“I don’t even know him anymore. He’s so angry, Dad, all the time, at everything. Mostly at me.”
Her father sighed. “The boy’s hurting, baby girl. You can see it in his eyes. He’s scared. Scared to death.”
“Scared? Of what…me?”
“I can’t say for sure. Pete hasn’t been too talkative since he’s come back. When a man’s been through hell and back, there’s not much left for him to say, I suppose, but I know what I saw in the bar with your friend. What’s his name? Steve or Sam?”
“Stan,” Cara corrected. Her father never remembered names, like John.
He smiled. “Pete was more than a little protective. If I had to guess, I’d say he was afraid of how strong he feels for you and how hard it was to see you with another man. John said I was crazy.” He rolled his eyes. “I love my son, but sometimes he’s a few eggs short of a dozen.”
“How he felt? Dad, Pete hasn’t been Mr. Nice Guy. I don’t think he feels much of anything anymore.” She wasn’t about to get into specifics. Her tone said it all. “Wait, you talked to John?”
“John waved my concern off. He claimed Pete has hated Stan since high school.” Their gazes locked. “John’s blind, but these old eyes see fine.” He dipped his head, looking at her from beneath his glasses.
Cara dropped her gaze to her fidgety hands.
“Pete’s carrying a heavy burden. The weight of war can be immense, but I think his is heavier than most.”
Cara released a sigh, yet the tightness remained in her chest. “I miss how things used to be, Dad. I miss him. I want to help him, but I don’t know how.”
“Patience, baby girl, he needs time. His wounds are still raw, but he’s strong. He’ll heal.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Patience, the word wasn’t even in her vocabulary. “I can’t stand to see him so angry. All I want to do is grab him and shake sense into him. Tell him to stop pushing me away. Stop fighting me. Tell him I’m not the freaking enemy. Tell him…tell him…”
“You love him.” Her father finished her rant.
She blew out a frustrated breath and glanced at her father. “When did you figure it out?”
He flashed a gentle grin. “I’ve suspected your affection for a while now.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You have?”
“You eye him about the same way I eyed your mother. Not to mention how he ruffles your feathers.”
“He hates me.” She turned away, not wanting her father see the emotion welling up in her eyes.
Her father gave a lighthearted chuckle. “That boy may hate a lot of things, but you aren’t one of them. Maybe it’s about time you told him how much you love him. Put it all on the table.”
“What if he doesn’t want me?”
Her father leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Then he’s a damn fool.” He glanced around. “I better get back to work. Make yourself useful and pack up some of these books for me.” He handed her an empty cardboard box.
Her father was right. She needed to take a chance and throw it all out there. Confess how much she cared for him. All these years and she’d never told him. She’d never said the three words that would change everything, but she would.
She’d slice herself open, hand him her heart, and pray to God he didn’t hand it back.
Chapter 12
Cara pulled into John’s empty driveway. According to her brother’s earlier text, he’d be stuck on patrol all night. A single light illuminated the living room window. Since John possessed an anal obsession when it came to turning off lights, her observation meant one thing. Pete was home.
She wanted to make a quieter approach, but the souped-up engine and ragged exhaust on her car put an end to that hope. The creak of her car door opening on the dead quiet street reminded her of chalk dragging over slate. In the distance a few dogs barked, while a couple of nosey neighbors lifted their shades to investigate.
The sensor light on John’s house flicked on, lighting her way up the walkway that led to the side entrance of the house.
“About time you replaced that bulb,” she mumbled.
Even with the brightness, she managed to trip over a recycle bin blocking her path. The can bounced around with a clatter, as if applauding her clumsiness.
A late-seventies porch lamp flicked on beside the screen door. To her left side, John’s kitchen window lit. Blinds separated, revealing a narrowed pair of light brown eyes tinged with green. The panels snapped shut, followed by an angry curse.
What was she thinking, coming here? She began to turn away, prepared to make a hasty escape, when the door yanked open. “What the hell are you doing here, Cara?”
