Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
W ith every step, Willow bit back a groan. It didn’t matter what the price of pain would be, she aimed herself at the hill above her that Shep and David had disappeared behind. Her jeans were blood-soaked at the knees, the tears in the fabric flapping in the air with every step, and she knew she had cut the hell out of herself. She carried her .45, locked and loaded, not sure if all of David’s men had been captured yet or not. Was Shep dead or alive? Tears burned in her eyes, and she gulped, willing them away.
Two men emerged around the curve of the hill.
Willow anchored. Shep! And Luke! They saw her! In moments, both of them were trotting toward her. A sob caught in her throat, and she swayed to a stop, unchambering the bullet from the .45, safing and placing the gun in her go bag. By the time she’d straightened and shrugged it back across her shoulders, Shep had stopped trotting and was sprinting toward her as best he could with the M4 slung across his shoulder, the look on his face one of utter relief. As he neared, she smiled brokenly, holding out her hands toward him.
In seconds, he was there, wrapping his strong arms around her, hauling her against him, squeezing her so hard the breath whooshed out of her. Sliding her arms around his broad shoulders, her still shocked senses amplified everything: she could smell the sweat on him, the dampness of his shirt beneath her cheek, the perspiration on his jaw and his own cheek against her brow.
“…. Shep!” she managed, burying her face against his chest as he gently eased his grip, keeping his hands around her waist, making sure she was steady enough to remain on her feet.
“I’m here,” he choked out, cupping her jaw, his gaze naked with terror and relief. “You’re safe, Willow… safe. I love you so damned much,” and he leaned down, capturing her lips, kissing her hard, drinking in her breath and trading his own with hers, the taste of life, the love they shared tunneling through both of them.
Everything halted for Willow. She no longer sensed anything else around her; didn’t feel the warming breeze that came with the sun rising, heating the ruddy Ethiopian soil around them, didn’t hear the birds flying overhead, chirping madly above them. All she wanted was Shep’s mouth cherishing hers. His calloused, work-worn hands framed her face. The love he held for her alone was broadcast with every touch, every punctuated moist breath against her cheek, telling her how much he treasured her. His kiss was hungry and needful, but then, as if realizing her condition, he softened his mouth against hers. Within his arms she felt so fragile that she might break. How injured was she?
They separated slightly. Willow felt dizzied by her relief that Shep was alive. She stepped back, still in his grip, whispering, “I love you so much… so much… I thought you might die…”
He groaned. “Willow, I was terrified for your life…” He stopped. Looking deeply into her eyes, he rasped unsteadily, “We were meant for one another. And if we didn’t know it before? We know it now…”
A sob tore from her as she sank back against him, his body strong and supportive whereas she felt like she was falling apart, piece by piece. It felt so good to be able to put her arms around his torso, squeeze and hold him, his one hand around her waist, and the other ranging slowly up and down her back, as if to sooth away the terror that still inhabited her. Willow lost track of time. Shep was the center of her universe. Eventually, she became aware of the pain in her knees and awkwardly stepped out of his arms.
“You’re pretty cut up,” Shep said worriedly, holding her arm as he scowled and examined her bloodied knees.
“They hurt like hell.” Willow saw Luke trot up to them, his face glistening with sweat, his expression grim with concern.
“Are you all right, Willow?” he asked, coming to a halt, rapidly assessing her from head to toe.
“I’m getting there, Luke.”
“The general landed the helo up at the airstrip,” Luke told her. “Let’s get you up there. Your next stop is the emergency room at the Bahir Dar hospital. He’ll fly you in. Land right on the helipad next to it.”
“Sounds good, Luke. Then? All I want to do is go home afterward,” Willow whispered wearily. She glanced over at Shep. “And be with you… that’s all I’ll ever need…”
***
“How do you feel now?” Shep asked Willow. There were waterproof bandages around each of her injured knees and she’d been able to take a long, hot, luxurious bath to soak all the soreness and stiffness out of her body, first thing after arriving at her condo.
