for you, he thought. He could tell by the way she was smiling at him.
**
The clinic was already busy when Kira got there. She quickly settled in and started with her patients. At least with a busy clinic I can get my mind off Stark. She was just finishing a physical when her phone vibrated to life in her pocket. Once out of the room she checked the message. It was him!
Did you get the delivery?
Her racing heart made her realize how anxious she had been to hear from him.
Yes, thank you.
They are absolutely beautiful.
Kira cursed herself for not thinking of something more original to say. His note had been as lovely as the flowers. Her phone buzzed again.
Not as beautiful as you.
How is your morning?
She knew he would be upset if he knew she had to get a ride from Holt and didn’t want him to push the car issue. She vowed to look for a new car that weekend.
My Morning’s ok.
You really didn’t have to send me anything.
You catered to me all weekend
I should have sent something to thank you.
Immediately her phone buzzed back. Kira scoffed at the elation she felt each time he responded. You are hopeless! She thought to herself
I wanted to send you something to say thank you.
Kira starred at her phone, confused. He had rescued her. He had taken her to a wonderful cabin and taken excellent care of her all weekend. She couldn’t think what exactly he should be thanking her for.
For what?
He quickly responded and Kira’s heart melted all over again.
That used to be my place but the last several years it has been so lonely. This weekend with you…it was all new again.
Kira sat holding her phone. There were so many things she wanted to say, but how? And that was definitely not the type of conversation she wanted to have over text.
Thank you Owen
I really had an amazing time.
You are a lot more fun than I imagined.
How’s your morning so far?
Fun? Stark wondered to which part she was referring. He knew which parts were the most fun for him. In fact, he wouldn’t mind a little fun now.
My mornings ok, I guess.
Pancakes are a little bland though…
Their missing something…
I just can’t put my finger on it.
Kira could almost see his mischievous grin. She thought of the way he cleared the counter, throwing flour everywhere. He’d been so crazy for her at that moment. She had never felt so wanted. So sexy.
Well, now, that is a shame. We may have to remedy that.
Kira giggled as she typed. She knew that she had to keep a professional demeanor at work but she felt giddy and wanted to sext with Soldier Sex God. But she knew better.
As for Stark, he was on a break and could afford to pine for her for a few precious minutes. This day’s looking better already! Stark shifted his growing bulge. He sat back in the barrack break room. He pictured Kira all covered in flour on the kitchen counter, wanton and ready for him. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He knew he would be thinking about her all day.
Surely sitting around sexting all day isn’t part of your itinerary today.
Well, there went the fun, Stark thought, but he couldn’t resist jabbing back just a little.
Sexting?
You are dirty! Here I was talking
about wholesome breakfast foods.
Don’t you have some lives to save
or diseases to stamp out Captain.?
Stark laughed out loud as he sent the message.
“What the hell are you laughing about?” Sergeant Colin griped as he walked in. “You look like you had a good weekend.”
“And you look like shit. What the hell happened?” Stark asked, staring at the battered and scuffed-up Colin.
“Long story,” Colin said, wincing as he iced a bruised and very swollen right hand. His left eye resembled an overly ripe plum. Multiple abrasions decorated his face and neck. He continued, “that started with a little tequila and a friendly game of pool and ended with a vagina on my face.” He finished by pointing dramatically at his battered eye.
“Man, when are you going to learn to quit starting shit? How many were there? Cause I’m picturing one little old lady with an umbrella.”
“Fuck you, man. If my backup hadn’t been off chasing tail in the mountains, it would have turned out better.”
“You need to control your liquor and your mouth. You’re going to end up getting shot.”
“Yeah, yeah…that’s what Paige said.”
“You were with Paige this weekend?” Stark was a little surprised. He knew that Colin and Paige knew each other, but they didn’t exactly run with the same crowd.
“You got a problem with that, bro? I know you two were hot and heavy at one time. If you still like her, man, just say so.”
