by Katie Knight
Licking his lips, he shifted up to his knees and looked down upon Meg. She looked like an angel, her skin flushed to a delicate pink. He wanted to capture this moment and hold onto it forever as a reminder of what he couldn’t have.
“Now, Ben. Please,” she panted, reaching for his waistband to tug the pants down so she could pump one hand over his swollen shaft, before positioning it at her center. He stilled, and frantically opened the drawer of the night stand to retrieve the box of condoms he’d found earlier. It might have been presumptuous, but he didn’t want to take chances when it came to Meg, and that meant being prepared to protect her during sex too, if she wanted him. Thank Christ she did, because he was holding onto his last thread of sanity. Ben shucked his pants the remainder of the way off leaving them in a pile near his sweatshirt, tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom down before repositioning himself between her thighs. He eased in slowly, making sure she was comfortable before he started rocking inside her. Every stroke was ecstasy, each movement tormented bliss. He’d never forget what she looked like the moment pleasure stole over her face, head tilted back, glossy hair fanned out over the white pillowcase, dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Her breath came out in short bursts as he worked to pleasure her, shifting to make sure he touched her in all her most sensitive places. Being here with her and seeing her like this took him back to all those nights they shared together and he found himself wanting tonight—now—to be special. She lifted her hands from where they’d clutched the sheets to slide up his arms and grip his shoulders. Arching her back, she opened her eyes as she came and he saw pure desire looking back at him as her climax rolled through her. Three words, ones he’d never uttered to another human being crossed his mind as he found his own release, but it wasn’t just the orgasm that had I love you hovering unspoken on his lips. It was the realization that he’d let her back into his heart, and in doing so, he had let himself become vulnerable. For the first time, he didn’t care. Even if it meant taking a chance, he wanted her in his life—as much of her as he could have. He rolled onto his back, holding Megan snug against him, so she was resting on his chest.
After several minutes had passed and their breathing returned to normal, Ben propped himself up on his elbows so he could look at her.
“What does it stand for? Your ink.” He traced his fingers over the colorful wings.
“How do you know it stands for something?” She tilted her head to the side and stared at him with soulful eyes.
“Once you told me you wanted to get a tattoo, but you were scared of the needle. You said if you ever did get any ink, it would have to be something meaningful.”
“You remember that?” Her jaw dropped open slightly.
He cringed at the disbelief laced in her voice. Clearly, he had done a piss poor job of showing her his emotions, how much she meant to him. “Yeah, sweetheart. I remember all of it.”
“It’s a symbol of freedom and internal beauty,” she said slowly, mulling over the words. “A reminder of what life should be—open to possibilities. It was at a time when I needed a reminder of that. When I was scared because I wasn’t sure where my journey would take me.” She bit her bottom lip and looked away.
Putting two fingers under her chin, he lifted her head to meet his eyes. “You got it after I enlisted.” He searched her face, already knowing the answer before she spoke.
“I did.” She sighed.
“Look at me, Meg,” he asked softly. “I hate that I caused you pain. That I left you adrift, unsure of where your future might take you. I’m glad you were empowered to get your tattoo, even if it was to celebrate your freedom from me.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood, and Meg offered him a slight smile. It was a start. “My leaving had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with all the shit going on in my head. I never want you to doubt your beauty—internal or external—or your worthiness to be loved.”
Her eyes shimmered, and she blinked a few times, then snuggled further into the crook of his arm. After a few minutes, her breathing deepened, and she tightened her hold against his waist, holding him close as she slept.
Contentment washed over him. He’d never expected to see the woman who stole his heart again, let alone make love to her. Every sensation had rocked him to the core, and to the very depths of his soul, he wanted Meg for his own. His woman. But what if she realized she was way out of his league or decided she couldn’t forgive him for their past? What if she left? It’s what he’d expected her to do the first time they dated and why he’d left in the first place. This time, he’d witnessed the lengths she’d go to trying to protect someone important to her, but could he ever really be important to her again? Meg would do anything for Logan, but Logan was easy to love—Ben wasn’t, as his past could vividly demonstrate. People he loved always left, and there was no reason why she’d be any different.
He’d learned a lot of things as a SEAL, but he still didn’t know how to build a strong, lasting relationship—the kind of relationship Megan should have. She deserved so much more than what he could give her.
Chapter Sixteen
Megan’s eyes fluttered open. She was tucked tightly into Ben’s side, one arm tossed around his waist, and his was around her shoulder. The fantastic sex had left her content and exhausted, and after the stress of the past few days, she wasn’t surprised she’d fallen asleep. Ben’s steady breathing told her he’d probably dropped off too. Uncertain of what would happen when he woke up, she cherished the quiet moment, memorizing every detail of what they had shared, how his body felt under her hands, and the look in his eyes when he told her she’d always been special to him. Had she ever felt so warm and safe? So thoroughly satisfied?
