Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“And we’re locked up again.” Chris set a palm to the bedroom door, heaved out an exasperated sigh, then turned to face the room.
Harper had offered to bunk with Rory, but no way would Chris let Rory out of his sight.
So, Harper and Roman were now in a suite two doors down, maybe sharing a bed.
But knowing Roman, he’d sleep on the floor even though his knife wound had to be sore and uncomfortable.
The man was freakishly brilliant, but an idiot when it came to the woman he cared about.
Rory peeled off her sexy white tank top and flung it to one of the two armchairs by the wall alongside the door, then removed her strappy silver sandals.
Like a magnet, his eyes flew to the scar near her belly button, a reminder of the dangerous life she once lived and was now thrown back into.
“Are you going to look at me with pity every time I take off my shirt?” Rory’s words stole his focus straight up to her face, and he replayed her question in his head to ensure he’d heard her correctly.
Chris reached her in three quick strides and circled one arm around her waist while his other hand gently guided her chin up.
Looking into her eyes so she would fully grasp his sincerity, he said, “Pity is the last thing on my mind. Anger toward the bastard who hurt you, yes, but never pity. After everything I’ve seen you go through, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve met in my life.
The most amazing, kind, and compassionate woman, too.
” His hand traveled to her cheek, and when he smoothed his palm over her skin, she leaned into his touch.
“You’re amazing and strong, too, you know,” she whispered, nuzzling her face against his hand and closing her eyes as if relishing in their closeness.
“I’m not so tough. I’m the one who fell out of bed and pulled a gun on you just last week.” It’d only been a handful of days plus one kidnapping and nearly naked plank walk ago, but shit, he was never going to forget that.
Her lids parted to reveal hazel eyes intently focused on him. “You’re human. You’ve been through so much, and I admire the hell out of you.” Rory mirrored his gesture, lifting a palm and caressing his cheek.
And you still want me to get therapy? He couldn’t voice the question quite yet. But maybe she was right. Maybe after all of this, he needed to man up and face his demons.
Demons of his own making because he was so terrified a woman would abandon him like his mom had.
But hell, maybe he was equally as petrified he’d do the running.
That he’d be like his mom, and in a way, he had become like her, hadn’t he?
He’d never settled down. Never stayed in a relationship, not even before he was on Echo Team.
And he’d never fallen in love. Mostly because he hadn’t allowed it.
But Rory . . . she was different. She deserved someone without his mother’s baggage haunting him. Someone who didn’t grab their gun while sleeping because they were triggered by a movie.
“You’ve been my rock in all of this. You know that, right?
I can’t imagine how I would have faced all of this without you,” she said softly.
He lowered his arm and lightly smoothed his hand along the soft skin of her shoulder.
“Tonight was harder than dealing with the Trott brothers or those painful shoes.”
I knew those shoes were hurting her feet, damn it. “Everything you learned from Carter . . . tonight was heavy. I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling.”
Rory wet her lips, her eyes dipping to his mouth.
She surprised him by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“I’m feeling both lost and found.” The slight crook of her mouth into a part frown, part smile, did make her appear a bit lost and unsure.
“Knowing the truth is eye-opening, but I’m still so confused about everything.
” She reached out and took his hand from her waist and laced their fingers together.
“I’ve got you, I promise,” he murmured and set a kiss to her lips.
“Thank you.” She smiled and stepped back, giving him the opportunity to drink her in. How had he gotten so lucky? “And that goes both ways. I’ve got you, too.” She ran her hand down the column of her throat, skimming over the soft skin of her breasts, continuing to her abdomen.
The sight of her breasts rising, her creamy skin looking as though it might spill over the top of her white lacy bra when she drew in a deep breath reminded him of Friday when they were safe and sound in Virginia. That night he’d circled his tongue around each rosebud nipple.
“We’re going to get through this,” she said, interrupting his thoughts of how responsive her body was to his touch, how easily he was able to throw her over the edge into bliss.
“You know, I miss Bear already.” She removed the rest of her clothes, undressing in front of him to change into pajamas as if they were a normal couple going through the motions of getting ready for bed.
