“Okay.” She pulls away slowly, her fingers sliding over my obliques, and fuck. My cock feels like it’s about to explode, and I’m suddenly worried about coming in my briefs like a goddamned teenager.
Brushing my teeth helps calm me down, as does reciting all the information I memorized on Oliver Russell. Date of birth, address, phone number, credit card pin…over and over again. By the time I’ve locked door to the suite and wedged a chair underneath the handle, I’m almost calm. Well, my dick is almost calm. My heart is hammering against my chest so hard I’m worried I’m going to crack a rib.
Snagging my own briefcase from the desk in the main room, I dig into one of the pockets. There. If I’m wrong about this…about how she feels…I might never risk myself like this again, but saying a silent prayer, I tuck three of the condoms into the pocket of my pants.
The bedroom smells like her already. Freesia and fresh rain. The door locks with a thunk.
“What side of the bed?” Evianna asks. “Last night…you just—”
“For tonight? Closest to the door.” I realize my mistake as her breath stutters. “We’ll be fine, darlin’. It’s…training more than anything. Always be prepared and all that shit.” Feeling my way over to the bed, I pull back the sheet and blankets, and slide in next to her.
“Isn’t that like…the Boy Scouts’ motto? You were a Boy Scout?”
My laugh sounds more like a choked cough—that’s what happens when you don’t find much use for the sound for a few years. “Nope. I was…not the greatest kid. Ran with a bad crowd in middle school. My dad lost his job when I was seven, and we moved to a pretty dangerous housing tract outside of Charleston. I was damn lucky I was a fast runner. Otherwise, I probably would have landed in juvie before high school.”
“I…no. That’s not you.” Under the blankets, she reaches for my hand, her fingers cool.
“Not anymore. Saw a friend—well, a kid I thought was my friend—steal from a little corner store when I was eleven. The little old woman who was at the register tried to stop him, and he pushed her hard enough, she hit her head.” I rub the back of my neck as the memories of that day play like a movie—the only kind of movie I can still see. “I wanted to help her, but he told me I was stupid and left me there. I ran too, but I called 911 from a pay phone a few blocks away. When my dad found out, he beat my ass for ‘being such a little shit.’ Not too soon after that, he drank himself to death. But that ass whopping scared me straight.”
“What happened to her?” Evianna asks, though the hesitation in her voice tells me she’s scared of the answer.
“She was fine. Lots of blood, but I went by the store a week or so later, and she was back behind the counter.” Bringing our joined hands to my lips, I brush a kiss to her knuckles. “I’ve never told anyone that story. Not even Ry.”
Evianna slides closer, and her free hand cups my cheek. “Take these off,” she says as she traces the frame of my glasses. “The light in here isn’t too much, is it?”
A hard swallow, and I force out a “no” and set my glasses on the nightstand.
The pad of her thumb traces the scars from whatever chemical they poured into my eyes. Her breath tickles my cheek, and then her lips are on mine.
Kissing her…it’s like coming home. To a home I never knew I wanted or needed. Hesitant at first, she waits for me to take control, and I do, threading my fingers through her silky locks and angling her head for better access. Tracing the seam of her lips, I wait for her to open for me.
When she does, I let my tongue tangle with hers in bold, sweeping strokes, and the purr low in her throat tells me I haven’t completely forgotten how to kiss a woman.
The first hints of her arousal scent the air, so sweet, I ache to taste her. But when she grasps the bottom of my t-shirt, my entire body tenses, and I pull back, panic dredging up all the ways I’ve played this scenario out in my head. And all the ways it could end—very badly.
“Turn off the light?” I wheeze.
“No.” Evianna straddles me, and fuck, she feels so good with her sex pressed against my cock. “Not unless it’s hurting your eyes.”
I can’t lie to her. Hell, that’s the first thing they drill into you in Special Forces training. You do not lie to your team. Ever. And Evianna is absolutely my team. “You don’t want to see me.”
