by Elle Kennedy
The question was—was Derek aware of it? Or did he still view it as meaningless screwing?
“For fuck’s sake,” D was muttering. “How the hell was I supposed to know that Morgan would send backup?” He paused. “Okay, fine. I’ll own up to that—I should’ve checked in last night. But I was waiting for the heat to die down.”
Sofia narrowed her eyes, easily spotting the lie. Then she felt a pang of guilt, because it was her fault he hadn’t checked in with his teammates. He’d been too busy kissing her and touching her and talking to her. Actually talking. Who would’ve thought Derek Pratt was capable of stringing together actual sentences?
“Lay off, Trev,” he snapped into the phone. “I didn’t ask you to save my ass. I can save my own ass.” Another long pause, and then an irritated crease dug into D’s forehead. “Well, I apologize that you stayed up all night, coming up with an extraction plan. Maybe you can save the little notes you jotted down and use them for the next gig.”
Sofia couldn’t help but snort. God, this man was such an asshole. It probably wasn’t fair to Trevor Callaghan and the others that she found that trait in D so ridiculously endearing, but she’d always appreciated the way he called it like it was. Blunt, honest, no beating around the bush with this man.
D went quiet again. “Ninety minutes. Got it. We’ll be there.”
Sofia offered him a dry look as he set the phone back on the end table. “The guys are pissed at you, huh?”
“The guys are always pissed at me. It’s pretty much a given now,” he grumbled.
Laughing, she slid out of bed and walked over to him. His eyes instantly smoldered, alerting her to her own nudity.
“You’re very grumpy this morning,” she remarked. “Do you need a lollipop?”
His eyebrows shot up. “A lollipop?”
Sofia grinned. “That’s what I give the cranky kids who come to my clinic. Shuts them right up.” Her tone went thoughtful as her gaze lowered to his groin. “But actually, I think there’s another way I can help you.”
A choked sound left his lips as she sank to her knees and grabbed hold of his quickly hardening cock. “We’re meeting the team soon,” he reminded her.
“You said ninety minutes. I heard you.” She peered up at him and swept her thumb over the underside of his shaft, and was rewarded with a husky groan. “That leaves us plenty of time to”—she pressed her hands to his muscular thighs and swirled her tongue over his tip—“make you less cranky.”
When she wrapped her lips around him and sucked, D’s thighs clenched beneath her palms. “Oh Jesus,” he hissed.
She batted her eyelashes at him. “I thought you didn’t believe in God?”
Another groan escaped him as she closed her mouth over him. He was too big to take in fully, so she curled one hand around the base of his shaft and sucked down until her lips met her knuckles. His masculine flavor infused her taste buds, dampening her core.
“Fuck. Faster,” D mumbled. “Suck me hard and fast.”
Her eyes fluttered shut as she tightened the suction and took him as deep as she could, using her hand to pump him simultaneously. With each upstroke, she licked a circle around his crown before swallowing his length again, and soon his hips were rocking in time to the fast tempo she’d set. His velvety-smooth flesh pulsed on her tongue, and she felt an answering pulse between her legs.
The pregnancy had definitely changed her body, making it oversensitive and achy, short-circuiting her pleasure center so that each long suck on D’s cock brought her closer and closer to her own orgasm—and she wasn’t even touching herself.
As D’s body tightened with impending release, Sofia wrenched her mouth away and bolted to her feet. “Inside me. Now. I’m about to come.”
His brows soared. “You’re about to—”
“God, get inside me!” She frantically hopped up on the counter, because the bed was too damn far and she was too damn overwrought. Her pussy tingled wildly. She knew if she so much as took a breath, the orgasm she was trying to stifle would break free.
D moved with swift precision into the cradle of her thighs, his cock jutting out as he gripped it in his hand. Without missing a beat, he brought it to her opening, nudged her with the tip, then drove into her wet core.
