Chapter 20
Istraighten my dinner jacket, glancing at Maddie across the opulent bedroom suite as we prepare to head back downstairs for after dinner drinks. The sight of her adjusting a strappy heel arrests my heartbeat, the short white tulle dress dipping low on her back offering views of endless creamy skin.
Finally glancing up, Maddie catches my stare and smirks. “See something you like, soldier?”
She straightens up and steps toward me, looking up to meet my eyes. Her sudden nearness steals my breath, her lips just inches away. The heady lavender scent of her envelops my senses. I stand frozen, fists clenched with the effort not to reach out and crush her against me.
Maybe I should. Noelle’s words are still lingering in my ears. Starting a new chapter with Maddie might be just the thing that I need to put the darkness behind me.
But I don’t move, still battling within. It would be so easy to grab her and kiss the living daylights out of her. The air crackles. As Maddie searches my face, her eyes cloud over.
“That”s what I thought,” she murmurs cryptically, turning away from me and heading for the stairs. “They’re waiting for us. Let’s get this over with.”
Downstairs, Roger rises to graciously greet us, a crystal glass in hand.
“There are our charming love birds! Come, have a nightcap.”
I steer Maddie subtly toward the curved chaise settee, unable to resist placing a hand on her lower back.
“Alicia already retired for the evening,” Roger mentions, taking his own seat across from Walt, who immediately launches into talk about our VR software as he pours us bourbon.
“Some port for you, dear?” He hands Maddie a small glass, and she takes it with her usual hundred-watt smile.
I nod along, keeping a hand around Maddie’s shoulder. She manages polite smiles, but I sense that she is otherwise miles away.
“Revolutionizing therapy for military PTSD is quite the ambitious endeavor, Jack,” Roger observes, ice cubes clinking in his glass. “Though I imagine it stems from feeling obligated after your own service.”
I swirl the amber liquid, choosing my words. “You could say that. Men come back after fighting for our country and are promptly and conveniently forgotten.” I meet his gaze. “I have the means to make a difference. Advanced technology paired with immersive simulations can rewrite their lives.”
Walt claps my shoulder firmly before launching into an effusive monologue on scope and interfaces. Roger asks thoughtful questions on scalability and the measurable neurological impact, while I nod along, keeping an eye on Maddie. She has taken out her phone, immersed in it for a while.
She leans in and whispers in my ear, her breath tickling me. “I’m going down to the beach for a bit.”
Without awaiting a response, she slips silently out the nearest doorway onto a dark veranda facing the sea.
I try tuning back into our chat, nodding along distractedly. But I feel the void next to me, and as a subtle break in conversation arises, I take the opportunity. “Let me go check on Maddie,” I murmur, already half out of my seat, lunging toward the terrace door.
I frown into a moon-washed darkness, the sound of distant waves filling the night air. The familiar silhouette I’m looking for is down by the lapping surf, faint music drifting up from her phone. Curious, I pick my way across pristine sand until a recent catchy hit registers.
Hypnotized, I watch her sway barefoot to the rhythm under the star-kissed sky. With closed eyes, she runs her hands up the plush, warm velvet of the bare skin of her own arms, as if caressing a phantom partner. Each roll of hips and shoulders is precise, and yet unchoreographed.
The air suddenly feels scorched. Unable to look away, I drink in her performance. My hands curl at my thighs, still trying to fight her magnetic pull.
When she finally notices me, Maddie stops short.
“Escaped the boring men?” I attempt a joke, hoping to dispel some of the tension.
She looks down, avoiding my gaze as she grabs her shoes. “I was trying out some dance moves. Before we leave tomorrow, I’d like to shoot a video.”
She brushes past me, but I grab her elbow. She wheels around, unexpected anger blazing across her face. “Did you change your mind about me again, soldier? Because your girl here is sort of done playing the hot and cold game.”
My girl.
Her eyes are a striking, night devouring thunderstorm. Her lips tremble, and I want to taste them, to stop the soft quaking with my own mouth.
