stole her breath with a hard kiss. Far less gently than he’d planned, he spun around and tossed her on the bed. She bounced a little on the squeaky mattress and laughed, then sat up and wiggled out of her pants. She flung them at him, and he found himself smiling as he snatched them off his face. Mara laughed again and crooked a finger in a come-here gesture before reaching around behind her and unclasping her bra. Her breasts fell free, and his mouth watered for a taste of her.
Quinn all but ripped the fabric from his body then stretched out on the bed beside her, kissing her, feeling the weight of those lovely breasts in his hands, the rasp of her peaked nipples against his palms. He let his hands slide lower until he found her hot and ready for him.
He would taste her.
He licked his way down her body, pausing only to lave each nipple until she squirmed. He released her nipple with a popping sound and continued over her belly to the curly thatch of dark hair at the vee of her legs. Closing his eyes, he buried his face in her and drew her scent deep into his lungs. A pleasant buzz started in his head, and he realized he was getting high off her, off their lovemaking. He chuckled and dragged his tongue up her slit.
“Travis,” she moaned and bucked against him.
“Not yet, honey.” He smiled and licked her again, slowly, ending with light suction on her clit as he slid a finger inside her. Mara arched off the bed and let loose with a melodious string of Spanish, her body spasming around his hand.
“Mmm,” he breathed against the soft flesh of her thigh. “You know I love it when you talk dirty.”
Cheeks ablaze with color, she looked down the length of her body and met his gaze. Her breasts heaved with each gasping breath she took. “I think I cursed you to hell and called you a god in one breath.”
“A god?” He nuzzled her. “I really like that.”
“No, you don’t. You’d hate being a god. You’d rather be a god’s bodyguard.”
She knew him too well. She was already closer to him than he’d ever let anyone get before, and a hazy part of his brain told him to slam on the brakes now before she burrowed past his every last defense, but his brain wasn’t the organ in charge at the moment.
“I’d rather be your bodyguard, sweetheart.”
“You were already.” When his lips closed over her clitoris again, she moaned and dug her nails into his scalp. “You’re torturing me, Travis. I want you inside me.”
“Is that an order, ma’am? I’m good at taking orders.” He swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub and sucked it into his mouth.
Convulsing again, she cr
ied out. “Yes!”
“Roger that.” Quinn sat up and parted her legs, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of her wide-open and glistening with her desire for him.
“Travis, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He positioned his tip at her entrance and plunged into her, catching his breath at the exquisite pleasure. Her body was silk heat as it clenched around him. He had to grit his teeth against the urge to come.
No, he wasn’t letting this end. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Good thing he had phenomenal control, because this was going to last all night if he had anything to do with it.
Needing to go deeper, he propped himself on his arms and thrust into her, suddenly very aware of her gently rounded belly between them. Knowing what lay beneath should have turned him off. It should have scared him so much that his cock shriveled into a useless lump of flesh. But it didn’t. Impossibly, the idea that his seed had taken root inside her only hardened him to the point of pain, especially with her body clutching at him with every withdrawal, unwilling to let him go.
Her breasts were slightly larger than he remembered them, her nipples rosy brown. He had to taste them, had to feel those peaks puckering under his tongue as he moved inside her.
“Travis…” She shuddered. “I can’t. Oh, I can’t. It’s too much. I can’t.”
Quinn froze, tightening his muscles to keep from losing all control even as his cock bucked inside her, demanding he continue.
“Do you want to stop?” He would. Didn’t know how and it’d probably kill him, but if she called a halt to this, he would stop. “Are you uncomfortable?”
Big brown eyes opened and gazed up at him, brimming with emotions he didn’t dare put a name to. She bit her lip. “No. No, I want this. You. I need you, but I’m so sensitive. My breasts and…everything. It’s overwhelming. Just…go slow.”
“Okay.” He hung his head between his shoulders and breathed in and out a couple times, reining in his instincts to take her hard and fast, to claim her, brand her as his. There would be time for that later. Maybe. Right now, his priority was her comfort. Her enjoyment. She was always going to be his priority.
Slow.
Her breath hitched as he pushed into her, inch by excruciating inch. Slow, slow, so very slow that his muscles ached from the tight leash of restraint and sweat dripped into his eyes. After what seemed like a blissful and yet devastating eternity, he was seated inside her again. And she felt so good, so right. So his. His mind splintered, all intelligent thought fleeing except for one.
Home.
Finally, finally, he had a home. With her.
But that was ridiculous.
Quinn shoved the thought away and forced all of his attention to focus on her again. She was his priority, nothing else. Propping himself up on one elbow for leverage, he started an easy rocking rhythm and traced his lips along her jaw. He brushed her hair back from her ear and whispered, “Better?”
Mara arched her back on a moan, pushing against his thrusts. “You told me you don’t do gentle.”
“I don’t.” With his lips still on her jaw, he felt her smile and added, “At least I never have before. But for you—” His voice caught, but he didn’t bother trying to clear away the rustiness brought on by emotion. “Christ, Mara, you gotta know I’d do anything for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
He’d do anything for her. Yes, she knew that. He’d risked his life and his team’s lives to rescue her. But—and this thought nagged at her even as she basked in the immense pleasure of making love to him again—what about the baby? He hadn’t mentioned their baby once, and the oversight sat in the back of her mind until his intimate coaxing drove her up and up and brought them both to an orgasm that shattered all other thoughts.