Pete stood there in nothing but a pair of gray cotton sweatpants. His chest, littered with scars, drew her eye along each masculine inch of his torso. A patchy tan stretched out over his wounded skin, while his undamaged flesh held a smooth and even glow. Six-pack? Nope, Pete carried at least an eight. His biceps flexed as he held the door, his jaw tense. No hair covered his chest or stomach, only a thin golden trail, disappearing beneath the band of his pants.
God, Cara. Stop staring at his…
He cleared his throat. She glanced up to catch his arrogant grin. Her cheeks grew hot and she licked her lips. His amusement vanished.
“We need to talk.” She pushed past him, not giving him a chance to refuse or herself a reason to chicken out.
“By all means, come in.”
Behind her, the door clicked closed. She didn’t falter or turn around, instead she continued through the hall straight through to the den. Hesitation would mean defeat and she refused to admit defeat so early in the game.
He followed behind her, close enough to wrap her in the warmth of his presence. She came here to talk, but now she wondered if her body had ulterior motives.
“There is nothing left to say, Cara.” He stood a foot away. “You made your choice, and I’ve made mine.”
She refused to let him control this thing between them. Not anymore. She spun on him. She cupped his face. “I did. I chose you. I will always choose you, Pete.”
“Cara, what are you doing?” He tried to pull back. She refused to let him go.
“I’m not going anywhere. You hear me? You can push me away, yell at the top of your lungs, and insult me with every derogative term in your vocabulary, but I’m staying right here. I will always be here, because I love you.” She held his face tight, not letting his eyes stray from hers. “You hear that, Pete Cross? I. Love. You.”
*
Oh, he heard her. He wanted to sing and scream at the same time. Instead, he stood there, silent like a damn tongue-tied fool.
Moments earlier, he’d been staring at the ceiling, his mind wandering in a dark, friendless place. Without the military, he had no purpose. Without Cara, he had no future. With Cara, he’d lose John’s friendship and respect. He had become nothing more than a damaged shell of a man, a stranger to everyone including himself, an utter disappointment to the men who’d lost their lives because they counted on him. He wasn’t quick enough, wasn’t strong enough to save them, but the second she held him, the moment her declaration shot from her lips, all doubt and shame vanished. Her soft hands touched his skin. The tenderness reached into his heart, awakening the stagnant organ like an electric charge, breathing life into him once again.
His hands lifted as if led by some invisible force, and he was too weak to stop them. They settled on the gentle curves of her hips and traveled up along the slope of her back. All the while, their gazes never severed. She moistened her lips. He did the same. Her act elicited the faint aroma of cherries and peppermint. Damn, her scent made him hungry. His mind spun. He was dizzy with the need to taste her. He hadn’t even opened the bottle of liquor yet and he was intoxicated with his desire for her.
He curled his hands around her nape, weaved his fingers in her hair, and massaged her scalp. The strands flowed through his hands like golden-brown ribbons of silk. Her breathing quickened. Her tee
th raked her bottom lip as her eyes slipped shut.
“What the hell are we doing, Cara?” he whispered. His forehead rested on hers. “We should stop.”
“Do you want to stop?” She hesitated a second before her hand moved down his body and settled between his legs.
His head fell back. “God, Cara.” His reaction must have given her more confidence, because she began to move her hand. Not like an experienced seductress, but like a curious, virtuous angel.
“Because I sure don’t.”
She leaned in. So damn innocent with her touch. Her lips brushed his. He refused to hold back anymore. Not when her soft body pressed against his, begging for release and her hand caressing him with trust and affection.
*
Cara knew the second Pete surrendered. He growled, fisted his fingers in her hair, and kissed her. Strong hands traveled along her curves before landing on her behind.
“This is what you do to me, Cara.” He ground his erection against her sex. Tingling sensations made her moan. “So hard I can’t think. So fucking hot, I feel like I’m going to burn up right here in your arms.”
