Chapter 25
A t first, he thought she was just turning over in her sleep, but then she whimpered—a sound so soft and broken it pulled him fully awake.
Her breathing quickened, shallow and panicked. One of her arms flung out, hitting his side as she twisted in the sheet.
“Hannah,” he said, sitting up, instantly alert.
She jerked again, her entire body tensing. “No! No, please…”
Tom reached for her, his hand on her shoulder, then her cheek. “Hannah, wake up.”
She gasped, still caught in the grip of her nightmare.
“Tom? Don’t go…”
The plaintive cry made his chest tighten.
“Hannah? Hannah, wake up. You’re dreaming.”
Her eyes flew open, wild and unfocused in the dark. Seeing his shadow, she scrambled backward, pressing herself against the wall. Her chest rose and fell like she’d run a mile.
“Who—?” she panted.
“It’s me,” he said gently, moving slowly so he didn’t scare her anymore than she already was. “It’s Tom. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Her eyes locked onto his. Her breathing was ragged. She blinked and looked around the room, slowly realizing where she was. Who he was.
“Oh, thank God.” Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. “I thought—I thought we were still out there. I saw the soldier again, the one who fell. He looked at me, Tom. He looked right at me before he went over.”
Tom slid closer and wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t resist. In fact, she clung to him like she was drowning, and he was the only thing keeping her afloat. He rested his chin atop her head, his hand running slowly down her back.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “It’s over. You’re okay.”
She nodded against his chest, still shaking. “I thought I’d lost you. I couldn’t breathe.”
His throat tightened and he held her closer, absorbing her fear. Wishing he could make it disappear but knowing he couldn’t.
He’d had similar nightmares himself, after the ambush. The faces of his team had haunted his dreams for weeks. He’d wake up yelling their names, covered in sweat.
It was hell.
“I’m right here,” he murmured again. “It was just a dream.”
A long moment passed where she didn’t move. He could feel her hands fisting in his shirt, the tension in her body. He stroked her back, whispering that it was all going to be okay, and slowly, he felt her relax.
Finally, she gave a little shudder and released him. Her cheeks were wet with tears.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I’ve been there.”
PTSD, the doctor had said. A trauma response. He’d felt broken, powerless, strewn with guilt. Thankfully, it wasn’t permanent. He rarely had those nightmares anymore, although the guilt lingered. He’d never get rid of that, and in in a dark, twisted way, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
A nod. “Of course you have. My experience is nothing compared to what you?—”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said roughly. “I just meant, I understand what you’re going through. It’s tough, but it’ll get easier.”
She bit her lip, drawing his gaze. “You have nightmares too?”
He hesitated. “I used to.”
“Why? What happened?”
He sensed her need to talk, her need for normalcy, but this conversation was anything but normal.
“Please, Tom. Tell me what happened to you. I want to know.”
He sucked in a breath.
Fuck. Here he was dragging her through hell to get her off the island. The least he could do was tell her why he was here to begin with.
“It started in Kabul,” he began, his voice unsteady. It had been a while since he’d talked about this, and not to anyone other than his doctor right after he’d been hospitalized. Back when it was still so raw.
She nodded, shifting closer so she could hear better. He steeled himself for the emotions he knew would come crashing down, railroading him again. Maybe if he turned on the lamp, it would be easier but then he decided against it. Secrets were easier to tell in the dark.
“I had a contact there,” he said, his voice low. “A woman. Her name was Amrain. She was a nurse at one of the clinics. I met her when I took a member of my team there for treatment. When I realized she had ties to the Taliban, I decided to befriend her.”
He glanced away, so she wouldn’t see the pain.
“Go on...” she whispered, reaching out and taking his hand. Her touch was cool, soft. It helped.
He cleared his throat. “I asked her to spy on someone for me. A suspected Taliban leader. She agreed, and I promised to protect her.” He paused, struggling to find the words.
“What happened?”
