Chapter 16
It wasn’t even dawn as Tyrone blinked away, unable to sleep.
He inhaled deeply and murmured in satisfaction at the scent of sex, musk, and sweat layered with the faint strawberry of Glenna’s shampoo.
He lay perfectly still, his body thrumming with awareness of every point where their skin met.
Her smooth back pressed against his chest, the curve of her ass fitted against his hips, the whisper of her hair tickling his arm where it draped over the pillow.
Her breathing came slow and deep, the kind of bone-deep sleep only exhaustion and satisfaction could bring.
I did that.
His fingers flexed unconsciously where they gripped her hip, cataloguing the warmth of her skin, the slight stickiness of sweat cooling between them.
Somewhere outside, a lone bird began its morning song.
The sound was muffled through the window, just another murmur in the pre-dawn hush broken only by the steady ticking of the bedside clock.
Normally, the rhythm of it would have lulled him under by now.
But tonight—no, this morning—sleep eluded him, his mind cycling through images that flashed behind his eyelids like a malfunctioning projector.
Dwight grinning over his shoulder in the mess hall, eyes bright with laughter, saying something crude about the chow like he always did before missions.
Then that same face contorted in pain, pale and blood-streaked in the back of the Humvee as Tyrone fought to keep pressure on the wound that wouldn't stop weeping crimson into the desert sand.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers tightening slightly on Glenna’s hip before forcing them to relax.
His jaw ached from clenching it. He glanced at his watch and calculated that he’d managed about three hours sleep before his body jolted him back to awareness.
He was wired and restless. Before a mission, he usually forced his body into a controlled shutdown for at least four solid hours minimum, banking reserves for whatever shitshow waited beyond the LZ.
But now? Now his pulse kicked as Glenna shifted slightly in her sleep, pressing back against him with a soft, contented sigh.
His body reacted instantly, dick hardening against the smooth heat of her ass despite his muttered curse.
You selfish bastard. She needs rest. You should not be here and you definitely shouldn’t want her again so soon.
His thoughts fractured as she rolled her hips in a slow, sleepy undulation that drew another groan from his lips.
Fuck.
His blood was lava-hot in his veins on the way to his cock, pooling low and heavy between his legs. His breath hitched when her fingers twitched against his wrist, guiding his hand down over the swell of her belly. The skin there was soft and warm under his touch.
“Mm...again?” Her voice was husky with sleep.
It was barely a whisper, but it sent another bolt of lust straight to his cock.
He could smell the lingering scent of their earlier coupling as his fingers slid lower.
The heady musk of her arousal made his mouth water, his pulse kicking harder when he found her already wet, folds swollen and sensitive from the last time.
That single word—again—was all the permission he needed.
The bedsprings groaned as he rolled her beneath him, the sheets tangling around his legs.
Glenna blinked up at him, still half-asleep but her body already arching to meet his, her thighs parting instinctively.
His mouth crashed down on hers, swallowing her gasp as his tongue plunged deep in a claiming stroke.
She tasted like sleep and them, faintly salty from dried sweat, an intoxicating blend that made his head spin.
His fingers fumbled blindly for his wallet on the floor, scattering loose change across the floor before he found the condom.
The wrapper tore loudly in the quiet room.
Glenna’s hands were already on him, her fingers wrapping around his length with practiced ease.
His vision whited out for a second as she stroked him, her thumb swiping over the slick head before rolling the condom down with torturously slow precision.
When he braced over her, he could see every detail in heartbreaking clarity—the flutter of her pulse in her throat, the way her nipples pebbled under his gaze, the faint shine of sweat in the hollow between her breasts. The mattress creaked softly as he shifted his weight.
“Sure?” The word scraped from his throat, and his muscles trembled with the effort of holding back.
Her answer was a fierce jerk of her hips, nails scoring his shoulders. “Yes, more, Ty, please. Just more.”
The first thrust punched the breath from both their lungs.
The bedframe slammed against the wall in a punishing rhythm, the noise lost beneath Glenna’s choked moans and the slick slap of skin meeting skin.
