Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5)

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Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) Page 11

by Maddie Taylor

Her body convulsed as her orgasm claimed her. As her hips arched off the bed a good six inches, she cried out in a loud throaty rasp, “I love you, Sean!”

  Without looking away, he worked his hand hard up and down his cock. In seconds, his own climax surged forth. At the last second, he remembered to grab the napkin off the table to keep from shooting all over the computer screen. With a shuddering groan, his hungry gaze tracked over her body. As she stretched like a contented kitten, he came for her from seven thousand miles away.

  Chapter Eight

  Holly Jolly Christmas had been stuck on repeat in her brain ever since she’d heard it on the radio while driving to work that morning. It wasn’t Thanksgiving yet and a station had already started 24/7 holiday music. She didn’t care. In fact, she hummed the tune inanely, unable to shake it as she walked down the hall toward the nurse’s station. She was happy, almost giddily so. Sean was due home in less than a month and she’d finagled time off for the duration of his two-week long leave.

  “Mara?”

  She stopped both her humming and walking at the sound of her name. Turning, she saw Nancy, her nurse manager, signaling her. Yes, Nancy Nurse was the Head Nurse on their ward and was teased relentlessly for it, but she took it in stride having a great sense of humor. She didn’t look amused at the moment, however. Doing an about face, Mara headed her way wondering why she was there past five and what she could possibly want to see her about as she was going off shift that she hadn’t all day when she’d seen her practically around every corner.

  “What’s up?”

  “You have a phone call. You can take it in my office for privacy.”

  Her heart lurched to a stop. Who could possibly want to talk to her in private, at work? Other than…

  “What’s happened? It’s Sean, isn’t it? Is he all right?”

  “Don’t panic. He didn’t say why, but his captain is calling from Afghanistan.”

  She’d talked to Tony Rossi all of three times in the year she’d known Sean. He had no reason to call her unless something was seriously wrong. As if paralyzed, she stood unmoving in the middle of Nancy’s office, staring at the desk phone with the flashing red light.

  “Come on, Mara. He’s on hold.” Nancy guided her with an arm around her shoulders. “Do you want me to stay?”

  Mara nodded at her boss as she reached for the receiver with a trembling hand. She took a slow, steady breath, though it didn’t calm her at all. Instead, it hitched and shuddered, revealing her mounting distress. If Sean were— No. She wouldn’t think it. She was glad for Nancy’s presence, if it were bad news, she’d have to scrape her off the floor.

  Tentatively lifting the receiver to her ear, she pushed the flashing red light.

  “This is Mara Westbrook.”

  “Tony Rossi here, darlin’. I’m calling for Sean.”

  She collapsed onto Nancy’s desk, her pent up breath coming out in a rush. For Sean, rather than about him. That had to mean he was alive.

  “Mara?”

  “I’m here, Cap. What happened? Is he hurt?”

  “Yes, honey. Sean’s been injured.”

  “Oh my god! It must be bad if he couldn’t call me himself.”

  “He’s fresh out of surgery, darlin’ and was rather groggy, but he wanted me to call you right away.”

  “Sweet heaven, not again. Was he shot or was it another IED? Please, Cap, tell me what happened.”

  “Easy, Mara. He took a bullet to the thigh, the same one he broke last year unfortunately.”

  “Is he there? Can I—”

  “No, I’m not with him either. He was medevaced to Landstuhl Medical Center in Germany. I just got off the phone with his doctor and got an update. They let me speak to Sean briefly, but as I said, he was out of it. He only asked about you, darlin’. He wanted me to let you know he’d be coming home in a few days. Seems like Walter Reed needs to keep a bed reserved for our guy.”

  A sob escaped her. “This is number four, Cap. I don’t know how much more his body can take.”

  “One day at a time, Mara. That’s what your focus is now. Get him healed up and then talk about “what ifs”, okay?”

  “Okay, Cap. What was he doing this time? Saving the ass of another high ranking official who wanted a tour and a photo op?”

