Closer

by Leigh, Jo

  “Shh, Christie, honey, it’s okay.”

  Her fingers released the blanket and grabbed on to Boone’s shirt. It ripped as she forced him closer, needing to feel him, to make him real. He touched her hair, her side, and she pulled as if she could climb right inside him.

  “It’s okay, it’s all right,” he said, over and over, until the words made sense and she didn’t feel as if she were going to die.

  Her mouth found his and she breathed him in, and still he wasn’t near enough. Her hand went to his neck, her leg wrapped around his hips and she needed him so much.

  If he hadn’t kissed her back, she would have cried until the ocean was dry, but he did, he kissed her, hard and deep.

  What she needed was Boone, just Boone. Only him, and no one else. Her hand went under his shirt to touch his warm skin. She pressed her palm over his heart but she couldn’t find the beat.

  He thrust again into her mouth, his tongue rigid and thick, and she captured him between her teeth and sucked hard, making him moan and push up with his hips.

  Her hand moved from his chest to his waist, to the panic of getting him unbuttoned and unzipped. He went to help and she shoved him away.

  When she released his tongue, he pulled back, away from her, and it didn’t matter because she had his zipper down and when she reached inside his pants he was hard and ready.

  “Christie,” he said, his voice a coarse growl, warning her.

  “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t you dare.”

  “You had a nightmare. You’re scared.”

  She held him in her fist, almost squeezing. “Damn right I’m scared. You were almost killed. You got that? Killed. It could all be over in a heartbeat, and I’m not going down empty, you hear me? I won’t.”

  “Stop it,” he said. “You’re not going to die. I’m not going to let you die.”

  She pumped him with one hand, the other went to his waistband to push his pants down and off. When she couldn’t push any farther, she reached for her own, desperate to be naked, to have him inside her.

  “Christie. Wait.”

  “No. Don’t.”

  “I’m not leaving you, I swear to God. Just slow down. Take a breath.”

  “Go to hell,” she said as she pushed her pants down her thighs.

  “I’m not going anywhere, I told you,” he said, his hand circling her wrist.

  It was dark, so she couldn’t see his face well, and she couldn’t tell if he was mad, but he wanted her, she knew that, so what the hell was his problem?

  “Talk to me, honey. Tell me what scared you so badly.”

  “What scared me? Haven’t you been paying attention?” She jerked her wrist free. “I don’t want to talk. I want to screw. Now.”

  “I don’t.”

  She reached for his cock again, but he stopped her before she touched him. “Liar.”

  “I don’t want to screw. Not now, not with you.”

  “Don’t preach at me, dammit.”

  “I’m not. I just want you to slow down. We can do whatever you want. But let’s take our time, okay?”

  She pulled away from him completely, kicking off the stupid blankets and her pants. Naked from the waist down, except for his socks, she wanted to laugh at herself, but she was so afraid that it wouldn’t be laughter at all.

  Boone was right, she had been dreaming. This time, she hadn’t seen the red dot in time. Boone had fallen over her body, dead, and his blood had been hot and thick, like the blood all over her bed.

  Why couldn’t she stop shaking? Boone was alive, and the blood on the bed was fake, so why did she feel as if she were going to be sick if she didn’t do something right now?

  He touched her shoulder, making her jump. “Okay?”

  She nodded, and his hand gentled. It was so large and warm. If she just focused on his touch, she’d be okay. She’d stop trembling.

  He moved over so he was sitting beside her. His legs touched hers and she didn’t even care that he was still dressed. She leaned over, pressing herself against the hard bulk of his body.

  His arm slipped around her shoulder. And then, with his other hand, he touched her face. He was so tender, she cried out. Tears came then, and he kept stroking her cheek, whispering soft words that meant nothing and everything. She tried to stop, but there was no stopping. The tears poured out of her, wracking sobs that shook her so that she didn’t feel the old trembling at all. Boone brought her closer but never stopped touching her.

