Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
I watch something dawn in her eyes. She wasn’t tracking, but now she knows exactly what I’m talking about.
Our age gap. The fact that this is sexual tension between us. And I’m ten years older than her.
Enough age difference to ignite a war with her brother.
Hell, a war inside myself. I don’t have sex with girls. They can’t take what I want.
Sexual tension or not, there’s a whole assload of reasons I will not be acting on any crazy impulses.
Her brother.
My job.
The fucked up past and future that is Memphis ‘Scout’ Silas. In other words, my goddamned life.
But a trembling breath leaves her lungs and brushes over my skin like a wind signaling danger .
Within seconds the ache inside me turns into a roaring hurricane gale.
My mouth goes dry, my tongue swipes my lip.
Fuck. “Aria,” I warn in a gruff tone. As if she knows that I’m one second from doing something bad.
The storm grows and grows inside me until my abs are clenched and my muscles are burning. Heavy lust pulses through me, twists my bones, pretzeling my will. Making me crazier than I’ve ever felt in my life.
“I’m twenty one. I’m not a kid.”
Fisting my hands next to my thighs, I fight the urge to punch myself in the dick.
“Close enough.”
“That’s a lot like them thinking I can’t dive well because I’m a woman.”
“This is nothing like that,” I rasp, my hackles rising. But fuck if I can tear my gaze off her mouth.
Kissing Aria would be a disaster.
But, god bless whoever made her…
Those pretty brown eyes.
The way she gives me hell. The sweet line of her neck.
The sweeter smell of her skin. Curves for days packed in a strong little package.
But that’s not it.
That would be so damned simple. I could just jerk off or solve this problem when I get back stateside with some rando brown-eyed brunette.
But the evil asshole called logic in my head laughs at me. She’s so much more than a fuck.
So goddamned much more than a tight, wet pussy and a few hours of distraction.
Skating her tongue over her bottom lip, she sighs. “You feel it, don’t you?”
“No.” Yes. Fuck, yes.
It’s as if my bone marrow is jonesing for a hit of her.
The long kind. Days. Weeks. Months.
And the only damned solution is to drown myself in her nectar.
Fucking mother fucking hell.
Forcing myself to swallow, I stare at the one thing that could bring me down.
Her.
Not a bullet, not burning alive, not all the chaos and nightmare of being on active duty for all those years didn’t destroy me.
But this…
Is not happening.
Aria is not happening. For the love of all sanity. I am not kissing a woman that I can’t and won’t touch.
I never kiss women.
Rule number one in the Scout Silas playbook: no kissing because kissing leads to touching.
Rule two: no touching with hands or mouth.
Rule three: Orgasms will happen.
Supposedly, I can fuck like a goddamned pornstar according to the women I’ve had. They didn’t complain about any of my demands or my rules.
It’s simply a mutual release. Contractual in a way.
Nothing more.
That’s how sex clubs work. At least the ones I belong to.
The kind of place that Aria would never step foot inside.
She’d be horrified.
Worst of all, the thought of seeing her look at me with disgust in her eyes would break me.
I’m never going to see that expression on her face because she’s never going to find out about my stupid fucking hangups.
I step back a few paces from her and train my eyes on a spot beyond her shoulder because I’m not man enough to look into her eyes any longer.
“I’ll go get Griff’s gear set up. You find the doc and get that clearance. Eat something for fuck sake.” I warn, “You try to get out of it, I’ll know.”
Aria doesn’t move.
Hands fisted on the curve of her hips, she stares at me. My skin feels every second of her narrow-eyed scrutiny.
“What just happened, Scout?”
More than you’ll ever know.
An admission of how fucked up I am. How my life will never be the pretty happy-ever-after that my teammates have found.
The realization that I’ll be seventy-five—god willing my dick still gets hard—and fixing my carnal needs with a woman’s body that will never know or care to know my name, or know anything about me beyond the fact that I’ve got a big cock and know how to use it.
Damned depressing.
Yeah. That’s my life.
Forcing my jaw to relax before the bone breaks, I slice my angry gaze to hers. “You don’t want to know.”
She drops her hands and strides to me, hair swaying, mouth set in a determined line. “Why are you trying to tell me what to think?”
What the hell? I give her a scowl as I clench my teeth. “I’m not.”
“You’ve done that multiple times.”
This woman…I suck in air and blow out a rough sound. “Are you always so challenging? ”
Electric silence grows between, thickening the humid Vandemora morning air.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, King Scout, ruler of the world, he who espouses his reasoning upon all. He whose word is the last word.”
What. The. Hell?
Throat tight, I stare at her in disbelief. “Seriously? You’re attacking me right now?”
“Challenging. That’s the word you used. And it doesn’t take a doctorate to know that you’re not used to it and it bothers you.”
“Are you like this with everyone? If you are, now I know why your brother is so hard to get along with.”
She blinks and snaps back with fire. “That was rude!”
“It’s the truth. You and your brother must have the same genetic predisposition for being?—”
She fills the blank. “Spirited.”
I snort.
Her frown deepens and her voice drops low, and husky. “You can’t survive in the world I walk around in without backbone.”
Something about that remark unravels part of my anger.
She’s right. If she deals with dickheads like Brundage all the time…fuck.
“I get it. But you seem to be determined to push all my damned buttons. All the damned time.”
“I am determined.”
I pull my hat off, scratch my head, and slam the ball cap back on. “Oh great. What did I do to deserve this honor?”
After looking me over, she seems to have decided something. “You’re a puzzle and I’m determined to figure out the pieces. Besides, I think you need a friend. ”
Ha. Friend?
No. Double hell no.
This is not good. I’ve obviously stepped in it this time getting tangled up with her and need to figure out a way to backtrack fucking pronto. “Get your ass inside the house.”
She gives me one final inspection and walks past me. When she reaches the back door of the house, she looks back at me, her dark brown hair sliding along her shoulders.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, King Scout.” Lifting her chin, she hides all of the other emotions except determination. “I’m doing this because I’m here for a job. And don’t think this conversation is over. I’m not dropping it. So use this time to figure out how you’re going to drop the BS and tell me what just happened. We’ve saved each other’s lives. How many people can say that?”
I don’t reply.
Voice low and coarse, she says, “The least we can do is be honest with each other.”
When the door slams behind her, I unglue my feet and go after her.