The scent of sex, of her, filled his nose, the taste of salt as he licked a stripe up her throat.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just shy of painful as her thighs clenched around his hips.
“Look at me,” he ground out.
Her eyes flew open, the pupils blown wide. Something fractured in his chest at the sight. This mix of trust and defiance, and the way her lips parted on each gasped breath, could so easily destroy him.
When she came, it was with his name torn from her lips, her body clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses that dragged his own climax from him, leaving him boneless and shuddering atop her.
After, as their breathing slowly evened out in the gathering dawn, he traced the ridge of her collarbone with his mouth, cataloguing the taste of her sweat, the way her pulse fluttered under his lips.
“What now?”
Her whisper sent a different kind of tremor through him. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, smearing the bite-mark he'd left there. The answer came rough but certain, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.
“Now we figure out how to make sure there is nobody out there hunting you and Kelsey. We keep you both safe. Everything else we figure out as we go.”
“Okay.”
“I should go.” He didn’t want to. “In case Kelsey wakes up and comes looking for you.”
“Um, yeah. Let’s not have her catch you here.”
The shower was a mistake. He’d meant it to be quick. Rinse off, clear his head, get dressed and leave. But the moment Glenna stepped in behind him, her hands sliding over his chest, her body pressing against his under the spray, all bets were off.
Her fingers traced the scars on his back, the ridges of old wounds, her touch light but maddening.
“You’ve been shot.”
“Twice.” His voice was a low rumble, his hands finding her hips, pulling her flush against him. “Knife wounds are worse.”
She tilted her head back, her eyes meeting his. “Show me.”
He had a better idea. He turned her, pressing her palms against the tile, the water sluicing over her skin. His mouth found the side of her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his hands slid down her body, over the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips.
“Here.” His fingers pressed into the same place on her body where he had a jagged scar low on his stomach. “Afghanistan.”
Glenna’s breath hitched as his hands moved to her ribs. “Pakistan.”
He moved across her chest, skimming his fingers over her nipples. “Syria.” His voice was a dark murmur against her ear. “Took three stitches. I bled like a stuck pig, and because I was solo behind a broken wall, I had to put them in myself.”
His fingers slid down her stomach, spreading her, his thumb circling her clit.
“And here?”
“That’s somewhere I never, ever want to get stabbed, baby.”
She moaned as his fingers slid inside her. His cock was already hard again, pressing against her ass.
“You like that?” he growled. “Hearing about how close I’ve come to dying?”
Glenna rocked back against him, her voice breathless. “I like that you’re here.”
Tyrone groaned, his free hand gripping her hip as he lined himself up. “Then take me.” He paused. “Wait. We don’t have a condom.”
She opened her hand and showed him what she had. “I picked one up that fell out of your wallet.
Fuck, that’s hot.
He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it down over himself. “I’m all yours.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. She reached back, her fingers wrapping around his cock, guiding him to her entrance.
he thrust forward, burying himself inside her in one smooth motion.
The water pounded around them, and the steam fogged up the glass as he fucked her against the tile, his hands gripping her hips, his cock driving into her with a relentless rhythm.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered, his voice rough. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Glenna’s hand slid between her legs, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight, desperate circles as his hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her whine for more. Her orgasm built fast, her body coiling tight, her breath coming in sharp, broken gasps.
“That’s it,” he growled, his hand sliding up her back, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Come for me, baby.”
She came on his cock with a cry, her body clamping down around him, her release triggering his own. Tyrone groaned, his cock jerking inside her as he spilled into the condom, his body shuddering against hers.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then Glenna turned in his arms, her hands cupping his face, her forehead pressing against his.
“We’re not done,” she whispered. “Are we?”
He fucking loved that she was as insatiable as he was. His hands flexed on her waist, his cock already stirring again.
“No,” he agreed, his voice a dark promise. “We’re not.”
The bedroom was a wreck. The sheets tangled, the pillows on the floor, their clothes scattered around and the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.