Lost in Her

by Sandra Owens

  “Come, Charlie. Now!”

  Her inner muscles squeezed around him, and he lost all the air in his lungs. For the first time ever while making love, white spots danced in front of his eyes. Spent, drained dry, he fell heavily onto her, gulping in huge amounts of air.

  When reason returned, he realized he was squashing her and lifted himself onto his elbows. She tried to pull him back down. He let her. What had just happened?

  “Wow, that was amazing,” his cherub said.

  Lifting up again, he stared down at her. The short, curly cap of hair he loved was damp, her lips were red and swollen, and the pupils of her eyes were dilated. She had the look of a woman who’d just been thoroughly made love to, and had loved every minute of the experience. She was also a very dangerous woman. To him. To his resolve to never again put himself in the position of being destroyed.

  “I’ve never had an orgasm with a man before, only with my trusty little vibrator.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously, and it was amazing. Thank you.”

  There it was again. That little tug in his chest he didn’t want. He rolled onto his back and pulled her into the crook of his arm. Would he be an ass if he warned her not to fall in love with him? He gave an inward snort—there was an ego bigger than the Pentagon. She’d never given any indication that he meant more to her than he wanted to mean. Hadn’t she even said to let her know when he wanted his ring back? For a man who liked to talk, he was at a loss as to what to say. Did they need to agree on the conditions of their time together?

  He glanced down at her, surprised to see her sound asleep. Actually, that was good. It would give him time to think about what he wanted from her. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. She didn’t deserve that. They needed to talk, and they would. If she understood and agreed to his rules, they were good to go for however long the fun lasted. If not . . . he didn’t know how to finish that thought.

  Had he really been the first man to give her an orgasm?

  Charlie was only pretending to be asleep. She had felt him tense when she’d let her secret spill, something she hadn’t meant to tell him, nor wanted to, and she sensed he was preparing his little speech. Imagine his surprise if she gave it for him. “There’s no future for us, Charlie, but let’s enjoy our time together while it lasts. Okay?” And she would nod, all agreeable while trying to keep tears from flowing down her cheeks, betraying her. It was not okay.

  The way he had made love to her had blown her away. Into another world. One she had never visited before. It had felt as if he treasured her, which had given her the courage to step out of her comfort zone. Making love with Ryan had been as thrilling as pointing the nose of her plane at the stars. He had sent her heart to soaring the way it did when performing a perfect hammerhead stall, and she had given herself free rein to take what she wanted.

  She didn’t doubt that it had been good for him, too. That had been obvious. But maybe it had been too good between them. If she was beginning to understand him—and she thought she was—that scared him.

  So she pretended to be asleep to avoid the awkward conversation she knew was brewing in his mind. When minutes later, he eased his body away from hers and slipped out of bed, she didn’t stir. The bedroom door opened, and she peeked under her lashes to see the most amazing butt in the world disappear from sight. Because the hall light was on, she saw his rabbit hop after him.

  Damn him. Damn him. Damn him. She had two choices as she saw it. Keep on seeing him while pretending he wasn’t worming his way into her heart, or call it off immediately before she could say she really was in love with him. Because she already was, a little. Ending it now would be less painful, but then it would be over. No more man with a silly rabbit, no more kisses that sent shivers down to her toes, no more orgasms unless it was with her vibrator. That last one sucked.

  It came down to one question. Was she willing to risk a broken heart just to spend however much time with her Hot Guy as he was willing to give her?

  “There’s a dilemma for you, Charlie,” she said as her eyelids grew heavy.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ryan held up the earrings and ran a critical eye over them. Although they were similar to the ones he’d made before, they were slightly different. More Charlie. Knowing she wouldn’t like anything flashy, he had used the same opals as before, but had made the settings a little smaller and more delicate than the first ones. They would be sexy dangling from her ears.

  Mr. Bunny sat on top of the worktable, and when Ryan held them in front of the rabbit, he sniffed them. “You think she’ll like them?” The rabbit’s nose twitched, and Ryan took that as a yes.