“They got to her,” he said, bitterly. “Threatened her family if she didn’t betray me. So she led me into a trap. Said she had information on the whereabouts of the men we were after. I believed her and we arranged a raid. We were going to go in and take them out.”
His voice hardened. “We walked straight into a fucking ambush. They were waiting for us. Opened fire as we walked into the place.”
She gasped.
“My team was annihilated. Didn’t stand a chance. They left us for dead.”
Her hand around his tightened.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He felt the anger, the bitterness, and the guilt wash over him, and belatedly realized he was gripping her hand so tight his own was going numb. “By rights, I should have died with them that day.” He should have bled out on the concrete warehouse floor with his team. His brothers.
Struggling for control, he loosened his grip.
“How did you survive?” Her voice trembled.
For him. She was worried for him.
It was a foreign feeling, and one he wasn’t comfortable with. Nobody had cared about him like that in a long time.
“I’d been shot but I was conscious—just. A passer-by heard the gunfire and called the police. They sent for the paramedics, and I was taken to hospital. From there I was airlifted to the nearest naval base.”
“Thank God they got to you in time. Were you badly injured?”
“I got shot in the shoulder. The impact spun me around, and I took another bullet in the back before I collapsed.”
A punctured lung. Two major operations. Months of rehab.
Her eyes widened. “It’s a miracle you survived.”
He nodded. Miracle. Mercy. Or just damned bad luck. The jury was still out.
“What happened to the woman?” she whispered. “Amrain?”
His voice was flat. “She was already dead. They executed her once she’d made the phone call.”
She didn’t say anything—didn’t have to. He felt her sympathy.
Her concern. She moved forward, embracing him.
He stiffened as her arms went around his neck, and almost pulled back, but something made him stay there.
She didn’t move, didn’t speak, just held him, like he’d held her, until the waves of pain eased.
Without meaning to, he drew comfort from her body. He’d been holding it in for so long—the anguish, the guilt. It was exhausting. Wordlessly, he rested his head against hers.
They stayed that way for a long time, until the air around them shifted. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of the softness of her curves, and the gentleness with which she held him. Her fingers had somehow snaked into his hair, and she was arching in toward him, pressing herself close.
He sucked in a breath and straightened up. Her warmth, her scent lingered.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said, moving away. “That’s why they posted me to the embassy. I’m not fit for active duty.”
She snorted, and it lightened the mood. “You sure fooled me.”
Yesterday had hardly been a walk in the park.
They stared at each other through the thin beam of light that crept in beneath the blinds. Tom didn’t know who moved first, but it didn’t matter. The moment their mouths met, something inside him snapped.
All the pent-up emotion he’d been carrying around with him for the last few days erupted in a volcano of need and desire. He crushed his lips against hers, and she opened for him with a soft moan.
She tasted as sweet as he remembered, and he devoured her mouth like a man starved. Her hand curled around the back of his neck, his slid to her waist, pulling her even closer.
The room disappeared. The war. The danger. Even the mission. It was just her—soft, real, and alive in his arms.
He deepened the kiss, savoring her, letting it sweep through him like wildfire. She wasn’t passive either. She responded with hunger, kissing him back like she’d been waiting for this, needing it as much as he did.
His hand slid up her side, over her ribs, feeling the rise and fall of her breath. She arched into his touch instinctively, and that small, unconscious movement nearly undid him. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose it entirely.
“Hannah—” he gasped, when they came up for air.
“Please… I need this, Tom. I need to feel something other than… fear.”
He got it, he really did, and had he been thinking clearer, he might have objected, but right now, as his lips found hers again, all rational thought vanished.
He was in the moment. Drowning in her hot, sensual femininity.
She shifted so she was sitting in his lap, one leg crossed over his thigh. It was close, intimate. He could feel her heat against his hips as she anchored herself to him. As if letting go wasn’t an option.
He felt her hands on his back, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades like she needed him as much as he needed her.
With a groan, he released her mouth and kissed his way down her neck. She tilted her head back to give him better access, her hair tumbling down over his hands. He grabbed a fistful, tugging gently.
