by Jen Talty
His breath hitched as the patter of his heart accelerated. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “No.” Gently covering her mouth, savoring the way her warm lips grazed his, he drew her body closer. At one time in his life, he’d thought the lingering emotions tied with Amber had faded into a distant, but fond memory. However, with her in his arms, kissing like two old lovers who never tired of the sweetness in the same touch over and over again, he knew better.
Their tongues rolled and twisted, taking pleasure in exploring an old favorite place that hadn’t been visited in a long time. A sense of urgency surged through his body. He gripped her hips, trying to keep himself from taking more than a tender trip down memory lane. He tried to pull back, but she dug her fingers into his shoulders, massaging, and deepening the kiss, pushing his desire over the edge.
“Amber,” he managed with a ragged breath. “We keep this up, and I’m going to ask if you want to take this to the bedroom.”
“And if I said yes?”
He groaned, pressing the recline button, bringing his feet to the ground. He held out his hand. “Are you saying yes?”
“This is crazy,” she whispered.
He led her to the bedroom, memories of their teenaged love bombarding his mind, and his heart. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach like a boy preparing for his first time.
Only he wasn’t a boy.
And this wasn’t his first time.
But she had been the first girl he’d ever slept with, a memory burned into his flesh.
He stepped into the bedroom, slamming the door shut, and pressed her back against the wall. His hands rested on her hips, his thumbs rubbing the soft skin under her shirt. “Crazy is the circumstances which brought us back here, but this…” He lifted her shirt, gliding his hand to the underswell of her breast… “is pure insanity.” He waited a few seconds, waiting for her to change her mind and push him away. No matter how badly he wanted her, he wanted her to be sure. He knew he was risking his heart and that having her one more time would probably destroy him, but not being with her would kill him inside forever.
“Babe?” he questioned.
She rested her hands on his shoulders, giving him a little shove.
An overwhelming sense of sadness filled his body, until she took her fingers, curled them under her shirt, and pulled it over her head.
Followed by her bra.
He swallowed. Hard. Staring at her while she adjusted her hair, she smiled at him with that come hither look she’d developed in high school.
Her raven hair flowed over her breasts, stopping near her belly button. Her tight nipples peeked out through the strands.
“Is this how you remembered?”
“Better,” he managed as he swallowed his breath, nearly choking. He desperately wanted to recreate their one and only night together, but have it end differently. He wanted to wake with her body sprawled over his and his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding on as if he’d never let go.
He ripped his shirt off, tossing it to the floor, ignoring the sudden jab to the left of his spine. Taking a few tiny steps forward, he brushed one section of her hair over her shoulder. He bent over, taking her nipple between his lips, rolling his tongue over the tight nub.
She dug her fingers into his scalp, moaning sweetly.
He let his hands roam her body, fumbling with her pants as he rolled them down over her hips, kissing a trail down her leg as he removed the garment. Rocking back on his heels, he nearly fell over as the room seemed to fade away, leaving her standing in the middle of a blurred background.
The first time they’d been together left him feeling weak in the knees.
This left him feeling like something he couldn’t even explain if he tried. It wasn’t weakness, or pure lust, or even drunkenness.
“Your turn.” She rested her index finger under his chin, tilting his head. “Off with the pants.”
“I’ve heard that line before,” he murmured as he stood.
“I think your line was something like, if you want them off, you take them off.”
“Do you want them off?” He reached out, tracing his finger over her darkened areola. Her breasts were a bit larger than he remembered. Her hips had a little more curve, but he liked them even more.
Goosebumps covered her skin as she hissed.
“You know that makes me crazy.”
He nodded, reaching out with the other hand, doing the exact same thing. “I’ll stop when you get me out of these jeans.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
He groaned as he undid the button.
“Impatient, aren’t you?” She pushed his hands aside, curling her fingers over the waist of his pants, gently tugging down the zipper.
“This isn’t quite how it happened the last time,” he mused, watching her lower her mouth over the length of him, staring up with a twinkle in her eye.
He sucked in a deep breath, watching her tongue dart out from between her lips, circling the tip, her hands squeezing the base.
“I thought I’d change things up, considering we’re older and more experienced.” Her eyelids fluttered closed as she repeated the motions again.
“Babe, you’re killing me here.”
Hot breath coated his skin. He gritted his teeth as his toes curled into the wood floor. Gently, he pushed her hair to the side, lifting a lock between his fingers.
“My turn,” he ground out with a throaty groan.
She took her sweet time, kissing her way over his stomach, grazing her teeth against his nipples.
“Get on the bed,” he whispered in her ear. “On your back, ass at the edge.”
She smiled wickedly, licking her lips.
All the nerves he’d felt as a boy disappeared into oblivion. They weren’t the same people, and while their first experience had been incredible, they had been teenagers. A pang of jealousy over every man who had touched her, explored with her, laced with a twinge of guilt for the women he’d loved, jolted his heart.
