Unstoppable

by Laura Griffin

  “Kelsey—”

  She pulled his head down and kissed him.

  She felt him hesitate for maybe a half a second. And then his arms wrapped around her and he melded her body against him as his tongue swept into her mouth. For days, she’d had romantic fantasies about kissing him, but she’d been wrong. There was no romance here, just a fierce hunger that thrilled her right down to her toes.

  An ache spread through her and she pressed against him, loving the taste of his tongue and the hardness of his body and the surprising softness of his hair between her fingers. He eased her back against a rock, protecting her head with his hand as he held her in place and continued to kiss her as if he’d never get enough, as if he couldn’t stop. Something had snapped in him. And she realized that cool disinterest he’d shown her these past few days had been an act. He’d been burning, just like she had. She wished she’d known. She wished she could see his face. She wanted to see the fire in his eyes as he finally let her in on this secret he’d been hiding.

  She slipped her hands into the pockets of his jeans and pulled him closer, as close as she could get him. She ground her hips against him and heard the low groan deep in his chest.

  He pulled back. “Kelsey—”

  She rose up and kissed him again, just in case he was crazy enough to put the brakes on. Something about her uncle. Or her honor. Or some other such bullshit that she didn’t want to hear right now.

  He pulled back again. “Kelsey, we can’t.” His voice sounded strained.

  “Why can’t we?”

  He slipped her hands out of his pockets and eased back. “Look . . . I like you.”

  Her blood went cold. “Don’t say it.” She turned away. God, if he used the word “friend” she was going to scream.

  “If circumstances were different—”

  “Let’s just go.”

  He took her arm and she shook him off. Then she walked away from him, as far as she felt comfortable. It would be just her luck to take a wrong step and tumble off the cliff. She felt mortified. Look, I like you. Who was he trying to convince?

  “Can we get back, please?” she asked. “I’m freezing here.”

  In the darkness, he muttered a curse. He walked over to her, hooked her hand onto his belt as it had been before, and set out for camp.

  Kelsey was still shaking when she whipped her battered Chevy Suburban into the parking lot of the Madrone Hunting Lodge. Fear, embarrassment, anxiety—plus a major dose of adrenaline—were knocking around in her system, making it nearly impossible for her to focus on the task at hand. After enduring an extremely awkward car ride, she now had to relay tonight’s discoveries to the sheriff. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t have come up with a worse, more inappropriate time to throw herself at a man.

  “Aw, shit,” Gage said—his first words in half an hour.

  The night manager was just switching off the light above the reception desk as Kelsey pulled into a space. Before she’d even parked Gage jumped out of the Suburban and rushed for the door.

  Kelsey collected her overnight bag from the backseat and cast a worried look around the full parking lot. Dr. Robles had left a note saying he’d be staying here, and she hoped to hell he hadn’t gotten the last room.

  A black Explorer on the far end of the lot caught her eye. In the back window was a university parking sticker. Kelsey slammed her door and walked toward the vehicle, a dizzying combination of relief and anger flooding through her. She stopped in front of room 109 and pounded on the door.

  A light went on. Shuffling. A curse as someone stumbled over something. Then the blinds parted and Jeannie peered through the gap. She unlatched the door.

  “Dr. Quinn.” Her eyes widened as they took in Kelsey’s sodden clothes. “Oh my God you’re bleeding.”

  Kelsey nodded at the man sprawled out on the bed amid the rumpled sheets. Dylan didn’t even stir. “Where’s he been all night?” Kelsey demanded.

  “Here with me. And everyone.” Jeannie looked sheepish. “See, after our fight? He drove into Marathon to shoot some pool. He came back, though.” She smiled apologetically. “We tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, so—”

  “The next person to leave the dig site without signing out will receive an F for the summer. Do you understand?”

  She nodded silently.

  “Tell your boyfriend.”

  Kelsey turned and strode back to the lobby, practically vibrating with fury. If anyone so much as looked at her crosswise she was going to explode.

  Gage stepped through the front door of the motel and spotted her. Then his gaze shifted over her shoulder and he no doubt spotted the black Explorer.

  “Dylan’s back,” she said crisply. “Guess it was someone else’s SUV I saw earlier.”

  He handed her a room key and frowned. “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Mind if I borrow your car? I need to run an errand.”

  “Knock yourself out. Good night.” She tossed the car keys at him. He caught them one-handed and she stormed off. The clunky wooden key chain was shaped like a deer and had the number 102 painted on it. Terrific. Right by the lobby, where she’d be sure to get plenty of traffic noise at six a.m.

  Kelsey let herself into the room. It smelled like must and pineapple, of all things. She switched on a lamp and threw her bag on the ugly yellow bedspread.

  At least Dylan was safe. One potential heart attack down, one to go. Kelsey rummaged through her bag until she found her cell phone. Of course, it had no charge from sitting useless for weeks on end. She jammed the charger into an outlet by the bed and dialed Sattler’s number with the cord plugged in. Four rings. Five. Kelsey toed off her Nikes and kicked them across the room. Finally, on the seventh ring, a deputy picked up. After a brief hesitation, he gave her Sattler’s home phone number, along with the warning that the sheriff didn’t like to be bothered at home unless it was an emergency.

