Forged in Fire

by Jessica Scott

  She rested her head against his upper arm, wanting, needing to be closer than she was. “I’m so sorry, Sal.”

  It was a long time before he moved. And when he did, he rocked her world a little more.

  In a thousand years, she never would have expected his reaction. Maybe she’d hoped for mind-blowing sex. Maybe sweet, sensual sex. Maybe rough and violent, up against the door, releasing all the pent up energy in a brilliant burst of passion.

  Instead, Sal Bello surprised her. He shifted and wrapped his arms around her, tugging her close until her head rested against his chest, his cheek pressed against her head. She was surrounded by him, engulfed by his strength and warmth and yet had the strangest sensation that she was the one offering the comfort.

  The simplicity of the gesture, the quiet need in his embrace, nearly undid her.

  Sex would have been easier. Less complicated. Less risky for that damned traitor in her chest racing beneath his touch. She felt him shudder and closed her eyes, held on for the storm when it broke.

  She couldn’t pull away. Didn’t even consider it. Could do nothing less than simply let him lean for however long he needed.

  Life. The Army. None of that mattered wrapped in Sal’s arms. She was exactly where she needed to be right then.

  He leaned back after an eternity, maybe more. “I warned you when I fell apart, it was a disaster.”

  She shifted then, moving to straddle him. She cupped his cheeks and didn’t remark on the dampness beneath her palms. She slid her thumbs over the hard line of his jaw. “If this is your idea of messy, we’ve got to have a serious discussion about how you’ve been smothering your emotional growth.”

  “You scared me today,” he whispered. His fingertips were solid and warm on her back. There was a soft breeze against her lower back and she realized he’d slipped his hands beneath her uniform. “I’ve never wanted to strangle someone more in my life. You scared the living shit out of me.”

  “I’ve got a bad habit of doing stupid things in my life. You’re probably going to have to get used to it.” She kept her words light, desperately trying to ease the tension beneath her heart.

  “Not funny.” But his lips quirked in the low light.

  “It’s a little funny.”

  He reached up, threading his fingers in the bun that had come loose at the base of her neck. “You’re going to make me an old man before my time.”

  “You were already an old soul way before you met me.” She leaned down, brushing her lips against his. His fingers flexed against her back, his body tensed beneath hers.

  “I don’t know how to do this.” A broken whisper, filled with fear and need.

  She traced her fingers along his hairline, dragging her nails gently over his skin. “It’s really very simple. You take off your pants, I take off mine—”

  He kissed her then and it was a violent storm of emotions spilling into her, taking her breath and stealing any further thought. A cascade of pleasure tingled over her skin and she shivered, sliding closer until she was pressed against his erection.

  “You know that’s not what I meant,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Really? I must be losing my touch on reading situations.”

  His lips quirked at the edges and his eyes warmed, chasing away at least a few of the haunted shadows beneath them. “You know, you’re really hell on the male ego. I’m trying to lay my heart at your feet and you’re cracking jokes.”

  Her throat tightened and she sucked in a hard breath, trying to clear her lungs. But the emotion that simple declaration dragged out of the depths of her bruised and battered soul nearly undid her. She brushed her lips against his, trying desperately to speak without her voice breaking. “We’ll figure it out, Sal,” she whispered, needing to end the seriousness of this conversation before everything came spilling out and he saw the broken and insecure woman she hid from the world.

  “It’s complicated.” His fingers tightened at the base of her neck. “This isn’t just sex anymore.”

  She stilled, leaning back to look down at him and what she saw looking back at her nearly broke her. Needing an escape, she leaned down, brushed her lips against his. “Let’s focus on the simple things right now.” She grazed her teeth along the bottom edge of his jaw.

  She nipped the bottom edge of his ear. “I’m glad you’re here, Sal.” She sucked gently on the sensitive skin at the base of his throat. “I need you.”

  * * *

  “That’s a hell of an ego boost.” He tipped his head to one side, giving her access to his throat. He was vulnerable. Exposed. “And I’m not someone who usually needs my ego stroked.”

  “I’ll stroke something,” she whispered, her breath hot on his ear. The cold dead knot of fear beneath his heart loosened just a bit, maybe more.

  He lowered his forehead to her shoulder and laughed. “Sad trombone noise. That comment is about as bad as my green on medical comment.”

  She leaned back, grinning. “We can play a game called command and staff where we make up innuendos for the different parts of the slide show. It’ll make the commanders update briefs so much more interesting when we’re deployed.”

  He pulled her close then, abruptly, one hand at the center of her back, gripping her tightly against him, crushing the air from her lungs.

  He hadn’t thought about that. About having her downrange with him.

  About having her in combat, on the roads. His brain had been avoiding that connection until that very moment and his heart finally caught up.

  He held her close then, breathing her in and trying to find a place to stash the fear that might just destroy him.

  He didn’t move for a long moment.

  “Sal.”

  She leaned back, nudging his chin up. “Hey.” A brush of lips. “Baggins is okay. He’s safe.”

