by Bruhns, Nina
Never had he been held so tightly or desperately. Not that there’d been a lot of nonsexual holding in his past. He avoided such things, didn’t do touchy-feely. Needy women in particular made him run for the hills. Probably because he didn’t have the emotion to spare.
But this was different. This was—
“Thank God,” she cried, voice ragged with tears. Or was that something else in her half sobbed, half moaned, “Kick?”
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
Her mouth found his and she kissed him. A desperate, whole-body, tongue-down-the-throat, take-me-now kind of kiss.
Fuck. All the pent-up fear for her he’d had bottled up inside him, all the physical hell he’d gone through for three interminable hours came pouring out as voracious need. For her. An urgent, primal need to touch her, meet her flesh on flesh. To celebrate them both being alive in the most primitive, basic way. He opened up and urged her on.
Before she could say no, he pushed her T-shirt up over her breasts. They spilled out, plump, beautiful, and bare, nipples peaked and offering themselves to him. The ultimate symbol of life.
With a strangled groan, he lifted her up and cushioned his face against her soft bounty, sucked a crown hard into his mouth. She cried out, instantly pebbling against his tongue.
Grappling for control, he switched to the other breast, tonguing and suckling until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to have her. Bury himself deep inside her. Thrust into her over and over and over, or he’d explode.
“Don’t move,” he said, and pulled the parachute from the duffel, whipping it out onto the ground. Then he was all over her again.
“I want you naked,” he rasped, whisking the T-shirt over her head and throwing it aside.
His hunger for her was like a feral thing. Wild, unstoppable. And thank God, hers was the same.
Jerking down the zipper of her jeans he yanked them over her hips as he rolled her onto the parachute. By the time she was on her back she’d toed off her sneakers and together they dragged her pants the last few desperate inches over her feet.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he growled, savoring the sight of her starlit body and the desire for him in her eyes.
“You—Ohhh . . .”
He swallowed her words as he canted over her and took her mouth in a greedy, devouring kiss, then thrust his hand between her thighs, spreading them, opening her to his questing fingers.
She whimpered and shuddered as he touched her there, her hands faltering in their attempt to pull off his T-shirt.
He pushed a finger into her and came out wet. Sweet Jesus. Her nails dug into his flesh. He circled her honeyed need.
“Give it to me, girl,” he urged, wanting her total surrender. Wanting to know she was helpless for him. “I want it all. Everything you have to give.”
He worked her to a frenzy with his fingers, pinching, sliding, probing, while he drove his tongue into her mouth, in and out, in and out, mimicking the motion of what would come next. Compelling her to forget where she was. Demanding she forget her fears. Making her forget her own name if he could.
Her nails scored their way down his chest and dipped under his waistband. Her fingertips met the head of his cock.
He bucked away with a warning growl. “No.”
If she touched him there, it was all over. And it was way too soon to be over. He wanted this to be good for her. So damn good she’d never forget this night, or this windswept cave, and not because of the terror she’d lived through in it. But because of this. Him. Now.
Her small, feminine cries of pleasure blended with her quick, panting breaths. He loved the way she sounded in the throes of passion. He’d forgotten what a turn-on it was to have a woman in his complete power, using only his touch to bring her to helpless bliss.
Or maybe it had just never felt this good for him before. Ever.
She felt exquisite. And she was so close. Hot as he’d ever felt a woman.
“You want me, don’t you, Rainie?” he murmured.
“Yes!” She inhaled sharply as he pierced her with two fingers. “Please, Kick.”
He swirled around her clit and it swelled to bursting.
So close he could taste it.
“Show me, sweetheart,” he urged, low and rough like gravel. “Show me how much you want me. Come for me, baby. Come for me now.”
And she did. A throaty moan hitched, then she sucked in a breath and convulsed under his hand. She cried out his name, throwing her arms around his neck as a shuddering orgasm quaked through her.
He was ready to crawl out of his skin, but he kept going until he’d massaged every last arousing quiver from her body.
Instead of going slack, her arms tightened. “You,” she demanded breathlessly, leaving no doubt as to her meaning. “You.”
He tore at his shirt to get it off, then wrestled with his DCUs, powering them down his thighs. He was still wearing his boots. Screw it. He fell onto his back, and her hands were on him.
“Damn it!” Furiously he dug through his pockets until he found the trio of condoms he’d put there in an optimistic moment last night. She snatched one from his fingers and tore into the wrapper.
He groaned deep as she rolled it on.
“You on top,” he ordered, lifting her so she straddled him. Then he fisted his cock, positioned her over it, and in a sharp, swift move impaled her from below.
She met him halfway and followed him down, sheathing him to the hilt in her wet heat.
Oh, yeah. Holy mother of God, yes.
He drilled his fingers in her hair and gritted his teeth, thrusting hard into her once, twice, three times. Battling not to go off like a heat-seeking missile.
But he did anyway.
He came in a starburst of power, the sounds of his release roaring through the cave. And he could only pray that the target he decimated with this endless, exquisite pleasure, this incredible rush, was not his own equilibrium.
Nor his resolve to do what needed to be done next.
