Breaking Boundaries (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 5)

by Teresa Reasor

  “I’ve never felt pity for you, Callahan.” She’d felt grief, admiration, lust, and maybe even—She couldn’t go there. Not yet. She wiped at the tears dampening her cheeks. Pride led her to turn aside when a male employee walked between the cars to get into his vehicle. She refused to be one of those weeping females who played the tears card to win a fight.

  “Can you drive?” Cal asked.

  “Of course I can drive.” She wasn’t hysterical or weeping and wailing like some fool.

  “Are you coming to my place?”

  “I didn’t realize I was still invited.”

  “I haven’t made good on my promise yet.”

  Kathleen’s face burned with a sudden rush of embarrassment, her head jerked up and she twisted around to face him. “Callahan—” she warned.

  When he turned his aw-shucks grin on her, she didn’t know whether to throw something at his head or breathe a sigh of relief.

  “I’m not making tracks without you, Kathleen. I’m a Marine, I don’t run from a fight, either. You can ride with me in my truck and I’ll bring you back to pick up your car, or you can follow me home.”

  “I prefer you follow me.” She raised her chin. “I’m not a pickup.”

  His lips twitched. He gave a deep bow and gestured grandly to her car. “Lead on, Rose.”

  Chapter 13

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  Cal was sweating with anger by the time he got into the truck. Eating his feelings cost him more in the long run than finding some release for it. His counselor had encouraged him not to hold so much back, but he be damned if he’d blow up in front of Kathleen and destroy the tentative relationship they were stumbling toward.

  That moment in the elevator had been perfect. Until that fucker Warren bulldozed up and ruined it.

  The idea of Kathleen putting him in the position of hiding behind a woman’s skirts still stung. He didn’t need to be protected from shit. He’d by God faced down Taliban fuckers. He’d faced death and survived.

  She’d kept him from punching that asshole, which was probably a good thing. He’d have wiped the floor with his pansy ass.

  And if he’d gone to jail for it, it would have been worth it.

  And what the fuck was Warren doing harassing Kathleen? That was some creepy shit. She needed to file a complaint with the company and nip that shit in the bud.

  Jesus, he needed to calm down and throw off this anger. He didn’t need to be in a room with Kathleen when he was worked up like this. He’d end up saying something that would ruin everything between them.

  While he drove, he practiced some of his breathing techniques to get his heart rate down and leach away his anger.

  By the time they turned onto his street, he was calmed down and his thoughts had turned to Kathleen. He’d called her on the promise remark. He’d follow through if she wanted him. He certainly wanted her. Jesus, not just wanted.

  He was feeling more in control when he pulled into the parking lot next to his apartment. He slid out of his truck and sauntered up to meet Kathleen as she got out of her car. He smiled when he saw soft color tinting her cheeks.

  He watched the rounded curve of her ass as she climbed the stairs, and whipped out his door key before he reached the landing.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked as he closed the door behind them.

  “A bottle of water if you have it.”

  “Cold?” he asked as she followed him into the kitchen. When she nodded, he pulled a bottle from the refrigerator. He leaned back against the counter and offered it to her. “Why didn’t you tell me Warren was harassing you?”

  “Because it’s easy to misinterpret a word or a gesture, and I want to be sure I’ve got him pegged right before I do that. He made himself scarce this week until this blowup today, so I was hoping I’d misread him.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face. The fact she had to deal with Warren at all made his anger simmer again.

  “You don’t need to deal with him. You need to file a grievance against him tomorrow.”

  She propped her hand on her hip, the gesture full of attitude. “He’s been riding you longer than he has me. Are you going to file your grievance?”

  Her choice of words brought a flush to his cheeks. The whole point was to make certain Warren didn’t try to carry things any further with her.

  “I’m going to ask for a private meeting and find out what the fuck’s been eating at him for the last two months.”

  She twisted the lid off the water bottle but didn’t drink any. “And who’s going to be there to act as referee?”

