Cross My Heart

by K. D. Friedrich

  He pulled out from her body. The sudden loss left her empty and cold, making her body beg for his return with a violent shiver. Seeking more of his warmth, she snuggled against his chest. She looked up at his face to find his mouth twisted into a crooked grin. He placed a gentle kiss on her nose.

  “Hey.”

  She grinned. “Hey, back.”

  He wrapped a loose strand of her hair around his index finger and then watched it unravel.

  “Come on.” He lifted himself from the cushion, standing before her with all his bare skin and muscles in clear view.

  “Where are we going?”

  She dropped her gaze to his penis as he rolled off the spent condom. He cleared his throat, drawing her attention back up to his eyes. Heat spread over her cheeks.

  Great job, Cara, why don’t you ogle your lover’s equipment a little longer? Wait, her lover…Pete Cross was her lover. She grinned. She wanted to pull him back down and make love to him all over again.

  He held out his hand. Without a speck of hesitation, she slipped her palm over his and let him pull her up. She wondered what naughty ideas lurked behind his devilish stare. As if it mattered. She would have followed him to the gates of hell if he asked. Instead, he led her to the bathroom adjacent to the room. He tossed the spent condom in the trash before leading her toward the tub.

  She admired his body while he spun the handle for the shower, filling the small area with billows of steam. The thick corded muscles of his back flexed beneath his skin. The movement drew her gaze lower. She grinned. Pete possessed one heck of a gorgeous behind. Well-toned cheeks connected to powerful thighs. She stared, mesmerized by his pure masculine strength and virility. She’d always found him hot, but now, after making love to him, the thought of having him inside her again made her pussy soaking wet.

  Pete cleared his throat. Her gaze snapped up and she felt herself blush, realizing he’d caught her eyeing his impressive butt. He stepped over to her. Heat burned in his eyes, telling her he wanted her again.

  “Do you know what I want to do when you look at me like that?”

  She knew what he wanted, because she wanted it, too. “No. What do you want to do?”

  His fingers played over her hip, wrapping around the bottom of her cheek. He tugged her close. His thick erection slid against her wet folds. “I want to bend you over this sink and drive into you. I want to fill you. Fuck you until neither one of us can stand.”

  “Why don’t you then?”

  “God, you tempt me.” He spun her in his arms. Her back plastered against his chest. Steam coated their skin, making them slick. His hands cupped her breasts, flicked her hard sensitive nipples. He whispered in her ear, “It’s dangerous, baby. I don’t have any more protection and your pussy feels way too fucking good to pull out of.”

  Tingles spread across her flesh. Somehow, she managed to speak. “Please, I need you.”

  He took no more than a moment to decide. “Grab onto the sink.”

  Thoughts of defiance entered her mind. She didn’t take orders well and he knew this. He noticed her hesitation. Offering an unexpected reminder, he swatted her butt before lowering her torso over the sink. Her pleasured gasp made his hand tighten on her hip. Cold granite brushed her nipples, heightening her pleasure. The position felt wicked and erotic. His hands shifted to her hips, moving her into the exact position he wanted. He caressed the curve of her outer thighs. Nudging her entrance, he quickly slid inside.

  He started out slow, before increasing his momentum. Taking her from behind offered him deeper penetration. With each calculated thrust, she cried out. He established his claim with undeniable accuracy, seizing her heart and commanding her body. He twisted his hips, and brought his hand around the front of her and played with her sensitive bud.

  “Pete, you feel so good inside me.”

  He shifted again, hitting a spot that made stars dance behind her eyes. Once again, the pressure built. The need to release the growing tension became almost painful. She moved against him. Harder. Faster. The sound of flesh against flesh echoed in the bathroom, while moans of pleasure overpowered the sound of streaming water. One final moment of indescribable joy, and the dam burst forth, waves of rapture crashed against her, flooding her with an intense erotic energy. Every muscle clenched as his name tore from her lips. He soon followed her, collapsing against her back. He lifted her damp locks and kissed her nape.

  “I knew I wouldn’t be able to pull out of you. Jesus, Cara, it’s like heaven inside you.” He took a couple breaths. “Let’s shower, baby. Before I get my second wind and show you another thought brewing in my head,” he warned.

