She reached for him, clearly still uneasy over the attention.
Grasping her hand, Ty set it gently on the bed beside her. “Nope. You get to enjoy. Take what I’m giving you, Van. Take it all. I want you to feel how beautiful you are. Understand that to me, every inch of you is fascinating and inspiring.”
Her fingers tightened on the sheet at her hip, digging into the mattress beneath the cloth. Her hips shifted, rising off the bed as her back arched.
A grin tugged at his lips.
“Cocky bastard,” she breathed out, even as she silently begged for more.
“Guilty as charged.” But that wasn’t going to stop him. And she knew it.
Ty’s fingers slipped across her skin, up her legs, over her ribs, across her belly, collarbone. The ball of her shoulder and each slender finger on her hands. He caressed and teased. Kneading into her muscles and then barely skimming across her skin, forcing goose bumps to the surface.
The dark pink tips of her breasts puckered, begging him, but he ignored them. When his palm grazed close to the strip of hair covering her sex, Van whimpered. But he ignored that pretty plea, too.
He wasn’t satisfied until she was writhing, her body following the path of each caress, bucking and pushing into him, searching for more.
Her eyes gleamed with need, with desire and impatience.
“Stop teasing me, Ty. You’ve made your point.”
“Have I?”
“Yes. Now for the love of all that’s good and holy, touch me.”
“Pretty sure that’s what I’ve been doing, princess.”
Her gaze narrowed. She took a deep breath, her breasts bobbing with the motion. God, he wasn’t going to last much longer. She wasn’t the only one he’d been torturing all this time.
His cock was so hard the ache was an incessant beat pounding through his body.
“Screw this.” Van surged up, grasped his shoulders in both hands and twisted.
He was surprised, and still off his game from the concussion—that was the only reason she got the jump on him. Even as his back hit the bed, Ty blinked up at her in astonishment.
But Van was a woman on a mission.
Straddling his hips, she pinned him down with the weight of her body. Even so, he could have had their positions flipped in seconds flat. But he wanted to see what she’d do; Savannah Cantrell in charge was a sexy thing to behold.
Dark brown hair swirled around her shoulders, tumbling down her back. She leaned over him, bringing the pouting tip of her nipple close enough for him to surge up and suck it deep inside.
She groaned, her hips rolling against him. Her slick arousal spread across his pulsing erection.
“Now touch me,” she panted, demanding, “like you mean it.”
Scraping his teeth lightly over her skin, he dragged them up until he gently held the tight bud between his teeth. He sucked in air, letting it slip across her wet skin and then flicked at the tip he held prisoner.
“Freaking hell,” she groaned, even as she fumbled inside the bedside table. He knew exactly what she was going for and decided to see just how distracted he could make her.
Pushing his hips deep into the bed, he slipped a hand between them and found her slick center. Sinking his fingers deep inside was heaven.
She was so hot and wet. The muscles of her sex clamped down at his invasion, sucking him deeper, begging for more. Curling his fingers, he found the spot hidden deep inside and rubbed.
Above him, her whole body trembled.
She rode his hand, a confetti of condoms landing on the bed around them, across his chest. At least twenty of them.
“You plan to use all those tonight?”
“What?” she asked, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Her hips rolled with each push and pull of his fingers. Caught between them, his cock felt each slip and slide.
Enough, he wanted inside.
Changing gears to grasp her hips, Ty lifted her and set her farther back in his lap. Sweeping away the others on his chest, he grabbed a condom and rolled it on.
Van was waiting, eager, already up on her knees, poised to take him deep.
The expression of ecstasy that crossed her face...the way her eyes slid shut, drove straight to the center of him. Knowing he was the source of it did something to him.
It made him want to do this over and over again just so that he could see that moment. Made him want to roar with accomplishment and satisfaction. Made him want to take out a billboard so the entire world would know just what they had when they were together.
Instead, he savored the moment.
Bracing her hands on his shoulders, Van began to swirl her hips. She didn’t wait for him to take control. She took what she wanted.
And that was sexy as hell.
Up and down, she rode him, head thrown back. She felt so damn good. Unbelievable.
But he wanted more.
Wrapping his palms around her face, he dragged her head down and demanded, “Open your eyes, Van. Look at me.”
She did, her glazed stare finding his. Her hair spilled across the backs of his hands, so soft, just like her skin.
In that moment, neither of them could hide. He saw everything she was feeling in her eyes, her expression. Yes, pleasure. Joy. But more. There was something bigger, building, growing. Fed by the connection and history that they shared. Nurtured by the understanding and recognition that they each saw the other for who they really were—not who they chose to show the rest of the world.
Ty could feel the explosion building at the base of his spine, but gritted his teeth and willfully held it back. He could feel Van’s body winding tighter and tighter, her strokes becoming more and more erratic.