  “I thought I’d ask Tom Hill, our foreman.”

  She drank some water and set the bottle on the counter.

  He searched her face. “I couldn’t tell if he was pissed off at my being there, or if he was angry because you were with me. Could you?”

  “I don’t care what he was angry about. I just need him to stay away from us both.”

  She looked so down, Cal eased in close and drew her to him. Her arms went around his waist and she rested her head against his shoulder. He smoothed her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “When he and I meet, we’ll come to an understanding about you.”

  “That’s just a grand idea, Cal. You need to deal with your issues and let me deal with my own.”

  “What does it matter how it’s resolved, as long as it works?”

  “I won’t have settled it on my own. You’ll have settled it for me. You’ll be doing exactly what you accused me of doing.”

  “Wasn’t it you who said you were protecting us both? Let me do this for you, Kathleen, if I can. He may refuse to meet with me.”

  She leaned back to look up at him. “No, he won’t. He’s angry about something. Every time he sees you he looks like he’s ready to pounce.”

  Cal shook his head. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “There has to be a connection between you. Otherwise there’s no reason for him to react the way he does.”

  She was right. But he couldn’t figure out what it could be. “I guess we’ll have to wait until I’m face-to-face with him to figure it out.” He slid his hand down her arm. “Let’s have a seat and unwind. I think I’ve had enough of work and work-related bullshit for the day.”

  He handed her the water bottle and towed her into the living room with a smile. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  He went into his bedroom and stripped off his work shirt and his steel toe work boots, then tugged off the heavy socks. He studied his bare foot and the prosthetic foot.

  Maybe after they’d calmed down and had something to eat later… Who was he kidding? Just the idea of Kathleen seeing him without his leg was enough to send his anxiety level spiraling into the stratosphere.

  The only way to get past it was to let her see…

  Kathleen came to the bedroom door and paused to lean against the frame. Her attention rested for a long moment on his rucked-up pant leg and the metal pylon and shock absorber above the foot.

  He swallowed. “Come on in if you want to.”

  She wandered closer and sat down on the bed next to him. “I know this probably isn’t the time, Callahan, but I just have to say something—something I’ve wanted to say for the last three days.

  “What is it?”

  “If your leg is what’s holding you back, I don’t give a damn about it. I mean I do, but it doesn’t bother me in any way that would keep me from wanting to make love with you.”

  “How can you know for sure?” His throat felt tight, and he swallowed again.

  She surprised him when she slipped off her shoes and climbed up on the bed to straddle his lap. Her arms went around his neck and she cupped the back of his head to hold him close.

  “What is it, Kathleen?”

  “It isn’t pity I feel when I see that empty spot where your foot should be, it’s grief. For what you’ve lost, for everything you had to go through to get here.” She leaned back to look at him, and her dark lashes were s
piked with tears. “No matter what anyone else says, you’re not less because of it, Cal. You’re more.”

  The wary tension coiled inside him released. He’d spent all week hoping. Cal brushed at her wet cheeks with his fingertips. “Don’t cry, Kathleen. I’ve made my peace with it.” As much as he could.

  For several moments he continued to hold her. “Are you by any chance hitting me over the head?” he asked.

  Her laugh was a little soggy, but it was filled with relief. “Yeah, I am. We just had our first fight, and you know what they say about make-up sex…”

  He was so grateful he hadn’t been fool enough to walk away from her in that parking lot.

  He kissed her, offering her comfort, and tasted the salt of her tears. Kathleen raised the hem of his T-shirt and he allowed her to drag it up and off. She dried her face with the garment and dropped it on the bed. When she nestled her breasts in against his chest and pressed her lips to his, his sigh was smothered beneath the tangle of their tongues.

  He tugged her blouse free of her skirt and ran his hands up over the smooth skin of her back to unhook her bra. She pulled back, offering him access to the buttons. He made short work of them, and slid the shirt down her arms and off. She did a little shimmy he found sexy as hell, allowing her bra to drop forward so she slipped free of it.

