Blind Trust: A Military Romantic Suspense (Men of Steele Book 6)

by Gwen Hernandez

  He lowered her knee and tugged her jeans and panties over her butt, freeing one leg. Attacking his own pants, he pushed them down to his hips and shifted onto his back. “You wanna do the honors?”

  Trembling, she reached for him in the darkness, sliding her palm up the hard length of him, so smooth and hot and pulsing with life.

  He groaned and pressed into her hand. “You’re killing me, Linds.”

  Power surged in her. Right now, this spectacular, powerful man was desperate for her touch, for her body. As desperate for her as she was for him.

  With shaky hands, she rolled on the condom.

  “Come here.” He grabbed her hips and urged her to straddle him, but didn’t pull her down. Instead, his clever fingers returned to the magic spot between her thighs.

  Heat skated across her skin in waves, and light sparked behind her eyelids as she rode his electric touch, her muscles tensing, the breath sputtering in her lungs. Bliss rushed through her blood as she broke, a tsunami of ecstasy that wrung a tortured cry from her lips.

  Still riding high, she lowered herself onto Todd’s straining erection, groaning as he filled her body.

  A deep rumble hummed in his chest and he tightened his grip on her hips, encouraging her to ride him hard. She happily obliged, letting loose like never before, giving over to the wildness of the moment, her heart unfurling with every intense stroke that touched her deep inside.

  Todd made her feel…everything. Joy, freedom, sorrow, hope, courage.

  Love?

  Her eyes popped open as she came again in a heart-stopping rush, but all she could see was the dim silhouette of him beneath her, his head thrown back, vulnerable, exposed.

  For her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TODD WAS STILL trying to catch his breath after the most intense orgasm of his life when something cool and wet plopped onto his chest.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  Was the tent leaking?

  Above him, Lindsey inhaled a shuddery breath. In the dark, he could just make out her swiping at her face.

  Oh, shit.

  “Hey.” He sat up, lifting her free so the condom wouldn’t have been in vain, and set her gently on his thighs, already missing the tight clench of her hot body. “What’s wrong?”

  She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in the crook of his neck. “Nothing.”

  “Did I hurt you?” Please, no. He stroked her back, praying that some of the best sex of his life hadn’t been awful for her, and held his breath.

  “No.” She sat up and held his face in her hands. “I just got a little emotional is all. I didn’t think in the midst of all of this I could experience that much joy.”

  “I didn’t know I could experience that much joy, period.” Oops. Too much?

  Her relieved laugh loosened the sudden tightness in his chest. Her soft kiss had him trying to remember where he’d stashed the rest of the condoms. “You don’t have to say things like that,” she said, sitting up with a sigh.

  What the hell? “Um, no filter, remember?” His pulse hadn’t completely slowed and he struggled to focus because something important was going on. “Especially right now.” He nipped at her lips, finding it difficult to stop. Half-naked together in a forest forever didn’t sound so bad. Reality could go fuck itself. “Did some asshole make you think you weren’t the most fascinating, desirable woman on the planet?”

  She stilled and he sensed her folding in on herself. “All of them,” she whispered.

  “Dipshits. Give me their names and I’ll happily break their kneecaps.” Or worse.

  Her huff of laughter warmed him even as his body cooled. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the feel of her in his arms, the slight rasp of her breath, her smooth curves fitted neatly against his, an unfamiliar feeling coursing through his veins.

  He used his shirt to remove the condom, shoving the bundle out into the vestibule. Reluctant to lose any skin-to-skin contact, he ignored their half-removed pants and wrapped her fully in his embrace, lying back so he could pull the sleeping bag over them. “A tiny part of me wants to thank those dimwits though. If they’d realized what they had, you wouldn’t be here with me, and I’m having a hard time regretting that.”

  Rising onto her elbows, she stared at him in the dark for a long moment and then kissed him like he’d never been kissed before.

  His stomach took a dive. They’d been on the run together for little more than a day and they were already swirling into territory he’d never navigated.

  Sure, he had a tendency to meet a woman and fall fast and hard—including, at one point, for Kurt Steele’s now-girlfriend—but what he’d felt for those women paled in comparison to the inferno that already blazed in his chest for Lindsey.

  Those others had been mere crushes, fun fantasies. This was…well, something more. He wasn’t ready to put a name to it yet—not with all the uncertainty they faced—but it was more than a simple starry-eyed infatuation.

  And the intense need to shelter, protect, and provide went well beyond anything he’d felt for those he’d rescued as part of his job. Even the idea of losing Lindsey made him heartsick. He didn’t know how she could be so important in so little time.

  She just was.

  Fuck.

  Todd put everything he was feeling, everything he couldn’t say, into the kiss. Tasting, caressing, squeezing, entangling.

  When she pulled back, they were both breathing heavy. She laid her head on his chest and absently skimmed his side with her fingers, stoking the embers of desire.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice a little slurred.

  “My pleasure.” The reasons behind her gratitude didn’t even matter. It was all his pleasure.

  He tried to memorize everything. Her wild curls, the faint tickle of her fingertips, the beat of her heart against his chest. He stroked her hair and closed his eyes, his skin cooling, content to serve as her mattress for as long as she’d allow.

