Chapter 7
ANDI
Sleep won't come. I've been lying here staring at the ceiling of Devlin's guest room, too aware of him down the hall.
Every creak of the house settling reminds me that someone tried to kill me tonight.
That I'm here because Devlin checked my truck before I drove it.
That I'm alive because he refuses to let anything happen to me.
But it's not just gratitude keeping me awake. It's the memory of his hand tucking hair behind my ear, the heat in his eyes before that phone call interrupted us, the way he looked at me when I said I could get used to this. Like maybe he could too.
I give up on pretending and pad quietly down the hallway in bare feet and sleep shorts, intending to get water. But a soft light draws my attention to the back of the house. Through the sliding glass door, I spot Devlin sitting on the back porch, Duke at his feet. Neither of them are asleep either.
I slide the door open carefully. Devlin turns at the sound, his expression shifting from alert to something softer when he sees me.
"Can't sleep?" His voice is low in the quiet night.
"Too much going through my head." I step onto the porch, the cool air raising goosebumps on my bare arms. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not even a little bit." He gestures to the chair beside him, but I bypass it and sit directly on the porch steps, closer to where Duke is sprawled. The dog lifts his head, tail thumping twice in greeting before settling back down with a contented sigh.
Devlin moves from his chair to sit beside me on the steps, close enough that our shoulders almost touch. Above us, stars scatter across the clear night sky. The base is quiet at this hour, only occasional sounds of night operations carrying across the distance.
"What's going through your head?" he asks after a moment of comfortable silence.
"Everything." I pull my knees up, wrapping my arms around them. "Someone tried to kill me today. They're bringing Hutchins in for questioning, but what if he's not the guy? What if he is? What if whoever did this is still out there?" I rest my chin on my knees. "And then there's you."
"Me?" Curiosity and wariness mix in his voice.
"You." I turn my head to look at him. "You who slept on a hotel floor to keep me safe. You who checked my truck before I drove it. You who brought me into your home and cooked me dinner and let me feed pasta to your dog when I thought you weren't looking."
"I was definitely looking." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Duke's trained not to beg. You undid years of discipline in five minutes."
"Good." I bump my shoulder against his. "He deserves to be spoiled sometimes." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "I'm tired of being afraid. Of not living because I might lose someone. Of choosing loneliness because connection means risk."
He's quiet for a long moment, his profile outlined by the dim light from inside. "You already got past every wall I built," he finally says, rough honesty in his voice. "I don't know how to keep you out anymore. Not sure I want to."
"Then stop trying." The words come out steadier than I feel. "Stop protecting yourself from this. From us."
"Andi..." My name is a warning and a plea.
"I'm done being careful. Done running from feeling something real." I reach out, my fingers finding his where they rest on his knee. "I know this is complicated. I know you're supposed to be protecting me, not getting involved. But I'm done pretending this is just about safety."
His hand turns under mine, fingers threading through mine and holding tight. "If we do this, if we cross this line, everything changes. You understand that?"
"I'm counting on it." I squeeze his fingers. "Take the risk with me."
Duke's tail thumps against the porch like punctuation. Devlin's eyes drop to my mouth, then back to my eyes.
"Yes," I whisper, answering the question he hasn't asked.
He closes the distance between us, his mouth finding mine.
The kiss is hungry, desperate, everything we've been holding back since Duke decided I was pack.
His hand comes up to cup the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss.
I taste mint and want and Devlin Porter finally letting his control slip.
I shift closer, needing more contact. My palms find his shoulders, solid and warm through soft cotton. He groans against my mouth when I press against him, and the sound sends heat spiraling through me.
"Inside," he manages between kisses. "Not on my back porch where half the base could see."
I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. "Your bedroom?"
"If that's what you want." His thumb brushes across my jaw, the touch gentle despite the hunger visible in his expression.
"That's what I want." I stand, pulling him up with me. "I want to move forward. With you."
We move inside together, Duke following at our heels. When we reach Devlin's bedroom, Duke pads in behind us and immediately moves to his bed on the floor at the foot of the bed, circling twice before settling with a contented sigh. Devlin closes the door behind us.
His bedroom surprises me. The organization is pure military, everything in its place, but the bed is an unexpected contrast. A large antique frame, dark wood with carved details, the kind of piece someone chose because they loved it, not because it was functional.
Soft bedding that looks comfortable, not just practical.
It's a glimpse of the man underneath the soldier, someone who values comfort and beauty even if he doesn't advertise it.
His hand is warm in mine, and when he turns to face me, there's nothing controlled about the way he looks at me.
His palms frame my face, tilting it up to his. "You're sure about this?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." I slide my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
His mouth crashes against mine, and there's nothing hesitant about it.
This kiss is all heat and hunger, his tongue sliding against mine as his hands grip my waist. He takes his time exploring, tasting, learning what makes me gasp.
His palms slide down my sides, thumbs brushing the bare skin where my sleep shirt has ridden up. Everywhere he touches, heat blooms.
I tug at his shirt, needing skin. He breaks the kiss long enough to pull it over his head, and I take a moment to appreciate what's in front of me.
Broad shoulders, defined muscles, dog tags resting against tanned skin.
But it's the scars that catch my attention. Evidence of a life lived dangerously.
I trace one with my fingertip, a long pale line across his ribs. "What's this from?"
"Training accident." His muscles tense under my touch. "Few years back."
He walks me backward toward the bed, kissing me between steps. When the back of my knees hit the mattress, I sit, and he follows me down, covering my body with his. The weight of him, the heat, the solid reality of Devlin Porter finally touching me is overwhelming.
His palms slide under my sleep shirt, fingers splaying across my ribs, my waist, exploring with deliberate attention. "We should talk," he murmurs against my neck, and I appreciate that even now, he's being responsible. "About protection."