  Her breasts were perfect, heavy and round, the dusky rose nipples peaked. He cupped one in his hand, bent his head and took the nipple in his mouth and sucked, then feathered the underside with his tongue.

  Kathleen rose up on her knees to give him better access and caressed the back of his neck. He trailed kisses upward to her shoulder, and when she bent to meet him halfway, caught her lips again.

  It had been a long, lonely, dry spell, and he couldn’t get enough of her…her smell, her soft skin and lush curves, her sexy little noises. He couldn’t stop touching her, kissing her. Couldn’t get enough of her touching him.

  He worked his hands up under her skirt to find her bare except for a thong and groaned. He eased her off his lap, down on the bed, and turned to run a hand up the inside of her leg. When he slid his fingers beneath the lacy triangle covering her, he found her wet and ready. He slid a finger inside her, then another, and her body gripped them as he caught the rhythm of her moments.

  “Cal?”

  “I want to watch you come for me this first time.”

  Her breathing grew ragged as he stroked her deep inside, found that one spot that had her catching her breath time and again. He flicked his fingers and she arched beneath the added stimulation. When he applied pressure to her clit with his palm, she gripped his arm and cried out, her orgasm taking her. He had never seen anything as beautiful as Kathleen O’Connor, cheeks flushed rosy, her lips parted, as she gasped her release.

  When she reached for his belt he caught her hand. “If you touch me right now, things are going to be over before they ever start.” He was so aroused he had trouble pushing to his feet to reach the bedside table and the box of condoms he’d purchased on Sunday night. “I have to take my prosthetic off to get my jeans off, Kathleen,” he warned.

  “It’s okay.”

  He couldn’t watch her reaction, instead focusing on jerking the pants down, pushing the valve to release the vacuum holding his socket in place, and removing the prosthesis. It wasn’t until he kicked free of his pants that he looked up. From neck to waist Kathleen was naked, the beautiful slope of shoulder to breast snagged his attention. He wanted to bury his face against that slope and taste her skin, breathe in her scent.

  Kathleen broke the seal on the box of condoms he’d tossed on the bed, plucked one out and opened it. Since they were hiding nothing, he slipped off his boxer briefs and lay back on the bed.

  Her attention slid down his body to settle on his erection. Having her gaze focused on him was almost enough to set him off. He started working numbers in his head to ease back his need.

  Kathleen unzipped her skirt and allowed it to fall. She was all woman, soft, curvaceous, feminine. Her dark hair cascaded forward, hiding her face and breasts as, with a small wiggle, she peeled her thong down and stepped out of it.

  He’d have her practice that little move over and over for him later, when it didn’t threaten to destroy his self-control.

  She climbed back on the bed and crawled up to perch on her knees next to him. “Have I told you what a good boyfriend you’re turning out to be, Callahan?” It was sensual torture when she slowly rolled the condom down over his erection and lingered to wrap her fingers around him.

  “No,” he managed between gritted teeth.

  “You’re not only a much better man than the only other one I’ve ever made love with,” she straddled his hips and leaned down to kiss him, “you’re a bigger one, too.”

  “It’s all from wanting you, darlin’,” he managed as she sank down over him, taking him in. She was so warm and tight, for a moment the pleasure was so intense he thought he might disappoint them both.

  Kathleen gripped her hair in one hand, leaned down and kissed him again. “Relax, Cal. You’ve already taken care of me. I want to do the same for you.” The rhythm she set suited him just fine, though with every downward thrust he had to recite building specs to keep from flying over the edge. He cupped her breasts again and toyed with her beautiful, taut nipples. When that rosy hue started building in her cheeks again, he knew she was close. He cupped her hips, guiding her into a slower pace as he pistoned up beneath her, deepening the penetration.

