Head Start (Cedar Tree #7)

by Freya Barker

The moment I step down the last step, Kendra’s hunched figure startles and backs up, stumbling into the wall with a thud. “Ohmigod, Neil,” she gasps with one hand covering her mouth and the other clutching her shirt to her chest. “Fudge. You startled me.”

  “It’s okay to say fuck, Kendra,” I point out, just now noticing the pile of bags littering the floor just inside the door.

  Her lips pinched, she glares at me, her hands now propped on her hips. “I can say fuck just fine, thank you. I just prefer to find more creative ways to express myself.”

  Her snarky tone and defiant pose work on my sense of humor and I bark out a laugh. “So noted,” I concur, quickly getting myself under control under Kendra’s disapproving eye. “Where’s your mother?” Kendra appears to be the only one who came in, Elsa notably absent.

  “What are you doing here?” she answers with a question of her own, and I can’t help but smile. “And for your information,” she adds. “Mom’s on her way home.”

  It takes a lot of effort not to throw a fist pump. “What all did you buy?” I swiftly change direction in hopes of distracting her. It works.

  Kendra’s face lights up with a smile before bending down and picking up her treasures.

  “I realized I didn’t have anything to provide a good home for Chaos, so I ended up buying a few necessities. Of course, I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ll get to bring him home—first I have to fill out this package of paperwork—but I’m hopeful.” She continues to chatter as she walks over to the couch and dumps the armload of plastic bags on the couch. I listen with half an ear while picking what looks like a large pillow and a six-pack of my favorite brew off the floor. “Yeah,” Kendra says, watching me walk in. “I would wait a bit before cracking one of those,” she says, pointing at the six-pack dangling from my hand. Right. The crash I heard earlier. “I almost forgot them too. The check out kid caught me in the parking or I would’ve come home without. Damn near stroked out when he put his hand on my shoulder.”

  “Hey! Where is your bandage?” She changes direction as she looks at me with her eyebrows raised. “Your stitches.”

  “They were bothering me. I took ‘em out.”

  She’s beside me in a flash, taking the beer from my hand and examining my palm. “But it hasn’t been a week yet.”

  “I heal fast,” I tell her with a shrug. “It’s fine.” The cut on my hand is healing nicely and the edges have stayed closed. Kendra shakes her head at me but says nothing as she drops my hand and carries the beer to the fridge.

  “What’s the pillow for?” I follow her into the kitchen.

  “That’s the bed for Chaos,” she says, as if that is supposed to explain everything. I must look as confused as I feel, because she rolls her eyes and explains. “Chaos is my dog. Well, technically he’s not my dog yet, but he will be. Weren’t you listening at all?”

  This. This right here is a prime example of being damned if you do and damned if you don’t. There’s no winning. No right answer, and no way out. So I do the only thing that comes to mind when I look at her pretty face. Some of her hair has escaped the elastic of her ponytail and is framing her face, softening it. Her gray eyes are sharp on mine and her mouth is slightly pursed. That’s where my focus is. With one big step, I brush up against her body, wrap one arm around the small of her back, and with the other hand, I tug her head back. Perfect. My mouth fits tightly over hers as I kiss the fight right out of her. The instant my tongue touches hers, her body melts against me and I know I not only escaped the firing squad, I won the whole damn battle.

  -

  “A dog, huh?” I mumble against her lips.

  Her body is tucked underneath mine on the couch where we ended up. My hips are wedged between her thighs and I can feel her heat through the two layers of denim separating us. I try to pull back when I find myself grinding and rutting against her like the young buck she believes me to be, but the strong muscles in the legs she has wrapped around me hold me in place. I want to show her control and reverence, not mindless, hard fucking. Hence my attempt at distraction.

  “He’s so sweet,” she responds immediately, and I have to bite my lip not to smile. “He snuggled up against me the entire time. He’s a bit gangly and looks clumsy, but you should see him run. Just beautiful.” In all her excitement about the dog, she doesn’t even notice when I sit up and pull her with me. Her eyes are sparkling and she uses her hands to help her talk. On impulse, I tug her toward me and give her a hard, closemouthed kiss. It’s fucking amazing to see her eyes glaze over and her focus gone. Powerful fodder for my ego.