Willow lifted her lashes, taking his hand to step carefully out of the large tub. “So much better…” He slowly eased out of the tub and onto the soft pink rug beside it.
Shep watched her closely. Willow had swollen, dark-purple-and-blue bruise lines across her shoulders and abdomen from when the harness had bit deeply into her flesh during the crash-landing of the Otter. That harness had saved her life. She would have at least been stunned without it, and David’s men would have had her, an option far worse than merely dying in the crash. Later, she had fallen several times during her run to escape, Shep had found out, her knees taking the worst of it. Thankfully, the Ethiopian doctor in the ER told her that yes, they were cut and deeply bruised, but she had not sustained any lasting injury to either of them. That was the good news. However, it was going to take a lot of stitches and surgical tape to close them and two more weeks before she could walk unassisted or even bend them much.
He took a fluffy lavender terry-cloth towel and brought it across her shoulders for warmth. The bathroom was small, and steamy from her long, luxurious soak in the tub. She thanked him, drawing the towel around her. He took a second towel from the rack and began to gently dry off her arms and hands, then softly patted her bruised and swollen shoulders, breasts and belly. Worried by how exhausted she looked, he quickly patted dry her hips, that beautiful butt of hers, her long, long legs, and finished up with her feet. Placing the towel aside, he brought a cushioned stool over so that she could sit down.
“Ohhh,” she sighed. Slowly sitting straight legged, one hand gripping the rim of the sink, the other tight on Shep’s thick forearm, she eased the pressure off her knees. “That’s sooo much better.”
He took the towel from around her shoulders, patting dry the bits he’d missed. He lifted a silky purple robe off the hook behind the door and crouched to help her into it. Kneeling, Shep brought the robe together and gently tied the sash for her. “There,” he murmured, looking up, seeing her eyes dark with fatigue. “Tell you what,” he said, rising. “Would you like to go lay down for a while? Just rest? Because you’re barely keeping your eyes open, Willow.”
“If you’ll lay down with me?”
“Let me take a shower, first? Get out of these dirty clothes? Then I’ll come and join you?” and he trailed his fingers through the unbrushed hair he’d just washed for her. Picking up a comb, he gently eased the snags out of her red tresses, and in no time, he’d gotten them somewhat tamed and glinting beautifully around her face, neck and shoulders.
“I’d like that,” she whispered. “I feel bludgeoned, Shep. Like someone hit me in the head with a sixteen-pound sledgehammer.”
“Adrenaline crash combined with your reaction to the Otter crash,” he reassured her. Standing, he placed the comb on the counter. “Tell you what: I’m going to carry you into the bedroom. You’ve walked and run enough today those damaged knees of yours.”
She smiled a little. “That would be nice,” she agreed softly.
He carefully lifted his warrior woman into his arms, placing her against his body, absorbing the sensation of her slender arms slipping around his shoulders.
Willow sighed his name, and rested her brow against his shoulder and jaw as he carried her from the bathroom to their bedroom.
Looking at the clock, it was 3:00 p.m. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Shep inhaled her feminine scent and the spicy cinnamon fragrance of the shampoo he’d used on her hair earlier, strands still damp and tickling his jaw.
Pushing open the door with the toe of his boot, he carried her to the bed that she’d made in the morning of this fateful, nearly fatal, day before leaving for work. After he posited her on the mattress, her head coming to rest on the pillow, he brought the blue silk coverlet over her so she wouldn’t be cold. “Close your eyes, Willow.” He caressed her hair and shoulder, watching her red lashes drift downward. She was already asleep, but he wasn’t surprised, knowing how a severe adrenaline rush affected even the hardiest. His hand moved down her sleeve, silently grateful that she was alive. Best of all? She would recover; he could love her fiercely for the rest of their lives together.
Quietly, Shep left the room, leaving the door a bit ajar, and went to the bathroom to finally get cleaned up himself. He wanted to take the smell of war off him. And as long as they remained in Ethiopia, war was always nearby. It was something they would always have to remain alert to.
