Keeping a Warrior

by Melanie Hansen

  “Holy shit. That makeup sex is gonna be epic.”

  Behind her, Rhys made a strangled noise, his heart thumping wildly against Devon’s back. One of his palms splayed low across her belly, the other wrapped around her ribs just below her breasts.

  He was aroused. Whether from holding her, or watching Matt and Shane, or both, his erection was digging into her hip, and a rush of answering desire swept through Devon in a blaze of heat.

  Slowly, she turned in his arms. Rhys gazed down at her, green eyes glittering, his pulse beating visibly in the hollow of his throat. Her own heart pounding, Devon ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, loving how his breathing roughened even more at the caress.

  Standing on tiptoe, Devon lifted her face as she linked her arms around his neck. The first touch of his lips against hers wrenched a moan from deep inside her. His mouth was warm and eager, yet also tentative, clumsy. Devon pulled back slightly and ran her thumb along his cheekbone, then across his full lower lip.

  “Relax. Kiss me,” she whispered, stretching up to nip him teasingly. When he gasped, she slipped her thumb inside and rubbed it against the rough silk of his tongue.

  This time when he took her mouth, the kiss was deep, and carnal. Devon clutched him, opening to him, their tongues thrusting and parrying, hot and slick.

  He didn’t seem to know where to put his hands. One slid down over her ass cheek, while the other lingered uncertainly on her ribs. Grabbing it, Devon pulled his palm up to cover her breast and pressed it against her. Moaning into her mouth, Rhys pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending a bolt of electricity zinging down Devon’s body straight to her clit.

  “Rhys,” she gasped, undulating against him. “Feels so good.”

  In the very next instant, he tore himself away.

  Reaching for him again, Devon could only stare helplessly when he jumped back out of reach. “What’s wrong?”

  He raked trembling fingers through his hair. “Devon, I—” His voice was husky, anguished. “I—Sex for me has never been casual. I told you I don’t know how to do the single-guy thing here.”

  Childhood friends turned lovers. Had he ever been with anyone else?

  “Hey.” When Rhys’s eyes flew to hers, Devon said softly, “Sex with a friend, with someone you care about—with me—wouldn’t be casual. No way.”

  “No?” He took a step closer, his face solemn. “So tell me what the SF guy said. You’re going to be leaving with him at some point, right?”

  A huge lump rose into Devon’s throat. “Just because it’s temporary doesn’t have to mean it’s casual, you know. They don’t have to mean the same things.”

  With a rueful smile, Rhys reached out to run the backs of his fingers down Devon’s cheek. “Sweet girl, with you, I’d have a hard time separating the two. And to be honest, my heart is pretty fragile right now.”

  “Shit.” Her own heart aching, Devon turned her face into his palm. “The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. But I can’t promise you more than the deployment.”

  “I know.” He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “What I don’t know is if I’m strong enough to handle something with an expiration date.” Dropping his hand, he stepped back, saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

  At that, every last bit of her disappointment drained away.

  “Changing your mind about sex,” she said quietly, “isn’t leading me on. It’s your absolute right.”

  It was a long, silent run back to the base. By the time they jogged to a stop in front of Devon’s barracks, the endorphins had calmed her roiling emotions and the smile she gave Rhys was genuine.

  “Thanks for the company tonight, and the moral support for Matt,” she told him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early. Wheels up, baby!”

  As she turned away, Rhys caught her hand. “Hey. Thanks for understanding.” He squeezed her fingers. “You’re someone pretty special, you know that?”

  Devon squeezed him back. “Right back atcha.”

  Once in her room, she got into the shower and let the hot spray soothe her aching muscles, her body still thrumming from Rhys’s kiss, her cheeks abraded from his stubble.

  Maybe it was for the best, for them to keep their relationship in the friend zone. He was on the rebound, and she was on the cusp of a major life change. That thirty-minute conversation with Major Beck had opened up an entirely new world for her, and if she stepped into that world, she’d be leaving her old one completely behind.

