Under Fire
“I don’t have family.”
“Everyone has family, even if they’re not blood related.” She traced along his chest down to his six pack. How could one man be so lean and muscled at the same time? Every ounce of him was poured into sculpted strength—strength she’d enjoyed the hell out of since they closed that door behind Officer Vogel.
“Okay, then, the fire department of Dalton, Texas, is my family.”
“Fire department?”
“I volunteered there when I was seventeen. I couldn’t go into burning buildings, but I could ride with them. I got to play with the Jaws of Life. I ate good meals and had male role models to give me advice.”
“Your father was dead?”
“No, but my mother died of cancer when I was eleven, and after that, honestly, my father didn’t care what I did.” He held up a hand and she linked fingers with him. “No need to make it a sob story. He wasn’t brokenhearted over my mother’s death. He didn’t abuse me. I had a roof over my head. According to all of the different marriage counselors, he was a self-absorbed narcissist. And since my mother died when I was young, I was constantly seeking to re-create the perfect home life for myself through my many failed marriages.” He rattled off the information dispassionately, as if reciting from a textbook. “And yet I kept re-creating the past by getting into relationships doomed from the start.”
“Um, wow. That’s… sad?” Tragic actually. Every woman in his life had left him, even his mother, who couldn’t help what happened to her.
He kicked the faucet off. “Funny how knowing doesn’t help stop the cycle.”
“I think maybe you chose those women because you knew they weren’t a threat to your military calling. Maybe they weren’t a threat to your heart either. I know how much it hurts, losing your mother young.”
His smile went tight. “Are you planning on hanging up a shingle and charging for the therapy too?”
“Not therapy. Just observations.” She feathered her fingers over his eyebrows. “Just caring about you.”
He captured her wrist. “You’ve got to know history shows caring doesn’t usually end well, where I’m concerned.”
Had so few people cared for him after his mother died that he was uncomfortable accepting affection? Had that been what his therapists meant? Liam, the protector, knew how to give and be in charge, but he didn’t know how to receive. And he was right, in that one-sided relationships didn’t stand a chance.
Damn it, she didn’t know what the future held for them. But she couldn’t turn away from Liam now without making sure she gave him something of herself and that he let her. Even if only on a physical level.
Sitting up, she straddled him, running her fingers over his broad chest.
He started to stand. “I’ll grab some towels—”
She shook her head and pressed against his chest. “I’m not ready to get out yet, and neither are you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”
“Mm-hmmm.” She splayed her fingers along his pecs, fully aware he could hoist her out of the way with little effort.
But she willed him with her eyes to lean back. Give over control to her and let her give something to him.
Slowly, he reclined in the tub again, raising the water again to half full. Moisture clung to the sprinkling of golden hair on his chest. Still astride him, she rubbed against him. His erection pressed between her legs, his thick shaft applying tantalizing pressure as she rocked along the length of him.
They’d showered together, soaping each other thoroughly—so very thoroughly—then filled the tub. The motel might be low budget on style and housekeeping, but it had an unending hot-water tank.
Warmth lapped around them. Her soaked hair clung to her body. Her cheek sealed to his chest with the moisture, his heartbeat steady in her ear. “I can’t believe we finally had sex.”
One hand cupped her bottom, the other skimmed up and down her spine. “It was inevitable, once you showed up in my life again. Don’t you think?”
She tipped her face up to look at him. “You knew I wanted you even when we were in the Bahamas?”
“Yes,” he confirmed simply, without arrogance, just a calm assurance. “The connection was there, undeniable. But you also made it clear then you didn’t want to act on it. I had to respect your wishes even if I didn’t understand.”
“I was scared.”
“And were you right to be afraid?” He stroked her hair away from her face with an impossibly gentle hand. “Because the last thing I want is to frighten you.”
“It’s not you. It’s me.” There was no holding back anymore, not after what they’d shared. She had to tell him what was in her heart. “I’m afraid of what you make me feel. All those feelings are so amazing, but I can’t escape the fear of being hurt, the fear of loss.”
“Then yeah, I totally understand.” His green eyes turned hazel with emotion. “What’s going on here between us is scary as hell.”
His answer stunned her.
“I’ve never heard a man admit to being afraid.”
Liam pressed a lingering kiss onto her shoulder. “Then you’ve never heard a man be honest.”
His words sent sparks showering through her body as tangible as his mouth on her skin. The grazing touch reignited the liquid fire in her veins, arousing. And yes, it unsettled her to the roots of her hair how totally it spread to every niche of her being. She was totally encompassed by the sensation, by him.
As his lips continued up her shoulder to her jaw, her ear, she wriggled against him. His body stirred against her, thickening against her stomach with rigid promise. Without thinking—just feeling—she rocked her hips, the solid length of him rubbing delicious friction against the oversensitive nub between her legs.