Sofia went off like a fireworks display. Oh sweet Lord. The rush of ecstasy that spiraled through her stole the breath from her lungs. She gasped, shocked by the force of the release, damn near blacking out as her vision turned into an entire universe’s worth of stars.
D was right behind her, his cock plunging in and out, then slamming deep as he came. His shoulders shuddered wildly.
“Fucking hell,” he squeezed out. “You rip me apart.”
Sofia barely had time to recover from that hurricane of pleasure before another sensation rose in her belly, a queasy rush that skittered up to her throat and flooded her mouth with saliva.
“Oh shit,” she exclaimed.
D blinked in shock as she wiggled away from him and dove off the counter. She flew toward the bathroom and flung herself at the toilet bowl, sinking to her knees just as the nausea spilled over.
Well, look at that. For the first time since she’d learned about the pregnancy, she was actually experiencing morning sickness in the morning.
“Sofia?” D’s gravelly voice wafted from the doorway as she threw up.
In the cell, he’d come up behind her and held her hair away from her face. This time, he stayed put. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but when she’d finished retching and turned to look at him with watery eyes, her heart dropped. There was no emotion in his eyes. Zero. Just blank indifference.
So much for progress.
“Are you all right?” he asked brusquely.
She took a breath and waited for another wave of sickness, but it didn’t come. Her stomach had settled as if someone had flicked a switch. But her knees were wobbly as she stood up. Robot D was back, and it scared her. Why had he come back, damn it?
Her heart pounding, she walked over to the sink and brushed her teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste D had bought at the store last night. Once her breath was minty fresh, she turned off the tap and slowly approached the door.
“Sofia?” he pressed.
“I’m fine.” She brushed past him into the main room, hastily searching for something to wear. “It hits me out of nowhere, but after I throw up, the nausea just goes away. It’s weird. You’d think I’d still feel sick, but it totally disappears. Everything just settles right up and I go back to feeling perfectly normal . . .” She trailed off when she realized she was babbling.
A dress. Thank God. She found a loose blue sundress in one of the plastic bags. And a pack of cotton panties. A pair of flip-flops.
Avoiding D’s gaze, she threw on the outfit he’d procured for her and tried telling herself that maybe this was for the best. She would be going home in a couple of hours, and D would be going to his compound, she supposed. Or on another mission. Either way, he wouldn’t be by her side after today.
There was no point in bringing up the subject. In D’s eyes, the baby didn’t even exist. She could count on one hand the number of times he’d mentioned the pregnancy since she’d tracked him down. So, no, what would talking about it achieve—
“I want you in this baby’s life,” she blurted out.
Shit. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d just ordered herself not to bring it up!
As expected, D’s entire body tensed. Then, acting as if he hadn’t heard her, he reached for the shopping bag she’d left on the bed and began tugging out items of clothing.
“Did you hear me? I want you in the baby’s life.” The crack in her voice embarrassed the heck out of her, but there was no hiding her distress.
D yanked a pair of black trousers up his naked hips.
“Derek, look at me.”
He put on a clean white T-shirt, then pulled a belt from the bag and threaded it through his belt loops.
“Damn i
t, Derek,” she said in frustration. “Don’t be an asshole.”
After he’d buckled the belt, he finally turned her way. “But I am an asshole,” he said tersely. “A cold, ruthless asshole.”
“That’s not true,” she shot back. “Some of the time, yes. But not always.”
His jaw twitched as he stalked to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. “Why would you ever want me around a baby, Sofia? What the fuck do I have to offer a child?”
He drained half the glass before slamming it down so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter.
“Do you want me to teach him how to slit a man’s throat? How to torture someone until they break?” Anger dripped from his voice, flashed in his eyes. “Should I cradle him in my arms and let him see the tats I put on my skin so I could hang out with drug dealers? Should I protect him from all the sick fucks in this world who might try to hurt him? Who might come after him because his father is a killer and has more enemies than a goddamn dictator?”
