Chapter 6
6
Making incoherent sounds against his mouth, Helen twisted free, and pain coursed through D-Day when he felt her hands work the snap, then the zipper on his pants. The pain of knowing that the unspoken vow not to mess with a teammate’s sister was going to be broken…again.
There was no going back, not with Helen. The instant she touched his hard, throbbing flesh, he was desperate to rid them both their barrier of clothes. He groaned out her name and grasped the fabric of the robe and pulled. The belt released and it flowed open, revealing generous breasts tipped with tight, puckered nipples. At that moment, she pushed his jeans off him, her hand going back to his dick, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe…he was suspended as she stroked him, his hips instinctively thrusting in tandem. His cock thickened, and his breath hissed out on a violent shudder as his body clenched in excruciating pleasure. He dropped his head forward, groaning, jerked her hand away, and hauled her up against him, then backed her to the door. Wedging his arm between her and the roughened wood, he clenched his eyes shut and thrust into her, unable to hold back one second longer. The feel of her, tight and wet, closing around him drove the air right out of him, the sensation so intense he couldn’t move.
Helen sobbed out his name and locked her legs around him, her movements urging him on, and D-Day crushed her against him, white-hot desire rolling over him. Angling his arm across her back, he drove into her again and again, pressure building and building. A low guttural sound was torn from him, and his release came in a blinding rush that went on and on, so powerful he felt as if he were being turned inside out. He couldn’t stop it as it crashed like a wave over him, taking him under.
His heart hammering, his breathing so labored he felt almost dizzy, he weakly rested his head against hers, his whole body quivering. He felt as if he had been wrenched into two, quite aware that she hadn’t orgasmed. It had been too quick, and he swore softly to himself, but he had been beyond any coherent thought there at the end. He didn’t know how long he stood there, with her trembling in his arms, not an ounce of strength left in him.
It wasn’t until he shifted his hold and tucked his face against hers that he realized her cheek was wet with tears. Hauling in an unstable breath, he turned his head and kissed her on the neck, a feeling of overwhelming protectiveness rising in his chest. There was no way he could let her go. Maybe never. She was embedded in his heart and there was no way to ever envision himself free. He waited a moment for the knot of emotion to ease, then he smoothed his hand up her back. “Can you hang on to me for a minute?” he whispered thickly.
She nodded once and tightened her arms and legs around him. D-Day pivoted with her clinging to him. Sharply aware of her breasts pressed against his bare chest, he tightened his hold as he went to the bed. Flexing his stomach, back, and thigh muscles, he sat down, then stretched out on his back with her.
With her straddling him, he drew her head down into the curve of his neck and released an unsteady sigh. She tightened her hold on him, then settled her weight fully on top of him, shuddering as she took him deeper inside her. He groaned, amazed at this woman’s ability to turn him inside out with wanting, even after he’d just had an incredibly explosive orgasm.
Hit with a rush of emotion, D-Day nestled her tighter against him and closed his eyes, slipping his hand up and down her back. Needing the feel of her beneath his palms, he caressed her down the length of her spine as he kissed her on the neck. She shivered and melted around him, and his heart rolled over. He’d never forget the first time she’d done that. One of the thousand things he remembered about her.
Struggling with a thickness deep in his chest, feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge crowding in on him. Sliding his hand higher, he rubbed the back of her neck, and he felt her swallow, then swallow again, and he realized she was struggling with some very raw emotions as well. His own throat closed up a little. Despite what had gone before, he didn’t want her thinking this was meaningless sex.
Feeling more and more raw, he cupped his hand along her jaw, then applied pressure with his thumb to get her to lift her head. Inhaling unevenly, he covered her mouth with a soft, searching kiss, trying to give her comfort. She kissed him back, softly, silently, reverently. Every moment of which quenched his thirst for her in a way that the fiercest, rocking orgasm couldn’t.
She moved her head a fraction, and he captured her face between his palms. Her expression was as serious as he’d ever seen it, her gaze locked on to his so intently it was as physical a connection as the kisses they’d shared. There was a stunned silence between them, the power and essence of which he saw reflected in her gaze as well.
