by Rowe, Julie
Kini tried not to move. Her promise held her down, and it seemed to amplify her pleasure.
“Harder,” she ordered. “I’m so close.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“You won’t,” she gasped.
Picking up the pace a little, he gave her what she asked for, and she went over the edge. Pleasure detonated deep inside her, erasing all the pain and exhaustion from her body, leaving only sleepy contentment behind.
As the last ripples went through her, Smoke groaned then gave her several hard thrusts before pressing deep and shuddering over her.
He opened his bright blue eyes. “You okay?”
She couldn’t help but smile at his worry. “I’m awesome.”
He shifted, checked her dressings, then cuddled her close and said, “Sleep.”
The next time Kini woke, she was alone again, but the sound of the shower running told her where Smoke was.
A shower sounded really good and the doctor had told her she could have one as long as it was short and fresh dressings were applied afterward.
Smoke came out of the bathroom then, a towel wrapped around his waist.
She had to bite her lip to stop herself from moaning at the sight of him. Then her gaze reached his face and all the naughty thoughts died premature deaths.
“What’s wrong?” When he didn’t answer right away, just stood near the end of the bed looking at her with a lost puppy expression, she tried to sit up and found she couldn’t.
Smoke was at the bedside a second later, putting a hand on her uninjured shoulder to keep her on the bed. “Stop.”
She grabbed that hand. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. “You looked absolutely broken a moment ago. Why?”
“I shouldn’t have brought you here.” The words landed between them, dead.
“I don’t understand.”
“I thought if I had one more taste I could let you go, live your life, be happy, but the thought of doing it…” He lifted one hand and they both stared at it as it shook. “I’m a selfish bastard for what I’m thinking.”
Things were getting interesting. “Tell me.”
When his gaze met hers, the blaze she saw damn near scorched her. “I want to keep you, look after you, and fuck you until you never want to leave.”
What the hell was going on in his head? “Sounds good to me,” she said. “When do we start?”
He frowned. “It’s not possible. You know it’s not.”
“No I don’t. Unless…” No, she couldn’t believe it of him. “Is there another woman?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m…” He sighed and started again. “There’s a part of me that’s all aggression and anger, and it has a hair trigger. I think I need…” He took in a deep breath and said, “Help.”
“Recognizing that you can’t do it alone is the first step toward healing.” She poked his chest. “You are a good man, Lyle Smoke. I know we haven’t even gone on a single real date, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.” She cocked her head. “Unless this is your version of a gentle brush off?”
His next word burst out of him, “No.”
She raised his hand to her lips, turned it, and kissed his palm. “We have all week to decide how we want to be together, as long as we’re both clear on the fact that we are together.”
He studied her for several seconds, then his eyes grew wide with surprise and joy. “Crystal.”
“Good,” she said, pulling on his hand. “Come back to bed. I don’t sleep well unless I’m sleeping on you.”
He slid back under the covers and under her, the beginning of a real smile on his face. “Yes, ma’am.”
Epilogue
Smoke buried his nose in Kini’s hair and inhaled. He would never get enough of her scent, the softness of her skin, and the caress of her voice as she whispered how much she loved it when his hands touched her.
He needed to let her go, open his arms to allow her to leave. Instead, he tightened his hold.
“I know,” she said softly. “I don’t want to go without you either, but someone has to drive your jeep and all your stuff to Atlanta.”
“Ride with me.” He kept his voice low, but couldn’t keep the growl out of it. He hated the idea that she was taking this flight to Atlanta alone.
“I wish I could.” She pulled away from him, patting his chest as she left the circle of his arms. “Rodrigues needs one of us to work with Homeland Security now. She’s afraid, they’re afraid, there could be multiple incidents of bioterrorism here inside the United States, thanks to Davis and his online shop of evil.” She lifted her chin so she could meet his gaze.
He could look into her eyes for hours, days, years and be happy. Because she saw all of him, and she didn’t shy away from the darker parts of his soul.
“I don’t have to like it,” he said.
She grinned at that and poked his shoulder. “I would have never guessed, oh grumpy one.” She leaned forward and whispered, “The security people here would probably relax a little if you smiled.”
He obligingly flashed his teeth.
She sighed and shook her head. “That’s not a smile, that’s a declaration of war.” She hugged him again, squeezing tight. “I’ll see you in three days. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” he said, attempting to imprint the feel of her body against his. “Stay safe. Don’t overdo it.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, pulled out of his arms, turned, and entered the line to go through security.
Smoke didn’t stay to watch her wind her way through the circuitous line. It wouldn’t help, and it might make him feel even crabbier than he already did.
His jeep waited for him. It was time to go.
He drove back to Small Blind, parking in front of his parents’ home. He walked in to find his grandparents and his cousin Tommy as well as his folks. He told them all he was heading to Atlanta to officially start his new job with the CDC’s Outbreak Task Force. They didn’t pepper him with questions, but it was close. Mostly, they wanted to know how Kini was, and if the two of them were together or not.
