In the Midnight Hour

by Deborah Cooke

  “It’s not a secret.” He felt defensive, though, and exposed. Surprised.

  “Just one of those things you don’t tell anybody. Do your partners know you served?”

  “I don’t know. I never told them I did.”

  “Why not? Aren’t you proud of it?”

  Proud didn’t begin to describe how Damon felt of his years of active service. He gave her a hostile look. “It’s over and it has nothing to do with F5.”

  “But it has a lot to do with you, and why you are the way you are,” she said. She unlocked the security door. “And really, if you want it to be that big of a secret, you should slouch.”

  He was left staring after Haley as she walked into the building. He admired the bounce in her step and the confidence in her claim—and her conviction that he’d follow right behind. She could have led him just about anywhere and Damon would have followed. That was a warning and he took note of it. There could never be more between them than there was now, so this had to really be the last time with Haley.

  Damon would make it count.

  He’d give her a night to remember.

  * * *

  Damon didn’t say anything more until they were inside Haley’s apartment. He didn’t even speak then and she wondered if she’d really shaken him by making one good guess. She turned on the light and was closing the blinds when she heard his coat drop to the chair.

  She glanced over her shoulder to find him close behind her, intent hot in his eyes. He caught her in his arms and spun her around, his grip gentle but resolute, then bent to kiss her.

  And the tom jumped him from behind.

  She’d actually forgotten about the cat, particularly as he hadn’t been in sight when they entered the apartment. He moved quickly, lunging out the shadows, and she was amazed by how high he could leap. He was on Damon’s shoulders, digging his claws into the skin, teeth bared as he hissed.

  “What the...?” Damon cried as the cat clawed his ear. He seized the cat by the scruff of his neck and tossed him to the floor. The tom landed on his feet, then hunkered down and hissed. There was venom in that sound and his tail lashed.

  Well. She had a protector. Apparently, fish was the way to the tom’s heart.

  “New roommate,” she said lightly as the pair glared at each other, each poised to thrash the other. “He’s still learning his manners.”

  “I’ll say.” Damon eyed the cat with suspicion.

  The cat glared at Damon with even more.

  “It should be illegal for there to be so much testosterone in the air,” she said and Damon flicked a glance at her.

  “Does it attack everyone?”

  “Him, not it. I don’t know. I’ve only had him since Thursday. He doesn’t even have a name yet.”

  “Ninja,” Damon said through his teeth.

  Haley stifled the urge to laugh. “Maybe.” She bent and, for the first time, the tom came to her, winding around her ankles, then sitting on her foot. He continued to glare at Damon, his tail flicking and his ears folded back.

  “You can’t have chosen him for his looks.”

  “I think he’s beautiful. Look at how sleek and black he is. Like a little panther.”

  Damon snorted. “He looks pretty beat up.”

  The cat hissed at him.

  “They said he was in a fight and they had to patch him up. I think it’s his attitude that kept him from being adopted for so long.”

  “He’s not exactly a charmer.”

  “He defended me.”

  “From me.” Damon shook his head and exhaled. “Of course, his attitude wouldn’t stop you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That you like to bring home strays.”

  Haley chose not to be insulted. “There’s nothing wrong with helping others.” She reached down and rubbed the cat’s ear and he actually purred a little. “I thought he needed somebody.”

  “And so you stepped up to be that person.” Damon frowned. “What about what you want, Haley? What about what you need, as opposed to what everyone else needs from you?”

  “Oh, that’s why I brought you home,” she said. “You were going to give me an orgasm. I could use that.”

  Damon gave her a look that reminded her so perfectly of the tom’s expression at the shelter that she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I thought he reminded me of you. I promise I won’t call him Damon, though.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, come on. You both have attitude. You’re both grumpy and uncooperative. You’re both spoiling for a fight.” Her voice faltered but she continued anyway. “And you’re both beautiful, powerful, honorable males.”

  Damon met her gaze. “Beautiful?”

  Haley nodded, her mouth dry. “Gorgeous.”

  He smiled and closed the distance between them, looking like a predator on the hunt. She was more than ready to be his prey. He cupped her face in his hands and drew her to her toes, his gaze searching hers. “No one’s called me that before.”

  “Maybe you need more perceptive friends.”

  His smile was as quick and seductive as ever, then he bent and touched his lips to hers. The cat yowled, but Haley ignore him. She loved that Damon was asking permission, though her answer wasn’t in any doubt. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him, welcoming him, inviting him, surrendering to him.

  He made a little growl in the back of his throat, then slanted his mouth over hers. It was a masterful and hungry kiss, a conquering kiss, a kiss that left no doubt about his intentions for the foreseeable future. It was a kiss that ensured Haley’s short-term goals were exactly the same as his. It set her blood on fire and made her panties wet.

  The cat slipped away and she heard him land on the end of the kitchen counter. Haley didn’t care where he went.

