by Ember Cole
I scrub my hands over my face. Tell myself that she’s half my age. That this is the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever done. We’re at completely different places in our lives, and I should chalk this up to some kind of midlife crisis and let her go. Let her find someone more worthy, someone better, before I do something even worse.
The thought of her going off and finding another man to do the things I’ve done to her makes me want to punch a hole through the wall. She’s mine. And fuck all if I’m not fantasizing about filling her with my come until her belly swells with my child.
The fact that I’m even thinking like this scares the ever-loving shit out of me.
I am so lost to this girl.
Lost, not just because of the sex, but because I haven’t laughed like I do with her in a long time, and sure as hell not during or after sex. I don’t let my guard down around anyone, and that girl smashed right on through the walls without even trying. That’s the kicker, too. I love putting that sparkle in her eyes. It makes me feel ten feet tall.
She’s not the party girl college coed I thought she was. The more we talk, the more I want to be around her. Kymber’s waking something inside me that I thought was dead. I want to protect her, own her, keep her as mine. I want to be the only one who gives her pleasure and pain.
It’s selfish. And so fucking wrong.
She doesn’t have a clue about who I am, the shit I’ve done, the lives my decisions have cost. I stare at her innocent face, her long, smooth limbs, and all that baby-soft skin, and thick dark tendrils of guilt slither through me. I’m going to fuck her up. I have demons that will try to steal the light from her eyes. I need to get away from her before it’s too late. If it’s not already.
And yet all I want to do is wrap myself around her and tell the rest of the world to fuck off.
Growling, I slip out of bed, grab my jeans, and stab my legs into them. I hear the bed creak, and then a hand is on my back. Her hand. I suck in a breath even as her touch calms the darkness battering my heart. It would be so easy to give in and climb back beside her, but it won’t solve the problem that I’m wrong for her. I fucking took her virginity, a girl younger than my son. I put her at risk. What kind of bastard does that?
I take a step away and hear her hand thump back to the bed.
“It’s so early. Where are you going?”
I hate the vulnerability in her voice. It makes me hate myself a little more. I keep getting dressed, ignoring her.
“If you have something you need to do, I can come with you.” She starts to get out of bed.
“No,” I say in a voice that’s too harsh. I grab my shirt and throw it on over my head. “Stay here.”
She shrinks back in confusion. This is what I mean—all I do is drive people away. I’ve seen too much. Done too much. Been responsible for too much. I refuse to let anyone in because I don’t want anyone to see that darkness. It’s why I prefer to be alone.
“Daniel?”
I sigh and drag my fingers through my hair. I need to get away from her, to clear my head and think without her scent filling my lungs, a constant reminder of how much I’ve screwed up.
I yank the door open and leave her there, sitting in the office bed, the sheets pulled up protectively over her breasts, hurt radiating from her face. The door clicks shut behind me, and there’s a real wall between us now.
Her coat is still on the floor, and images of when she first walked in, slid that damned thing off, and knelt down waiting fill my head.
Just the memory of it makes my dick jump.
She has no idea what seeing her like that did to me. I almost ripped the fucking desk apart trying to keep my hands to myself. If someone reached into my dark mind and put together my deepest fantasy, it would be this girl.
But she deserves someone without a fuck-ton of baggage. Someone who can grow old with her and who isn’t already hardened by all the shit he’s seen. Someone who deserves her.
Every cell in my body demands I go back in and take care of her, but how the hell do I protect her from myself?
I can’t get out of the office fast enough.
I take the stairs two at a time, bursting through the door on the seventh floor. My floor.
Guilt and anger swamp me almost immediately. I didn’t even take Kymber’s virginity in my apartment. She never should have had to kneel on the floor of that office, or settle for giving herself to someone in a spare room, a generic bed.
I should have given her my home, my bed.
I stalk into my apartment, hit the nearest light switch, and find myself standing in the center of my living room, fists clenched at my sides. If I’d brought her here, would she even like it? Adam’s done a lot of work to his apartment, but my place is basic. Builder-grade dark cabinets. A couple of exposed brick walls. Cream paint everywhere else. Nothing fancy, but I’d never been a fan of fancy. Growing up in a poor family and then spending my life in the military, I’ve never known, or needed, all the bells and whistles. Neither do most of the men and women who’ve served with and under me, which is why I’ve kept the building pretty basic.
Just having a place to call home, even for a few weeks or months at a time, is a big deal.
Basic or not, my place on the top floor is no tent in the desert. It’s pretty fucking huge, actually. Adam knocked down the walls between a few units, leaving me with four big bedrooms and three bathrooms that I have no idea what to do with.
Not that I spend a whole lot of time up here. All the space is hard to get used to, which is why I spend a lot of my nights in the efficiency attached to the office. We try to be accessible for any emergencies that might come up, and since I don’t really sleep a whole lot, I usually take the longer overnight shifts.
The office phone rarely rings, though. A perk of having a building half full of soldiers, current and former, used to taking care of themselves.
When we hire a full-time manager come fall, the efficiency will be theirs, so I need to get used to living in my own apartment.
