by Anne Marsh
“Where’s your spirit of adventure, cowgirl?” Wicked amusement filled his voice, laughter and something else. It was the something else that kept her where she was. Okay, that and the certain knowledge that there was no dignified escape from her current position. The flush on her cheeks probably kept right on going straight to her toes. This was like starting with a double axel followed by a triple Salchow instead of inching around the ice rink, holding onto the wall for balance.
“Apparently I’m not the adventurous type,” she said breathlessly and, oh God, she could just about feel his grin.
“I think you are,” he said. “Let’s find out.”
While Abbie had been reliving his high school glory days—God help him—Kade had been having a few fantasies of his own. Cupping her ass, keeping her steady, he was pretty damn sure he was in heaven. Since he didn’t want to be there alone, not when he could bring Abbie with him, he gently opened her up.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, because she needed to know that, and she apparently had some doubts.
“Kade—”
God. He loved the sound of his name on her lips. Next he wanted her to moan it. Then scream it. After that, he’d know which was his favorite, and he could make her do it again. And again.
He stroked his tongue over her, and she cried out. Not his name, but some inarticulate, totally cute, incomprehensible string of syllables. Good. He wasn’t the only one not thinking. He did it again, tracing her slick folds. Drinking her in because, damn, she was perfect. Sweet and sassy and wonderfully, perfectly Abbie. If there’d been some way to tell her, he would have. Instead, he had to settle for showing her, licking and sucking until she pressed against him, inhibitions forgotten as she let go and let him.
~*~
Abbie sprawled on the pillows, death-gripping on all that down. And riding Kade’s mouth. There was nothing dignified or elegant about her position. She worried about that for about two seconds, and then it was all about the pleasure. Because holy wow, once Kade started touching her, she forgot about everything else. His big hands held her up effortlessly, and all she had to do was focus on the orgasm headed her way like a loaded semi barreling down the freeway in the fast lane. Or... sure, there were probably better ways to think about it, but her brain turned off, tuning into what was happening between her thighs, and long, long minutes later, she was whimpering something that sounded suspiciously like Kade’s name. And then yelling it for all she was worth.
He licked and teased, the delicious suction pushing her slowly, absolutely over the edge until she was shuddering and quivering and one hundred percent boneless with the pleasure. Oh, God, he lived up to every fantasy she’d ever had of him, and quite a few she hadn’t known she had. He gently eased her down onto the bed and she promptly rolled over onto her side.
“I’m done,” she announced. This was the part where she got to curl up and go to sleep.
“Not yet,” he said firmly.
She cracked one eye, hoping he appreciated the effort. “Orders already?”
“You’ll like this.” Sexy promise filled his voice. “I will too.”
And dammit, she melted all over again for him.
~*~
He eased Abbie onto her knees, slipping her thighs apart.
“Knock, knock,” he said roughly, notching himself at her slick opening.
“Should I ask who’s there?” She sounded less sleepy, thank God.
He nipped her shoulder. “I’m coming in.”
The please that shuddered out of her was more sigh than sound. He loved her reactions. She made him feel like the king of the fucking mountain when she let him know how he got her going. If he hadn’t been so breathless, everything focused on the place where they were almost but not quite joined, he’d have told her so.
Her silky brown hair tumbled away from her pretty face, but it was the need in her eyes that tugged at him. She felt their connection too, and not just there. Although that was damned good, too. More than good. He pushed in slowly, sinking deep. She pressed back to meet him, her toes digging into the mattress and his legs. So good.
She was soft and silky, and when he buried his face against her throat, her skin smelled like some kind of fruity body lotion. This was Abbie he was holding. She connected a line between his dick and his... heart? Between places he definitely hadn’t known could be connected. And it scared the hell out of him as much as it thrilled him.
