Chapter 12
12
Damn…oh, freaking wow . She could barely breathe. As if his gorgeous, muscled body, lean and powerful—thick through his chest, rippling his abs, the strong, sexy column of his throat, his stubbled jaw, and those sexy hip muscles bisecting his lower torso—his hot blue eyes, and the melting beauty of his face wasn’t enough, his male anatomy would keep a woman busy for as long as he could stand it. If she hadn’t been crazy for him before, she was almost out of her mind with desire. His erection jutted out, thick and hard, and more than enough to fill her full, and then some. The head, smooth and broad, drew her eyes and her mouth, his balls drawn tight from his arousal.
She wanted to spend the next hour just touching him, stroking him, and exploring everything that made him so virile and potently male.
Just like her, he groaned and closed his eyes, shuddering from the way she looked at him, and it went to her head like a delicious drug, making her pulse trip all over itself, the delicious sight of his body instigating a hungry ache through her veins.
“Geezus, Leelee,” he whispered, his ragged breathing harsh in the silence of the room. “Do something before I go insane.”
Settling between his legs, she leaned forward and captured one of his rigid nipples between her lips. She laved the erect nub of flesh with her tongue and grazed the tip with the edge of her teeth. A groan rumbled up from his chest as she traversed her way lower, spreading hot, wet kisses on his taut, flat belly. Finally, she came to his thick, straining erection. She wrapped her fingers around the hard, velvet-textured length of him, and felt him pulse in her tight grip. Her other hand cupped his sack and kneaded him. She smoothed her finger over the big, plumb-shaped head of his cock.
She looked up at him from between her tangled lashes and said, “You’ve often called me mouthy. Let’s see what else I can do with it besides argue.”
His nostrils flared, and stark desire heated his eyes. “Fuck…Leelee. Fuck,” he growled as she took him in her wet mouth, his skin hot and salty against the stroke of her tongue. He shuddered and tangled his hands in her hair, and she sucked him, taking him as deep as she could. She pleasured him with her mouth, teased him with her tongue, and aroused him to a fever pitch of need that made his entire body shake with the restraint of trying to hold back.
“Oh, geezus,” he breathed as he uncontrollably thrust his hips against her mouth and lips, guttural sounds that made her ache for him in ways that went beyond the physical.
He pushed on her shoulders, and she reluctantly released him, aching to bring him to a full orgasm, but she needed him so badly between her thighs. She’d find time for that later.
Then he was upright, picking her up like she was nothing but a feather. His hands splayed wide on her back as he flipped her onto the mattress. Catching at the sides of her lace panties, he dragged them off, nearly ripping them in his haste to get her naked. With quick, urgent movements he used his knee to widen her legs and dropped his tawny head down. His mouth grazed her collarbone, the tip of one breast, her midriff. The feel of his hot, damp mouth on her made her cry out, his firm, searing strokes against her core feeding her hunger. He closed his warm, wet mouth over her and plunged his tongue deep. This time she was rocking her hips in the throes of passion so deep, it shook her foundations. Then the pleasure took over, sharp and riveting, and stealing her breath, releasing like a rubber band and snapping back with such sharp, aching waves of unbelievable sensations. She lifted her hips as her orgasm clawed through her, ripples of pleasure ebbing and flowing until she was mindless, panting, intoxicated, and consumed.
The shudders within her blown mind and body seemed to go on and on, and before the last of the tremors subsided, Hazard was moving up and over her. He covered her body, all hard, lean muscles and barely suppressed hunger. In one long, smooth thrust he slid into her, and she lifted her knees high against his waist to give him the deepest access possible. Once he was buried to the hilt, he closed his eyes and groaned as her inner muscles clasped him tight.
She was sure he wanted to come in the worst way, but instead of pumping into her, he went still, as if relishing the moment, the warmth and softness of being inside her, and the aftermath of the internal contractions still buffeting her body.
As if he had a direct link to her thoughts, his lashes drifted open and his darkened gaze locked with hers, then plunging deeply. Again, and again. Long, slow agonizing strokes designed to make the pleasure last.