Propped up on her elbows, in the position he’d asked, Amber locked gazes with him. Her eyes begging him to satisfy her in ways she only imagined.
He glided his hands under her firm ass, lifting her legs over his shoulders and tasted her sweet nectar. Her hips rolled as she called out his name. He kissed her intimately, finding every nook and crevice. Her moans grew louder, and her body quivered. He never wanted a woman more than he wanted her. All he could think about was feeling her tighten around him as he throbbed inside her.
Shit. He paused for a brief second, but it didn’t go unnoticed.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t have protection,” he said between kisses on her stomach as he worked his fingers inside her, feeling her clench down. The actual act of sex would have to wait, but he could still make her come, and he’d enjoy every second of it.
“You always left a condom in here.”
He laughed. “That was how many years ago?”
“Might still be one in the drawer,” she pointed to the nightstand.
“I think they expire.”
“It would be better than nothing,” she said, squirming under his touch. “I’m on the pill, so this is an added layer for that and while I’m clean…oh, my…”
He pinched her swollen nub between his teeth as he stroked her, curling his fingers at the right spot. “Check the drawer,” he said.
“I’d have to move,” she whispered between a few haggard breaths.
He scooted up the bed with her, toying with her, teasing her, making her groan as she rolled, reaching for the nightstand.
“Nothing,” she said.
“I’m clean and if you’re on the—”
“I want you.” She cupped his face, pulling him over her body. “I need you,” she whispered before pushing her tongue between his lips.
He shifted, easing himself into her, groaning into her mouth as she rolled her hips wildly. Plunging inside her, he felt her release begin with
a slight tremble of her stomach. Her fingers dug into his ass, pulling him deeper and deeper until she tossed her head to the side, arching her back, letting out a guttural moan.
He clenched his teeth, waiting for the moment her body tightened around him, caressing him as she shook with delight in his arms.
She shuddered, calling out his name as he buried his face in her neck, thrusting until his climax spilled out, making the room spin.
He couldn’t fill his lungs. It was as if he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him. His heart hammered in his chest as he slowed his movements. Her hands glided up and down his back, stopping occasionally over his scars. Her lips pressed against his temple.
For a long time, they lay there like that, entangled in each other, saying nothing.
He rolled to the side, keeping his arms tight around her. “Are you okay?”
“I am.” She rested her head on his chest. “Shamus?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“You know all those letters you sent me?”
He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. He’d poured his heart out in them. “Yes.”
“I read every one, and I responded to every one. I just never sent them.”
“Why not?” He wasn’t really sure he wanted to know the answer, but he needed to.
“At first, I couldn’t. Between my father pleading guilty, and then committing suicide, and my mom’s illness, there was just too much going on. But I kept writing and planned on sending them. I had come back to town the summer between my sophomore and junior year.”
“I’d heard that. You stayed with Hank and worked for him that summer.”
“You came home for a week.”
He held his breath, knowing that he’d brought home a girlfriend that visit. He had no idea Amber had returned until he arrived at his parents’ house.
“I saw you with a girl at Schooner’s one night.”
“I didn’t know that,” he said, running his hand up and down her arm. “We broke up shortly after that trip. My mom hated her, and of course, my dad let me know you were in town right in front of her, so that didn’t help.”
“I’m sorry you broke up.”
“I’m not. She wasn’t right for me at all, but I want to get back to the letters.”
“I had them in a big box, and I was going to bring them by, let you read them, if you wanted, and then maybe…I don’t know…we could have been friends.” She lifted her head, resting her chin on his arm. “I still have the letters, and over the years, I’ve written you more, even after you stopped writing.”
She’d broken his heart and now she had the power to mend it or break it for good. “Why are you telling me this?”
“You asked me earlier if I ever loved you, and I wanted you to know that I loved you more than anything and a part of me always will.”
He cupped her face, barely brushing his lips against hers. “A part of me has always loved you too.”
Only, all of him still loved her.
Chapter 5
AMBER SLIPPED from the bed, careful not to wake Shamus. The sun had yet to rise, but the sky had turned from black to a rich blue. Finding a pair of his boxers and a tank top, she stood by the window, waiting for the sun to rise, watching the stars fade away.
She glanced over her shoulder when she heard a groan. He’d rolled to his side, the covers sliding down to his waist, showing off the scars that lined his back. After the bombing, she’d been desperate to see him in fear that he’d die. Hank had been kind enough to fill her in on what details he could.
Tears struggled to break free. Shamus had not only been near death, but they didn’t think he’d be able to walk again. Six bullets had torn through his body, and a large piece of shrapnel had nicked his spine, slicing through half his back. She’d felt the jagged scars on his back last night, and looking at them now, made her realize how much she’d lost the day she’d walked away.
But he and his family suffered so much more.
Don’t be such a martyr.