His knee twinged, reminding him that other things had changed since high school. Shifting, he got a knee on either side of her. It wasn’t like she weighed that much, but his knee protested anything and everything these days. So he eased back, taking her weight on his thighs as he pushed inside her again. Pulled back, then drove forward again until she came with a not-so-muffled shriek, her nails digging into his skin where she could reach him, and then he finally let go and followed her over the edge.
Chapter Eleven
Abbie reached over and flicked off the light. Kade reminded himself that was a perfectly normal response. People didn’t generally sleep with the lights on once they left their toddler years behind them, and Californians liked conserving their electricity. Blah blah blah. There were a dozen reasons why lying in the dark made perfect sense. Abbie rolled over and cuddled up against his side.
He wrapped an arm around her, breathing in her hair. See? He was fine. He’d just had amazing sex, he was holding a fantastic woman in his arms, and the sun would come up in—he peered at the alarm clock—approximately five hours.
The sex had been amazing. Hot. Mind-blowing. The two of them together in high school had practically spontaneously combusted, and apparently their chemistry had only gotten better with age. Hell, he could probably fill up at least the next thirty minutes coming up with synonyms, but she was downright amazing and he was a lucky man. No question of that. Abbie’s breathing evened out, and she wriggled closer. He’d worn her out, and he liked that. He liked lying here, holding her.
He just would have preferred to not do so in the dark.
As his eyes got used to the lack of light, he could pick out details of her bedroom. Moving her to the new place was going to be epic because the amount of stuff he could see defied the cottage’s small square footage. She had stacks of books on every visible surface and enough pillows and picture frames to stock a store. He could get up and start packing. That would be useful. Or... the door was right there, calling his name. Five yards to the living room. Another ten steps, and he could be outside. Where maybe he could breathe, because it felt like a fucking elephant had taken up residence on his ribcage. Was he really going to slip out of bed like Abbie had been a Friday-night quickie? He was no dating expert, but that didn’t seem like his best move.
The elephant pressed down until he could hear the rough sound of his own breathing. The door got farther away, the walls drawing nearer. Abbie had picture frames on those walls, but instead of family photos she’d filled the empty spaces with California landscapes. Her family had left Strong years ago, moving east, but Abbie had never really left, even during that handful of years she’d danced in New York. She was the one who belonged here.
He counted, but he couldn’t figure out the pattern. It was like she’d hung the frames wherever she felt like sticking a nail. Twelve pictures. He counted twice just to be sure while Abbie’s breathing got slower, deeper. The tassel from one of her decorative pillows tickled his cheek, and he turned his head. Six pillows on his right, four on his left, and probably a Mount Everest of decorative shit over his head.
The elephant won. He disentangled himself from Abbie, easing his arm away, and she promptly took over the entire bed. He grinned. Good thing he hadn’t actually planned on sleeping. Pulling on his jeans commando, he moved toward the door.
Stan was curled up by the front door. Stan was used to sleeping all sorts of places, but he liked outside best, too. As soon as Kade approached, the dog popped to his feet, his tail wagging a furry welcome.
Cool ai
r blasted in when Kade opened the door, so he stepped out quickly. Waking Abbie up wasn’t part of this plan, probably because he didn’t have a plan. He was kind of onto the hope for the best part of the night. He looked down at the dog and opened the door. “We’re all kinds of fucked up.”
Stan bumped against Kade’s legs, either in agreement or the canine version of you’re on your own, mate, and then ran off to pee in Abbie’s front yard. She’d have a yellow patch on her lawn to remember them by. He suspected that wouldn’t be her first choice of souvenirs, because she appeared to have a thing for gardening. There was a name for all the white flowers lighting up the yard in the moonlight. A night garden. A floral explosion.
Don’t think about explosions.
Instead, he sat down on the top step and tried counting flowers, but the damn things bled into each other and disappeared into the shadows. There had been too much dark in Khost, and objectively, he knew those three months had left him anything but normal. Unfortunately, the military shrinks didn’t have a magic pill or a quick solution for the claustrophobia that snuck up on him when he tried to sleep inside.