  The lamp flickered, and he tapped the bulb. It flickered again, and he wondered if he was going to lose power. The hallway light hadn’t gone off though. When he checked the cord to make sure it was plugged in securely, he sighed.

  “Mr. Bunny, if you don’t stop eating the cords, you’re going to find yourself served up as rabbit stew.” Both he and the bunny knew he didn’t mean it, but it worried him that the fuzzy menace might electrocute himself if he didn’t stop chewing on electrical cords. Ryan had already put protective covers on the others, but had forgotten about the lamp on his worktable. The rabbit stuck his nose into the tray of gemstones.

  “Hey, you. That’s not food or toys.” He picked up his pet and went to the kitchen. Pouring a small amount of Cheerios onto the floor, he left Mr. Bunny to his favorite treat. Back at his worktable, he took a small white box out of a drawer and put the earrings in it. Someday, he might make the matching necklace, but he thought it would be too soon to give Charlie a set.

  As he tidied up, he vowed to spend more time at his hobby. Because it had reminded him too much of Kathleen, he’d not touched a piece of jewelry until making something for Charlie, and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it.

  The Star of Life he’d bought before his last deployment caught his eye. A symbol of paramedics, the silver piece was a six-pointed star featuring the rod of Asclepius in the center with a serpent curled around it. He picked it up and studied it.

  The past year, he’d lost sight of who he was. There wasn’t an MD after his name, but he was a certified paramedic, trained to save lives on a battlefield. Although he had once considered going for a medical degree, he’d realized that wasn’t what he wanted. The kind of work he’d done as a SEAL and now with K2—being a member of a team who did what few others could, combined with the saving of lives—that was Ryan O’Connor. His wife had never understood that.

  While he had everything out, he took a strip of black leather and cut it to fit his wrist. After putting a clasp on the ends, he added the Star of Life to the front. When he finished, he tried it on. As he admired his handiwork, something inside him that had been wound tight since Kathleen’s death loosened. The knot was still there, but it was unraveling.

  “There’s a cherub in my bed, Mr. Bunny, and I’m wondering why I’m in here.”

  He flipped off the hall light and returned to the bedroom, where he set the box on the nightstand. Mr. Bunny hopped into the room, and he put the rabbit on the bed. After blowing out the candles, he eased his way under the covers, and inched over until he was spooning Charlie. She gave a little sigh when he spread his fingers over a breast.

  Mr. Bunny snuggled up against his legs, and as Ryan lay there in the dark, holding his girlfriend and listening to the rabbit making little snoring noises, it struck him that it had been a long time since he’d felt such a sense of contentment.

  The next morning, he awoke to an empty bed. The irresistible aroma of coffee and bacon had him up and slipping on a pair of jeans. A pity his cherub wasn’t still in bed so he could wake her up. There was nothing better than morning sex, and now that he’d broken his sex fast, he wanted more. Grabbing the little white box from his nightstand, he stuffed it into a front pocket.

  At the end of the hall, he stilled and took in the scene in front of him. Wrapped in a towel, her hair
wet and curling around her head, Charlie held his rabbit in the crook of her arm while flipping bacon.

  “You don’t eat bacon, do you, Mr. Bunny?” She looked at the rabbit as if waiting for an answer. “No, of course you don’t. What do you eat, anyway?” she asked, then kissed his little twitching nose.

  There went that heart tug again. “Rabbit food and Cheerios.”

  She squeaked and spun around. “Dang, you’re a sneaky one.”

  Like a puppet on a string, he was drawn to her. “Good morning,” he said, and then wrapped his arms around her and soundly kissed her. “Best way to greet the day, an almost naked woman in my kitchen making me breakfast.”

  A shy smile appeared on her face. “I just kind of made myself at home. Hope that’s okay.”

  “It is, but I don’t expect you to cook for me.” It really was nice having her there, someone to talk to and start the day with.

