Fighting for Everything

by Laura Kaye

  Noah needed Kristina to be that relentless now. Her gaze followed him as he disappeared inside the house.

  For a lot of reasons, she’d been holding back since he’d gotten home from the military. Because he’d been upset about being discharged. Because he’d earned the right to feel anger at no longer being able to do what he loved. Because after everything he’d been through, he’d needed time to heal without her jumping on him.

  Well, not jumping on him. Because, even though Noah was totally freaking jumpable, they were just friends.

  Actually, just friends didn’t begin to do them justice. They were so much more than friends. Kindred spirits, maybe.

  Kristina jogged up the steps and nearly ran into Mr. Cortez as he came out of the back door, his hands full of bags of buns for the burgers and dogs.

  “Ah, there you are,” he said wearing that big open smile that all the Cortez men had. Well, Noah used to have it. Had she seen him smile even once since he’d been home? “How are you doing, Kristina?” He gave her a one-armed hug.

  “Summer’s almost here, Mr. Cortez, so I couldn’t be better,” she said, giving him a wink. Truth be told, she loved being a teacher, so she didn’t spend the school year wishing for June’s summer dismissal to arrive. But she appreciated the extra time summer gave her to concentrate on her writing, which was harder to come by when she had papers and homework assignments and course preps needing her attention at nights and on the weekends. Teaching was one of those jobs where, no matter how much you worked, there was always something else you could be doing.

  Mr. Cortez laughed. “I bet. Make sure you get something to eat,” he said, gesturing to the bags of buns. “We made enough food for the entire neighborhood.”

  “I will,” Kristina said, giving him a smile and then slipping inside the Cortez’s big, warm kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Cortez were both amazing cooks. Kristina had many fond memories of watching the couple in the kitchen, of spending time with what she’d sometimes wished was her happy family, of meals filled with laughter and conversation, rather than the tension and awkwardness that had often filled her home.

  Searching for Noah, Kristina peered into the family room, then the living room. No luck. In the hall, she opened the door to the basement where he’d been living the past few months. “Noah?”

  All was quiet.

  She jogged halfway down to where the wall gave way to a railed bannister and peered into the open rec room. A pool table sat at one end and a big, comfy seating area and TV filled the other. “Noah, are you down here?” she called again.

  Despite the lack of response, she continued down and crossed the room to the mostly closed door in the back corner—Noah’s bedroom since he’d returned just before last Christmas. God, Kristina had thought she’d received the best Christmas present ever—Noah home safe and sound.

  Well, mostly sound, anyway. An IED blast had taken the hearing and most of his vision on his left side, and he’d struggled with bad migraines and equilibrium problems when he’d first returned. But he was home and he was alive, and having him back again had made it feel like she could finally breathe after years of knowing he was in danger every second of every day.

  She knocked softly. “Hey Noah, it’s me.”

  All she heard was a long exhale of breath, but it was enough.

  Why hadn’t he answered her? Her stomach clenched as she pushed open the door far enough to see Noah standing in the dark doorway to his bathroom, his back against the door jamb, his arms crossed, and his head hanging on his big shoulders.

  She didn’t need to ask if he was okay, because he was radiating not okay loud and clear. Kristina walked right up to him. “What’s going on?” she asked. Dim light from the rec room filtered over him, allowing her to just make out the tight clench of his square jaw, the narrowed cast of his dark brown eyes, the harsh set of his beautiful mouth.

  Wait. What? Where had that come from?

  Noah shook his head, forcing Kristina to drop the ridiculous line of thought.

  She stepped closer so that she could look more directly into his eyes. “Come on, Noah. It’s me.” She ached for him to open up, but what she noticed even more was the low buzz rushing through her body. From how close she stood to all his taut hardness. It wasn’t like she was just noticing that Noah was hot, like, dayum hot, but nearly five years in the Marines had matured him and built hard muscle that hadn’t been there before. And clearly her body was just noticing, probably because they hadn’t had the chance to spend much time together since he’d gotten back.

  “Kristina,” he said, his voice so low it was nearly a whisper, or a plea. He leaned his forehead against hers. It was such a sweet, needful gesture that Kristina’s chest seized.

  “First, I’m hugging you. Then we’re talking, buddy,” she said, wrapping her arms around his big shoulders and planting her cheek against his chest. The embrace wasn’t unusual—they’d always been affectionate with each other. She’d lay against him while they watched a movie or he’d sling an arm over her shoulders while they were out together. When things were bad with her dad, he’d hold her when she finally gave into her grief about it and cried. That’s how they’d always been.

  He embraced her right back and leaned his face against her hair.

  After a long moment, Kristina pulled away—

  Noah wouldn’t let her go. His grip on her tightened, and he held her fast against him. Was he breathing faster? Was he trembling?

  Against her belly, he hardened.

  Kristina’s breath caught in her throat. Noah was aroused…by her? Or just, like, in her general vicinity? Or…? She swallowed hard as her thoughts flew.

  As they stood there, suspended in the dark, stolen moment, the air around them flashed hot and closed in, narrowing the world to all the places their bodies touched. His erection grew, pressing against her with more insistence.