Willow awoke with a start. She felt Shep’s arm around her waist, his body molded against her back and legs, his head rested on her pillow beside hers. It seemed to be evening, and she lifted her head. The clock on her dresser, opposite the bed, read nine p.m. Shocked, she slowly eased away from Shep, sitting up, pushing a mass of now-dry hair behind her shoulders, and straightening out her rumpled silk robe.
“Hey,” Shep mumbled, “no need to go anywhere…”
She turned, watching him drowsily roll onto his back, rubbing his face with his hands. There was a light-blue blanket across him. Under it, he was naked, and beautiful to her. And he was hers . “I woke you… sorry….”
He dropped his hands from his face, rolling onto his side, one arm behind his head as he studied her in the low light of the room. “I’m not. Did you sleep well?”
“I must have,” she croaked, clearing her throat, trying to get her bearings. “I didn’t even know when you came to bed.”
“About an hour after I carried you in here. You were already asleep. If the person gets to sleep as long as they want after a trauma, the body uses that time to recover from the event. That’s what you did.”
Pushing her fingers through her dried hair, feeling the silkiness of it, he smiled at her. She murmured, “I don’t remember you coming in, Shep. I must have been dead to the world. I do feel marginally better.”
“It’s going to take you weeks to recover from the shock, Willow. But you will recover… Oh, just so you know, after I took a shower, I also had to send Luke a preliminary written report on what happened. He forwarded it to Delos and Artemis.”
Groaning, Willow said, “You told them I crashed their Otter. Right?”
“Yeah, I had too. But wait, they’ve already replied to, and…”
“Are they angry? Upset?”
“No. They’re relieved that you’re alive and going to live. They understood why you did it. They’re sending two replacement Otters to us. One is coming from Kenya, the other from the Sudan. Two male pilots on board each one. They’ll arrive tomorrow morning, and I’ll be able to get back on track with the building schedule at Addis Zemen.”
“What about me? And Dev? We’ll get to fly one of them, won’t we?”
He gave her a lazy grin and moved beside her, bringing his arm around her shoulders. “No worries there. One set of pilots will be transferred back to the Sudan. A replacement Otter will be flown into their facility there this coming week. Artemis wants two planes here. You and Dev will get one of them.”
“They’re leaving the other two pilots here, then?”
Nodding, he said, “Yes, and I’m glad of it. You were running into FAA regulation limits on how much you could fly in one day, and the charity doesn’t want to run afoul of those regs.” He moved his hand lightly across her shoulder and upper arm. “Look at it this way? You’ll have some downtime. You were getting run ragged, Willow.”
“I suppose you’re right, she agreed, leaning into his body, resting her head against his shoulder. “Does Dev know all this?”
“Yes, I gave her and Ginny the gist of what the charity had decided to do.”
“How are they doing health wise?”
“Better. The doctor came over this morning, gave them some prescriptions and I heard from Luke, around four, that they were sleeping peacefully. Their fevers had dropped. The doctor agreed that they got a bad case of food poisoning. Luke himself is tired, but fine. He came through this better than anyone.”
Placing her hand against her chest, she whispered, “Because of his SEAL training. And you because of your knife training.”
“Yes, on both counts.”
“It’s good to hear Dev and Ginny are feeling better.”
“Delos is also sending us two more security officers, so that both Otters and pilots have someone on board to protect them at all times, no matter where or when they fly.”
“That’s even better. Was it ever a mistake for me to get someone from the foreman’s workers to come with me this morning. I had no idea Zere could be one of David’s soldiers.” She shook her head, giving him a grim look of apology.
“Hey, no second guessing here. We had a gap in our security, and no one realized it until it happened. Ginny and Dev couldn’t help falling sick with food poisoning, but we didn’t have backup for security to make up the difference, either. That’s what got us in trouble. From now on? We’ll have a security officer at the warehouse when shipments come in and leave, and one at the airport on stand-by, in case one of the one of the Otters’ security people gets sick or something. We’ll always have a third person ready to step in, to ensure you have someone who will protect your safety while flying those supplies to us.”
“That’s a lot of money they’re spending on this effort, Shep,” she said, frowning.
