Chapter 21
Jo was shaking, blood streaming down her calf and onto her tennis shoe, but it was the image of Sloan’s arm dangling from its socket that terrorized her.
She knew it was a prosthesis, but with it on, at least he looked whole. Once it was off, she could no longer pretend he wasn’t broken, that everything about him was the same as it always had been.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “How bad did he get you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see it.”
“I’ll pull over as soon as I can.” He was swerving through the wet streets, snow having changed to rain that now fell heavily as he passed slower cars and flew up an expressway ramp. “Just need to make sure we lost them. Thank God we got rid of the Winnebago.”
He accelerated on the highway, and she closed her eyes against a wave of nausea, keeping them that way for several minutes until she felt him descend on the curving exit ramp.
“I think we’re safe,” he said. A hotel sign shone down the street, and he pulled into the parking lot.
“No one followed us off the expressway.” He turned the interior light on. “Let me see your foot.”
She lifted her leg, bending it over the center console. “It’s more like my calf and ankle.”
He pulled it toward him, turning it slowly in the light, blood everywhere. “I have some first aid supplies in my pack, but I’d rather clean it out in the room so I can get a good look at the damage.”
She nodded, pulling her leg back to her side of the car as he drove to the hotel, parked, and went inside to check in. He emerged several minutes later, grabbed his rucksack and prosthetic, and nodded toward her bag. “I can’t carry any more right now.”
“Oh, right,” she said awkwardly, hyperconscious of his missing arm. “It’s no problem. I’ve got it.” She followed him through the hotel.
“I got adjoining rooms. Come in and let me take a look at that leg.” He opened the door and held it for her to enter. “Why don’t you sit on the edge of the bathtub?”
“Sure.” She sat down and peeled off her bloody tennis shoe. A moment later, Sloan entered, dropping his rucksack on the ground. He was shirtless, with his prosthetic arm now reattached and a leather strap holding it in place.
Sweet mother of God.
His chest was more muscular than it had been when they were kids, a light dusting of dark hair accentuating his defined pecs and abs before disappearing at the waistband of his jeans.
He was stocky and solid; every inch of him was pure, strong man.
She swallowed against the dryness in her throat as he grabbed a cup off the sink and sat beside her on the edge of the tub.
He smelled spicy and male, the scent instantly registering on her senses like an alarm piercing the air. He turned on the water, waited for it to warm up, then filled the cup and rinsed away the blood a little at a time. “Does that hurt?”
“No.”
He reached for a towel and placed it over his thigh before picking up her leg and gently placing it across his lap.
He patted it dry with the towel, several gashes and a deep gouge marring her skin.
His thumb slid along the sensitive flesh beside her injuries, and she sucked in a breath at his touch.
He did it again, his gaze fixed on the bites. “I almost didn’t get you out of there in time.”
“But you did.”
He shot her a harsh look before reaching for his pack. “Barely.” He took out bandages and first aid cream.
“Sloan, if it hadn’t been for you, I would have been dog food.”
He applied cream to the bandages and carefully placed them on the wounds. “My damn arm fell off.”
“So what?”
“Don’t patronize me, Jo.”
“Patronize you how? You saved me. You pulled me over the fence and saved me from that dog.”
“These wounds are deep. Another minute and who knows what that animal might have done?”
“But he didn’t—”
“Stop pretending it doesn’t matter that I fucked up, okay? Stop acting like you didn’t notice that it almost got you killed.” Finished with her bandages, he put her leg down and stood. “I was there. I know exactly what happened.”
She followed him out of the bathroom. “So, let me get this straight. In your mind, you nearly got me killed because you were injured fighting for our country and that somehow makes you a bad person who can’t be trusted with my care.”
He’d walked away from her and now stood gazing out the window, his body silhouetted against the pane, hands on his hips. “I thought I could make a difference working for HERO Force.”
She cocked her head, desperate to keep up with this change in conversation. She approached him. “Go on.”
“I thought it wouldn’t matter that I only had one arm. I had a good prosthetic. I could fire a gun. I could still fight the bad guys and come back begging for more.” He shook his head. “But it isn’t true.”
“A few dog bites, and you’re questioning your choice of career?”
“It’s not the first time. I was down in Mexico on a mission. Damn near got my friend and two innocent civilians killed for the same reason. I was lucky I didn’t hurt anyone else like I almost did today.”
His pain was palpable, and she longed to take it away, absolve him of this sin he clearly hadn’t committed. She reached out and tentatively laid her hand on his back. “I’ll bet you helped them.”
He turned around quickly, brushing off her hand in the process.
“No, Jo. This story doesn’t have a happy ending.
I’ve been struggling for a long time, hiding behind a joke and pretending I fit in with the other guys.
Hell, I think I was struggling even before that.
First I lost you, then I lost the SEALs.
I didn’t think I could lose anything I loved again. ”
In that moment, she needed to soothe his pain just as he’d soothed hers.
She closed the distance between them, going up on tiptoe to take his mouth in a kiss that conveyed every bit of passion she was feeling in her heart.
He hesitated, and she feared he’d pull back.
Her arms snaked up his chest to hold him to her, her lips and tongue demanding he respond.
Damn it, I know you remember how good we could be together. Show me. Show me you remember.