When they used to be intimate, sometimes he’d withdraw afterward. At first, she’d thought that he didn’t enjoy himself, that she’d done something wrong, but later when he’d told her bits and pieces of his upbringing, she had understood that he was fighting his own insecurities. The demons from his past. She’d done her best to make him feel loved and appreciated, but it hadn’t been enough. If she couldn’t convince him to trust her back then, would this time be any different?
It might, she realized. Ben had done a lot of growing up in the past few years. Maybe his time with the SEALS had solidified the fact that there were people who would have your back no matter what the circumstances were. If he could accept that his teammates were behind him one hundred percent, maybe he could let someone else into his life too and actually expect them to stick. Maybe he could see that he deserved someone who would be there to greet him when he returned from missions, who he could grow a family with, and plan for a bright future.
Maybe….
“Hey, sweetheart. What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” Ben stroked her hair, and she leaned into his touch. She’d never get enough of him, and tomorrow when they separated it was going to hurt like hell.
“Reminiscing a bit. Thinking about how loose and wonderful you made me feel. So much so that I dozed off.” She traced a small scar over his hip, then smoothed her hand over his chest before tucking it under her chin. The rise and fall of his chest rocked her gently as he drew in a breath.
“Keep touching me like that, and I’ll be ready again in no time,” he ground out. When she glanced down, she could already see him hardening just from her slight touch. His words gave her hope, even though they were only referencing the physical. If he wanted to be inside her again, that meant he hadn’t blocked her out completely. Maybe it was wrong of her to expect him to throw up his walls after they’d been intimate. He was a man now, not a confused college senior.
She glanced at the bedside clock, and her eyes widened. It had only been half an hour since they’d made love and fallen asleep. “That should be impossible,” she giggled.
“I don’t need much recovery time, sweetheart.” He continued to run his fingers through her hair. “But you need rest. I estimate we traveled ten miles yesterday. Close those eyes, the
helicopter will be here before you know it and this will all be over.”
There was a pang in her heart. This would all be over. Of course, she wanted to be out of this dangerous situation, but leaving on the helicopter also meant that she and Ben would go back to their own lives. He'd been acting so caring toward her, she nearly forgot that they were forced together by the plane crash. Ben gently slid his arm out from under her and sat up. The bed sheet slipped off when he shifted to retrieve one of the bottled waters on the nightstand, took a few gulps, and turned to pass it to her. Suddenly self-conscious, she sat up and pulled the comforter over her breasts. She took a small sip of water, needing the relief from the sudden dryness clenching her throat. He stayed on the edge of the bed for a moment with his back to her. Maybe he didn’t realize it yet, but he was beginning to withdraw from what they had just shared. Ben’s shoulders were slightly slumped, and he stared straight ahead as though he was warring with some intense internal struggle.
“Are you going to get some rest?” she asked, wishing she didn’t have to find a roundabout way to ask him if he was going to stay in bed with her.
“I need to do a perimeter check. Wouldn’t want anything or anyone to interfere with our flight to safety in the morning.”
She fought the urge to huff out a breath. It sounded like an excuse—but, of course, he was right. They needed to make sure the area remained a safe landing place for their rescuers. Still, it hurt that he was pulling away from her.
“I have to clean up, and then go check on Logan. Be safe.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and dropped her feet to the cold wood floor.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few,” Ben said with no real emotion.
Picking up the borrowed clothes thrown on the floor, she hurried to the master bathroom and closed the door behind her. With her back against the door, she could finally let her schooled expression crumple. A heaviness stole over her limbs, and it was hard to swallow down the lump in her throat. She was hurt that Ben had withdrawn from her so quickly, but maybe he had the right idea. She knew better than to think they’d be able to build a real relationship after this, but part of her had still hoped they might have a future. Stupid.
Ben might be great when they were faced with danger in the middle of nowhere, but how could she trust that he’d stick around once they were safe? She couldn’t. The answer left a gnawing ache in her gut. Withdrawing might be the best way to protect herself as well. Not that she could fully shield her heart from Ben at this point—because without a doubt, it was already beating for him and him alone. Maybe it had never stopped. But she didn’t need to let him see that she was hurting. She still had her pride, even if she didn’t have anything else.
She slipped on her pants, tying the strings as tightly as she could so they didn’t slide down her hips, then dragged the sweatshirt over her head. Looking in the mirror was the last thing she should do, but she couldn’t help herself.
As expected, the woman who looked back at her wore a heartsick expression, looked a little too thin, and had dark circles beneath her eyes. She splashed warm water on her face, sighed, and returned to the master bedroom. She’d walk straight through to the main hallway before she could say or do something ridiculous like beg Ben to stay with her. She didn’t need to control herself though, because Ben had already left the room. She padded down the hall, paying particular attention to keeping her step light. The door to Logan’s room creaked as she opened it, and she froze in her tracks. She didn’t want to wake the poor thing after all he’d been through.