“The way they see this gig, we have almost a dozen buildings going up in a dozen different locations to create adequate safety for our charities here in this country. That’s going to take us nearly a year to complete, so it’s not a wasted effort, no matter the extra cost. We don’t know who will take David’s place, but power hates a vacuum, so I’m sure someone will step up to take over the five hundred soldiers he had here in Ethiopia. We don’t know who, but what’s for certain is that someone will,” he growled, shaking his head. “Terrorism is alive and well all over the world, but really most dangerous to people like us who work in third world countries.”
She sighed, kissing his cheek. “And all we’re trying to do is help them out.”
He slid his hand up and down her upper arm. “Yeah… just like Afghanistan, except here in Ethiopia, they are better at trying to improve people’s lives. A lot of their people are already educated, and that is a good thing.”
“True,” she murmured. “Maybe that’s why Dev and I like being here. The people are great, they are kind, and they help each other out. It isn’t always like that everywhere else. They are WORTH helping, Shep. To me, at least, they are.”
“Me, too,” he agreed. “There’re always bad apples in every country in the world. It doesn’t matter if it’s first, second or third world. We were well briefed on what it would be like coming over here, that we could encounter dangerous situations. The charity has tried to plug the holes on what they thought might happen, but until you have boots on the ground, you don’t know the details of what ELSE could take place and cause us havoc.”
She snorted. “And it’s the details that can get us killed. Like they almost did me, this morning,” and she shook her head, trading an unhappy glance with Shep.
“Don’t be hard on yourself. When I talked to Luke earlier, he pinpointed more of the problem, as well as a resolution for it. As soon as we got off the Black Hawk at the airport, he hitched a ride over to the warehouse to talk with the foreman. He’s creating a system where every worker hired by the foreman is not only known, first name and last, but will also have to pass a security background check run on them. And if they can’t find out more, then they don’t hire the man. Those that make it through will also have to wear proper insignia showing their clearance level at all times. We don’t need any more terrorist ringers slipping through and causing us issues.”
“That’ll go a long way,” Willow said, nodding. Her stomach growled and Shep turned, grinning at her. “Guess I’m hungry.”
“Are you?”
She gave him a classic Willow-brand one-eyebrow-raised look. “Now, that’s a loaded question and you know it, Porter.”
Chuckling, he said, “I was just teasing you. I mean food, like on the table. I can throw us something together and we can eat.”
She smiled up at him. “You’re always a pot-stirrer, Porter.”
He released her and stood up. “Guilty as charged. You want to stay in that robe, or you want some real clothes?”
“Real clothes,” she said, pointing to the closet. “Can you grab me a pair of khaki cargo pants and a pullover tee? You choose the colors. I’m fine with not hobbling around on these achy knees of mine more than I have to.”
Opening the closet, he said, “The doctor said twenty-one days before you can fly again.”
Wrinkling her nose, she nodded. “I’ll go out of my mind with nothing to do around here.”
“Well,” he said, choosing a pink tee and light gray cargo pants out of the closet, “I have a nice little apartment, air conditioned, in Bahir Dar. Would you be interested in coming up there and staying with me for that time frame? The apartment is in a safe, walled area with a very nice courtyard, a pond, lots of trees and flowers, along with a nice, flat path. I think a little exercise daily on those knees might be good. What do you think?”
“I like that idea,” she said, taking the clothes from him, and with Shep’s patient help, she eventually got dressed. She had some funky-patterned tennis shoes, which were flat and easy to walk in, and he eased them onto her feet and tied the laces for her. Reaching out, she whispered, “Thanks… it’s sort of nice to be taken care of.”
He lifted his chin, giving her a warm look. “I kinda like it, too, Willow.” He rose, holding out his hand to her. “Let’s see how your knees react?”
She nodded and hesitantly stood, feeling the stretch of the surgical tape across several deep cuts that had to be stitched closed. “How about I put my arm around your waist, and you put your arm around my shoulder?”
“Anything you want, Angel.”
