She tensed, and he knew he’d lost her again. He read her fear. She was afraid something would happen to him.
Do I want to know this?
“There are things you just should not know about. This is what my work is all about, Christy. All the time.”
“Yes. I understand.”
But did she, really?
“So you forgive me for breaking into your friend’s house and listening to his personal messages?” she teased.
He chuckled, grateful for her humor. “No, I didn’t say that.” He paddled her rear in a mock spanking. “I’ll have to punish you further, and…” He scanned her face again. “Make you tell me all your secrets.” He kissed her wanton lips, murmuring to them, “and extracting how you cleverly wound me around your little finger so easily.”
“You’d make me?”
“I could. I’m very good at interrogation,” he whispered in her ear. He followed up with a kiss below her earlobe and felt the rumble of her moan.
“How would you get information from me? How would you make me tell you?”
“I’d improvise. Think of something.” He rubbed his lips against hers, biting her lower lip.
“Improvise?” She arched to press her breasts against him.
“Use things at hand.”
“How would you use these things?”
Kyle smiled. Her naïveté to the ways of the warrior community thrilled him. He stared into her lusty eyes. He wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“I might have to use pantyhose,” he said to her lips.
Christy’s eyes drew wide and she arched again into him, rubbing her sex against his thigh. “You’d tie me up?” she said breathlessly.
Kyle started. Was she asking for this?
She sighed and whispered, “I want you to improvise. On my body. Make me tell you something.”
“Ah.” Kyle searched her face and then decided. He glanced at the floor beside the bed, reached over, and picked up the silk sash from her robe. He drew both her arms above her head while he kissed her underneath her jaw. Holding her wrists together with one hand, he wound the sash around them, binding them gently. Her lidded eyes told him of her pleasure. He wanted to kiss her all over her body.
He could feel her heart beating against him. He felt her moist arousal as he lazily fingered her bud and she moaned into his ear.
“Tell me, or I won’t let you go,” he said.
“I don’t want to go.”
“Yes you do. You want to squeeze your breasts. You want to pull me into you again,” Kyle answered. He avoided her mound searching for his groin.
She started to move her arms down to encircle his neck and he stopped her.
“Bad girl. Tell me how you managed to capture my heart?”
“My name is Christy Nelson. I am a Realtor. That’s all I’m going to reveal at this time.”
“I think you’ll reveal more,” he said as he inserted two fingers into her wet sex.
“Ahh.” She opened her eyes. “No. I won’t tell.” Her breathing was ragged. It looked like she was suppressing a smile.
“You must tell me.” He pushed the head of his cock into the soft folds of her opening.
“Take me, Kyle. I am yours. All of me.”
God, I wish I could have you totally, Christy. What would that be like? He realized he lived and died in her eyes. Could he have this forever?
“Tell me, Christy. Be a good girl and tell me how you manage to bewitch me so that all I think about is making love to you.”
Had he ever said something even close to this before? Holy…
“I think of your hard places. I think of how I can wrap my softness against your hard body and made you need me. I try to get under your skin.”
When he looked her in the eyes, tears had pooled there. If he put himself inside her, he would be lost forever. And that’s what he wanted. He pressed his hand over her bound wrists and plunged into her.
“You have captured me again,” he said as he stroked her insides. Her face was urgent. Her fingers curled into his and squeezed.
“You’re a willing victim.”
She sighed and gripped his thighs tighter with her knees, then opened herself wide again and let him plunge deeper.
“Yes, I am. Indeed, I am.”
Kyle basked in the scent of her spent body. Her breathing had calmed. Was she asleep?
Would it always be like this? With her the world was righted. He knew there wasn’t anything this perfect in reality. But in the fantasy, everything seemed as it should be between them, which thrilled him.
And was so damned overdue.
And now so dangerous, because he’d formed another reason to live. Something he feared losing, like everything else in his life that meant anything.
Something had been lurking outside his consciousness, waiting for a dark moment to rush in. What?
And there it was again.
Life isn’t this perfect. Nothing lasts forever. He remembered being a young boy of fourteen, like it was this morning. All the pain and uncertainty came flooding in.
What have I done?
Christy heard Kyle’s heavy breathing and was thankful he’d fallen asleep. He tossed about, talking in his sleep. No sweet erotic dreams, like the ones she’d been having. His forehead creased and his lips pursed.
Maybe he’s just not used to sleeping with a woman. She remembered the first few times she’d spent the night in a strange bed, in the arms of a lover. Every touch of Kyle’s body heightened her hunger for him. This strong man with arms and shoulders that could hold the whole world cared for her. Quiet and strong. Ever the gentleman, until she got him in bed, and then he consumed her. She’d never known a man who needed so much passion. He demanded her body perform for him and she would do it. Loved doing it. She even loved letting him bind her hands above her head while he pumped her silly.
Last time, he’d brought her to the brink of ecstasy so many times, then had held her and rode the crest of the wave with her. Watching her. Attentive, but unyielding. She doubted she would ever be able to make love to a man again and not think of Kyle.
God, she hoped she didn’t have to try.
