Steel Rain: A Military Romance Collection

by A. Gorman

  I nodded, my hand now lying flat against her bare belly, my other hand squeezing her waist. “You did. I said no alcohol.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed, then she shook her head. “No, you said you wouldn’t buy me any wine at the store. There’s a difference.”

  “You have a sassy mouth.”

  “Then why don’t you shut me up?” she whispered.

  For the second time tonight, I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers. She didn’t bite me this time, instead, she crushed her chest against mine, and wrapped one leg around my backside as I lifted her onto the counter and kissed her. My tongue snaked into her mouth and hers mingled with mine. She tasted sinful. I could feel the heat radiating from between her legs as I ground my hips into her open thighs. I wanted to rip off her bra, then her pants, in that order, and plunge into her. Damn she was making me crazy.

  Her soapy wet fingers slithered up my shoulder, across my neck, then into my beard. She lightly scratched my face with her fingernails, and if I thought I was hard before, I now think my dick could probably drill through wood, if it had to.

  It was painful.

  “Damn, woman. We should not be doing this,” I said when I broke away from her mouth to lick and suck at her neck.

  “I know. Especially right now,” she replied, breathless.

  “Why’s that?” I murmured.

  “Because it’s not a good time of… “ She put her mouth back on mine.

  I was trying to figure out what she was saying but my head was swimming with all the lusty thoughts of what I was going to do after I ripped her clothes off.

  Wait a second. Weren’t we at the store to buy… feminine products? Gah. I pulled away from her and said, “I need to get out of here.”

  I adjusted myself behind my zipper and practically flew out the back door, slamming it behind me. The cool Virginia night air hit me like a slap to the face and I sucked in a huge lungful of it to clear my head. I breathed in, then out, then in again, my hands on my knees as I tried to get a grip. I reached up and massaged my leg. The cold air had sent instant pain shooting through it.

  What in the freaking hell was wrong with me? This was so unprofessional. Even though this was my first WPD assignment, I still knew better than to get with a vic like this. It was just lust, I told myself. I didn’t even really like her that much.

  But what about her did I not like? Sassy? Yes. So what? It wasn’t like she was being a total bitch. Considering what she was going through, having been ripped from her life and regular routine, I thought she was handling it quite well. Well, aside from her sneaking the booze. I laughed to myself; I probably would have done the same thing if I’d have found it.

  I looked up to see a small circle of a clearing, the tall trees surrounding me on both sides. The forest was eerily quiet, and the light from an almost-full moon shone overhead. Pulling my dip can from my back pocket, I slid it open as I walked – limped –and yanked a pinch, shoving it into my bottom lip. Sighing, I looked down at the can and shook my head. I really should kick this nasty habit.

  It was better than smoking… a small voice said.

  But was it? I didn’t think so, and knew I needed to wean off my nicotine addiction.

  After this can is empty…

  My thoughts drifted back to Rayanne. I couldn’t deny the physical attraction that was there. But was there something more? I couldn’t entertain that thought. It was my duty to protect her at all costs – it was my job. This was me paying my penance for fucking up on the job. Even though I still thought two out of the three “excessive force” charges were bullshit. One, I’d take the heat for. I’d lost my temper. The other two deserved what they got.

  I heard a branch break behind me and my gun was out of its holster and in my fist faster than I could blink. With both arms locked in front of me, my silver H&K pistol glinted in the moonlight at the subject standing in front of me.

  Rayanne gasped and put her hands up in surrender. Biting her lip, she said, “Don’t shoot.”

  Shaking my head, I re-holstered the pistol at my hip and snapped it in. “You scared the shit outta me, woman.”

  She visibly breathed a sigh of relief and came toward me slowly, wearing her jeans and the shirt I’d put into the back of them earlier. She’d put it back on and I sort of wished she would have left it off.

  I stood stock-still as she came toward me, my hand still digging into my leg to stay the pain there. She came up to me and stopped within inches of me, but not touching me. Her eyes searched my face with an unreadable expression on hers, then they traveled down to my thigh, and her brow furrowed.

