Under Pressure

by Zoë Normandie

  With every sensation, she softened a little more, until it felt like she was completely his to do with as he wished. Like he’d finally won his prize, he tightened his hold on her, drawing her flat against him, feeling her breathe as he let his tongue tango with hers. Her mouth was just as sweet as could be, both wet and delicious. It was becoming a little too clear that he couldn’t get enough as he kissed her, adored her, consumed her—forgetting that what he knew would keep them apart.

  “Delta, you’re too much.” She moaned, tilting her head back as he kissed down her neck, feeling her running her hands up his biceps, toward his chest.

  “Matteo,” he corrected, surprising himself, aroused as hell from her exploration. “My name’s Matteo.”

  Raising his eyebrow, he grazed his teeth along her delicate neck, realizing that he’d never told anyone his real name except her. He wanted her like he’d never wanted a woman before and he was making it damn clear with his frenzied hunger.

  To her intensifying breathing, he added, grinning, “My mother had to fight my entire Italian family to name me that and not Michael.”

  She groaned his real name in response, something he knew he’d never get enough of. Running his hands down her back, feeling her hot, tight ass through those damn jeans, his cock pulsed in need, like it was ready to explode. Goddamn, she was something. They don’t make girls like her anymore, he thought, determined to feel every inch of her skin before the night was through. Logic had flown out of the window, along with any sense of care. He’d lost control—the only thing that mattered anymore was her body intertwined with his.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Present day

  Delta flipped the invitation to his Medal of Honor ceremony back and forth in his bloodied fingers as he sat in the shadows on the couch in his living room, watching the street in front of his house. It was past midnight, but he couldn’t sleep.

  He couldn’t blame the aching feeling in his fists for keeping him awake, despite how hard he’d pummeled Hunter at the bar. Hell, he should have done something a lot worse. Watching the sniveling coward wrap his arms around Kendra had burned so deeply, almost as much as seeing the hate on Kendra’s face as she’d accused him of fucking around. Familiar tension coiled through Delta’s body as he tried to push the thought away.

  Why the fuck were they there?

  Running through scenarios, letting his exhausted, hurting body sink into the couch that he never sat on, he wished for sleep. He’d been burning the candle at both ends for too long. Enviously, he watched his dog, Timber, curled up at his feet and snoring. Her warm body immobilized him.

  I’ve been away too much lately, he thought, as he watched his good girl sleep. He wasn’t taking care of her, let alone himself. He was lucky to have a good neighbor. Mrs. Romano, who was there for them both, like the mother he’d lost.

  Delta closed his eyes, ordering sleep, unable to stop occasionally squinting to check out the quiet street, as if expecting someone to show up. What was he—an idiot? Kendra wasn’t coming, he reminded himself. She’d seen enough. She’d had enough.

  And, damn, he’d had enough too.

  He’d let her slip through his fingers once again. Or, more accurately, pushed her away violently…with intent. What the hell was he supposed to do? They didn’t belong together. It was something they both needed to end, though neither of them seemed to be able to. An unrelenting anger filled his body, directed more at himself than anything. Through his own selfishness, all he was doing was causing her to suffer. She made it all too damn clear, and she wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t right—at least, not right for her.

  Piercing his thoughts, his cell pinged with a new message, and he lunged to grab it off the coffee table, like a junkie. Is it her? He was sorely disappointed to see that it was not. It was Warren.

  Alive?

  Barely. What’s up?

  Checking in on my asset—making sure you aren’t dead.

  Nice guy.

  Who else is going to do it? That lady cop you’ve been seeing?

  Are you fishing?

  Can you blame me?

  Delta clenched his jaw and flipped off his cell, not wanting to hear it anymore. Warren was the well-meaning big brother that Delta couldn’t handle right now. So he sat in silence, feeling too much pain for his own tolerance. He needed a distraction.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in his driveway on the other side of his truck. When he bolted upright, even Timber awoke with a start. The old service dog was no stranger to threat and stalked alongside Delta as they looked through the edge of his living room window. Nothing was out there.

