by Leslie North
“Honey,” he said, grinning as he took her hand again to pull her up and into his arms. “We’ll keep the door open, but no guarantees on the quiet part.”
Leila couldn’t get enough of him. They fumbled their way down the hall, touching and laughing and kissing along the way.
Desperate for more, she took off her top as soon as they stepped into the bedroom and flung it aside before tugging up Clint’s T-shirt, the soft blue cotton obscuring his heated gaze as she pulled it over his head, then tossed it away to land on the floor near her top. Next went her bra, leaving her deliciously naked from the waist up. He cupped her breasts gently, flicking his thumbs over her taut nipples and making her groan with need.
She leaned in to kiss him again, deeper this time, filled with urgent want. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips, grinding the heat between her legs against his stiff cock. It had been so long since she’d let anyone inside her defenses in this way, so long since she’d even wanted to. And yes, it was bad timing. Awful, really, but dammit. For once, she didn’t want to deny herself this pleasure.
The desperation within her grew so strong that by the time they reached his bedroom, all she could think about was getting those clothes off of him and ravishing him silly. Impatient, she removed her jeans and panties, then helped him do the same, always kissing or licking or nuzzling whatever part of him she could reach with her lips and tongue. Clint groaned low and feral in his throat and it was like a lit match to the gasoline of need in her blood.
“Hey,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and pulling back slightly, enough to meet her gaze, their breath panting between them, her hair clinging to his sweat-damp skin. “Leila. Are you sure this is what you want?”
More than anything in this world.
In answer, she nudged him backward a step until the backs of his knees connected with the edge of mattress, knocking him off-balance and sending him sprawling onto the bed. He gazed up at her, his blue eyes wide with surprise and molten heat. Leila grinned down at him, moving between his spread thighs, one dark brow cocked. “Condom?”
Clint swallowed hard, hiking his thumb toward the nightstand drawer. “In there.”
She took out one small foil packet and tore it open with her teeth, then put it on his beautiful cock. The warmth and weight of him against her palm felt exquisite and she couldn’t resist bending down to place a kiss on the tip of his erection before straddling his hips. She hovered there above him, her slick folds just grazing the top of his cock, rocking slowly to pleasure herself. His eyes closed and his head fell back, his expression going lax with the incredible sensations racing between them.
Leila focused all her attention on the man beneath her, the man she intended to ride all the way to her climax and back again. Man, he was so beautiful. All those muscles, all that hot, smooth, tanned skin. And scars, covering the left side of his torso. She’d be asking him about those. Later, when those blue eyes of his weren’t watching her, wanting her, worshipping her.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she positioned his cock at her wet entrance, then sank down on him, allowing her body time to adjust to his size. He filled her so completely, Leila imagined she could feel him grazing her cervix. So good. So, so good. Gently, she took all of him inside her then rested a moment, just enjoying the connection with him before rocking upward, starting a rhythm that had him hitting all the right spots within her and pushing them both closer to the edge.
“Sweet Jesus, honey,” Clint moaned, one hand holding her hips steady, while the other reached up to tease her taut nipples. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.”
“I know.” She winked down at him, then leaned forward to kiss him deeply. He tasted of alcohol from their dinner and sinful desire. “I want this. I’ve wanted this since the first moment I saw you.”
“Yeah?” He squinted up at her, a slow grin forming on his full lips. “Well, you got me, honey.”
“Yes, I do.” Words escaped her then as she zeroed in on the pure pleasure coming from her movements atop him, the sensual slide of his flesh within hers, the groans she was holding back to keep from bringing down the house around them.
Soon, they each drew closer to orgasm. Clint raised up on his elbows and she bent forward slightly to kiss him again, letting him rock up into her and guide her movements. He swallowed her cries of need and answered them with his own. Tightness coiled inside her to unbearable levels. Clint slipped a hand between them to stroke her most sensitive flesh and boom! That was all it took. Behind her closed eyes, fireworks exploded inside Leila. She fell forward into him, her breasts rubbing against the crisp hairs on his pecs as her body convulsed around him. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her and Clint thrust harder inside her, his movement growing more erratic until he too froze, coming deep insider her, his face resting against her throat, his warm breath fanning her skin.
A short eternity later, they collapsed back onto his bed, a tangle of limbs. He gently withdrew from inside her, and though her eyes were closed, she could hear him taking care of the condom before rejoining her on the bed. Leila felt more relaxed than she could ever remember. She was unable to stop smiling. Yes, her day prior to this had been crappy. Yes, her maniacal ex was still out there somewhere, ready to strike. But for this moment, this one brief moment, all seemed right with her little world. Normally, that would scare her, put her on alert. At present, she was too tired to care.
Leila had just closed her eyes and started to drift off when Thomas called down the hall, “Mama!”
Clint chuckled beside her. He leaned over and kissed her briefly before pushing off the bed. “You stay here, honey. I got this.” He tugged on his jeans and started out of the room, then turned back, giving her a heated perusal. “You are so damned sexy.”
She peeked open an eye and grinned at him. “You aren’t so bad yourself, papi.”
