He looked at her as he brought a piece of sushi to his mouth. After he had finished chewing, he responded, “It went well, but there’s only so much I can do from here. It’s hard to help when I am not out in the field.”
“I don’t get it. Why do you need to be in the field? Can’t you just make the technology here?”
“Sometimes they need a little guidance in the field, with use and installation. Especially right now, with this new platform I’ve built.” He paused. “They want me back.”
Kate froze. She placed her chopsticks on her paper plate and looked up at him.
“I don’t know what to do. I got out because my family begged me not to sign up for another tour of duty, but I feel so guilty about not being more involved. I feel like I could help so much more if I were at least there to assist with the reconnaissance missions. ISIS is getting out of control. Something has to be done.” He stared at his food in a daze.
“But you’ve built a life here. People need you. The veterans need you. You’re helping so many.” She paused for a moment. “And you were shot. I don’t think going back is a good idea.”
“You don’t know me.” His eyes jerked up to her face, and he grimaced.
“I know that your sister loves and adores you. She needs you.” She kept her eyes on his, despite his icy stare.
“A lot of people need me. Our country needs me. At least that’s what the general just said.”
“You don’t need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders. I know you want to save people like you are trying to save me and your fellow veterans. But you can’t save everyone. It’s not your responsibility.”
He looked away from her and rubbed his hand over his clenched jaw. Why had he even said anything to her? He never opened up to anyone, not even his sister. What the hell was wrong with him? “Listen, can we drop it? I’m sorry I got so tense.” He rose to his feet and picked up his almost empty plate.
“Fine,” she snapped. She closed up the containers with leftover food and brought them into the kitchen.
“Wine?” he asked when she entered.
“Um, sure.”
He poured a German Riesling into two large Riedel glasses. He offered her one and leaned against the counter in his usual stance. He pushed one hand into his jeans pocket while bringing the cool, crisp liquid to his mouth with the other.
Kate sat on a nearby barstool, and her eyes scanned the length of him as if assessing his mood. “Should I leave you alone?”
He looked over at Kate, studying her tanned and shapely legs. “No.”
“So, is Julia already back in L.A.?”
Finally, something he could talk about with ease. “Yeah, her flight left earlier today.”
“Does she know about me being here?”
“I didn’t want to worry her.”
“Good. Thank you.”
He wasn’t exactly itching to tell his sister that Kate was staying at his place. He knew she’d freak.
“So, your friend will be here tomorrow? And the bodyguard, as well?”
“Yeah. The sooner this is over with, the better.”
Kate sighed. “I hate to be such a burden. I can stay at a hotel starting tomorrow since I’ll have a bodyguard.”
She had taken his words the wrong way. “No. Hell, no. You’re staying with me.” He walked over and stood in front of her. “I didn’t mean that I wanted to get you out of my house. I just want the creep caught, so you’re safe.” He tilted his head and stared into her eyes, which were a little greener today than blue. “Of course, you being here is a challenge for me.”
“You’re the one who turned me down,” she reminded him.
He touched her face with the back of his hand and set his wine glass down. His heart hammered in his chest as the proximity to her almost filled the void inside him. But she was off limits. He removed his hand from her cheek and picked up his wine, taking a step back. “So, how about them Yankees?” he echoed her joke from their first dinner together.
“Red Sox, remember?” She raised her eyebrows as her eyes widened. “You never fail to surprise me.” And then her face changed. “Please, don’t go back to the Middle East.”
Instead of responding, he poured more wine into his glass and left the kitchen.
“Michael, wait. I’m sorry.” She followed him into the living room and out onto the balcony, where she gulped down the rest of her wine in one quick swig.
He ignored her and leaned against the railing, looking down onto the street.
She set her empty glass on a nearby table and approached him. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I may not know you well like you said, but you don’t know me, either, and that hasn’t stopped you from trying to protect me. So, why can’t you understand that I want to help you?”
He looked over his shoulder at her and turned to face her. “Your life is worth saving. Mine is not.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Clearly, you’re needed. What good would you be dead?”
“I should’ve died in Afghanistan. My entire platoon pretty much died. I shouldn’t have survived,” he said through gritted teeth. He didn’t mean to voice his thoughts.
“I don’t know what happened, but you’re here for a reason.” She placed her hand on his forearm and attempted to hold his gaze, despite his glowering. “How many lives have you saved since that day? With the technology you designed—how many people are alive because of it?”
Michael gripped her shoulders and pulled Kate against him, taking them both by surprise. He pressed his lips hard against hers, almost as if he was punishing her for making him feel, making him remember.
He could feel a slight tremble in her body as he pulled away from her. “Michael,” she whispered.
His eyes widened a fraction before he stormed off the balcony and left her standing there, alone.
Michael walked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned against the door and rubbed his hands over his face. What was she doing to him? “God damn you,” he muttered, not quite sure whom he was cursing.