Her heart swelled with such love for him. “I’ve never seen this side of you, Shep, the mother-in-disguise, nurturing me. Making me feel safe.”
He walked her slowly out of the bedroom and down the hall. “Funny,” he murmured, “I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we’re changing for the better?”
“I think so. I like it. A lot.”
“I do, too, Willow.”
As they approached the table, he pulled out a chair for her. “You sit, and I’ll continue to nurture you,” he teased.
Laughing a little, she sat down slowly, some pain drifting up her thighs. The doctor had given her some Ibuprofen for the pain, and she thought she might take some. Shep scooted the chair closer to the table for her. “Seriously? Would you like to spend the next three weeks with me up at the job site? You won’t be as bored.”
“I’d like that. Maybe this is the good thing that comes out of something like this. I’ve never really seen you working. Never even saw what you did as a Seabee at our base in Afghanistan. I was always flying missions.”
Going to the refrigerator, he pulled out cold fried chicken, some dinner rolls and coleslaw. Placing it all on the counter, he said, “You might find it interesting. You’re mechanically minded and that’s what civil engineering is all about: mechanics.”
“Well,” she said, “since I can’t fly for a while, I think I’ll like staying at your home away from home.”
***
As it turned out, Willow had to wait nearly four weeks for her knees to heal up to the point where she could bend them without pain or stiffness. The first week with Shep had been one of quiet frustration for her because she couldn’t just walk anywhere anytime she wanted. But that was a minor nuisance compared to the upside: he’d go off to work and she’d have the lovely little apartment with its wonderful, life-giving air conditioning all to herself. Every morning, she would carefully walk the little path as advertised, not wanting to open up one of those deep, but slowly healing, cuts in her knees. And after he left at dawn to begin his day’s work, she would sit outside on a chair in the coolness of the morning and enjoy the beauty of the surrounding flower beds. Best of all, the birds sang at dawn, and that always lifted her spirits.
Dev kept herself busy on her laptop, helping to coordinate the new pilots and the two Otter airplanes that were taking over the workhorse routine of the many daily flights. But with two planes, they were each only flying four or five times a day, and for Dev, that was a relief. Willow would give anything to be in the cockpit again but decided to stop grumping about it and try to be patient. Her day always got better when Shep got home, sometimes well past dinnertime. His days were long, involved and demanding. She began to see how exhausted he was then. She had never realized his job was him sitting at the top of a pyramid of endless decisions that only he, and nobody else, could make. Everything always stopped at his door. He carried the weight of the entire project on his broad shoulders.
Without fail, he would bring dinner home for the two of them every night. And he always brought her desserts that she loved, small tokens, she felt, of his love for her. She was spoiled with such attention. Every night, he would ask how her day went. And only after they’d discussed the ups and downs of her healing, would he tell her about his own. There were enormous decisions to be made, millions of dollars in the mix, and she found herself in awe of how he juggled such responsibility. Toward the end of her healing period, he took her out one evening to a restaurant and then to a small hill overlooking the construction site. There were bright lights surrounding the entire area. For the first time, she saw the layers of reinforced barricades she had flown in the materials to build. Security guards were on duty twenty-four hours a day. The people of this small town must have heaved many a sigh of relief that their children were to be safe going to school, instead of the fear of the little ones being stolen away by sex-traders.
By the thirtieth day, her knees were well on their way to being back to normal. Willow had been industrious that day, cleaning, sweeping, dusting, and thinking that usually she would hate such things. But the fact that her knees were almost healed, and she could bend, flex and crouch, made her grateful. No longer was housework a drudge. After the enforced jail time of being hardly able to do anything, it was a joy just to move her body again like she used to.
There was a rhythm to Shep’s return from work, and this evening followed it: He arrived at sunset and kissed her hello, asked how she was doing, and then went to get a cool shower and some clean clothes. In the meantime, she set the table and put some of the wildflowers from the path she walked daily into a small blue pottery vase. She’d been able to bend all the way down and cut their stems with a pair of scissors she’d brought along for that purpose. They were a bright spot of color on the small, handmade wooden table and she smiled, knowing Shep would appreciate them.