She attempts to stalk away again, but I grab her waist and pull her back. Something dangerous flashes in her eyes. Frustrated about the strong hold, she launches her fists at my chest. “Damn you, Jack,” she cries, still trying to wiggle away. Adrenaline surging, I toss her easily over my shoulder and carry her flailing form up the sandy steps.
“Put me down this instant, you ass!”
“Ok,” I say once we reach the house. I set her down gently under the arched entrance, still blocking her path inside. I kneel in front of her and grasp a slim ankle. Maintaining eye contact, I brush the lingering sand off her skin, then slide on her discarded heel. I repeat the ritual with the other foot, fingertips trailing up her calves.
Maddie is flushed a furious rose color that begins at the top of her breast, spreading to her throat and cheeks. She stands very still, surprise widening her eyes as her chest rises and falls rapidly. Once finished, I rise slowly, then lift her hand to my mouth, brushing a feather-light kiss across her trembling knuckles.
“Come. I believe we have some unfinished business.”
She gasps, but I don’t wait for a possible protest as I sweep us back inside, calling casual goodnights to Walt and Roger. Still holding Maddie’s hand, I firmly guide us up the winding stairs.
“This scrap of fabric you’re wearing is deadly,” I growl, opening the door to our room. Once it clicks behind us, I place my hands on her hips, sliding them under her dress. It shows off her sculpted thighs, her legs stretching endlessly. She attempts to kick her heels off, but I stop her.
“These stay on,” I demand, pushing the skimpy dress over her head.
She is not wearing a bra, and her breasts spill free, taunting me to taste them. Unable to resist, I reach for one nipple, twirling the peaked pebble, then slide her silken panties down her legs. She steps free, now deliciously naked and standing in her sky-high heels in front of me.
“You’re all I can think about,” I murmur as I drop down on my knees, as if in front of a deity. With a sigh of relief, I bury my head between her thighs. The first taste of her is intoxicating. The moan that escapes her spurs me on, and I lift her leg over my shoulder, opening her to me. I trail my tongue over her opening from back to front, lingering over her clit and nibbling on it.
“Oh, Jack, I have missed this,” she moans, grinding her hips against my face.
I continue swiping my tongue over her pussy, holding her hips steady, her legs shivering. After every lick, I linger on her clit, twirling that sensitive button around my tongue until I feel her pulsing around me. I push a finger into her, continuing to lick and feeling her shudder and unravel over my face and around my tongue.
Once her orgasm subsides, I lift her up over my shoulder again and throw her on the bed. She gasps in surprise as I unbuckle my pants and let them fall to the ground, my cock springing free.
“You’ve been a brat this whole trip,” I rasp, lowering myself to her.
She is lying on the bed, looking at me with wide eyes, as if hypnotized. I push into her in one thrust.
“Is this what you wanted?” I growl as I slide in and out of her mercilessly. Stopping is not an option. It’s as if a lid has been lifted off a boiling pot. After denying myself for so long, I can finally feel her around me, my cock filling her as if she was made for me. Each thrust builds more tension, escalating my pleasure to a crescendo.
“Yes, this is what I want,” she pants, her voice in shreds. “I want you. All of you. Your big dick. Your battered soul,” she cries. “Your nightmares.” Tears race down her face, hot, salty rivulets running from her eyes. “I want your love.”
I lean down to drink them, soaking her up, as if I was a dry desert ground and she the storm of the century.
Desperate, delirious, I turn us over so that she is on top of me, grabbing her hips and slowing us down. I sit up, my head between her heavy breasts, and I flick my tongue over her nipples, starved.
“I don’t melt for you, Little Bird. I burn,” I breathe in between thrusts, willing this moment to linger for as long as possible. I glide through her like a silk spear, my hips pumping hungrily, wringing out every last second of our time together. When I finally spill myself into her, she tenses around me, and I swallow her scream while she milks every last drop of my come.