Sofia was stunned by the outburst. Every word he’d spoken sliced her heart to jagged ribbons, but he wasn’t done yet. He wasn’t done at all.
“I have nothing to offer him,” D repeated. “Nothing to offer you. Just pain and darkness and violence. I am not a good man.”
She stared sadly at him. “Yes, you are. You just can’t see it.”
D scowled. “I’m poison.”
“You’re not poison.” She gritted her teeth. “You are good. You risked your life to save Sullivan. You risked your life to save me. You care about people, whether you want to admit it or not.” Her heart started beating faster as something occurred to her. “Fuck.”
“What?” he demanded.
You make me feel.
“That’s it,” she said quietly. “That’s what you’re afraid of. You said nothing scares you, but you’re wrong. You’re fucking terrified of feeling. Feeling anything—hope, joy, love, but especially fear. You’re afraid of being afraid, because the last time you experienced true fear, it was at the hands of people you trusted, who were supposed to love you.” An ache tightened her chest. “I get it. You were abused, Derek. I’m sure it was easier to shut down completely instead of letting yourself feel all those emotions. The pain and the shame and—”
“Stop psychoanalyzing me,” he snapped. “It’s a waste of time.”
She met his furious eyes. “Did you ever see someone about it?”
D’s features turned to stone.
“Did you see a therapist or psychiatrist after . . . after everything?”
“I had mandatory psych evaluations when I was Delta,” he muttered.
“But did you talk about it?” she pushed. “Did you tell the shrink about your parents?”
“No.” His tone went frigid. “Because there was nothing to fucking say. My parents liked to diddle their little boy—”
Sofia flinched.
“—and they enjoyed every second of it. But I got through it. I got over it, and I got my revenge. End of story.”
“End of story?” she echoed in disbelief. “Yeah fucking right, Derek! You got your revenge on your parents—good for you. Congrats. But you never actually dealt with what they did to you. The feelings it evoked, the person it turned you into. You decided it was just easier to pretend that it didn’t affect you. But it did.”
Rather than answer, he stared right through her.
“I see you, you know,” Sofia announced. “I see the real you under the mask. Not always, definitely not right now, but I’ve seen you. I’ve seen the man who loves his teammates so much that he’d put his neck on the line for them. I’ve seen the man who’s kind and compassionate, who orders a pregnant woman to eat and rest because he genuinely cares about her well-being.”
A muscle in his face jumped.
“I’ve seen the man who feels actual pleasure. You told me sex wasn’t about feeling good and that it was just about release for you, but I know you feel something more when you’re with me. I know you’re capable of humor and laughter, because I’ve seen and heard it. I know you can be sweet when you choose to be. I know you, and I want our baby to know you, too.”
She finished in a tired rush, but she might as well have been speaking to a cardboard cutout of Derek Pratt. He was stiff and poker-faced, unblinking as he looked at her.
Time stopped. Silence fell.
Desperation filled Sofia’s chest cavity, lodging itself in her heart, her blood, her entire being. “Give me that man,” she begged. “Please, Derek, just give me the man I met in that cell, the man who shared my bed last night, the man I know you are. I promise you, I’ll take good care of him. I’ll always be there for him. Please . . . just let me have him.”
God, what was she saying? What was she promising? Why was she promising it? She’d wanted to convince him to give fatherhood a try, but here she was, wanting him not just for their baby, but for herself.
Because . . . holy hell, was she falling in love with him? Had she already fallen?
Sofia felt weak as she frantically tried to sift through her feelings. But it didn’t matter what she felt or what she wanted, because Derek Pratt was beyond her reach.
“That man doesn’t exist,” he said hoarsely. He broke the eye contact, stalked toward the door, and spoke again without looking at her. “Come on. It’s time to go.”
And with that, Derek Pratt couldn’t have hurt her any more than if he’d pulled his gun from his waistband and shot her in the heart.