  “Here, feed your rabbit while I cook some eggs.” She handed him his pet. “How do you like them?”

  “Any way you want to make them.” After feeding Mr. Bunny, Ryan set the table, then poured a cup of coffee. She was efficient in the kitchen, and he leaned against the counter and watched her whip the eggs.

  The toast popped up as she spooned the eggs onto their plates. He pulled out a chair for her, then sat across from her. “What’s your plan for the day?” he asked as he slathered butter over his toast.

  “Me and my baby are going flying.”

  He paused, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. “Your baby?” There was that laugh he loved.

  “If you could see the look on your face. No, there’s no secret baby. My plane. She’s my baby.”

  The demand that she not take her plane up almost slipped out of his mouth before he caught the words. He had no right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do, but he wanted to. Finally, he settled on saying, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she set down her fork, aligning it precisely alongside her knife. “Flying is my life. It’s what I live for. I refuse to let some demented asshole stop me.” The hard glitter in her eyes softened. “I know you think it’s not a good idea. You’re probably about to bite your tongue off to keep from grounding me, am I right?”

  Damn straight. It seemed a good time to retreat before he did order her to keep her feet on the ground. “Just be careful, okay?”

  Ignoring the confusion clearly visible on her face, he walked out. He had a mission to prepare for, a dangerous one considering the upheaval in the Baltics. The last thing he needed on his mind was a pretty stunt plane pilot. Halfway down the hall, he stopped and swore. Then he went into his bedroom, found his cell phone, and called Buchanan to tell him he would be a few hours late coming in. He took a quick shower, dressed, moved the little white box from his jeans to his cargo pants, and was at the front door only a few minutes before Charlie walked up.

  She had on a T-shirt that said Real pilots don’t need runways. Too close to the truth where she was concerned. She was also sexy as hell, and he’d like nothing more than to scoop her up into his arms and take her back to bed. But it seemed he was about to go flying instead, and in a stunt plane no less.

  The hell if she was taking off without him. He was a good parachutist, and if the worst happened, he would make sure she ended up with her feet planted on the ground or he would die trying.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Coming with me where?”

  There was a hint of a barely suppressed eye roll. “Flying.”

  That, Charlie wasn’t expecting. “Why?” He seemed to take great interest in his shoe as he toed a line over the wood floor, and she wondered what was going through his mind.

  “Beats me. When I figure out the answer, I’ll let you know.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, then frowned as he pulled out a box and held it out to her. “I meant to give it to you at breakfast.”

  “What’s this?” She took it from him and opened the lid. Okay, another thing she wasn’t expecting. “Oh, Ryan, they’re beautiful.” A sudden thought struck her. Was this like a kiss-off gift? “You don’t need to be buying me anything.” She tried to hand the box back, but he wouldn’t take it.

  “I made them. For you.”

  Made them? “Why?” She braced herself to hear a it’s been nice, but . . .

  He took the box from her and lifted the earrings, easing them through her pierced earlobes as if he’d done such a thing many times before. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her. They ended up in the bathroom, and when she faced the mirror, with Ryan standing so close behind her, his heat and the scent of the soap from his shower surrounded her. He inched up until his hips pressed against her bottom.

  “They’re perfect for you,” he said, twirling one with his finger. “They match your beautiful eyes. That’s why I made them for you. You know, the early Arabians believed opals were magical stones that fell from the heavens. I hope that’s true and they keep you safe for me.”

  Amazed her legs didn’t crumble, landing her in a pile at his feet, she met his gaze in the mirror. “I love them. Thank you.” The orange streaks in his eyes flared, and going on instinct, Charlie turned and lifted onto her toes. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down to meet her mouth.

  “You’re welcome,” he said against her lips. Then he took control of the kiss.

  It was definitely not a brush-off kiss, nor did the earrings seem to be a good-bye gift. Understanding that, her heart went crazy. Or maybe it was the curl-her-toes kiss that sent the thing into a frenzy.