“Can you read minds?” she asks with a little huff. “Because I’m pretty sure as observant as you are, that’s not one of your many talents. So you have no idea what I do and don’t want to see.” Wriggling her hips slightly, she chuckles, the low throaty sound making me even harder. “Well, okay. Maybe you know a little bit about what I want. But if you think for one minute you need to hide from me, then maybe…maybe…we shouldn’t…”
The strain in her voice breaks me, and I strip off my shirt in one fluid move. Then, hold my breath.
She’s not saying anything. Why isn’t she saying anything?
I’m about to reach for my discarded shirt when her lips press to one of the deeper, thicker scars across my right shoulder. Her fingers trace an uneven line of raised flesh, badly healed, along my side. “One day, I want you to tell me about some of these. If you can,” she whispers just before her teeth graze my ear lobe.
“I remember…every one of them.” Desperate to feel her, to have her chase away the ghosts that have haunted me every day for more than six years, I fumble for her waist, finding her curves wrapped in cotton. “What…are you wearing?”
“Tank top. Sleep shorts,” she says, a hint of confusion in her tone. “Why?”
“Just because I’m blind, doesn’t mean I can’t imagine.” Molding my palms to her sides, I slide my hands up close to her breasts and skim my thumbs over the hard points of her nipples.
“I need to feel you, darlin’. Can I…?” Tugging at her tank top, I hold my breath until she raises her arms. Her scent envelopes me as I peel off the tight material, and in the hazy blur before me, an expanse of cream—until she wraps her arms around herself tightly.
“Dax,” she whispers. “I haven’t done this in a long time…”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No…I’m just…scared. I don’t understand how I can feel this much…”
Starting at her shoulders, I skim my hands down to her wrists and gently unwind her arms. “Maybe we don’t need to understand it. Maybe…we just feel.” Easing her down onto the pillows, I brush her hair away from her face. I can’t get enough of her taste, and I start with gentle kisses to the corner of her lips.
Her skin is so soft, and her nipples scrape against my chest as I angle my body over hers. When she smoothes her hands down my back, I tense as she feels the hundreds of scars cross-crossing my shoulders, but her hips shift under me, and she keens softly.
The curve of her jaw tastes like rain, and the smell of freesia is concentrated behind her ear. I nuzzle the tender skin, biting down until she whimpers and shudders. “Dax…”
The single word carries so much emotion, I can’t answer her. Instead, I kiss my way down her collarbone to her breasts. Her nipple rises up to meet my lips, teeth, and tongue, and my God, if she keeps whimpering, I’m going to lose control. But I want this to last.
Her stomach quivers as I continue my trek south, and when I reach the waistband of her sleep shorts, she tenses. “Trust me, darlin’.”
“Uh huh.” The thin fabric slides down her hips, and I bury my nose in lace.
“Fuck, Evianna. I need to taste you.” Her panties rip under my fingers, and then she’s bared to me, curls tickling my cheek as I press gentle kisses to the inside of her thighs.
This…I never thought… I wish I could see her face. See her eyes go hooded and dark before her release, but without the visual, I can simply feel. Taste. Listen. Swiping my tongue gently through her folds, it’s all honey and slick heat.
She’s so wet, so ready, but I can’t get enough. She’s going to come more than once tonight if I have anything to say about it. My fingers
dig into the soft flesh of her hips, and as I continue to torment her little bundle of nerves, her thighs start to tremble.
“Dax! Oh God. Right there!” With one last flutter of my tongue, I score my teeth over her clit, sucking gently, and she flies apart, her hips undulating, her heels driving into the mattress as she claws at the sheets above my shoulders.
Every pulse of her release sends more of her arousal flooding me, and I drink her in until she’s panting, unintelligible whimpers tumbling from her lips.
“Easy now, darlin’. I’ve got you.” Crawling up her body, I gather her into my arms, and she buries her face against my neck. “Hold onto me.”
“Don’t let go. Don’t ever let go,” she whispers, and by God, I want to promise I won’t. Ever.
“Kiss me.”
Evianna tips her head up, her hair cascading over her shoulders. And for a second, I can almost imagine her smile as she whispers, “Only if I get to take those pants off you.”
Lying back, I try not to tense as she flicks open the button at my waist. “Trust me, Dax.”
