Running Bear (Wounded Warriors Book 1)

by Tunstall,Kit

  When his tongue caressed hers almost shyly, she responded by massaging it with her own. His taste was so familiar, and she had been without it for so long, that tears prickled the back of her eyes. She blinked before they could fall, determined not to do anything to ruin the moment, or give Wyatt an excuse to pull away.

  She clung to him, deepening the kiss as she gradually moved her hands down his body, slipping under his torn T-shirt to caress his abdomen. The skin was smooth and taut, but he was definitely thinner than he had been. He still had well-defined abdominal muscles, and she ran her fingers over them as she traced the contours while moving her way upward.

  When her fingernails reached his nipple, she raked him lightly, just the way he liked. He rewarded her with an indrawn hiss of breath, followed by a deep growl in his throat. She knew what she was doing to him. It drove him wild.

  So did that certain spot on his neck. Carefully, moving as slowly as she would if he was a skittish colt, she moved her mouth from his and down his chin, peppering kisses along the way. When she reached the strong column of his throat, she flicked her tongue out to lick the path on his carotid artery before veering slightly to the left, seeking out a spot almost guaranteed to make him lose control. As soon as her lips brushed the area, he stiffened and started to push her away.

  Tenaciously, she clung to him, softening her lips as she grazed her teeth across the spot before latching on to suck slowly and rhythmically.

  “Dammit, Gillian, you have to stop.”

  She burrowed closer, deepening the intensity of her suction as she felt his last bit of resistance crumble and fade away. It was evident by the way his tense muscles loosened, and by the string of curses escaping him even as his hips bucked, his cock instinctively seeking out the warm heat between her legs.

  She had flipped the switch in him, that much was obvious. In seconds, they were no longer lying side by side. Instead, she was pinned firmly underneath him with the full weight of his groin pressing into hers. He paused only long enough to take off his shirt before lying down on her, almost crushing her with his weight. Rather than feeling suffocating or frightening, it was reassuring; a steadying presence she had missed over the past eighteen months.

  He grabbed a handful of her hair, tugging her head back to expose her throat. His lips moved there, feasting on the skin he found as though he were ravenous. She whimpered, arching her hips against him in search of relief. The layers of their clothing keeping them apart were too much to bear.

  When he lifted his head, he was breathing roughly, and his eyes had darkened. His hand in her hair loosened slightly as he allowed the locks to trail through his fingers. “I’ve missed this. Missed you,” he said gruffly. It was clear the admission cost him a lot.

  She nodded, feeling that irritating need to cry again. Gillian blinked back the tears and lifted her hands to cup his shoulders. She guided him down to her, her mouth claiming his in another long, slow kiss. It had always been like this with Wyatt, as though each kiss was their first. Pure dynamite, and almost surprising in its intensity. That hadn’t changed, but it had grown stronger.

  His hands moved between their bodies to unbutton her shirt, quickly stripping her of the garment. In his impatience, he ended up ripping off the last couple of buttons, but she’d worry about that later. He was equally quick to dispense with her plain white bra, unhooking the fasteners and sliding it from her shoulders in what seemed like an effortless motion.

  Like a starving man, he fell on her breasts, his mouth seeking out one plump pink nipple. She buried her hand in his hair, holding him close to her breast as he suckled frantically. Each tug of his mouth sent a corresponding pulse of pleasure through her core, and she shifted restlessly underneath him. She wanted him inside her again. She’d dreamed about it and fantasized about it so often she definitely remembered how it felt to have him, and she was desperate for that connection. “I need you, Wyatt.”

  He barely paid any attention at all, simply switching his attention from one breast to the other, while bringing up a hand to tug on the nipple he had just been sucking. She whimpered and arched against him again, desperate for relief. “Please. I need you right now.”

  He lifted his head, shaking it gently. “Not yet. It’s been so long, and I want to savor every moment.”

  She let out a frustrated groan. “You could savor later and just fuck me now.”

  Wyatt grinned. “Such a dirty mouth. Were you always such a dirty girl?”

  She rolled her eyes even as she giggled when his mouth drifted lower, moving down the soft flesh of her stomach so his tongue could dip carefully into her bellybutton before swirling around it. “I know what I want, and I’ve lost too much time waiting for it already.”

  “What’s a little more time?” The question was more a ghost of a breath across her lower stomach as his fingers deftly dealt with the zipper and snap of her jeans, pushing them down her thighs along with her panties in a quick motion that barely disrupted the path of his tongue to her mound.

  She let out a sobbing breath when his tongue reached her slit, clutching desperately at the handful of hair she had as she tried to push him closer to her. He resisted, maintaining space for a moment. He was almost touching, and each breath was like a caress against her heated flesh.

  Finally, when she was almost sobbing with need, he yielded and brought his mouth to her pussy. The first touch of his lips against her labia made her arch upward, and when his tongue slid inside her folds, all it did was fuel the hunger inside her rather than quench the need. She clutched the cloth upholstery on the seat, digging her nails in as she panted and moaned under the fierce onslaught of pleasure.