Grasping her hips, Ty helped her, guided her. His hips arched up off the bed, deepening each thrust so that they were as connected as humanly possible.
Her entire body quivered with it. “Ty. God. Oh.”
“Let go, princess. Give it to me.”
“I can’t... I don’t...”
“You can.” His teeth ground together, fighting. “You will. Now.”
Her body convulsed with the power of the orgasm that tore through her. But she kept her eyes trained on him. He saw the wonder, the bliss and the fear all swirling through her expression. She gave that to him, too.
But he barely had any time to dwell on that before the shuddering muscles of her sex pulled him over, too.
Ty groaned her name, throwing his head back and bucking into the beautiful delirium they’d found together.
His hands tightened on her. Part of him expected that she’d push him away again. That the fear he’d seen deep in her eyes would win.
But she surprised him—as she always did.
Instead, she collapsed onto the bed beside him, her legs tangled with his and an arm thrown across his chest.
Her deep, heavy breathing fluttered across his skin. After several minutes it slowed. He thought she’d fallen asleep, but when he moved to get up and dispose of the condom her leg and arm tightened, pinning him in place.
Rolling his head, Ty gazed down at her, getting only her profile and a single green eye that watched him.
“I need a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Her only answer was to ease up on her hold. Ty went to the bathroom, disposed of the condom and then returned, as promised. He paused beside the bed, waiting...for what?
Lifting an arm, she waited, too.
Something tightened in his chest, but Ty ignored it. Instead, he concentrated on the woman welcoming him back to bed.
Her legs tangled with his again and her arm snaked over him. But this time, her fingers played softly over the ink on his skin.
“Don’t hate me when I have to wake you up every two hours because of y
our concussion,” she whispered.
“Princess, haven’t you figured out that I could never hate you?”
12
THE CABIN WAS GORGEOUS, exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d dreamed about getting away from Texas. The air was softer, cooler than home. It didn’t feel like she was trying to breathe in a solid brick of air.
They’d arrived about twenty minutes ago, unloading their luggage and getting Kaia settled in the cabin. But the mountains surrounding them had called her back outside.
Trees towered over her, over the house that was a hell of a lot larger than two people needed. In the distance she could see the jagged outline of the mountains. The sun was just starting to set, splashing soft color across the summer evening.
“It’s beautiful,” Van said, propping a hip against the porch railing and leaning her shoulders into the upright. “I could stay out here all night and just breathe it in.”
Ty stepped up beside her, filling the space. He didn’t actually touch her, but he didn’t really have to. Her body reacted to his nearness anyway, coming alive.
“Who are you trying to kid? I give you thirty minutes before you’re twitching like a junky going through withdrawal. You, Dr. Cantrell, are a workaholic and we both know it,” he said, tweaking her nose.
Van batted his hand away. He wasn’t wrong, although part of her wanted him to be.
She really had no idea how to just do nothing. “Fine. But I have a feeling if I could figure out how to settle anywhere, it would be somewhere like this. It has a...peace that I’ve never felt before.”
Ty turned, his gaze peering out into the distance. They stood there in silence together for a little while, just soaking in the atmosphere. Eventually, they’d need to head back into town to grab some groceries, but for now the practical things could wait.
“You know, this place actually reminds me of Afghanistan.”
Van’s body stiffened. Tension pulled against every cell in her body. She forced herself to relax. To listen.
“What do you mean?”
“The mountains there are starker, not green like these, brown and harsh. But they’re still beautiful, in their own way.”
Hearing him say that surprised her. “Really?”
Ty threw her a quick, wry glance, as if he’d read her mind and understood exactly what she was thinking.
“We might be there to fight a war, but not everyone in the country is. There are men, women and children just trying to live their lives. The country can be harsh, but the people are so resilient.”
The words he screamed when he woke up in her ER came rushing back to her. The people there weren’t the only resilient ones...
“What happened over there?” she asked, her voice soft and careful.
She half expected him to brush her off. To give her some half-assed answer. So she was shocked when he didn’t.
Instead, he turned and leaned against the opposite post so he could look her square on. His expression was stark and more open than she’d seen...probably ever.
Even from the moment she met him as a little boy, Ty Colson had always seemed closed off. He kept secrets. She knew that. And it bothered her, both then and now.
Because even as a little girl, she’d understood the secrets he’d kept were bad. And she’d felt helpless because there wasn’t anything she could do to help.
He’d hidden the truth from everyone, pretending things were okay. She knew what Ty looked like when he lied—cool, calm and in control.
And while he was all of those things, the haunted expression in his gaze told her that he wasn’t hiding. Not now anyway.
“I already told you about the day he died.”
Van shook her head. “No. I don’t mean what happened to Ryan. What happened to you?”