The image of Kymber standing in my kitchen with nothing but one of my T-shirts on fills my head. Kymber in my shower. Kymber curled up on my couch with her schoolbooks spread out around her.
I frown at the couch. I would need something softer. Something that would cradle her gorgeous body while she studied, and then later, when I spread her legs and devoured the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.
She’d add color to the place. Life.
I drop my face into my hands. Why the fuck am I torturing myself like this? I shouldn’t be picturing her in my home. Not when I need to walk away.
Needing a distraction, I grab my phone and scroll through my contacts, looking for the one name guaranteed to remind me why I don’t deserve anything good in my life.
Major Case Reilly served under me most of his career. Despite the military’s no-fraternization policy, he’s the closest thing to a friend I’ve had in twenty years.
And look where that got him.
On our last mission, I sent Case’s unit into a hellhole we never should have been in. I told them roads into the compound were clear. My intel was wrong.
It only took ten minutes for the fucking sky to fall.
He and the team he’d gone in with barely made it out in time to avoid the ambush waiting for them, but Case’s military career was over. The bomb that went off as they fell back made sure of that.
The fucking worst of it? He was the lucky one.
Three men died that day.
I wish it had been me who had taken the hit. Even knowing why I did it—to give Adam a better life—sometimes I wished I’d never climbed the ranks to lieutenant colonel so I could’ve been on the ground that day. I’d have gladly put myself in front of a bullet or bomb if it meant sending those men back home to their wives and children, alive and whole.
They weren’t the first men I’d lost over the years—there’d been many. No, the final three combined with Case’s injuries were the kick in the ass I needed t
o go home and be the father I’d never been to Adam, even if he was grown.
I resigned my commission and left the military after that.
But I think about the men I lost every day.
Even the ones who were lucky enough to make it out alive.
My finger hovers over Case’s name.
I put my phone down.
We may be out of the military, but the chain of command isn’t something that’s easy to let go. It would be inappropriate to call him when I know damn well the only thing on my mind is Kymber. I can’t force a subordinate to listen to me bitch and moan about what an idiot I am.
I will call him, though. To check on him. Just not today.
I’ve been alone most of my life, but it strikes me right now just how alone I really am. In a building that houses my son and more than a dozen men and women who served under me, I have no one I feel safe opening up to.
No one except Kymber.
She’s the first. The only.
What if there’s a reason for that?
My mind races at the thought. Kymber’s the first person to see me as just me, not a superior, not a father, just…a man. I’ve been alone for so long, the idea of letting anyone else in felt wrong. So I shut myself off.
Until she appeared.
In less than two days, Kymber’s made me crave her company. Crave her. I might loathe myself for it, but I want to be around her light. My shadows fade next to her. Maybe it doesn’t have to be me bringing her down. Maybe she’ll help lift me out of the darkness.
I’ve been so wrapped around the wrong axle, so afraid of fucking it all up again, I never gave Kymber a chance. And why? Because she’s so young? Because I feel like a sick bastard for wanting to make her mine?
I’ve been in denial for so long, I couldn’t see that I have it all right in front of me.
What if she’s who I’ve been waiting for?
Shit. What if she’s the one?
I shove back my chair so hard it scrapes across the tile. I’ve got to find her, talk to her, apologize for having my head in my ass. I’ve had contingency plans for every fucking mission we’ve run, but in life, I’ve been flying blind. I’ve let myself be content being alone, but it’s not working anymore. Not when I’ve had a taste of what’s possible.
I fly out of my apartment and down the stairs. Who the fuck knows if I even closed my door. I can’t get back to the office fast enough. I’m a fucking idiot. How many times in the past two days have I told her how fucking perfect she is? I just didn’t realize what I was saying.
That she’s perfect for me.
Everything about her does it for me. She’s sexy as fuck, but it’s more than that. She makes me laugh. I can’t remember the last time someone made me feel good enough to laugh. She’s sassy and intelligent, and when I talk to her, she listens. Not because she has to. Because she wants to.
And I want to listen to her, too.
I can imagine wrapping around her and falling asleep every single night. Letting her chase the nightmares away. Fighting off any that haunt her. When I’m not with Kymber, all I can think about is getting back to her.
I’m not active duty anymore. I’d never tried to pursue someone while I was active duty. There’s just too much baggage to sort through. But I don’t have to put someone through the hell of waiting anymore, of not knowing. Of all the anger that comes with war.
I’m free to be with her.
Why did I leave her alone? I took her virginity in the fucking office—I may never get over that—and then practically ran out the door. I want to punch myself for being such a coward. I was a damn Special Forces officer. Shit isn’t supposed to scare me. Kymber fucking terrifies me, but she could be the best thing in my life if I let myself have her.
If it’s not too late.
By the time I open the office door, my heart is pounding like a fucking freight train. I step into the back room and stop like I’ve been sucker punched in the gut. She’s not in the bed.
The covers are a tangled mess from earlier, but her warm body is missing. I check the bathroom, and she’s not there, either. Fuck.