  And holy shit. He was big. Like, big.

  Heat bloomed over her skin everywhere and she held herself perfectly still. Because this was different. This was not friendly. This was more.

  A strange tension wrapped around them, and it scared and attracted Kristina in equal measure. She shuddered out a breath as her body came to life against his. Her breathing quickened, her nipples peaked, her core clenched.

  Noah made a noise in the back of his throat like a moan, and his arms tightened around her, pulling their bodies totally flush.

  Kristina’s breath caught at the hard press of his erection and at the shocking arousal it unleashed in her.

  This is Noah. This is Noah. This is Noah.

  But it didn’t seem to matter to her body. The soft cotton of her dress became heavy and irritating against her skin, and all she wanted was for it to be off. So he could be all over her. This sudden, intoxicating need was brand new to her—in general and certainly with Noah. She wasn’t a virgin, but she’d never felt with another man the kind of desire rocketing through her just then. And all they’d done was touch.

  Why was this happening?

  Her hips shifted without her meaning to do it, and it made her belly grind against all that long hardness.

  Noah hissed in her ear. His fingertips dug into her back…and then wandered, one hand pressing low against her hip, one skimming up her neck into her hair. Holding her tight. Bringing her closer.

  She was half sure she was imagining that they were locked inside this raging bubble of attraction, except that his heart thundered beneath where her head rested, his breathing had gone rough, and his skin felt every bit as feverish as hers.

  She had to stop this…whatever this was.

  Tilting her head back, the words were on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes locked with his, and even in the dimness she could see that they were blazing hot and almost predatory in their directness. It stole her capacity to speak, because she was unequivocally sure he’d never looked at her like that. Need roared off of him and through her, spiking her arousal so hard and fast that she became wet between her leg
s.

  From just a look.

  Heart pounding like a bass drum, Kristina swallowed hard. What would she do if he kissed her? One kissing experiment aside, she’d never had to ask that in regard to him. Another question followed close behind: what would she do if he didn’t?

  He didn’t give her the space to debate. His hand fisted in the back of her hair. The roughness licked flames through her and sent her heart into a sprint. And then he was guiding her head, bringing them together, bringing his face closer and closer to hers. His gaze dropped to her lips, and a shaky breath caressed her skin.

  Noah kissed her.

  The first press of his lips against hers was soft and sweet, and she thought she might shatter from the shock of sensation just that light touch delivered. The one that made her want to forget who he was and what he was to her and climb him like a tree.

  This is Noah. This is Noah. This is Noah.

  Kristina had never wanted anything like this with him. Never before. But now that she’d had a taste, it was like she’d never eaten a meal in her life. His lips skated over hers, and she moaned at the unexpected goodness of it.

  And it was like the sound burst some dam inside him. On an answering groan, he planted both hands in her hair and kissed her harder than she’d ever been kissed in her life. His mouth claimed, his tongue penetrated, his body grinded against hers. He pushed her against the opposite side of the door frame, pinning her there with all his muscled strength.

  It was stunning. It was glorious. It was so wrong.

  This is Noah. This is—

  So freaking good.

  The kiss felt like he was feasting on her, like he’d been starving for her and finally let himself have a taste. His desire was thrilling. His rough intensity was breath-stealing. His need fueled hers. Against his chest, her nipples ached to be tugged and sucked. She clenched her thighs together, dying for relief from the inferno he’d ignited inside her. She sucked hard on his tongue and ran her hands up the corded muscles of his biceps to grasp his thick shoulders, trying to anchor herself against the storm his desire had unleashed in both of them.

  Her brain tried to remind her why she’d come down here, that she’d wanted to confront Noah—her best friend, Noah, but then his hands skimmed down her body—over her breasts, her belly, to her hips—and his clutching, urgent touch chased the thoughts away.

  Later. There’d be time for talk, for thought, for consequences…later.

  Because there wasn’t a chance in hell she was pulling away from what he was giving her. Not when she’d never felt anything like it before. Not when she hadn’t even known her body was capable of feeling this way. Not when he’d been the one to open her eyes to how she could feel.

  With the right man.

  Except he isn’t—

  Later.

  Tongue stroking and twining with hers, his hands squeezed her hips, his fingers digging in to her ass. The thin cotton of her dress and the thinner satin of her panties allowed his heat to reach her skin, setting her on fire everywhere. And then his hands palmed her ass and hauled her even tighter against him.

  On tiptoes, Kristina’s head fell back on a moan. She ground her hips against his, needing more. More of his touch. More of him against her. More of the hard press of that delicious ridge in his jeans. More of Noah everywhere.

  She could hardly believe she was thinking this way about Noah, but as he ran kisses and small nips down her throat, all she could do was grasp the back of his head and hold him there, urging him on.

  God, how far was she willing to go here?

  Because her mind already had her naked and underneath him—

  He pulled her off the wall and walked her toward the bed. He separated from her long enough to reach over and give the door a hard push. It clicked shut, encasing them in darkness. And then Noah was right back on her. Kissing her. Touching her. Lowering her to the mattress and climbing on top of her.

  Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why wasn’t she?

  Part of her thought she should slow this down and see if he was really okay taking them where they were going. But damn was it hard to think when his knees pushed her thighs apart and his hips settled between her legs. His weight covering her felt obscenely good. “God, Noah,” she moaned. Kristina’s thighs spread wider as she drew them up and her knees fell open.

  “Fuck,” he rasped, attacking her mouth again. His hips circled against hers, giving her the hard friction she was so desperate for. “Feels good. God, it feels good.” He kissed along her throat to her shoulder, and then he pulled aside the straps to her dress and bra.

  Kristina moaned as his lips and fingers followed the fabric’s retreat, until Noah’s breath caressed her breast and his lips dragged across her nipple. She arched at the goodness of him licking her, flicking at her, sucking her. Her hands flew to his dark hair, loving that it was long enough that she could fist and pull.

  Noah moved to the other side and bared her there, too. And then he was sucking hard on one nipple while he teased and tugged at the other. Each touch, each lick, each bite flashed through her and pooled liquid heat between her thighs. She used the leverage of her heels against the bed to rock herself against him—

  Pop. Pop-pop-pop. Pop. Pop. Boom.

  Noah was off her in a flash.

  In the dim light thrown by the LED screen of his alarm clock, she saw him tumble in a quick and controlled move into a crouching position on the far side of the bedside table.

  Boom. Boom. Pop-pop-pop.

  Heart thundering in her throat at the confusing suddenness of his movements, Kristina couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. “Uh, what are you doing?”

  No answer. The fireworks display that the Harlows always put on at their big riverfront house seemed even louder against his silence.

  She frowned. “Noah?” Scooting to the edge of the bed, Kristina tugged her dress back into place. Sheer bewilderment pushed every other reaction away as she leaned over and fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand.

  Light illuminated the room, coming from right above where Noah remained crouched.

  And it was like he didn’t even notice. Like he didn’t see it. Or her.

  Like he wasn’t there at all.

  Chapter Three

  The firefight raged around Noah. He crouched at the edge of a building and peered around the corner, automatic weapon in hand, trigger finger at the ready. A bombed-out car, half-hidden passageways between the buildings, and high rooftops gave their enemies plenty of places to hide down the seemingly empty street.

  Pop-pop-pop.

  Noah pulled back. God, he had a bad feeling about this. Where was the fucking shooter?

  He looked around the corner again… The image before him went shimmery, a strange light shining through the landscape.

  What the hell? Was he experiencing haloes now? The visual disturbances happened sometimes when he looked at bright lights.

  Wait. That didn’t make sense.

  Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Noah shook his head.

  He blinked his eyes open again to find Kristina kneeling in front of him, golden light spilling over her. His first thought was that she was in danger. But then his brain registered the room surrounding her—surrounding them.

  His room. At home. In Alexandria.

  Where the fuck had that come from? He’d had a lot of issues since returning stateside, but he’d never before been sucked into a memory like that. He might as well have blacked out. Jesus, it had been so real it was like he’d really been there. He flinched against another explosion of fireworks.

  Humiliation flooded through Noah fast and hot. Anger followed close behind. He gulped for air.

  “What just happened?” Kristina asked. And damn if her cheeks weren’t still flushed from…

  Fuck. From how Noah had kissed her, touched her, ground himself against her. Chasing something good. Something beautiful. Something that would help him escape all the ugliness inside him.

  B
oom-boom-boom. Noah’s breath caught in his throat and he flinched. The fucking fireworks. The sound had pulled him right back into Iraq, and there had been absolutely nothing conscious about it. Still wasn’t, judging by the sweat trickling down his back, the paranoia burning through his mind, and the triple-timing beat of his heart against his sternum. His mouth was like a desert, and he couldn’t manage to form words around the panic seizing his body.

  Kristina crawled closer and reached her hand toward him. “It’s me, Noah.”

  He recoiled, his back coming up hard against the corner of the room. “Don’t,” he choked out. Sadness carved worry lines onto her pretty face, and he was certain he couldn’t loathe himself more than he did just then. For long minutes, they sat there. Facing off. Both of them trapped in the awkwardness his delusions had created.

  Finally, the fireworks boomed in a symphony of explosions, big bangs, smaller pops, and crackling, whistling noises combining in what had to be the finale. But it was like the fireworks were hyperlinked to sounds and sights and even smells from his past. Buddies crying out. Spilled blood. Torn bodies. Burned flesh. Noah’s heart was going to beat right the fuck out of his chest. He was sure of it.

  Silence.

  Well, all except for the rasping pants of his attempts at breathing. Christ, it sounded like he’d just finished a thirty-mile hump with a sixty-pound pack on his back.

  Actually, he’d never sounded this bad after one of those.

  Pressure against the top of his sneaker. Kristina’s hand rested there, trying to reach him, trying to comfort him. But all he felt was soul-scorching humiliation. He knew he’d lose it in front of her. He hadn’t known when or how or why, but the very fact of it had been all but certain. Now he’d done it. And she was looking at him like his head might start doing three-sixties as he spoke in tongues.