“Pete,” she murmured.
He led her back toward the couch until they tumbled onto the soft cushion. Her head bumped the hard sofa arm. “Ouch.” She rubbed the sore spot and chuckled.
“Sorry, baby.” He adjusted them. His shift placed his hips between her thighs.
“It’s okay.” She slid a hand down his back and squeezed his firm butt cheek. “I’m tougher than I look.”
Pete growled before he stole her lips for another searing kiss. “You drive me crazy, baby.”
“Ditto.”
He laughed against her neck, nibbling and sucking her oversensitive skin until the pressure in her pussy threatened to erupt. His hands went to the bottom of her shirt. “Get this off,” he demanded, struggling to get her shirt over her head.
She leaned up to give him better access. Once free, he tossed the obstructive garment across the room. His frustration filled her with playful abandon. She giggled, tossing her head back.
“You think it’s funny?” He nipped her shoulder. She gasped. “That’s how I punish a naughty girl.”
Freeing the front clasp, he yanked off her bra with ease. Cool air hit her nipples, tightening them further. Her jeans hit the floor next. Goosebumps formed on her bare legs when Pete’s fingers traveled over her hip, closer to her secrets.
He stopped and stared down at her naked breasts before moving his gaze over her black cotton panties. He licked his lips. “Jesus, you are fucking perfect.”
Without another word, he leaned down, pulled her taut peak between his lips, and suckled. She arched her spine, begging for more. Electric current shot across her skin as if he’d plugged her into a wall outlet.
“Yes, Pete, don’t stop.”
“Never.”
He switched to the other side, offering her other breast his attention. His hands caressed her, touching her in ways no one had or ever would again. Sensations surged through her. Tingling vibrations pulsated between her thighs, becoming a budding heat she feared would consume her.
She needed to drag her hands along his naked flesh. Feel the utter strength of him beneath her fingers. Pulling at his pants, she became frantic, desperate to see every inch of his incredible body. He lifted up, allowing her to tug his pants past his hips. He finished the rest of the way, removing his boxers as well. His erection sprang free, silk over steel and all for her.
“Wait.” Pete leaned over, grabbed his wallet from the coffee table, and pulled something from one of its compartments.
“You always carry a condom around in your wallet?” She didn’t like to consider the anticipated offers from other women while he had her trapped beneath his body.
He grinned. “This thing has been in my wallet forever.”
“Oh, is it still good?”
“I hope so.” He tore off the seal.
She bit her lip. “I want to put it on you.” He nipped at her hand as she snatched the package from his fingers. “Looks good to me.” She slid the rubber out and covered Pete’s entire length. He expelled an appreciative moan.
He lay atop of her now. Her panties were the one thing standing between her and the fantasy she had dreamed of her entire life. Staring at her in silence, his handsome features grew serious, almost sad. She didn’t dare speak, terrified he would change his mind. Her racing heart pounded in her ears as his hand came up and stroked her cheek with a tenderness she hadn’t seen since before he left all those years ago.
“There’s no going back.”
“I sure hope not.” She never wanted to go back. She pulled him down and kissed him.
While massaging his fingers over her stomach, he hesitated a second before slipping his hand beneath her panties. She rose, allowing him to tug them over her hips, wiggling until he pulled them off.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. He rolled his gaze across her features, as if mesmerized. She gasped when his finger penetrated her. “So tight…so wet for me.” She arched, biting her lip as he toyed and teased her.
“I’m glad I waited for you, for this,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed. He tilted his head. “Are you a…No, you can’t be.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Cara, I didn’t know. We can’t…”
Shoot, he’s going to change his mind. Do something! She reached down between their bodies and closed her fingers around his rigid shaft. “We can, Pete. I want you. No one else.”