  “Don’t you have any medication for that?” she asked quietly.

  I shook my head. “Nah. I just deal with it.”

  I watched as she leaned down, getting on her knees, the leaves crunching under her weight. With both hands, she slowly edged them down my thigh, stopping at my scar. Even though she couldn’t see it through my pants, she seemed to know right where it was. With slow, gentle strokes, she massaged it, and it felt like absolute heaven. With no control, I groaned in the back of my throat.

  She looked up at me. “There’s no harm in a little medication to take the edge off, Duke. Pain isn’t normal. It means something’s wrong.”

  I shook my head. “Sometimes pain is the only thing I have to remind me I’m still alive and can still feel. I need it.”

  With her eyebrows furrowed, she stood up, her hand still on my leg as she gently grasped my left hand in hers. “No, you don’t. I can’t help but think if you weren’t in pain all the time, you might be….” she bit her lip, “nicer?”

  I snorted, but didn’t pull away from her. “What are you talking about? I’m perfectly nice.” I flashed her my teeth, but I couldn’t really feel the rest of my face twist into a smile.

  “You’re like a dog with a thorn stuck in its paw. All grumpy and growly. When we are done with this assignment, I want you to go to the doctor and see if they can help you.”

  I laughed and pulled away from her, turning my head to spit on the ground. “Blondie, I’ve taken drugs, and gotten shots. They work temporarily but those drugs are weaknesses I don’t need in my life. I’ve been living with this for four years. I’m dealing just fine.”

  “Okay,” she said quietly. She turned around to go back into the house, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered slightly.

  “Rayanne.”

  She stopped and turned around. “Yes, Duke?”

  “I’m sorry about the kitchen. That was unprofessional of me. It won’t happen again.”

  She smiled sadly, and said, “And I won’t have any more bourbon. Obviously, it’s been a while, and I could barely handle a couple of shots.”

  “That’s right, because I hid the bottle.”

  She nodded and turned around, heading back to the house. I added, “I may let you have a little more tomorrow if you’re good. You’re kinda cute when you’re drunk.”

  Stopping for a second, I thought I heard her laugh, and then she kept walking and disappeared behind the old wooden door of the small cabin.

  Chapter 16

  Rayanne

  I went into my room and closed the door, barely enough energy to change into my nightshirt and pajama bottoms and crawl into bed. Between the bourbon, the cooking, and the angst with Duke, I was exhausted.

  I lie there staring at the ceiling, trying to figure him out. His good looks were so distracting to me, that at first I had failed to see the pain behind his eyes. His brow always seemed to be creased, and I took this as anger, but maybe it was pain. Sure, I’d noticed his limp, but plenty of people live with injuries but aren’t in chronic pain. My heart went out to him, as I couldn’t imagine not only living with chronic physical pain, but there had to be some emotional trauma that went along with it. He had said that the pain reminded him that he could still feel. Had he closed himself off after his injury?

  He clearly had no wife, and probably no girlfriend either. Everyt
hing about him screamed terminal bachelor, and with the attitude he was putting off, I could totally understand why. What woman, aside for more than a night of fun, would want to put up with him? It was like he purposely put off asshole vibes to keep people at arm’s length. Which led me to wonder why he chose the profession he was in. It was his job to protect victims whose lives had been threatened, all because they were trying to do the right thing and put bad people behind bars where they belonged. A role like that seemed to scream ‘protector’ and ‘hero’ – not standoffish asshole.

  Duke was most definitely a puzzle I was determined to figure out. Hell, I had nothing better to do. I’d read 9 of the 10 books we’d bought at the store and I was growing restless with reading and needed something else to occupy my brain. Maybe I’d find some more buttons of his to push and see if he pushed back.

  * * *

  Morning light streaming in through my window, combined with the smell of coffee and the clanging of cast iron aroused me. I glanced at the alarm clock plugged into the wall on the small, round bedside table. It was barely 8:00 a.m.