  Rhys couldn’t do casual—she could only do temporary. Besides, Devon had already learned the hard way that getting involved with a teammate sometimes led to massive heartache.

  Better to just leave things as they were.

  Chapter Thirteen

  This is it.

  Rhys stared into the gaping maw of the C-17.

  One more deployment. Four more months of my life about to be given up to a country we never should’ve gone into in the first place.

  The loadmasters scurried back and forth on their forklifts while the SEALs stayed well out of the way. Some of them were huddled with their families inside the squadron’s cavernous hangar, while still others were grouped together, laughing and joking around after having already said their goodbyes privately at home.

  “Hey, man.” A sharp clap to his back, and Rhys turned to see Aaron standing there, his brown eyes bright with excitement. “Ready for this?”

  “I guess.” With a shrug, Rhys looked over Aaron’s shoulder. “Sarah not here?”

  “Nah, she booted my ass out bright and early.”

  Every family dealt with the goodbyes in their own way. Some wanted to linger over them, and others—like Sarah—didn’t want to dwell on them, preferring to rip the Band-Aid off all at once.

  Rhys’s eyes sought out Devon, who was sitting in the shade nearby, her back against her ruck. A quiver went through him at the memory of the hot kiss they’d shared. She’d been so responsive, so eager, under his hands and mouth. Rhys could still feel the warm weight of her breast in his palm, a delicious, perfect handful, and so different from Lani’s lush curves.

  He winced. It wasn’t fair to compare the two, but then again, he didn’t have much basis for comparison. He and Lani had fumbled through every first together at seventeen—first kiss, first touch, first sex. They’d endured the premature ejaculations, the embarrassment of bodily fluids and noises, everything that made sex such an intimate act.

  Rhys had never imagined having it with anyone else, but suddenly, that was all he could think about. The night before, for the first time since he could remember, he’d fallen asleep wishing he was holding another woman in his arms.

  The same woman now sitting and staring pensively at the plane. After a moment’s hesitation, Rhys gathered his courage and approached her, not sure of his welcome.

  “Mind some company?”

  She glanced up with what looked like a genuine smile. “Not at all.”

  Rhys lowered himself to sitting and drew his knees up, ankles crossed, loosely draping his arms around them. “You okay?”

  With a shrug, Devon mirrored his pose and nodded at the plane. “Just sitting here trying to analyze my feelings.”

  “About going back?”

  “Mmm.”

  “I can imagine those are some pretty complicated feelings,” Rhys said gently.

  “Yeah, well, I’m in a totally different place now, at least. Back then I was so idealistic, so trusting, so goddamn stupid.”

  Rhys didn’t say anything, just let her talk.

  “I thought that bad things couldn’t happen to me, or if they did, it’d be something heroic, you know? Not—” She shook her head. “And now all I want to do is reclaim that part of myself that someone else took from me.”

  A lump rose into Rhys’s throat at the slight quaver in her voice.

  “Well, this time around you have me,” he said fiercely. “You have the guys.” He nodded towar
d Matt and Shane, who were leaning against a nearby wall, arms crossed, each with one booted foot propped against it, heads close together.

  Devon smiled when she saw them. “Think they worked everything out?”

  Rhys was about to say he hoped so when Matt pushed off the wall. As he did, Shane snaked his hand behind him and gave his ass a firm pinch, followed by a discreet pat. Matt elbowed him, hard, but he was smiling when he sauntered away.

  “Um, I think that’s a pretty safe bet.”

  He and Devon snickered together, and she bumped him with her shoulder. “You’re right. It’s gonna be different this time, for lots of different reasons.” She bit her lip. “That’s why I insisted that I get this training time with the platoon, so they’d get to know me and I’d get to know them before we ever went downrange. It’s a different vibe all the way around—a good vibe, I think.”

  Rhys didn’t remember much about that first platoon, the one where he’d met Devon, but what he did remember wasn’t all that positive. Most of the guys were squared away, but there’d been a couple of them who struck Rhys as arrogant and overly aggressive, who were really caught up in the way the media portrayed them after the bin Laden raid...as sexy badasses who could do no wrong.