It was both a relief to know he wasn’t alone in reeling from the magnitude of what he’d felt had happened…what continued to happen between them, even if he couldn’t define it, and a threat to what little sense he could hold on to. He had no idea what was going to happen, what meaning she would draw from this, or what actions it might motivate him to take. The breadth and depth of which both alarmed and thrilled him.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispered as she slid off his body and his softening dick. She disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard water running. He stared at the ceiling. His gut knotted. He didn’t want to acknowledge that coming here had been risky, fucking reckless…a mistake. No matter how unbelievable it had been with her, he was putting them both in danger…him professionally, her personally.
Then everything scattered as she emerged from the bathroom, every muscle in his body grew taut with immediate awareness. She looked like a freaking goddess. Her hair was mussed, and just tickling the tops of her rounded breasts, full and firm and crowned with soft pink aureoles. Her ribs were visible in the bright light, the tantalizing curve of her body tapering down to her small waist, then flaring at the hips, the thatch of hair at her groin just as blonde and silky as her hair. His chest tightened, everything male in him responding to her. He wanted her all over again, but this time, he would make it so damn good for her. Nothing about Helen could ever be a mistake.
She took him in the same way he was staring at her. Her eyes caressed him from his face down the length of him, looking both sucker-punched and concerned at the same time. He shifted, then reached out his hand, unable to wait for her any longer. “Come here, darlin’. Now.”
She came to him swiftly then, straddling him again, her hand going to his chest. Her nails raked over his taut nipples, the simultaneous arousing scratch and softness of her palms sliding over his pectorals, ribs, and every ridge of his thick, muscled abs, drew him to her like she was wielding potent magic. He reveled in each sensation.
His breath released in a rush, an electrifying wave of need radiating through his lower body. She clawed him again on his lower stomach, just at the edge of where his dick was nestled against her wet core, and he tightened his hold on her, feeling himself growing hard.
“God, you’re so beautiful, Drew,” she said, her panting breaths telling him all about her need for him. “So, addictive. I want you all over again.” She closed her eyes and moaned softly, her lower body grinding against his.
“Not so fast…this time,” he said, rolling his body so that she was trapped beneath him. “Let me show you how much I missed you, Helen.” Kissing her, he let himself sink into her, consuming her. He brushed the tips of his fingers between her legs, then skimmed lower, sliding one long finger against the hot, slick core of her, then he thrust gently up into her. She gasped, moaning so beautifully for him. She was so sweet and wicked. He could barely stop himself from sliding into her, but he was determined to give her the kind of pleasure she gave him, on so many levels, even when he was fighting with her.
He cupped her breast, scraping his thumb across her stiff nipple, and she arched her back as he thrust his fingers into her again, his thumb now on the sweetest part of her, swirling with deliberate purpose. Her bare breasts jutted forward, those taut, blush nipples so ripe and sweet looking. He licked one nipple, then the other, a wet, velvet swipe of his tongue over each sensitive peak, designed to torment and tease. Each stroke made her tremble and moan. The gentle scrape of his teeth worked to bring her to the ultimate release, his mouth dealing both sweet bliss and exquisite pain. Soon. When he finally sucked her deep into his mouth, her entire body shuddered, and she cried out.
Her response tore a groan out of him, too, and his mouth came back to hers in a desperate, needy kiss that made his mind spin. The deep, assertive stroke of his tongue mimicked the way his fingers drove into her. Threading her fingers in his hair, she tightened until the grip was almost painful. He broke the kiss, needing more intimate contact with her, his mouth trailing a searing path from her neck back to her tight, puckered nipples, then kissed and nuzzled his way down, sliding his hard frame over her. Pushing her legs further apart, widening her until she was fully open to him, he groaned as he buried his face against her stomach and pressed her belly with soft, damp kisses.
Her breasts rose and fell, her nipples still hard from his mouth. “Drew,” she whispered. “Oh, God.”
He stroked her slower, deeper, heightening the tension building within her. Unable to wait another moment, he opened his mouth between her legs, putting his tongue on her with a fierce need enveloping him. She gasped and he licked her gently and slowly. A tremor went through her body, and desire slid down the length of his spine and settled deep into his balls.