Like a normal guy.
Fortunately, living in Northern California meant outdoor sleeping was perfectly feasible. If he’d moved to Minnesota or Illinois or any other state with snow, he’d have been a Popsicle by now. He’d tried telling himself that the dark was simply dark. It didn’t have to mean anything. He didn’t even have to sleep through it. He could sit, read, run, or even work on the run-down vacation rentals he’d bought. His head, however, insisted that the dark was just like the dark in Khost. His captors hadn’t been the kind of guys to pass out nightlights. They’d also liked to pay midnight visits that had never ended well.
Strong—and Abbie’s teeny tiny front yard—smelled different. Good different. He eyed the sea of white flowers. She had big flowers, little buds, and tons of curly stuff vining between everything. He should probably google and come up with real names, but then he might have to surrender his man card. Maybe he could look up the language of flowers while he was at it and... he had no idea what he’d do with that knowledge.
The door opened behind him. Busted. Abbie’s sleepy voice almost drowned out the soft pad of her bare feet on the porch. “Kade?”
He cleared his throat. “Right here.”
She went for the obvious. “You can’t sleep?”
She dropped down beside him, looking rumpled and sexy. Naturally, he started thinking about taking her back to bed. He could turn on a few lights to appreciate the view. That wouldn’t be strange. She’d dragged on a misbuttoned flannel shirt that barely covered the tops of her bare legs. He wondered if she had bothered with panties and if she’d let him find out.
When she looked at him, he realized she was waiting for his answer. “Something like that.”
She patted her belly. “Sometimes insomnia comes with the territory.”
But she yawned as she said the words. He decided it was debatable if this was baby territory, or if she’d come out here because of him. Her next words confirmed his suspicion.
She looked at him, sympathy lighting up her pretty brown eyes. “You want to talk about why you can’t sleep?”
He’d rather discuss politics. The weather, his father’s recent colonoscopy, or the sad state of the California state lottery. In other words, anything. “Not particularly.”
“Uh-huh.” She leaned companionably against his shoulder. “You just came out here to admire my night garden?”
“Maybe I love flowers.”
She laughed, a husky peal that had him smiling. “Name one flower that you see.”
She was onto him. “Does white count?”
“Not even close.” Her eyes lit up though, and she started pointing to various white flowers and rattling off long, complicated names. She was cute when she got excited, although he hoped to God there wasn’t going to be a spelling test when she finished. His second grade teacher hadn’t covered Ipomoea. Of course, his second grade teacher also hadn’t looked like Abbie. When she paused, he pointed out different flowers, enjoying the sound of her voice, the way her breast brushed against his arm as she leaned forward to identify the half million flowers she’d crammed into the yard. She gardened the same way she had sex. Exuberant, happy, and with a more is better approach.
“You like to garden?” He asked when she finally ran out of plants to name. Stupid. She hadn’t planted those things because she hated doing it. Even he knew plants didn’t grow accidentally, not the pretty ones at any rate.
“I blame garden porn.” She sighed, and he was definitely missing something. “It’s a slippery slope. You buy one plant, and then you get on all these mailing lists, and people send you catalogs with pictures.”
“Of plants,” he asked cautiously. He was pretty certain she wasn’t talking about a Playgirl moment.
She nodded vigorously. “Gorgeous, beautiful, purchasable plants. Then you buy them, open up the box, and discover your new baby is about three inches tall and will take years to mature. So you buy more plants to fill in the empty space.”
He pointed to Stan. “Anything he shouldn’t eat?”
“Bulbs would be bad, but I haven’t put anything in recently. He should be fine.” They watched Stan rummaging around the yard. Eventually, the dog trotted over and curled up on Kade’s bare feet.
Fuck it. He lifted her up and dropped her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her and leaning back on the porch. A step dug into his lower back, and the ground was cold where his doggie foot warmer didn’t cover everything, but he wouldn’t have traded his position for anything.
