Captor Mine (Base Branch Series Book 13)

by Megan Mitcham

  She smacked his other cheek. “Come on.”

  “I’m trying, Doc. I’m trying.”

  Her laugh filled the hallway and then the living area as they went.

  “What’s so important you’d skip your run and catch me red-handed? I need to know if I should expect interruptions like that more often. I might have to change my workout schedule.”

  “I’m serious about the working out,” she warned while carting him to the back door and out onto the porch.

  “Me too. Have been since junior high.”

  “It shows,” she muttered. At least he thought that was what she said. Before he asked for clarification, Kat dipped from his side. She stretched her arms wide and spun in a slow circle, gesturing to the surroundings he’d avoided for as long as he could manage.

  Royal blue water, fresh air, and a small sandy beach beckoned. Sun poured onto his face. Five segments of stairs separated by small landings taunted.

  “Close your eyes.” Kat flailed her hands in front of him. A bright smile lit all the way to her blue gaze. It eased the pain in his chest and reinvigorated his tired muscles. He didn’t want to lose sight of it. “Now.”

  Hunter tightened his core and focused his efforts on balancing his new body. Slowly, when he was sure he wouldn’t end up on his ass, he closed his eyes. Kat’s footfalls scrambled down the steps, stalled at the first landing, and then thundered back in his direction.

  When she stopped in front of him, her rapid breaths grazed his pecs. Saliva pooled in his mouth with the need to touch her. The desire had always been there, but it grew into something new. Need matched the feeling. Like if he didn’t, his fingertips would go on strike. Like if he didn’t feel her skin, his limbs would shrivel into raisin arms.

  “Here.” Her hand grabbed the back of his left wrist. The soft pads of her fingers trailed the scar around it and then into the well of his palm.

  The contact made him dizzy with lust. No, not lust. He could always sate his lust with a quick fuck. This he imagined would take all night and into the morning. He wanted to take his time, to feel her skin, learn her curves and swells, and coax her to orgasm again and again.

  Her palm met his too briefly, and then a cold, hard something took its place. His brain calculated the item to be wood of some sort.

  “Okay. Open them.” The excitement in her voice translated into a small smile that hiked his lips.

  He wanted to look at her exquisite smile, but the item she’d placed in his hand took precedence. It forced his jaw open and his eyes wide.

  “It’s only temporary, and I think I measured pretty closely, considering I had no tape measure.”

  Hunter stared at the crutch cut from a branch that’d grown at the perfect angle to accommodate a shoulder and hand hold. Two sides of the top limb had been sheared, as well as the hand hold, and the bottom of the homemade device.

  “If it’s not, I can cut it down to size. I erred on the tall side to be safe.”

  Holy shit. This woman was more than amazing. She’d whittled him a fucking crutch. Most women would go out of their way to give him a blow job but couldn’t be concerned enough about him—as a human—to ask if he wanted a drink when they grabbed one for themselves. The gesture nearly buckled his good leg.

  “If it hurts you, I can look for another branch.” She shifted from one foot to the other and shoved her hands into the pockets of shorts that hugged her slender curves. “It took a week to find that one. But if it doesn’t work, I’ll start looking after lunch.”

  Hunter swallowed.

  “If you’re not ready for—”

  “Doc?”

  “Yeah?” She pulled her hands from her pockets and crossed her arms over her chest. They boosted the swell of her cotton covered breasts, shorting his brain for a second.

  “Short of you turning up in the chamber and setting me free, it’s the best surprise anyone has ever given me.”

  A smile bloomed on her face. Her arms slipped from their knot, and one hand covered her grin.

  “Thanks, Doc.” He wedged the crutch under his arm.

  “Call me Kat, please.”

  When he arched a brow in question, her gaze hit the boards beneath their feet. “What is it?”

  Her pink cheeks darkened a shade or five. She dug her hand into her pockets again; only this time she used the back ones. Palms to buttocks style thrust her breasts toward his face. If he was a rosary saying man, he’d drop to his knee here and now to keep from ravaging her. Too bad for them both, he had no idea what the string of beads meant other than, “Please Lord, get me out of this shitstorm.”