  “Cal?” The breathless sound of her voice was too much for him, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. The rush of his release went on for several seconds, static filled his ears, and he groaned aloud. Finally he opened his eyes to Kathleen’s smile.

  “I think I may have gone blind for a minute,” he complained.

  Kathleen chuckled. “How long has it been, Callahan?”

  He raised a hand to shield his embarrassment. “Ten months.”

  Her lips parted in surprise. “But why?”

  That was the question.

  Chapter 14

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  While Cal dealt with the condom in the bathroom, Kathleen reached for his discarded work shirt and slipped it on. It smelled of fabric softener and hard work with just a hint of his cologne. She hugged it around her, settling against the pillows on his bed. He knew so much about her personal history, but she knew very little about his. He’d told her about his ex-girlfriend, and mentioned his brother, but he hadn’t opened up about his parents and why he’d left Texas until he was angry with Wallace.

  And now he’d avoided this. What was he hiding?

  The toilet flushed and was followed by the sound of running water. The door swung open. Cal wasn’t hiding anything physically as he balanced in the doorway on his crutches. His lean, muscular body was roped with muscle. His chest and stomach muscles were defined. Even his scarred left leg and the upper thigh of his right were toned. His sex, flaccid now, was still impressive.

  His left leg was peppered with scars, some still pink, like a cut just healed, others looked flat and shiny like healed burns. His right leg, from his stump to just above the knee, was covered by some kind of formfitting liner and a heavy knit sock. What did it look like uncovered?

  A phone rang and Cal changed direction on the crutches and swung toward the foot of the bed. His bare behind looked just as good as the rest of him when he sat down on the end of the bed, dropped the crutches next to him, and reached for his discarded pants. He jerked the phone free, and after a moment’s pause, ran his thumb over the screen to answer the call.

  As he spoke, Kathleen saw the change in his body language. His shoulders and back went rigid with tension.

  “Yes, I’ll read them so I’ll be prepared.” He paused listening. “I have to work until five.” He braced his elbow on his left knee and cradled his forehead in his hand. “Yeah, I understand.” He began to run his palm back and forth over his hair, bristling it up.

  Kathleen drew the
rumpled bedclothes up and over her bare legs. His tension affected her to the point that her hands balled into fists in her lap. She nearly breathed a sigh when he ended the call and dropped the phone on top of his pants.

  He rubbed his hands over his face.

  “What is it, Cal?”

  “I have to go into the television station for an interview tomorrow. Wiley called me into his office today and asked me to do it.” He twisted around to face her and grimaced. “As a personal favor.”

  He looked up and smiled and Kathleen could practically see the effort he made to shake off what was bothering him. “That shirt looks better on you than it ever has me.” He crawled up the bed to join her and tugged the blanket up over his lap.

  When he slid an arm around her, Kathleen curled into him and rested her head against his chest.

  “You don’t want to do the interview?”

  “No. But I don’t really have a choice.”

  “Well, if he’s asking you to do this, he isn’t planning to fire you.”

  “At least not yet. He said there’d be some questions asked about hiring disabled workers.”

  “But you’re not disabled.”

  His arm tightened around her. “That’s what I told him.”

  Kathleen turned to slide her arms around him and felt something stiff against her breast. She stuck her fingers inside the shirt pocket to find a business card printed with a Wiley Design and Construction logo. She flipped it over to find a woman’s name written on it and a phone number.

  Her breath hitched. It was a new business card only recently placed in his pocket. Possibly only within the last few hours. “The woman who’s supposed to interview you, her name wouldn’t be Amy, would it?”

  “No. It’s Nora Harper.”

  Kathleen held up the card for him to see. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Cal?”

  He took the card from her and flipped it over to read the front. “Where did you get this?”

  “It was in your shirt pocket.”

  The confusion in his expression seemed real, but she’d been lied to before by a master and never suspected a thing. Could she trust her own judgment to read what was true anymore? Her throat felt dry.