Spreading her legs wider, she wriggled closer, taking her pleasure higher. He cupped her bottom with both hands, guiding her, moving her faster, more precisely, until she gasped from the need clawing to be set free.
“Liam, I want—I need you inside me.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Then take me.” He repeated her words from earlier. “Take me now.”
Yes, yes, yes. She’d won this victory for both of them.
Arching up, she shivered as the air gusted over her damp body. Liam rubbed up her arms and along her back until she forgot about anything but the feel of him touching her. She gripped his wrists and brought his palms around to cup her aching breasts. She pressed more fully, her eyes drifting closed as she moved and guided his hands in just the way she wanted. His obvious approval throbbed against her.
Then his hands left her and she opened her eyes quickly, only to sigh with relief. He reached over the edge of the tub and pulled a condom from where it rested on top of a folded towel. She took the protection from his hand and covered him smoothly, taking her time to cover him, cradle him, and work him with both hands until his fingers dug into her hips.
Rising up on her knees, she positioned the thick head between her legs and lowered herself, slowly, carefully, taking all of him deep inside her.
The glide of him in and out as they moved in tandem felt too good, even more than before against the door or the tile wall. She molded her hands along the hard planes of his chest, his muscles and tendons bulging. She’d already come three times in the past couple of hours, so she just let herself enjoy the luscious sensation of his powerful strokes and soaked in the sight of him.
She was totally aroused by his wit, his honor, his assurance. But God, she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit his body totally turned her inside out with desire, passion, ragged-edged lust.
Then surprisingly, she started the climb to completion again. She quivered with the sweet build. Her head fell back. She rolled her hips faster. He thrust deeper while caressing her breasts. Steam wafted between them as if their heat ramped the temperature in the tub. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub onto the tile, but she couldn’t bring herself to care or to slow.
The waves inside increased until finally, God yes, finally, release crashed over her. Again. And again. Her cries of bliss carried along the humid air with his growl of fulfillment. He pulled her to him and locked them tighter as the waves crested… and receded.
A sigh of total satisfaction racked her body until she wilted on top of him. He hugged her tighter and they simply lay panting in the cooling water.
At some point—she lost track of time—he lifted her from the tub and she was almost too exhausted to notice the drift of air across her naked flesh. He walked into the motel room, set her feet on the ground. Anchoring her to him with one arm, he unrolled their bed linens across the mattress. He scooped her up again and rested her on the clean sleeping bag before settling alongside her.
He was snoring before his head hit the pillow. Such a man. Her man. She curled against his side, the tepid air drying the water on them both. By all rights, she should have been ready to pass out after the past couple of days and the amazing sex they’d just shared. Instead, her body went on high alert.
Was she staying awake to keep watch so he could sleep?
She didn’t know. But she couldn’t stop cataloging details. The distant thrum of music carried from the bar. Cars revved and roared out of the parking lot, the sound of spitting gravel echoing. Disco and Fang leaped from the spare bed and padded together into the bathroom. Disco always preferred cool tile on a hot day.
And through it all, she held on to the hard-bodied bulk of Liam, wondering why her teeth were still chattering. Why was she more afraid now than at any other point during this crazy roller-coaster ride the past couple days? Because Liam was right. She had been lying. Just not about anything to do with Brandon’s situation. She’d been lying to herself for years about why she avoided relationships.
She’d been fooled by Caden when he promised to turn his life around, then had pot in his car. He’d vowed he was clean and joined the service. Would he have stayed truthful over time? She would never know. She’d tried to tell herself she’d held back from love because she’d already lost her soul mate fiancé. But she’d deluded herself.
Because believing a possible lie was easier than admitting she was afraid of being betrayed again.
Chapter 13
Liam walked in the land between dreams and reality, not sure where he stood or which side he wanted to land on.
But then the ground beneath his feet was shaky in the aftermath of the earthquake that had rocked this Bahamas island. He walked with Rachel in a strange kind of companionable silence, given the world around them. The landscape had changed somewhat.
Less dust. More volunteers erected temporary housing, hammers and saws echoing while dump trucks hauled away debris from fallen structures. Engineers worked on better water and sewage removal. Red Cross workers were everywhere.
The only thing that remained the same? The appalling scent of decaying bodies, still drifting out of the remaining rubble.
What a strange feeling to hang out with a woman who actually understood his job, who had experienced a good bit of the same kinds of hell he’d seen. So she would probably understand his need to leave it behind for a few minutes before they had to plunge themselves back into the thick of it all over again.
“So, ready for our hot date?”
“Date? Is that what we’re doing here? I think not.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you that you want to sleep with me? I thought you already knew.”
She choked on a laugh. “Wow, that was corny. Really corny.”
“I thought you could use a smile.”
“You’re right, and thanks.”
“Happy to oblige, again and again.” He slid an arm around her shoulders. “So stop, drop, and roll, baby, because you’re so hot you’re on fire.”