  “We’ve kissed, Hunter, so I can’t be your doctor.”

  “I thought you said I couldn’t kiss you anymore.”

  “I did.”

  “But now you’re saying you’re not my doctor because we kissed.”

  “I am.”

  “Which leads me to believe that if you’re not my doctor, I can kiss you.”

  Kat flapped her hands as she tended to do when she got frustrated. “Walk to the edge of the porch, please.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know what to do with you. Literally. Figuratively. I just don’t know.” She screamed at the sky and shook her fists. “You want me to trust you, kiss you, and I don’t know who to trust. The people you’re supposed to be able to rely on most in life turned out to be some of the most horrible on Earth. Now I can’t trust myself, much less you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Seriously?” She stood statue still and not even breathing from what he could tell.

  Her whisper spoke of mistrust. Wasn’t that what all this boiled down to?

  “It’s been my life experience you can’t trust anyone.”

  “It has?”

  “Parents are human. Humans are pieces of shit. The degree varies from person to person, but just because they’re your blood doesn’t mean they’ll treat you worth a damn.”

  A pile of time passed in silence. Kat shook her head.

  “My father…” Then she stopped. She huffed a breath and motioned him forward. “If you’ve been working out, you can do the stairs. One flight at least.”

  “Stubborn woman. Talk to me.”

  “Stubborn man. Walk to me.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Very professional.”

  “I don’t have to be. You’re not my patient.”

  “Remember you said that.”

  She spun around, giving him her back, and drew two deep breaths before turning back. “Walk. One step at a time.”

  There was a way for them to both get what they wanted. He simply had to strike the balance. “One step for one answer,” he bartered. “I’m walking. You’re talking.”

  “No.”

  “Fine. One step for one kiss.” He could live with that.

  “No. I don’t want to discuss any of it.”

  “You need to.” If she didn’t vent some of these demons, they’d consume her from the inside out. Personal experience was a fucker.

  “No, I don’t. I’m fine.” Damn fine…to look at. Her fissures grew deeper by the day.

  “Then thanks for the crutch, Doc, but I have sit-ups to do.” He tapped his surprise and pivoted toward the house.

  “You really know how to get under my skin, don’t you?”

  “It’s part of my job.” Right now, he didn’t have a job. He’d never have the job he had before his world came tumbling down. “Was,” he corrected.

  “I have a different proposition for you.” Kat braced her hands on her hips as though she’d conquered a species. “You ask one question. I answer. You take a step, I ask a question, and then you answer.”

  “Hardly seems fair. I’m answering and stepping. Shouldn’t there be a kiss added in somewhere?”

  “Take it or leave it.” She smirked.

  He had her right where he wanted her, thinking she was in control. “I’ve always liked an uneven match.”

  Kat stepped down
backward. If Hunter tried it, he’d fall on his rump. Hell, he didn’t know if he could do it facing forward, but no time like the present to find out. “What’s your favorite childhood memory?”

  Her lips pursed while she searched her database for the answer. She absentmindedly dipped her shoulders side to side. “It’s interesting really. My best memories intertwine with the worst.”

  Hunter nodded. He knew exactly what the hell she was talking about.

  “The anticipation of my father’s visits powered me through the long weeks of tutoring while the reality never grazed the fantasy.”

  “Which was?”

  “That he’d really see me.”

  “That’s why you pour so much care into your patients?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. “Maybe I do it to atone for the sins of my family.”

  “Did you know, before?” He knew he was pushing it, but if he could keep her talking, he’d get information, and he might not fall on his face in front of her.

  “I should have.” Kat stepped to the side. “Now put your right hand on the railing and give me a step. I’m here if you need me.”