  “Because of you.” He cupped her face, his palms rough and warm against her skin. “I’ve never met anyone like you before, Holly.”

  She made a warm sound in her chest. “Nice to know I’m unique in your world.”

  His thumb slipped over her cheekbone. A gentle smoothing stroke. “Infinitely so.”

  She rocked against his erection, arching in his lap until her core was tight against him. “So about that pants-off thing?”

  He stood then, his hands firm against her thighs, crushing her against him and stepped inside her front door, shutting out the world. She wrapped her thighs around his hips and gripped him and goddamn if she didn’t move a little closer to him.

  “I always had a fantasy about this.” She locked her feet together behind his ass.

  “Which part?”

  “The whole standing-against-the-wall thing.”

  The sound that came from him was part growl, part pain. He moved slowly, then, claiming her mouth, his lips nudging hers open. It was a gentle kiss, filled with a thousand unsaid things that made her blood pool between her thighs and pain squeeze her heart. Because this was going to hurt.

  He pushed her against the door. The cool smooth wood was firm against her spine, trapping her between him and the house. The pressure, though—the pressure where he rocked against her—was exquisite. Pain and pleasure twisting tighter together until they overwhelmed her. There was a tension in him, a tightness in his body beyond the sexual heat rioting between them. He needed this.

  And Holly was ready for what she felt building. In him. Between them.

  Tonight could be about release. Hard and fast. She could save the emotion, the warmth in her heart, for another time.

  She dropped her legs and he released her, slowly so that she slid down his body until her feet hit the floor. She reached between them, undoing the belt of her uniform pants and sliding the buttons free one by one. A surge of female power rocked through her as he watched her, his eyes filled with dark emotion.

  “Here,” she whispered. Waited until he met her gaze.

  And then turned slowly away, offering herself the only way she knew how. Com
pletely open, exposed. His.

  She arched her back, lifting her hips in silent offering. It was a cold, nervous moment.

  She waited, watching him watch her. And then he moved, his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her close. Her back to his chest, she felt the naked heat of his body against her ass.

  “Wait.” A growl against her neck. She heard the rip of a foil packet. She didn’t care where he’d had that stashed. All she cared about was the lack of warmth against her back, the cold lick of air conditioning against her skin.

  And then he was there, his body rough and hard against hers. A single hard movement and he was there, thick and deep and exactly what she needed.

  * * *

  He’d never felt the raw surge of power that slammed through him the moment Holly turned away, her palms flat on the door, offering herself. He barely thought to cover himself before filling her, thrusting into dark warm solace of losing himself in her. She was no passive lover but tonight, tonight she’d given him a gift of power.

  He moved then, filling them both, until he thought he would shatter from the violence of it. He slipped his hand between her thighs, finding her swollen and so wet. He stroked her there, squeezing the swollen flesh gently until she cried out, her hips bucking against his. She didn’t build to her release slowly. Not tonight. It came suddenly, hard and stunning. It ripped through them both, suddenly and without warning. She’d never come so fast from such an unexpected touch but she was. Shuddering, her body clenched his tighter and tighter as he continued his onslaught with his fingers and his body.

  “More,” she whispered. She wanted it harder. Wanted it to never end.

  He wrapped his upper arm around her chest, pulling her back against him even as he moved to obey her command. Needing the release that escaped him.

  But when she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, arching her back completely, her body shifted, taking him deeper.

  And dragging him under with her.

  * * *

  “Today was laundry day,” she said.

  There was a mountain of laundry on her couch. Her sheets were in the dryer. They were curled together on her living room floor, wrapped in a thick mink blanket she’d gotten from the Iteawon shopping district in Seoul once upon a time.

  “I’m not judging,” Sal said, shifting so that her head rested in the pocket of his shoulder.

  A gentle kiss to his chest. “I know.”

  She moved closer, threading her thighs with his, needing the closeness to keep him from seeing the riot of emotions that refused to be subdued. She felt exposed in a way that she hadn’t in a long, long time.

  It was a stupid feeling. Something she should ignore. But tonight, for some reason, it wouldn’t let her be. She felt the tears just there, at the edge of her control. One wrong statement and things were going to get messy.

  He shifted then, rolling until he looked down at her, cradling her face in his rough palms. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Damn it, things were about to get messy. She wasn’t ready for messy. Not yet. “For what? The quickie by the front door?”

  A dark noise in his chest once more. His eyes glittered in the dim light. “For…for everything.”

  She chose to focus on work, unable to unpack the emotions circling just beyond the edge of her control. “Not the first time I’ve dealt with someone on a bad trip.” And there it was, closer, pressing against the boundaries she tried to erect. Her past trying to break into her present.

  She was not going there. Not tonight. Not ever. Sal wasn’t ready.

  Neither was she. It was always a good idea to break into tears after really hot sex. It always went over so well. She breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to shove the emotions back down.

  Trying and failing.

  His arm tightened around her shoulders. A simple gesture. One she might have missed had she not been so keyed into him.

  “Talk to me?” he whispered finally.