  She chuckled, stood, and turned in his arms. “I’ll wash your back and you wash mine.”

  He growled before giving her another playful swat on her bottom.

  * * * *

  After their steamy shower, Pete walked Cara back to the spot where she first welcomed him into her body. Wanting to make her comfortable, he laid a thick quilt on the floor. She lowered herself before him, naked and stunning.

  Years of fighting had honed his skills, but in turn altered his sense of joy. War replaced childish games. Battles won, evoked powerful jolts of satisfaction, while pleasure took a back seat to duty. At this moment, as she held out her palm to him, none of that mattered. Cara had changed him when she placed her body in his care. After all his transgressions, she made him crave to be a better man.

  He took her long, slim fingers in his callused hand, sank to his knees, and positioned his body beside her. She placed her head on his chest, closed her eyes, and sighed.

  God, he didn’t deserve this woman. Pete tucked a damp honey-colored wave behind her ear, revealing the soft angle of her cheek. His gaze drifted over her body. A warm subtle glow cast by a nearby table lamp illuminated her curves. She appeared angelic, too damn pure for him.

  After a quick shift, she faced him. Her bright blue eyes reflected an unyielding trust he doubted he’d ever deserve.

  “Can’t sleep?” she asked in a drowsy voice he found adorable.

  He turned away as the happiness that warmed his soul moments before disappeared. “I never sleep.” Not without a belly full of liquor and a loaded firearm tucked beneath my pillow. Even those vices didn’t offer more than a few hours’ worth of uninterrupted sleep.

  “Pete.” Her palm settled on his chest. “Look at me.”

  He hesitated, afraid to see pity in her eyes. After what they’d shared, he didn’t want her to look at him as less of a man. He pulled himself away from her, rather than shatter her illusion of him.

  “No, don’t shut me out. Please. Not now. Not after everything. God, we’ve been doing this same dance for years.”

  He stood in front of her now. “What the hell do you want from me, Cara?”

  “I want you to talk to me like you used to. I want you to trust me. I want you to laugh and smile and crack jokes. Hold me on the floor and tickle me until I burst into tears and pee my darn pants.”

  He laughed. “You’re crazy.”

  She rose from the blanket, so fucking beautiful it hurt. “I want you to tell me what happened to you.”

  “Damn it, Cara.” He turned away, compelled to keep the ugliness away from her. “You don’t need to know. Believe me.”

  “You’re right, but I do need to understand.”

  He closed his eyes. “Shit, Cara.”

  Her arms tightened around his waist. She rested her head on his back as he allowed the warmth of her embrace to envelope him in a layer of comfort. Without uttering a word, she held him. Time stopped, nothing else mattered, no pain, no regret, fear or dishonor, Cara and Pete were alone in the world, an Eden created for them alone.

  Jesus, he’d fantasized about her nonstop since their first kiss, suffered in silence, because of some unspoken code of honor he’d chosen to live by. Years wasted in denial, when all he needed lay within her uninhibited affection.

  He loved Cara, trusted her above all others. She
deserved to know the truth. She needed to know blood and violence tarnished his soul, a stain no amount of cleansing would wash out. If his confession destroyed her opinion of him, than he’d let her go. Let her find a man worthy of her.

  The idea of her sharing her life with some other guy left a wretched burn in the pit of his stomach. He would have to leave. He would not survive watching her love another.

  He took a step back, plopping down on the couch. She quickly sat beside him.

  “Are you sure you want to know, Cara?”

  “Do I look unsure, Pete?”

  Pete nodded. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “We’d been in Afghanistan about a week when we got handed the mission. I knew it was dangerous. It always is when you’re dealing with enemy snipers and their smuggling operations, but I wasn’t worried. My Marines were the best. They’d handle this and worse. We’d done similar missions dozens of times. No problem.”

  He swallowed hard. His hands began to shake as flashes erupted in his mind. Cara wove her arm through his and kept him steady.