  “No matter what, I got your back, Lowe,” he said.

  “Got yours, too, Halloran.” She gave a mock gasp. “Uh oh. I’m supposed to say, ‘Got your six,’ aren’t I?”

  “Nah, this ain’t the movies.”

  Devon sighed. “Got that right.”

  “All right, people. Let’s load up!”

  As they walked toward the plane, Rhys laughed to himself. This definitely wasn’t the movies. The guys didn’t look like a band of superheroes—instead they were a ragtag militia wearing mismatched uniforms, some sporting long hair and the scruffy beards Devon had suggested they grow in deference to the Afghan culture.

  They had all the coolest toys, though, Rhys had to admit. The pallets strapped to the inside of the cabin were full of the most modern of tech gear and the best ammo government money could buy. Rhys had already supervised the loading of his medical supplies, and he tossed his ruck and sleeping bag on top of them.

  Devon spread her woobie in the same place she had before, between two sets of pallets close to the wall.

  The whine of the ramp’s hydraulics drew Rhys’s attention toward the rear of the plane, and he watched the slice of Coronado sunlight grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared altogether.

  The next time I see this particular piece of sky, I’ll have changed. Everything will have changed. Am I ready for this?

  The engines started to spool up as the ramp slowly clamped shut.

  Well, ready or not, here we go.

  Rhys jumped on top of his pallet bed and lay down, and with a roar, they took off. Once they’d leveled out, he made the rounds with a bottle of sleeping pills for anyone who wanted one.

  He crouched down next to Devon and waved the bottle enticingly. “Want a night-night pill? Best way to spend an eighteen-hour flight.”

  “No, thanks.” Devon shook her head. “I won’t drug myself around a group of men, Rhys. I’ll just have to sleep the best I can.”

  The expression on her face didn’t invite any questions, so with a nod, Rhys slipped the bottle into the pocket of his pants and went back to his own pallet, where he spent a couple of hours watching a movie on his tablet and dozing.

  All around them guys were out cold, although every now and then someone would lurch to their feet and stumble toward the pisser at the back of the plane. A sudden patch of turbulence caused Smudge to fall against one of the pallets Devon was next to, and Rhys watched her jerk awake from her light sleep, hand scrabbling at the knife sheath on her belt.

  Her awareness returned almost in an instant, but Rhys’s heart ached. If she couldn’t rest, she’d be exhausted by the end of the trip and would be starting out the deployment with an unhealthy sleep deficit that she’d never catch up on.

  Debating with himself for another moment, Rhys finally grabbed a blanket and made his way over to her. He spread it out across the entrance to her little hidey-hole and sat down on it, leaning in close so she could hear him over the plane’s engines.

  “Get some sleep, Devon. I’ll keep watch.”

  She stared at him. “What?”

  “Get some sleep,” he repeated. “I’m gonna sit here, and I won’t let anything happen.”

  Rhys put his back to one pallet and stretched his legs out toward the other, a human barricade. He held up his tablet. “Got a bunch of movies I downloaded on here, so I’m fine and I want you to get some fucking sleep.”

  Her face darkened. “I don’t need you to take care of me—”

  Rhys cut her off. “And what part of ‘having your back’ don’t you understand?” he snapped. “Do you trust me? If you don’t, I’ll crawl back under the rock I came from, just say the word.”

  They glared at each other, until at last Devon’s eyes softened. “Yeah, I trust you. More than I’ve trusted any man in a very long time.”

  A rush of emotion stung the back of Rhys’s throat. “I know, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that. Do you trust me enough to fall asleep? I’ll be right here the whole time, I promise.”

  Instead of answering, Devon wrapped herself completely up in her woobie, settled her head on the pillow she’d brought, and was out cold in seconds.

  Rhys watched her for a while, then queued up another movie. It wasn’t long until he started shivering uncontrollably. The cabin was frigid at thirty-six thousand feet. All the guys had donned fleece, and were cocooned in down sleeping bags, warm and snug.