"I'm on birth control. Have been for years." I sit up enough to look at him. "And I got tested after Tyler died. I'm clean."
"So am I. Got tested after my last deployment." His eyes search mine in the dim light. "Haven't been with anyone since."
"Then there's nothing between us." I reach for the hem of my shirt. "Help me with this."
He does, pulling the soft fabric up and over my head, his gaze tracking down my body with unconcealed want.
His hands follow the path his eyes took, palms warm against my skin as they trace my curves.
When his mouth replaces his hands, kissing a path from my collarbone down to my breast, I arch into him with a gasp.
He takes his time, learning what makes me moan, what makes my fingers tighten in his hair.
His tongue circles one nipple before taking it into his mouth, and the sensation shoots straight through me.
By the time he moves to the other breast, I'm already pulling at the waistband of my sleep shorts, needing them gone, needing more skin against skin.
He helps me shed them along with my underwear, then sits back to look at me. The hunger in his expression makes me feel powerful, desired in ways that have nothing to do with protection or duty.
"You're beautiful," he says, his voice rough with need.
"Your turn." I reach for his belt, and he lets me unbuckle it, unzip his pants, push them down along with his boxer briefs. When he's finally naked, I take a moment to appreciate him. Hard muscle, scarred skin, dog tags catching the dim light, and the very obvious evidence of how much he wants me.
I wrap my fingers around him, stroking slowly, and watch his eyes go dark. "Andi," he groans, his hips flexing into my touch. "If you keep doing that, this is going to be over before it starts."
"Can't have that." I release him but pull him down to me, our bodies finally skin to skin from chest to thigh. The contact is electric, overwhelming, and when he settles his weight on me, I wrap my legs around his hips instinctively.
His mouth finds mine again as his hand slides between us, fingers exploring, finding me wet and ready.
He strokes slowly, deliberately, building sensation with each pass until I'm moving against his hand, chasing the pleasure he's creating.
When he slides a finger inside me, then another, I break the kiss to gasp against his shoulder.
"You feel so good," he murmurs against my ear, his fingers working me with precision. "So ready for me."
I rock my hips against his hand, wordless and wanting. He withdraws his fingers, positioning himself at my entrance. His eyes meet mine in the dim light, pupils blown wide with desire.
He enters me slowly, carefully, giving me time to adjust as he fills me. The stretch, the fullness, the sheer intimacy of having Devlin inside me steals my breath. His forehead rests against mine as we both adjust to the sensation.
"God, Andi." Reverence fills his voice. "You feel incredible."
We move together, finding a rhythm that builds slowly. He watches me, never looking away, like he's memorizing every expression, every sound. His control is slipping in the way his muscles tense, the way his breathing gets ragged, but he's still focused on me.
"Let go," I whisper, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
His rhythm changes instantly, harder and deeper, the careful control shattering.
One hand slides between us, his fingers finding my clit, and the dual sensation of him inside me and the pressure of his touch sends lightning through my nerves.
My back arches off the bed, thighs tightening around his hips as the tension coils tighter and tighter.
"That's it," he growls against my throat, his voice raw. "Come for me, Andi."
The orgasm hits like a shockwave, muscles clenching around him as pleasure pulses through my entire body.
I cry out, nails raking down his back, lost in sensation so intense it whites out everything else.
He thrusts through my climax, prolonging it, drawing out every last tremor until I'm gasping beneath him.
His control breaks completely. His movements turn urgent, desperate, driving into me with single-minded intensity.
I feel him swell inside me, his whole body going rigid, and then he groans deep in his chest as he comes, heat flooding inside me as his hips jerk with each pulse.
His weight collapses onto me, both of us shaking, breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other.
We lie there afterward, tangled together, breathing hard. His weight pressing me into the mattress feels grounding, real. After a moment, he shifts, rolling to his side and pulling me with him so we're facing each other. His fingers trace idle patterns on my hip.
"You okay?" Vulnerability underlies the question.
"More than okay." I press a kiss to his jaw. "We should have done that long before now."
"Maybe." His palm continues its idle exploration of my hip, my waist. "But I needed to know you were safe."
"And now?" I tilt my head to look at him.
"Now everything's different." He pulls me closer, and I rest my head against his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat slow back to normal.
"I know." My eyes are already getting heavy, the combination of exhaustion and satisfaction pulling me under. "I'm okay with that."
Duke shifts on the floor, a soft whine escaping him. Devlin reaches down and pats the bed. "Come on, boy. Up."
Duke doesn't need to be told twice. He jumps up, circling once before settling at our feet with a contented sigh. Pack. All of us together.
I drift off at some point, because the next thing I'm aware of is sunlight filtering through the curtains and Devlin's phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. He reaches for it, his other arm still wrapped around me, but the moment he looks at the screen, every muscle in his body goes rigid.
"What?" I'm suddenly fully awake.
He shows me without a word.
A photo fills the screen. Us. On the back porch last night, sitting close on the steps, the moment before our first kiss.
The angle and zoom suggest someone was positioned across the street or in the distance with a telephoto lens, far enough that Duke wouldn't have alerted but close enough to capture our faces clearly in the light from inside.
Below the photo: "She's already yours. That makes this even better."
Duke is on his feet instantly, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Devlin's already moving, pulling on clothes with military efficiency. "Stay here. Lock the door behind me."
"Devlin—" But he's already gone, Duke at his heels, and I'm left sitting in his bed staring at that photo on my own phone where he forwarded it.
Someone was watching. Last night while we were on the porch. Far enough away that Duke didn't sense them, but watching us through a camera lens. Seeing us kiss. Documenting us.
And whoever they are, they're not done.