by Mary Stone
She pressed her warm body against his, killing him slowly. He kissed the bare curve between her neck and collarbone, and she cupped his jaw tenderly. “Yes. That sounds about perfect.”
When she pressed her lips to his, he decided that tonight would indeed be perfect.
And it would be enough.
It would just have to be.
4
The tension was thick on the ride up to Linc’s house. He had his hand on Kylie’s bare thigh the whole way, drawing little circles. She liked this side of him, the man who was just thinking physical, because at this point, she was too tired to think of anything else.
He told her he’d take her back to her car later, that he didn’t want her driving on the curvy mountain too late. So, she sat back and tried not to get carsick as they looped their way to his farm.
When they got to his house, the dogs were doing their familiar greeting, yipping and barking to the top of their lungs. The farm animals joined in, and she was pretty sure the llamas were giving her the stink eye for being the cause of so much noise.
Linc opened the back of the truck and motioned for Storm to exit. Vader lumbered out, following the German Shepherd into the fenced-in yard to join all their friends. Kylie climbed the stairs to the porch, waiting for Linc. A moment later, he climbed the stairs two at a time, strode straight to her, and took her face in his hands, kissing her until she was breathless.
Yes. The physical side of this man was very, very good.
A low groan of pleasure rose from her throat. He’d always been delicious, but now he was a man on a mission. What had gotten into him?
Whatever it was, it was quickly getting into her too.
The touch of his hand on her skin made heat prickle through her body. Wanting to touch him freely, she ripped at the Velcro on her sling she’d worn for her mother’s benefit, letting it fall to the porch.
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
She ignored the twinge of pain as she lifted her hands to his chest, freeing his buttons. Aside from her mother’s dramatics on how badly her injury could have gone, Kylie had been very lucky. The bullet had barely nicked the muscle, and even though it still hurt, she hated the sling and simply didn’t want to wear it anymore. Especially not now.
When Linc reached for her shirt to return the favor, she hesitated after the first two buttons were freed. Kylie had a feeling he wasn’t going to stop until he had her naked for him. Right then and there.
“Linc,” she murmured as she turned to look out into the darkness. She shivered, thinking of the terrible night she’d been shot. The cabin to which she’d been taken lay just beyond those trees. “I don’t want to be on display. Let’s go inside.”
“On display for whom?” he asked, then froze, understanding seeming to settle in.
Sophia DuBois, the psychopath who’d shot her, had taken great pleasure in recounting how she’d so stealthily stalked Kylie, going so far as to spy on her with Linc, watching them during their most intimate moments.
Kylie had felt so violated. In truth, she still did.
Linc ran his fingers down her cheek. “Shit. Sorry, I forgot.”
She didn’t know how he could have forgotten such a thing but chalked it up to the differences between how men and women felt about nudity and sex.
Or maybe she was just a prude. A cold fish, as a past boyfriend had called her.
She wasn’t sure.
“Can we go inside?” she asked, ridiculously close to tears.
Her doctor told her that she might suffer some symptoms of post-traumatic stress, and until that moment, she’d thought he was wrong.
She didn’t think he was wrong now.
Was this how Linc felt when he thought about the war he didn’t want to talk about? Her exposure to the stressor had only been for a few hours. How much worse would his be considering he’d been exposed to stressors for months?
She wanted to ask him about it, but he kissed her again before taking her hand. “Let’s go inside.”
She smiled past the embarrassment her nerves caused her, but she couldn’t stop from looking out at the darkness as Linc closed the door behind them, sliding the lock in place. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her up the stairs, not stopping until that door was closed too.
He turned to her. “Better?”
She nodded and leaned forward to press her lips to his chest. “Thank you.”
He made love to her then. No, that wasn’t right. He actually had sex with her until she was hoarse from screaming and felt like a boneless heap underneath him.
Looking pretty boneless himself, he collapsed onto his back, chest heaving from the exertion and the constant stress on his arms in his attempt to keep his weight from hurting her injury.
He laughed. “Just sex, right?”
She laughed too, still splayed out like a starfish. “Right.” With great effort, she found enough energy to turn on her side and press her lips to his sweaty shoulder. “Perfect.”
Linc frowned, and Kylie thought she knew exactly what he was thinking. If this is so perfect, then why are you so afraid?
She didn’t know. Maybe because things were so good just as they were. Maybe because she’d seen her mother go through a hell of a lot of heartache for a man who wasn’t worth it. Maybe because she’d always been the type of girl who was distracted by bright, shiny objects and didn’t want to hurt him by going off on her crazy whims.
Linc was solid, steady. The last thing he needed was crazy old her ruffling up his quiet, predictable life.
She sighed. She didn’t want to think about that.
When unexpected tears burned up her sinuses and wet her eyes, she turned onto her other side, prepared to tell him that her shoulder hurt if he asked her the inevitable “what’s wrong” question. Instead, he turned until his front was spooned against her back, a hand snaking around until it was firmly on her breast.
The position offered so much comfort, she didn’t want to leave.
But it was getting late, and her car was still parked downtown.