  Nothing that he could see.

  Snapping into work mode, Delta stalked through his house—through the living room, into the kitchen at the back where he’d kept the light on. He flexed, feeling that icy heat in his veins, as he approached the side door off the kitchen, the one that led to the driveway.

  He heard rustling outside the door. He was right. Someone was there. Deadly focused, he inhaled slowly, calming his racing heart. Instructing Timber to stay back, he flung the door open, establishing six-foot-three inches of threatening force in the doorframe.

  An elderly Mrs. Romano stood there, shaking in an oversized wool coat with a frilly pajama dress flowing out from underneath. Her eyes widened in fright as she gazed up to Delta, who immediately calmed, jumping out onto his stoop to greet her.

  “Mrs. Romano, what are you doing up so late?” he said apologetically. He couldn’t contain his astonishment and reached out to stabilize her shaking frame.

  As he held her arm, offering support, she regarded him with worried eyes.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you, son. I saw your light on. I just—” she began, but didn’t finish, gazing back at her house.

  “Go on,” Delta urged, dropping his voice to her level.

  Tightening her coat, she continued, “I woke up and I heard a noise—like someone was in my house. All I could think of…was to come here.”

  Timber finally broke free from behind Delta and rushed forward to lick at Mrs. Romano’s hands. The two of them were like old friends. As Mrs. Romano leaned over to pet the dog’s long, silky coat, a smile broke across her face. Timber was the friend she needed.

  “I’ll go check your house,” Delta said quickly, assessing her property. “I’ll make sure no one was there.”

  Her voice cracked, sad and rattled. “I don’t think there was anyone in my house.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Sunken, Mrs. Romano nodded, allowing Delta to quickly check. He didn’t doubt that she was right. No one had been in her house. It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten scared in the middle of the night since her husband had died. It’s hard for her being alone.

  And vulnerable.

  After he had Mrs. Romano safely back at her house, he insisted she keep Timber for the night. His dog practically lived there half the time anyway and would be more than happy to get a homemade almond biscotti before bed. When the US Navy had retired Timber, no one could have ever expected the laser-focused service animal would be eating cookies on a frilly bedsheet with an elderly Italian lady.

  As Delta got back home, he flicked off the lights, determined to find sleep. Falling down on the cool, dark sheets of his bed, he stared at the ceiling. The entire house was silent. His mind was anything but. Lying on his back, he was too damn awake.

  He had one thing on his mind.

  The memory of Kendra on that hotel bed, her back arching underneath him, pleading.

  Closing his eyes, he felt a rush of unwanted emotion that he fought hard to keep under control. There was something so different about the way she’d felt, so much softer. Squishier, even, like she’d gained a few pounds. He fucking liked that—really liked that. He loved feeling those new curves. As he ruminated, he found himself shutting his eyes slowly. The last thought before he drifted was that one day, he had to tell Kendra the truth.

  He fell into
a semi-comatose state, like a drunken sailor without the booze, and that was exactly why it took him a little longer than usual to come to his senses when he heard a scratching noise emanating from down the hallway in his house—near the kitchen. Groggy as fuck, he took a second or two to snap back to reality. The scratching persisted, barely audible, so he jumped off his bed, rubbing his hands on his face to wake up. He reached to his side table, gulping water to help.

  Listening, he crept out of his room—just enough to see all the way down the hallway into his kitchen, where the side door was situated. He realized that someone was breaking in. Through the door came a female frame. Then he saw it—a glint of blonde hair as she quietly shut the door, creeping low along the kitchen. Well, look who came to play, he thought as his heart raced.

  Kendra hadn’t stepped foot on his property since that one night she’d slept over…a year ago.