She’s gone. Of course she is, after the way I left her earlier.
My gaze moves to where my belt is still wrapped around the headboard.
Kymber is seared into my brain. The way she looks spread out under me, the way she feels when she explodes on my cock, the way her face lights up when she smiles, or that soft expression on her face when she’s exhausted and reaching for me. We’re just getting started. I’m not ready to give that up.
Fuck, I’m not ready to give her up.
She’s mine.
I’m just going to have to figure out what the hell we have in common, and if there’s nothing, then I’ll just keep her tied to my bed. I know we’re made for each other there.
I grab the master key and slam out of the office.
The building is quiet. I decide to take the elevator so I’m not breathing like a marathon runner once I get to her, and it takes fucking forever to get to the fourth floor. I have no idea what I’m going to say, except to apologize for leaving her. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking. My brave girl put herself out there, and being the bastard that I am, I ran.
I practically sprint to her apartment.
A date. I’ll take her on a date so she’ll see that I’m serious about trying. Shit, I’ll need to ask Adam what the hell people their age do. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken a woman out.
I knock on her door and wait.
If she’s crying, I’ll kick my own ass.
I knock again, but there’s no movement. She’s probably curled up in her bed, regretting ever setting foot in my office. Or maybe even the building. The knot in my stomach grows harder.
After a few more long, silent moments, I use the master key and open the door. The living room is dim when I step inside. I stop and listen. Somewhere in the apartment a shower is running. I watched her roommate leave with a guy last night before Kymber showed up, and I hope against hope he’s still keeping her occupied so I can do whatever it takes to convince Kymber to give me a chance.
Hope. I haven’t felt that in…a long damn time.
I stalk down the hall and stop in front of the bathroom door.
If there’s one thing being Delta Force taught me, it’s stealth. I open the door without a sound, and a wash of hot, moist air swirls out. It carries the same scent I inhaled all night and despite my good intentions, my dick starts to get hard.
I hear a noise, the sound of rough breathing, and my heart sinks. Fuck, she is crying. I slip into the room and close the door behind me. When I turn, I freeze.
Through the glass shower door I see her.
All my good intentions fly right out the damned window.
She’s not crying.
Not even close.
She’s moving her hand between her legs, and her forehead is resting on the shower wall. This girl is so fucking beautiful, I can’t stop staring. All the blood in my body rushes to my cock when I hear her moan softly.
I answer with a groan of my own, and her head snaps up. A startled shriek fills the small space, and she presses her hand against her chest. She opens the shower door and peeks around it. When her eyes meet mine, she sucks in a deep breath.
“Holy fuck, you scared me, Daniel. I was just…” Her face turns bright red.
I take a step closer. “Don’t stop.”
Her eyes get wider. “What?”
Another step brings me to the door, and I swing it wide open so I can see all of her. “Keep playing with yourself while I watch. I want you to get yourself off, babygirl. Show me what you like.”
Her nipples harden. With her eyes still on me, she takes a step back and leans against the shower wall. Her hand slides down her stomach, between her legs. She widens her stance, and then I can see her fingers moving back and forth. I step closer, right into the shower with all my clothes on, because I want to be near her.
“I
let the shit in my head get the best of me. I acted like an asshole.”
I can see the hurt in her eyes, even as she continues to play with herself. Water soaks through my shirt and jeans, but I don’t care. I cradle her face between my hands and kiss her lips softly.
“I’m so sorry.”
Shadows cross her face. “I thought I upset you. I was worried I pushed you too hard or that maybe I made assumptions about what happened between us…”
I crush my lips to hers, swallowing words I don’t want to hear from her mouth. When I slide my tongue inside, she opens for me. I can feel her hand moving between us, and mine joins in. She circles her clit faster while I slide two fingers inside her wet heat.
“Oh God.”
I love listening to her breathy little groans.
She clenches around my fingers, gripping them tighter.
“You scare the absolute fuck out of me. How you make me feel…” I say against her lips. Our foreheads touch, breath mingling as she gets closer. “When my marriage fell apart, I put that part of my life behind me. I’m not an easy person to know. My life has been too hard for me to let anyone in, so I don’t. I was good at leading my men, at making life-threatening decisions, but the normal stuff? I fuck that all up. I don’t want to do that to you. You have no idea how fucking perfect you are for me, but I’ll end up ruining you. I never want to hurt you.”
I kiss her softly, because I haven’t been this honest with anyone in a very long time. I stroke in and out of her folds, and I know this is where I need to be. It doesn’t make it any less scary admitting it, though.
I take a breath and look into her eyes. “I don’t want you to end up hating me for not being what you need. I couldn’t take that.”
She tilts her head to see me better and lust clouds her eyes, but there is something else there, too. Something that scares and exhilarates me at the same time. Like a mission, only this one feels like the most important one of my life.
“You, the you that you are right now, is more than enough, Daniel,” she says. “I’ve never felt like this before. The moment I saw you, something clicked and it’s like…you’re where I belong. I can’t explain it. I just know I want to be with you, and I’m willing to take the chance because you’re worth it.”