His tongue played her, teased her as her back arched and her hand twisted in his hair as he delved deep into her honeyed heat, drawing her into his magic, a heady, sexual spell of exquisite wanting.
He worked her close to release, teasing her with the promise of an orgasm until she was squirming and writhing and begging him to let her come. He sucked her clit, her hips lifting against his mouth as she inhaled sharply, jolting against him as she came undone, a soft moan, the tightening of her thighs, a slow grind upward into his mouth, and then complete, utter surrender. He reveled in it.
As his erection strained against the mattress, full and hot and heavy, pulsing with every heartbeat, he played her out before moving back up her body, pinning her beneath him, and thrusting inside. The latent ripples of her orgasm pulsed around him, winding him up, making him harder.
Her bare breasts were crushed against his chest, her knees bracketed his hips, and the urge to possess her in this most primal way crashed over him. Tangling his fingers in Helen’s hair, he held her head in his hands and slanted his mouth across hers in a hot, deep, tongue-tangling kiss.
But as her breathing quickened, escalated, so did the long, smooth pumping of his hips until that wasn’t enough. Her hands slid to his shoulders, and her fingers dug into his muscles as he surged into her, again, and again, tearing a moan from the back of her throat. His strokes came faster, longer, ruthlessly demanding, filled with an insatiable need. Their eyes met and held, hers filled with blue heat, and he watched as she gasped and arched into him when he thrust hard into her. The way she looked at him was so overwhelming, his throat got thick, and his chest tightened.
He fell so deep and got lost in the rush of emotion and sensation, lost in her. He groaned fiercely, possessively, arched into her one last time, infinitely deep. His entire body shuddered as he came, so hard and strong, he was pulled under.
His scorching release seemed to go on and on, wringing him dry and leaving him weak and devastated as he gasped for breath. He buried his face in her neck, and as he gradually recovered and his mind cleared, he became intimately aware of the woman beneath him. Reality returned with a rush of frustration and awareness of how much trouble he was in.
He shifted off her, and she clutched him. “Don’t go just yet.”
He pulled her with him as he settled onto his back, tucking her against his chest. “I’m fucked up enough to want to stay with you all night, but I can’t. If they’re not looking for me now, they will be.”
Her gaze jerked to his as she rose and draped herself over him. She bristled in outrage, and it seemed like he wasn’t the only one with protective instincts. She scowled. “Who’s looking for you?”
He chuckled softly, tugging on a clump of her blonde, silky hair. “Relax, tiger. My team.”
“What did you do?” Her tone had become quite clipped, but her hand continued to slide all over his chest.
“I was pissed off about the whole NOC thing and you being involved, I punched Zorro.” He was walking a very thin tightrope here and he wasn’t going to come out unscathed. Best case scenario, he’d be chewed out by Joker; worse case—a mark on his record. He regretted hitting one of his brothers, but Zorro could be so…right sometimes. Damn, him. There was no one like Helen, and she was brave, and he wished just a little bit that she was a coward. Six months of agonizing over her had been arduous. A part of him wanted to put his wants first, just for one night. But he just wasn’t wired that way. He’d joined the SEALs to give himself over to something bigger and more important than himself. He closed his eyes. That was a vow he couldn’t break. Ever.
She turned toward him and sighed. “It always comes back to me, doesn’t it? Everything that’s causing you turmoil. I’m nothing but a burr under your saddle.”
“A pain in my ass? That’s for sure, lady.” He trailed his fingers over the fine bones in her face, his fingers trembling a little. He’d imagined this moment more times than he cared to admit, all the while fighting against it every step of the way. When he’d met her, he had been struggling with so much—his self-worth, where he fit into the people in his life, a hollow, empty feeling that hadn’t gone away, and a nugget of anger and resentment that festered inside him. Then there was the struggle with trust, the remnant of his betrayal on many levels still stinging, circling him right back to the whole self-worth thing. He needed to be present in every sense of the word and Helen was a major distraction. He had people counting on him, people who meant the world to him, and he had to include her because she had made it clear that no obstacle was too big or hard to overcome when it came to them. That humbled him. He had a job to do…work that was more important to him than anything he’d done before. It was easily the most personal thing he’d ever done. And the most rewarding. He cupped her face, whispering gruffly, “So, how about you cut me some slack and hightail it back home.”