  Finally, she was empty. The only thing holding her together was the arm around her shoulder, the touch of gentle, coarse fingers against her skin. She looked up into his face, and even though it was dark and there were shadows all around her, she saw the kindness in his eyes. He knew. He understood.

  He came toward her slowly, still patient and watching, until his lips brushed hers. The panic was over and now she understood his caution. This was what she’d wanted all along. To be close, to be cared for.

  He kissed her more deeply, letting her know that there was no rush, that she was safe. Only when she parted her lips did she feel his desire, hot and sweet on her tongue.

  For a long time, they just kissed. As the seconds drifted by, everything outside faded and she felt herself relax deep inside. When her hand went to his thigh, he didn’t try to stop her. She stretched her fingers out but they didn’t reach all the way across. The memory of him in the bathtub, before they’d made love, when he’d given her comfort. She pulled back, wishing she’d turned on the light. “Are you sure you’re a soldier?”

  He laughed softly. “I’m pretty sure.”

  “How’d you get to be so nice?”

  “I’m not that nice.”

  “Liar.”

  He shook his head, and then he kissed her again. A long, slow, deep kiss as they fell backward onto the awful bed. He lifted her shirt, patiently moving first the right side, then the left. They parted, but only so he could pull it over her head. Where it went after that, she had no idea. But the move did rouse her to finish the job she’d started before. His jeans were already undone, so she pulled and tugged until they were off.

  Eventually, they were naked. Boone had maneuvered them into the traditional position, then pulled the covers up to their waists. She rested now, her head in the crook of his arm, her leg curled over his, touching as much of him as she could.

  “It’s late,” he said.

  “So?”

  “You have to be exhausted.”

  She moved her hand down to his cock. Bless his little testosterone-laden body, he was still hard. “Make love to me until I fall asleep.”

  He laughed again, but a moment later, he was over her, his legs between hers, his hands on either side of her head. One kiss, fast, then a nibble on her chin. Before she could even react, he’d moved down to her chest, to her breasts, and his tongue painted slow circles around and around, coming near, but not touching her nipples.

  She reached for him and tugged at his hair, letting him know that teasing was fine and good, but damn.

  A quick study, he took her right nipple between his teeth, not biting, just holding, and then he licked and sucked until she was squirming and pulling his hair a lot harder.

  He stopped but only long enough to torment her left nipple in the same dastardly fashion. The only thing she could do was wrap her legs around his waist and ride it out.

  By the time he’d moved down, she was ready. As much as she loved the whole foreplay thing, that wasn’t what she wanted now. She pushed herself up by her elbows, and that got his attention.

  “What?” he whispered, his voice as thick and low as his tongue.

  “Please,” she said. “I want you in me.”

  He didn’t move for a long moment, and she thought he was going to ignore her, especially when he bent his head. But all he did was kiss the top of her mound, then the top of each thigh. He rose up, so tall, his shoulders so wide and strong. His hands brushed her sides, moving slowly upward until he had to brace hims
elf or fall.

  She’d never wanted like this before. Not with the boy she’d thought she’d loved in college, not with the men she’d hoped would become the one. She opened herself to Boone, and when he pushed himself inside her, she felt something shift. She couldn’t have said where, except it was awfully close to her heart.

  She folded herself around his body and wished again that she could see his eyes. In the end, it didn’t matter. She knew who he was. And she knew who she was with him.

  Chapter 13

  WHEN SHE GOT UP THE NEXT TIME, she was alone in the bed. Boone was gone, and her heart sank, missing him. She listened, but she didn’t hear talking, or walking, or Milo, and she was instantly afraid.

  After pulling on her clothes, she padded to the door in Boone’s socks, opening it slowly. No one was in the living room. Had she dreamt that Seth and Kate had spent the night? Listening again, she still heard nothing. Even though she really needed to use the bathroom, there was no way until she found out what was going on.

  Where was Boone? Maybe he’d taken Milo out? She hoped that was it, but since nothing good had happened in such a long time, she didn’t count on it.

  Quietly, she went through the living room, scoping it out. No bags, no clothes, nothing that said Seth and Kate were there or ever had been.