Christ, she was beautiful.
He couldn’t stop kissing her, tasting her, working his way down to where her shirt hung off the shoulder. Her fingers fiddled with the remaining buttons, and then it fell open.
Goddamn.
One hand cupped her left breast, while his lips found her right nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, exploring the taut nub with his tongue. She gave a little cry of pleasure, and he felt a jolt of heat run straight down to his groin.
Everything about her was soft and warm, and he couldn’t get enough. She writhed against him, desperate for contact, but when she felt the size of his erection, her eyes flew open.
He looked up, “Can’t help it. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” she whispered, and rubbed her core against it. He groaned, clutching her waist with both hands.
“Shit, Hannah. If you keep doing that?—”
He found her mouth again, their breath tangling as their tongues danced.
Wanting to feel her, he moved his hand down and cupped her sex underneath the soft, linen pants she still wore.
“Oh, God. Tom…” she murmured, her thighs opening wider, legs locked around him.
He slipped his fingers into her folds.
Damn, she was wet.
Knowing it was for him, nearly made him come right then and there. Somehow, he hung on. He knew she needed this, needed the release—and darn if she didn’t feel good.
He stroked her slickness until she was writhing back and forth against his hand in jerky little movements. He felt the tension inside her build. She’d been so pent up, so terrified by the events of the last few days, that she needed this release.
Faster and faster, until her breath was coming in short gasps, and she clung to him, her hands gripping his shoulders like her life depended on it.
“I’m close,” she murmured, her eyes glazed. Tom had never seen anything so beautiful as this woman losing herself to the ecstasy that he was giving her.
She rode his hand, lips parted, thighs trembling with tension. He groaned, his own erection painfully throbbing against his pants. If he didn’t bury himself inside of her right now, he was going to go insane.
He withdrew his hand. She gave a sob. “Oh, God, don’t stop. Please...”
He kicked off his combat fatigues. “Darling, if I don’t get inside you now, I’m going to lose my mind.”
She groaned, feverish with desire. “Hurry up, then.”
“I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill. It’s okay.”
“You sure?”
She nodded, her arms already reaching for him, clawing at his shirt.
“Good, because when you explode, I want it to be around me.”
He peeled it off, not caring where it landed. They crashed together again, skin against skin, tongue melding with tongue.
After another mind-blowing kiss, his positioned himself between her legs. “Ready?”
“So ready,” she gasped.
He slid inside, just a little, trying to go slow. He didn’t want to hurt her. He needn’t have worried, she arched upwards, impaling herself on his cock, gripping him with her legs. He sucked in a breath at the sudden tightness, heat radiating into his groin and through his body.
Holy fuck, she felt good.
He thrust harder, feeling her fingers digging into his butt, drawing him in. He bit back a growl as all self-control vanished. Soon he was grinding against her, plunging in to the hilt, floating on the sensations building inside of him.
He heard her cry out and knew she was going to come. Thank God, because he was about to explode too. He rode her to a frenzy, until they were one gyrating, sweaty mess of uncontrolled desire.
It shouldn’t feel this good. They’d only known each other for a few days, but he felt like they were joined, connected by some mysterious force that bound them together. Not even a deadly secret or a civil war could prevent this from happening.
He pushed harder, deeper until she was crying out his name with almost every breath.
“Tom!” she cried, convulsing around him. He felt her whole body shake as her orgasm hit. And he watched, in wonder, as she came undone.
It was so damn sexy, it sent him careening over the edge. The hot tension released, and fireworks exploded behind his eyes. He clutched onto her as he rode it out, shuddering with every stroke. His entire body tingled with electricity, he was a live wire, his nerves firing faster than an AK-47.
He tensed as the current swept over him. He kept pounding into her until he couldn’t anymore, and then he collapsed. He felt her heart hammering beneath his.
He leaned in and kissed her with a sense of wonder. She smiled against his lips and kissed him back. Tenderly, sensually. For a brief moment, Tom felt something close to heaven.