by Milly Taiden
“Who said anything about attraction? Not me. I just asked you to sit.” His smile was huge. Well, fuck her. She’d totally given herself away. This was going to be really bad. She’d be getting herself into a whole lot of shit. Some of it she wouldn’t know how to handle, but she was a big girl wearing her big-girl panties. Besides, didn’t everyone have a one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger in their lives? This would be hers.
And well, dammit, he’d made her feel special. That’s one thing in the army you didn’t want: to stand out, to be special in any way. Those who made impressions were the ones picked on the most. And she’d almost forgotten: he loved small arms as much as she did. Maybe they could talk guns for a while. Great idea! Now she felt better about this.
She plopped down on the fluffy rug next to him and pilfered a cracker with a sausage slice and cheese. “Did you know the ASh first came out in 2011?” she said.
“Do you know beautiful you are?” Josh asked totally ignoring her question. That shocked her. She was as plain Jane as they came. Well, she’d ignore his comment because a, she didn’t know how to respond, and b, she had no clue how to respond.
She continued, not missing a beat. “Shortly after that—”
Josh partially sat up and leaned toward her. His warm lips were over hers before she realized what was going on. All kinds of shit blew up inside her. More stuff she didn’t know how to respond to. The thought occurred to her that she’d forgotten how to kiss. When his tongue glided along the seam of her mouth, she opened more than her lips to him.
His lips were on hers. An instant fire burst in her veins and rushed through her body, pooling at her groin. She’d never felt anything like this. So hot. So raw. So desperate. Her hands crawled up his torso, tracing muscles, memorizing every delicious inch of him. She whimpered in the back of her throat and took and gave. Her heart thudded hard with every harsh breath shared between them. He kissed her neck, then her jaw. Her clothes came off in a rush of broken kisses and desperate pleas.
She moaned, her pussy aching for his attention. “Josh, please.”
“Soon, baby. Very soon,” he murmured, his tongue going around a circle over her curved belly and dipping into her belly button.
Her breaths reeled. Lord have fucking mercy. This guy was amazing. He continued his journey south, and she prayed she could survive this because she so wanted to know how it would feel to actually have an orgasm. Then he was there. His hot breath on her inner thighs. His cool tongue gliding over her heated flesh and working its way closer and closer to her pussy. She held her breath as his tongue dipped into her entrance, and she was lost to the bliss he was imparting on her pussy. He licked around her pussy lips and proceeded to fuck her with his tongue. She panted and ground her hips down, closer to his face.
“Please . . .”
She whimpered when he did a slow trail around her clit with his tongue.
“Tell me you want this, Candy,” he growled against her pussy, sending electric pulses up her spine.
“God, yes. I want this. I want you. Please, Josh.”
“Fuck, Candy. You’re sweeter than honey. I could eat you for hours.” He flicked his tongue twice over her clit. Her brain cells melted at that point. He rubbed his fingers up and down her pussy, wetting them with her dripping heat. Feeling his calloused fingers over her sensitive flesh turned into a new point of pleasure. She groaned and tightened her hold on the blanket. Her hips rocked on his face involuntarily.
He sucked on her clit while his fingers curled and thrust in and out of her. It took very little for her to go over the edge. Her heart pounded in her ears, each beat a fierce, wild gallop. Tension unraveled inside her, pushing her headfirst into an all-consuming orgasm. She screamed when a wave of pleasure rushed through her.
Panting like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs, she blinked the haze of happiness away.
* * *
* * *
When he pulled back, she could barely move. Her entire body tingled, breathing in quick gulps. She guessed he didn’t want to talk about guns. He breathed deeply, moaned and lay back on the rug. “Candy, what you do to me is driving me crazy. You smell so good, yet you won’t let me do more. Why? What are you afraid of?”
There was that word again implying she was flawed, less than perfect, that she’d bow down to someone instead of ruling the roost. Her father knew exactly what he was doing when he reigned in the house.
She frowned. “I think I’ll just let you touch me a lot. All of me, actually. As I said before, I’m not afraid of anything.” Way to ruin the fucking mood. Literally.
“That’s not what your body is telling me. It’s says you’re frightened of something and need sex really, really, badly.”
Oh my fucking god. She wanted the fire in the fireplace to jump on her and burn her to ashes. No need. Her body was about to spontaneously combust from embarrassment, anger, and shame. She rolled away from him and started to get up to gather her clothes and leave. She didn’t give a shit if he was here all night by himself.
“No, wait, Candy. I apologize,” Josh said. His hand was on her forearm. She stared at it. Since physical contact was rare and far between in her life, when someone did touch her, it made an impact on her. The fingers wrapped around her wrist were strong, rough from manual labor. His palm was hot like he’d held it to the coals.
She met his gaze, his eyes glowing around the blue irises. The radiance brought up a long-forgotten memory. One that had tugged at her brain earlier. A time when she was young, before her mother—“Holy shit,” she let out. “My mother’s eyes sometimes glowed like yours.”
His look narrowed and he was quiet for a moment before asking, “Were those instances highly emotional for her?” Josh asked.