Hanks words trickled from her memories to her heart. All these years, and Hank thought she’d felt sorry for herself. Maybe part of her did. But it was more about selfishly protecting herself. The day of Colleen’s funeral, with her father out on bail, she woke up to find him slumped over the kitchen table, drunk out of his mind, as if what happened meant nothing. He was never going to change, and she had to get her mother out of that situation, especially considering her condition. She needed her father in jail, a horrible thought for a child to have, but it was the truth, and she needed proper care for her mother.
A lot for a seventeen-year-old girl to deal with.
Pride had kept her from staying with Shamus.
Pure and simple.
Another groan as he reached toward his back, fisting his hand and rolling it over the scars.
“Let me,” she said as she climbed onto the bed.
He rolled to his stomach, and she could tell he tried not to make a noise, but his face grimaced with pain.
“Light pressure, medium, hard?” she asked, her hands hovering over the torn flesh. A long scar from his surgery slinked halfway up his spine.
“I just need the muscles loosened a bit.” He lifted his head, catching her gaze. “Good morning, babe.”
She smiled. The last time she’d spent the night, his parents had shown up before sunrise. “Do you call every girl you’re with, babe?”
“Only you,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I tried once with a girl I dated in college, but it felt weird, so I never said it again.”
She kneaded her fists into his back, feeling the tight knots everywhere, just under the skin. The pain he must feel everyday would have driven her mad. “Are you always this sore?”
“Mornings are tough sometimes, but it’s getting better and better. Doc said I’ll always have some pain, and there are things I just can’t do anymore, but I’ll take it considering they told me I’d be paralyzed from the waist down.”
She sucked in a breath. “You’ve always been a fighter.”
“That feels so good,” he said with a soft moan, patting the pillow next to him. “But I’d rather forget the massage and get you naked.”
Being with him had always been so easy. He’d been her best friend. Her everything. Leaving him had been the hardest thing she ever had to do, besides watching her mother fade away into the abyss.
He covered her body with his, showering her neck with kisses, his warm lips coating her skin like the ocean rolled into the sand on a calm day.
The sound of hoofs stomping against the hard ground jerked his body as he pressed his hands on the mattress, pushing up, and peering out the window.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered as he scooted to the side of the bed, rubbing his back with one hand, bending over to snag his pants.
“What it is?”
“My goddamned parents.”
Her heart sank into her stomach. “Deja vu,” she whispered.
He twisted his body, leaning back, his thumb under her chin as he kissed her tenderly.
Lovingly.
“Not even close, other than we’re both essentially naked.”
“I’m not.” She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest and stared out the window. His father slid off a giant horse, before helping his mother down, who didn’t need the help, but took it anyway. Megan O’Neil had always been a strong, independent woman, but adapted to her husband’s old-fashioned ways without compromising who she was, and Liam never tried to stop her from doing anything she desired.
Even bull-riding.
“God, your father’s hot for an old man.”
Shamus looked much like his father with his mocha eyes, lean muscles, and a slight bow-legged swagger that sent women swooning.
“He does have a thing for younger women.”
Amber laughed, turning her head toward Shamus, who stood at the foot of the bed with just his jeans, though the button had yet to be fastened.
“What are you doing?”
“I was admiring the view.”
“Admire it another time and get your ass out there before your parents walk through the front door.”
He nodded, grabbing his shirt before heading into the family room. She took a few moments to put on proper clothing and make the bed. She really didn’t want to leave the safety of the bedroom but knew it would be rude to hide from his parents. She wasn’t a child anymore.
***
Shamus pulled open the front door before his parents had the chance to knock. “What are you doing here?” he asked, not hiding his annoyance. Not because they had interrupted an intimate moment, but because he wanted to keep them as far away from this, making sure nothing bad happened to them.
“That is not how a son greets his parents, especially his mother,” his father said, taking his hat off and putting it on the hook by the door, letting Shamus know he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.
“Sorry.” Shamus hugged his mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek before slapping his father on the back in one of those manly half-hugs.
“Where’s Amber?” his mother asked with a smile.
“In the bedroom,” Shamus admitted, his cheeks heating as he realized what his parents must be thinking since there was no bedding on the sofa.
“How is she?” his mother asked, her fingers curling around his biceps in a protective fashion, like when he’d been a small boy and she’d escort him across the street in town.
“She’s good, for the most part. She didn’t take too kindly to be being chased, and she’s shook up over these two deaths.”
“I can only imagine,” his father said. “We watched some of the news last night. They aren’t portraying either one of you in a good light.”
“I can’t believe anyone is buying that bullshit,” his mother said, shaking her head. “You nearly died for this country, why anyone would think you’d be involved in treason is just stupid.”
“Honey, it’s ridiculous to us, because he’s our son, but it wouldn’t be the first time a disabled vet did something because—”
“Bite your tongue, old man,” his mother said, reaching out and poking his father’s arm. “Unless you want to sleep in the guest room.”