A look of deep disquiet darkened her eyes, a somber, distracted frown appearing. “I can’t, Drew. I understand where you’re coming from.” He sighed and, clutching his shoulder and squeezing, she said firmly, “I do.” Her eyes searched his with riveting energy. “You value your job, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
Her tone was gentle but firm. “Then do me the courtesy of valuing what I do. My reasons haven’t changed, and if you think about the fact that if Taer and Lando get suspicious, that could derail your whole mission. I don’t want to face a battle with you every time I’m in the field. Your mission sounds terribly important that you get them to work with you.”
“It is…vital….” He was reluctant to tell her, knowing that it would only entrench her deeper, but he’d never been able to resist Helen, especially now when she was being so completely honest and straightforward with him. “If we don’t succeed, many Filipinos will suffer.”
She swallowed hard. “On what scale?”
He held her gaze for a moment, the disquiet in her eyes deepening, then he looked away, his face taut. “Astronomical, Helen.” He rubbed his thumb against her soft cheek, then looked back at her, feeling bleak. “Not only them, but Americans, and maybe other countries. I can’t be sure.”
She bit her lip, and he knew there was no budging her now. Helen leaned forward on her folded arms, her expression suddenly earnest. “Then my role could be just as vital.”
He saw the wisdom in her resolve and her arguments, but that didn’t make this bitter pill any easier to swallow. He would have to deal with her in the mix but would do his utmost to keep her as safe as he could.
“I’m sure Buck is furious.”
He stared at her, a flicker of amusement working through him. “Buck is fit to be hog-tied. He’s as convinced as I am that if you’re given an inch, you’ll take a mile.”
She met his gaze with a hint of defiance. “I won’t.”
The intense spark that she set off in him was both sure and resigned. “You will.”
“I will not.”
He gave a derisive snort as he shot her a disbelieving look, then holding back a smile, he tugged her hair again. “Don’t try that innocent look on me. You know damned well the minute our backs are turned, you’ll be up to your neck in some kind of scheme.”
“I won’t do anything without checking with you first.”
“Sure, you won’t.”
She stared at him, a slightly tenacious set to her chin, and he raised his eyebrows in a knowing see-what-I-mean expression. Realizing that he had her cornered, and that she’d get nowhere trying to argue her way out of it, she yielded with a grin and tipped her head in unwilling agreement. “Okay, so maybe I do get a little carried away, but I’ll do my best.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re here for health reasons, not to be a commando or—” He paused for emphasis. “—to prove a point.”
She didn’t say anything as she assessed her best line of attack, but there was a sly gleam in her eye. “How about we make a deal? I’ll curb my tendency to be…a hellion, and you can teach me to shoot.”
He frowned. Damn her for playing him. “Shoot? How much?”
She gave him a halfhearted grin. “Some.”
He nearly smiled as he responded. “Define “some.”
“I can hold it steady and pull the trigger. Center mass, right?”
He shook his head, grabbing her and swinging his body on top of hers. “You’re slick, slick, but I already know that Buck taught you to shoot, and you’re a better shot than he is or anyone in your family, including your father, huh, dead-eye? I know all about that coyote incident. You saved him some serious injuries by putting that animal down.”
She laughed softly. “Damn him for bragging about me,” she said, her voice taking a rather husky edge.
There was something deep and riveting in her eyes, disturbingly intimate, and his heart melted all over again. “He can’t help it. You’re worth bragging about,” he said softly. Unable to stay neutral, D-Day cuddled her close, wishing he and Helen could have just one day to themselves, that they could close out the world and just be together, maybe it would give him the time to figure this whole thing out. Just be nothing else—not SEAL and aid worker, not undercover combatants, not her brother’s best friend and his sister, not a line he’d crossed and couldn’t uncross—just two people who had found something so intense and special that it made him ache just to think about it.