“We should probably go,” she murmured, snuggling deeper against his chest.
“Uh-huh,” he replied, sounding equally sleepy.
Just a few more moments, she thought. Just a few more moments in the safety and comfort of this man’s arms.
The last thing she thought before she could think of nothing else was, exactly what am I afraid of, anyway?
She woke with a start, pain digging into her arm. Her eyes flashed open, and she looked around, almost expecting to be back in the shed with the Spotlight Killer.
Instead, she was still in Linc’s bed, pressed against his warm body. But he was no longer holding her, keeping her safe.
His face was shining and slick with sweat, and his voice tore through the darkness like a tornado. “No! Watch out! No!”
Pain and pressure increased on her arm. Kylie looked down to the source of the pain, and through the minimal moonlight streaming through the windows, saw Linc’s big hand clamped upon her bicep, fingers like claws digging into the skin. It was an alien feeling. He’d touched her roughly, but never like that.
Her heart hammered as she caught a glimpse of his face. It was twisted in desperation and agony.
A dream. He was having a dream. No, a nightmare.
Kylie touched the side of his beautiful face, his stubble-crusted chin, his square jaw, his eyelids closed into two half-moons. She tried to pull her arm from his grip, but that only made him tighten it.
“Linc…” She was getting frightened now as he started to jerk her in his grip. He was so strong, he could snap her arm like a twig. She forced her voice to grow louder. “Linc!”
His face twisted into an agony of pain, and he shouted, “Stop! Nooooo!”
Kylie screamed when he sat straight up, his other arm coming around at full power, hand clenched into a fist.
All she could do was close her eyes, waiting for the punch she knew was coming.
5
> It was hot. So damn hot in Raqqa. Linc’s imaginings of the place before he ever set foot there was that it was a desert wasteland, but that wasn’t true. A lot of the time, the weather wasn’t different from back home.
But it was a wasteland. Sometimes, it was a struggle to find a building that hadn’t gotten bombed out. The air was always thick with dust from the rubble, and it caught in his throat like he imagined desert sand would.
It was late summer now, and he’d been there since April. He’d gotten used to sweating his balls off in full uniform, carrying all his gear on his back. Storm hated it. She didn’t like the heat and panted at his feet, using his shadow for shade.
The guys had found some local kids outside the marketplace while they were doing their usual recon, scouting for jihad. These little boys were rough and crazy and knew their way around a soccer ball, that was for sure. The commanding officer had told them to cut it out, to relax and not call attention to themselves, but no one had seen the enemy in weeks, and they all wanted something to ease the tension. Kids didn’t care. Especially the little kid with the shaggy hair and the baseball cap who was hounding them, wanting to play.
One of Linc’s best friends, Austin, who outranked him by a couple levels, started to kick the ball around with the kid. Linc couldn’t really blame him, knowing Austin probably missed his own son back home.
“Hey, Colt,” Austin had said to Linc, using Lincoln Coulter’s nickname that had both born and died during his time in service. “Here.” He passed him the ball.
Soccer wasn’t Linc’s favorite sport, but he’d always been naturally athletic, and was happy to kick the ball around with the kid. The three of them passed it around until some of the other guys on Linc’s squad showed up, wanting to get in on the game. Then, a few of the little kids, who’d been watching, started to join in too.
Looking back, Linc knew they shouldn’t have been making a spectacle of themselves like that. They were unwelcome, even among those little kids. But the guys were laughing, having fun, and they meant the kids no harm.
Then he saw her. Grenades strapped to her chest.
The fear in her eyes, the determination on her face told him everything he needed to know.
He ran, gripped her arm holding the detonation device. “Stop!” he shouted. “Nooooo!”
The woman was shouting too.
“Linc!!”
With the word ringing in his ear, everything changed.
One moment, he was in the desert. The next, he was in his bedroom.
One moment, his hand was wrapped around the arm of a suicide bomber. The next, it was wrapped around a terrified Kylie.
The woman was screaming at him, trying to wrench her arm away.
Kylie was screaming too, shouting his name, over and over.
He wanted to cover his ears against the explosion of sound.
His body was drenched in a cold sweat. He blinked and blinked, sure that at any moment this illusion of his quaint bedroom would disappear, and he’d find himself back in the rubble of Raqqa.
Instead, the farmhouse became clearer. Memories of last night began to click in place…dinner with Kylie’s mom, the amazing sex, and…Kylie.
Linc’s gaze fell on the woman he cared for so much. She was sitting in bed beside him, cringing against the headboard, her eyes still wide with fear. Her chest was heaving with every breath.
His eyes drifted down to his closed fist, and he realized what was scaring her.
Him.
Still breathing hard, Linc lowered his fist, and his eyes darted to his other hand. It was wrapped tightly around Kylie’s upper arm.
What had he done?
Linc quickly loosened it, then wiped his hand on the sheets. He was bathed in sweat. He opened his mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. He scrubbed both hands over his face.
“Jesus. Kylie. I’m so damn sorry.”
He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d meant to just rest his eyes for a few minutes before driving her back to her car. Dammit. He should have known better.