  Pressed back against the counter by Ryan’s warrior-hard body, she closed her eyes as the sensation of his hands roaming over her skin consumed her. He rocked his hips, and his erection rubbed her in all the right places. She moaned, and he echoed her.

  “We’re never going to leave this house if we keep this up,” he said, pulling away.

  “I’m good with that.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement, and he winked at her. “If a certain someone had stayed in bed a little longer this morning . . .”

  He trailed off as if leaving the rest of his sentence to her imagination, and for some reason that seemed sexier than anything he could have said. “Won’t happen again, I swear. I learn from my mistakes.” The way he smiled then, as if she’d pleased him, sent her heart to fluttering again.

  Stop it, heart! Falling for him was so not a good idea. To keep from begging him to kiss her again, she turned back to the mirror. “They’re beautiful.” She fingered one, admiring the small pear-shaped opal encased in a delicate silver setting, loving how they dangled at just the right length.

  “I can’t believe you made these. That’s amazing you can do that. How’d you learn?”

  If she hadn’t been watching him in the mirror, she would have missed whatever it was that flashed in his eyes. Regret? Sadness?

  “My wife was a jeweler. She taught me. Come on, let’s go.” Not waiting for her, he walked out of the bathroom.

  Great, Charlie, go and remind him of the woman he said was having another man’s baby. Angry that her eyes filled with tears, she squeezed them shut and took a minute for a few calming breaths.

  “Okay,” she said as she swiped her fingers over the few tears that insisted on falling. “We know the score so we’re good, right?” She gave a brisk nod, confirming she got it, then went to find the man she refused to fall in love with.

  Charlie was tempted to point the plane’s nose up for a few thousand feet and then point it straight down to the ground in a death-defying dive just to get a response from the man sitting silent in the seat behind her. She wished she could see him, see if he was turning green. The only thing that kept her from performing the rolls and dives she had planned was that she didn’t want to embarrass him if it might make him sick.

  He had driven her to the airport in silence and followed along behind her in silence while she did her preflight checklist—a more
detailed one than she’d ever done before. She did have to give him credit for his intense focus when she gave him an overview of what she had planned, along with instructions on what she expected from him.

  But she was tired of having a passenger who seemed to wish that she forgot he was there. So she had said something to remind him of his wife. How was she supposed to know who had taught him how to make jewelry?

  Because of the earphones she wore when flying, she didn’t wear earrings during working hours, but she might never remove Ryan’s gift. He’d said that opals were magical . . . okay, he’d actually said the Arabians had believed they were magical, but that was just semantics. They would keep her safe for him, he’d said. For him.

  That sounded promising, but that was before he’d gone comatose on her. She didn’t resent that he’d loved his wife; in fact, she respected him for it. The nagging worry, though, was could he ever get over her loss? Because he obviously still had issues about it. Not that Charlie was expecting a forever from him, but competing with a ghost for however long they were together didn’t sit well. Would she have to filter everything she said? That wouldn’t be good because things tended to pop out of her mouth before she thought better of it.

  “Borrring!”

  Startled by his voice unexpectedly booming through her earphones, she yelped. When he laughed, it was a welcome sound. Maybe he was over his pique.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you, but seriously, this isn’t much better than riding a merry-go-round. This the best you got?”

  Infuriating man. “I was afraid you’d get sick.”

  “I do not get sick.”

  Uh-oh. She’d insulted him. All righty then. Time to do some serious flying. Following her tradition before beginning her first trick of the day, she patted the plane’s panel. “Let’s have some fun, baby.”

  To ease Ryan into the routine she was planning for the air show, she decided to start with an easy maneuver, the wingover. After scanning the sky to make sure there were no other aircraft in the vicinity, she checked to make sure she was at the right power, then positioned the plane at a ninety-degree angle to the straight line of the coast. Basically, she would maneuver so that her left wing was pointing up and her right wing pointing down as she rolled the plane into a curve, almost making a U-turn.