Chapter 11 #4
She’d welcome him. He knew that the way he knew the sun would rise in the east tomorrow morning. When he mounted her, she’d smile, eyes closed, and her entire body would welcome him. Long legs twined around his, arms crossed over his back, mouth open to him.
He shook with desire. His entire body felt parched and cold, deprived of something only she could give him. He’d just wanted to relax Nicole a little, give her a little pleasure, reassure her that he could control himself.
Before he jumped her bones.
He’d obviously been way too good at his job. She was completely out, not even a flicker of her eyes under her eyelids.
For a second, he was tempted to shuck his jeans, stretch out on the bed, roll her a little toward him, lift her leg over his hip and slip right into her.
Ah, yes. She was wet enough, from his mouth and from coming.
It would work. She’d wake up with his dick in her, moving nice and slow and easy, no better way to wake up.
He put his hands to the brass button of his jeans, then stopped.
She’d fallen into a very deep sleep, the sleep of the exhausted. There were faint purple stains under her eyes. Her cheekbones were sharper than usual and it seemed to him that her slender torso had become even more slender. Could she have lost weight in twenty-four hours?
And then another thought occurred to him, like a sledgehammer upside the head. If he could have kicked himself in the ass, he would have.
She’d been hungry. She’d asked for food and a shower. It was altogether possible she hadn’t eaten today. She’d told him how rattled she’d been last night. Some women stopped eating when they were rattled.
Not soldiers. Soldiers never lost their appetite, because who knew where the next meal was coming from? And who knew whether this meal might be the one to keep you alive in the field those extra hours waiting for help to come?
Nicole had been hungry.
Sam felt a chill rush over his skin at the thought of Nicole going hungry.
In his home. It made him sick with shame.
No one knew better than him what it was like to go hungry.
He’d spent half his childhood scrounging for enough food to keep up with his growth spurts.
Keeping Nicole hungry, just because he wanted to fuck her, was shocking to him.
He’d fallen for her from the first moment he’d set eyes on her, blown away by her beauty. Well, that had been lust. But now that he knew her, had seen firsthand what a fine woman she was, had felt her warmth, it seemed impossible to him that he could ever desire another woman.
This was it. Nicole was it.
And how did he treat her? Well, last night he’d nearly fucked her to death and tonight he ignored the fact that she was hungry.
He was going to get one shot at this, so he’d better start shaping up. No more jumping her like a rabid wolverine. Or at least not until all her other needs were taken care of.
He’d have to keep his lust in check. Some. When necessary. When he could.
Sam had never had a woman of his own. He’d fucked a lot, but even when they lasted weeks, they’d been essentially one-night stands for several nights.
He’d grown up around hugely dysfunctional people and he’d seen couples nearly kill each other with rage.
What could he know about being part of a couple?
But he’d lifted himself out of all that, made himself into a fine soldier and now a good businessman. He’d taught himself how to do that and he could teach himself how to be the partner of a woman like Nicole. He could do it. He could learn.
And step number one was to take care of her needs. She was tired, so he had to let her sleep. She’d been hungry, so he’d fix her a hot meal. And hope it wouldn’t poison her.
He was halfway to the kitchen when his cell phone buzzed from his jacket pocket.
“Yeah?”
What the hell did he have in his kitchen cabinets? Anything warm he could cook for her? What would you feed a traumatized woman? Soup. That was it. Soup was what they fed the sick. Only how the hell did you make soup?
“Sam, it’s Harry.”
“Uh-huh.”
So maybe soup was out. Presumably it took ingredients and time and some skill. Would a grilled-cheese sandwich do?
“Sam, we’ve got a Fed in the office.”
“A Fed?” Soup and sandwiches fled from his mind. There could only be one reason a Fed would be in his office. “They got a read off the vidcam.”
“Roger that. And the news isn’t good.”
“It never is. Shoot.” Holding his cell between his ear and shoulder, Sam shrugged his shirt back on, his shoulder holster and jacket. The jeans were still wet but what the hell. Things were moving fast and so would he.
“The guy’s ex-Special Forces. Ranger, for ten years.
Dishonorable discharge five years ago, accused of stealing and selling base weapons, fell off the grid.
But the Feds have linked him to one murder for hire and have been on the lookout ever since.
He was red flagged, that’s why the FBI got here so fast.”
This was bad news. Special Forces soldiers had an extra gear.
About a million dollars of training went into each soldier and they were worth it.
To a man, they were smart, relentless and capable of devastating violence delivered with surgical precision.
An SF soldier gone bad was tragic news. An SF soldier gone bad and after Nicole was terrifying.
“Coming in,” Sam said and flipped his cell closed.
He went to his gun locker and chose a Glock 19, slotted in a full magazine and picked up another two magazines he put in his jacket pocket.
He slid the Glock into the shoulder holster.
There was more firepower in the office, but it just felt good to be loaded for bear right now.
He took the time to stare for a full minute at Nicole, stretched out on his bed, in a deep sleep.
What would waking her up achieve? Nothing.
There was nothing she could do right now and learning that a highly trained bad guy was after her would only make her more anxious.
The best thing she could do for herself right now was to rest. Her father was safe and by God, if there was one place in all of San Diego where Sam trusted the security, it was his house.
It had top-of-the-line features, triple backups and a small separate generator to keep the alarm system going even if the electricity was cut. He would swear in court that he and Harry and Mike were the only ones who could get in.
He scribbled a note—Honey, I had to go into the office, call me on my cell when you wake up. Be back as soon as I can—and left it on the dresser.
Sam was in a rush to get back to the office, but still he stood for a moment on the threshold of his bedroom, just looking at her, naked, stretched out on his bed.
He could see every single detail of her slender, curvy body.
Could see the delicate collarbones, the sharp points of her hip bones, the long lines of her legs.
A stunningly beautiful woman. A head turner. The kind of woman who’d have made a fortune modeling.
But more than just a beautiful woman. She was smart and strong and kind and funny and fiercely loyal in a way he appreciated down to his bones. A woman in a million, and she was his.
He was going to keep her safe.
The fuckhead after her might have been a Ranger, but Sam was a SEAL, which trumped that to hell and gone. As long as he was alive, no one would ever hurt her.
And he was a hard man to kill.