“You were having a nightmare,” she said quietly, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. In the light, she looked afraid. She had a good reason to be.
That had been more than a nightmare. It’d felt so real, his pulse was still pounding in his head. He realized his hands were trembling as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing her sore arm. Any higher, and he would’ve been grabbing on to her injured shoulder.
Damn. He hated himself.
Linc nodded, but he still wasn’t sure. It felt too real to be a dream.
“Does that happen often?”
No. At least he didn’t think so. Normally, his nightmares seemed real, appeared absolutely vivid, but he’d never hurt anyone because of them. Of course, that was because there was normally never anyone around when his subconscious assaulted him in his sleep.
In fact, the last woman to spend the night with him had been over two years ago, not long after his return from Syria. Shouldn’t the nightmares have been lessening in intensity by now?
“Linc?”
He realized Kylie had asked him a question. Unable to answer verbally, he shook his head, his eyes scanning over her, her beautiful breasts heaving out of control as she rubbed her arm. At first, he thought she was massaging goose bumps from her skin because she was cold, but then she flinched when he tried to touch her.
That’s when he saw the red welts on her pale skin, right where his hand had been.
A new wave of adrenalin shot through his system, and he jumped from the bed. “Jesus, Kylie. Did I…why didn’t you—”
“I tried,” she said, her voice a little steadier now. “You were hell-bent on…I don’t know. I don’t know what you were doing. You were so dead asleep, I couldn’t wake you. You almost…”
Jesus. His hand had been clenched in a fist and aimed right for her face. If he hadn’t woken in time, he could’ve killed her.
“Dammit,” Linc growled, reaching for a pair of drawstring pajama pants and slipping into them. “Yeah. I sometimes have dreams. Really vivid dreams.”
“About Syria?”
He nodded. She still looked so scared, and now there were goose bumps popping up all over her skin. Linc slammed the windows closed and went to her, gathering her into his arms, careful of her sore shoulder.
He lifted her arm, and sure enough, he could see where three bruises the size of his fingers were already beginning to show. They would be much, much worse in a few hours.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really didn’t.”
She ran a finger down his cheek. “I know. It’s okay, Linc. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Not intentionally, at least. But he had hurt her, and he’d die before he went and did it again. He grabbed his pillow. “I’m sorry. Go to sleep. I won’t bother you. I’ll sleep in another room. Or…I can drive you to your car like I was supposed to do.”
She grabbed his arm, shaking her head vigorously. “No. Please don’t. Please sleep with me. I don’t want to leave you.” The look in her eyes was desperate, pleading.
Linc stared at the space next to her, afraid to fill it, but at the same time, wanting it more than anything. He loved the feeling of her body next to his, so warm and sweet-smelling and soft. She knew he couldn’t deny her, any more than he could deny himself.
“I don’t want to hurt…” He couldn’t finish it.
She reached for Linc’s hand, pulling him onto the bed. “You won’t. Tonight, I learned an important lesson.”
That the man you only have sex with is insane?
He ran both hands through his hair, but before he could speak, she added, “If you dream again, I won’t touch you. It was the wrong thing to do, I know that now. I won’t do it again.”
So great was his relief at her understanding, his sinuses began to burn. He forced the emotion away. Forced everything away. He’d deal with his messed up mind later.<
br />
Right now, he needed to take care of her.
Very carefully, he put his pillow down and stretched out next to her. She immediately curled her body around him. She kissed the scar on his shoulder, trailing a finger lightly over his lips, repeating, “It’s okay,” over and over again. “You’re still trembling,” she whispered.
He was. He tensed, willing his muscles to solidify.
“Come up here,” Linc told her, lifting her onto him until she straddled his waist. He thickened under her. She rubbed herself on him, then pulled at the drawstring of his pants to slide them down over his hips.
Linc had a plan. If they had sex, they wouldn’t sleep. If they didn’t sleep, he couldn’t dream. If he couldn’t dream, he wouldn’t scare the shit out of her.
And for a little longer, he could forget Syria. The destruction. The blood. The death.
It wouldn’t last.
After they were finished, and Kylie was snuggled up next to him again, he knew all those terrible things waited for him in the shadows, ready to pounce on him, devour him the second he slipped out of consciousness.
Linc stared at the ceiling, listening to Kylie breathe, for the rest of the night.
6
Light was just spilling into the room when Kylie woke, warm and toasty from lying next to a human oven all night.
She smiled, turning her head to watch Linc sleep. He’d only surrendered to that oblivion a short time ago, she knew. Even in the dark, she’d been able to feel his alertness. She was glad he was sleeping now.
He needed the rest. And it also gave her a few moments to simply enjoy the beauty of his naked body tangled in the sheets. He was all man. So much man, it made her giddy to touch and be touched by him. She shivered at the delicious curve of his ass, dimpled and firm, the sweep of his spine, up to his broad, muscular shoulders. The scars didn’t detract from his perfection at all.
The shiver became a shudder when she thought of last night. The rage in his face when he’d nearly hit her.
The contradiction between the two sides of the man beside her was disconcerting.
