by J. C. Cliff
Having sex with someone you love to the depths of your soul is profoundly different than anything else on this earth. I should know. I’ve had enough women to experience the distinct difference. Our connection in this very moment serves as a reminder of just how much of my heart still belongs to her. Those familiar feelings of love come rushing back in as if no time passed between us.
“We didn’t use protection.” Her brows come together, and I can tell this is really upsetting to her, because she tries to push me off. I won’t budge. We’re going to work through every fucking demon she has until I’ve slayed them all.
I clench my jaw, frustrated with myself for not thinking. I’ve always wrapped up my shit, and I could’ve taken a few condoms from Hunter’s stash, but I didn’t. I guess a large part of me didn’t want to.
“Are you not on anything?” I ask. She shakes her head, visibly distraught. “Ssh,” I tell her gently, while I caress her cheek. “Didn’t we just agree that we’re in this together ’til the very end? If you get pregnant, then I’ll just have to marry you that much sooner than I originally planned.” Her eyes go all misty, and I don’t understand why. “You don’t want a family with me?” I ask calmly, even though I’m on the verge of losing my shit.
She stifles a cry then wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me into her as tight as her little muscles can manage. “More than ever, Stryker. More than ever.” My body goes lax as relief consumes me.
“Thank God,” I whisper in her ear. I kiss away a few stray tears then look down on her and grin. “It’s all I ever wanted with you,” I tell her honestly. I gently pull out of her and lean down to grab the towel so I can wipe between her legs. She seems embarrassed, so I flash her a reassuring smile.
“Did you really mean everything you said?”
My eyes narrow on hers. If I could drill my words into her stubborn brain once and for all, I would. “I meant it all. I never stopped loving you. I still love you.” She initially covers her mouth in shock, letting out a choked sob. She’s crying, and for some reason, that irks me. “Why the fuck are you crying?”
“Oh, Stryker,” she says hoarsely, “they’re happy tears.” She smiles through the fucked-up emotions, holding both her arms out, wanting me to hold her again, which I do. “I love you so much, Stryker. So much it hurts.”
I close my eyes and soak in her confession. “Stop crying,” I command, slipping my arms underneath her lithe body to hold her tighter. I know sometimes I can be arrogant when it comes to knowing the ins and outs of my profession, but I’ve been in this business far too long to know when someone is bullshitting me, and Valerie’s reactions are nothing but genuine. If she was involved with something and has turned her life around, I just pray to God her hands are clean by the time I get through with this investigation.
I know both of us confessing our love for each other doesn’t mean jack-shit when there are still secrets between us. There’s still a steel wedge that’s planted firmly between us, sitting at the ready, just waiting to be driven between us with a sledgehammer. I pray the split never happens.
One or both of us is going to wind up with a deep wound or two before all is said and done. I’m living with a double-edged fucking sword, and no matter what I do, my heart’s at risk all over again.
CHAPTER 32
~ Stryker ~
She lies underneath me, studying me in silence as I do her. My fingers traipse down the front of her neck, following an invisible line to the middle of her sternum. Her necklace catches my eye, so I pick up her charm and examine it. My heart hurts for her, for all she’s lost. I would’ve given anything to have been part of her world and have a son of my own. I think of all the symbolic things she keeps herself surrounded with, and am reminded then of her tattoo. I still haven’t paid any attention to it. It’s been the last thing on my mind.
I let go of the necklace then carefully grab her wrist to lift her hand above her head. She stiffens, and my eyes flick to hers, as I reassure her, “It's okay, babe. I just want a look.” Her breasts rise and fall in a nervous pattern, so I keep her wrist captured in one hand while I use my other to trace along the edges of the most extraordinary, intricate dragonfly tattoo I've ever seen.
It’s only about four inches long, petite, and delicate-looking. Whoever the artist was did a damn good job, because somehow they were able to capture the iridescent look dragonflies have on their wings. Hues of blues and light teals make up the majority of color. I lean down and press my lips to her soft skin right over the shaded wings.