  “I have those forms to fill out,” she suddenly announces before she jumps up and starts digging through her purse. “The sooner I get that done, the sooner I can bring him home.”

  Okay, so maybe I didn’t shake her focus entirely, but for a minute there, I bet she didn’t know where she was. Fuck. I barely remembered. That is one potent set of lips.

  “What do you feel like eating?” I ask as I get up and move into the kitchen. I don’t get an answer and when I peek into the dining room, she’s sitting at the table flipping through some document, completely lost to me.

  Smiling at her single-minded concentration, I pull open the fridge to see what can be done about dinner.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kendra

  “Look at me.”

  I have a hard time lifting my eyes. I don’t want to see what I know I will find in his.

  It was inevitable, really. I knew from the instant I found him in my house this afternoon, that this moment was coming. Oh, I’d grabbed on to every excuse that seemed reasonable to evade it, but every time he’d touch me, or kiss me, any resolve I had melted. His controlled restraint, when I could feel his body’s need to burn, was an added aphrodisiac. He toyed with me and I was putty in his hands. He fed me grilled chicken and pineapple smothered in a spicy peanut sauce, and it was so good, I almost had an orgasm on the spot.

  No, I had no doubt we’d end up right here. In my bedroom.

  “You’re thinking too hard, Pup. I can hear the wheels turning over here. It’s simple, all you have to do is trust me enough to look at me.” His voice is gravelly, deep with a veiled need.

  It’s not that I’m unsure of his want for me, his interest in me. It’s that once we take this further, there is no going back. No way back to the casual friendship, the occasional flirts, the delicious fantasies that inevitably followed. And no way to erase the look of recoil when I’m bared before him.

  “Look at me,” he urges, and I slowly lift my head.

  He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, his hands holding my hips as I stand between his legs. All I see in his eyes is faint amusement and heat ... so much heat. His hand reaches up and with only his index finger, he strokes my cheek, follows the contour of my lips and skims along my jaw. My body responds to that simple touch with the lightest of shivers. With his eyes boring into mine and a little smile tugging at his mouth, he drags his finger down my neck, over the flushed skin of my upper chest and across the smooth tops of my breasts.

  “Lift your arms,” he says softly and I don’t think, I simply raise my arms and allow him to remove my tank top. His eyes are like an anchor, never losing their connection with mine. He carelessly tosses it aside, his finger instantly back where it left off. My breath hitches when the calloused pad of his finger reaches my nipple, the slight abrasion sending tingles over my sensitized skin. When he leans forward and wraps his lips around the tight bud, I’m the one to break eye contact when my head falls back and my mouth opens at the sensation. Warm, wet heat, pulling all the way down to my core. The low vibration against my skin as he moans around my flesh. I’m mesmerized, seduced and virtually blind to all but the impression he leaves on my body. His hands, fingers wide, spread across my back, pressing me tight to the suction of his mouth. I don’t notice one hand sliding around to my front, molding my breast until his mouth suddenly releases my nipple and fingers start tracing the raised, puckered ski
n underneath.

  I stop breathing.

  I can sense him leaning back, examining the deep divots left behind by the skin necrosis that resulted from my surgery many years ago. Behind my closed eyes, every last insecurity freshly surges in my head, making it impossible to take a breath. I knew once I gave myself to him, Neil would have the power to break me. No one else has, because no one really mattered. Not until him.

  “Breathe,” his breath strokes over my skin, just before his lips touch. The small kisses he presses under my breast cause my breath to release in a sob. In an instant, I’m on my back in the bed, Neil hovering over me, his forehead resting on mine and our noses touching. “Listen,” he whispers, his eyes staring into my blurred ones. “I’ve never tasted skin more beautiful than yours. Or softer. Even without ever touching or tasting it before, I knew the effect it would have on me. Just like I knew all of you would be as magnificent as what little you allowed me to see before now. There are no parts to you, there’s only all of you.”

  There is no room to process his words, because the moment he stops talking, his body shows me in the clearest language. Skimming, stroking, brushing, licking, biting: each touch setting me further on fire.