  I really didn’t want to get out of bed because I knew I had another boring day of nothing ahead of me. I know a lot of people – people like my sister and my mom – who would kill for a day of nothing. But not me. I liked to keep busy. On a normal week, I would work 50-60 hours a week at the law firm, realizing my personal time was even more precious after working so hard. Now, I was bored out of my mind.

  Reluctantly flipping back the covers, I yawned and stretched, getting up out of bed and heading toward the kitchen, where the smells there were enticing me.

  Duke was at the stove with a spatula in his hand, his ass looking way too fine in a pair of silver athletic shorts. The muscles in his back bunched and moved, taking the fitted green T-shirt with them.

  “Good morning.” I smiled.

  He grinned and turned back to the stove. “Good morning.”

  “Coffee?” I said, smoothing down my hair that I was sure was sticking up. That was the downfall to this short haircut. It stuck straight up after a night of sleep.

  He used the spatula to point across the kitchen where the coffeemaker was perched on a table near the curio cabinet. As I made my way over there, Duke said, “Here.”

  In his hand, he held a plain white coffee mug.

  “Thanks.”

  I filled up the mug with the steaming black perfection, and went to the fridge to find some creamer. He’d only bought vanilla flavored, so I dumped a little in, and used a spoon sitting on a folded paper towel to stir it.

  I sat at the table and carefully took a sip. God, it was so good. Since I had nothing to do but stare at Duke as he cooked, I didn’t allow myself to feel guilty for doing so. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I didn’t have a phone to play on or a newspaper to read. Plus the view was much better than anything online.

  He turned around and carried a steaming plate over to the table and set it in front of me. I looked down at it. There was a perfectly made omelet and two slices of bacon. I usually didn’t care to eat as soon as I got up, but I most certainly wasn’t going to say anything.

  “Thank you,” I said, sincerely meaning it.

  Duke walked to the table with his own plate and fork and sat down across from me at the little outdated wooden table.

  He didn’t say anything, just dug into his food and began to eat.

  I tried not to watch him, but couldn’t help it. He held his fork like a shovel, his entire meaty hand wrapped around the silver stem, as he, in fact, shoveled it into his mouth.

  Biting back a grin, I carefully used the side of my fork to cut the omelet and forked a piece of it into my mouth. The omelet was perfect, and I told him so. “This is delicious, Duke. Thank you.”

  He looked up when I spoke. His eyes met mine and he looked at me, a gaze so intense it seemed to burn right through me. It was as if he had something to ask me, something to say. I held his gaze, my eyes darting back and forth between his, willing him to say something. Something nice, that is. I couldn’t take any more of his gruff behavior. I was proud and happy to think that I’d broken through his shell just a little bit in the past few days. Was he one of those guys who was just misunderstood and you just needed to get to know him better? I wasn’t sure, but what I did know was that no matter what someone’s circumstances, nobody had a right to be mean and ugly to someone else just because they were miserable.

  He stared at me a bit longer than was proper, so I set my fork down on my plate, and smiled. “What is it?”

  Keeping his silence, he continued to stare. It was as if the words really, really wanted to come out. His lips stayed clamped in a straight line, his fork still solidly in his hand, but for some reason, he didn’t look very hungry anymore. Finally, he said, “Thank you for last night.”

  My lips twitched in amusement, and I just couldn’t help myself. “It’s been quite a while since a guy said that to me.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, his eyebrows furrowed.

  I leaned back in my chair laughing. I laughed so hard, I almost fell out of it. My stomach hurt and I wrapped my hand around it. “I know. The look. On. Your. Face.”

  My eyes met his dark blue ones once again and I could see a small bit of laughter there. He was resisting a smile now.

  “Come on, that was funny, Cowboy. Lighten up and eat your bacon.”

