* * *
Scott
* * *
Don’t hate him? Don’t hate him! She wanted to rip his head off. No, wait. She wanted to rip his balls off first, feed them to him, and then rip his head off. She wanted—
“T?” Lyons’s deep voice called to her, tossing out an anchor she desperately needed.
Except she couldn’t lean on Lyons for support. Theirs was a working relationship. It had rules associated with it, and while the team shared kids’ birthdays and holiday parties, the destruction of her relationship wasn’t something she wanted everyone knowing about. Not yet. Maybe never.
“Holy hell, T!” He straddled the bench and sat beside her. He leaned in close, placed a hand on her shoulder, and lifted her chin with his other hand. “What the hell happened? Is everything okay?”
The words on the computer screen blurred behind her tears.
Shit! She scrubbed at her cheeks. She didn’t need to be leaking tears. Not here. Not in the middle of a chow hall and most definitely not in front of Lyons. Of all the people to see her come apart, why did it have to be the one man she couldn’t show any weakness around? Her job was hard enough, and while she never tried to be a man, she worked hard for the men in her team to not see her as weak and vulnerable.
Lyons scooted closer. Was he going to hug her? No! He couldn’t—
He put his arm around her shoulders while she swiped at her tears and yanked out of the hug he was about to lay on her.
“I’m fine. I’m fucking fine. Nobody died.”
“Then…what?” The concern in his voice pulled at her, making her want nothing other than to lean on him for support.
She pointed at the screen of the computer. “You were right, Lyons. Fucking right. Scott’s a damn douche bag.”
It killed her to admit Lyons was right about Scott. It gutted her to admit it at all. This was huge. Her team was tight. They didn’t spill the secrets of their lives, but this would be a bomb blowing up the integrity of the team. They’d all be looking at her, wondering if her head was screwed on straight and worried about her combat readiness.
Well, she wasn’t some weak-as-shit female who was going to fall apart because she’d gotten a goddamn Dear John letter. Her hand trembled as she ran it against the smoothness of her hair. Not a Dear John letter. She was the victim of a Dear Jane email. Shit, more fat globs of weakness spilled from her eyes.
“T? What the hell is this?” Lyons asked.
“Did you read it?”
“No. I’m not going to read your mail.”
She turned the computer toward him and pointed. “Read it. Read the damn letter, and get your I told you sos over and done with.”
Fine tremors had her hands shaking. Her stomach was in full revolt, too, threatening to bring up all the calories she’d shoveled down not moments before. The room seemed smaller. The air thicker. She couldn’t fucking breathe.
“I’m out of here,” she pronounced.
Lyons leaned in and scanned the screen. “Shit, T. That’s the worst.”
She practically vaulted out of her seat, intent on getting some air. It was hot as hell outside, but at least she’d be able to breathe. It was too stuffy in the chow hall. And she didn’t need any nosy eyes watching a major cry. Already, she was drawing stares.
Lyons closed the laptop and tucked it under his arm. He was up and beside her before she took three steps.
“Leave me alone,” she said, yanking her arm out of his grip.
He took hold of her arm and steered her around a table full of young airmen. “Keep your shit together, T,” he said, lowering his voice.
“My shit is locked up tight,” she countered.
With pressure on her arm, he propelled her toward the exit. Her throat was closing up, tightening with the sobs she wanted to spill.
“No, you’re losing it. And everyone is interested in the major with connections to Angel Fire. Now, move.”
She headed outside. The ever-present dust created a haze and washed out the sun. Just past noon, they were coming into the worst heat of the day. A wall of heat slammed into her, making her stumble. She tried to shrug out of Lyons’s grip, but he tightened his fingers.
“Let me go,” she said with a growl.
“Not until we talk this out.”
“I’m not talking anything out with you.”
“Yes, you are.” The calm confidence of his voice nearly had her caving in, giving him what he demanded. Except it wasn’t a demand. The pain ripping across his face mirrored the ache in her heart.
She pulled up short and ripped her arm away from the tightness of his grip. Somehow, he’d taken them around the corner of the building. There was a little shade but no relief from the heat. And there were no people.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” she said, “but just fucking stop!” Stop being so damn nice, she wanted to scream. She needed to hate men right now, not feel their comfort, and most specifically, she didn’t need to be comforted by Lyons. “Let me have a moment alone.”
“You don’t need alone, T. You need a friend.”
A friend? Who the hell was he kidding? They were the furthest thing from friends. Teammates, they shared a professional relationship. The rigors of their job made that connection tighter and closer than family at times, but Lyons, with his insufferable flirting ensured friendship was impossible.
“I don’t need a friend. I need…” Shit, what did she need?
Scott had found someone else, and there was no doubt in her mind the reason behind his letter. Scott was an ass. A total douche-bag. He’d cheated, probably had been sleeping with whomever it was for some time. What had started out as a lonely fuck for him turned serious between their last email exchange and when he wrote that god-awful message.
A keening cry escaped her throat. It hurt so bad. Her heart rattled behind her rib cage, thundering with betrayal and the loss of her future. It felt like her heart was going to explode.