  “Neil...please,” I plead when I feel his weight leave me. A rustle of fabric and the distinct crinkle of a condom wrapper registers faintly, before the brush of his clothes against my body is replaced with the heat of his skin. On instinct, my legs open to make room for his hips. Yes. A few deceptively lazy strokes of his long, deft fingers along my crease before they slip between my folds and into the wetness gathered there. “Fuck me,” I manage, as my hips start moving against the fierce rhythm he’s building. “Please...I need your cock.”

  “You’ll get my fingers, you’ll get my mouth, and when I’ve heard you scream my name, you’ll get my cock. Because Pup, once I slide inside you, I’ll be fucking you hard.”

  The sound of his coarse voice wrapped around those words has me writhing against his hand, reaching for the release building inside. Before I can even protest the loss of his fingers, his lips and agile tongue replace them, sending me soaring again. One arm braced over my hips to hold me in place, his mouth eats at me like a starving man. When I’m teetering on the edge, he slows his pace, keeping the climax just out of my reach.

  “Let me come. Please, Neil, I need...”

  In one swift move, his body is over mine, our lips almost touching. “Taste yourself on me,” he growls before claiming my mouth, the tang of my arousal mixed with Neil is heady. I can feel the crown of his cock probing at my opening, slick with my juices.

  Neil’s head comes up, his eyes focused on mine and his hand slides down to my leg, lifting it in the crook of his elbow. “I can’t hold back,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.

  “Then don’t,” I whisper, followed by a deep groan as his long, hard length fills me. So good.

  Our bodies become a blur; a growling, clawing, furious frenzy of passion. I forget where I end and he begins. It doesn’t take long for me to reach that precipice again, trembling briefly on the edge before falling into a blinding orgasm with his name on my lips. My body is still convulsing around him when he lifts my other leg, spreads me wide and with deep thrusts, hammers his release inside me on a groan.

  “Pure beauty.” His lips whisper against my skin as his body collapses on me.

  Neil

  Long after Kendra’s warm, soft and sated body stills with sleep, I simply hold her. My eyes are fixed on the ceiling, determined not to close despite the deep level of relaxation my body has reached. There’s a reason I prefer sleeping alone. But tonight, still savoring the feel and the scent of her body, I don’t want to leave her side. Instead, I hold her and think about the case.

  Gus asked me to pull together what we have so far and join him for a full task force meeting with both the FBI and local law enforcement in Durango tomorrow morning. I’m pretty organized, but could stand to have a quick look over the file.

  A little sigh from her lips brushes against my skin. Fuck, how she twists me up. You’d think after at least a year’s worth of anticipation, the actual sex might pale in comparison. Not likely. It was as close to perfect as one might ever expect to come. More would’ve made it perfect; I could’ve easily spent the entire night losing myself in her, but she drifted to sleep so peacefully, I didn’t have the heart to wake her. I still don’t. I’ve worked too hard to prove to her I’m not a wild stud, looking just to sow his oats. I’m not about to wake her so I can have another go at her now.

  With that thought, I carefully untangle myself from her limbs. She’s like an octopus, twisted around my body. When I lift her arm away from my chest, where she was resting it, she twitches and murmurs in her sleep. I tuck my pillow to her front, and she immediately wraps herself around it, making me smile. One last look over my shoulder at the bed, making sure she’s still sleeping, before I leave the room.

  I spend some time working on the file, but at some point my eyes get so heavy, I can barely see the computer screen. Shutting everything down, I head upstairs. The twin bed in the spare room is cold and unwelcoming, but still so much better than some of the conditions I’ve slept under. It’s not a wonder that shortly after my head hits the pillow, I finally allow the draw of sleep to take me.

  -

  When I wake up to the dim light of morning, on the floor, with my knees curled up to my chest, I’m glad I’m alone. Son-of-a-bitch. That was a doozy. Not my worst, I’d woken up to the remnants of a motel room that time, with Gus holding me down to prevent me from doing more damage to the room and to myself. His face was bloodied, and I’d needed stitches after that one. My body had seen its fair share of those. That’s why I hardly ever go back to a clinic to get them removed. It would just be a waste of time. It’s just as easy to do it myself.