  Damon’s hands were on her, nudging her coat and her sweater aside, working beneath her clothes to touch her skin. She couldn’t get naked fast enough and found her own hands diving beneath his shirt, pushing it up to his shoulders, unfastening his jeans. It was a fever with Damon, a need to get as close as possible as soon as possible. She’d never felt such urgency with anyone else, and he seemed to feel it as well. He groaned when her bare breasts touched his chest, then deepened his kiss. They shed clothes in every direction, then he abruptly broke their kiss and reached to pull out the bed. Haley took the opportunity to remove the rest of her clothes and steal a good long look of him naked.

  Then he turned and smiled at her, beckoning with a single finger. Haley could see that he was huge and hard. “How do you like it best?” he murmured against her throat, his hands sliding over her skin.

  “I want to mix it up for 2018. Out with the old and in with the new.”

  His eyes gleamed. “So, you’ve been on top, and I’ve been on top.” His finger eased between her thighs and she gasped when he caressed her. “From behind? Against the wall again? Caveman style?” His fingers slid inside her, his thumb doing wicked things to her clitoris, Haley found herself squirming on his hand. “Should I eat you first? Tell me what you want, Haley.”

  She shook her head, incoherent from his expert touch.

  He smiled. “You have to tell me. You have to say it out loud or there’s no reward.”

  “You can’t make the rules!”

  “Yes, I can. I’m making one now. Because here’s something I’ve noticed about you. You don’t like to ask for anything for yourself. You don’t like to wish for anything out loud. So, you’re going to demand what you want from me, or you’ll go without.”

  Haley moaned as he pinched her and pulled his head down for a kiss. His tongue teased hers and he bent her back over the bed, his heat pressed against her, his hand making her as crazy as his mouth did. Then he broke the kiss and held her gaze. She was panting, and had already dug her nails into his shoulders.

  “What’ll it be, Haley?”

  “You’re not a gigolo,” she managed to say.<
br />
  He chuckled. “No, but I want to please you. I’ll do anything to you that you want.” She met his gaze and her heart leaped at the intensity in his eyes. “I’ll make your most wicked dream come true, but you have to tell me what it is.”

  “I don’t have wicked dreams.”

  “Everybody does.”

  “What’s your wicked dream?”

  “You, biting my shoulder to keep yourself from screaming as you come, with me buried inside you.” He lifted a brow as she blushed. “But we did that already.”

  “That can’t be your fantasy.”

  “The memory has kept me warm on more than one night.” He bent to suckle her nipple, grazing it with his teeth and coaxing it to a tight peak. He flicked his tongue across it, sending shivers through her body. “Name your poison, Haley.”

  “From behind,” she admitted, blushing as she did. “Over a chair, caveman style. I’ve always wondered.”

  Damon grinned, apparently surprised by her choice. Then he picked her up and cast her over his shoulder. He moved the one big armchair she possessed so that the front of it was against the wall, then spun her around and placed her on her feet behind it. Haley realized it couldn’t move. He was right behind her, pressed against her from hip to knee, one arm locked around her waist and his feet bracketing hers. He cupped her jaw with his other hand, tipping her face back for a kiss, and his erection pressed against her butt. “Like this?”

  “Not quite. I thought you’d be inside,” she said, just to surprise him.

  He lifted her up, then stepped between her knees. “I’m too tall for it to work when you’re on your toes.” He lifted her from the floor and Haley wrapped her legs around his before he could suggest it. She saw the flash of his smile before he eased inside her. She arched her back to welcome him, loving how he held her before himself.

  When he was buried inside her, he bent and kissed her throat at the shoulder. “Always liked enterprising women,” he murmured against her skin and Haley laughed. His arm tightened around her then and he began to move, his other hand returning to torment her clitoris. “Spread yourself wider,” he whispered in her ear, then kissed it. “Don’t hold anything back.”

  Haley didn’t want to hold back. “I want to see us,” she managed to whisper.

  “Is there a mirror?”

  “Inside the closet door.”

  He reached and opened the closet door without changing his stance, angling it until Haley could see them perfectly. She looked so pale against him, her skin almost white compared to the deep golden tan of his. His hair and eyes were so dark in contrast to her own, and that huge tattoo looked dangerous. He was a perfect male animal—a caveman who had abducted her and was taking what he wanted from her. His hand covered her breast, cupping it and squeezing it; his arm looked strong around her waist; when his other hand moved between her thighs, it was mesmerizing to watch, especially as she felt his strong fingers coaxing her pleasure.

  “But I’ll scream,” she whispered, feeling the tide rise inside her. She struggled in his grip but there was no escape. He held her captive, his embrace resolute but gentle. Haley stole a glimpse of him, then wriggled even as his fingers dove inside her with increasing speed. He was flicking his fingertips across her clitoris, kissing her ear, moving inside her, driving her crazy in a thousand ways.

  “I can’t bite your shoulder,” she whispered as the tremor started deep inside her. “I won’t be able to come, knowing that everyone will hear.”

  “I’m not going to let you go until you orgasm,” he whispered in her ear and she shivered in delight. “I command you to come.”

  “I can’t. Damon, I can’t!”

  “You’re going to.”

