by Sybil Bartel
Buck grimaced.
Oh fuck. “What?”
“There’s more than one,” he said sheepishly.
My heart wanted to leave my chest. “Oh my God, more than one what?”
“Ex-marine.”
I buried my head in my hands. “Jesus.” I couldn’t take any more testosterone right now. “How many are we talking about?”
“Two.”
Fucking great. “Fantastic.”
“And three steroid-pumped guys who served in other branches.”
My head snapped up.
A heart-stopping, panty-melting, full-blown, make-me-weak, brilliant, Buck-sized smile was taking up his whole face.
I was incredulous. “There are five men in my house?” Here? While I was sleeping?
He grinned. “Six, if you count me.”
That damn smile. I didn’t know if I was coming or going and I needed to throw something, but there were six men in my house and my side was hurting and Buck smelled too fucking good. “Why are you so damn happy?” I snapped.
His eyes filled with tenderness. “That’s my girl. Had me worried there for a minute.” With a kiss to my temple and a stroke of my cheek, he stood. “Get dressed so André and I can finish installing the new alarm in here.”
“André?”
“Steroid-pumped ex-marine-looking guy.” He winked. “Clothes. Hurry.”
“Yes, sir.” I said petulantly.
“You have two minutes,” he warned.
I might’ve sneered at him as I got out of bed. But it wasn’t until I’d gone in the closet, pulled off my tank top and put a bra and slinky blouse on that I realized he’d never explained what he meant. I went in the bathroom and brushed out my hair before putting it up into a messy knot. I put on my mother’s diamond stud earrings and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like shit so I added lip gloss and mascara.
Buck was waiting when I walked out of the bathroom. “Come here,” he said softly.
I didn’t budge. “Don’t use that voice.”
“What voice?” he asked, using the voice.
“All sex and marine muscle. It won’t work. I know I look like shit.” Wet bedhead that’d dried and gone all kinked, bags under my eyes, hollow face, paler than usual, I wasn’t an idiot.
“You’re beautiful.” He curled his fingers around my shoulders and softly kneaded then threaded a hand into my already messy bun. “You’ve never looked like shit, not even in the hospital.”
“You’re messing up my hair,” I pouted.
He took the pin out. “This isn’t you.”
Oh trust me, this was me. “I woke hard and this is the payoff, cranky pants and all. It’s totally me.”
He reached for my earrings and gently took them out. “Stop stressing this.” He set them on my nightstand.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to rant, I wanted to stomp my foot and curse at him but his stupid fucking giant hands had slipped back into my hair and warm fingers were massaging my scalp and making it near impossible for my eyes not to roll back in my head. “You’re cheating,” I muttered.
“I don’t cheat.” He buried his head in my neck and his tongue swirled around the soft part of my ear.
My eyes closed and the moan from my throat was embarrassingly loud. He pulled me into his body, and when I felt his desire digging into my hips, I arched my back and pressed hard where I needed him most.
“I can’t wait to be inside you again,” he whispered, sucking at my neck and trailing his tongue along my jaw as one hand slipped down my back, pressing me into his erection.
This was torture. He was torture, six feet four inches of amazing, sexually explosive torture. I shamelessly rubbed against him, my hands gripping his hard biceps to steady myself, and we both groaned.
“Fuck, Layna.” His hand left my ass, fisted in my hair and pulled hard. My head jerked back, his mouth slammed over mine and his tongue plunged in.
Rough, heady, he kissed me. I was drunk with his aggression and desire. This was how I loved Buck, raw and domineering, but today, right now, it wasn’t enough. Kissing me, his arms, his hands, it wasn’t enough. “I need you,” I begged.
“Don’t.” His single word was a plea.
Buck didn’t plead, not ever. He took, he gave, he demanded, he commanded—he didn’t beg. Ever. “Why?”
“You’re wearing scars...” His eyes became a haunted version of their usual steely calm before his voice dropped to an agonized whisper. “Because of me.”
My heart constricted but the comparison in my mind was instant. I traced the arc of raised flesh on his scalp. “Are your scars from the marines?”
His mask slid firmly into place. “No.”
“The marines didn’t wound you, terrorists did. The marines trained you and taught you to fight and because of that, it saved your life.” I let that sink in a minute. “You didn’t give me scars, Miami did.” I gripped his face and stared imploringly at him. “You made me a promise then you saved me from that life. And I didn’t lose this baby because of you.”
“I wasn’t careful,” he said stubbornly.
“No, we weren’t careful, but that’s not the point.” This was the crux of it for Buck. He was analytical and cautious and he thought in terms of mistakes and failures and successes, not accidents or acts of God. His world was controlled and planned out for any kind of contingency. “This could’ve happened to anyone.”
“You’re not anyone.” His hands brushed down my hair. He kissed my forehead then he straightened to his full height just as a knock sounded at the door. “Come in.” He put his arm around my shoulders.
André walked back in and when I saw his face, I recognized him from Buck’s mother’s funeral. He made eye contact and politely nodded.