  He slipped back into his bedroom, hiding back against the wall. Since his entire house was silent and dark, he had full advantage, not that he needed it. Behind his bedroom door, he waited and waited as he listened to her approach, hating all the shit he was feeling. Here she was, breaking in, which he was both giddy with anticipation and abjectly furious about.

  She was good. He’d have to give her that. If he didn’t know what he was doing, he may have been surprised as she crept around the corner, treading into his bedroom. She looked left and right, obviously there to assess. Looking at his bed and obviously realizing that he wasn’t in it, an enraged grunt escaped her lips.

  “I fucking knew it!” she spat, her hurt showing. “Deserter.”

  The accusation rushing his senses. He slammed the door and shoved her down on the bed. She yelped, struck her fists out and connected with his jaw, driving pain up his face. Damn, she hit hard. Feverish, he pinned her down, subduing her wild movements. With a sadistic grin, he stared down on her until she gave up, realizing she couldn’t win. He was too strong, too big and far too determined.

  “Knew what?” he demanded, enjoying how she writhed under his grasp.

  “Fuck you.”

  He pushed down harder, driving more weight onto her wrists to get her attention and send a clear message.

  “Why the fuck are you here?” Delta questioned.

  “I think that much is damn clear.”

  Wincing in probable pain, she sucked at her teeth, but she stopped fighting back. He let up a bit but stayed firmly in control of her, waiting for her next move. But then he saw something bleed across her face that he didn’t expect.

  Hopelessness.

  Stunned, he released her right away and edged back. That wasn’t the Kendra he knew. As he was gazing down on her, she gradually caught her breath and rubbed her freed wrists. She tilted her chin up to him, fire in her eyes and angry as all hell.

  “Who is she?”

  “She calls herself Sky,” he replied slowly, but Kendra cut in.

  “Sky?” she snapped, pushing her agenda. “Are you fucking her?”

  “No,” he said, categorically.

  It apparently wasn’t good enough. Kendra sprung up on his bed, shooting a condemning look, unmistakable tears in her reddening eyes only enhancing the piercing marine blue of her irises.

  “Why do you keep lying to me? Why can’t you tell me the truth?”

  “I told you from the beginning—” he started, but Kendra cut him off once again.

  “What? That you are the fucking worst?” She jumped up and shoved his chest. “Why do you keep luring me in just to push me away? I never wanted this.”

  Never. The word hit him hard, and he felt a darkness come over him. How could she say never when she was right in front of him—in his room? She moved to leave, but he stepped in front of her.

  “Let me go.” She heaved at him again, but he caught her wrists, yanking her into him.

  “Like hell.”

  “You used me,” she cried out, staring into his dead eyes. “You’ve always just used me. I—”

  His grip on her tightened so she’d stop, causing her to wince again. Incensed as all hell, he curled his lip, staring her down. Watching her hate him, he fell silent, unwilling to give her anything else. As the burning rage inside stilled him, the tension in her wrists subsided. She’d stopped fighting back…hopeless.

  Her head dropped, her gaze downcast, giving him a view of her bright ponytail that was starting to look fucked up. Her shoulders were heaving, and Delta stared. He oscillated between painfully aware and just numb, like a light flickering on its last legs. As her body started shaking, he released his grip on her wrists, letting them fall back into her. She was crying.

  But he’d fallen silent.

  “You’ve never given a fuck what I wanted.” She wept.

  “When have you ever told me what you wanted?” he snarled, removed.

  “Christ, what is the matter with you?”

  On autopilot, he pulled her trembling body flat against his, hovering his mouth near her ear. Blinking rapidly, like he was trying to regain lucidity, he found his lips grazing her ear, and he took in the scent of her hair. Inhaling her brought him back, somewhere. His teeth found her ear again, tasting it—teasing it. It was the one thing he knew how to do.

  There was something about Kendra that immediately made his cock ache, springing him into action even amid a bloody war. Near her, he could rely on feeling a strong, uncontrollable urge to kiss her senseless and fuck her until she screamed his name, until he could pretend she was his. Sex was easy, especially with her.