She found the warm place beneath his chin and buried herself. Inhaled his musky scent and drifted off to oblivion. Tomorrow she’d worry about the future. Right now, her future lay in the warm body of this man, the one with whom she could easily spend the rest of her life.
Chapter 11
Kyle woke up with a start and couldn’t get back to sleep. He sat in Christy’s living room as the dark night became early morning. He usually loved this time of day. Everything was so quiet, peaceful. He could think better when it was like this.
He should have taken off last night, just left, but that wasn’t the way to treat a lady, and Christy was that, with every luscious inch of her. Could a man be blamed if he wanted to spend just a little more time in her arms? Christy had obviously felt a connection. Hell, he’d felt the connection, too. But that was before common sense took over and he realized he’d made a huge mistake. He had to face the music and fix it. It would be hard, but it was up to him to do the right thing.
He’d come to see her at the realty office three days ago just to say he was sorry. But when he saw her fingertips touch the flowers he’d brought, he’d lost his head and asked her out to lunch. What did he do that for?
You know better than to get involved. You don’t do “relationships.” You get in and get out before they get too attached.
He shook his head. He was indeed a dumb ass. Was he still mourning the most important woman in his life? Could that be why he had such a hard time staying away from Christy? Was he that damaged, that out of control?
His mother died when he was fourteen. She had cancer. The disease had spread quickly and she was gone within weeks, despite the surgeries that tried to stem the tide. He’d told himself this meant she didn’t suffer too much. At least, not until the end. But the speed with which the cancer overtook her
didn’t give young Kyle time to pull together his feelings and say a proper goodbye. It remained an unfinished chapter, and open wound.
Kyle knew he had been the light of her life. He remembered her laugh, how intently she would watch him and cheer at his soccer and baseball games. She was there when he was discouraged. Still, he felt somehow responsible for her cancer, and he would have done anything, even traded places with her to stop it.
He wanted for nothing, although it was clear his father resented having to work so hard and complained about the expensive traveling tournaments, special camps, coaching, and expensive equipment. His mother ran interference, but young Kyle heard the arguments behind closed doors at night. She was devoted to him, almost at the cost of her failing marriage. Kyle’s older sister, just one year his junior, was totally boy crazy and working on getting herself a fast ticket out of the hell that was their family.
He couldn’t remember a single game his father went to—couldn’t remember him ever being even slightly interested in what Kyle was doing. He would come home in a sullen mood and would say nothing at dinner except to pepper the conversation with his irritation, regardless of his wife’s attempts at conversation. His father would drink wine until he fell asleep at the TV. After that, he’d go off to bed early. Some nights when Kyle stayed up to do his homework, he’d get a gentle kiss from his mother before she turned in for bed, but he’d hear her softly cry herself to sleep. It broke his heart.
Light was beginning to shimmer, a deep purple on the inlet. He liked the view of Coronado from this side of the island. It gave him a different perspective on his life in the Navy. He looked at the cold outlines of the destroyers in the early morning light and took strength from the cold, gray shadows they cast on the murky inlet.
The machines and hospital stays his mother had undergone scared him. He was afraid she would never open her eyes again each time he visited her, especially toward the end. She insisted she was getting better, but he could see that was a lie. He realized that nothing he could say or do could protect her, and she slipped away one evening while he was out of town at a soccer tournament. She’d made him promise to go. Told him she’d be stronger next time he saw her.
She died alone. In the dark. He’d been told of her death on a cell phone call from his father. He’d been sitting on the second seat in a Suburban, driven by one of his teammate’s moms, surrounded by seven other sweaty kids.
The bastard couldn’t even wait until I got home to tell me in person.
That night Kyle didn’t say a word to anybody. He stared out at the rest of the world going by, resentment making a home in his chest. How could everything go on just like nothing had happened? He knew he would never heal this loss. She’d been the only one who believed in him.
Things changed at home after his mother’s death. There were no more camps or elite sports teams. Kyle focused on his studies and worked hard to bury the love for his dead mother and the ache of her leaving him. His father became even colder, more distant, and they rarely talked. Kyle hung out at the library or with friends who didn’t play sports. It was a bitter year, and just as he was beginning to feel some hope for the future, circumstances conspired against him.
Kyle had met a nice girl, Judy Dobson, and had asked her to the prom. She was crazy for him, which annoyed Kyle sometimes. But she was a good girl—the pretty one everyone else overlooked because she wore huge, thick glasses. They were going to ride with his older sister and her current boyfriend, but at the last minute, his sister wanted to go alone with her date. Kyle suspected they were going to skip the dance altogether and get a motel room.
He and Judy had barely gotten to the dance when the police arrived, telling him his sister had been in a life-threatening car accident. Kyle spent the rest of the night in the emergency room, in his tux. A friend took Judy home. She’d wanted to stay, but Kyle wouldn’t have it. He and his dad sat across from each other all evening, except for the times when his dad snuck out to the car to drink. They spoke not a word.
Near dawn they got the bad news. His sister was dead.
Kyle thought maybe his father would stop drinking, maybe start taking care of himself and pull things together. But that wasn’t in the man’s nature, and his father retreated further into his alcoholism.