“Layna, this is André. Your new security system will be monitored by his firm.”
“Ma’am.” His voice wasn’t as deep as Buck’s but it was just as quiet.
“Layna, please. You were at Joyce’s funeral.”
“Blaze and I served together,” he said by way of explanation.
“You own your own alarm company?” He looked younger than Buck.
“Private security firm, ma’am. We do alarms only when it’s called for. Your system will eventually be monitored by another company we contract with.”
Jeez. “Private security as in personal security?” This seemed a little overboard, even for Buck.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Layna,” I corrected.
He nodded and dismissed me by looking at Buck. “Is the bathroom wired?”
“All set.”
“We’re ready to test.” André walked out and Buck ushered me after him.
I made it two paces into the living room before Talon was on me.
“Hey, Sugar.” He greeted me with a loud kiss and a Talon-style, full-body bear hug.
No one hugged like Talon. His scent surrounded me as his body melted around mine.
“Hi.” I breathed him in.
He gazed down at me and smiled brilliantly. “Lovin’ you upright, darlin’. But yesterday? Not a good look for you.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically but I was smiling.
Buck made a warning noise low in his throat.
“Easy there, Deer Hunter, she’s all yours.” Talon chuckled and released me.
Three men looked from Talon to me with shock. Dressed the same as André in matching black polo shirts with some sort of insignia on them, they stared with the telltale seriousness of ex-military.
Buck’s arm snaked possessively around my shoulders again. “Boundaries,” he snarled at Talon.
“Nothin’ doin’, nothin’ doin’, we’re all good.” Talon glanced at the three men, then laughed as
his eyes lit up with mischief. “Except Manny, Moe and Jack might be a little surprised I touched your woman.”
Oh boy, here we go.
“They’re not surprised, they’re wondering why you aren’t dead yet,” André said pointedly.
Talon howled with laughter. “Me and Sugar are friends, ain’t we, darlin’?”
I was so not getting involved. “You’re digging your own grave, Talon.”
Talon grinned wider. “What a way to go.”
Chapter Thirty
An hour later, I had a new alarm system, complete with a touch screen like Talon’s, and six men were sitting around the dining room table eating pizza on my mother’s china. I glanced around at all the muscle. They were all talking like they’d known each other for years. I didn’t catch the names of the three men who worked for André and I wondered if that was on purpose, or if it even mattered. All I knew was the second the alarm system had gone live, I’d given up control of my life.
Buck moved his hand to my neck and his thumb did a slow caress, sending a shiver up my spine. He leaned to my ear. “You need to eat.”
I nodded and picked a piece of green pepper off the slice of pizza on my plate. It was bitter and cold.
Buck’s hand stilled and his fingers tightened. “Tell me what you want. I’ll get you something else.”
“I want the alarm system gone, Shorty to disappear and you to stay home,” I muttered despondently.
Buck leaned forward, using his back as a shield to keep the other men from seeing me. “You need the alarm system. Shorty is not going to bother you again. I’ll be home in two months. And this is me keeping you safe.” His quiet voice was just stern enough to let me know he meant business.
“The alarm system is one thing, but the tracking devices on the Tahoe and my cell?” How much was this costing him? I couldn’t even ask because it’d only result in a fight and I didn’t want to fight with him but I was not happy.
Buck just stared at me.
I couldn’t let it go. “It’s a little over the top, don’t you think? You’ll be gone in twelve hours,” I snapped.
Buck stood so abruptly, his chair screeched across the tile floors. A half second later he propelled me into the kitchen, where we wouldn’t be airing our dirty laundry. “So that’s what this is about?” he bit out angrily.
Yes. “No.” I might’ve pouted.
“We talked about this.”
“I don’t know what we talked about!” I threw my hands up. “I told you to stay in the marines and you told me you weren’t afraid of getting blown to fucking bits.”
Buck leaned a hand on the counter. “You don’t believe me.”
It wasn’t a question so I didn’t answer it.
“Fuck.” His hand ran over his face then he focused his impenetrable stare on me. “Look, I can’t do this forever. There’s a ceiling for active combat and my arm’s not what it was. With or without you, I see two ways this can go down and I’m choosing preservation.”
“I think you’re making a choice to quit because of me.” There, I’d said it. “You could have a full career ahead of you. You’re going to resent me for this.”
“I’m enlisted.”
No shit. “I know.”
“Layna,” he said, clearly out of patience. “If you’re enlisted you don’t climb to commandant of the Marine Corps. I’m E-7. That leaves only E-8 and E-9. There are a few ranks within each pay grade, but the higher I go, I’m looking at a desk job or being the senior enlisted marine in a unit, doing what I’m doing now, and that’s not going to happen with this arm.” He held up his left hand with a look of disgust.
Now we were getting somewhere. “So you want to leave.”
“I don’t want a desk job.”
Not really what I asked but I heard him. “Then what do you want?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, I want to be with you. Why is that so hard to understand?”