  She closed her eyes, wrestling with the ghost she wanted to hide. From him. From the world. He couldn’t see the person she was. Wouldn’t be man enough to love someone who’d made such terrible choices. Few men were.

  Maybe that’s why she started talking. Maybe it was better to get the truth out now and let it end this thing, whatever it was between them, before it got started. Before it hurt.

  The words finally started coming.

  “I was on staff duty in Korea. Got a call. One of our NCOs was on a bridge outside the base. Naked. Toxicology reports said he’d gotten some laced weed from a Russian prostitute we found out about later.”

  She held her breath, her lungs protesting the pain the memories brought. It was almost over.

  “I was the duty NCO so I was the first to respond.” She could see him there, naked on that bridge, screaming incoherent nonsense. Teetering close, so close to the edge. Heard her own voice, begging him to listen to her. To climb down.

  That she’d fix this. That she wouldn’t leave him alone ever again. Please.

  But that’s not how the memory ended. Her heart hurt in her chest.

  “He ended up in the hospital for a very long time. And one day, he just stopped breathing.” Another deep breath. “I wasn’t fast enough that day.”

  Sal never moved once she’d started talking. Now he shifted, holding his weight from her. The space hurt worse than a physical strike. She braced for him to move away. To distance himself from her.

  “You’ve had one very interesting military career.”

  She looked at him, then, surprised by his response. And then it dawned on her that he didn’t know who the NCO on the bridge had been. “You don’t know the half of it,” she said. And knew herself for a coward for not naming him. Not telling Sal the whole, ugly truth about that night. Instead, she chose the diversion. Needing to hold onto the precious time she had left with him. “Stick around long enough and you’ll see everything.”

  “You telling me you’re old?”

  She threaded her arms around his neck and shifted, wrapping her thighs around his hips, grateful, so grateful, for the distraction. “You don’t seem to mind my experience.”

  He lowered his forehead to hers. He absently stroked her shoulder with one thumb. “No, I’m turning into quite a fan of your experience.” He kissed her gently then. “On all fronts.”

  23

  “Talk to me, Goose.”

  It was five-thirty in the morning at PT formation and Holly wasn’t quite awake yet. She shot Sarn’t Major Cox a wry look. “Really? The sun isn’t even up yet, Sarn’t Major, and you’re dropping lines from Top Gun?”

  “You would prefer maybe Heartbreak Ridge?”

  She squinted at the older enlisted man. “Are you on something?”

  He grunted. “Sleep deprivation. Busy night around the battalion.”

  “Tell me about it.” She paused as his statement sank in. “Wait. What else happened?”

  “Well, other than the fun in Diablo Company, Chaos had two arrested for domestic incidents on post. I caught the staff duty NCO asleep at the desk and we won’t even discuss what I caught the staff duty officer doing.”

  Holly hissed between her teeth. “Is Sleeping Beauty still an NCO?”

  “He won’t be for much longer,” Cox said. “Sadly, I have no control over the officer in charge.”

  “Okay, fine, I’ll bite. What was he doing?”

  “She was painting her toenails in the ops office.”

  Holly pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “Tell me you’re making that up?”

  He glared at her and she wondered if he’d slept at all. It wouldn’t be the first time either of them had functioned on little to no sleep. “Do I look like the kind of creative genius who could make something like that up?”

  She chewed on the inside of her lip. “Well, it could always be worse.”

  Cox spat into the dirt. “It could. Indeed it could.”

&n
bsp; “So want to tell me why I’m doing PT with you this morning and not with my company?”

  They both paused, saluting the flag as the cannon went off across the installation at the Corps headquarters building. Once the last note of Reveille echoed across the formation, they dropped their salutes and Holly fell into step next to her mentor and friend. They started out at a slow jog down Battalion Avenue, heading toward the main road that intersected main post.

  “The bar fight last week. Talk to me about that.”

  “This again? This is the incident that just keeps giving at this point.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Got a call from the Heights PD that we had a couple of troopers getting ready to get arrested. Captain Bello and I went out and got them out of there before shit got real.”

  “Which soldiers, First Sergeant?”

  She glanced over at the unemotional question. “Sarn’t Pizarro. Who is most likely in an abusive relationship with Sergeant Freeman from my company. Private Balboa—the roof jumper—is trying to be a friend to Freeman but is basically losing his shit over a girl who doesn’t want him.”

  “Two NCOs and a private. What the hell is happening to the Army?”

  “Tell me about it.” They reached Hood Road and turned back. The run wasn’t brutal, not by a long shot. Cox needed information and she was used to this tactic. Hell, she used it more often than not when she needed to have a long chat with someone that didn’t quite require paperwork.

  “And the incident on the roof? Want to talk to me about your Spiderwoman propensities?”

  She swallowed the sudden dryness in her throat. “Flashbacks to Korea, Sarn’t Major.”

  He looked over at her, his eyes filled with sympathy and something else. Something that told her she was about to get a boot applied to a strategic pressure point. “You’re still letting that eat at you.”

  It wasn’t a question. Nor did it require a response.

  She let the silence drag on as they continued.