KICK moaned long and low as he fell back down to earth. Rainie was panting hard, glued to his chest.
Good freaking grief.
Okay, of all the things he could have done, this was probably the stupidest. Not that it hadn’t been great, but—
“I’m sorry,” she said between pants, preempting him.
Okay, so now he was stupid and confused. “For what?” he asked.
“For attacking you like that.”
He was pretty sure he’d been the one to do the attacking, but if she wanted to claim responsibility, that worked for him.
“Damn, woman.” He closed his eyes to savor the last of the sparks going off in his cock. “Anytime you feel like attacking me like that, you go right on ahead.”
“I was just so . . . relieved to see you,” she said.
He knew all about being relieved. For that half second after calling her name, thinking the bad guys might have gotten to her after all, he’d nearly had a stroke. Then she’d crawled out of there looking at him like he was some kind of goddamn savior . . . and it had just felt . . . so damn right. He’d wanted to be her savior.
How insane was that?
He hated feeling protective. He was no fucking good at it. Which was just as well. Because he was no damn good at protecting, either. That was a matter of record.
She sat up, still straddling him, and traced her hand down his chest where she’d raked him with her fingernails. It stung a little, bringing him around. He was still inside her, half aroused. He should—
“I was sure they must have caught you,” she softly interrupted his internal lecture. “I was so scared for you.”
For him?
“How in the world did you escape?”
He cleared his throat. “Buried myself in the sand. An old trick a Paiute buddy of mine once taught me.”
“More cowboys and Indians?”
“Sort of.” Except the cowboys had been a cutthroat gang of Mexican drug dealer
s and the Indians a team of ZU commandos sent to quietly put an end to their bloody border crossings.
Had she really been scared for him?
The Milky Way reflected back from the forest green of her eyes. As she gazed down at him, something deep inside his chest twisted painfully.
“I was more scared for you,” he said, wrapped his hand around her jaw, and gently kissed her. Her lips were . . . papery smooth and starting to crack.
Abruptly, reality crashed in on him. Neither of them had had anything to drink since lunchtime. Ah, hell.
He groaned with self-recrimination. “Christ, what is wrong with me? You must be dying of thirst, and here I am . . .”
She smiled. “Don’t worry, not quite dead yet. And in case there’s any doubt, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Ditto.” He kissed her, then lifted her off him and set her down on his discarded T-shirt. He yanked his pants up from around his ankles. “I’ll get the pack.” Because the ceiling was too low to stand, he started to crawl over to it.
Suddenly pain streaked like fire through his leg. “Son of a—” He grabbed his thigh, twisting his body to ease the cramp, and landed on his butt.
She reached out to catch him. “Your leg?”
“Guess it didn’t like jumping out of a plane, or all that hiking,” he gritted out.
“So that’s why you wanted me on top,” she said with a wink.
He chuckled through a groan. “Hell, no. Just honoring your request to have me under you.”
She made a face, but she was still smiling. “Here, let me—”
“No.” He needed to stretch out the cramped muscles. And if she touched him again he’d probably end up stretching her out on the floor again. He’d never met a woman who could switch off his brain like he was no more than a horny teenager. “Never mind about me. Find the water.”
He deliberately looked away when she crawled over to the pack. Naked. On all fours with her delectable bottom flashing at him like a sexual homing beacon. Damn. She found six plastic bottles wrapped in extra DCUs and a shirt. She passed him a bottle and slipped on the T-shirt. Thank you, Jesus.
The water was warm and smelled like plastic, but neither of them cared. They drank greedily. But both stopped after several deep gulps.
“Who knows how long this’ll have to last us,” she said with obvious reluctance, recapping her bottle.
“Yeah.” He was glad she was smart enough to realize that. “We could be out here for days before finding water.”
Her movements halted for a second, then she took a deep breath and said, “Hungry? There are packets of food. Those MREs.”
“What about the radio?” he asked. “Please tell me the SATCOM was in the pack.”
She glanced into the backpack uncertainly. “I don’t see it, but . . .”
“Here, let me—” His leg cramped again. “Ah, crap,” he ground out, and fell back onto an elbow, woozy.
“I’ll look for it again,” she said. “Lie down and do a couple of leg exercises. That should help.”
Exercise? He’d had more than enough of that, damn it. What he needed was the SATCOM so he could call for some goddamn help. Instead of thinking about how much he wanted her to lie down with him and start all over again with the exercise.
“And maybe a couple of aspirin?” he asked. Better yet, a freaking cold shower . . . And a bottle of—No. Not that.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Crawling deeper into the cave, as far away from her as he could get, he pulled the parachute along and sprawled onto it again with a grunt. The night was still hot, but it was cooler back there. He took off his jacket as he turned over onto his back, and tucked it under his head as a pillow, stacking his hands between.
All right, fine. He lifted his leg with a grimace.
She snapped a small flashlight on and flicked the beam around. “Look what I found.”
“What about the SATCOM?” He lifted it again.
“Hmm.” She shook out the rest of the contents and went through them. “Tool kit, mess kit, spade, a big knife, first aid kit, looks like a roll of maps, bottle of sunblock, thank God, and . . . a space blanket.” She shook her head. “Sorry. No radio.”