“Paige and I are just friends. She’s a wildcat, man. If you’re brave enough to go down that road, be my guest. But be good to her or you’ll have me and her girlfriend Zoe to deal with. And trust me, if that happens, you’ll have more than a vagina on your face,” Stark said, flipping Colin in his swollen eye.
“Ah, fuck!” Colin winced in pain and punched Stark in the arm. “Fuck. Duly noted…Shit!”
Stark couldn’t help but laugh. He knew his redneck friend would be blown away by Paige and wondered how he would handle her unique abilities. If Colin thought the eye was bad, he was in for a whole new world of hurt with Paige. She was a professional. When it came to relationships, her only steady was Zoe. They had been partners for years. Stark had found that exciting at one time. Paige, he knew, would just be having fun. She enjoyed alternating as a dominant and submissive, and had introduced him to both. For poor Colin this would be quite an education.
Paige was an incredibly beautiful woman and he had no doubt she would have Colin under her complete control. He wasn’t sure what her real name had been but she had been Paige for as long as he had known her. Stark assumed the name and her looks came from her obsession with Bettie Page. She had been born in Korea but had lived in the United States most of her life. Her long hair was jet black, always cut and styled in perfect Bettie Page fashion. She was an incredibly talented tattoo artist, and thus the majority of her torso and legs, and part of her arms, beautifully displayed her art.
That’s how she and Stark had first met. Stark had come back after his first deployment and had found out all the shit that Simone had been up to. It was the final straw. He needed to blow off some steam and had gone out drinking. He ended up with a couple of buddies, wasted, in a tattoo parlor. In had walked Paige.
The three drunken soldiers had stared open-mouthed as Paige entered the room with her jet black hair perfectly rolled and as shiny as her five-inch patent leather heels.
“Well, well, what do we have here? Fresh little NUGs come to see Paige. You man enough for tattoos, soldier boys? What you want, a little unicorn or some flowers?” Her Vietnamese accent was thick, but Stark thought perhaps it was a little forced. Though young and relatively inexperienced, he had picked up that she was toying with them.
He was instantly turned on by her, as were most men, he imagined— if not a little intimidated by her pin-up girl make-up and the artful tattoos that covered a large portion of her body. She stood tapping a sexy black heel, sizing them up. The soft skin of her pale leg was covered (barely) with thin fishnet stockings that disappeared beneath her fire engine red halter dress. The backless dress allowed the full view of her extensive artwork. “You,” she said, pointing at him. “Come here, little soldier boy. I want to see what you are made of. You want tattoo?”
Stark stood in the center of the room. His heart rate had picked up. He did his best to control his breathing. He had never been in the presence of this kind of woman before. She produced a small riding crop from one of the tattoo stations. Stark�
��s eyes lit up. He suddenly didn’t care what she was about to do. The confident young man was excited and needed to blow off a lot of pent up energy and frustration. She walked around him slowly, her stilettos clicking on the tile floor. She tapped the crop gently against her other hand. Slowly, she circled, like a shark. Tap….tap…tap. Then suddenly—whap! She smacked him hard on the chest with the crop. “This goes,” she said, indicating his shirt. “Hmm,” she murmured appreciatively, once the obstructive fabric had been discarded. “This we can work with,” she said, slowly dragging the crop against his skin. Stark’s face remained calm and in control, his breathing evened out, but his eyes remained deadlocked on her. The growing bulge in his jeans, however, betrayed his true feelings. Paige laughed. “This one has promise,” she said, slapping him again. “OK, you go have a seat over there. You two,” she said, turning to his friends, “Mark and Lena will take care of you.” She started toward the back with Stark, and turning, she said, “This is no massage parlor, boys, so don’t get any ideas. No happy ending here.”
“That was pretty intense,” Stark said, staring up at her as he settled into the tattoo chair.
“You have no idea.” The wicked gleam in her eyes as she answered, smiling, should have raised a red flag for trouble. But at twenty years old, trouble was exactly what he was looking for.