  Hunter tested the tensile strength of the thick crutch. In no culture was he considered light fare. It held most of his weight without creaking or shattering as his grip tightened on the smoothed branch. He shifted all his weight onto the twig, prayed it’d hold, and stepped down with his right leg. His only leg. The press of his foot to the ground, the actual art of stepping, instead of hopping, stole his breath. He wheeled the crutch around and stood stunned to have moved his big ass without direct reliance on another person.

  “That was wonderful,” she practically cheered.

  “Considering I used to walk everywhere without a single round of applause, it’s not that great of a feat.”

  Her gaze narrowed.

  “Fine.” He adjusted the waistband of his shorts. “It was pretty damn nice.”

  She rewarded him with a big flash of her pearly whites. Then her expression turned serious. “What’s your favorite memory from childhood?”

  He should’ve expected the question, but it sideswiped him just as waking up without a leg had. Time to dig deep. Leaving that hellhole had been amazing, but he’d been nearly a man…in his mind anyway. Then it came in a flash. “Playing hide and seek in an abandoned house next to one I lived in.”

  “Who’d you play with?”

  It was her second question. He thought about not answering, but turnabout was fair play. “There were anywhere from five to twelve kids in the home at any given time. I wasn’t picky, though I especially liked playing with the older kids. They’d get so pissed when they couldn’t find me.”

  “I bet they did. You have a way of working people up.”

  “Are you worked up, Kat?”

  He took the next step with more confidence and no prompting from Doc.

  Little nipples pressed against the front of her fitted T-shirt, giving him the answer he wanted. “You don’t have to answer that.”

  “Why not?”

  He stepped down again, closing in on her. With the damn stick, he felt more on a level playing field than he had since waking from his coma. “Because your body answered for you.”

  Kat placed a hand over her throat.

  “Nope, that’s not the spot.” He stepped again, and she scrambled back.

  “Wait. You’re messing up the process.”

  “I thought I was moving it along.” Hunter stepped again. This time his ribs tweaked, stealing his momentary reprieve from bodily pain. He breathed through it, though, without revealing anything but his determination to Kat.

  “Wait.” She thrust out both hands. “What happened to your father?”

  Well, that stopped him cold, but it didn’t take him long to recover. “I never knew him. Don’t expect my mother did either.”

  Her gaze dropped to his chest. It glazed over as if she were far away for a moment.

  “Are you close to your brother?”

  She blinked and focused on him. A look of bewilderment crinkled her nose and mouth as though it were an odd question. “No. We didn’t grow up in the same house.” Her shoulders bobbed. “I lived in Italy. He lived in Sweden. He’s technically my half-brother. I didn’t know about him until I was eight. My father brought him to the house where I lived during one of his visits. That was the same trip that Trey broke his arm.”

  “One of his visits? Your dad didn’t live with you?” Hunter doubted the kid broke his arm. The sick fucker father of his probably broke it for him.

  “That’s three questions.” She put a hand on the railing and cocked her leg out. The stance melted his mind. “Do we need to go over the rules of this game again?”

  “You broke them first.” He stepped down two, forcing her back.

  Kat’s palm flattened against his chest. “Take your time.”

  “I can do that, Doc.” His gaze dropped to her hand. The contrast of their skin spiked his temperature. “All day. All night. As slow as you want it.”

  “How many women have you been with?”

  “Uhhh.” Hunter choked on his tongue. No one had ever asked him that. It was the don’t ask question of relationships long and short, and she stomped all over the tradition.

  “Ballpark.” She folded her arms, stealing the magic of her touch, and then offered a devilish smirk.

  “How many have you been with?”

  “Three.”

  Christ. He’d been with three women before he’d entered high school. Not the wisest move. But he’d had a free supply of condoms from the health department, a libido unmatched to most, and women—not girls—willing.

  “Serious relationships?”

  “No, not really. It was more a mixture of hormones, curiosity, and rebellion.”

  “Kat, the rebel.” He liked the images that thought conjured.

  “So?” she prodded.

  “Isn’t it my turn to step or ask or something?”

  “Now you’re worried about the rules of the game.”