“Stryker?” she questions, but I don't think she knows what she wants to ask, because that’s all she says.
I lift my head then give her a chaste kiss, whispering over her lips, “Darlin’, it’s beautiful.”
“You mean you're not going to make fun of me?”
I let out a weary sigh and kiss her again, feeling like shit for ridiculing her about her dragonfly story. No wonder she went off on me. They hold some special meaning to her. “I don’t see anything funny about this dragonfly, and if it means something to you, then it means something to me. I've been seeing dragonflies all damn week, so maybe you’ve got a valid story.”
Her palm comes to rest on my scruffy cheek, and I can see the gratitude in her eyes over me accepting her tattoo without ridicule. “Thank you.” She bites at her lower lip as if she’s debating whether or not to say something else.
“What, Val?”
“I know you think seeing all those dragonflies is a coincidence, or it being their season to procreate, but they really did come to me at a difficult time in my life. I mean, they made themselves obnoxiously known. Everywhere I turned and everywhere I went, I saw nothing but dragonflies. It was as if they were determined to get my attention, and they did.” She pauses with a grimace, looking a little sheepish.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m glad you found something to cling to that gave you some peace. When did you start seeing them?”
“Last year, when I was here. I saw them left and right, and then boom, the bad news hit, the accident. At first, I was scared of seeing those insects after my tragedy. I thought at the time they were some sort of dark omen, but then after reading up on them, I began to realize they were meant to bring me comfort.” She briefly pauses, then confides, “When I went home to bury my family in the middle of winter, you’d think I’d stop seeing them, but I didn’t. Dragonflies appeared before me in all types of forms. I even started taking pictures, because I didn’t think Celia, or anyone else, would believe me. I thought I was losing my mind. Everywhere I went, I’d see dragonflies on everything from keychains, license plates, t-shirts, and home decorations. I mean, the list could go on.”
“Damn, you weren’t kidding about the significance they held for you. I’m sorry for being so callous.” I kiss her again in apology. When I pull back, she gives me a small smile that lights up her eyes, which in turn makes me smile.
“They just seem to hover around me, Stryker. It’s okay if you don’t believe it, but they’ve become this mystical fascination for me. It almost feels spiritual in a way when they’re near. So now when I see one, they calm me, giving me a sense of peace. You probably think that last part I just said is stupid, don’t you?” she asks, just before she looks away as if she doesn’t want to know the answer.
“Hey,” I whisper, using my fingertips to turn her chin back to face me. “Not stupid. Who am I to say what the unexplainable is? If it gives you comfort, then hang on to it.”
She nods her head, then asks, “What about you? When did you get all those tattoos?”
I give her a sly grin. “I always wanted the patriotic stuff. I just wasn’t allowed to have them in the military where I wanted them while I was in Special Forces. They had to be approved by my superiors, and then hidden, because I couldn’t have identifiable markings. I didn’t want those restrictions placed on me, so I waited until after I got out, and then I waited some more, making damn sure I was good with having the in
k on my body for the rest of my life.”
She traces over my chest in a lazy pattern with her fingers, her soft caress making my heart beat double-time.
“Do they mean something special like mine does to me?”
“They do.” I nod, wondering how much I’m in the mood to share, because they’re very personal to me. “Serving my country was important to me. It still is.”
“I love them,” she whispers.
“I don’t think that’s all you love about me,” I tease, shifting my hips. She shyly smiles, and I have to chuckle.
*~*~*
After we made love, we couldn’t stop kissing, touching, and exploring each other. We were already late for dinner, but I didn’t care. When her stomach growled, I had to finally relent and let her get up to take a quick shower before eating with the group.