Stark snapped back to reality. Memory lane with Paige was not somewhere he needed or wanted to be. It was an interesting and adventurous part of his past, and he and Paige were still very good friends, but that was all. Now his life was going in a new direction. He smiled, thinking of Kira again. Then he instantly shuddered at the thought of Kira meeting Paige. It was bound to happen at some point. He remembered how well the encounter with Simone had gone. Stark sighed heavily. That was not something he would like to repeat. And with Paige he feared it would be worse. Simone was a catty bitch but Paige represented a whole different chapter of his life, one that had become a big part of him. It was a part he feared Kira would never be able to understand.
**
Kira was in her office finishing her morning notes when Abbey came in with fresh coffee. “To what do I owe this?” Kira asked suspiciously.
Abbey shut the door behind her and handed Kira the coffee. “OK, spill it!” she said anxiously. “I’ve been waiting for some kind of details all morning. When you left here Friday you were piping mad, and then Stark called, all frantic, looking for you, and Holt came by.”
“Wait, Holt came by?” Kira asked, worried. “What did he want?”
I’m sure he wanted to spend the weekend with you. By the way, you were off visiting your family this weekend if he asks,” she said quickly.
Kira laughed, “OK, OK.” She wondered why Holt hadn’t asked about her family this morning when she rode to work with him. Either he knew that hadn’t been where she went or he was too self-absorbed to care about her family. For now she would have to hope it was the latter. If Holt knew about her and Stark, it could make things very difficult.
Abbey sat staring at her, waiting for her to elaborate on the weekend. Kira knew she would have to tell her some details, and to be honest, she really wanted to be able to talk to someone about everything that was going on. Kira felt she could trust Abbey. After all, she had already covered for her once. “Abbey,” she began, “I can’t stress enough how top secret this has to be.”
“Are you kidding?” Abbey said, sounding a little hurt. “You don’t get to be the wife of a Sergeant Major for twenty-plus years if you don’t know when to keep your mouth shut. So spill it. Did he find you? He sounded hot and heavy when he called here looking for you. He was so damn worried about you and that death trap of a car.”
Kira recounted the events of her car crash and walking to the diner in the snow. Abbey had a look of horror on her face as Kira described the awful scene. She told her about the diner and Stark bursting in and the kiss.
“Oh,” Abbey said, leaning back in her chair. “That is so stinking romantic! Did you guys go on to the mountains? Did you get to ski?”
Kira told her about Stark’s house and the fun they had skiing. She left out the sordid sex details.
“Wow, a big house in Aspen, that’s pricey. That’s way too pricey for an Army sergeant,” Abbey said, alarm bells going off. She looked concerned.
Kira explained with minimum details about Stark’s family and the death of his mom and sister.
“Oh, bless his poor sweet heart,” Abbey said. She already liked Stark, but now felt more attached to him and wanted to see him and Kira happy. “So, what do you think of him? How do you feel about him?”
“I’m not sure. I never wanted anything like this to happen, especially not with an enlisted man. Oh, Abbey, this really complicates things. Spending time with Holt is bad enough. But Owen Stark….” She paused, sighing as she said his name. “Owen is different altogether. I’m afraid I feel more for him than is healthy.” She finished just as Holt came knocking at her office door.
“You ready for lunch?” he asked impatiently. Kira could see he was in a hurry as usual.
“I might just stay in today. I have a lot of work to get done. Can we take a rain check?” she asked politely.
“Nice try, this is a rain check for Friday.” He laughed softly and held out her coat. “You’re going to turn into a hermit if you don’t get out some. It’s not healthy to work so much. You have to get out and live a little.”
Kira felt a twinge of guilt. Oh if you only knew, she thought. Poor Holt. She could see that despite his self-absorbed nature, Holt was trying. “OK, lunch it is,” she said, allowing him to help her with her coat. As she followed him out of the clinic, Abbey shot her a what the hell are you thinking? look. Kira was wondering the same thing and how she would manage to work it all out.