9
The next day after work, Leila and Clint rode over to the day care to pick up Thomas. Rush hour traffic was heavier than usual, and the going was slow. She gazed out the window, then over at him. He’d been pretty quiet since they’d slept together the night before and it made her nervous.
Perhaps she’d been too bold with him, though he’d seemed on board with her taking charge last night. Mike had never allowed her to revel in her own pleasure. He’d been far too selfish and controlling for that. It hadn’t been until she’d gotten away from him and out on her own that she’d been able to fully accept who she was—a proud, confident, Latina woman who didn’t need to depend on a man to give her what she wanted.
She’d thought Clint understood that, thought maybe he even liked her more because of it, but maybe she’d been wrong. With the silence pressing in on her from all sides, she searched for something to talk about. Her mind hit on something she’d been curious about the night before. She cleared her throat and asked, “Where did you get them?”
“What?” Clint frowned over at her, his expression confused.
“The scars.”
He blinked at her a moment then stared straight ahead again, inching forward in the line of traffic. Obviously it was a sore spot with him and she wished she could take the question back, but it was too late now. Finally, he said, “Kandahar. During a rescue mission. I was trying to pull a squad mate out of the line of fire when an IED went off.”
“I’m so sorry.” She reached over and put her hand on his thigh. “That must’ve been horrible.”
Clint gave a sad snort. “Worse for my friend. He didn’t make it.”
“I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled over at her and her whole world brightened. “It was a long time ago. I’ve come to peace with it. Shit happens.”
“Yeah, it does.” Leila swallowed hard as they turned into the lot at the day care at last. “I’m still sorry. I know what it’s like to live with the pain of failure. I sometimes feel like I’ll never be enough, you know? After the awful things my father did to me. The
n the whole sordid mess of my marriage to Mike. God.” She covered her eyes with her free hand and shook her head. “I wonder sometimes if I’m even fit to be a mother, after what I’ve been through, after the choices I’ve made.”
“Hey, honey.” He pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine, then undid his seatbelt and leaned over to kiss her gently. “You’re a great mom. Never, ever doubt that. Thomas is a very lucky little boy to have you in his life.”
She leaned her forehead against his. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for everything you went through in your past, everything that hurt you. But I’m not sorry about last night.”
“Me neither. And I don’t regret my past.” He smiled and kissed her again before pulling away. “It’s what made me who I am today and brought me to you. Now, let’s go get Thomas.”
She wiped her eyes and checked her reflection in the mirror on the visor before walking into the reception area of the day care with him.
“Hey, Sarah,” Leila said to the receptionist. “We’re here to pick up Thomas.”
“Sure.” The older lady stood. “He’s a popular kid today.”
Leila’s blood froze in her veins and she glanced over at Clint, who’d stiffened as well. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re the second person who’s come in to see him today.” The woman led them around the desk and back into the locked, secured play area.
“Someone else came to see my son?” The words seemed to get stuck in Leila’s throat, nerves constricting her vocal cords. “I gave explicit instructions with the staff not to let anyone in.”
“Oh, we didn’t let him see your son,” the woman reassured her as she swiped her key card and a tiny red light on the door lock switched to green. “But he did ask for Thomas by name. I thought you should know.”
Bile burned the back of her throat and her feet seemed stuck in cement. As if sensing the chaos now roiling inside her, Clint stepped into the play area and picked up Thomas.
“Thanks for not letting anyone else in,” he said to the woman, then took Leila’s hand and tugged her back toward the front doors. “Have a good evening.”
Leila followed him back out into the parking lot, her mind whirling and her steps clumsy. Obviously, Mike knew where to find Thomas during the day. What would he do with that information? What if Mike took her son? What if he ran off with him and she never saw Thomas again? What if all of her efforts, the shooting lessons, the moves, the security, wasn’t enough? While Clint got Thomas loaded into his car seat, Leila just stood there, frantic.
“I should go.”
“We’re leaving now, honey. Please don’t panic. We’ll talk about this when we get home,” Clint said to her over his shoulder. “Get in the truck.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean Thomas and I should go. Leave Vegas. Leave the country and go to Puerto Rico to stay with my mom. It would be best for us. Best for you too. We should’ve left as soon as Mike got out of jail.”
Clint finished with Thomas then walked over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to meet his gaze. “Stop it. You’re not thinking straight. You need to get in the truck and out of the open. Then we need to get back to my place. We’ll talk about all this there, okay?”
Numb, she got into the truck and buckled into her seat. The ride back to his house passed in a blur of terror and recriminations. Funny how such an ordinary day could turn on a dime with one appearance from her ex.
The moment all the colour had drained from Leila’s beautiful face back there at the day care, Clint’s gut had twisted. This was bad. Very, very bad. He ushered them inside his house and took Thomas from her shaking hands, hoping to calm them both down. Her nervous panic seemed to be rubbing off on the normally good-natured boy, who was now fussing and crying, his little cheeks flushed and damp with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey big guy,” Clint said, bouncing the little boy in his arms as he carried him to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Because I’m starving.”