With a nod, I blow out a breath. “My leg’s…”
When she tosses the pants to the bottom of the bed, she makes a soft, “oh” sound, and then her fingers trail from my briefs down my thigh. “Later. You’ll tell me that story later.”
“Later. Kiss me.” I can still taste her, and when she straddles me, a smile curves the lips that press to mine. Her tongue sweeps into my mouth, like I’m water after a year in the desert, and my dick strains against my briefs, so close to where I want to be. “Pants,” I half-growl as I push myself up, one hand at the small of her back, the other fumbling for my discarded pants.
“Dax?”
“Protection.” The foil packets crinkle in my grip, and I toss them onto the pillow as I roll her over. Kneeling between her spread thighs, I yank my briefs down, freeing my cock. I’m so hard, my balls are already tight, and when she wraps her fingers around my shaft, I groan. Numbers. Baseball stats. Anything. Just let me last long enough to make her come again.
“Evianna…fuck. I…it’s been too long.”
“We have all night,” she says as her thumb brushes the tip, the drop of pre-cum, and then makes a lazy circle all around the crown.
In the dim light from the bedside lamps, I can almost make out the shadow of her arm, and I’m not ready for just how fucking hot it is when I hear her suck on her thumb, hear the pop as she releases it, and then taste us, together, when she kisses me.
“Inside me, Dax. I need you.” The foil packet tears, and her deft fingers roll the condom over my length.
She’s so fucking tight, and slide home an inch at a time, letting her get used to me, while I plunder her mouth, pinch her nipples, and tell her just how perfect she is. Until she wraps her legs around me and urges me deep.
“Fuck. Oh God, Evianna. I won’t last.” With a groan, I lose myself to another deep, languid kiss and start to move inside her. Each stroke sends me closer, and every muscle in my body begs for release.
Reaching down between us, I swipe my fingers through her slick folds, and when I pinch her clit, she screams my name, and I can’t hold on. My hips thrust faster, harder, and as her inner walls pulse around me, what’s left of my vision goes white, my heartbeat roars in my ears, and I finally let go.
Evianna
My muscles feel like Jell-O. I’m not sure I can do much more than lie here. But…why would I want to do anything else? Dax is wrapped around me, one arm under his head, the other snaked around my stomach, holding me close under the luxurious sheet and fluffy duvet. One of his legs is draped over mine.
His warm steady breathing tickles my shoulder blade, and I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. But as if he can read my mind, he stirs and presses a kiss to my neck. “You all right, darlin’?”
My laugh sounds strange, my throat a little raw. “I don’t know.”
As if someone lit a fire under the mattress, Dax sits up, patting the bed until he finds his shirt. “I’m…sorry. I should get dressed. Check in with Wren—”
“Dax. Stop.” Curling my fingers around the black cotton in his hands, I still his jerky movements. “What are you apologizing for? That was the best sex of my life. You’re…amazing.”
His ruddy skin flushes a deeper shade, making the pale scars on his chest, cheeks, and around his eyes stand out, and I reach for him, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him down next to me. Tangling our legs, I let my gaze trail slowly over his body, trying to memorize every muscle, every scar.
“What are you doing?” he asks, uncertainty roughening his tone.
“Admiring the very naked man in bed with me.” Despite my lack of muscle control, the idea of a second round—and maybe a third—makes my heart beat a little faster.
Dax tries to pull the duvet higher, but I stop him. “For a Green Beret, you have some serious confidence issues, soldier. You’re…built. Like seriously.” Trailing my fingers over his eight pack, I follow one of the deep v lines down his hip to his leg. “Tell me about this?” I ask as I find the two inch long divot in his thigh.
“Not a good story,” he grits out, and his body tenses, but I squeeze just below the scar, and he sighs heavily.
“For the first six months, the asshole in charge of Hell worked us over every couple of days. Thought he could still break us. Used us all against one another.” He shudders, and I reach up to cup his cheek, but he stops me, links our fingers, and rolls over, tugging me with him so I’m pressed to his back. “His name was Kahlid. Not long after we were captured, Hab…he was already half-dead. Sepsis. He didn’t have long. Maybe a few days left. So Kahlid used him to try to make us talk. Tortured him in front of us. When that didn’t work, he slit Hab’s throat as we watched. Gagged and cuffed to the wall.”