On the drive to the restaurant Holt talked endlessly, almost nervously, about random events on base and his weekend. Kira was only partly paying attention. She nodded and commented in the right places but her mind was hundreds of miles away in Aspen. Oh, how she longed to be sitting by the fire, nestled in Stark’s arms. She loved the smell of him when she placed her nose at the crux of his neck and shoulder. Mmm. Kira snapped back to the present as they stopped abruptly at a stop sign.
“Fucking idiots,” Holt snapped as two guys on motorcycles crossed in front of them at the intersection. “Clearly we had the right of way. What kinds of assholes drive around Colorado in the fucking cold on motorcycles anyway?”
Kira looked up as they passed. To her it seemed like slow motion. On the blacked out motorcycle, the rider in black leathers and a full face helmet turned and saluted Kira as he passed. Oh God, it’s him! Suddenly her heart raced like a motor and Kira realized she was holding her breath. On the other side of the car Holt was still ranting, but he sounded a million miles away. Kira knew Stark had seen her. What she wouldn’t give to jump on the back of that motorcycle and go with him.
Her mind was competing for speed with her heart as they pulled into the diner. Kira wondered what Stark must be thinking. She knew that she and Holt were just friends, but she wasn’t sure that Stark and Holt understood that. Holt jumped out quickly and ran around to open her door. His gesture, while genuine, seemed a little out of place for lunch with a friend. Kira got the sinking feeling that Holt was hoping for something more. As they made their way to the door Holt placed a gentle but possessive hand on the small of her back. She stiffened slightly and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. While Holt was growing on her as a friend, she was not interested in this type of affection from him.
They sat in a corner booth. Holt didn’t seem to mind sitting with his back to the door. This bothered Kira but she couldn’t place exactly why. She understood that perhaps he had never really faced any danger, that he had never existed in a real theater of war and thus the survival instincts that her father had so notably possessed were lost on him. Maybe it was a fine point in the distinction between him and Stark. She was beginning to realize that Star
k was more like her father than she cared to admit, the very thing she had set out to avoid. Yet how could she avoid falling for a man who resembled the man she grew up idolizing her whole life? She was buried in these thoughts while Holt was still talking until she heard the roar of motorcycle engines pulling up outside.
Once again Kira’s heart quickened as the diner door opened. She maintained a calm exterior except for a fine sheen of sweat that appeared on her palms and neck. From her vantage point she could clearly see Stark and his team enter the restaurant. Thankfully, Holt was oblivious. He was too busy talking about his advantages in their upcoming survival training and how she should stick with him during the exercise.
“Clearly my experience and attention to detail will get us through,” Holt said confidently as Stark passed within three feet behind him. Stark walked past calmly with no outward sign of recognition save to meet Kira’s gaze. The twinkle in his eyes excited her. She could feel her breathing pick up. His proximity stirred her in ways Holt could never hope to. She shifted her gaze back to Holt who finally seemed to sense the change in her demeanor.
“Don’t be nervous, Kira. With my help you’ll make it through survival training just fine. Stay close to me. We don’t want any repeat of the disaster at the confidence course.” His patronizing tone pulled Kira harshly out of her fantasy about Stark.
What the hell? Disaster at the confidence course? Fuck that! White-hot anger coursed through her. She saw with painful clarity what Holt really thought of her. A lifetime of determination, her strong drive to succeed, and a history of doing exactly that—succeeding— fueled Kira’s resentment. She knew Holt just saw her as a pretty face, an incapable fragile flower who was hopelessly out of place in the United States military. She knew that she wasn’t Rambo or as strong or fast as some of her counterparts, but she was damned good at her job. She would train and serve with all that she had in her.
A clatter of plates caught her attention. She looked up and her eyes grew wide. She fought hard to resist laughing out loud. Not eight feet away sat a team of Special Forces operatives sharing a huge platter of pancakes. Their interactions were that of brothers who have lived, served, and bled together. They laughed fully and freely, tormenting and playing with one another. The large platter was passed around family style, with each operative piling on as many toppings as possible. They talked over each other about their favorite toppings and how plain pancakes just weren’t the same.
Stark September (Stark Trilogy Book 1) Page 11