“T!” Lyons backed her up against a wall and behind a stack of crates and supplies.
He towered over her, his broad shoulders and rippling terrace of muscles impossible not to notice as they angled down to the V cut of his waist. And his pants outlined just enough of a bulge beneath his uniform to make her throat go dry. These were not the thoughts she needed to be having about Lyons.
But it did give her an idea. Turnabout was fair play. If Scott could fuck some chick while she was away, saving lives, then there was nothing keeping her from doing the same. She needed a revenge fuck. It wouldn’t hurt Scott. He’d already shown her exactly how unimportant she was, but it would make her feel better. For a time.
She fell back against the building and slid down. With her butt on the ground, she folded her legs to her chest and buried her face against her knees. Deep, sobs billowed up from her throat and crawled out into a gut-wrenching screech. She hated Scott. She hated Lyons. She couldn’t afford for him to see her like this.
“Go away!” she yelled. “Just leave me alone.”
He squatted down, hovering over her, but when she refused to look him in the eye, he vented a deep sigh. Without a word, he shifted. Twisting around, he mirrored her pose. Back against the wall, he brought his knees up, but where she plastered her tear-stained face against her knees, he propped his elbows and tilted his head back against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You deserve better. You deserve to have a man worshipping at your feet. I’m sorry about what I said about him. I never meant it. I was just teasing—shit. What can I do?”
Why was he upset? She was the one whose life had fallen apart.
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” She stopped crying long enough to get a few words out.
“I’d never leave you alone, T. That’s not the kind of man I am.”
Well, she wished he were that kind of man. She wished a whole lot of things. Right now, all she could think about was getting back at Scott. She’d fuck the whole base if she though
t it would piss Scott off. If it wouldn’t mean the end of her career, she’d consider doing something a whole lot worse. Except she couldn’t do that to her team. And she wouldn’t do that to Lyons. But, with her heart breaking in two, she’d have to do something to put Scott firmly in her past.
Chapter Seven
Revenge
She would’ve stayed in that small gap between buildings for days if possible. Lyons’s presence comforted her. His strength fortified her, but most importantly, he didn’t force her to share any of her messy emotions. His silence became a bastion of strength in an odd and comforting way. It surprised her how easy it was to simply sit beside him and let her tears fall until they stopped completely.
He said nothing, which was a good thing. As the anger built within her, her thoughts turned dark, selfish, and entirely unprofessional.
As one of the few women on a forward-deployed base, she had an unusual opportunity to hunt men for purely carnal release. The only thing she needed to figure out was how to do it. Who to do it with. And where to do it, so she didn’t get caught. Did she fuck the first man who crossed her path? Was a revenge fuck even worth it? Why not? Why was she held to a different standard merely because of her sex?
Fuck convention. Fuck Scott. Fuck her fucking life.
Some nameless man wasn’t going to solve her problems, but he might fill the emptiness for a moment. It had been nearly six months since her deployment began. Six months of unfulfilled dreams. Six months of waiting for a reunion with a man who loved her but was no longer in love with her. What the hell did that even mean?
She gripped the fabric of her BDU overblouse and twisted her fingers. It hurt so damn much.
“I’m tired,” she said. “I’m just so damn tired.”
“T,” Lyons said, “it’s not the end of the world. That asshole is a douche bag. He doesn’t even know what he lost. You’re worth so much more.”
“Easy for you to say.” It soured her gut for him to see her this way. “You weren’t engaged. He was my one.”
Except, right now, it was Lyons’s presence that fired her pulse and sent it racing, and it didn’t help when he moistened his lips with his tongue. Her fingers fluttered as she pressed them against her temples.
His head canted as he studied her. “No, he wasn’t.” He leaned against her until their temples touched. “He wasn’t your one.”
Perhaps Lyons was right about that. She didn’t need her one. She needed someone who could be her right now. Lyons’s proximity heated her blood, but he was the last person she could do anything with. She needed to get away from him before he filled her with more than the smoldering presence of his heat. She considered her retreat and climbed to her feet. Lyons followed suit, mirroring her actions and moving to stand in front of her.
“Well, I’m tired of saving myself for a man who doesn’t appreciate me.”
“Good.” Lyons’s eyes locked on her face. He reached out and cupped her jaw. The thick calluses of his fingers scratched against her skin. “Like I said, you’re worth more.”
She pried her gaze away from his, but he remained frustratingly close. His exhales seared her skin, making her shiver despite the heat. They’d worked in close proximity for months, but this was the first time her heart missed a beat in his presence. He inched closer, maneuvering into a position that brought his lips achingly and dangerously close for a kiss. They’d passed hours and days in easy conversation in the field, but now, she found it difficult to breathe or form a coherent thought in his presence.
Ignoring the tingling in her chest, the hitch in her breath, or the unmistakable throbbing between her legs, she turned her head. “I know,” she said, “and I’m going to prove it.”
And, soon, because being close to Lyons did strange things to her insides. Her nipples had tightened, and her entire being was painfully aware of the man hovering over her.