She heard the door to the bedroom where they slept open, and she knew Shep was done showering and changing. In some ways, Willow felt as if she’d traded lives with someone else or was now in another dimension. Every night, they slept together. Because of her knees, it wasn’t prudent to go all the way, but she enjoyed their kisses, his tenderness, and the many changes that he’d made for her. Those nights were gifts to her.
“Got something for you,” he said, handing her a brightly colored box.
She smiled. “Thanks. Dinner’s ready. Can I open it afterward?”
“Sure,” and he pulled her chair out for her to sit on.
“What is it?”
He grinned and sat down opposite her, opening the bright-yellow cotton napkin before him. “You’ve always been the curious one,” he said, passing her the bowl of salad.
“Guilty,” Willow said, warming beneath his gaze. She lifted some salad onto her plate with a pair of tongs. “Maybe I should open the box now? Instead of later?”
He laughed and shrugged. “Up to you, Angel. It’s yours. IF you want it,” he teased mildly.
Giving him a nod, she said, “I want.” She picked up the box and opened it. Her eyes widened and she snapped a look at Shep. “Is this what I think it is?” she whispered, suddenly emotional.
“It is.”
She stared at the engagement ring. Only it wasn’t a diamond. It had a green gemstone instead, in a gold setting. “Shep…”
“Is it too soon?” he asked quietly, becoming serious, watching her stare into the box.
Flummoxed, she whispered unsteadily, “I don’t know… we’ve been through so much in such a short, concentrated span of time…”
“Then,” he said gently, “put it away and we’ll approach this another time?”
She stared at him, her heart bursting over such love and thoughtfulness. “I—wasn’t expecting this, Shep…”
“Then,” he said, “let’s put the box away for now. Instead, what I’d like to do tonight, if it feels right to you, is love you, Willow.”
Taking a deep breath, she felt her whole body say a big ‘YES!’ to his suggestion. No one was a better lover than Shep, in her experience at least. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’d like that… I’m more than ready and I think you are too.”
He smiled a little. “You could say that, Willow.”
She couldn’t stop staring at the engagement ring. “It’s so beautiful…”
“It’s an emerald,” he said, “not quite the spring-green color of your eyes, but it’s close. You really like it?”
“I love the man who chose it for me,” she managed, her voice tearful sounding. Slipping on the ring, she said, “I’m going to keep this. I don’t want to give it back to you, Shep…”
Later that night, Shep gently drew Willow up against him in bed. He leaned over, capturing her mouth, giving her all the love he held in his heart. Relieved that she’d accepted the engagement ring, he felt even more hopeful that, if they kept working at their relationship, it would do nothing but get better with time. And Willow was focused on working through her own issues, as he was his. It wasn’t a one-way street and Shep figured that, with maturity, they’d both learned valuable lessons that would serve them well moving forward. As their lips melded and slid across one another, she hungrily returned his exploring, heated kiss. She was so brave. So courageous. And he loved her with his life.
Easing from her mouth, Shep drowned in her aroused gaze as she searched his narrowed eyes. “You’re mine,” he growled, cupping her breast, feeling her flesh tighten in his palm. “Now,” Shep said thickly, kissing her temple, inhaling her fragrance. “And forever…” Shep moved his thumb across the hardening nipple as he again curved his mouth hotly against her wet lips.
A soft moan vibrated through Willow as he teased her. Abruptly, her hips moved against his. Willow was dazed by his sweet assault upon her. Shep smiled down at her. A sense of gratefulness that he could give Willow this gift of his love coursed through him, a buffer against the violent world that had nearly taken her life only a month before.
Lifting her, Shep eased her on top of him, her favorite position. With her knees freshly healed, she made the movement with ease. He already knew she was wet and ready by the fierce, burning look in her eyes. She was his woman warrior. His to love. His to protect. His to give pleasure to. He settled her over his erection, a low sound of pleasure catching in her exposed throat as her hips captured his.