And now Kyle hadn’t talked to him in six years. He considered his dad dead.
At eighteen, the week after he’d graduated high school, Kyle reported to Indoc and joined the Navy, with an eye on trying out for the SEALs. His mom had wanted him to go to college on an athletic scholarship, but that wasn’t in the cards. The Navy took him without any promises, and then he got his chance. One out of a thousand were the odds of being allowed to try out for the teams. But Kyle got his spot. The Navy became his new family, and it served him well.
Armando was in that famous class that almost was a complete washout. Out of the 190 men that started, only twelve graduated. Of the twelve, four were officers, which was unusual. He and Armando were the only ones without a college degree, but they tested higher than the rest. They were closer than brothers.
They would gladly die for each other. That got tested during their first deployment in Iraq when they survived the battle of Fallujah. Their unit ran into more than 259 enemy in a narrow street that wasn’t anything more than an alleyway. They were being shot at from all sides, including above. After the mounted guns ran out of ammo, they used their personal assault weapons. And when those ran out they resorted to their sidearms as they scrambled to a safe spot until the extraction team could get them out. A few good men died that day. A record number of the enemy had been killed, and they’d be up for some medals, which would be awarded in private. His friendship with Armando, forged in steel, would be with him forever.
So, now he’d let this beautiful young thing into his world. She had no idea what she was getting into and deserved way more. What in the hell had he been thinking? He had to stay focused on finding Armando first. This had to remain his number one priority. Besides, his getting her involved in this mission was dangerous for her, too.
How in the world could he have been so stupid?
Christy awoke and felt the bed cold behind her where a warm male chest had been. Being alone this morning, after yesterday’s love making, scared her. She should have been able to start her new day in his arms, where she hoped she would remain until her last breath.
She sat up, naked and a little sore in wonderful places, still groggy from little sleep. Then she smelled coffee, and that made her feel better.
He’s still here.
She rose and put on the flowered kimono-type robe her mother had left her and cinched the sash that brought back wonderful erotic memories. Fluffing up her hair, she looked in the mirror and yes, she looked like “the wreck of the Hesperus” as her mother would say. Mascara pooled under swollen lower eyelids, which covered faintly bloodshot eyes. Her stomach twitched, as if starved for food. But it wasn’t that. She was in love. That new, wonderful feeling that came when she met someone special and the whole world became a possibility instead of an obstacle course.
And Kyle loved her, too. He didn’t say it, but she knew he did. Just remembering those kisses emblazoned on her flesh last night in the moonlight made her wet. God, she’d fallen hard for this guy. She was normally slower to make a judgment about dating someone, but here she’d hopped into bed with him several times in three days. This relationship had started off as a safe lunch, but had became so much more.
Half the time they were having unprotected sex. She was never this casual with her body. Was she being foolish? Was her unbridled passion going to get her heart broken again?
She hoped not, but it wasn’t going to change one iota of the way she would play it out.
God, it would hurt so bad, this one. He’s so perfect for me.
She put her hair up in a ponytail and stepped into her oversized ivory tumbled granite shower. It was what she loved best about this beautiful condo her mother had left her.
She soaped off, used the shower wand to softly stimulate the swollen lips of her sex. It felt good to be exhausted, to have been covered with his hard body, have him breathing and groaning in her ear as he took her. He liked to make love with her hands above her head, the sash forming invisible handcuffs. He’d press her palms to his and wouldn’t let her move except to wrap her legs around his slim waist and arch to receive him, to let him plunder her again and again. And whenever she opened her eyes, he was watching her, as if the look on her face was what fed him and made him the man he was.
Am I up for a man like this? Can I be the woman he needs?
She knew, remembering the first time they had been together when he tripped her to the ground and immobilized her with her own pantyhose, that he was not going to be an easy man to love. He was complicated and secretive. Would she be able to keep him satisfied without getting herself hurt? Was she strong enough for this?
Drying off with the oversized fluffy white towel, she felt courage, and hope for a beautiful new today. Maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but today she could be the woman he needed. Tomorrow would have to take care of itself. And she didn’t want to ponder the “what ifs” any longer.
Showtime. She splashed on a little French cologne, brushed her hair back into a clip, donned her sexy silk robe, then put on light pink cherry lip gloss and a tiny bit of mascara. She could face anything after a shower. Well, almost anything.
When Christy walked into her living room and saw him out on the balcony, bent over her railing, fully dressed, sipping a mug of coffee and looking out over the inlet, she knew today was not going to be a continuation of yesterday’s lazy bedtime caper. There was something hard about him she couldn’t identify. His armor was in place and locked down.
God help her if he said they were moving too fast toward a relationship he wasn’t ready for. Would she have to play the casual game, pretend it didn’t matter? She’d heard all those excuses before, after the dinners and the dating, after the mating dance of a first kiss and the first feel into deep, dark, uncharted waters. Passion plays, all of them. Then came all the reasons why it wasn’t the right time. Half the time, she was the one doing the leaving. And of the ones who had left her, if she were to be honest with herself, she was secretly happy for the ending.
Accidental SEAL (SEAL Brotherhood #1) Page 10