  The kitchen was empty, too. But there was a note on the table and the coffee was almost finished dripping. Christie let out a breath as she picked up the note. Okay. Boone had Milo, and they were just out front. Which was good, because it occurred to her that she had forgotten the gun.

  It was no contest what she had to do next, and it had nothing to do with a gun. In the bathroom, Boone had kindly left a brand-new toothbrush, which she used with his toothpaste. She needed a shower, but she had no clothes to change into. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to risk being that vulnerable when Boone was out, even if he was just on his front lawn.

  Retreating to the bedroom, she thought she could at least change socks. Maybe find a T-shirt that wouldn’t be too big. Opening his top drawer, she found his boxers, which was kind of fun, especially the black silk ones, but no socks. Those were in the next drawer over. She grabbed a pair, and saw the edge of a picture underneath the rest. She pushed the socks aside, and her heart leapt to her throat.

  It was a picture of Boone and Nate. Just the two of them. They were sitting on a bunk in an almost bare room. They had duffel bags by their feet, and light camo pants. They wore white T-shirts with their dog tags dangling from their necks. Nate had his arm around Boone, and they were both laughing. She’d never seen Boone look like that, not once. He was happy, goofing. Looking a lot younger, although she knew it wasn’t that long ago, because Nate had his goatee. He’d only worn it for a short while, about two years ago.

  They were in the Balkans. Where everything had gone to hell. This must have been taken pre-trouble.

  Just looking at her brother and the man he’d sent to save her, made her knees tremble and tears come to her eyes. She missed him, goddammit. Missed him so much it made every part of her hurt.

  “That was a damn good day.”

  She jumped at Boone’s voice, and a second later, at Milo rubbing against her leg. “Don’t do that.”

  “Sorry. I thought you heard the door.”

  Boone had showered. He looked awfully good in khaki pants and a gray T-shirt, with his hair a little damp, and he must have just shaved because his jaw was so smooth. She swallowed, remembering last night, how he’d made her quiver. She looked back at the picture, not wanting him to see the heat in her cheeks. “What were you laughing about?”

  “It was stupid,” he said, plucking the photo from her fingers. “As I recall, it had something to do with a redhead who had a very particular talent. Something you just don’t see every day.”

  “I’m sure it was highly entertaining, but please, spare me the details.”

  “That’s for the best. Now how about breakfast?”

  “Great. I wish I had some shoes.”

  “We’ll pick you up a pair on the way to the vet. We need to see that RFID.”

  “I just want it out of Milo,” she said, following him to the kitchen. Halfway there, she remembered. “I’ll be back in a second,” she said, then turned and went to the bedroom. She picked up the gun, which was heavier than hers, made sure the safety was on, then put it in her waistband. By the time she got back to the kitchen, Boone had poured her coffee. She pulled out the cheesecake herself.

  “Is that what you’re having for breakfast?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “So?”

  “Lucky Charms weren’t bad enough?”

  “I’m a displaced person. Cheesecake is required.”

  He snorted as he went to an industrial-looking blender on his counter. He pulled out protein powder, two bananas, some yogurt, eggs, wheat germ, and some other things she couldn’t readily identify.

  She figured she was having cream cheese, strawberries, milk, eggs. All yummy and good for her. All she needed was a fork, and she was set.

  Milo curled up under the table and snuffled happily. He didn’t even blink when the blender whirred, having heard it so often at her house.

  Christie dug in, and while she ate the absolute best food the planet had to offer, she thought about her brother. They’d had a weird childhood, the way most every childhood was weird. Dysfunctional mother, absent father, not enough money, too many upscale neighbors. But she and Nate had gotten along for most of it. He’d been wild, but in a very subversive way. He’d known in junior high that he wanted to join the army. That he wanted to fight, and win. So he had never gotten into trouble, even though he’d done a million things that should have gotten him kicked out of school, if not put in jail.

  That’s why it had been so hard to accept that he’d gotten himself into a situation he couldn’t get out of. He wasn’t supposed to die. He was the one who saved everyone else. He was the hero, who always got the girl.