She took his face between her palms. “All joking aside,” she whispered, “we’ll get through this together.” She molded herself to him and pressed her mouth to his. She held nothing back—nothing. And he felt the fire in her—the wonderful, hot, all- consuming fire that seemed to come from her very soul. It was so overpowering.
She shifted and pushed him over onto his back. Her gaze went over him, slow, assessing, and she frowned. “Dammit, Drew,” she whispered, her voice filled with annoyance. “You’re nothing but skin, muscle, and bones. I can feel every one of them when you move.”
She stared at him, her eyes held his so solidly, so certainly. “Is that the nurse talking, or the woman?” he said, going for levity, but she was having none of it.
“Both. Please tell me you’re not starving yourself over me.”
Experiencing an acid rush to his belly, he tried to shift away from her, but she held on to him so tightly, and it felt so fucking good. “Maybe a little,” he said gruffly. “Maybe working out a tad harder to get through the day.”
Helen made a sympathetic sound, and he winced, swallowing back his dreadful unhappiness. “And what else?”
“Drinking,” he said with shame. Experiencing a sharp, clenching pain in his chest, he buried his face in her neck, trying not to think. “Fighting, too.”
“No wonder you look like hell,” she whispered, exhaling unevenly and looked up at him, the light revealing the pain in her expression. His gut churned with regret and more shame.
As he looked down at her, something broke open in him, something he couldn’t contain. This was likely not the time, or the place, to discuss such a critical point in his life. He may not get another chance. But sometimes a person had to take the only moment available and find a way to make it work. He would have to leave soon, and their jobs would make it impossible. He seriously couldn’t continue on this path he was on, not without something giving, and he couldn’t afford anything he held dear to break. He drew a deep, uneven breath, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t know how to do this anymore, darlin’,” he murmured hoarsely. “I’m completely lost without you in my life…your family. It’s killing me.”
Her eyes darkened, and there was a light quiver of her chin as she took a steadying breath, blinking at the moisture accumulating in her eyes. Except she didn’t have a moment to speak. His cell buzzed, and he separated from her, heading for his jeans. He pulled it out, expecting the message to be from his team, but he froze.
Hey mate, meet me at Bang Bang Brew in town now. I have a deal for you.
The message was from Graham’s best mate from where they grew up. Adelaide. Charlie Fisher was the closest to the dead gunrunner except his family. He would have to be careful if he expected to pull this off. He could blow everything in this meeting.
He turned to look at Helen and she nodded. “Go,” she said softly. He quickly dressed, then walked to the bed swearing softly. He dragged her up in a crushing embrace, tucking his head against hers. He held her for only a moment, then stroked his thumb across her cheek, his voice unsteady as he whispered, “I’ll see you later.”
Helen tightened her hold, emotion thick in her voice. “We’ll figure it out, Drew. I promise.”
Shifting his hold, he gave her a deep, drugging kiss, then hugged her hard. “I don’t know, Helen. I’m afraid to hope,” he said gruffly. He had so much baggage, his past…this sneaking around, these broken vows. It scored his heart. Her face softened. “I’ve got to go.” He continued to hold her for another moment, then kissed her again and reluctantly released her. “Stay safe,” he murmured.
She grabbed his arm. “All I can do is ask you to trust me. And to think, perhaps, a bit more broadly where solutions to problems are concerned. That’s your deal, isn’t it? Work the problem?”
Damn if she wasn’t right. Adjusting his thinking?—
His cell buzzed again, and this time it was from Buck’s undercover phone. Where the fuck are you?
Since he couldn’t reply with, I just finished fucking your sister and pouring out my heart like a weak, heartsick fool , he said, “Work the problem, huh? You make it sound easy. But right now, I’ve got to go, or I’ll be in much deeper hot water than I am now.”
With that he turned away from her, and before slipping out into the hall, he checked to see if the coast was clear. He threw one more glance over his shoulder. Work the problem. Could he? She blew him a kiss and he stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him, wondering if he’d ever be with her like that again or were they both heading for some major heartache.