• • •
The team was already at the airfield when D pulled up in the truck he’d stolen last night. Sofia hadn’t said a single word during the drive. She hadn’t even looked at him. But maybe that was for the best. He’d hurt her. He knew that, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of looking over and seeing pain in her eyes. Pain that he’d caused her.
She was wrong about everything she’d said about him. He was who he was. There weren’t hidden depths to his fucking character, no lingering trauma twisting him up inside. He was a bad man who’d done bad things. That’s all he was, and that’s all he would ever be.
“Nice ride,” Luke cracked as D hopped out of the driver’s seat. “You make an adorable hillbilly.”
D gritted his teeth and swept his eyes over the group, not stopping until his gaze landed on a familiar face.
Sullivan.
This morning over the phone, Trevor had confirmed that Sully was alive, but D hadn’t really believed it until this very moment. At the sight of his teammate, he had to fight the massive wave of relief that crested in his gut and threatened to knock him over.
I’ve seen the man who loves his teammates so much that he’d put his neck on the line for them.
No. Sofia was wrong, damn it. He didn’t love his teammates. He didn’t love anyone.
He marched over to Sullivan. Hesitated. Then reached out and lightly slapped the other man’s arm. “You made it out,” D said gruffly.
Sully nodded. “I made it out.”
An alarm went off inside him. Sullivan’s voice was . . . different. His eyes were different. The person standing in front of D wasn’t the cocky, no-care-in-the-world man that D had known for years.
He was looking at a stranger. A broken, shell-shocked stranger.
D drew an unstable breath. Didn’t matter. Sully would get help. Macgregor would help him. Morgan. Noelle. It wasn’t D’s responsibility to help the guy. He didn’t fucking love the guy.
“Sully.” Sofia came up to them, then wrapped her arms around Sullivan’s waist and hugged him tight. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
D didn’t miss the way Sully flinched when she first touched him, but after a moment, the man returned her warm embrace. His forehead sagged, his chin resting on her shoulder as a heavy breath seeped from his chest.
The woman had that way about her, an innate strength that drew people to her, that made them relax in her presence. D’s throat closed up as he watched her hug his friend, as he remembered everything she’d
said back at the motel.
She’d been right about something, at least. He was afraid, and had been ever since he’d slept with Sofia. She had made him afraid. Because she’d left him wanting more after that first night. Because she’d showed up pregnant. Because she’d almost died on his watch. Because she saw him.
He didn’t like that feeling. Fear. He didn’t fucking like it, and he didn’t want it. Maybe he had hurt her when he’d refused to give her what she wanted, but it was so much easier to just shut down, shut her out. He was good at shutting people out. He fucking excelled at it.
“All right, let’s head out,” Trevor announced, approaching the group with a black canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He glanced at Sofia. “We’re going to the compound first, but someone will fly you back to the clinic after we land, okay?”
Sofia released Sullivan and nodded, not looking in D’s direction even once.
“We’re taking one of the smaller birds,” Liam spoke up, his tone awkward as he gestured to himself, then Sullivan. “Franco already agreed to pilot for us.”
Trevor’s forehead creased. “Morgan wants everyone back at the compound.”
“Sully wants to check on his boat first. She’s docked in Portugal.”
When Trevor opened his mouth to protest, Sullivan interrupted. “Don’t bloody argue with me on this, mate. I’m going to Portugal.”
After a moment, Trevor sighed. “If that’s what you need to do, then all right.”
Back slaps and handshakes were exchanged as Trevor and the others said good-bye to Liam and Sully, who were both oddly subdued as they strode back to the hangar to talk to their pilot.
The rest of the group headed toward the sleek white Gulfstream that waited on the tarmac. D hung back so he was the last one in the group. He stared at Sofia’s back as she trudged forward. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, her long hair swaying midway down her back with each weary step she took.
Pain pierced his heart. Damn it, a part of him wished she would turn around and look at him.