  “Hey, you’re not shoveling that nasty stuff into your body.”

  “Yeah, well, suddenly I’m not so hungry.”

  Boone sat next to her, his giant shake in an equally giant glass in front of him. “What?”

  “Just thinking about Nate. I still can’t quite get that he’s dead, you know? Like it has to be some kind of mistake. Nate was…”

  “Invincible.”

  “Yeah. I saw him die. We’d had dinner, and he was really weird. He looked like hell, and he was jumpy and he wouldn’t talk to me. I was so worried about him.” She lifted her feet up onto the chair again, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I thought maybe he’d gotten into drugs or something. It was the only thing that made sense, even though it didn’t.”

  “You were there?”

  She nodded, wishing the memory wasn’t so vivid. “The parking lot was almost empty. My car was near the restaurant, but he’d parked across the way. There weren’t even any lights near his truck. I hated leaving him like that. I told him to come stay with me, but he wouldn’t.”

  She took in a deep breath, and it was as if she could smell the scent of spices coming from the Thai restaurant. Feel the warm night air. “He hugged me goodbye, really hard. Told me he probably wouldn’t be able to see me again for a long time. But that I shouldn’t worry.”

  Boone scooted closer to her, but he didn’t touch her.

  “I got in the car, but I didn’t start it right up. I was debating if I should try harder to get him to tell me what was going on. I watched him as he walked to his truck. I gave it up then. Right as he was getting inside. I decided he wasn’t going to listen to me, so I might as well go home. I put my key in the ignition, and that’s when the sky exploded.

  “I was thrown to the passenger seat, and I hit my head. I think I was knocked out for a minute, but I’m not sure. All I know is that when I looked out of my shattered window, his truck was completely engulfed in flames. It burned so hot. The fire captain told me there had to have been an accelerant u
sed, because the inside of the cab was almost completely melted. They found enough of him, though, so that I could bury him.”

  “Jesus, Christie. I had no idea.”

  She didn’t say anything. Or even think much. Just tried to remember his face. The details, like his eyes, the way he smiled. “No one from the army came,” she said, finally. “No one. We didn’t even get a letter. Why is that?”

  “I didn’t know. Not until four months after. If I had, I would have come.”

  She shook her head. “I’m talking about the brass, Boone. His superior officers. The institution. He was the best soldier there was. I know it. He had medals. He was proud of what he did. So why weren’t they proud of him?” She turned, then, and looked into Boone’s green eyes.

  “It wasn’t the army. It was something else.”

  “What?”

  He looked at the wall, then back at her, the internal debate written all over his face. Tell her? Lie? “There are groups in the government that have specialized interests. I’m sure you’ve heard of covert ops.”

  “Spy stuff.”

  “Right. One of these groups recruited us to do some jobs. It was all politically dicey, and dangerous as hell. It didn’t go as planned.”

  “You’re telling me Nate screwed up?”

  “No. None of us screwed up. We were sent to do something that turned out to be very wrong. When we refused to do it, this group wasn’t…happy.”

  “This group. They’re who killed Nate? Who are after you?”

  He nodded. “I really don’t want to tell you any more than that.”

  She leaned over so her shoulder was pressed against his. “Thank you. It helps.”

  “Yeah. I wish I could do more.”

  “You are. You’re saving my life.”

  “You’re Nate’s sister. There was never any question.”

  She smiled, wanting so badly to kiss him. To drag him back to that awful bed and make long, slow love with him. Instead, she picked up her fork. The cheesecake was perfect.

  BOONE CHECKED THE REARVIEW mirror yet again as he turned another corner. He’d studied his Culver City map before they’d left the firing range. He didn’t take the freeway or any logical approach back to her house. No one was behind them. Christie hadn’t said much, and the closer they got to her house, the more tense she became. She didn’t want to go back, and he didn’t blame her. Unfortunately, if she wanted her life back, there wasn’t a good alternative. “You okay?” he asked.