by Leslie Jones
She shifted restlessly on the sofa. Now too wired to sleep, she looked at the clock. It was barely seven twenty in the evening. The setting sun filtered in around the edges of the shuttered windows, leaving the interior dim. She shivered again. She’d never been afraid of the dark, instead viewing it as an ally. Now, after so many hours restricted by the blindfold, by the perpetual dimness of her cell, she wasn’t so sure. Being unable to tell night from day had been psychologically more debilitating than she could ever have imagined. SERE training—Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape—had been rough, the toughest experience of her life. And yet, in comparison to the real thing, it had been fun on a playground.
Her thoughts turned, as they had so often over the past week, to her rescuers, namely Jace. They had all kept her safe, of course, but on Jace’s orders.
Jace, who wanted her.
His guilt consumed him, but he had done nothing over which to condemn himself. In the end, he had not killed her. The hated perfume, a humiliating precursor of things to come, had, instead, saved her life. The irony was intense.
The thought that she’d almost died felt surreal, like it had happened to someone else. Supposedly, her life was meant to flash before her eyes, but hers had not. There had merely been a sense of things undone, a life she’d never get to live. And in that moment, she’d wanted things she’d never considered before. A husband. A family. She still could not see herself in any kind of a nine-to-five job. But someone to love, who cherished her . . .
She looked up at the ceiling. Jace’s bedroom was right above her.
Without another thought, she slipped from the sofa and padded up the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
September 6. 7:25 P.M.
FOB Hollow Straw, al-Zadr Air Force Base
THE FOURTH STAIR CREAKED. Just a little. He’d never fixed it because old habits died hard, and he figured it was merely another early warning system in the extremely unlikely event terrorists infiltrated his house on al-Zadr Air Base. Much more likely was that his guest was coming up the stairs, probably to use the bathroom. Jace listened to her attempts to be silent and chuckled. The truth was, she was good. Better than good. But she wasn’t an operator. Delta Force operators were the best in the world, despite the SAS and SEALs both claiming the honor. Delta still had the highest dropout rate during Selection. What was it, ninety-four percent, compared to the SEALs’ eighty and the SAS’s ninety percent?
As expected, Heather went into the bathroom and closed the door. The toilet flushed and the water ran. He waited for her to go back downstairs. When he didn’t hear her, he found himself sitting up in bed, straining for a sound. Had she moved, and he hadn’t heard her?
No way.
He rolled onto his back and looked at his watch. It was a little before seven thirty, and he had to be conscious at one in the morning and able at two. He was on the verge of investigating anyway, fearing she had fallen, or . . . or what? He flopped back onto the sheets, laughing at himself. She was no longer in any danger. Her injuries had all but healed. He was being an idiot. The truth was, he burned for her to push open his door, get in next to him, and . . .
Holy shit. As though he had conjured it, the knob on his bedroom door turned.
She came through the door like a wraith, drifting closer and closer. Jace waited, curious to see what she would do. Did she want to talk?
What she did blew his mind. She lifted the corner of the sheet, and slid in next to him.
HEATHER SHIVERED. So cold. All she could focus on was Jace’s heat. He would warm her. He would make the nightmares go away. He could do it.
Easing under the sheet, she shifted carefully across the mattress until she encountered a solid body. Maybe she could just lie here and get warm, and slip out again in a few hours, before he ever knew she had been there. But strong arms surrounded her, pulling her in close to him. She welcomed the furnace blast of heat as he plastered her against a hard, sculpted chest. Oh, shit. Jace slept nude; not something she had even considered before she crept into his bed. Tilting her head up, she met his eyes, black in the dimness.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding much more breathless than she intended. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” he said. “Nightmares?”
How had he known? She nodded, her throat suddenly closed up. Had he also had nightmares after his ordeal? “Do they ever go away?”
His breath was warm against her face. “Eventually. Maybe. Some things never leave your mind, though. Can’t exorcise them, no matter what.” He ran his hands up her arms, his touch sure and gentle and not nearly as impersonal as it had been in the desert. Or downstairs. “I’ll tell you a secret, though. A time-honored way to get rid of them.”
“What?”
She felt rather than saw the quick grin. “Have sex with the nearest naked man, as fast as you can. And as often as humanly possible.”
She huffed out a laugh and shook her head, but she suddenly knew he was only half joking. As an affirmation of life, as proof she had not died in a prison cell in the mountains of Sari Daru Province, to remember she was not the animal they had tried to make her but a human being of strength and resolve—she clung to him, praying he had not merely been teasing her.
“I kept trying to figure out what I did wrong,” she whispered. “If I’d handled things differently, if I hadn’t told my boss we needed to talk to the police. If I . . .”
Jace placed a single finger over her mouth. “You can drive yourself crazy with hindsight. No one can know for certain what would have happened. Someone knew something, and thought you knew something as well.”
“I still think they’re wrong about Sa’id al-Jabr. How could the Kongra-Gel men have known anyone overheard anything if someone didn’t tell them?”