His mouth pulled down at the edges, his words clipped and matter-of-fact. “I watched my best friend get blown up right in front of me.”
Van swallowed, and debated leaving the topic alone. Did she really want to know? Did he really need her digging?
“Do you remember what you yelled when you woke up in the ER after your accident?”
“No.” The single word was harsh and clipped.
“Well, it was clear that you’d been through something awful and were reliving those moments.”
A harsh sound wheezed through his open lips.
Unable to stay away any longer, Van closed the space between them. Her palms rested on his waist and she drew close, staring up at him.
He watched her, impassive. His hands hanging loose by his sides. They stood that way for several moments. He was still. Unnaturally still. His chest barely rose with each breath.
And then he was a blur of motion.
His arms tightened around her body, crushing her against him. His face buried in the crook of her neck, warm lips pressed tight to her skin.
She couldn’t move. But in that moment, she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Van could feel his heartbeat speeding so fast. It thumped painfully against her, anxiety and adrenaline fueling his body’s responses.
“Tell me,” she whispered.
* * *
IF ONLY IT were that easy.
He’d been to therapy, a couple of times actually. And it helped. But not nearly as much as holding Savannah Cantrell in his arms.
When she was there, he finally felt whole.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“We both know that’s a lie, Ty.”
He sighed, because she was right.
Her hands rested on his chest. The scent of her surrounded him, the sweet, spicy character of it overpowering the clear mountain air and filling him up.
He wanted to grab her and crush his mouth to hers, to distract them both, but something in her expression stopped him.
This was real. Right now. This moment. She was asking for a piece of him, a truth that he hadn’t shared with anyone else. Not even Ryan.
The question was, could he give it to her without utterly breaking himself?
And if he didn’t, could there be any hope for something more between them? Did he want that?
Yes. That single word rang through his head, clear and precise.
He wanted Van in his life. Not as his best friend’s little sister. Not as some holdover from a childhood that carried more pain than joy. But as the woman he shared everything with.
But that actually meant he had to share everything.
“When you woke up in the ER, you started fighting against the straps holding you down. Screaming about letting you go. Not hurting you.”
Ty sucked in a harsh breath. It was one thing to decide to open up to her. It was another to actually do it.
He’d locked the memories from that day away so long ago. Kept them hidden deep, because what good would it do to bring them out? No one cared. Not really.
No, that was the little boy inside him, bitter and wounded, coming out. Not the strong, capable man he’d become. The soldier skilled at combat and able to take down anyone who threatened the weak—himself included. He refused to let someone else’s actions, however painful and destructive, color the person he was now.
There were people who cared. Even in his worst moments, Ryan, Van, Nick and Margaret had been there for him. Treating him like he belonged. Their love couldn’t erase the fact that his own mother didn’t give enough of a shit to protect him, but it didn’t need to. Because they cared.
Those memories. Those examples were what had shaped him into the person he was. He’d fought against the fear, the inclination to simply roll himself into a protective little shell and keep everyone away. He wouldn’t let that fear win now.
Not when the potential prize was something beautiful with Van.
T
y clenched his eyes shut and fought, with himself, with the past. He didn’t open them before the words began to spill out.
“That night I ended up in the hospital when I was thirteen...”
He could feel her. The way she leaned into him, her body pressed tight against his. The flutter of her pulse beneath his fingers. He didn’t remember reaching out for her and clasping his fingers along the curve of her throat.
“It was bad.”
“No shit,” she whispered. “I was there, Ty. I saw the damage. Everyone knows you didn’t get those injuries doing some stupid stunt on your bike. For one thing, if that had happened we all know Ryan would have been right beside you in the next hospital bed over.”
A wheeze of laughter broke through the haze of tension wrapped around him. He buried his face into the soft cloud of her hair. “God, I needed that laugh. You always know just what to do or say to shake me out of whatever shit is trying to grab hold.”
Van wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “You keep saying things like that and I’m liable to fall in love with you, soldier.” Her tone and laughter made the words into a joke. But there was an edge of reality that Ty clung to. Because that’s exactly what he wanted.
Rather than spook her by saying that, he carried on with the truth.
“You’re right, though. Ryan called me on the shit story a few hours after I told it, and he only waited that long because he wanted to confront me when we were alone. I stuck to what I’d said. Told him I’d needed to get out of the house for a little bit and clear my head so I took the bike out by myself. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t press.”
Van’s forehead, buried in his sternum, rolled back and forth. “He knew you needed the lie.”
“Yeah.”
A lump formed deep in Ty’s throat. Shit. He missed his friend. Life was not the same without him and never would be again.
Clearing the emotion away, Ty said, “I can’t even remember what started it. Probably because whatever it was wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. But to the asshole my mom was sleeping with, the infraction was worth a nightmare. I didn’t even see the first blow coming.”
Handle Me Page 13