“Oh shit.” I can’t manage more than a whisper, and Dax swears under his breath.
“Don’t ask me the rest, darlin’.”
“You don’t have to protect me from your past, Dax. I want to know.” Pressing my lips to his shoulder, I try to offer him whatever strength I have.
“Somewhere around month eight, Kahlid realized we were never going to break. But he couldn’t just let us go. Or even work a prisoner exchange. He’d tortured us too much. The military would have shot him dead the second they saw the shape we were in. So he got mean.”
“Slitting Hab’s throat in front of you wasn’t mean?”
A rough laugh escapes, and he shudders. “Not to him. Insane fucker.” After a pause, he rubs his leg. “We were malnourished. And the shit they fed us…? Intestinal parasites. The whole damn time. A few weeks before we’d planned to escape, Kahlid broke my leg with a metal pipe.”
Squeezing his hand, I say nothing, afraid he’ll shut down.
“Then…he took a blowtorch to my skin. Doesn’t take much for a wound to get infected in those conditions. Ry set the bone, but I was in bad shape. It’s…why I couldn’t escape with him. Why I was still there for…” He brings my hand to his lips and sighs. “Damn thing never healed right. Doctors said I was maybe a week away from losing the leg completely.”
As if a dam has opened, one he can’t stop, Dax’s words pour our now, faster and fainter. “I wonder every day…why I lived. Ryker…he protected me whenever he could. But he couldn’t stop them from killing Ripper or Hab or Gose. Ripper was…the worst. One day, he just disappeared. Kahlid never told us what happened to him. We’d ask, and he’d just laugh. For five months before the end, we wondered. Didn’t find out what happened to him until I talked to Ry the other day. One of Kahlid’s men threw him into the hole and he broke his neck.”
He swipes at his eyes and continues. “I remember every scar, Evianna. Ryker…he has this insane memory. And he taught me all the tricks. I…don’t forget. Anything. I can’t.”
I wish I could comfort him. Take away even a fraction of his pain. Instead, all I’m doing is causing more. Doubt creeps in, and I roll onto my back. Now, it’s my turn to hide. To pul
l away. To try to protect him from the chaos of my life. He deserves…more. Safety. Security. Peace.
“Darlin’?” Perceptive as ever, even after all he’s confessed, Dax turns over. “Knowing what I do, remembering every minute trapped in that shithole, losing my best friend—my brother—for six years afterwards, fuck, even not being able to see… This is who I am. I’ll never forget a damn thing. But I’ll share it. All of it. Any of it. With you.”
Thankful he can’t see the tears shimmering in my eyes, I prop myself up on an elbow and claim his mouth in a searing kiss. I need him. All of him. He’s the only guide I have through the chaos, and now…after tonight…he’s the only one I want.
23
Evianna
The entire bed shakes, and sheets rustle. My sleep-addled brain doesn’t process what’s going on until a low, mournful groan comes from behind me. Then, I’m instantly awake and sitting up.
Flipping on the light, I stifle my gasp. Dax is curled into a ball, his arms around his knees, shuddering with each breath. A violent flinch accompanies his whimper, and a word that sounds almost like “please” escapes through clenched teeth.
“Dax?” I don’t want to touch him. If he’s trapped in some sort of nightmare, he may not know where he is when he wakes up. But I can’t let him continue to hurt. “Dax, wake up.”
He flinches again, hisses a breath, and tightens his arms.
Trying for my best “army whatever” voice, I bark out orders. “Dax. Wake up. Now!”
His eyes fly open, but in the next instant, he scrubs his hands over his face. Over and over again. Blinking between each attempt. “Can’t…see…”
“Dax! Daxton? Daxwell?” I don’t know his given name. But at this point, I’ll try anything to get him back. “Officer Holloway!”
“Sergeant,” he whispers as his frantic movements still.
Easing myself down, I risk wrapping my arms around him. “Sergeant?”
Second Sight: An Away From Keyboard Romantic Suspense Standalone Page 15