He lowered his head and kissed her, the soft, sensual glide of his tongue matching the rhythm of his lazy thrusts. Eventually, the heat and friction caught him on fire, finally shattering his control.
She felt the change in him as his pace quickened, his breathing grew ragged, and he pumped harder, faster toward his own release. She dug her fingers into the rippling muscles of his damp back, arched high and hard into his thrusts, and felt him stiffen as his climax peaked. He dragged his lips from hers, surged into her a final time, and on a ragged, primitive growl, he spilled himself into her.
Leigh hung on to him and turned her face against his throat, the emotional aftermath as wrenching as the release—she felt raw and so full of something she couldn’t name, it scared the hell out of her and soothed her at the same time.
This man. This fucking man, who had saved her life, drove her crazy, gave as good as he got, and treated her as a valuable human being even when he was arguing with her, could so easily turn her inside out.
As if it took the last bit of energy he had, Hazard adjusted his hold, his hand splayed wide on the back of her head, holding her with such absolute tenderness that it made her throat close up all over again. Those special operator hands that used a gun with such skill, fought hand to hand with brute force, and wielded a knife like it was an extension of him, were nothing but gentle on her.
He held her for a long, long time, until his breathing leveled out and she stopped shaking, until the aftermath softened into something less tense.
Cradling her head against him, he dragged his arm out from under her. Bracing his weight on his forearms, he cupped her face, looking into her eyes with a soft kind of stunned expression. He lowered his head and gave her the sweetest, softest kiss. Releasing another sigh, he lifted his head and gazed down at her, a glint of intimate amusement lightening his eyes. “Are you going to leave me alone now so I can get one moment of peace without your mouth driving me crazy?” he growled
“I can still fight, you know,” she warned without one ounce of threat as she smoothed her hand up his long, muscled back. She didn’t miss his double meaning about her mouth and smiled.
He grinned at her. “Yeah, uh-huh, wet noodle.”
She gave him a chastising look. “You want me to leave?”
“Yeah, get the fuck out.”
She started to move, and he chuckled and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “I was kidding.”
“Well,” she said, reaching up and running her hands through all that gorgeous hair. “We’ve crossed the damn line but good.” Her hand slipped down to the nape of his neck, caressing him in slow, easy brushes of her fingers.
“Damn good,” he said, his eyes flaring with both banked desire and wry humor. “I’d say it’s your fault, and my dick, who I couldn’t control.”
“Me and your dick are to blame? Typical man.”
“Yup.” A smile still in his eyes, he trailed his thumb against her upper lip. “If you were, say, butt-ugly, I would have had a fighting chance.”
“Butt-ugly?” she asked. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“I think you’re gorgeous, drop-dead g-fucking-gorgeous.” He shifted his hips and Leigh gripped him as her expression altered and he frowned. “What is that look about? You’ve gotta know that’s true. The way guys look at you.”
She could have skirted the question and laughed it off, agreeing with him, but that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg part of the truth. She was done with holding back on him. She was aware that what had happened between them was rocking her world. He had rocked her world from the moment she met him, and avoiding her emotions, denying her feelings would hurt him. She never wanted to hurt him by taking the easy way out.
“Leigh?”
She couldn’t help but wonder if she shared all her secrets with him, secrets that still caused her pain and grief, that maybe it would help ease her into this new facet of her life. She didn’t think she could go back to the way she had been. She exhaled a deep breath. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Rolling to his side, cradling her back against his chest, he whispered huskily in her ear, “Start at the beginning.” He tightened his arm around her when she made a soft, distressed sound, afraid of spoiling what they had just shared with the weight of her past, but knowing she had to take the risk.
“You’re safe with me, Leelee.”
Her heart thrummed hard, and it gave her the courage to start at the beginning. She was safe with him.
“I was always told I was a sensitive child from the moment I could remember. It wasn’t something that was praised or accepted in my family. My parents are corporate lawyers and all about those golden billable hours.” Swallowing hard, she clamped her lips tightly together. This was harder, so much harder than she thought it would be. “I don’t know about your father, but mine was shallow.” It hurt to say it out loud. “He could only be bothered with me when I was on top of the world, but one stumble, one fall, one failure, one mistake, and I was a pariah.”