“I agree.”
Such simple words. The people who’d debriefed her in the hospital were smart, competent men. And they’d all said she was wrong. They’d found no evidence linking al-Jabr to the Kongra-Gel. But this man believed her. The relief was intense. A portion of her heart melted into a puddle.
“It’s my fault Captain Bernoulli is dead. That those soldiers died in the ambush. It’s all my fault.” The tears leaked from the corners of her eyes before she could stop them.
Jace rubbed small circles over her back. “We’ll argue that one tomorrow. It wasn’t your fault some terrorist assholes decided to plot whatever they plotted.”
Heather hesitated. “What if they’re not done? What if destroying the SCUD isn’t enough to stop them?”
“Then we’ll uncover and stop whatever else they have planned.” His calm certainty steadied her. His proximity set her pulse thrumming.
She had shut off her brain when she unlatched his door and invaded his bedroom, but talking caused ugly thoughts to resurface. She didn’t want to think. Pressing her face against his neck, swallowing hard, she slid her arms around his neck, wanting only to feel.
Jace tensed, but did nothing. She could feel his restraint, his control. Ignoring the faint trembling in her hands, Heather pressed her open mouth to the pulse hammering in his neck. She wanted the distraction. She wanted to forget, if only for a few moments. Was he really going to say no?
Kissing her way up his neck, she paused to nibble at his chin, and reached for his mouth. He met her halfway, groaning against her lips as he parted them and swept his tongue into her mouth. She made a noise in the back of her throat. Thank God. He wasn’t going to turn her away.
It was even better than she remembered. Spicy and hot. Gentle and demanding. This time, she could kiss him back.
She did.
He tasted like safety and freedom and the lick of life. Heather slid her tongue along his and angled her mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He did so with alacrity, causing a flutter of pleasure. Whether he
felt her bone-deep chill or her enjoyment, he hauled her closer until there wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t plastered against him.
“You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met,” she said. He shifted his hands under her shirt, and explored her spine with fingers that touched her lightly, incredibly gently. A small sound escaped. Not a sob. Never a sob. She didn’t make a habit of crying, and she had already cried in his arms once. “I need . . . Jace, I . . .” She didn’t know what she needed, not really. But he did. He kissed her again, then left her lips to explore her face with his mouth, nibbling, tasting, kissing each eye. Licking his way down her neck, he took his time at her collarbone, hesitating at the small, round scar. Heather didn’t want him thinking about it.
Heather grabbed Jace’s head and pulled it lower, trying to guide him to her breast. He resisted, hands smoothing the bare skin of her arm, running his fingers up and down it as though he had all the time in the world. It was Heather who grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it off and dropping it onto the floor.
Jace bent his head to her breasts, hot breath blowing across her nipple before his teeth scraped along it. He drew her breast into his mouth. She arched up, gasping, the pleasure intense. A hand came up to cup her other breast, fingers stroking along the sensitive mound. Shivering, Heather spilled her hands down his back to cup his buttocks, and he reacted with a groan and an involuntary press of his hips. He was hugely aroused, but he quickly controlled himself and pulled a little farther away from her. He was being so careful with her she couldn’t stand it. The hell with his restraint. She wanted him as crazy hot for her as she was for him.
Thank God for the darkness. Her bruises had faded to the pale greens and yellows of the almost-healed, but if he was being this careful with her in the dark, God only knew how he would react in the light.
Heather opened her mouth. To say what? I’m all right? She was . . . or as good as. “What he did to me . . .” Her voice cracked. She took a deep breath a tried again. “What I went through was about power and control.” Please, let him not ask her again. “Nothing like what we’re doing now. At least, what I hope we’re doing now.”
“Oh, yeah.”
His voice was absolute. She smiled in the darkness. “Whew.”
He laughed, a soft rumble from his chest. “Do I look like the kind of moron who would walk away from this?” He swept his hand from her shoulder to her hip. Her breath hitched. Fingers lingering on the soft skin just below her spine, he bent to kiss her again, his mouth growing more urgent.
He swept his hands up her back with an eagerness that had her laughing again. But he took his time sliding her underwear off her legs, fingernails scraping across nerve endings that jumped to life, turning her laughter into moans. He had magic fingers. Everywhere he touched her turned to liquid fire.
As he returned to lay next to her again, Heather raked her fingers through his curly hair. It was softer than she had imagined. She touched his face, and he turned it to press a kiss into her palm.
“You’re in control,” he said. “All right? You say stop, we stop. Anything makes you feel uncomfortable, you speak up. Okay?”
“Okay.” But she wasn’t in control. Not really.
Wrapping both arms around her, Jace rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until she sprawled across his chest. The incredible sensation dizzied her. Her naked flesh slid along his as he pulled her up, until he could put his mouth against her, and oh, heaven! He kissed her, and the amazing sensation had her pushing against his mouth and closing her thighs around him. He grinned up at her in complete enjoyment. The sight of his handsome face, mouth wet with her juices, had to be the most erotic thing she’d seen in her life. It pushed her dangerously close to the edge.