Okay, so I kind of melted. And maybe I forgot about the reasons why he should stay in the marines. “I want to be with you too.” I tried so hard to hide my smile but failed miserably.
He ran a hand over his face.
“Can we go to bed now?” I asked in a shy whisper.
His eyes trailed from my face to my breasts, down my legs then slowly back up. “Yeah,” he breathed, drawing the word out.
“Turnin’ in, Sugar?” Talon walked into the kitchen with four men carrying plates behind him.
“Um, yeah. Are you staying?” The second the question left my mouth, the plate procession stalled.
Talon’s eyes filled with humor. “That an offer?”
Jeez, he loved to stir the pot. “You have no sense of self-preservation.”
“Not a lick.” He held his arms out. “C’mere and gimme some.”
Conscious of the four strangers staring at us, knowing I would piss off Buck, I still stepped into Talon’s arms. The second he pulled me close, it hit home that he was leaving too. “Thanks for coming down,” I mumbled against his chest.
“Aw, nothin’ doin’, Sugar. You know I’m always around. All you gotta do is say the word.” He kissed my hair and released me.
“Thanks.” I felt Buck’s possessive hand settle on my lower back.
“Welcome. Now, don’t go givin’ Deer Hunter a heart attack, use your new alarm.”
I glanced up at Buck but he was glaring at Talon. “I will.” I waved at the other men and told André thank you. He inclined his head at me and said a quiet goodnight.
Buck caught my elbow and steered me to the front hall, toward one of the two touchscreens the house now had. “Let’s go through it one more time. Arm the system.”
I’d done it a couple dozen times already, but I went through it again, showing Buck I didn’t forget.
“And what’s the panic code?”
I showed him without actually touching the screen. “I got it, I won’t forget.” But honestly, there was a lot to remember; arm stay, arm away, arm motion detectors, arm the windows but not the doors, arm one room but not another, the list went on. I even had a motion sensor on the dock. How they managed that, I had no idea.
Buck gave me his lethal stare. “Make sure you don’t.”
I tensed but the look in his eyes wasn’t a reprimand, it was concern. “I promise. I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t 100 percent confident with the system or with André, because if Shorty wanted to find a way to get to me, he would. But I knew Buck needed the reassurance so he wouldn’t worry about me when he was halfway around the world.
He scanned my face then dropped his hand and took my arm again. “Come on, you’re going to bed.”
I was too tired to question his use of pronoun. Instead, I just let him guide me into the bedroom. When we reached the bed, I raised a knee to crawl on but he stopped me.
“Wait.” Buck disappeared into the closet and was back a second later with one of his T-shirts.
With a gentleness I’d come to love, he slipped my shirt over my head and kissed my shoulder. Dropping to one knee, he cautiously fingered the waist of my pants and slowly dragged them down my legs. I knew we couldn’t be together and I was sorer with each passing hour but I felt the skimming of his hands down my thighs all the way to my core. Leaving my underwear on, he tugged my pants over my ankles and when he looked up, he stared at the two small incisions in my abdomen.
With a whisper-light touch, the pad of his finger brushed against my skin before his lips feathered three small kisses over the wounds.
I snaked my hands through his hair then around his neck as his arms encircled my waist. My cheek on his head, his strength holding me tight, we embraced each other, a million silent emotions passing between us.
“I love you,” I whispered.
In one graceful, fluid motion
, Buck rose to his feet. “You need to rest,” he said with a rough catch in his deep voice.
Grabbing the T-shirt off the bed, he pulled it over my head, swept an arm under my knees, caught my back and lifted me onto the bed. Settling me in the pillows, he kissed my forehead then reached for the bottle of pills on the nightstand.
“I don’t want one of those,” I protested.
Shaking a pill out, he ignored me. Opening a bottle of water, he held out his palm with the pill and thrust the water at me.
Not wanting to argue but not wanting to spend the last precious hours I had with him in a drugged haze, I stared at the impenetrable mask that slid back over his face.
“I’m not asking,” he warned.
I didn’t budge.
Inhaling, his features softened. “You kept shifting in your chair at dinner, favoring your left side. Your eyes are tight and your forehead is creased. You winced when you raised your arms, you cringed when Talon hugged you and you’re walking with a slight limp. I can feel the fever when my lips touch your skin. You’re in pain. Take it. Please.”
I took the pill from his hand. “Are you coming to bed?”
“In an hour.” He handed me the water.
I swallowed the pain medicine. “Wake me when you come in.”
“No.”
“Please?” I didn’t want to sleep through everything. I wanted to remember his arms around me.
He pulled the covers around me. “I’m not going to wake you but you’ll know I’m here.”
The soft pillows and familiar weight of the comforter drew me in. I sank lower and curled my legs up. “Make sure.” I was so tired.
Brushing my hair back, Buck kissed my forehead. “My Layna, my love, my feelings,” he said quietly. “Sleep.”
My eyes closed and I didn’t hear him walk out but the light turned off. Sometime later, I felt a dip in the bed and then blissful heat surrounded me. My last coherent thought was that I wanted to stay like this forever.
