TooHottoTouch

by Samantha Cayto

  Unless he had changed his mind about being with her, she wasn’t going to let him go. She loved him. The truth of it was so plain to her now, she felt stupid when she thought of how she had tried to push him away. So she wasn’t likely to give birth again, didn’t even want to try. He said he didn’t care about having kids. She would accept he knew his own mind for now and if he ever changed it, they’d try to find a solution together. In the meantime, she’d take the joy of having him.

  She pulled into her driveway and turned off the car. Sean didn’t move a muscle and that worried her. Grabbing her purse, she hopped out and went around to his side, thinking she might have to open the door for him. He surprised her by doing it himself and getting out. When he didn’t head for the door, she took his hand in hers and led him up the front stoop. He twined his fingers with hers in a sure grip. It let her know he was not buried deep inside his head and that was a relief. When they stepped inside her apartment, she nudged him toward the couch and went into the kitchen.

  She brought him some iced tea and sat beside him with her own glass. Sipping at her drink, she watched him down the whole of his with one long gulp. His throat was stretched taut with the effort and she tamped down the urge to latch her lips on to it. It would be too easy for them to smother their feelings in sex. Before giving in to her desire, she had to see if she could get Sean to talk. She had no doubt he needed to. Wrestling with Diego’s ex had to have resonated with Sean’s combat experience. His shaking body in the immediate aftermath had testified to it.

  Sean put his empty glass down on her coffee table and looked at her for the first time since they had left the diner. “Thanks, I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.” Zoë held out her half-full drink as an offering, but he shook his head and looked down at his hands clasped between his knees. “If you asked me back here because you’re worried I’ll do something stupid, you needn’t. Worry,” he clarified. “I’m okay. I can catch a cab to my folks’.”

  Putting her glass down, she slid closer to him and put her own hand on top of his. She waited until he looked at her before saying, “I brought you back here because I love you and I didn’t want to spend another night without you.”

  The muscles in his throat worked furiously as he swallowed several times. “You don’t have to say that,” he replied in a hoarse voice.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “What, do you think I said that because I feel sorry for you, to be nice to you?” She ran fingers through his hair and shook her head. “Telling you I love you is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. I don’t want to give you up even though my head tells me I should for your sake.”

  Now his head shook. “No, please. I love you too, Zoë. Being with you is exactly what I want.”

  Leaning in, she kissed him lightly on the lips. When he tried to pull her in for another, she resisted. “Hold on,” she chided gently. “I think we should talk about what happened before we jump into bed.”

  His expression closed off again and he broke eye contact. “What’s there to talk about?”

  She lifted her hand and shifted so she faced him, her arm over the back of the couch, one leg bent between them. She wanted to give him space in order to hopefully speak honestly about how he felt. “I want to know how you’re feeling. You were pretty shaken after your struggle with Diego’s ex and I figure it must have triggered your PTSD.”

  He shrugged. “Lots of things trigger it, less now than a year ago.” Glancing at her, he added, “You helped, you know. Being there for me, holding me, you helped me push back the panic attack that was coming on. Thanks for that.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for being there for you. I’m glad I helped, but I think it would be better for you if you talk about what’s going on inside your head. You’ve been awfully quiet and I’m worried about how you hold everything inside. It’s just going to come out in a nightmare.”

  He shuddered and nodded. “You’re right.” He stood up. “I shouldn’t be with you tonight. I’ll probably have a rough night and I don’t want to take the risk of hurting you.”

  She groaned in frustration. “Sit down, Sean. Sit!” He hesitated a few seconds before doing as she said. “I didn’t bring up the nightmares because I’m worried about me. I said it because I’m worried about you. Talk to me, Sean. Tell me what terrorizes you in your sleep. Please,” she added in a soft voice because if he didn’t open up to her, let her in, she wasn’t sure they had much of a future together.