  She was so sensitive and had waited so long for him that it took little more than a few flicks of his tongue against her clit, followed by sucking on the taut bud, to send her into orgasm. She cried out his name as she came, only vaguely aware of him stripping off her clothes the rest of the way.

  She reached out to touch his flesh, needing to feel the reassurance of his skin as he moved away from her, his large frame clearly making it awkward to remove his pants. With a few curses and the rocking of the truck, he was finally back to her, and she reached between them to grasp the length of his cock, reveling in the feel of the smooth skin underneath her hand. She stroked his shaft, pumping him a couple of times and rewarded by a spurt of pre-cum each time. When he was smooth and lubricated, pulsing hotly in her hand, she guided him to the opening, and he sank inside.

  She whimpered as she took the full length of him. It had been eighteen months since they’d been lovers, and she hadn’t taken anyone in the interim. Quickly enough, her body adjusted and remembered the feel and length of him, softening and molding to his cock as though no time had passed at all since the last time he’d been inside her.

  She cupped his buttocks in her hands, digging in her nails lightly as she pulled him as deeply inside her as she could get. Her thigh bumped the steering wheel, but she barely noticed the slight flare of pain as she brought up her legs to lock around his.

  Once again, he threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping her head with his hands as he lowered his mouth to hers. Their tongues clashed, straining against each other as their lower bodies moved in a frantic rhythm. She was on the cusp of coming again already, and Wyatt seemed equally frantic as he plunged in and out of her, his pace growing erratic, but no less intense.

  With a small shout, he lifted his head, arching his back and thrusting more deeply inside her. His cock twitched a moment before he came, heralding his release. The sensation of him coming inside her started to send her over the edge, but it was his words that really pushed her toward a shattering climax.

  “I fucking love you, Gillian.”

  This time, the tears wouldn’t be denied, and they trickled down her cheeks, adding to the overwhelming sensations swirling through her. For a brief moment, she was nothing more than nerve endings and emotions as the world rocked and tilted around her, breaking apart before
reforming in a picture that was entirely different than it had been a few minutes ago. He had admitted he still loved her, and though she had known it, hearing it was still reassuring.

  Still trembling from the force of her release, she curved against him when he turned slightly so they were both lying on their side. He slipped from her, and she was bereft at the loss of his hard shaft inside her. She wanted to remain joined with him in every way imaginable, and the fact that it was impossible didn’t make her want it any less. Still, she knew they couldn’t spend the rest of their lives fused together and tried consoling herself with the reminder that this was just the first of an unlimited number of times they would be intimate in the future.

  If they survived that long.

  The cold return of reality made her shiver, this time not with blissful aftermath but with pure fear. “What are we going to do, Wyatt?”

  “Go to sleep,” he said with a bit of a growl. There was tenderness underlying it though, along with obvious exhaustion in his tone.

  “Shouldn’t we get on the road?” She looked up through the windshield, to the section of missing roof. It was still raining, but the sky was only a light gray instead of a dark gray now, and the storm seemed to be passing.

  “Soon enough. Just rest for now. I want to spend a few minutes holding you just like this before we think about what comes next.”

  She could hardly argue with that, and his body heat was tempting in the slight chill of the cabin of the truck. She snuggled as close as she could, wrapping her arm around his waist. Her other was over his shoulder, and she reveled in the ability to hold him again. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but the heat of his body, coupled with the physical exertion of lovemaking and sleep deprivation, soon made her eyes drift closed. She would just take a little nap, and when she woke up, they’d figure out the next step.

  Chapter Six

  Wyatt listened to her breathe as she slipped into sleep. She was soon making a low purring sound. Not quite a snore, but more a sound of contentment. He could relate, feeling the best he’d felt in years with her just like this. His arms tightened inadvertently around her, making her whimper slightly in her sleep, when the fear of losing her shot through him. He’d barely found her again, and had barely allowed himself to acknowledge the need he had for her. She was in danger as long as she was with him, and he couldn’t keep her at his side.

  The realization rocked him, making him once again tighten his arms without thought. This time, she didn’t whimper. She simply snuggled closer, her arms that had grown limp during sleep briefly tightening around him before her body relaxed again.

  “I love you,” he said in a whisper, brushing his lips against her temple. She made that purring sound again, as though her subconscious had heard his words and approved of them.

  Words, along with this brief moment, were all he could give her. He knew what he had to do, and that was keep her safe. Nothing else mattered as long as Gillian was protected, and he couldn’t do that if he stayed with her.

  His bear roared in his mind, and Wyatt realized the animal was closer to the surface than it had been in months. Instead of feeling repulsed by the idea, he found the voice of his animal in the back of his mind slightly reassuring for the first time in at least two years. His bear didn’t seem as wild or raging with Gillian in his arms. If they could stay like that forever, everything would be perfect. Unfortunately, that was an impossible goal.

  He allowed himself a few more minutes of holding her, both because he couldn’t yet tear himself away and also because he wanted to ensure she was sleeping deeply before he left her embrace. He needed to do it now, while he could still manage the necessary strength. It wasn’t a physical strength, but an emotional fortitude he’d lacked for a while. He’d been in hiding from himself and his bear, plain and simple. The events of the last twenty-four hours had dragged him out of hiding forcibly, but they had also temporarily reunited him with his mate. He wasn’t certain what the future held, but he couldn’t be sorry about it or regret anything if it had given him these few precious hours with Gillian.