This was what she wanted, she could see so clearly now. Gone were her fears of being hurt by him again. She was already hurting, and she would go on hurting. She might as well enjoy him while she could.
His good arm came around her waist, holding her there, and his prosthetic did the same on the other side. She was hyperaware he couldn’t feel anything with that limb, and she desperately wanted him to feel every inch of her body with every inch of her own. “Can I take this off?”
He leaned back, breaking their kiss. “Why?”
“It isn’t you. I want to feel you.”
He set her aside. “It’s part of me now.”
“No, I just meant…” Her voice trailed off. She could see she’d made a horrible mistake, only intensifying his emotional moment. “I’m sorry.” She closed the distance between them and touched his chest lightly with her palm. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
She swallowed against her discomfiture. “I want to kiss you.” His expression told her he was angry, torn between taking her offer and walking away. She licked her lips. She had to try again. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed about kissing you? Being back in your arms, just one more time?”
“Arm. Singular.”
“I don’t care about that. You’re still you. That’s what I really wanted.”
His eyes darkened, his gaze slipping down her face to her lips, hovering there. “I dreamed of you, too.” His hand slipped into the hair at the nape of her neck, lifting her face to his. “But my dreams didn’t stop at kissing.”
Adrenaline surged into her bloodstream, a pulse beating between her legs. Memories of him swarmed like bees, from the first time he penetrated her, taking her virginity, to the desperation of teenage lust, searching for release.
His hand moved from her neck to her collarbone, trailing sensation as he traced the outline of her breast and moved lower. His big hand slid around her midriff and farther to cup her derriere.
Her eyelids grew heavy as he held her against his hardening erection, and she fitted her torso more completely against his, her arms coming to circle his neck as she kissed his jaw, his stubble abrading her lips.
Then he was kissing her, deep, demanding kisses that flooded all rational thought. There was only feeling, only emotion, only the desperate need to be as close to him as possible.
His hands slipped under her shirt, lifting it over her head in one smooth motion. His hand moved to her lace-covered breast, taking its fullness in his palm and kneading it before circling her nipple with his thumb.
Her back arched in response, thrusting her rib cage closer to him, and he pulled the cup of her bra down to expose her fully. She felt the warmth of his breath before he took her in his mouth, licking and suckling her deep.
She bucked wildly against him, desperate for these feelings only he could bring, and her nails dug into the flesh of his lower back. “Sloan,” she said on a moan, needing him to know what he was doing to her, needing to connect with him even more than he was doing now.
His head came up and he kissed her, lifting her with his powerful arm and all but dragging her to the bed. He followed her down, the planes of his body accentuated by shadow, and she reached out to touch every inch of his flesh.
The scent of his body was heady and familiar as her hands raked over his chest. She bent to kiss his nipple, the taste of his salty skin further fanning her desire. She moved up to his neck, kissing him there as her hands reached down to unbutton his jeans.
“Jesus, Jo,” he ground out under his breath, helping her get his pants off and shucking them down his legs.
He wore black briefs, his cock tenting the fabric, and her hands moved over it, outlining his sensitive shaft and cupping his balls before stroking them tenderly.
His breath caught, its rhythm faster now, and she longed to push him closer to the edge. Sliding her body down the bed, she kissed him through the fabric where her hands had been, loving how he cursed and twisted beneath her.
She hadn’t given oral sex in years, hadn’t wanted to, but now she was as desperate to taste him as she was to receive his attention.
Slipping her hand beneath the material, she fisted her fingers around his firm shaft and breathed heavily on the fabric-covered tip.
“God, yes,” he ground out, and she pulled down the waistband, exposing him completely.
His cock was glorious, thick and wide, and she licked the bulbous head before taking him in her mouth, instantly remembering what he liked. She teased him, sinking onto him slowly before taking as much as she could and loving every groan and hiss of his reaction.
Then he was pulling her up, wrestling her onto her back and assaulting her with a sensual attack. His mouth was back on her breast while his hand moved down to skillfully stroke the sensitive seam of her sex. Her legs fell open at his touch, hungry for more.
His stubble lightly abraded her abdomen as he moved lower, reverently kissing her skin until he reached the inside of her thigh and stopped. “So beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers tracing her swollen lips before slowly slipping deep inside her.
She bucked against the mattress. Then his tongue was on her clitoris, a wave of sensation building as his fingers moved to the rhythm of his mouth.
No one else had loved her like this. No one had tasted and touched as if he were receiving a precious gift, and she longed to hold him inside her and never let go. “Please,” she begged, not wanting to reach orgasm without him. “I need you now.”
He rolled onto his back beside her and she straddled him, experiencing only a flash of concern as she sank down on his bare shaft. She thought of the condom in his wallet. They had never used one before, but she’d been on the pill back when they’d been dating. She wasn’t on the pill now.
He filled her completely, and it felt so deliciously good she couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. It was lunacy and she knew it, consequences be damned.
His hands moved to her waist and she instinctively jerked away from his cold prosthetic, but he held her there, moving her hips onto him as he thrust beneath her.
She was frantic now, her body racing toward release, and she pumped as quickly as she could until the orgasm came, unable to move in the moment.
He flipped her over, bracing himself on his good arm as he drove into her again and again, finally joining her in sexual oblivion.