“Take me,” he growled. Because Willow was a fearless lover. She liked sex just as much as he did and Shep saw her give him a very hunter-like look as she eased firmly against his erection, sliding slowly against him.
He groaned and slipped his hands around her flared hips, wanting to be within her. She shared his need, and lifted a little, moving forward to capture him. She sheathed slowly down upon him, allowing her body to adjust to the motion. Willow was wet and hot and he heard her groan with him, her head tipping back, again that animal-like raw sound of pleasure escaping her lips. Shep felt how ready she was. Willow was so close to orgasm already that he brought her firmly down upon him and began quick, short thrusts, watching her start to fly apart with the rhythm he’d established for them. Her hands frantically opened and closed against his chest wall, her breath coming in sharp, sudden gasps, her breasts tight, nipples hard, begging to be teased.
It was as if all the danger of the recent past was making her frantic and starved for him in a new way. Sex meant life. Living. Not dying. Shep felt her tight, wet channel gripping him and he gritted his teeth, close to exploding. Her breath came in ragged, small sounds, little cries arcing up her throat. Oh yeah, Willow was ready. And he made sure to give her as much pleasure as she wanted, lifting his hips, gripping hers, bringing more pressure down on him, fully engaging that swollen, throbbing knot of nerves at her entrance. Seconds later, he felt Willow suddenly freeze, a cry tearing out of her, fingers digging deeply into his upper arms as the orgasm erupted and rolled through her with throbbing, deep, pleasurable contractions.
Shep knew he could not stop himself from coming. He didn’t want to just yet. But every time with Willow was better. More intense. Her orgasms were long, making her weep with satisfaction. And then, Shep felt that familiar zing of white-hot heat roaring down his spine, making him growl as he kept moving his hips, trying to continue her rapture. That streak of boiling fire slammed into his tightened balls and exploded out of him. He was lost in the raw, consuming heat, feeling Willow’s body contract tightly around him. Unable to move, his breath ragged, eyes tightly shut as he gripped her hips, Shep flew into that same cauldron of gratification with Willow. It didn’t get any better than this. Not ever.
Willow groaned his name and melted against Shep’s body afterward. She was breathing raggedly, her heart pounding, her body radiating with raw fulfillment while the throbbing ripples kept on surging throughout her. She felt the sharp rise and fall of his chest, his pounding heart against her ear. Nuzzling his jaw, she whispered, “That was off the charts…” Willow felt him chuckle, a rumble-like thunder rolling deeply through his chest.
“It was great, Angel,” Shep managed, his voice hoarse. He threaded his fingers through her slightly curled hair. “I like what we have…”
Nodding, finding it difficult to think, just feel, Willow absorbed him on every level of her being. He was strong, his muscles hard and reflexive as she moved her fingers slowly up and down his ribcage. Shep was so alive. So vital. She lay there upon him, eyes closed, dampness shared between their heated, perspiring bodies. Willow was consumed with love for him. He was a warrior, but always tender toward her in moments like these. He had always loved her as if she were the most beautiful, sacred being in his life. The way he treated her afterward always made Willow feel incredibly cherished. “I’ve never known that loving someone could be so beautiful… so wonderful,” Willow whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. She felt Shep’s large, calloused hand smooth away the dampness across her shoulders.
“This can only happen when two hearts are involved,” Shep agreed thickly. Opening his eyes, he savored the sight of Willow lying across his body, her long, curved thighs bracketing his hips, her breasts pressed to his chest. A new emotional depth had been birthed between them. And Shep knew he fed her in every way. Good ways. Healing her as well as himself. He loved her. It would see them through their time in Ethiopia. Sliding his fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp, he heard her sigh, her arms sliding behind his neck, her lips softly kissing his cheek, temple and brow.
“I love you so much, and I’ve missed you so much…” she offered in a low voice, meeting his gaze, drowning in the love she saw as he held her.
His hands caressed her neck and shoulders. “You complete me, Willow,” he managed, still caught in the heat and pleasure of the moment. “We’ll use this time… our time… for us, for healing each other.”
“I like where we’re going… together…”
END