“My dad died when I was young.”
Feeling contrite down to her bones, she turned and gazed up at him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
But he shook his head, his jaw set. “You didn’t. I don’t have many feelings about him. I never knew him.”
Whatever he said, that wasn’t true. Everyone had a feeling about their parents, whether they were present or not. Maybe he was in denial like she was or maybe it was something he buried. She hoped that she would get the chance to ask him about his true feelings. With a lump in her throat, she whispered sadly, “I didn’t really know mine, either.”
Gathering what courage she had, she held his gaze, knowing she had to face this head-on. It was the only way, and as she said, she couldn’t go back to who she had been before.
“My mother is worse, so much worse. All she knew how to do was belittle me at every turn all the while trying to bend me to her will. I gave in because I was young, and I needed my parents’ love. I didn’t know what that would cost me,” she murmured. “So much.”
Leigh looked down, the ache in her throat so intense that she was afraid she was going to cry. She waited for the knot to ease, her voice soft and uneven. “They are pretentious, rude, and condescending, to name a few things about them.” She shrugged, a humorless smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “I was celebrated for what I accomplished, not for who I was, but for who my mother and father wanted me to be, and I was young and foolish.” After a long hesitation, she continued. “They groomed me from the moment I was born to enter Harvard and then Harvard Law School. They expected me to carry on the greedy family name and go into corporate law.”
There was a strained silence, then, his voice warm with compassion, Hazard said, “And you did?”
“Eventually.” She shrugged, a humorless smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “I wasn’t over being young and foolish.” She released a heavy sigh, unable to meet his gaze. “I fell in love with a Marine, James Summerfield…Jamie. He painted this beautiful picture of the life we could have, how I could do as I wished, and we could be happy. I bought it hook, line, and sinker. He said there was going to be a troop withdrawal, that the coalition forces were done in Afghanistan and the war was over. The president was drawing down. He died in a terrorist bombing at the Kabul airport.” She huffed out a hard breath and swallowed past the growing lump in her throat that always came with memories of Jamie. “Seven years before Abby Gate.”
Hazard sucked in a breath and went rigid. She turned to look at him, and the horror in his eyes made her curl her hand around his biceps. “What did I say?”
“Abby Gate.” He closed his eyes, and she could see how he struggled against what had to be very unpleasant memories.
“Oh, God. You were there?” Her insides shriveled up at the thought of this man being on the same ground where Jamie had died. She watched, as did many US citizens, as the chaos and heartbreak played out in the news. She squeezed his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He swallowed hard. “No, don’t be. The memories from there are pretty potent. It’s only been three years.”
She nodded but didn’t let go of his arm. She clung to him. “Anyway, after he died, I was devastated. All my hopes and dreams had been shattered, and when I graduated, I took a job my mother got me at a law firm in DC.” Her voice had grown raspy, and the back of her eyes stung. She’d been such a copout. “While there, I got involved with one of the partner’s sons, and we got engaged. Then I tried on the wedding dress, and I broke out in hives.” She leaned her head back. “It was a wake-up call. I’m not proud of how I acted.”
“Hives. Wow, that was telling.” His big hand slipped into her hair, and he pressed her face into his throat.
She nodded, breathing in his scent, and it gave her a measure of comfort. “Exactly.”
“What did you do?”
“I bolted out of DC to a place my family owns in Aspen and told him I couldn’t go through with it over the phone. It was the same day I tendered my resignation from the firm and applied for a job in the Boston DA’s office. I never looked back.”
“I still think you’re beautiful, and now I think you’re brave and tough.”
She turned into his arms, and he hugged her to him. “I’ve had a very lonely life, and most of that is my own fault. After Jamie, I never wanted to give up my power like that. I needed to be independent, and of course, my parents were horrible about my broken engagement and my change of job. I got texts like you wouldn’t believe. It pushed me to work harder to show them that making money wasn’t as important as they thought.”
“Did it change their minds? Your success?”
“Ha, my success. To them I’m not much better than a doorman or street cleaner. Serving, even if it is the lofty cause of justice, isn’t what Waterfords do.”
“It’s what this Waterford does,” he murmured.