  Hours later, she startled in his arms, waking them both.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” Her voice was groggy and confused. “I think I was dreaming, but I don’t remember anything.”

  He stroked her hair, caressed her back, smoothed a hand over her buttocks. “It’s three-thirty. We still have a couple of hours before we need to get up.”

  “I’m not sure I can sleep right now,” she murmured against his chest, one hand slowly trailing down his arm.

  Instantly, he wanted to be inside her more than anything. Sleep could go hang. “What do you want to do?”

  “I have a few ideas.”

  She kissed him and he was lost, rolling her beneath him to keep her warm. They became a frenzy of hands and mouths and puffs of white breath, and he somehow managed to maintain enough sense to wrangle a condom from the small stash in his bag—something he’d need to replenish soon. Hopefully.

  When he entered her, they moaned in unison, finally one in body as much as in spirit.

  Physically, he and Lindsey were crammed into a tiny tent built for one, but mentally, he soared over the forest, careened through the valleys, gasping for breath, his heart ready to explode.

  Magical, transcendent, astonishing.

  Lindsey took him to heights of ecstasy and emotion he’d never experienced, equally scary and intoxicating. The closest he’d ever come to this feeling was during a free-fall parachute jump.

  During those missions behind enemy lines he’d faced literal death. Right now, he sped with glee toward la petit mort.

  Lindsey’s cry of pleasure reeled him back inside the tent, under the sleeping bag, his hands on her luscious skin as she convulsed around him, flinging him off the edge, his mind shattering.

  Holding her as they cooled, he reluctantly pulled out and disposed of the condom, and wrapped her as tightly as she’d allow. The real world was about to creep back in, and he couldn’t shake the fear that if he let her go he’d never get to hold her again
.

  “I don’t want to move from this spot,” she said. “Ever.”

  That made two of them.

  Lindsey woke sometime in the night, still entwined with Todd’s warm body.

  “Everything okay?” he asked softly, nearly invisible in the inky darkness.

  “Perfect.” She snuggled closer, quickly growing attached to the extreme intimacy of being half naked in the dark in the middle of the wilderness with only him. “I’m not sure what woke me up.”

  “My watch alarm went off.” He planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

  “Oh.” She came fully awake then. As much as she might want to lie here forever, Megan waited. “Thank you for remembering to set one.”

  He switched on the red-filtered headlamp he’d hung from a hook above his head. It gave off enough of a glow that they could find their clothing and awkwardly help each other dress while shivering under the covers. He skipped the shirt he’d used for cleanup the night before and donned a long-sleeved technical tee and his parka.

  Once he had his boots on, he moved into the vestibule and unzipped the outer flap. “Whoa, shit.” He pulled back, closed the doorway, and began punching the fabric walls.

  “What’s wrong?” Lindsey asked, poking her head into the small space. Kneeling behind him, she pressed close and encircled his shoulders, just that simple touch spiking her blood.

  He sighed. “It looks like we got at least six inches of snow overnight,” Todd said, squeezing her cold hand. How was he always so warm? “We can dig out enough to take care of business and clear a space to prepare our meals, but we don’t have the gear to hike through this without risking frostbite. Not to mention how unsafe it is if we can’t see the trail.”

  Dismay pushed the breath from her lips. “We’re trapped?” Her body froze from the inside out.

  He turned in the tiny space and wrapped her in his strong arms. “If you want to go back to town, we could probably make it, but I’m not comfortable taking you further into the mountains in this. Especially when we have to find a new way to get to the compound. That’s how people die.”

  “And so Megan has to wait another day.”

  Shifting back, he held her shoulders, his face barely visible in the red light from the main tent compartment. “I’m sorry. But we have no idea if she’s even there, or what her condition is.”

  “You mean she might already be dead.” Lindsey’s throat ached.

  He sighed. “I hope not, but it’s a possibility you need to prepare for.”

  Not a chance. “I’ll deal with it if I have to, but for now, I’d prefer to assume she’s still alive.”

  “Fair enough, but I have to go with what I know for sure.” His voice hardened. “You’re here, safe, with me, and your continued safety takes precedence over rescuing someone who may or may not be where we think, and may or may not be alive.”

  Lindsey felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war. Half of her was ready to march out after Meg the minute the sun emerged and damn the consequences. The other half wanted to hide away in the tent with Todd until the snow melted. Or forever.

  Guilt gnawed at her insides. Both choices had potentially deadly consequences for people she cared about. Todd had quickly infiltrated her heart, and she couldn’t put him at more risk to rescue a woman he didn’t know, who might not even be at their destination. But how could Lindsey live with herself if she didn’t try to get to her friend?

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  His oversized sport watch lit up, briefly illuminating his wrist and casting a faint glow across the hollows of his cheeks and the darkened beard that clung to his jaw. In the dark, she’d forgotten his hair was no longer red. “A little after five-thirty. Dawn won’t break for another hour.”

  “Let’s go out and see how it looks. The weather’s been warm up until now. Maybe the snow will start to melt once the sun rises.”