  “We’d been out for about an hour. The nights got chilly there and the last few days had taken a toll on all of us. My eyes shut a few times, but I never fell asleep, couldn’t afford to let my guard down no matter how damn tired I was. My men and I were in the last vehicle of a convoy outside the southern province of Helmand. It was quiet. Too quiet.” Pete closed his eyes. He rubbed his face with his sweaty palm. He shook. He hated to remember. Fucking despised it.

  Her palm settled on his free hand. She gave a gentle squeeze.

  After sucking in a deep breath, Pete continued. “A bullet hit my youngest guy first. Thompson didn’t have a chance.” Memories of blood and gore made his stomach roll. “He caught one in the throat. I never saw someone bleed so much. Jesus, it pumped out of him. I wrapped my hands around the hole. His blood soaked me. The kid was dying, and I couldn’t do a fucking thing. I yelled for everyone to get down. The rest of my men hunkered against the truck bed. Gunfire came from everywhere now. I was trying to tie something around Thompson’s wound, when a blast threw me out of the truck about twenty feet. Fucking bomb hit the Humvee in front of us. Fuck, my left side felt like liquid fire. My eyes refused to focus. Like someone glued plastic wrap over them. Another explosion knocked the wind out of me. Blood. God, I can still smell it. Taste it.” He ripped his trembling hand from her grip.

  He had never talked about the day he lost his men. Shrinks and counselors had probed, but he locked up the pain and buried it deep. Now, he didn’t want to stop. The door imprisoning his pain burst open, releasing a flood of emotion.

  Cara sat there, silent. Her fingers reached for him, wrapping around his hand once again. He didn’t dare look at her, afraid of what he might find in her eyes.

  “I shook off the pain and dizziness and looked around. Our truck burned, flames shot up into the sky, lighting up the desert. I found Laurence first. He lay battered and bloody. His head twisted in some perverse angle. His rifle still locked in his hands. I knew he was dead. Then I saw Dan. He faced me, his skin black and charred, his bright blue lifeless gaze staring straight through me. I can still see them when I close my eyes. They haunt me every damn night.” Tears tried to break free, but Pete fought them back. “A strange, gurgling sound caught my attention. I can still hear it running in my head.” He beat a fist against his skull. “It won’t stop running through my head. Thompson was lying on the ground. Not even nineteen years old, the kid never popped his cherry and he was going to die. I dragged myself over to him. He was like ice when I lifted him against me. He made a sound. The kid was still alive. He fought death like a fucking Marine. Blood leaked from his mouth and neck, but he didn’t let go of life. He squeezed my hand with whatever strength he had left.” Pete’s eyes burned from tears. “’Don’t fucking die on me, private. Don’t fucking die,’ I yelled. I made it an order, commanded him to fight. He lasted another few seconds before he died in my arms.”

  Lost in his nightmare, he forgot how close she sat to him. He glanced at Cara for a moment. Tears filled her eyes, more trailing along the gentle slope of her cheek. He dropped his gaze.

  “I don’t know how long I lay there with him in my arms. Out of nowhere, hands reached for me, tried to pull me back from the smoldering wreckage, but I fought them. I wouldn’t let my man go. They must have shot me full of something, because my whole body felt light and tired, so damn tired. I don’t remember anything else, except the blades of the medevac pounding in my brain. Next thing, I’m at the FOB in Salerno with a shattered leg, a ticket home, and my men…all of them, dead.” He stared at his hand, his fist so tight it shook. “I should have seen the attack coming. My instincts screamed at me, but I ignored it.”

  “Pete, how—”

  “Don’t say it, Cara. Don’t fucking say it. They were my men. My soldiers. It’s my job to know. I’m their leader. Every day, I wonder why me. Why the fuck I’m still here and they’re dead? They were all good men, good soldiers with so much more to live for than some piece of shit like me. Some had wives, kids, and families waiting for them at home, and I don’t even have a pot to piss in.”

  He stared at her small hand locked around his scarred arm. All too soon, he’d hear her placating words, telling him not to worry, assuring him he’d get through this. Time heals all wounds. Their deaths weren’t your fault. You did all you could. Yadda, yadda, yadda. The same sympathetic bullshit preached to him by shrinks with no real clue how deep his damage ran.