From the glow of the tableside lamp, she could see the face she’d grown to love looking peaceful in sleep. Once she had dreamed of having a family with Ben, but now she knew those hopes would never come to fruition. Sure, she was still young—women successfully had children later on in life, too—but would she ever be able to picture that with another man? Ben was her once-in-a-lifetime, and as much as it killed her inside, she clearly wasn’t his. She shook off the melancholy thoughts and watched Logan sleep for a few more minutes.
Quitting her job at the marketing firm had been smart not only from a financial standpoint, as Logan’s parents paid her a generous salary and gave her the sweet little carriage house on their estate to stay in, but also from an emotional perspective. She loved her job just as she loved the sleeping child in front of her. Taking care of him was fulfilling in a way that her marketing job had never been. Logan could be a handful, but it never felt as though she was working. Being part of his life, witnessing each milestone alongside his parents, and being honored with the responsibility to care for him, was a joy. She closed the door gently and went back to the bedroom. She was emotionally drained after making love with Ben, and she was ready to drift into a dreamless sleep.
Ben was in the bedroom, looking as though he was about to film a seductive commercial for mattresses or something. It should be illegal for a man to look so good.
“I almost lost hope of you coming back.” Ben patted the bed beside him where she’d fallen asleep beside him earlier.
She wasn’t about to admit she was putting distance between them, hiding in Logan’s bedroom for a few minutes hoping Ben would fall asleep before she returned so she could sneak into bed without having to talk to him again. She changed the subject and slipped back into the bed, avoiding his gaze. “How was the perimeter check? Anything we should be concerned about?”
“No. All clear.” He touched the ends of her hair, surprising her. Ben kept confusing her; his actions and words just didn’t add up. One moment he was tenderly touching her and the next he was crossing his arms over his chest. “We should be able to rest easy tonight.”
“After the fire last night, I think it might be a long time before I sleep soundly, but I appreciate you being on the lookout.”
“You and Logan deserve to be protected. I won’t rest easy either until you’re both safe on the chopper.”
He shifted closer and draped his arm around her shoulder. Again, confusing as hell. “I’m glad we got to spend this time together, Meg.”
She was testing the waters, but she needed to understand how he was feeling—and if, as she suspected, he was looking for a way out, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she wanted more. “Making love to you was the closure I needed on all of our unfinished business.” Saying the words out loud made her want to sob against the pillowcase. “Now I know for sure that what we shared was nothing more than chemistry—something we could both get out of our systems with a night together. We both have our own lives now, and I’m thrilled that yours worked out the way you wanted it to.” Was that hurt that flashed in his eyes? Anger?
“There’s far more than chemistry going on here, Meg. Things have always been…complicated between us.” He looked at her with intense eyes, the space between them shimmering with unspoken emotion. No, this was not going to happen. She would not give in to his charms. He had done the leaving the first time, and she would be a complete fool to give him a second opportunity to hurt her again. Unfortunately, she feared it was too late to protect herself from getting hurt. The damage had been done. As much as she wanted to be with him, Ben was married to his job. There was no more space for her in his world now as there was then. After tomorrow, when the helicopter arrived to take them back to civilization, he’d be back out of her life. Before she could respond, Ben gave her a quick hug and a peck on the temple before falling asleep. Once he was out cold, she rolled over toward the edge of the mattress, putting some physical distance between them. She was more comfortable turning away from her feelings rather than letting him find out the truth.
Chapter Seventeen
Mark Slocum took a long drag from the cigarette positioned between his lips, then flicked the ash carelessly to the side of the cavern that he and his son were holed up in. The past twenty-four hours had been shit. The boy and his nanny should’ve been easy to burn to ash in that ancient matchstick mining shack, but a man with them—one that Mark and
Carl hadn’t expected—had helped them escape. They’d found a third set of tracks earlier that day, had chalked them up to a survivor they hadn’t known about, but had assumed that the mystery third person wouldn’t present much of an obstacle to their goal. As Mark watched the flames devour the building, glee like he’d never experienced rose up within him.
This was more than vengeance for his son—this was the pleasure he only found in causing death. He’d experienced it while hunting. Tracking something weaker than him, closing in on his prey…the rush as he released the trigger on his weapon, watching the blood seep out of the animal and soak the ground. But hunting people was a whole new thrill. Maybe he’d turned into a monster, but he had the doctor and anesthesiologist who killed his son to blame for that. Just another black mark on their list of sins. As the flames rose higher, a loud crack had ricocheted through the air. The next thing he knew, two figures were sprinting across the open field. The man carried the boy and held the woman’s hand as they ran. A few of their shots had almost hit their mark, but Mark and Carl had been caught off guard and hadn’t been in the best position to shoot.
His son had been too cautious while gathering information, too worried about drawing attention by asking a lot of questions. When Mark had taken him to task for it, Carl had whined that with his criminal background, he’d been lucky to get a job anywhere near an airport. His son didn’t want to lose his job, and that angered Mark. What could be more important to Carl than getting revenge for his little brother? He’d been proud when Carl had pinpointed the Hamilton boy’s flight, but he could see now that his son has done a half-assed job.