  “No. This time it was a woman in labor. If he hadn’t gone back for her, she and her baby would have died. You’re man is a true hero, Mara. Although don’t tell him I said that or he’ll kick my ass.”

  “He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I feel so unworthy sometimes.”

  “Mara. He loves you enough to want to marry you, so there must be a lot worth loving.”

  His stern tone sounded identical to Sean’s when she started talking crap.

  “That reminds me darlin’. You’re not his wife yet so it’s going to be difficult getting information until he gets home. Let me give you a contact at our C.O.’s office. I’ll call and make sure they keep you up to date on his status. Have you got a pen?”

  She searched the top of Nancy’s immaculate desk but there was nothing to write with. “Hold on a sec, Cap.” She mimicked writing to her boss who produced a pen and note pad. Mara carefully wrote down the information he gave her, repeating it back to be sure.

  “He’s going to be okay, darlin’, and soon we’ll all be dancing at your wedding.”

  “You don’t know how much I look forward to that day. Thank you for calling me and for the contact. I can’t say enough.”

  “No thanks needed, Mara. Sean is like my brother, which makes us family. Take care of yourself and of our boy when he gets home. We’ve all decided we’re calling him bullet magnet from now on.” He paused to chuckle. “Sean wasn’t too keen on the acronym, Lil T gave him for short. Cap out.”

  Bullet Magnet. BM. No, she guessed he wouldn’t appreciate that very much.

  “What can I do, Mara?” Nancy questioned as she hung up.

  “Nothing, thanks, at least not now. I need to reschedule my time off, however. He’s been shot again, but he’s coming home to me.”

  * * * * *

  The contact at General Davis’ office told her that Sean’s plane would arrive at 1400. Taking into account transport time, he should have been here thirty minutes ago at least. She paced outside the room that was prepped and waiting for him. If she had any nails left to bite, she would have been chomping away. Every time the elevator doors opened, she stopped and waited expectantly. When it wasn’t him, the anxious pacing began anew.

  “You’re going to wear out the tile floor if you don’t stop.”

  Mara stopped dead at the low voice with its low Texas drawl. It wasn’t Sean’s, but it was soothing and familiar. She whirled, surprised to see Cap, with Dex standing right beside him. Not knowing them well, she still had an overwhelming urge to rush forward and let one of them envelope her in his strong arms. Heck, she needed a hug so badly she’d ask both of them to hold her. These were Sean’s teammates, his brothers in arms, and closer than family. She took a hesitant step forward and stopped, unsure of her welcome.

  “Get over here, woman,” Dex rumbled, as he spread his arms wide.

  She rushed to him and breathed a heavy sigh as he gave her a huge bear hug.

  “Well, this is a fine welcome. I turn my back for a minute and you’re making a move on my girl.”

  Mara stiffened. That Texas drawl she recognized. Pushing out of Dex’s arms, she spun and saw Sean being wheeled down the hall on a stretcher. As he moved closer and she saw his beloved face, her shoulders slumped and a sob slipped out with the breath she’d been holding. Soon her body shook as she wept in relief. For a woman who prided herself on never crying, she was giving a fine impersonation of a two-year-old whose favorite toy had been taken away. Having gone with barely three hours of sleep for the past three nights as horrifying images of Sean being shot riddled her dreams, she was on the point of collapse. Her knees started shaking and she reached out for the nearest solid surface, which happened to
be Cap.

  “Catch her,” Sean called.

  Tony, who was even bigger than Dex, who was a mountain, scooped her up in his arms. “Which room?” he barked, expecting an immediate answer.

  “810, sir,” the corporal who was serving as Sean’s escort replied.

  Tony led the way into the room and settled her in a chair. “Put your head between your knees while I get a nurse, Mara.” Also an order, but with her he was much gentler.

  “I’m okay, Cap. Just a little overwhelmed.” She looked on expectantly as Sean transferred himself from the stretcher to his bed with an attendant guiding his braced leg. When he settled back against the pillows, he reached out a hand to her.

  “Come here, baby.”

  She was out of her chair and across the room in a split second, burying her face in his neck and melting into him as his strong, achingly familiar arms wrapped around her.