  Kelsey stripped off her soggy T-shirt and tossed it on the chair. She dialed Sattler with one hand while searching through her bag for some dry clothes. She still had the shakes, and she wondered whether discovering a covert border crossing and having her ass nearly shot off by men with machine guns constituted an emergency in Seco County. Apparently it did.

  “I’ll get out there first thing in the morning, have a look around.”

  The sheriff’s patient drawl grated on her nerves.

  “Are you sure that’s the best approach?” she asked him. “I mean, shouldn’t you call Customs and Border Protection or something?” She pulled off a bloody sock and tossed it in the trash can, along with its nonbloody mate. “It seems evident that these roadside deaths might be related and—”

  “Why don’t you let us worry ’bout that? You stick to your bones.”

  Kelsey managed not to hurl the phone across the room. “I’m only suggesting that—”

  She heard a noise and turned around to see the door opening. Her pulse leapt as Gage stepped into the room, pulling a key from the lock.

  “We’ll take care of it, Dr. Quinn. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  The phone went silent in her hand. Gage tossed her car keys on the table and leaned back against the door. His gaze met hers across the king-size bed.

  “That was Sattler.” Her pulse pounded as she clicked off the phone and put it on the nightstand. “He’s going to check out the tunnel tomorrow morning.”

  He pushed away from the door and moved toward her. She read the heated look in his eyes and her stomach did a flip. She stepped back, bumping into the wall, and for the second time tonight she felt foolish.

  He stopped in front of her and just stood there, silently. She couldn’t talk. Her chest was rising and falling much too quickly, and her legs suddenly felt like noodles.

  His gaze dropped to her wet white bra, then lifted. “If you want me to get another room, tell me now.”

  She didn’t say anything. He lifted a hand to her neck and rubbed his thumb over the lin
e of her jaw.

  Kelsey opened her mouth but she couldn’t talk. His hand trailed down, lightly, and then the warmth of it closed over her breast. He dipped his head down and kissed her mouth, once, twice, three times, as his thumb traced her nipple.

  “Kelsey?”

  She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him against her.

  His body was hard, warm. And she didn’t realize how cold she’d been until he started rubbing the heat back into her with his hands and his mouth. He touched her shoulders, her arms, her hips, filled his hands with her breasts. He kissed her ear, the side of her neck. He trailed kisses down her throat, and she tilted her head back to give him a better angle.

  “I need a shower,” she managed to say.

  “Not yet.” His hands went around to unhook her bra and then he shoved it aside. His mouth closed over the tip of her breast, and the hot burst of pleasure made her moan and press against him. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, and just when she thought she was going to melt into a puddle he lifted his head and found her mouth again.

  There was an urgency to his touch now. He kissed her deeply, hard, and she tightened her arms around him and tried to give as good as she was getting. It was the way he’d kissed her earlier—raw and uninhibited—and she wanted him to keep kissing her like that and never stop. Her bra fell to the floor. She felt his hand at her waist, unbuttoning her shorts, and then they slipped to her feet, and she stepped out of them, never breaking the kiss. She reached for his shirt and pulled it from his jeans, and then he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet so he could walk her backward the few steps to the bed. They bounced onto it together and she yelped.

  He covered her mouth with his and pressed his weight into her, and she twined her legs around him and squeezed. He dove for her breasts again, and she held his head in her hands, letting her fingers curl into his hair as he licked his way down her body.

  She heard a low groan of approval and propped herself on her elbows.

  “Red,” he said, shaking his head and staring down at the bottom half of the only girlie clothes she’d packed for the summer.

  “Sorry. Haven’t done laundry in a while.”

  He glanced up at her. “Do not apologize.” He kissed his way down her legs, then back up again, lingering over the lace with his warm breath. She closed her eyes and lay back, and then she felt him stripping that away, too.

  She sat up and looked at him, feeling self-conscious. He was fully clothed, and she scrambled to her knees so she could balance things out. They knelt together on the bed, and she helped him off with his T-shirt. It was wet and cool, like hers had been, but the skin beneath it was smooth and warm. She sat back on her knees to marvel at his perfect chest, and she realized she was looking at the evidence of countless hours of pain and hard work and training, and suddenly her throat tightened. He was a soldier. He would leave soon. He was going to get on a plane and go somewhere and he might never come back.

  His hand combed into her hair. He tilted her head back to look at him. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  He leaned her back on the bed again, and then the urgency returned, and she put everything out of her mind except the feel of his mouth on her and the hard, heavy weight of him between her legs. The bedsprings creaked as she wrapped herself around him and pulled him closer, and she sighed at the bittersweet pain of him pressing against her.

  “Oh, man,” he said huskily.

  She rolled her hips, teasing, and he propped up on his hands and smiled down at her in the lamplight.

  “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? I haven’t done this in a while.”

  She felt a surge of happiness. A smile and a personal admission all in one moment. “You going to embarrass yourself?”