***
The sound came as a shock to her. It started slow and guttural, but it grew louder. And louder. Kate walked out of her bedroom and wandered into the living room, searching for the noise that had awakened her from her dreams.
He was screaming. A blood-curdling scream.
Kate picked up her pace and ran to Michael’s room. She opened his door without thinking and darted to the bed. Tangled in his sheets, his naked body jerked in convulsive movements.
He was having a nightmare. A bad one, from what she could tell.
“Michael,” she whispered his name, afraid to startle him.
No response. He continued to flail on the bed.
She moved toward him and sat on the edge. She touched his chest and said his name again, a little louder.
And then she was on the floor. Breathless. And he was on top of her, his weight punishing her chest, making it difficult to breathe. His eyes were dark and unrecognizable. “Michael, please.”
Realization must have hit him; he jumped off. “What the hell?” He kneeled down and helped her off the floor, scooping her into his powerful arms and laying her on his bed. “You okay?” He ran his hands through his hair and stared down at her, unaware of his nakedness.
It took her a moment to process everything. One minute she was trying to help him, and the next she was pinned beneath him. “I’m okay,” she lied.
“What happened?”
“You were having a nightmare, I assume. I heard you all the way from my room. I tried to wake you.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” He sat beside her and reached for her hand, but she jerked it away. She couldn’t even look at him. His body was hard—rock hard. And glistening with sweat. Greek gods had nothing on this man.
He rose to his feet and grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser.
So he had realized that he was naked.
Kate attempted to rise to her feet. H
er knees buckled, and she sat back down.
“I am so sorry. I thought your room was far enough away that I wouldn’t wake you.” He leaned against the nearby wall, placing some distance between them.
“Does this happen often?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She attempted to flex the muscles in her legs. Would they hold her if she tried to stand again? “What are the nightmares about?”
His eyes narrowed. “I said that I don’t want to talk about it.”
The grit in his voice should have served to her as a warning—leave him alone. Cold, bitter, and angry: these were the adjectives she could use to describe Michael Maddox at this moment. But Kate ignored the red flags and stood up. She closed the distance between them. Standing face to face, she reached out and touched his chest, despite the steady flow of warnings from her brain.
His pectoral muscles flinched beneath her fingers. Without thinking, she leaned in and kissed the bullet wound near his heart.
Michael gulped. He placed his hands on her arms and tried to push her away from him.
But she resisted. She caressed his six-pack and leaned in and brushed her lips against another bullet wound. “I want to take your pain away,” she said, looking up into his blue eyes.
He stared at her for a beat and lifted her up and carried her to his bed. His gaze was intense, focused. It burned through her.
“Michael.”
He joined her on the bed. He leaned in and his lips brushed soft kisses against hers, but his kiss grew more intense as his tongue dipped inside her mouth. He moved to his back and flipped her on top of him. Their bodies collided against each other. He peeled off her tank top and ran his hand over her smooth, velvety skin until he found her waist.
She began to run her mouth over his jaw and down his throat. Her hands wandered over his hard chest and up his corded biceps. He felt so good. She pushed her hard nipples against his firm body and slipped her hand down his boxers, feeling his length. He was hard. Really hard.
His body jerked at her touch.
She rose to her feet and slipped her silky pajama shorts, along with her nude panties, to the floor.
He looked up at her, raw appreciation evident in his eyes. He tugged his boxers down, exposing his large and full erection.
The man was hot. And Kate—not a glamazon model—was going to feel him inside her. Holy hell, she wanted him so bad. She moved to straddle him but gasped as he flipped her to her back.
Michael stared down at the pool of blonde hair beneath her and kissed her again. He cupped her full breast with one hand while sliding his other down to the smooth V at the center of her legs. She was wet. She moaned into his mouth when he slid two fingers inside her.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked with a voice that registered deep longing.
“Yes, but I—I always use protection.”
He was off her for but a second and returned with a foil pack. He set it beside him and resumed stroking her body with his hands while taking her hard nipple into his mouth. He worked his way back to her lips and tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. “I’ve been dying to bite this lip since we met.” When she moaned, she lifted her hips with longing, and he reached for the foil pack, ripped it open, and slid the condom over his length.
She tilted her pelvis up, ready to take him all in. She’d never wanted anyone so much in all her life.
He eased into her, resting his hands on either side of her body. He held himself up and looked into her eyes as he penetrated her. Then he went even deeper. She was tight—it had been so long—but she took all of him, felt every glorious inch. Their breathing became more rapid as their bodies moved together. The feelings of pleasure he elicited with each and every touch, with every thrust, had her spiraling out of control.
It was ecstasy.
Sex with Michael was sheer bliss—a precipitous climb that resulted in the most amazing orgasm she had ever experienced.
After Kate climaxed, during which she stifled the cliché desire to call out his name, she noticed his body pick up the pace. He was moving faster, which heightened her already raw body to feel entirely new sensations.
After a few more minutes he groaned and tilted his head back in release. He rolled to his side, a lazy smile on his face, looking drunk with satisfaction. He pulled her against his sweaty body, tightening his grip on her waist.