  He shifted uncomfortably on his blanket. He’d wrap up in it, but then his ass would be resting on bare metal, which would make it even worse.

  I could grab my ruck and get my fleece. It’d take ten seconds.

  Rhys looked at Devon’s peaceful face, then at the ruck on top of his pallet several yards away. No. What if she woke up in those ten seconds and he wasn’t there like he’d promised? The damage that’d do, just so he could be a little more comfortable? Not an option.

  He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, hunching over and trying to think warm thoughts. Beach. Sunshine. Devon in a bikini...

  Rhys snorted into his folded arms. Not helping. Although the rush of heat that skittered through him was very pleasant.

  It didn’t last, and the jackhammer shivering returned with a vengeance. He wouldn’t move, though. He wouldn’t violate Devon’s trust...

  The thick fleece jacket being tossed over his shoulders just then was a gift from heaven. Rhys clutched it like a lifeline, and glanced up at his savior.

  Matt grinned down at him as he dropped Rhys’s ruck at his side. “You look like I felt on that steel pier during BUD/S.” He shuddered. “No exaggeration, but if I’d had some lighter fluid and a match that night, I would’ve set myself on fire just so I could get warm.”

  “Amen, brother,” Rhys forced out. “Amen. And thanks.”

  With a clap to Rhys’s shoulder, Matt moved on, and Rhys fished thick gloves from the pocket of his ruck, sighing in relief as he donned them. Much more comfortable now, he put his head back against the pallet, thoughts of Devon on a sunny beach sneaking up on him again.

  Rhys let out a tiny groan and squirmed, unable to stop wondering what it would’ve been like to take such an uninhibited, sexually confident woman to bed.

  Well, he’d never know. The chance had passed, and now they were heading into a war zone, a place where Devon was seeking to lay her demons to rest. What she needed was to be surrounded by friends who had her best interests at heart, not yet another dude lusting after her.

  But gah, that kiss...

  Rhys’s lips tingled, and he brushed his fingertips over them. No matter what happened, he’d never forget the first sight of her smiling at him while wearing that form-fitting dress, or the sound of her voice singing with Matt, or the feel of her beautif
ul body pressed to his.

  They were his memories to cherish in the face of an uncertain future, and he refused to feel guilty about it.

  Because now they had a different war to fight. Guilt would have to wait.

  * * *

  Afghanistan was just how she remembered it.

  Devon could already feel the dust seeping into her pores as the sweat pooled. No matter that it was early November, the heat lingered almost palpably in the air. Snowcapped mountains loomed in the distance, the sky above them an icy, crystal blue.

  Four years and nothing had changed.

  Except her.

  Everyone stood with their individual gear piled around their feet, waiting for Lieutenant Bradley to arrange their helo flight out to the small combat outpost that’d be their home for the next few months.

  “Okay, we’re set,” he announced. “Flight out tomorrow morning at 0600. Rest of our shit will be flown out in shifts as aircraft scheduling allows, so make sure you have your essentials.”

  Devon and the others nodded wearily before heading to the base’s transient quarters. Hurry up and wait, reality in a war zone.

  When Devon unlocked the door to her assigned room, she was surprised to see another woman already in it.

  “Hey, I’m Ella.”

  Devon stuck out her hand as they introduced themselves.

  “What do you do, Devon?”

  When Devon told her, Ella’s eyes opened wide. “You’re deployed with a SEAL team? That’s pretty cool.”

  “It can be. How about you?”

  “I’m in Military Intelligence.” She held up her hands as if warding Devon off. “Yeah, yeah, I know the jokes. ‘It’s an oxymoron,’ blah, blah, blah.”

  Devon laughed. “I wasn’t going to make a joke. You a linguist?”

  “Yep, Arabic.” Ella perched on the end of her narrow twin bed. “What do you bring to the SEAL team?”

  By the time they decided to walk to the chow hall together, Devon and Ella were on their way to becoming fast friends.

  As they strolled along the boardwalk, they endured stares, whistles and catcalls from young Army grunts and Marines who acted like they’d never seen a woman before.