  “No,” Haley began to protest, knowing that she was on the cusp but unable to let go. Then Damon changed his grip, surging inside her as he moved to lock one hand over her mouth. His other hand swept down long enough for him to flick a fingertip across her clitoris and Haley stole a glance at their reflection. The combination was enough to send her over the edge and she came in a thunderous rush, biting into his palm as her orgasm went on and on and on.

  She heard Damon swear under his breath then he tensed behind her, driving deeper inside and holding her tighter as he found his own release.

  She was breathing hard when he lifted his hand away and turned her face so he could kiss her sweetly. She could feel his heart pounding against her back and she was glad that she wasn’t the only one so affected.

  “Shower,” he said when he broke their kiss and she smiled at the lazy satisfaction in his tone.

  “Don’t think you can be bossy all the time.”

  “You seemed to like it just fine,” he muttered, easing out of her, then lifting her easily in his arms. His eyes glinted as he looked down at her. “How was that?”

  “Great,” Haley admitted.

  “And I’ve only just begun,” he said as he set her down in the bathroom. “Go on. Tell me another one of your fantasies.”

  “So you can make it come true?”

  “Pretty much. Tonight, I aim to please.”

  She had a funny feeling then about the finality of his tone.

  Would this be the last time they were together?

  Was it his plan to leave her with a memory before he disappeared from her life?

  Chapter Eight

  Damon fell asleep.

  He never fell asleep anywhere except in his own bed with the door locked and his routines completed. He was never lax about discipline and he never napped in other locations.

  But he fell asleep in Haley’s bed. He was aware of the cat watching him, sitting on the end of the kitchen counter with his tail lashing. Damon thought he’d just close his eyes for a moment, just to catch his breath after another amazing orgasm.

  And then he was back in Afghanistan, in that dusty village.

  He was watching the grenade roll toward them in slow motion, knowing the kid had compromised them, knowing that his adherence to the rules was going to cost them big. It seemed he had a thousand years to realize all the repercussions of this small projectile, yet he moved so slowly. His body wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t get himself between Foster and the grenade, even though he struggled to throw himself forward.

  And the sound. The sound filled his ears to bursting. The sound was louder than anything he’d ever heard before, ripping through him, destroying, annihilating, shredding...until Buchanan moaned.

  Foster didn’t move again.

  Damon awakened with a jolt, sitting up in the bed and wondering where the hell he was. He was panting and there was sweat trickling down his back, panic making his heart race. He wanted to run, to hide, to get the hell out.

  He was on his feet, grabbing his jeans by the time Haley awakened and sat up.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said, hearing the terror in his voice. He could have hurt her. He could have lashed out, unaware of what he was doing. He’d breached his own protocol and she could have paid the price.

  He had to go home, where it was safe.

  Where the world was safe from him.

  He tugged on his clothes, well aware that Haley was watching him without getting out of bed. She probably was horrified. She probably thought there was something wrong with him.

  There was.

  “You didn’t just serve,” she said with that quiet conviction he found so unnerving. “You have PTSD.”

  And just like that, the secret Damon struggled to hide was out in the open. He felt exposed and vulnerable, which didn’t exactly help in his current situation.

  He had to get out.

  Immediately.

  * * *

  Damon was ex-military, and he had PTSD. Haley felt stupid for not seeing the truth sooner, even though that was hardly her area of expertise.

  She just believed she should understand everyone’s issues.

  And preferably fix them.

  She saw the panic in Damon’s eyes when she made her guess and knew e
nough about the condition that she understood he’d want to flee.

  Nightmares, flashbacks or bad dreams.

  Heightened fight-or-flight response.

  Emotional detachment.

  The list of symptoms unfurled in her mind and she easily identified the ones she’d noticed in his behavior.

  “It’s not your concern,” he snapped, grabbing his T-shirt.

  Haley moved quickly. She was on her feet and leaning against the door by the time Damon turned. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but she saw in his eyes that he wasn’t as confident in that. “It is my concern, because you’re here in my apartment.”

  “That won’t happen again.”

  “It might not. What is going to happen is that we’re going to talk about this.”

  “Not on your life.”

  “It’s not my life that’s at stake,” Haley replied calmly. “It’s yours.”

  He grimaced and looked away, one hand tightening into a fist. “You don’t understand.”

  “Not completely, no. That doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

  “It does!” His eyes flashed.

  “Didn’t you have treatment?”

  “It was a long time ago.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “I have a system. I have a routine. They taught me that and it works.”

  “Until you’re stressed,” Haley guessed. “Then the symptoms get worse again.”

  “I have a system,” he said, grinding out the words. If sheer willpower could heal him, it would have done so already. Haley was in awe of his discipline. “I’m not going to talk about this. I’m going to get through it.”

  “You need to talk about it, if not to me then to one of your partners, or a therapist. That’s the only way you will get through it.”

  “You don’t know what’s best for me,” he said with hostility that she knew wasn’t really directed at her. “You can’t fix me, Haley.”

  “No, you’d have to fix yourself, and that means asking for help. I’m going to guess that you don’t like asking for help.”

  “I don’t need help.”