  He shook his head and took a deep, shuddering breath before he began to speak. “Okay. I don’t want to talk to you about all this crap lurking in the back of my head, but I want you and I trust you to know what’s best, so…” He cleared his throat. “A lot of the time I just relive bits and pieces of my tours. Dust, heat, smells, the sight of bombed-out buildings, bodies. It’s weird and sickening how you can get used to something like seeing dead kids. The insurgents are everywhere. They hide behind buildings, on top of buildings, inside buildings, inside their own fucking families.

  “It didn’t take long before I really dreaded raids we conducted on houses, especially at night when everyone was home. We’d get intel that so-and-so was at some house and we’d go after them, but we knew there’d be innocent people too. Women, kids—babies, for Christ’s sake—were often between us and the guys we needed to get. My worst fear was killing somebody innocent in one of those raids.”

  When he fell silent, his gaze focused on the floor, she prodded him. “Did you?” she asked as gently as she could, letting him know she wasn’t going to judge what he’d been forced to do in circumstances she couldn’t even imagine.

  “No. But there was this one night, the worst night, the night I can’t get out of my head and out of my dreams.” He grabbed her neglected drink and gulped it down before continuing. “We were after some guy. I don’t know what he had done exactly. Word was he was dangerous and living in this big family compound. They do that a lot, you know, live in extended families.” He shot her a quick grin. “Kind of like you Greeks.”

  She grinned back and nodded, getting what he meant. After a few seconds, he picked up with his story. “Anyway, we went in at night, kicking in doors, the translators barking for everyone to get out, hands in the air. No one popped out right away, so we moved farther into the house, checking rooms. I pushed open a door, calling out that I was a U.S. soldier. I picked up some of the language, you have to, so I know I announced myself properly. It was a bedroom and the first thing I see is a guy with a gun pointed at me.

  “I didn’t hesitate, Zoë, you can’t or you die. I fired and he went down. There was a woman in the room too, his wife. She shrieks and screams at me, saying things I can’t understand, but I know what she means. I just killed her husband and bad guy or not, she hates me for it. It’s not enough for her though, to yell at me. Before I realize it, she lunges for her dead husband’s gun and points it at me.”

  His breath hitched and he stopped speaking, his eyes blinking furiously as if holding back tears. She slid over and put her arms around him. She could feel the fine tremors in his body. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  His hand clasped her arm and he squeezed once before continuing. “I yelled at her as she fumbled with the gun. I told her to drop it. I begged her to drop it and she wouldn’t. I had to take her out too.” His voice quavered. “I can still hear the sound of her scream as the rounds hit her.”

  She tightened her grip as his body began to tremble in earnest. “You had to do it. She wasn’t an innocent when she picked up that gun. You know that, right?”

  He nodded and barked out a rueful laugh. “Yeah, I know. I do know, but that wasn’t the end of it. There was more screaming and crying and behind me there were four kids. They’re standing in the doorway staring at their dead parents and they’re wailing away as if they were being tortured. And I guess when someone kills your mom and dad, you are. The oldest was a boy of maybe ten and I saw him eyeing the gun that had slipped out of his mother’s hands.
He looks up at me and I know, I just know he’s going to make a play for it.”

  He was rocking now in her embrace, tears leaking out of his eyes. “Jesus, I couldn’t believe it. I was going to have to kill that kid if he reached the weapon. I yelled at him and lunged, pushing him down. He hit the others and they all went down like ten pins which just made them cry and scream all the louder. But I managed to kick the gun away from them and my guys finally arrived to back me up. They hustled the kids away to another room and to some family members.”

  He swiped at the tears. “Anyway, the guy I killed was the guy we were after. He was a bad guy and I can’t feel sorry about killing him. Maybe his wife was a bad guy too. Who knows? She probably had no choice about marrying him and when someone bursts into your bedroom and kills your husband, maybe you just react. All I do know for sure is that in a few years, that little boy is probably going to be just like his father. If he wasn’t going to grow up to be a terrorist before, seeing me kill his parents for sure tipped him into that camp.”