She looked up at him. There was affection, sensual hunger, and a deeper emotion that made her heart skip a beat. A blend of trust and caring she’d been so scared to believe in.
“I think that whatever you do or not do is what is important, not other people’s expectations,” he said, cradling her cheek in his big, warm palm, forcing her to confront the emotional connection between them that scared the living daylights out of her. “Validation only means something if it comes from within. Who gives a shit if people agree with you, or praise you?—”
“Or give you medals?”
He scoffed at that. “Yeah, or give you medals. What you do is what validates you. Everything else is just…noise.”
She gritted her teeth, shying away from the ease with which he scratched the surface of her painful truth. He’d gotten much closer than anyone had in her life, including Jamie, and she had loved him with all her heart, but in retrospect, she might have been harboring resentment toward him for dying, something she might have suppressed for a long time and carried that resentment over to all men in uniform.
“You think you’re pretty smart, Archer.” She covered his mouth, his lips so soft against the pads of her fingertips. “Don’t answer that.”
He grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss in her palm, closing her fingers around it. “You can count on that when you need me. I’ll be there, Leigh.”
It was those words that she found the hardest to trust in, even though her heart wanted so badly to believe in Hazard—the honorable man he was and the promises he made. Tears gathered in her throat and stung the backs of her eyes. Not wanting him to witness her weakness, her greatest fears, she plowed her fingers through his hair and brought his mouth down to hers.
She kissed him deeply, hungrily, desperately, striving for mindless pleasure to chase away her doubts and uncertainties, something he’d asked her about before they’d had sex. Sliding her hand down his belly, she cupped his erection in her palm and stroked him. He grew harder from her touch, and she started to move over him to straddle his waist, needing him in ways she couldn’t define. Physical need was so easy. What wasn’t easy was all the other emotional chaos swirling within her that made her feel as though her carefully guarded life was spinning out of control.
He caught her around the waist before she could crawl on top of him and eased her back to his side. She made a small sound of frustration, and he deliberately slowed their kiss, soothing rather than arousing her with the slide of his lips against her soft yielding mouth. Then he grasped her wrist and rested her palm right over his rapidly beating heart and held it there.
He ended the kiss and nuzzled her cheek, her hair. His shaft pressed against her hip, but it was obvious to her that he didn’t intend to do anything about his hard-on. “Let me hold you, Leelee,” he whispered in her ear.
She nearly broke down right there, but after years of being strong and holding herself together, she was conditioned to keeping her emotions locked tightly away. And those honed instincts kicked in now, enabling her to keep tears at bay.
Still, Hazard was much too hard to deny. He wanted to hold her. When had anyone ever just held her, without the pretense of anything more? And how did this incredible man know exactly what she ached for, right when she needed it the most?
Tired of pretending that she could face the world alone, she sank against Hazard’s side, rested her cheek on his chest, and absorbed the comfort and affection he so selflessly offered her.
She closed her eyes, and he held her in his embrace, and she let his strength take over, even as a flash of Corporal—a blank place where his name should be. She knew his name. Frustration gripped her. Why couldn’t she remember his name? His face flickered across her mind, the way he turned his head, the way his eyes widened, the way he jumped at her, the way he looked broken on top of her, the way the blood trickled from his ears, and with his last breath, the way he protected her. The memories crowded her, pushed at her, as concussive as the blast he had shielded her from, as damaging as the bullets he had taken for her.
Leigh? Are you all right?”
She jerked out of the memories like she was surfacing from a deep, dark swim, gasping for breath, her insides trembling. His voice brought everything sharply back into focus, but she refused to ask him the question that burned in her mind. She should remember his name by herself.
“Yes. I’m okay. I’m just tired, and it’s been tough just sitting around. Hazard’s face was etched with concern as he watched her.
“You’re pale and shaking. What happened?”
“Nothing. We should get some sleep. I’d really like to get back to work tomorrow. We don’t have time for any more recovery.”
His gaze was unwavering. “So, you’re just stir-crazy? Frustrated? That’s all?”
Leigh managed to get some energy back into her voice. “Work frustrated? Yes. Sexually frustrated? Not anymore.”