She didn’t want to think about those times. They were the worst. She looked away from him. “Yes.”
He rested his hand on her bent knee, sending goose bumps to her foot. “You have shifter genes in your family tree. That explains a lot,” he said, lying back.
Her head snapped around. “What does it explain? Tell me.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Josh lay on the furry rug in Candy’s office, thinking about her traits. “For starters,” Josh began, “that’s why you’re so damn strong. You’ve excelled more than ninety-nine percent of the men, and it makes even more sense why we’re true ma—” Shit. He’d almost said “mates.” No way was she ready for that info. Damn, this relationship would’ve ended before it got started. “Sorry, I misspoke. I meant to say, it hints at why you’re in the military.” He stressed the pronoun, hoping she’d forget about the word “true.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked.
How did he explain shifters to a newbie to their world? “Shifters are survivors. They can fight their way out of just about anything. Nothing scares them.” He pointedly looked at her. “Sound familiar?”
Candy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever, what else does it say about me?”
“A lot of shifters are adrenaline junkies. Sometimes they do things just for the rush.”
She thought about the medevacs from the battlefield and front line. Did she crave the rush? Hell, even the time she picked up the SF boys. “What does SF stand for?” she asked.
“Shifter forces.”
“Seriously? That’s it?” By the dramatic way those groups were talked about and treated, she figured it was big Latin or Greek words standing for “almost a god to everyone else.”
She became lost in thoughts. Thoughts that caused her emotional pain. His wolf jumped forward wanting to console their mate, make everything all right, make her happy. “Where are you, Candy?” he whispered. “What do you see?”
She shook her head, coming back to the present. “Nothing. Just childhood stuff.” He noted her shiny eyes that went along with her smell. She didn’t want to talk about her past, so i
t had to have been difficult. What had she survived? “Tell me about yourself,” Josh said, taking a different route.
“Dear god, this sounds like an interview for a corporate job,” she said. They laughed lightly. “I don’t know. I’m pretty boring. Enlisted when I was eighteen. Made sergeant quicker than most females who earn that rank.” She shrugged.
“What is your job?” he asked, wondering about her shifter blood.
“Until this job, I flew medical evacuations during combat.”
“Shit,” he said. “Talk about adrenaline rush. You were all over that.”
She smiled. “Yes, I was. I loved it. Miss it sometimes.”
He asked, “Do you have a lot of family?”
“No. I have a younger brother and sister. My mother died when I was twelve. I don’t know if my father is alive or not. Don’t care either.” There was that agony he kept smelling. It had to do with her past.
Putting a bit of calming control in his voice, he said, “Why don’t you care if he’s dead?” He needed to be very careful not to scare her away, but he needed to know what had happened if he was to help her. If she truly didn’t want to answer, he wouldn’t force her.
It drove him crazy when a woman said nothing was wrong when it was obviously the opposite. If he didn’t know what he did wrong, how could he change it? Women thought men should be able to read their minds and just know. But Sheldon was so right. Women were way more complex than men, too much shit always floating in their heads. Men were BSS: beer, sex, sports, not necessarily in that order.
Her body stiffened a bit from the command he gave. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.”
He scooped her hand into his and kissed each finger, as he had earlier, to comfort her. She stared at him with wide eyes. “What?” he asked.
“It . . . you . . . I never had anyone do that before,” she whispered, looking at their joined hands. “You’ve done it twice.”
His heart broke for his mate. She’d been deprived of love for a long time. He didn’t need to know her past to realize that. Once she knew everything, he would give her so much love that she wouldn’t be able to stand it. That made him smile to himself. But there was a huge obstacle in the way of getting there: her. Something was blocking her emotions, her ability to care and love. He had to figure out what it was if they were to have any hope of mating.
“Candy, you have to know I’m attracted to you as much as you admitted you’re attracted to me.” He held on to her hand tightly in case she tried to bolt. “Are you going to be strong and face those feelings or cut and retreat?” He hoped using her language would help the communication between them.
A touch of anger floated in the air. “I am not a coward,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“I know you’re not. That’s why we’re talking through this. Would you like to know how I see you, in truth?” he asked. She locked eyes with him, that fright returning.
“I want to ask you a question first,” she pleaded. He nodded. “What is a mate? I’ve been called that several times tonight.”
Damn, she’d caught those references. He groaned and squeezed his eyes closed. This wasn’t the time. She wasn’t ready. But he wasn’t starting the relationship by telling lies.
“The answer is complicated, but I’ll give you the easy answer now. Is that all right?” God, he hoped that was all right. She nodded and he breathed again. “A mate is a companion, someone who sticks by you through good and bad.”
“Oh, like a best friend,” she theorized.
“Yes, like a best friend.” And whole lot more which included sex, which was why his body was saying to take her now. Again, she wasn’t ready.
“So I’m to be your best friend? I’ve never had one of those. Your guys called me your mate. How can they know that? What if I don’t like you?” she asked.
He cringed inside at the words. It was possible that mates wouldn’t like each other, but he’d never heard of it. Even with a human mate.