Spooned against him, with his arms wrapped tightly around her and his body still buried deep inside hers, she let herself drift. Oh, she had needed this. She hated that about herself, wished she could be strong and self-reliant like Lanie, but she wasn’t cut from the same sturdy fabric as her best friend.
“You’re shaking.” His voice rumbled in his ear. “Are you cold?” He didn’t wait for an answer and reached down for the quilt folded at the bottom of the bed. He pulled it over them both.
That did it. The tears she’d refused to cry before flooded her eyes and seeped into the pillow.
Travis soothed a hand over her hair, down her shoulder and arm, and rested it on the curve of her hip. “What can I do for you, Mara?” He sounded at a complete loss and maybe a little bit terrified. “Please, don’t cry. Tell me what I can do to help.”
She shook her head and turned her face into the pillow. “It’s hormones. They’ve turned me into an emotional mess.”
He was silent for a long time, and in that moment, she wished desperately for the ability to read minds. She could only imagine what was going through his head. Part of her still feared he would deny the baby was his and demand a paternity test. But then his hand drifted from her hip to her belly and, dang it all, that made her start crying again.
Mara shut her eyes and let herself savor the embrace for one short second. She couldn’t allow herself more than that before shifting away, because the gesture absolutely did not mean the same to him as it did to her. He touched her belly like that out of curiosity, not any sense of possessiveness or love.
Was he even capable of love? She wanted more than anything to believe so but feared his life had broken him beyond repair. Maybe he didn’t have the ability to connect beyond sex. He’d already walked away from her twice, once after promising he wouldn’t. And, yes, maybe he had come back the second time, but who was to say he’d come back a third, or fourth, or fifth? She’d live every day with him in fear that he’d walk out the door and never come back.
She couldn’t do that. As much as she wanted to love him, she couldn’t put her baby through that kind of uncertain life.
She inched a couple centimeters away from him on the narrow bed, but it might as well have been a chasm for all the figurative space between them.
“Mara—”
“Don’t.”
“We need to talk about—”
“No, we don’t,” she insisted. “I expect nothing from you.”
He hooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Listen, you gotta know I wouldn’t have…if I’d known…”
“Oh, real nice, Travis.” She welcomed the rush of anger and wiped away her tears with the backs of her hands. “You wouldn’t have touched me had you known you’d knock me up?”
Color rushed into his cheeks. “Uh, yeah. No. I mean—”
“Well, it’s too late. You did touch me, and I did get pregnant.” She struggled to a sitting position and threw her pillow at him. “So either grow up and deal with it or leave us alone. We don’t need you.”
Wincing, he caught her hand. “Wait. Mara, that came out wrong, too. Goddammit, I never say the right things.”
“You think?” She shook off his grip and pushed herself to stand on her aching feet. She found her clothes on the floor. The memory of tossing her pants at him heated the back of her neck, but she shoved the shame ruthlessly aside and stepped into the leg holes. Her shirt was ruined, the buttons gone, so she grabbed his T-shirt instead. Let him find his own clothes.
“Okay, so maybe I meant that exactly like it sounded,” he admitted and sat up, apparently unconcerned with his nudity. His penis was still half hard. “But you can’t tell me you didn’t think the exact same thing when that test first turned pink or blue or whatever it does when you’re pregnant. You’ve had six weeks to come to terms with this. I’ve only had a couple days, so you’ll have to forgive me for not running out and buying myself a World’s Greatest Dad T-shirt.”
“You are such a jerk.” She turned toward the door but whirled back. “And for your information, I was happy. After you walked out like you did—leaving me in the middle of the night without a fucking word—you broke me, Travis. I fell in love with you that week, th
ough God knows why, and I thought I’d be alone for the rest of my life because I couldn’t forget you.”
His mouth dropped open. “You…what?”
Her cheeks heated, but she refused to take it back. “When I realized I missed a period, I bought a pregnancy test hoping it came up positive, despite the fact I knew my asshole of a stepdad would throw a fit. I was excited. I thought if I couldn’t have you, I’d at least have a piece of you.”
Emotions battled over his face for an instant before he slammed that blank, expressionless mask of his back into place. “Mara,” he said very evenly. “You didn’t purposely get pregnant, did you?”
Oh. My. God. She stared at him in stunned horror. Had he really just asked that?
“Mara,” he said again, a soft note of warning in his voice. A tone she imagined he’d use when their baby misbehaved. That was, if she ever let the jerk see their baby. Right now, she was having serious doubts about that.
“No, I didn’t.” She flung back the curtain covering the door. “And screw you for even thinking I’d do something like that.”
…
That had been the wrong thing to say. Wrong, wrong thing to say. Especially since he knew better. Mara didn’t have a conniving bone in her body. The thought of getting pregnant on purpose to trap him wouldn’t have even entered her mind.
Why could he never find the right words when she was around? Seemed like every time he opened his mouth, a bunch of bullshit came spilling out and he couldn’t stop it.
Groaning at his own stupidity, he leaped to his feet. “Mara, wait.”
Her shoulders straightened. She whirled around, stalked back into the bedroom, and the hurt in her eyes as she glared at him cut him to the bone. “The least you can do is tell me why. Why did you leave?”
The thought crossed his mind to play dumb, but that was the coward’s way out. He knew exactly what she was asking him about. That night. She wanted to know about that beautiful and goddamn awful night he’d walked out six weeks ago.
Broken Honor Page 20