“Oh, are we done?” She drew her eyebrows together into a false pout.
“Give me a few minutes and there will be more.” He pressed his mouth to hers and lifted her on top of him.
***
Kate woke a few hours later to find the bed empty. They’d had a marathon of sex, and she must have fallen asleep after. Sex with Michael had proven spectacular and addictive.
The night had been amazing—just what she needed to take her mind off the heavy stuff. She wondered why people did drugs when they could experience what she assumed to be even better pleasure from sex.
Of course, not everyone had Michael. Not everyone got to be with the Man of Steel.
Or did they? How many women had he slept with?
Kate grew angry that she had allowed her mind to drift yet again into dangerous territory. When she had decided to throw her rules out the window and sleep with him, she knew that she would need to accept him as he was.
And that meant accepting that he would be rid of her soon. Maybe he was already done with her.
Kate stepped out of his mammoth bed and retrieved her silk tank top and shorts from the floor. She dressed and walked down the hall in search of him. It was four in the morning, so it was still dark outside.
Michael was standing out on his balcony, dressed only in a pair of sweats, despite the slight chill in the September air. Her breath caught in her throat as he turned toward her. In spite of her drowsy soreness, she found herself growing hot with desire just looking at him.
The shadow of the moon was cast down on him, making him look somehow unreal. His chest moved with each slow breath. She noticed for the first time his slight dusting of chest hair and the dark trail of hair at his navel. His five o’clock shadow from yesterday had grown even darker. And she had thought he couldn’t get sexier . . .
“You okay?” she asked upon approach. Her shoulders were hunched as she glanced up at him from the side of her eye. She rubbed her arms, feeling a bit cold, and waited for him to reply.
“Yeah.”
She closed the gap between them and rested her hand on his forearm. “You were gone from bed when I woke.”
He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I couldn’t sleep.” He looked away from her and fixed his gaze on the hotel building across the street.
Was it because of her—or his nightmare? She shook the thought from her head and did something that she hadn’t expected to do. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest.
She could feel his body flinch. Was he uncomfortable?
She got her answer soon after when he pulled away from her and cleared his throat.
“You should get back to bed. You’re freezing.”
Just like that, his icy mask had fallen into place. The Man of Steel was back.
Chapter Twelve
Michael was standing in the kitchen cooking an omelet when he looked up to see Kate. Although she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep, she looked rested. He was relieved when she had left the balcony to sleep in her own room. He hadn’t wanted to be rude, but he also didn’t want to send her any mixed messages.
Yes, the sex had been sweeter than he could have imagined—and he had imagined it a lot—but he couldn’t mislead her. She was too sweet, too good.
“Hi.” Her voice was a near whisper.
She was standing at the edge of the kitchen. Was she nervous to be around him after what happened last night? “Morning,” he said before focusing back down on the frying pan.
“A man who can cook. Smells good. Can I help?” She approached
the kitchen island and pressed her palms on the counter.
Michael tilted his head to the side and studied her for a moment. His eyes traveled over her body, admiring the curves displayed by her workout shorts and bright orange tank top. “No, I’m just about done. Have a seat.” He caught a look of disappointment in her eyes as he slid the omelet onto a plate and carried it to her.
“Looks amazing. Thank you so much.” She stared at the food in a daze.
He slid on a stool next to her and placed his hand on hers. “You okay?” He removed his hand, startled by his gesture. What am I doing?
“Sure.” Fork in hand, she pushed the food around her plate.
“What’s wrong?” But he already knew the answer.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I’m sorry.” She stood up and pushed away from the kitchen island. “Thank you for the food, but I don’t have much of an appetite.”
He crossed his arms and leaned his elbow against the counter. He wasn’t sure what to say. Anything he could come up with would make him sound like a dick.
“Last night was amazing. I mean, like, amazing with capital letters. But we have been thrown together under unusual circumstances, and that would never have happened otherwise.” She paused and rubbed her hands against her sides, fixating on the floor. “I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl. I thought I could be. But when I walked into the kitchen this morning, and I saw you . . . I didn’t know where we stood. Do I act laid back? Do I kiss you? Do I pretend nothing happened? I—I don’t know how to act in this situation.” She looked up at him.
His stance softened a little, but his blue eyes remained cool and aloof. “I’m sorry, Kate. I enjoyed last night. It was great. But I can’t be anyone else—this is me. I only do casual.” He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his cargo shorts pockets. “I would love to be with you again. What we had last night was . . .” His body was tensing just thinking about it. “But we shouldn’t let that happen again. I can never give you what you need—what you deserve.”
“And why is that?”
Her question surprised him. He was the one now examining the hardwood floor. “I just can’t get into this right now.” He paused and forced his attention back to her eyes. “Listen,” he began, reaching for her hand, but she stiffened and pulled away, “I promise I will keep you safe. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you—that is something you need that I can give you.”
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