  “Sh, nightingale, I’m fine.”

  She pushed up, wiping the tears from her face in frustration. “You’re not fine. They shot you again. This makes four times, Sean. It’s too much. You’re giving off some kind of signal, or they’re using special bullets that keep finding you. Something is not right. Who gets shot four freakin’ times?”

  “A bullet magnet,” Dex deadpanned.

  Mara nodded. “That’s why you’re not going back. I won’t have it.”

  Sean blinked at her, visibly surprised at her vehemence at first, then breaking into a huge smile.

  “Don’t you laugh at me, Sean O’Brien. Not unless you want me to start calling you BM, too.”

  Tony and Dex both laughed behind her. In an aside, Cap said, “I thought he was the Dom in the relationship.”

  “I guess he’s a switch,” Dex drawled in reply. “Who knew?”

  Mara turned on them next. “I don’t find anything amusing about this situation. Look at his leg. He can’t continue to crawl around the freakin’ desert with hamburger meat as a thigh muscle.”

  “Mara.” Sean pulled her around to face him. “Don’t take it out on Dex and Cap, although they deserve it for the switch comment.” His eyes shifted over her head as he glared at his friends. “Pigs will fly out my ass the day I become a bottom.”

  She ignored their ridiculous banter and slid her hand up to his face, cupping his bearded jaw. His image became watery as more tears pooled in her eyes. “The next time they’ll kill you, Lucky. I know it.”

  “Mara, baby, don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand curling around the nape of her neck, pulling her in close. “It so happens the Army agrees with you. Four purple hearts for one man is too much. They’re fast tracking my discharge request.”

  “They are?”

  “I did the paperwork earlier today, Mara.” She turned to his captain, who was nodding, then switched to Dex.

  He smiled at her with a wink. “It’s true. He’s all yours, although why you’d want his sorry ass is beyond me.”

  She didn’t acknowledge that dig either and turned back to Sean. “Are you really home for good?”

  “Yeah, nightingale. After they get me back on my feet, I’ll be a civilian.”

  “Like me,” Cap added.

  “And me,” Dex also put in. “Of course with the Army it will probably be at least six months, though I’m optimistic.”

  “Freakin’ amateurs,” Sean goaded tongue-in-cheek. “They’re doing it the safe way, through normal routes and proper channels instead of using the lead method, which is more direct. My way is painful, but much quicker.”

  “Dex, did you hear? All we have to do is shoot each other in the thigh.”

  Sean chuckled. “I think I can recommend as one who knows, wait the six months.”

  “I hear you, man,” Cap affirmed.

  Mara was paying them no mind. After hearing he wouldn’t be going back, everything else faded into the background. She dropped her head, face planting into his chest, breathing him in. As his lips pressed and held against the top of her head, she let relief claim her. After months without him and the past few days of constant worry, it felt so damn good to be in his arms, to feel his kiss and to hear his heart beating in a strong steady rhythm. Snuggling deeper into his embrace, her arms squeezed his waist tight, then she whispered, “Thank you, God.”

  Their voices rumbled low around her as she thought about having Sean in her life every day. It was like a dream.

  Suddenly, she sat up, twisting to face the other two men. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I was upset—”

  “Mara gets sassy when she gets nervous and upset,” Sean added for her when she didn’t finish her thought.

  “No worries, Mara,” Cap assured gently. “You were being protective. I see that and more. As I said on the phone, there’s a whole lot worth loving.” She smiled at Cap warmly while Dex and Sean shared a confused glance. “We’ll get out of your hair. After months apart, you two have a lot of catching up to do. Dex?”

  “We’ll keep in touch, Sean. We don’t head back until next week, but we’ll be in again for leave over Christmas, although we’re heading home to San Antonio.”

  “Elena will be happy, I know,” Sean replied, tugging on Mara until she was back in his arms again.

  “That makes two of us.” Dex’s smile was almost wistful as he watched the two of them, likely imagining holding his own woman in his arms. “Believe me, we know what you and Mara have been going through.”