Thomas blinked at him, his long dark lashes glittering with moisture and wailed anew. Perfect. So now Clint wasn’t just a failure at keeping them protected. He was a failure with kids too. With a sigh, he put Thomas in his highchair, then set about finding something to make them for dinner. Because of the upset at the day care, they hadn’t stopped to pick anything up as he’d originally planned.
Luckily, there was a package of chicken breasts thawed in the fridge and the makings for a salad. There were even a couple of slices of apple pie left over from his favourite local diner, Irma’s Pie House. While he cleaned and prepared the food for grilling, Clint couldn’t help glancing over at Leila every so often. She’d slumped down onto the sofa in the living room and was currently staring at the blank TV screen across from her, her expression troubled and her dark eyes sad.
Thomas and I should go…Leave Las Vegas. Leave the country…
Those words slashed through him like a scalpel and he berated himself for thinking this relationship would be different, that this one would last—unlike all the previous ones in his life. He’d been an idiot since the day Leila and Thomas had walked into his gun range and she’d asked for his help. Stupid for letting them deeper and deeper into his life and his heart when he damned well knew better. People left. That’s exactly why he chose not to get attached. When things got messy or difficult, people bailed. His foster parents. His previous girlfriends. Hell, even himself. It was always the same, no matter how he might have wished this time would last.
After prepping the chicken and potatoes, he carried it all to the patio doors. “I’m going to throw these on the grill.”
Leila didn’t turn at all. Just nodded, still staring down at her toes.
She was pulling away from him already.
Good. Fine. That’s what needed to happen. They’d shared one incredible night together. Nothing more. The sooner he got his head out of his ass and remembered that, the better. He needed to keep his heart out of this equation and his head in the game to protect them from her ex.
But as he stepped out into the cooler night air and fired up the gas grill, Clint couldn’t seem to shake off the ache in his chest when he thought about Leila and Thomas walking out of his life forever.
10
Later, after dinner, Leila sat across from Clint at the table and toyed with the dessert in front of her. Usually, she was a girl with a big appetite, but tonight Mike and his stalking had ruined what hunger she’d had. She poked a piece of apple with her fork and swirled it around in a little puddle of cinnamon-flavoured goo. Poor Clint. She felt bad for dragging him into all this. Felt bad about messing with his life and his feelings. Felt bad for pretty much everything at this point.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last, sighing.
Clint looked up at her, halting mid-bite, and frowned. “For what?”
She gave a dismissive wave, her fork glinting beneath the light over the table. “For all of this. Mike’s a violent man and I never should have brought that kind of trouble into your life. I know you faced danger in the military, but it’s different to have it here in your home. You don’t deserve to have any of this mess land on your doorstep.”
He watched her for a few seconds, chewing slowly then swallowing. Clint sat back and narrowed his gaze. “What makes you think I’ve never been in trouble before?”
Now it was her turn to stare at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You’re like a boy scout compared to Mike. You were a SEAL, a decorated military veteran. You own a business. You help protect people. Nothing that sounds like trouble there.”
“I wasn’t always such a good guy though,” he said, toying with his bottle of ale while Thomas spouted gibberish to the stuffed rabbit he was playing with. “We don’t know each other that well, but when I was younger, I did my share of bad things around here.”
“Really?” She raised a brow at him, her tone doubtful. “Sorry. I can’t see it.”
“Ask any of the judges in town who were
on the bench back then. They’ll tell you.” Clint shook his head and picked at the label on his bottle. “I was acting out. Seething with rage and rebellion and pain over my parents’ deaths and being in the system. I vandalized a bunch of public properties. Almost burnt a house down setting off fireworks inside. The only reason I considered going into the Navy was because the last juvie court judge who sentenced me sat me down and explained it was either that or jail.” He shrugged, the tiny movement tugging at her heart. “I took the military. Best decision I ever made. It helped me turn my life around. But not everyone’s so lucky. If that judge hadn’t talked to me that day, who knows how I would’ve ended up. I could’ve just as easily gone down the same path your ex did. I’m not condoning what he’s done, but I can understand how it happens.”
“No.” She stood and took her dishes to the sink. “You’re nothing like Mike. Nothing. He’s a selfish, self-centred, hurtful bastard. I won’t believe you’re like him. I can’t.” She turned on the water and rinsed her plates, even as her vision blurred.
Because if you’re like him, then everything I feel for you is wrong. And if I still can’t trust myself and my instincts, even after everything I’ve learned, who can I trust?
Well, shit.
Clint hung his head and stared at the table top. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. He’d only wanted her to know that he wasn’t perfect. No one was. That he’d made mistakes too, but he’d overcome them. At least most of them.
He exhaled slowly. “You’re right.”
“What?” Leila said, not looking at him as she closed the dishwasher.
“I said you’re right. Other than having issues in my past, I do try to be a better person now.” He rocked back on the rear legs of his chair, a nervous habit he’d picked up in his youth. “The hardest part for me is my temper. I still lose it sometimes, but I can feel when it’s happening and most times, I can stop myself from blowing up. I’ve never taken that anger out on anyone though, so don’t worry about that. I’d never hit a woman or a child. I saw enough of that in foster care.”