“We’re here right now to work on that. I want to get to know you, inside and out.” She didn’t miss his innuendo. Her arousal rose thick in the air. His wolf was about to have a cow. It wanted her NOW. Chill out, he told it.
Her chin dropped to her chest. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to know about me,” she whispered.
“Why not?” he replied.
“Because . . .” she paused and sighed. “Because my growing up wasn’t pretty. I hated my life.” Tears were building in her eyes, but she straightened her back and held them in. She was strong; she wanted the world to see she wasn’t a pushover or weakling.
Josh scooted closer to her so he could touch more of her. She hadn’t objected, yet, so he took that as a positive sign. “Candy, you are one of the toughest people I’ve ever met.”
She rolled her eyes to meet his. “Really? You think that?”
“Absolutely. How many female sergeant majors are there?” he asked.
“Well, I’m the first, actually,” she replied. Holy shit, his mate was a powerhouse of a woman.
“That says enough, right there,” he commented. “I see a beautiful woman who will kick ass when required. No one sees you as weak or vulnerable.”
“I hope not,” she said. “I’ve spent twenty years proving my worth to this military.”
“Yes,” he responded. “So opening up to someone, like your best friend, won’t make you look feeble. We’re here to strengthen each other. Make each other better, more loving people.”
“I can’t do that,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Jeez Louise, how do I say this and not sound . . . stupid?” Her hand wiped her face.
“To me, you will never come across as stupid. Don’t ever think that.” Her personal self-image needed help while her professional image was buttoned down. No wonder she slipped into that tough-as-nails persona when she felt threatened. If he could just get her to relax and trust him, he would get past whatever blocked her.
Candy sighed. “I’ve never been in love. I don’t even know what love feels like.”
He asked, “You love your family, right?”
“No, but I did once. That was so long ago, I don’t remember anything about it. My father did a great job of shutting down any happiness in the family.”
“Was he mean?” he asked.
She tilted back and looked at the ceiling. “‘Mean’ doesn’t begin to describe it. I think ‘sadistic drunk’ would be a better description. An angry, hate-filled bastard whose misery wanted all the company it could get.”
“Did he hurt you?” His anger at a man who’d put his hands on her grew. He hadn’t been there in her childhood to protect her. But he’d do his best now.
“Every day. But I got used to it. Even took the prick’s attention away from my siblings when they got in his crosshairs.” That was why she didn’t like to be touched. In her mind, touch equated to pain. When her father touched her, she knew what was coming. This was killing him. She needed to be happy again. He’d get her there with time.
Josh swallowed hard thinking how to phrase this question. “Did he ever . . . did he . . .” Not a good start.
“Did he ever touch me inappropriately?” Yeah, that’s what he’d tried to say. “No. The bastard was too drunk to do anything but hit with his fist. Couldn’t make it up the stairs to our rooms where we hid when he fought with mom in the beginning.”
“In the beginning? Did they stop fighting after a while?” he asked.
A boatload of emotional agony and grief came over her. She scowled and sat straighter, sliding into the other person she used as an escape. Her having an alter ego, a mask to hide behind, made all the sense in the world now. When things at home went to hell, she pretended to be someone, somewhere, else who was happy and had a better life. Coping strategies. Psych 101.
Chapter Twenty-three
As Candy sat on the floor of her office with a man who enticed her too much, emotions she didn’t want to deal with bubbled inside her, ready to explode like a volcano. It had taken her a long time to suppress the tumultuous disaster her life was, to push it down so far inside, it would never see the light of day. Apparently, that wasn’t enough.
Here she was pouring her heart out to a man she didn’t know, but was highly attracted to. There was something about him that made her want to trust him. Believe in him. Talking to him was so easy, too easy. Like they had been best friends for years. Mates.
Thinking back to when her mother died made her want to curl into a ball and cry until the pain was gone. But that wouldn’t happen. She hadn’t cried since she was twelve. The ache would forever be there, ready to eat her alive when helpless against it. Solution: don’t be vulnerable. She sat up straighter and yanked down her white T-shirt.
“You didn’t really kill your mother. Did you?” The way he asked sounded funny in her ears. Like he didn’t believe she would do that. Then again, maybe he would. She laughed, releasing some pent-up emotion.
“No, I didn’t,” she confirmed. “The drunk prick did. But I was the cause of it.” She took herself back to that awful day. She would finally tell someone the horrible truth of the moment that had changed her young life.
“I had come home from school angry because my favorite teacher was going on maternity leave and would be gone for a few months. Her substitute was a grouchy old man who liked to call you out in front of the class to ‘teach you a lesson.’
“When I came through the kitchen door, Mom was cooking dinner. Spaghetti with hot dogs cut up in it. My favorite, but it didn’t cheer me up. I stomped over the linoleum toward the other room. I told my mom I was mad at Mrs. Carpenter and wasn’t going back to school, ever. She smiled and asked me how I had arrived at that conclusion. I had reached the stairs in the living room at the point and hollered back to her, ‘She’s leaving because she’s pregnant.’