His mother, in particular, had a gleam in her eyes that made him wary.
“Don’t go planning the wedding,” he told her. “Kini might decide I’m not worth the work.”
“Lyle Smoke,” his mother said with her hands on her hips. “That’s no way to talk about yourself.”
“Mom, I’ve seen and done some bad shit.”
“So what?”
“So, I’m still carrying that shit around.” He tapped his temple. “Don’t know if I can shovel it elsewhere or if it’ll be there for the duration. No point in pretending otherwise.”
“Does she know about the shit?”
He nodded. She knew, and that scared the fuck out of him.
His mother snorted. “That girl loves you. Give her and yourself time to heal.”
He offered her a small smile but couldn’t help wondering how Kini would feel after a few days apart from him.
…
The drive took two and a half days. He could have arrived faster if he’d driven without stopping, but he had orders from Kini to sleep, so he stopped and slept. Twice.
Just before he entered Atlanta, Smoke called River and gave him his ETA. When he pulled into the CDC’s headquarters and parked, River was waiting for him. His official parking pass, ID, and shit in River’s hands.
He got out of his vehicle, shook River’s hand, and asked, “Kini?”
River grinned, handed him his stuff, and angled his head at the building. “She’s been talking to Homeland Security since she got here. It’s been fun to watch.”
What the fuck did that mean? “Oh?”
“She’s gone up and down them so many ways, they’re damn near covered in tire tracks. A sheriff operating a bioweapon factory inside a government-funded green
house.” River laughed. “I’ve never heard the word ‘incompetent’ used so many times in my life.”
“She’s…okay?” His stomach was oddly unsettled, like he couldn’t decide if he was relieved to hear this news or worried.
“Yeah, she’s fine.” River patted Smoke’s back. “Tired, cranky, but fine.” He started walking. “Come on, Rodrigues wants to see you.”
He sighed. His boss probably wanted to sit and talk. Fun—not.
Rodrigues was a tiny thing, maybe five feet; her hair was pulled back into some kind of knot that looked like something a sailor would tie. Her hair was gray, but her face didn’t quite match. Not enough lines or wrinkles.
“Ma’am,” Smoke said with a respectful nod.
She glanced up from her computer. “Come in, Lyle. River, please check on Kini. See if she and the Homeland agents with her will be finished in about…” She consulted her watch. “Thirty minutes.”
“Will do, ma’am.” He turned and left.
That left him with Rodrigues staring a hole through his head.
“My name is Smoke,” Smoke said after a couple of seconds.
“Yes, sorry, I forgot.” She sighed and muttered something about men and nicknames. “In your professional opinion, is Kini ready to go back to work?”
Professional? “I’m not a doctor.”
“No, but you’ve had extensive first-aid training and your experiences in the army give you a uniquely qualified perspective useful in gauging what people are capable of.”
Sounded like a load of bullshit to him, but if she was giving him a voice on the subject of Kini’s health and safety, he wasn’t going to throw it away. “No. She needs at least a couple more weeks before even considering putting her on desk duty.” There had been so much blood on her, on the ground, too much.
“Are you ready?” The question sounded far away, not in Kini’s voice.
He wrenched himself out of the past, forcing his vision to show him the here and now, rather than one of the nightmares plaguing his sleep.
Rodrigues was watching him, her gaze sharp and focused on his face.
He didn’t know this woman, but River trusted her. Henry trusted her.
He sucked in a breath then stuck out his neck, saying, “No. I need to talk to…” Who could he talk to? It had to be someone who’d gone through similar shit.
Rodrigues smiled, a Cheshire cat smile. “I have just the man. It took some doing, but I finally bribed him away from the El Paso Transit Authority.”
Transit? Then it came back to him. “The drill sergeant who helped River during the terrorist attacks in El Paso?”
“Yes, him.”
“You hired him for his services as a therapist?” Smoke couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. That cantankerous old man had a gold star potty mouth and only one volume setting on his voice: shout.
She laughed. “Not exactly.” Rodrigues studied him for another moment then said, “The Outbreak Task Force is made up of a number of people with different backgrounds. We operate both inside the USA and internationally. We often have to work within cultures that are very different than our own. Many of those cultures offer greater levels of respect and attention to what an older male says versus what a younger female might say. The drill sergeant, or DS as he likes to be called, is excellent at organizing people and situations. He’s also turning out to be a valuable sounding board for many of our more…technically inclined people.”
That was a nice way to say lab rat.
“As well as our military veterans. He’s been with us for a month,” she continued as she picked up her phone and texted something. “But he’s still settling into his office.”
“He didn’t strike me as an office kind of guy,” Smoke said. He’d only met the man once, but that was plenty long enough to get his measure.
“He isn’t,” she said absently. “Thank God he doesn’t mind using his cell phone or I’d never know where he was.” She put her phone down. “He’s on his way.” Rodrigues gave him another long look. “Do you want to be partnered with Kini?” She put up a hand. “Don’t give me the answer you think I want; give me the answer that’s best for you and her.”