  She barely stirred when he finally forced himself to pull away, feeling the separation like a physical wrench in his body as he slipped from his seat to the floorboard before quietly opening the door and maneuvering his way out into the barn. Wyatt found his clothes quickly and dressed hastily. He couldn’t just leave without saying anything, but when he found the pen and a rumpled piece of paper in the console, he held the writing implement over the paper for a long moment, trying to find words to express everything he felt, and how he hated leaving her, though it was necessary.

  In the end, he couldn’t think of the right words, so he said nothing. Instead, he simply wrote out the coordinates for Malcom’s place in Mexico, along with the word Sanctuary, which he underlined three times. As an afterthought, he added a tiny heart in the corner, unable to do more. She was stirring a bit, shivering, and he took an extra moment to drape his jacket over her. It was a little cool without it, and the rain would be unpleasant, but his bear had a higher metabolism than a human, and he’d survive just fine.

  With one last long look, memorizing her features as he struggled not to succumb to the wave of despair overtaking him, he moved away from the truck, closed the door quietly, and turned and walked away. He couldn’t allow himself to look back, or he might falter in his course. He might do the easy thing, which was return to her, but it wasn’t the right thing. Once again, he was walking away from his mate, but this time it wasn’t to hide from the world. This time, it was to protect her, to keep her safe, and to know she would have a chance to live regardless of what happened to him.

  The farther he got from the truck, the faster he ran. He needed to put as much distance between them as possible before she woke up and before he gave in to the urge to return to her. He was barely winded when he reached the main road, and he kept jogging lightly for more than a mile before slowing down to a rapid walk.

  As a car approached, he turned and stuck out his thumb, not really surprised when it drove on by. He kept walking as three more cars passed him, covering at least another two or three miles on foot before someone finally pulled over.

  He moved to the passenger side of the sedan, trying for a friendly smile when the window rolled down. He was surprised to see a young woman behind the wheel, hardly more than a girl. He had the urge to sternly warn her about picking up hitchhikers, but since he needed a ride, he decided to save that lecture for when he was getting out of the vehicle. “Hello,” he said softly, trying to appear nonthreatening.

  She gave him a tremulous smile, looking a little hesitant. “Um, hi. I guess you need a ride, right?”

  He nodded again. “If it isn’t too much trouble?”

  She shook her head, and the lock disengaged. “I can take you pretty much wherever you need to go. I don’t have a destination.”

  He opened the door and slid carefully into the seat, leaning back against it and keeping a respectable distance between them so the girl wouldn’t feel skittish. “I’d appreciate it if you could take me to the nearest military base, miss.” Just saying the words made his stomach clench and sent a trail of acid burning up his esophagus. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but what alternative was there?

  She nodded, putting the car in gear, and her little sedan ate up the distance between himself and captivity far more quickly than he would have liked. He almost snorted at the thought. Captivity seemed unlikely. It would probably be a temporary state, but his ultimate fate was likely execution. What else would they do with him after going to such lengths to kill him and his teammates?

  ***

  The girl, whose name he’d learned was Celia, pulled up in front of the closest military base a little more than an hour later. When she slid the gearshift into park, the slight sound was like a rocket exploding to his stretched nerves. He actually flinched, but quickly regained control. With a word of thanks to her, along with the admonishment not to pick up stranger
s, he waved to Celia as he got out of her car before approaching the guard booth.

  As Celia’s car backed away before turning a U-turn, he walked closer to the guards, who both stood at attention, hands on their weapons. He was careful to keep his hands extended away from him, making it obvious he was unarmed.

  The younger of the two guards took a step forward. “State your business and provide identification please.”

  “My name is Wyatt Stone, and I’m here to turn myself in.”

  At the sound of his name, the slightly older guard stiffened, bringing his gun fully on Wyatt. “Don’t move. I don’t even want to see you blink, or I’ll blow you away.”

  Wyatt was mildly amused. Did the M.P. really think he had come voluntarily onto a government base to surrender himself just to get shot for threatening behavior? He understood the kid had a job to do, but he wondered if there was a dose of common sense missing there.

  Instead of speaking, he simply remained standing semi-at-ease with his arms extended at his sides until the younger M.P. approached, handcuffing him. He didn’t resist. Why would he? This was the only way he could keep Gillian safe. If they had him, they’d have no further reason to pursue her.

  His armed escort marched him into the base and straight to the brig. No one paid much attention to him aside from a few whispers and long stares, and he ignored them as he stepped into the cell and took a seat on the bunk. It was a canvas cot, not even a metal frame with a thin mattress, but during his time in the military, he’d certainly slept on worse.

  He stretched out, trying to summon the old habit of being able to fall asleep anywhere. He was certain he would need his rest for the ordeal ahead, but he couldn’t seem to quiet his mind enough to allow himself to sleep. He wasn’t too concerned about his own fate, since he pretty well knew what it entailed. It wouldn’t be long before Wyatt Stone was nothing more than an expunged military record.