  It was clear no rules existed where Kat was concerned. He’d already spent more time with her than any other woman in his life. Hell, he hadn’t even slept with her. No, take that back. He’d slept with her. Another rule shattered. He just hadn’t been inside her.

  “Kat, look.”

  “Looking.” She hiked her brows and grinned.

  “Christ,” he groaned. “More than ten and less than…seventy.” Had he not worked on a mission in remote parts of the world so often, that number would’ve been higher.

  Kat opened her mouth to speak, but he couldn’t handle her judgment. When the fuck had he ever cared about that? “Before you give me the hazardous to your health speech, you should know I always used protection and got checked before every mission. Routine. Can’t jeopardize my life or my brothers.”

  “Not through STDs, but bullets and bombs are fine? I don’t get you military types.”

  His ribs and head throbbed. He hadn’t walked or thought this much in a while. Military he could explain a shit ton easier than his sex life. That thing was riddled with

  some deep-seated shit. The military. His honor and duty. Now that got his chest tingling and his blood pumping more than most women. It was his life’s purpose.

  “It starts as a way out for a lot. For a few, it’s a lofty but untenable notion of patriotism. For me, it was both. Those notions endure through basic and your first posts unless you’re a pussy of the highest degree. Then, if you’re good enough, specialty training starts. They push you, pound you, piss on you until they’ve stripped away every preconceived notion and everything you thought you were.”

  “Goodness.”

  “Then they put you back together.” His chest warmed. Shit. He loved it. “An alliance stronger than birth replaces your marrow. Loyalty to your country is your skeleton. Determination barricades your mind. Relentlessness strengthens your muscles more than any exercise. Your lungs run on adrenaline. Your heart beats for the miss
ion. Duty to those less capable forms an impenetrable skin.”

  As he talked, Kat’s eyes softened. Her lips parted. The breaths filling her lungs came in rapid succession.

  “Bullets and bombs play a role in your tactics. They don’t penetrate the warrior you’ve become.”

  Emotion squeezed his throat. He’d become the warrior, fought the fight, defended the weak, and now he was one of them. The warmth faded and an arctic gust blew between his ribs and threatened to freeze his heart.

  Fuck. He’d get past it. His warrior parts remained even if in pieces. But…motherfuck.

  Kat stepped forward to the level on which he stood. The movement yanked him from his pity party because she now stood close. Her brilliant eyes zeroed in on his. Long lashes interrupted an otherwise honed study.

  He’d kissed a lot of women, and none of them had taken a percentage of the care that Kat took with him. There was no question she intended to kiss him. Again, sheer volume and experience. She had the parted lip salivation, rapid breaths, and a throbbing arterial pulse he’d come to know and get off on, but Kat had something more. Caution and tension measured her assault. And Lordy was it an assault.

  Her fingertips tickled the scar over his heart. Gently, they drifted up, molding to the ridge of his redeveloped pec. Honeyed sweet breaths danced over his collarbone along with her fingers and then onto his neck.

  Hunter’s pulse rushed in his ears as though this were his first day of special operations training. He swallowed hard and told himself not to move. She needed to do this. He wanted her to do it. Anything and everything he’d take from her and return tenfold if he could.

  One of her palms cupped his left cheek, and she pulled his face down to hers. Dammit all, but she didn’t kiss him. She rubbed a trail over his nearly healed brow, down his cheek, and across his jaw with her other hand. Her forehead pressed to his in the most intimate gesture he’d ever experienced.

  She pulled him down farther still and molded her lips where her forehead had been. Her mouth dragged down to the tip of his nose, over to his eyes, and then his cheeks. Finally, her delicate mouth grazed his hard mouth so gently it hurt. Though fully clothed, he stood before her naked for the first time. Panic welled. What might she see? What might he reveal? It was too much. Where was the sexual tension he’d stoked in her since he’d gained consciousness? It had been there only moments ago. He’d seen it with his own eyes. These kisses spoke of compassion, not passion, and he hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with them.