“Should have gotten a bigger dog.”
She laughed. “Somehow, I think Stan is a keeper.”
He had a bad feeling that the woman in his arms was a keeper. She just wasn’t his to keep. That was the part he needed to remember because it was easy to forget when he was holding her like this. She was newly widowed and lonely, so making any kind of permanent move on her was off-limits. Except when had he ever thought about permanent relationships with anyone except her? He’d proposed to her once in high school, and he hadn’t realized until now just how much those words had meant.
He sat there, breathing in white flowers and Abbie.
After a while, she started playing twenty questions with him again. He’d figured out quickly that Abbie was a talker. She didn’t like silence. “How’d you find Stan? Was he a military dog?”
“There wasn’t a whole lot of finding involved, but he wasn’t a war dog. He didn’t sniff for bombs or uncover explosives. He just hung out around our base. He liked people, he preferred people with food, and we fit the bill.”
“He was a stray.”
“Strays are lost or don’t have homes.” Kade shrugged. “He wasn’t that once he found us. Hell, he was the only member of the team who didn’t complain about the MREs.”
“He didn’t follow you from Khost to here.”
“That would be one hell of a swim,” he acknowledged. She wriggled, settling in.
“He was waiting for me when I got free after the explosion.” When he’d finally gotten his chance to escape from his captors, he’d squeezed through a too-small basement window, tearing off his skin, wrenching muscles to fit because he had one chance—one—to get out and he wasn’t blowing it. He’d found himself on an unfamiliar street and then Stan had popped up. He wasn’t stupid enough to ignore a sign like that. After that, no way he left Stan behind when he’d headed state-side.
“Katie was told you got blown up.”
“It sure looked that way.” He patted his knee. “And part of me kind of did.”
“And you spent three months as—” She stopped, searching for words.
There weren’t any good words to describe that time. He’d been a punching bag. A bargaining token. The scapegoat for all of his captors’ bad moods and political setbacks. There had been hours of torture and beatings he’d rather not relive, even in his head, and that he d
efinitely wasn’t sharing with Abbie. Not because she couldn’t understand, couldn’t take it, because he knew she was strong as hell. The right to sit here, holding her, living his life the way he wanted to... those were good reasons for what he’d done, and why he’d go back if he was needed.
“A prisoner,” he admitted. “But off the books.”
“It was bad.” Her careful statement said it all.
“Parts of it sucked.” Most of it. “There were okay moments, too. It wasn’t all bad, other than being separated from my team, knowing they were fighting without me. You could hear the mullahs wailing calls to prayer. Sometimes, the guards brought us tea. Plus, there were those blissful moments when shit had almost not hurt.”
“You weren’t the only prisoner?”
“That was one of the bad parts. The insurgents had a whole bunch of us, a couple of Europeans and at least one other American. They kept us pretty isolated, but we figured out how to communicate through the walls, and sometimes they paired us up.”
He’d been the only one to walk away, as far as he knew, and he’d bet that his former captives had vented their rage on the men he’d had to leave behind. They’d all been in different cells that night, and he’d had no way to reach them. He’d have wanted them to go without him. He knew that. But the reality of being the one to walk away sucked. He’d spent days debriefing, hoping that something he’d noticed or said would help Uncle Sam’s boys find the other prisoners. Knowing, however, that they’d have been moved immediately because Kade had compromised their location.
”Why can’t you sleep?” She was tenacious. He’d give her that.
“You’re not going to leave that alone, are you?”
“I could be convinced.” She ran her hand lightly over his chest, tangling her fingers in his dog tags. He drew her feet up, rubbing them in his hands. Cold feet he could fix.
She sighed. “Do you ever feel guilty?”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. The move was stupid. Sappy even. But carpe diem, right? “I’d go back and fight in a heartbeat.” Fuck. He was all choked up, just sitting here on Abbie’s front porch.