  He huffed out a laugh, and she saw the strain on his face. She loosened her grip on him and he stepped away from the bed to peel off his wet jeans. Her stomach fluttered as she watched him. Oh, God. She was the one who was going to embarrass herself. He dug a condom out of his pocket and put it on, all the while watching her. Was that the errand he’d run? Suddenly his rejection at the dig site stung a little less.

  He knelt between her legs, and then he was kissing her again, and she tasted his desire for her and none of it mattered, not his leaving or that this relationship was going nowhere. She just wanted to give herself to him and take whatever he had to give her in return.

  As she opened herself up for him, their gazes locked and he pushed inside her. He watched her—his face taut—going slowly at first, and then harder, faster. Then his eyes drifted shut, and she wrapped her arms around him and urged him on with her hips.

  “Kelsey, baby—”

  She squeezed tighter. She lost her mind in a white-hot blaze of pleasure that went on and on and on until she thought she would die. And he held her through it, and then finally, amazingly, he gave a last powerful push and collapsed on top of her.

  The moment stretched out. Neither of them said anything. Kelsey wasn’t sure she could. She felt spent, boneless, too wasted to move. So she lay there with her heart thrumming underneath his and kept her eyes closed. Finally he lifted his weight off her and she took a deep breath.

  He rolled onto his back and pulled her with him.

  “They gave you a key,” she murmured.

  “I gave you a key.” He tucked her head under his chin. “It’s my room.”

  She gazed up at the meandering crack in the ceiling. This place was a dump, and yet she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Maybe it was the way he seemed so comfortable, lying there with his arms around her. Or maybe it was the way her head fit so naturally against his collarbone. She never wanted to leave.

  “You finally stopped shaking.”

  She tipped her head back to look at him. “You warmed me up.”

  He ran his hand over her hip and she closed her eyes.

  “I get them, too, sometimes. The flashbacks.”

  She opened her eyes, shocked. She never would have expected him to bring that up again, and definitely not while they were naked together for the first time. She waited for him to go on but he didn’t.

  “Iraq?” she asked.

  “Afghanistan, mostly.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, one particular night in Afghanistan.”

  “What happened?”

  Seconds ticked by, and the room was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioner.

  “I got my teammate killed.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest, waiting. She couldn’t ask.

  “I did something impulsive. In the moment, you know?” He paused. “It didn’t go like I’d planned, and pretty soon Adam—that was his name—he’s lying on the floor of the helo with his face half blown off, screaming for his mom. I swear to God, I’ll never forget the sound of it.”

  She covered his hand with hers and squeezed it. Neither of them spoke as she listened to Gage’s heart beat. Images of him on the floor of some helicopter crowded her mind. For the first time, she understood why Joe had never been married. What woman could live with that sort of fear hanging over her head?

  Kelsey’s chest constricted as she realized what a terrible, irreversible mistake she had made. She’d let herself fall for a man who had the power to rip her to shreds. Even if by some miracle he didn’t push her away when the job was over, he could still do it. Without even wanting to, he could still break her heart.

  Gage waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Even more surprising, she didn’t pat his hand and start spouting platitudes about not blaming himself and time healing all wounds or some of the other crap he’d heard over the past three months. She just listened. He knew she was listening because he could feel her body tense under his hands.

  He tried to imagine Kelsey at work in Iraq, digging up women and children and elderly people who had been executed by their own government. He didn’t know a lot of people who’d sign up for a job like that.

 
“So”—he cleared his throat—“do you ever talk to anyone about it?”

  “Not really. What about you?”

  “Not really.”

  “I had some friends while I was there,” she said. “One friend, really. I talked to him some. He was on a counterterrorism task force, so he’d seen things. He understood.”

  Gage wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this but he persisted anyway. “You talk to him anymore?”

  “Not a lot.” She sounded guarded now and he knew he’d guessed right. This was an intimate friend. “We run into each other every now and then, but it’s not the same. Our relationship more or less ended when I left.”

  He filed that away for later. How did she run into him still if the relationship was over? A sour ball of resentment formed in his stomach. Which was crazy, he knew. How could he be jealous when she wasn’t even his girlfriend? This thing was temporary, and they both knew it, so why should he care who the hell she ran into “every now and then”?

  She sat up. “I’m going to take that shower now. Want to come?” She gave him a look over her shoulder that made his just-returning-to-normal pulse kick up again. Then she turned to face him, emphasizing the invitation with a view of her lush breasts.

  He sighed. “How did I ever mistake you for skinny?”

  She scowled at him and swung her legs over the side of the bed. He caught her around the waist.

  “I meant that in a nice way.”

  “That was so rude.” She swatted his hand. “You are not invited into my shower!”

  He scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom, ignoring the way she pounded his chest.

  “I’m serious!”

  “My room, my shower.” He put her on her feet in the tub, then climbed in with her. Blocking her exit with his arm, he reached over and turned on the water, and she squealed as an icy spray shot down from the faucet.

  “Gage!”

  He silenced her protest with a kiss, not letting her up for air until the water flowed hot and her arms draped over his shoulders and she was completely convinced of how attracted he was to her very amazing, unskinny body.