  To his surprise, Cara remained silent. Her arm slipped free. She took his hand, stood, and led him back over to the blanket before lowering herself to the floor. Warm honey-colored waves spread out beneath her bare shoulders. She opened her arms and tossed him a gentle smile. A tight knot constricted in his chest at the sight of her.

  “Lie with me.” Her hand reached out for him.

  Pete swallowed hard before taking his spot beside her. Against her warm, soft breast, he rested his head. She reached for the blanket hanging from the couch with her free hand and pulled the smooth, cotton over them. For the first time in his life, he allowed someone to take care of him.

  They held each other in silence. They needed no more words, not tonight, at least. Ages had gone by since he felt this whole. He doubted this feeling of peace would last. All too soon, his demons would return. Reality would hit him like a slap in the face. Truth was a ruthless bitch. However, right now, at this moment, nestled against Cara Sands’ welcoming flesh, nothing else mattered.

  Chapter 13

  Cara’s eyelids fluttered open as her eyes focused. Gentle rain fell outside. On the far side of the room, sheer curtains danced, led by an incessant morning breeze that traveled in from the open window. She inhaled and stretched.

  Pete’s masculine scent mingled with her own. Cara had fallen asleep not long after their third round of lovemaking. Or was it the fourth? She bit her lip, stopping a devious smile from lifting her features. Who knew lovemaking would leave her so exhausted? She held back another high-pitched giggle at the thought of losing her virginity. Oh God, she’d lost her mind. One night of sex and she’d morphed into a giddy schoolgirl. She shrugged. She wanted to sing, chuckle, and dance a happy dance. Jump up and down cheering, and for once, she didn’t care how girly she looked. His tender caresses gave her a sense of femininity for the first time in her life.

  She lowered her gaze to the sexy man snuggled against her. Unlike his chest, his back, for the most part, remained free of scars. Smooth, powerful shoulders narrowed to a tapered waist, a tight perfect behind, and strong thick thighs. The arm flung over her chest flexed as he shifted, exposing the thick biceps beneath his flesh. He’d stayed glued to her side all night, clinging to her like a lifeline, peaceful in slumber. Cara recognized the young boy from the picture she’d discovered at her father’s, minus the mud. Joy lifted her spirit. She raised her hand and brushed a wisp of hair from his brow. Although he held onto innocence while in slumber, his pained confession last nig
ht had allowed her to hold on to reality.

  Lifting her finger from his forehead, she breathed a heavy sigh. Pete had survived death and violence far worse than she’d imagined. Would he heal or would his emotional wounds fester for the rest of his life? She had no answer. She wanted to be there for him, but how? He needed a professional. Someone trained to help veterans deal with all the horrible things they’d experienced.

  She shook her head, wondering how she’d get a stubborn man like Pete to a head doctor.

  On the other side of the house, a door opened and shut.

  “Hey, what’s Cara’s car doing in the driveway? Did the piece of shit break down again?” Her heart dropped to her stomach. “Damn, this weather is crazy.” John’s voice drew closer.

  Cara lunged for the quilt, trying to cover their naked bodies. John walked in the den in time to catch a flash of her bare butt. He froze. His expression became a sight more terrifying than any monster out there.

  Pete sprang up, knocking the blanket off his muscular chest. No one would guess he’d been asleep mere seconds ago. Alert and ready, Pete was the epitome of a heroic warrior, sending a flash of excitement through her entire body. No matter what situation they found themselves in, he turned her on.

  “It’s not what you think,” Pete insisted.

  John chuckled, not a pleasant sound at all. “What I think is you’re fucking my sister!” His shout shook the walls.

  Cara drew the quilt tighter around herself. “It’s not what you think, John.”

  His cold eyes spun on her. “Not a word from you. Get your damn clothes on. We’ll talk later. Right now, I have to take care of a former friend.”

  “We didn’t plan this. It just happened.”

  “That,” he mocked, pointing to the spot where they snuggled a few moments before, “doesn’t just happen. How long? How goddamned long have you been fucking her?”

  “John, please,” Cara begged.

  “Zip it. Get your ass dressed. Now!” John screamed. He reached down to grab her.