The locals had planned a special dinner for us tonight. It’s just hotdogs on an open fire pit, but the fact these people have very little money and want to do something nice for us is heartwarming. They pooled their money together and bought all the supplies, and I have to say they’re hands down the most gracious and kind people I have ever run across. Even though my real job isn’t mission work, I’ve really enjoyed helping these folks out.
Hunter and I backed away from the party so we could touch base while everyone else was busy socializing. We’re sitting down at a makeshift picnic table, eating our dinner, while I catch up on messages and check my email.
The women, including Valerie, are getting temporary tattoos placed by the Wonan women. They’re like henna tattoos, but this ink is made from the fruit of a jagua plant. I found out that bit of trivia earlier today. They say this ink also carries a medicinal value and repels mosquitos. The second those women heard the ink repels insects, they all scrambled to get in line.
“Did you hear me, man?” Hunter asks, pulling me from my musings.
“What?” My eyes lift from my phone to meet his arched brow.
He shakes off my lack of awareness, and repeats, “I got Celia’s trackers in place. Thought about putting them in her shoes, but she must’ve brought close to fifty pair with her.” I chuckle at Hunter. The way he’s had to put up with Celia’s constant prima donna, privileged attitude, he deserves a medal. “She’s packed an entire Nordstrom’s.” I’m glad he’s able to find humor in his situation. It has me respecting the man, seeing him in a new light, because he’s just as stuck as me, having to ride this mission out with Celia.
“Had I not walked into the wrong room at the Local Edge, and Valerie not being who she was, I would be living in your crazy-ass shoes right now.”
“Don’t you dare start fucking jinxing me. I’ll become a monk before I get plagued with all your leftover crazy bitches.” He glares pointedly at me, so I give him my million-dollar smile just to irritate him.
“Now you can commiserate with me. Misery loves company, you know.”
He rolls his eyes, then asks, “How are you holding up against Valerie? By the looks of things, I’d say you’re in way over your head.”
“Hmm…” I reflect for a moment. “You’re probably right, but I do have my head on straight, and having an intimate relationship with her twice now, I can say, with certainty, she’s still the same unassuming woman. She hasn’t changed. I know they say love is blind, but I went into this mission with my eyes wide open. She’s not up to anything. I don’t think she’d even know how to do anything corrupt.”
“Just watch it,” he says with concern. “You got both your heart and your mission on the line here, but I got your back.”
“I appreciate that. You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to let our team down.” The inflection in my voice is full of promise and determination. “Valerie might be under my skin, but I’m fully aware of the bigger picture here.”
He nods, knowing I mean what I say and that I’ll follow through on the priorities at hand, giving precedence to our mission, first and foremost.
“How about you? How are you holding up with Celia?”
“Oh God, don’t even get me started. I need to pay the airlines to fly down an extra suitcase full of condoms,” he says, annoyed. “The woman won’t fuckin’ stop. I’m seriously concerned for my dick.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for the man, because he’s never been more serious. I try to sympathize, but can’t. A burst of laughter erupts from the pit of my stomach. Hunter shows his irritation by chucking a piece of mango at my head. I duck to the side just in time.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Travis called it, didn’t he?” I ask through a wide smile, still chuckling.
“Yeah, he did. I knew she was high-maintenance, but Christ almighty, she’s fucking killing me with her incessant bitchin’ and moanin’,” he says, rolling his eyes. “And I have to put up with that shit, acting as if it doesn’t bother me, when all I want to do is bitch-slap her.”
“Well, have you been able to find out anything?”
One brow arches above his hairline, a look of disgust crossing his face. “You mean besides the fact she’s a nympho? I mean, shit….” His voice peaks, clearly frustrated as he starts talking with his hands in full animation. “The woman fucks like a rabbit. I’m just relieved as shit to know she’s clean, and I’m thankful as fuck for condoms. She’s constantly trying to grab my junk in public, too! Who does that shit, Stryker?” he half shouts, failing to keep his voice down.
My stomach muscles are beginning to burn, because I’m trying to contain my laughter. I clutch at my abdomen, finding Hunter hilarious.