  Both men shook his hand and with a nod to Mara, were gone.

  “I thought they’d never leave,” Sean sighed. “Kiss me, baby.”

  “They were worried, babe.”

  “I know, but the foremost thing on my mind is kissing and holding you.” His hands curled under her armpits, hauling her up against him until her upper body was aligned with his.

  “Be careful,” she squealed, “you’re hurt.”

  “My leg is injured, nightingale, but there ain’t a damn thing wrong with my arms that need to hold you, or my mouth that needs a kiss, or my cock—”

  Her hand came up to smother the rest, as she twisted toward the door in dismay.

  He kissed her fingers before pulling her hand away. “I don’t care who knows how much I need you, Mara. I’ve missed you and I want you badly, but I won’t embarrass you at work. Since I can’t have all of you, I’ll take those lips. Now.”

  Melting against him, she slid her hands into his hair that had grown overlong in the months he’d been away. Eagerly she met his lips in an open mouthed, tongue-tangling, heart-pounding kiss. They didn’t come up for air until they heard the quiet clearing of a throat. It was Regina, one of her co-workers, interrupting to get him admitted. She winked at Mara as she got to work, a smile plastered across her face. They all knew how much she had missed him.

  * * * * *

  “Well?” she asked expectantly as he walked out of the surgeon’s office. This was his second follow up appointment since being discharged a month ago.

  “Does it seem like we’ve done this before?”

  “Yes, and I didn’t like it any better the first time. What did he say?”

  “The wound is mending well with no signs of infection. He credits my excellent nursing care for how quickly it is healing.”

  She was too anxious to hear the rest to address the compliment, besides it was good hand washing, antibiotic ointment and a dressing twice a day, hardly rocket science.

  “What about your leg, the swelling and the numbness?”

  “After seeing the test results, he agrees with the doctors in Germany. There is nerve damage. Evidently, the old trauma, the fracture, the damage from the shrapnel that was left inside to fester entirely too long, combined with the new damage has all taken its toll. He says the swelling may be chronic and the neuropathy, whatever that is, will likely be a permanent condition as well.”

  “Neuropathy is simply a medical term for nerve disease. I’m sure all the trauma has damaged the network of nerves in your leg, but there has to be some vascular problem or something more
which explains the swelling and the paresthesias.”

  “English, nightingale.”

  “Oh, sorry, that’s the numbness, tingling and those prickling sensations you get in your foot, and the muscle weakness. So what’s the plan?”

  “Bottom line, I don’t have many choices other than civilian life. Returning to combat is out and becoming a permanent desk jockey—not that I’d accept that—is also out because the leg swells if I’m stationary. He agrees with the discharge and is sending it to committee.”

  “Committee? I thought it was a done deal. What does a committee need to decide?”

  “In a word, benefits. There’s a difference between a regular discharge with less than twenty years of service and a medical discharge after being wounded.”

  “Wouldn’t they do that through the VA anyway?”

  “Yeah, but there’s also the matter of a paycheck.”

  She snorted. “What a bunch of bull. The least they owe you after leaving shrapnel in your leg in the first place is a full pension. To add insult to injury, quite literally, they sent a soldier back to duty to go stomping around the desert or the mountains, or whatever the hell kind of terrain they have in godforsaken Afghanistan, with obvious circulation problems and swelling in his leg only to be injured for the fourth time. I can’t get over it.”

  “Mara. It wasn’t the Army’s fault I got shot. As a soldier, it’s an occupational hazard.”

  “Maybe so, but the ignorant quack who left the metal in your leg, and the one who released you to go back last time should lose his license.”

  “Baby.”

  “I’m sorry, Sean. This really ticks me off.”

  It had been a month and superficially, his wound was healed. Functionally, his leg was better and he’d long since ditched the cane, even thought it was stiff and blew up like a balloon if he was on his feet too long.

  “So that’s it? Are there no other treatment options?” Mara scowled, her brows gathered in exasperation. “I find it hard to believe there isn’t something else they can do. What about a second opinion?”

  “I mentioned it. He’s going to check into it.”

 

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