Naturally it was the wrong pack. It had just been that kind of day.
Now what? What the hell would he do with her? He had to get to the training camp where abu Bakr and his terrorists were preparing their attack before it was too late. He thought about Lafayette. Prayed he’d survived. Prayed harder he’d found the other pack.
He lifted his leg again. Surprisingly, the pain was gone. He was shaky as hell, his heart still felt like a locomotive at times, and the cravings were never-ending, but the actual pain had vanished as quickly as it had struck.
He could live with that.
“What will we do?” Rainie asked. She had that look on her face again, gazing up at him like he was her savior. But the hero-worship was mixed with something else. Something that had to do with him having just been inside her.
Damn.
“I’m sure Lafayette’s found the other pack.” Now they just had to find Lafayette. “Did you mention a first aid kit?”
For aspirin, for his leg cramps. Not the strip of condoms it was ZU protocol to keep in all their kits. How many more opportunities would that make? Six? Seven? He stifled a groan.
The flashlight snapped off and she crawled over to his side and took his hand. “Here.” Two pills dropped onto his palm.
He popped them and swigged down another gulp of water. “Thanks.”
She was sitting on her heels, her perfect, half-nude body silhouetted against the night sky, her long pale hair in tangles from the violence of their lovemaking. So fucking gorgeous.
“It really hurts?” she asked.
“A bit achy,” he said. But it wasn’t his leg that ached. It was something deep in his chest. That had nothing to do with his drug withdrawal.
“What about . . . How are you doing with . . .” From her carefully neutral tone and eyes he knew she’d clued into his discomfort. Let her chalk it up to that. Not what it was really about.
He let out a tight sigh. The craving for the drug was still there, devouring his gut like a wolverine. But he wasn’t going to let it win. Not this time. He’d managed to function despite it all day. Even entombed in the sand, the craving hadn’t ever taken him over totally. Close. But not completely.
“I’ll be fine.”
And somehow he knew he would. About that, anyway. It was rough, but he’d make it. One day, sometimes one minute, at a time.
“I’m in awe of you, you know,” she said quietly.
Surprise jolted through him. “Me? Why?”
She picked at a seam on the fluttering parachute, avoiding his gaze. “Because you’re not afraid. Not of anything. And even with the withdrawal and your leg and all, you’re so damn . . . good at what you do. Here in this horrible place, I’m barely keeping it together. But you, you’re hardly even fazed.”
That he was shocked by her praise was an understatement. He was so undeserving of it. Him not afraid? She couldn’t be more mistaken. He was petrified. And he would be until he delivered her out of this place. Unharmed.
An unexpected wash of emotions seeped through his insides. Emotions so unfamiliar he couldn’t begin to decipher them.
And he sure as hell didn’t want to try.
“It’s my job,” he said more gruffly than he’d meant to.
She surprised him again by lying down next to him. Her body felt warm. Silky soft. So different from the hardness all around. From the hardness of his life. From . . . him.
“Besides, you’ve got it all wrong,” he said, giving in to the desire to gather her in his arms. “You, Lorraine Martin, are the bravest person I’ve ever met. And I really hate myself for getting you into this mess.”
“The biggest coward, you mean,” she countered. “And if I don’t hate you, you aren’t allowed to.”
“But you’ve got t
o hate me. If it weren’t for me—”
She put her hand on his chest. “I just made love with you, didn’t I?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Not what I would call it.”
She poked him in the ribs.
“Besides,” he said, “relief sex doesn’t count. And you’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want anything to do with me after we get back.” Hell, that sounded petulant, even to him. Great.
“Not because of you,” she said softly.
“That’s not what you said back at your apartment. And again after I woke up from the detox.” God, was he whining?
“That was before I understood what you were up against.”
The weight of her hand on his chest was like a brand. Under it, his heart squeezed. She still didn’t understand, didn’t know what he really was. If she knew the real truth about him, how could she not hate him?
Better to put some distance between them. Remind her of what he’d done to her. “So you’re saying you’ve forgiven me for trying to use you that first night?”
She toyed with a curl of his chest hair. And shocked him even more. “To be perfectly fair,” she said, “I’d intended to use you, too, you know.”
He raised an incredulous brow. “Is that so.”
“For sex,” she said. Even in the darkness he could see her naughty smile.
He laughed out loud. “Oh, yeah. And I would have given in kicking and screaming, let me tell you.”
She poked him again.
Yeah, he knew that was why she’d been at that speed dating event. For sex. As soon as he’d spotted her across the crowded ballroom, he’d known instinctively what she was looking for. He also knew she’d singled him out as her desired partner the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. She’d wanted sex with him. No one else.
Talk about a turn-on.
“There’s something I don’t understand,” he said, going onto his side so he could breathe in the scent of her, soak up the sight of her tempting body.
“What’s that?”
He reached out to touch her hair, wound an errant lock around his finger. “Why would a smart, beautiful woman like you need to use a stranger like me for sex? You must have men lining up to ask you out. Rich doctors and such.”