“You don’t need to prove anything.” His timbre flowed through her in a smooth, hypnotic rhythm. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”
Her mind slipped because, for the briefest moment, she imagined the impossible, but then she shook her head to dispel those thoughts. “I don’t need to prove anything, but I do need to get laid. Scott’s not holding me back…not anymore.”
“Wait! What?” He shifted to gape at her. “What do you mean?” His lungs heaved with the clipped tone of his voice.
“If Scott has found his new fuck toy, I’m going to find mine.”
“T!” Lyons gripped her arms. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
She pressed her palms against his chest and pushed him away. Her decision was made. “I am. I’m going to—”
“Do what?” His expression paled, making her insides knot with indecision. “What exactly are you going to do?”
“Nothing you aren’t planning on doing yourself.” Her muscles tensed with the bunching of his muscular frame.
“What do you think I plan on doing?” Fury filled his features, and her legs felt weak under the gravity of his gaze.
“I know you. New base, fresh meat. You’re going to find some nameless fuck. Why judge me for doing what you do without a thought? It’s no different.”
“What the hell kind of person do you think I am?” His eyes clouded, and he dug his fingers into her arms.
“Come on,” she countered, surprised at the anger building inside. Her pulse went ballistic, and her blood buzzed in her veins like an angry swarm of bees. Who the hell was he to judge her actions? “Every time we come here, you find a way to sweet-talk some unsuspecting airman into your bed. Why should the rules be any different for me?”
“Because,” he said, “this isn’t you.”
“You have no idea who I am.” Or what she was capable of. All she wanted was to lose herself in a mindless fuck. “Thank you for sitting with me. I appreciate it, but I don’t need you to babysit me. Despite what you think, I can take care of myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t.” His voice boomed through the oppressive heat. “Just saying, don’t go off half-cocked.”
She laughed. “That’s exactly what I plan on doing, Lyons. I’m getting me a little bit of cock. Stop treating me like your little sister. It’s overkill and frankly more than a little annoying.”
His features pinched. “Don’t be an ass, T. It doesn’t suit you. And, for the record, the last thing I think when I look at you is you being my little sister.” He swept his arm wide. “You know what? Go ahead. Head out there. Find a guy. Find two. Fuck them all. But don’t come back, complaining about how you made a mistake, feel like shit, or trashed your career.”
“I’m not—” Her voice tightened, but he wouldn’t let her finish her thought.
“Yes, yes, you are. You do this, and you’ll regret it forever.” His powerful shoulders bunched, and his lips pressed into a thin, merciless line of disapproval.
“The only thing I regret is discussing my sex life with you.” She tried to sound indifferent, but that entire statement was a complete lie.
He shifted closer, and his fingers went to her neck. She gasped as his grip tightened and shuddered at the growl in his voice.
“I’m telling you, this is a stupid move.” He leaned in, pressing his hard body against hers.
His breath fanned over her cheeks, and she stared up into the darkening shadows of his eyes. The artery in his neck hammered, and his lips floated over hers, close and yet still too far for the kiss she thought he might give. A kiss she very much wanted to explore.
“It’s a dick move.” His head slanted, and his fingers tightened.
She licked her lips and parted them. His entire body tensed. Then, in one move, he released her throat and stumbled back.
“Shit, T, that’s saying something, considering…”
“Yeah, right.” She rubbed her arms and stared at the ground, unable to meet his gaze. She didn’t know if she’d find lust or disgust in his expression, but right now, she couldn’t face either. “I get it, Lyons. I
get it every day. You never let me forget I’m not good enough or strong enough. Your disapproval is a constant presence, but I work my ass off to earn my place. Not once have I ever let them or you down.”
Except she felt that was exactly what was happening now. What did he expect? Did he expect her to live like a nun? Double standards were wrong for a reason.
His shoulders slumped. “If that’s what you want to turn this into, then go for it, but I never once said you weren’t capable of doing your job. You can’t put that on my shoulders. If you’re going to fuck up your career, at least use a little protection.” He rummaged in his pocket and tossed a foil packet. The condom wrapper bounced off her chest and fell to the ground.
Lyons stomped off, leaving his disapproval hanging heavy in the air. She didn’t need any of his shit, nor did she need him to bless an activity that was rightfully none of his business. His reputation as a ladies’ man was legendary. He never came seeking her blessing for the next woman occupying his bed. So, why should she?
How exactly was she supposed to find a bed partner for the night? Did it even have to be night? Ugh. It shouldn’t be difficult, yet she found herself completely at a loss. Never once had she been in a position to do the hunting.
With Lyons’s disappearance, she bent and retrieved the foil condom packet. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she’d need one. Men always provided that necessary piece of the puzzle, and she had a five-year piece of plastic protection nestled inside her womb. No babies for her—at least, not until she decided it was time. In all honesty, the last time she’d used a condom was after having a talk with Scott about monogamy and testing. They were both clean and monogamous.
Correction.
She had been monogamous. Evidently, Scott had been incapable of keeping it in his pants.
A cursory examination of the foil packet revealed no rips, tears, or pinholes. Tucking it into the breast pocket of her fatigues left her with only one last thing to do: find a man.
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