  Still lying on my side, I quickly check my hands and face for any bleeding. I’m clean. Relieved I roll on my back, and my eyes wander to the door, where a sleep-tousled Kendra is quietly leaning against the doorframe. Her arms are crossed under her breasts, which are regrettably covered with the shirt I was wearing yesterday. She must’ve put it on just now. Her head is slightly tilted to the side, but her soft gray eyes are warm on me.

  “Hey,” I croak out, my throat dry from sleep.

  “Comfy?”

  “Hmmm. Not really.” I push myself up off the floor at the same time as Kendra walks in the room. When I sit down on the side of the bed and rub the sleep from my face, she sits down beside me.

  “How often do you get them?” she asks, putting a cool hand in the middle of my sweaty back. I lift my head from my hands and turn my head to the side so I can see her. There’s only warm concern in her eyes. No judgement, no pity. No fear.

  My normal reaction would be to deny, to evade. Other than Gus, no one knows about my crazy nightmares. Or should I say, the nightmares that make me crazy. But this is Kendra, and she’s just seen the aftermath of one. Not as bad as it can get, but still. Before I can make the conscious decision, my mouth is already answering her. Honestly.

  “As many as three times a week, but usually maybe once a month. It depends.” My voice sounds hoarse. “It can get bad.” At that, those expressive eyebrows of hers lift back up.

  “You mean to say this wasn’t bad? You were yelling so hard, I thought I heard the windows rattle in their frames.”

  “I was? Christ, I’m sorry.” That explains my rough throat. My eyes do another scan of the room to make sure other than the bedding, nothing is out of place.

  “That the reason you snuck out of bed in the middle of the night?” she asks calmly, and I just nod my response. “You’re afraid you’ll hurt me.” It’s not so much a question as it is a conclusion. One she has come to by herself without having me explain. Or at least try. “Do you know what triggers them? Is it anything I did?” The hint of uncertainty in her voice kills me. This has nothing to do with her.

  I twist my torso, grab her by the waist and pull
her on my lap. “Not at all.” Her eyes slide away to the side, but I take hold of her chin and lift her face back to mine. “You did nothing,” I tell her more firmly. “Sometimes...stress or excitement or any other kind of strong emotion can be a trigger.” This time it’s me turning away, but Kendra’s hand on my cheek draws my eyes back.

  “Okay,” she simply says, kissing my lips softly as she gets up and walks to the door.

  “Wait. That’s it?” I’m confused. Or maybe shocked is a better word. I thought she’d have a million and one questions, would want to push the issue, but instead she just says okay.

  “Look,” she says turning back, one hand leaning on the doorpost. “I’m a smart girl. You’re ex-military, you’ve been stationed overseas. You’ve seen and done things. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is no longer a dirty word, Neil. Not something to hang your head in shame over. Certainly not with me. And you don’t need me to prod and pry, I’m sure you’ve had enough of that. So yeah, that’s it—okay. Sure, I hope to be able to wake up, still in your arms, at some point. Especially after what you gave me last night. The way you reminded me it’s about the whole and not the parts, the way you didn’t pry and just simply accepted my scars. When you’re ready, I’d like to show you I feel the same.”

  I’m struck silent. I don’t quite know how to respond to that.

  “Go have a shower. I’m gonna put some breakfast on.” With a wink she’s gone.

  A bit numb, I sit for a few minutes trying to process her words, until I hear sounds of pots and pans from the kitchen. Then I get up and head for the shower, feeling lighter than I did yesterday.

  Kendra

  It wasn’t hard to figure out.

  When he left the bed in the middle of the night, I thought about going after him, but I fell back asleep before I had my mind made up. The cries from the spare bedroom this morning had me shooting up straight in my bed. It sounded like an animal in pain. I wasn’t sure what I was going to find when I pushed the door open but the sight of that big, healthy man curled up in a ball on the floor was enough to stop me in my tracks. I wasn’t sure how happy he would be if I saw him in this state. I almost backed out of the room when I noticed him waking, but something kept me rooted in the spot. Those normally penetrating eyes looked dull with pain when they found me, and it almost felt like I was invading.