His eyes rolled back as she stroked her fingers along his length. His mouth hung open. She watched him in awe. God, his parted lips and heavy lidded eyes made her want to do naughty things. Pete moaned deeply. Animalistic and erotic, his growls made her hotter, braver. Her right hand joined her left hand, locking around Pete’s shaft like a shackle. He began to move in her grip, controlling how hard and fast she touched him. She was lost in the sound of his pleasured moans, caught up in years of unrequited passion and denial. Cara’s emotions flew through the endless maze with no exit in sight. Whether she found her way out or not, she didn’t care. She had what she always wanted. She had Pete.
“Kiss me. Please,” she whispered.
He captured her mouth without hesitation, plunging his tongue between her lips as he thrust his cock in her hands. She felt him waver, as if to back away. She feared sanity had latched on to him again, but instead he lowered himself, dragging his tongue down the center of her chest. As if still searching for his destination, he continued to slide his lips over her belly, stopping when his mouth hovered over her throbbing bud. He didn’t dive right in. Instead, he kissed her inner thigh and then paused. She knew why the second his finger brushed over her tattoo.
“A four leaf clover. You got this for me, didn’t you, baby.”
She brushed her fingers through his cropped hair. “You were all the luck I needed, Pete. I wanted you with me…always.”
“Cara.” He kissed the tiny design before moving to the bundle of nerves hidden between her wet nether lips. His tongue ran the length of her, and then licked, sucked, and teased her swollen clit until she screamed his name.
“Pete, I need you now,” she begged.
Once he lifted himself over her, she wasted no time. She positioned herself beneath him, wrapped her legs around his hips, and guided him right where she wanted him. He nudged her opening, as if testing her body’s acceptance, and then sunk into her no more than an inch. He stopped, his arms shaking, his tattoos glistening with perspiration.
“Jesus, you’re so tight, baby. Don’t want…to…hurt you.”
He pulled out, and for one horrible second she thought he’d changed his mind, but then he sunk in deeper, this time with a swift thrust, and broke through her innocence. Pain hit her sharp and quick. She gasped. He stilled inside her and pulled out halfway.
He stared at her. “You okay?” he asked, his voice raspy and tense. Sweat beaded on his brow as his lip quivered. She knew he restrained his de
sire and she loved him for it.
She nodded, unable to speak, while he continued to fill her.
He leaned in and brushed a kiss to her lips. “I don’t know how long I can last, baby. You feel too fucking good.”
Once he’d buried himself to the hilt inside her, he stared into her eyes. “My sweet Cara,” he said and then he started to move.
His hips rolled with a slow, careful momentum. When she showed the slightest hint of pain, he would ease back, taking her lips instead in order to bring her pleasure. The burn soon changed to different kind of heat, an enjoyment she didn’t expect her first time. Needing more of him, she lifted herself, allowing his cock to slip deeper inside her. He’d warned her there was no going back. She didn’t want to go back, never wanted to go back to the distance hovering between them for so long. She wanted to stay within this erotic intimacy forever.
He began to pump in and out, faster, with an urgency he hadn’t exhibited before. He shifted his angle, slid his hand between their bodies, and hunted until his thumb found the exact spot to make her purr. His actions created an intense pressure, so powerful she feared she would explode in his arms.
Pleasure erupted across her senses. Her legs tightened around him. Every muscle in her body contracted. She’d experienced an orgasm before by her own hand, but this passionate rush bordered on pain, rocketing through her with enough power to take out an entire country. Throwing her head back, Cara cried out Pete’s name in a voice she didn’t recognize. Seconds after his name left her lips, he tensed, forced himself deep inside her one last time, and shuddered, following her into blissful rapture.
Soon breathless sighs mingled with the hum of the ceiling fan. A tear fell from the corner of her eye. Intense emotions dangled at the edge of her sanity.
“Did I hurt you?” He wiped the tear from her cheek.
“No. That was…” No adjective came close to describing the ecstasy of having Pete deep inside her.
He smiled. “Yeah, it was.”
Cross My Heart Page 16