  “You can’t hold yourself responsible for that. His father bears the blame for all of it. You had every right to defend yourself. I’m not going to get into the politics of whether you should have been in that position to begin with, but once you were, you did the right thing.”

  Clasping his face with her hands, she turned it to her. “Look at me,” she ordered. His eyes swam in unshed tears as he obeyed. “You are a good man, Sean. You are not a killer.”

  His mouth opened and if he intended to say something, it was drowned out by a choked sob. The tears came in earnest and, leaning into her, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as the damn burst within him.

  * * * * *

  Sean forced his eyes open. They were gritty from crying and he blinked against the light of the room. He lay on the couch, Zoë on top of him in an awkward embrace. They had both kind of just passed out with exhaustion after his crying jag. He grimaced at the memory because what guy didn’t relish weeping all over his girlfriend? Christ, he’d be lucky if she ever wanted to fuck him again after his little boy lost routine. Except, shit, maybe she didn’t see it as the monumental embarrassment he did. She had pushed him into sharing the horror rattling around in his brain, so she shouldn’t be surprised it left him soaking her blouse with his tears. Besides, didn’t women profess to like it when men showed their sensitive side?

  Crap!

  With his eyes half-opened, he squinted at the clock on the wall and saw they’d been sleeping for almost two hours. Even though they didn’t have the early shift, it would be better for both of them to move to the greater comfort of the bed. He hated to wake Zoë though. Maybe if he was gentle enough, he could carry her into it without waking her. He realized the foolishness of the hope when her eyes flew open at the first muscle he moved.

  “What’s up?” she asked, eyes blinking as if she were an owl.

  “I was trying to move us to the bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She smiled and pushed herself up to a kneeling position between his legs. “How do you feel?” The soft concern in her voice nearly had him crying again.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Kind of stupid for bawling all over you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You needed the release and I’m glad you trusted me enough to share it with me.”

  He picked her hand up and ran his thumb across her knuckles. “You insisted and I want to make you happy.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Besides, I do feel better. It helped to get it out.” He paused, afraid to say what continued to weigh on his mind yet desperate to ask the question anyway. “Does it change the way you feel about me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I meant it when I said you’re a good man, Sean.”

  “Yeah, but are you afraid of me?”

  “I keep telling you I’m not. Why don’t you believe me?”

  He kept his gaze on his thumb running across her knuckles. It was easier than looking her in the eye. “Tonight at the diner, when it was all over. Before I started to freak out and you hugged me, I tried to go to you, but you stepped away from me. I figured you were afraid since you saw me take that asshole down pretty viciously.”

  “Thank God,” she replied with enough heat in her voice he looked up at her. “I’m glad you broke his arm, especially now that I know Diego didn’t break his falling down a flight of stairs.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her vehemence. “Bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Damn right. We Greeks take our revenge very seriously.” Cupping his cheek, she continued. “I backed away because I was so upset, I was afraid I’d break down if I touched you. When I saw you lunge toward that lunatic, toward his gun, I thought my heart would stop. I was scared out of my mind you’d be hurt or killed. I just needed a few seconds to pull myself together. Do you understand?”

  “I guess.” He hated that his voice sounded so uncertain but he couldn’t help it. He still worried she was afraid of him or would be sometime soon if his nightmares kept up.

  “Argh!” She launched herself off the couch and stalked off to her bedroom. “Come on,” she ordered and after a moment’s hesitation, he rushed to obey.

  He stood leaning against the doorjamb and watched as she yanked open drawers and rummaged through what looked like frothy, silky things. Underwear of various sorts, he realized and his cock twitched in his pants. Apparently it was feeling refreshed enough that it wanted to play. Given Zoë’s irritated jerks and low mutterings in what had to be Greek, he didn’t hold out much hope she’d be inclined.