  “You’re right,” he said, his voice free of the skepticism she expected. “We can reevaluate in the daylight.”

  Those words alone tempted her to pull him closer and declare her undying love. His confidence—true confidence, not the blustering swagger of so many men—was sexy as hell. How refreshing that he was comfortable enough with himself that he didn’t have to appear right in order to appear strong.

  Her brain spun like a whirlpool as she and Todd scooped the snow away from the tent’s opening. Outside, the ground had gone from a dark void to an eerie white blanket that made the entire forest glow.

  “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she whispered, loath to disturb the pristine hush with her voice.

  “Pretty amazing, right?” Todd continued clearing a path several feet from the tent. “I love walking around my neighborhood after it snows, especially at night, when it’s bright like this, the fresh powder still untouched, before the plows and cars make a dirty mess of it.”

  “I don’t know if I’d want to live in this, but it’s incredible. Does DC get a lot of snow?”

  “Not usually,” Todd said, slipping up from behind and wrapping his arms around her.

  She leaned into him, shocked by how easily they’d slid into the smallest intimacies.

  “The most I can remember getting from a single storm is maybe two feet, but that’s not normal. We usually get a couple of inches, maybe eight to ten once every few years. The county dispatches plows to the freeway onramps, ready to drop salt and scrape the roads as soon as the snow starts falling. Unless they’re caught by surprise, the highways stay in pretty good shape and the city streets are usually clear by mid-morning.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “I think the wind is worse. Almost as bad as Oklahoma. ‘Today’s high will be forty degrees with a wind-chill of nineteen,’” he said, imitating a well known TV meteorologist. “‘Bundle up.’”

  “What were winters like in Oklahoma?”

  He set to work heating several scoops of the snow for coffee and oatmeal. “We got a few inches of snow at most, and because it was rare, they didn’t have the resources to deal with it. Even worse was the freezing rain. Everything gets coated in a thick layer of ice. Power lines, trees, cars. It’s beautiful, but deadly.”

  “Yikes. Between that and tornados, I think I’ll stick to the beach. The worst I ever have to deal with at home is fog, the rare earthquake, and people running red lights.”

  He laughed. “I think red light running is universal.”

  He’d know better than her. Part of her envied him for having experienced so many other parts of the world. After all, as much as she’d traveled with her family as a kid, she’d only ever lived in southern California.

  “Where else have you lived?” she asked, gratefully accepting a mug of steaming coffee.

  “Texas, Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, Utah, Arizona. Some of that as a kid when my mom was active duty, some from when I was in the Air Force. I guess Afghanistan, too.”

  She couldn’t even imagine. “How many tours did you have?”

  “Three.”

  How did someone decide to give so much of their life—decide to risk giving their life—for others? She couldn’t help but admire and respect Todd’s sacrifices, even if she didn’t understand them.

  Pop pop pop.

  She froze, her gaze clashing with his. The sharp sounds were distant, but no less frightening for it.

  “Is that gunfire?” she asked.

  His expression hardened. “Probably. From the direction of the compound.”

  “So they’re still there.” That was good news, right? If the men were there, maybe Megan was too.

  “Sounds like someone is.”

  Megan was there. Lindsey could feel it. Somehow, they’d sneak past the armed guards, rescue her friend, and get back to town without being discovered. Then they could focus on getting out of this legal mess once Megan was safe and could tell investigators what had really happened with JJ. Logically, she knew it couldn’t be that easy, but if she let herself stew
over everything that could go wrong, she’d lose her nerve.

  She was as prepared as she could be under the circumstances. And what other choice did she have? She couldn’t count on the police to help them.

  Todd finished preparing breakfast with a frown on his face, clearly deep in thought. They sat close together on a tarp to eat, the hot food and drink warming her from the inside. Around them, the world turned blinding white as the day broke, the snow reflecting the first rays of sun and coating the forest and the floor below in fairy dust.

  The wet fluff wasn’t as thick on the ground as it had been right up against the tent—likely due to the wind—but it was still four or five inches deep. It blunted the features around them, the way a cloth thrown over an ornate chair only revealed its basic shape. Todd wanted to wait a few more hours to head out, but all she could think about was Megan, who’d been stuck with those awful men for more than two days now.

  The oatmeal turned to dust in Lindsey’s mouth. She set the bowl on the ground and looked at Todd. “I have to go after her.”

  He nodded. “We will. Let’s see if some of the snow melts—”

  “No. If we wait until conditions are better, it’ll be better for JJ and his guys to leave too.” She stood and rubbed her parka-clad arms. “I know you think I’m being rash, but I can’t wait any longer. You don’t have to come. I don’t want to put you in extra danger for someone you don’t even know.”

  He rose too, shaking his head. “If you want to go now, we’ll go. It’s not ideal, but maybe it never will be. I’m sure as hell not letting you walk into that compound alone.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  LINDSEY GAPED AT Todd. Maybe his outburst had surprised her. Or his support. Did she really think he’d let her march off after Megan by herself?

  He rubbed his fingers over the knit cap he’d snugged down past his ears. Clearly, she didn’t know him at all. Which, duh. Two days might be enough to start catching feelings, but that didn’t mean they knew each other. Not really.