He had no clothes in that room, so he stripped down to boxers. “And I miss what we had in Virginia.”
“We still have it.” He approached and stopped behind where she stood in front of the vanity mirror in a thin, pale-pink nightgown that fell to her mid-thighs. He set a kiss to her shoulder and met her eyes in the mirror. “And I miss Bear, too.”
“I so hate myself for being tired right now,” she said after a soft groan of regret. “Emotionally and physically drained.”
“Yeah, we should sleep.” We can’t have sex for the first time here, under Carter’s roof. He swallowed. Probably not. That didn’t stop him from eying her nipples straining against the silk fabric or keep him from sliding his hand up her thigh as she brought her back flush to his chest.
An achy need had his cock hard and tense against her, but no, they couldn’t, not now . . .
“Let’s get you to bed,” he forced out before he allowed his hand to move any higher and slip beneath her panties because there would be no going back at that point.
She let out a soft sigh of pained surrender. They both wanted each other. Needed each other. But the wait would be worth it.
They climbed into the bed a few minutes later, and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her frame tight to his body, feeling a semblance of normality despite their situation.
Their first time in a bed together, and they were doing so under the “protection” of a criminal. Life was . . . strange, sometimes. Okay, in his life, a lot of the time.
He had no idea when he dozed off because having her warm body in his arms had been bliss, but when he opened his eyes, morning was on the verge of arriving.
It was the time of day when, during an operation, he and the boys had to make a quick infil and an even quicker exfil out of fear of daylight giving away their presence.
The sun was about thirty minutes away from rising.
It took Chris a moment to remember where he was and why he was there.
At some point during the night, Rory wound up on her stomach with the covers shoved to the bottom of the bed. It looked like they both preferred to be cool.
Her hands were now on each side of the pillow, and her face turned to the side. The material of her nightgown had shifted all the way up to show off her panties and perfect ass. Even though the room was still mostly dark, he didn’t need much light to make out the silhouette of her beautiful body.
And damn if he was growing hard being so close to her.
He’d been exhausted last night. Shipwrecked on a nearly deserted island and facing smugglers slash pirates before being “rescued” by Carter’s men had done a number on them.
They’d needed a good night’s sleep, and now that they’d had one, all he wanted to do was hold her.
Touch her. Be near her. But he didn’t want to wake her.
He rolled to his back and propped one arm beneath his head, doing his best to be a good boy, but his cock was at attention and poking through the hole in his black boxer briefs.
He adjusted himself and kept his gaze on Rory, wondering what life would be like with her.
He could see them together in the future.
And she wouldn’t run. She wasn’t his mom.
My mom. He’d nearly forgotten about her voicemail last Thursday. It shouldn’t have been in his head even now, and her transgressions shouldn’t have been in his thoughts at the table last night, but she kept infiltrating his mind, and he hated it.
“Please tell me we’re in your room in Virginia and not in Carter’s house,” Rory said, eyes still closed, but she shifted a palm to his pectoral muscle.
He brought a hand over hers and united their fingers. “Unfortunately, we’re not at my home.”
She kept her eyes closed and whispered, “Lie to me?”
He moved to his side, holding her hand while slowly skirting his other palm up the small of her back.
The scars were too faded with age to feel rough beneath his fingers, but he’d never forget they were there.
He’d forever be able to trace their lines and regret she’d gone through that awful experience.
“We’re on my bed back in Virginia. I bought a new one. Much more comfortable since you’ll be sleeping with me every night,” he said, his tone low and deep.
“Every night, huh?” Her words came out like a soft purr filled with desire and the promise of sex.
He cupped her bottom, then slid a finger beneath the panty line to find her center. She arched her back in response, allowing him greater access to dip inside. To stroke her sensitive flesh.
“Keep lying to me,” she urged. Her Southern accent was sweet and feminine, but when her tone dipped to a husky rasp, an extra shot of desire coursed through him. Chris eased his body closer to hers, his cock thick against her leg.
He released her hand to prop up his head with two pillows so he could watch her come undone with his hand on her wet pussy.