Sated and spent, we lie in bed for a long time. The hum of the ocean outside is a distant murmur.
“What happened overseas?” she asks after a long silence.
Her warm body is splayed on mine, and I listen to her breath. She is still, holding onto me as if she will never let go.
“We were captured by an Al-Qaida unit in the Arabian Sea.” I finally begin, my voice a hum. Suddenly, I”m no longer in the luxurious house at the beach, I”m back in that cold, dim room with a rough blindfold pressed against my eyes. My wrists are raw from the tight ropes binding them behind my back. I can hear the muffled conversations of my captors, their voices laced with malicious glee. “We spent months tied up in a confined space,” I continue. “They tortured us every day. Marc, Cade, and I are the only ones that made it out.”
My heart thrums in my chest as I”m transported back. I can still hear their taunting voices, dripping with cruel delight at having captured American soldiers.
“What happened?”
“They made a mistake,” I say. “Luckily. They wanted to show the world their triumph, to show us off. So, they set up a camera and dragged me in front of it, bellowing to the world in Arabic.”
“Did you understand what they were saying?”
“Yes. They were saying what you would expect. That we were not welcome, that they would capture and kill every last one of us. The man talking went on for a long time. I was in front of a camera, and I needed to find a way to communicate with my team. But my hands were tied. Then it hit me. They might have restrained my hands, but not my fingers. As the militant leader droned on before the camera, desperation gripped me. That could have been my only chance.”
I pause, a layer of cold sweat covering me despite the heat.
“The camera was rolling, and the militant finally finished. They gave me a message that I needed to relay, and as I recited the words, I subtly moved my fingers against the ropes in a coded pattern. I indicated my general location with a series of taps, hoping my team would recognize the reference to our pre-determined grid system. Then, pressing my fingers together, I signaled the number of captors and their heavy weaponry. A subtle brush of my fingers against the rough rope sent a final message— that I was alive, but that I needed help.”
“Oh, Jack, that’s terrifying.”
“They stopped the video and pulled me back to my cell. In the darkness, I had no idea how much time had passed. I agonized in the deafening silence. Was my message received? Would the captors notice the signals I transmitted? Did I condemn us all with the slip of a finger? Still, I had a glimmer of hope. I”d sent my message. I just had to trust that they received it.”
I take a shaky breath, trying to push away the vivid memory. As I sit up, I fall silent, reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand. Looking out of the window, I take solace in the sound of the waves.
“Reinforcements came just when I started to lose hope,” I begin slowly, watching Maddie”s face. I settle on sharing only key parts, not wanting to traumatize her.
“In the dead of night, special ops soldiers from my own SEAL team spearheaded a stealth attack. There was an explosion as they blew open the outer gate. Then there were heavy boots pounding down the corridor toward my cell.”
Maddie gasps softly, gripping my forearm. I pat her hand, editing the most gruesome visions seared into my mind—gore spattering the walls, anguished cries silenced by bullets.
“They rescued me and Cade first. Then we fought our way toward Marc and Dave. He . . .” I trail off, throat tightening. “Dave caught a bullet. Marc was in terrible shape, but still alive. We carried him to the waiting choppers.”
Maddie searches my face. I keep my body relaxed through sheer self-control, locking the visceral reactions deep down. She doesn”t need to know about the human wreckage we left behind, how Marc whimpered as we jostled his crushed limbs into the helicopter.
“But you made it out. You’re home,” Maddie concludes softly. “That”s all that matters now.”
I stare out at the serene beach, memories of the violent rescue overwhelming me.
Maddie touches my cheek gently, as if sensing the dark memories threatening to pull me back under.
“What you endured was traumatic. It”s only been a year. Give yourself time to heal.”
Her soothing voice is like a balm.
“I want to be here for you, Jack.” Her fingers trail down to lace with mine.
Slowly, I relax again, folding her into my arms. We stay motionless for a long time, until her heavy, even breaths on my chest tell me that she has fallen asleep.