  He dropped his head even lower, slowly kissing down the side of her face, angling it just right for him. In a barely audible sigh, she let three words slip that sounded like ‘please don’t stop’. Good, because he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want her to want it to stop.

  “What was that?” he growled, demanding her deference, needing her to confess.

  He kept on, using his best tactics against her, getting harder as she breathed the words again. They were maybe a little less coherent but exactly what he wanted to hear, not that he needed an official invitation. She let out a soft moan as he kept her jaw gripped with one hand, provoking her as he kissed up her face, back to her ear. Her responsiveness drove him wild, and he settled comfortably into control. With his other hand, he explored her, up and over her breasts until he got more of the reaction he craved, until he felt her back arch towards him in arousal. It was always about winning.

  “You know why they started calling me Delta?”

  “Why?” she breathed out, closing her eyes.

  “They said I’m the difference between a dream and a nightmare.” He recalled the words of his chief after his first grisly battle.

  “Are you my nightmare?” Her voice cracked, resentful and bitter, throwing sand in his face.

  He drew his head back, locking eyes with her. She didn’t know the half of it. He wanted to tell her the truth. There’s something wrong with me.

  She inched out of his arms, taking a step back to the bed. He stalked her, stepping to where she stood. She sucked in a breath as she observed him transforming, fear crossing her face. He liked seeing her scared. Hunger overwhelming him, blood coursed through his body, with that same eerie icy heat. That side of him—that uncontrollable side—broke out of whatever thin veil of civility he had. She’d never harbored illusions that he was a nice guy anyway.

  “I hate what you do to me,” she ground out, igniting something in him that he couldn’t explain. “I hate that I can’t trust you.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  She bit her lip, tears blinking out of her eyes, and whispered back, “Yes.”

  “Good,” was all he could grunt out before plunging to take her mouth, startling her.

  Shocked, she stiffened in his arms and half-heartedly pushed back, refusing him. But he wouldn’t be denied, not with her standing in his room, right before his bed. Giving her one more damn good reason to hate him, he savagely kissed her, whether she liked it or not.

&nbs
p; Her plump lips parted to welcome his tongue, proving to him that she didn’t hate him at all, allowing him to taste the wetness inside her that he’d been fantasizing about all week. As he held her jaw, angling her mouth perfectly to receive him, she pulled at his shirt, finding her way to his core. She groaned as she felt up his abs, and he knew why. Maybe he was a cocky motherfucker, but he wasn’t stupid, and he was happy to hear her adoration. He tore his shirt off, sending it to the corner of the room. Her subsequent gasp drove his cock to attention, standing high and alert.

  He locked eyes with her and remained silent, but a terrible smile spanned his mouth. It was damn well for the best that she thought she hated him. It made things a lot easier. She had no idea what was coming. In that moment, all he wanted was to feel her skin underneath his, giving herself to him, telling him what he wanted to hear. Aggressive as fuck, he dove and took her mouth again, kissing to thrill and forever brand her as his. She’d never forget it.

  He gripped her hair, intertwining and controlling, and she willingly received his tongue, exactly how he wanted.

  “Are we doing this again?” Kendra whispered in between kissing.

  “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  She made quick work of dropping his jeans and boxers to the floor, letting him kick them off as he stood before her naked and raw. That little breath that came out of her mouth as she watched him in the moonlight was enough for him. He pumped the length of his manhood as he pushed her back onto the bed, ready to undress her and appreciate her exactly the same. The only thing more welcome than the fact that she was giving him a much-needed release was the fact that she was making him a little less numb in the process.

  With no effort at all, he had her shirt and bra off, leaning her back down to rip away her jeans and panties. He gave no fucks, shredding lace in the process. Once she was stripped, he looked down in pleasure at his prize sitting before him on the edge of the bed—gorgeous and breathtaking. The way her hourglass figure curved out just right at her hip was something he needed to sink his teeth into—and he planned on it.