She didn’t pull her punches. His preferred kind of commander. “Understood, ma’am, and yes.”
“Why?”
So many reasons, but most of them were none of his boss’s business. “Trust. Respect. Intelligence. Competence.”
She studied him for another moment and said, “Your first task, then, will be to convince her to take the minimum of two weeks to rest and heal. You will be doing the same with her.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said again. That was it?
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come,” Rodrigues said loud enough for the person one the other side of the door to hear.
The door opened and a deep, rough voice asked, “Is this my new recruit?”
Smoke turned. The retired drill sergeant stood in the doorway, an evil grin on his face.
…
Kini’s entire body ached like she’d been sat on by a sumo wrestler. The exhaustion weighing her down didn’t help. She hadn’t slept well since she’d left Las Vegas and Smoke. It took hours for her to go to sleep, then, when she finally dozed off, nightmares terrorized her until panic woke her. That would be it for sleep.
Thank God Homeland Security was done grilling her about what she saw at the drug house that burned down and at the jojoba plant before it burned down. They called it an interview, but it was nothing short of an interrogation. Three agents had questioned her since the hour she’d arrived at the CDC’s headquarters. Almost three eight-hour days ago. Only one of them, Agent Dozer, had made any effort to make her more comfortable while they asked her question after question after question.
Now her only goal was finding Smoke. It shouldn’t be hard. He was in the city. The man had dutifully sent her a text every time he stopped along the route to Atlanta. Texted her with his current GPS coordinates, not the name of the town or even of the highway he was on, just the numbers.
Some men might bring their girlfriend flowers; Smoke told her exactly where he was.
She checked her cell phone for his latest set of coordinates then entered the numbers in the app on her phone. According to the app, she and Smoke were at the same location.
He was in the building.
She sent him a text: Where are you inside CDC HQ ?
He replied: Cafeteria. Coffee. Drill Sergeant.
She’d met the DS before Homeland began its marathon of questions. She liked him. He had a gruff exterior, a good heart, and he’d told her she could chat with him about anything at any time.
She texted back: Incoming. Then made her way to the cafeteria.
It was after one in the afternoon, so the space was relatively empty. Smoke and the DS were seated at a smallish table in the back corner of the room, cups of coffee sitting in front of them.
Both men saw her coming and watched her approach, angling their bodies in a way that signaled welcome. She didn’t walk fast—that was still beyond her ability—so there was plenty of time for Smoke to grab a chair for her before she arrived at the table.
She had to work not to stare at him too long, memorize his features and body all over again. She wanted his big hands on her, caressing her, cradling her. She wanted to touch him everywhere, ensure herself that he was okay.
Jumping the man in the cafeteria probably wouldn’t go over well.
“How are you doing, Miss Kini?” the DS asked, a smile on his face and in his voice.
“Tired and a little sore,” she said, surprised at how out of breath she sounded as she sat down.
Smoke lifted her and her chair, tucking her comfortably close to the table. He returned to his own seat, moving close enough to hers for his knee to come into contact with her thigh.
She met his gaze. “How was the drive?” There, that was a nice normal question.
He stared at her, his gaze hot, h
is body curved toward hers. One of his large hands covered one of her smaller ones, and the heat of that connection raised the temperature in the room by several degrees. “Took too long.” His voice stroked over her skin, deep and rich and full of sexual promise.
“Much too long,” she whispered.
“Ack,” the DS said with a shake of his head. “Love birds.” He held up a stern finger and pointed it at Smoke. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for that run you promised me.”
“He can’t run,” Kini protested. “He has a bullet wound in his calf that’s only a week old.”
“He says he can do a light run, so that’s what we’re going to do,” the DS said. “As for you, missy, I want you to start doing some stretches a couple of times a day. As soon as you’re cleared for exercise, you’re going to join us on our runs.”
“Oh.” That was a surprise. “Um, why?”
“Physical exercise is an excellent way to work out the shit in your head. But that’s just the start. You people working for the CDC, you see and do some seriously dangerous work. Part of what keeps soldiers from losing their shit constantly is the sense of safety and security a team gives you.” He pointed a finger at her then at Smoke. “This lone wolf shit isn’t going to happen anymore. You’re to be part of the team, and you’re going to know your teammates as well, or better than yourself.” He looked at her as if waiting for a response.
“So when we get shit on, we know where to turn for support?” Kini offered.
The DS smiled at her, the smile of a proud father. He looked at Smoke. “You’ve got a smart woman here.” He leaned closer to Smoke and said in a stage whisper, “Don’t fuck things up.”
Smoke turned his head to meet her gaze, held it, and said, “She’s the only woman I want.” His voice rolled over her like hot chocolate. Easing muscles she hadn’t realized were knotted tight at the base of her head and deep in her chest.
The DS left the table, but Kini hardly noticed.
She couldn’t look away from Smoke. His gaze held her captive, giving her something she hadn’t had since before her father had destroyed their family. A place to belong, a person to love, and be loved by in return.