  “Hah!” she cried out in triumph as she pulled out a couple of long, colorful scarves. Turning, she pinned him with a hungry stare and beckoned with a crook of her finger. He was helpless in the face of her summons and approached her with mounting anticipation. His now fully engorged rod led the way. When he was a foot away, she flicked the scarves around his neck and yanked him up against her body. She pulled his face to hers and devoured his mouth. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her, instead letting her set the pace. She seemed to want to be in control and if that made her feel safe with him, then he was on board with that plan. He had a pretty good idea how she intended to use the colorful strips of cloth digging into his neck and thought fleetingly of how tying him to the bed for the night might be the perfect solution to everything.

  He was so wrong.

  She broke off the kiss and, putting her lips to his ear, whispered, “Strip me down and tie me up.”

  Holy fuck! His cock pulsed and strained for release and his heart sped up at her words. For a few seconds, he couldn’t form a reply. “What?” he finally pushed through his lips.

  “You heard me.” She nipped at his lobe and let go of the scarves. Stepping back a pace, she held her arms out in invitation as if she were a virgin sacrifice for some ancient Greek oracle.

  “Zoë,” he growled because it was too crazy an idea and too fucking hot.

  “I’m serious, Sean. I want to put my body in your hands. I trust you completely.” She gave him a sly grin. “I like it when you take charge of me in bed.” Her fingers reached up to the buttons of her blouse.

  “Stop,” he ordered. When she frowned, he added, “Let me.” Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath as she did as he commanded. Sean approached her on less-than-sturdy legs. The idea of dominating her sent an extra thrill through his already aroused body. He had to do it right though. He had to take it nice and slow. She deserved to be pampered. She deserved to be worshipped.

  His fingers shook slightly when he raised them to her chest. He forced them to steady so that he could work the tiny buttons free from their holes. Zoë’s warm breath tickled his chin and heat radiated off her body. Her nipples jutted out from the soft cloth around them. She was clearly aroused and knowing he had that effect on her increased his own arousal. When he was finished with his task, he slipped the blouse off her shoulders and let it drift down
to the floor. He stood staring at the wispy white bra barely covering her luscious breasts.

  He slipped a forefinger past the lacy bit along the swell of her right breast and brushed it down the silky flesh. She sighed and he saw her eyes were closed. Her lovely mouth was pursed in a little moue of pleasure. With his left hand, he flicked the clasp around her back and watched the bra pop away from her body. He wasted no time ridding her of it and claiming her breasts with his palms. She groaned and swayed a bit as he kneaded the soft globes and flicked the nipples with his thumbs. A surprised gasp erupted past her lips when he pinched the hard nubs. He leaned down to take one between his lips and her gasp morphed into a low moan.

  He took his time, feasting on first one nipple and then the other. Zoë swayed into his hold and, given the sounds she made, he had no doubt he was driving her wild. When she tried to grasp his shoulders, however, he jerked up and grabbed her wrists in a loose but firm hold.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered as he tucked her arms behind her. “Lace your fingers together and keep your hands behind your back no matter what. Understand?”

  Her eyes were closed and her pretty lips were parted as if waiting to take his cock inside. She nodded once. “Yes sir,” she added in a whispery tone.

  Fuck, yeah, that bit of submissiveness had his cock howling for release. Damn woman was goading him into action. Well too bad. He was in charge and he wanted this to last. He intended to take his time to worship her body and give her more pleasure than he ever had before.

  Clasping his hands beneath the swell of her breasts, he traced a trail with his thumbs down her slightly rounded stomach. When he reached the waist of her pants, he flicked the snap open and lowered the zipper. He curled his fingers around the tops of the pants and the scanty panties, sliding them together past her thighs. As he knelt to remove her shoes and clothes, he couldn’t resist planting kisses along the inner thigh of each leg. They trembled slightly against his lips. When she was completely nude, he stayed on one bended knee and simply took his fill of her.