CHAPTER 9 #2
She kisses me. Soft at first—testing, questioning. Then her hands fist in my shirt and she's pulling me closer.
I kiss her back, trying to show her what I can't say. That I'd burn the world down to keep her safe. That she's everything.
When we break apart, her pupils are blown wide, her chest heaving.
"Take me to bed," she whispers. "I need to feel alive."
I know what she means. After combat, after staring down death, you need proof you survived.
I lift her, and her legs wrap around my waist instinctively. She's clinging to me, face buried in my neck, breathing hard. I can feel her trembling.
In the bedroom, I set her down gently. She doesn't let go immediately.
"Hey." I cup her face, tilting it up. "We've got time. No rush."
"I just—" She closes her eyes. "I need you close."
"I'm not going anywhere."
She takes a shaky breath, then pulls back. Her hands go to the hem of her shirt, and she strips it off. No bra. Just bare skin and the evidence of a life hard-lived—scars she's earned, ink she's chosen.
The tattoo on her hip catches my eye. Semper Fi. Always faithful.
She watches me looking at her, and there's vulnerability in her eyes now. Not shame. But rawness. Like she's letting me see all of her, not just the strong parts.
"You're staring," she says quietly.
"Can't help it." I step closer, tracing the scar across her ribs with my fingertips. "Every mark tells a story. Want to know all of them."
"That might take a while."
"Good. I'm not going anywhere."
She shivers under my touch. Her hands find my shirt, tugging. "Your turn."
I pull it off, and her breath catches. She reaches out, fingers trailing over the shrapnel scars on my chest, the burn mark on my shoulder, the surgical scar on my side.
"We match," she says softly. "Warriors."
"Yeah. We do."
She leans in and presses her lips to the worst scar—the one that ended my career. The touch is gentle, reverent. Like she's kissing the wound, accepting it.
Something in my chest cracks open.
I frame her face with both hands and kiss her. Slow. Deep. Trying to pour everything I feel into it. She melts against me, and we're shedding the rest of our clothes between kisses, fumbling and urgent.
When we're finally bare, I walk her backward to the bed. We sink down together, and for a moment we just look at each other.
"I'm scared," she admits.
"Of this?"
"Of losing this. Losing you." Her voice cracks. "I just got you."
"You're not losing me." I brush her hair back. "I'm yours. For as long as you'll have me."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She pulls me down into another kiss, and this time there's no hesitation. She's opening for me, inviting me in, and I'm lost.
I map her body with my hands—the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine, the strong muscles of her thighs. She's all lean strength and soft skin, contradictions that make me want to learn every inch.
When my mouth finds her breast, she arches up with a gasp. I take my time, discovering what makes her whimper, what makes her nails dig into my shoulders.
"Timothy." My name is a plea.
"Tell me what you need."
"You. Just you."
I kiss my way down her stomach, and when I reach the apex of her thighs, I pause. Look up at her.
She's watching me, chest heaving, eyes dark with want.
"Please," she breathes.
I spread her open with my thumbs and taste her. She's already wet, already wanting, and the sound she makes goes straight to my cock.
I take my time this round—no rush, just slow, deliberate attention. Learning her rhythm, finding what makes her hips roll, what makes her thighs shake. When she's close, I ease back, drawing it out.
"Don't tease," she gasps.
"Not teasing. Savoring."
I build her up again, then ease off. Again. Until she's cursing me, begging, hands fisted in the sheets.
"Timothy, please, I need—"
"I know what you need."
This time when she crests, I don't stop. I work her through it as she comes apart, crying out, back arching off the bed. She's still shaking when I kiss my way back up her body.
"Okay?" I ask against her lips.
"More than okay." Her voice is wrecked. "But I need you inside me. Now."
I reach for the nightstand, but she stops me.
"Wait." She pushes at my chest. She guides me onto my back, and then she's kissing down my chest, my stomach. When her hand wraps around my cock, I hiss through my teeth.
"Carla—"
"Shh. Let me make you feel good."
She does. Her mouth is hot and wet and perfect, and the sight of her between my thighs, looking up at me through her lashes, nearly undoes me.
"Stop." My voice is rough. "I'm too close."
She releases me with a final lick that makes me groan. "Good."
I grab the condom, hands shaking slightly. She helps me roll it on, her touch gentle, and then she's straddling me.
"Like this," she says. "I need to see you."
She sinks down slowly, taking me inch by inch. We both groan at the sensation. She's tight and hot, and I have to grip her hips to keep from losing control.
"Okay?" I manage.
"Yeah." She starts to move, rolling her hips. "Better than okay."
I let her set the pace—slow at first, finding her rhythm. She's gorgeous like this, head thrown back, hands on my chest for balance, taking what she needs.
When I reach between us to touch her, she gasps and picks up speed.
"That's it," I encourage. "Take it. Take what you need."
She rides me harder, chasing her pleasure, and I'm mesmerized. This strong, beautiful woman who trusted me enough to let me in. Who's claiming me as much as I'm claiming her.
"Timothy—" She's close. I can feel it.
"I've got you. Let go."
When she comes, she takes me with her. We're both cursing, clutching at each other, and I'm pulling her down for a desperate kiss as we ride it out together.
After, she collapses on my chest, both of us struggling to breathe. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close.
"That was—" She can't finish.
"Yeah."
We lie there for a long moment. Eventually, I ease her off me to deal with the condom, then pull her back into my arms.
"Timothy?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For fighting for me. For keeping me safe. For making me feel like I'm worth something."
I tilt her chin up. "You are worth something. You're worth everything."
Her eyes shine with unshed tears. "I love you."
"I love you too." I kiss her forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll be right here."
She nods against my chest, already drifting. Within minutes, her breathing evens out.
I lie awake, one hand stroking her hair, thinking about the future. About building a life with this woman. About all the ways I'm going to prove to her that she's safe now. That she's loved. That she's home.
For the first time since I left the Army, I know exactly what I'm supposed to be doing.
Protecting her. Loving her. Building something real.
I press a kiss to her hair and finally let myself sleep.