  He nodded, a genuine smile now transforming his face into the handsome man I sometimes caught a glimpse of. He scrubbed a hand over his beard then picked up a piece of bacon and slowly put it in his mouth. I watched the action with way too much attention. His teeth were pearly white and perfectly straight, not something you’d notice right off-hand because of the beard. I also thought I might have seen a dimple puncturing his right cheek, but it was hard to tell because of the facial hair. His nose was very straight, and again, those eyes of his. I wanted to stare at them forever.

  “Maybe it’s you who should finish eating,” he said in that deep, smoky voice, knocking me out of my daydreams about home and the beaches there.

  I nodded and bit into my bacon, not looking at him but thinking of a way I could get him to take me somewhere. An idea came to me, but he wasn’t going to like it. I finished my food then folded my hands in my lap.

  “I hate to tell you this, but I’m gonna need to go to the store again,” I began.

  His head was shaking before I finished my sentence. “Nope, not gonna happen.”

  I smiled with as much charm as I could and said, “But I need more of my… stuff.”

  “What stuff? Your feminine crap?” He got up and snatched my plate from the table, and carried it and his to the sink. “You got what you needed. We’re not leaving.”

  With more courage than I felt, I said, “No, I ran out. I only got a little bit but, um, I need more.”

  Total lie. Aunt Flow had left town a couple days ago, but I knew this was the only way I’d get this guy to take me into town. I had to get the hell out of this house. And as much as I knew he was meant to be protecting me, I didn’t think there was any way the maniac threatening me had traced us to bum-fuck Virginia. We had no cell phones, or any electronic devices for that matter. We’d paid cash at the Walmart earlier… it wasn’t possible we’d been traced and I had to get the heck out of here.

  * * *

  I refused to call myself a manipulator, even thought that was the word Duke had thrown out a few times. I wasn’t one. Maybe I was extroverted and found my energy by being around people – I’d read something about it in one of the magazines I’d bought at the store when we’d gone. But regardless, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that I’d gotten my way.

  The town was tiny. With only a few stores, a gas station, and few select hardware and fast-food places, there wasn’t much to it. Not that I cared.

  “Get what you need, and make it quick. We can’t afford to be seen,” Duke said as soon as he turned the engine off.

  “Yes, s
ir,” I said, saluting him.

  He rolled his eyes and got out of the car. I waited in the passenger seat for him to come around and open my door. I’d learned early on that he liked to do that. I wasn’t going to fool myself into thinking he was actually a gentleman. I’m pretty sure he did it to control where I went and to guard me from any potential danger. Either that, or he was a control freak, but I sort of didn’t believe that. I chose to believe the former. It helped me keep my sanity. Plus it made him even hotter.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not supposed to find this guy hot. He’s a jerk. Sure he’d softened a little in the past few days, but in no way was I gonna be some stupid girl and believe that anything I’d done had contributed to that. Except kiss him. God, that kiss…

  Instead of going to Walmart, I told him we could find a drugstore. I knew I could buy books there too, and magazines, and a bunch of other stuff to occupy me. He found the only chain drugstore in town, and as he opened my door, he closed it behind me and locked it, then grabbed my hand. He looked around the parking lot before we went inside, the automatic doors greeting us.

  Once we got inside, he kept hold of my hand, his eyes darting around. I led him straight to the feminine products, hoping he’d let go of my hand once we got there. He didn’t. Duke seemed to be on edge a little more this time, and his grip wasn’t hurting me, but it was tight. I reached for a box of pantyliners, because really, it wasn’t like I’d never use them, I’d just pack them in my suitcase and bring them home when I needed them next month. He made a face but didn’t let go of my hand.

  I decided to have some fun with him, and jutted my chin at the end of the aisle. “Sure you don’t need anything? Some condoms or maybe some spermicide?”

  He raised both eyebrows, his eyes widening a little before his face recovered, and he actually smirked. Damn, I was hoping to get more of a reaction out of him. “No, why? Did you have something in mind for them?”

  Crap, walked right into that one.

  So shrugging, I said, “I’m game. It beats sitting around watching TV and being bored. Wouldn’t you say?”