“It’s not fuckin’ funny,” he growls.
I hold up my hands in surrender, unable to hide my mirth. “Look, man, I know it’s not funny. It’s just all your antics and the way you’re saying shit that has me losin’ it.” I do believe the man has finally met his hard limit.
He rubs the tense muscles behind his neck in frustration. “After she complained about everything in sight for the umpteenth time, I finally broke and asked her why the hell she comes on these trips if being here makes her so miserable. I think the question caught her off-guard a little, because she tensed up then started to backpedal.”
“So she was trying to play it off?”
“It seemed like it. It took her a second to think about the question. Then she went into this almost scripted spiel about how she just loves helping others,” he says, waving his hand in the air, “yaddah, yaddah, bullshit.” He takes a bite of fruit, then adds, “The only thing she has on her worth watching is her cell phone, but I haven’t seen her use it even once. I put a listening device in it anyway. Quinn’s not getting any action on it, which tells us she’s off-grid right now. Only thing we can do is lay in wait.”
“The extra luggage of shit, and the fact she’s made it clear she’s not into these mission trips, screams something, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I’m convinced Celia is the mastermind behind whatever is going on, and she’s using Valerie’s money to do it,” Hunter confides conspiratorially, as he leans forward.
“I have to agree. I just can’t see Valerie thinking like a criminal.” If a small part of me believes she’s innocent, then I owe her the benefit of the doubt, and if she’s being played, she’s going to need my protection.
Hunter jerks his chin, pointing behind my shoulder. I twist my body around to see what he’s looking at. “It’s none other than the queen of the Local Edge, herself,” I say out of the corner of mouth.
I turn back around, and Hunter’s face has grown hard. “She’s most definitely the one to watch. I can just look at her and see her brain working overtime on something. She’s a smart one.”
“Hey, boys,” Celia greets us with a flirty smile. She sits down, sliding her body across the wooden bench to sit beside Hunter, while giving him a come-hither look the entire time.
I watch as Hunter stabs roughly into the hotdog on his plate with his flexible fork, and I have to stifle a laugh. Seeing Hunter grumpy as hell can be do
wnright hilarious. As he drags his hotdog through a pile of ketchup, I watch Celia as she observes Hunter’s every move with interest. It’s more than obvious the woman has it bad for the man. She licks her lips as Hunter brings the bite to his mouth.
“Ohhh,” Celia moans out loud. “God, that’s sexy as hell. The way you just slipped that perfectly shaped wiener past your lips, it makes me want one.” Her voice is full of sexual innuendo.
Hunter’s eyes bolt open wide, and he immediately stops chewing as a look of horror slowly spreads across his features. I can see the wheels turning in his head as he visualizes what Celia just said. I start to chuckle, because I know what’s coming next. He can’t handle those images. He’s a man’s man, and only swings one way. He whips his body around, probably very happy at this moment that he’s outside, and spits out all the pieces of his delicious wiener.
He turns back around, giving Celia the evil eye. “You are sick, woman!” he bellows. Silent laughter overcomes me, and I grab at my stomach as he tells Celia with utter repulsion, “You are not fucking normal.”
“Aww, c’mon, don’t waste it,” she teases, totally unaffected by his terse backlash. “Here, would you like me to eat it for you, show you how it’s done?”
I burst out with laughter, trying to stifle the sound behind my hand. His reaction grows more disgusted by the second. I’d bet a thousand bucks he couldn’t eat that wiener to save his life right now. He shakes his head in frustration and gets up from the table to walk away. I can do nothing but cackle as he abruptly leaves with his plate.
I watch as he chucks his entire meal in the trashcan. His jaw is rock-solid and tense, as if he’s trying not to puke his guts out from the visuals of sucking on another man’s dick. Hunter shakes his head then comes back to stand beside me. He raises a silent brow that says ‘See what I mean? She’s a fucking lunatic.’