“Jace,” she gasped. “If you keep doing that, I’m going . . . to . . .”
“Yes.” He paused only long enough to say one word. And then she rode a helpless wave of pleasure, moaning and gasping and laughing all at once. He continued to lick and suck at her, drawing her orgasm out. Her body was taut, her head thrown back with complete abandon, eyes closed.
Eventually, she pulled away and collapsed, rolling over onto her back so as not to smother him. He rolled with her, pulling her down until they were nose to nose, and kissed her.
He kissed her as though he would be happy to do it forever, with evident enjoyment. In fact, he seemed to enjoy everything about sex so far. She couldn’t help herself; she started to laugh.
He just cocked his head and waited.
“That didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. We can add it to the can-do list.”
His white teeth flashed in the darkness. “Maybe we should make certain. You know, experiment. Do that again, just to make sure.” He touched her as though he couldn’t bear not to, exploring her shoulder blades, tracing a path down her spine. She did the same, reveling in the incredible contrast between soft skin over hard muscles. Her mouth followed her hands, pressing against his shoulder, up to his jaw, and across to his mouth once more.
He was still hard against her stomach. Heather pressed closer experimentally. His swift intake of breath preceded both hands spearing into her hair to cup her face. She slid her leg over his in mute invitation. Jace pushed forward until he was cradled in her heat, but stayed that way, head down, fighting . . . what?
“I won’t break.”
Jace groaned. “But maybe I will.” He nudged her leg higher, grinding against her. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
And just like that, she bounced right back to where she did not want to be. Death. Visions of the soldiers around her being cut down. The smell of blood. No.
“Please,” she begged.
Somehow knowing where she’d gone in her head, Jace hesitated. “Are you . . . okay?”
“Yes. Jace. Please!”
No longer hesitating, he again went to his back, pulling her with him. Heather ended up straddling him, her long hair framing them both. He reached up to touch it.
“Your hair is amazing. I hope you don’t ever cut it.”
It was ridiculous how much the small compliment pleased her. But it also had the potential to rip her heart out. Even knowing that, she couldn’t bring herself to move away from the sight of him, his masculine perfection, a flawless alpha male lying relaxed, almost submissive beneath her, ready to let her take the lead.
Which she did.
Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around him, delighting in his sharp intake of breath and involuntary movement. Exploring him, she admitted, “I’ve been thinking I might cut it short.” Ever since her brutal captor had used it to control her movements. No. Don’t go there.
“Don’t. It’s beautiful.”
He slid on a condom. Heather lifted her hips over him and pressed down, slowly, drawing it out because there was only ever one time two lovers first came together. Jace gripped her hips, then loosened his hold. She had to admire his self-control. Desire etched his face and tightened his body. His head was thrown back, and she fell onto his chest, kissing the strong column of his neck with an open mouth. His hips pressed up, trying for fuller penetration, but she pulled away, enjoying her momentary power.
“No. My pace.”
He immediately backed off, and she realized her mistake. He thought she was uncomfortable with his aggression. So she smiled at him, a sultry siren’s smile, and pushed him a little farther inside her. And pulled all the way out. And did it again, a little deeper, all the while looking into his face. His eyes locked onto hers. She saw his struggle. He wanted to slam himself home; and she wanted him to, but she wanted him hotter, wilder, out of control.
“God, Heather . . .” He groaned his frustration. “You’re killing . . . me.”
“Let go,” she whispered.
And he did.
He exploded into action, clamping his hands over her hips and thrusting upwa
rds, pulling her down so her breasts dangled in his face and he feasted on her. His hands roamed over her shoulders and back, cupped her breasts, teased her nipples. Pleasure blasted through her.
Jace sat up, pulling her closer, pressing himself deeper inside her as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues dueled and slid together decadently. He touched her, explored her femininity as she gasped and ground against him. This was incredible. There was sex, and there was this. Sex ramped up to a thousand. She clung to him as they rocked together, as she did a slow roll of her hips that wrung a guttural sound from him.
“You are so goddamned sexy,” he said, voice hoarse. The heat in his eyes lit her on fire. He touched her, licking and tasting, returning to her lips again and again. Pushing impossibly deep inside of her, he wrapped his arms around her. He had said she would be in control, but despite her position, she rode helplessly along with him as he set a fast pace. She moaned her approval.
And then she moaned for a different reason, as she shattered into a thousand million pieces, head thrown back, face and neck flushed as she spun out of control. He was right behind her, shouting as he thrust, thrust again, and then simply wrapped his arms tightly around her as they shuddered their release.
She wanted to stay there forever in their magical place. Eventually, though, her body reformed and she floated back to earth. Jace held her snugly against him, her head resting on his shoulder. How had she gotten here? She didn’t remember moving. Couldn’t imagine moving, she felt so boneless. Completely undone.
She rolled her head just far enough to see him. He watched her, male satisfaction stamped clearly on his face. It made her laugh.