His expression still wary, he relaxed a little and managed a smile. “That’s good.” He stared at her a moment longer, assessing the situation. “But if you need to talk about anything—anything at all—I’m here.” She buried her face in Hazard’s neck as he slipped with her to the mattress. “Now go to sleep.”
She was thankful to have his eyes off her, allowing her to hide her inability to stop these flashes of memory from resurfacing. They would go away. It was just a residual of the aftermath of a terrible situation. They would pass, and she would remember his name. She would.
Someone was screaming. Someone else shouted something she couldn’t make out as if she was underwater, but she knew why that person was screaming. His kneecap had exploded.
Jack was dead. She had no doubt, and she was trapped under such a heavy weight. She tried to pull free, then froze as a dark shadow passed over her.
Oh God. The screams turned to gasping sobs and moans. She heard a struggle, muttered curses, and saw movement in the shadows.
Any second that darkness would come for her—and she was trapped.
She tried to move and struggled against that dead weight. Get free. Run. Oh, God, run, she thought, the words ricocheting around her brain as every breath became harder to draw. The smell of blood filled her nose, and a sob of pure panic broke free from her throat. She couldn't breathe, and her heart felt like it was going to burst from her hysteria. She couldn’t move—and then it was too late.
The shadow passed over her again, stealing the faint light, plunging her into utter darkness. A man bent over her. She could feel the weight of his presence, hear his breathing. Oh, God. She was doomed. She hurt so badly, every muscle in her body, every bone, every part of her heart cried out.
Help me , she wanted to say. Help me. But her mouth was too dry, and she knew there wasn’t any help to be had. Then another cacophony of sound, walls disintegrating, people disintegrating. Blood was running across the floor.
Someone took her arms and was shaking her, and she tried to break free.
Then there was more screaming…but this time it was her.
“Leigh! Leigh!”
She woke up, and the light was on. There was a pounding on the door. She blinked in the bright glow as Hazard loomed over her. “Just a minute,” he shouted toward the door to their suite.
It had been a nightmare, a nightmare twisted into something dark and terrifying in her mind. She managed to shut down her thoughts, concentrating on his steadfast silver-blue eyes. Her pulse was heavy in her chest. She stared up at him. “I’m all right. Go answer the door before we have an embarrassing situation here.”
He stared at her, his breathing ragged, his jawline defined like he was clenching it. His hair was on his forehead, a ripe wheat color in the jarring light. He hesitated, and she shoved at him. “Go.”
He slipped out of bed and picked up his boxers, then left his room and went to the door. It gave her a moment to catch her breath, to settle her nerves. She heard concerned male voices and closed her eyes. How loud had she been screaming?
Her pulse had slowed, and her panic abated when she heard someone enter the room. The bed dipped and she opened her eyes. Hazard was sitting next to her. “That was a bad one,” he whispered as if he knew all about nightmares.
The ache in her throat intensified as she gazed up at him, and her voice was unsteady when she could speak. “Yes, a bad one.” A terrible feeling of distress slid over her. What was his name , whispered accusingly.
She stared up at him, a voice in her head demanding. Tell him. Tell him the reason. Tell him now. But another voice, a more objective voice, warned against acting rashly. If you tell him now, he’s going to supply the name. She couldn’t bear it. She’d tell him when she remembered. “I’m sorry about waking the whole damn floor.” She managed a hint of a smile.
He continued to stare at her, giving her a long look. He opened his mouth.
“Could you get me some water,” she asked.
He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, then rose and headed for the bathroom. Feeling so emotionally raw, she sighed when she heard the water running. She shivered at the memory of the nightmare, so close to what she had experienced, then shut her mind down.
She wouldn’t think about it right now. At least not until she had time to process it, not until she was able to deal with it rationally. Not until she could remember his name all on her own.
Her throat closed up as she accepted the water, and she took a long drink. Her anxiety got the best of her. What if she couldn’t remember? That thought twisted in her gut. How awful not to know the name of the man who had saved her, given his life for hers. It was so unbearable.
Hazard turned off the light, and he pulled her against him tightly, but even as he slipped back into sleep, she was just too afraid to close her eyes. That shadow waited for her in the darkness.