Autumn Bliss (19 page)

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Me neither.”

He smiled. God, she loved that dimple.
She smiled back.

His gaze shifted somewhere past her head. “I don’t suppose you have any condoms in that nightstand?”

The question brought a flood of disappointment. “No.”

He dropped a kiss on her nose. “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned from the living room maybe thirty seconds later, he caught her in the middle of shimmying out of her jeans. “Hey, I was supposed to get to do that.”

She leaned back on her elbows, and with one leg bent, kicked the other one over her knee in the sexiest pose she could manage with her pants bunched at her thighs. He tossed the protection in his hand onto the bed by the pillows and tugged her jeans off with a flourish that made her grin. With only her blue satin panties left, his hot gaze moved over her body. The visual caress left her quivering in anticipation.

Her gaze was equally hungry, skimming his bare chest to follow the narrow ribbon of hair bisecting the defined lines of his trim stomach, leading down to his unzipped jeans. It disappeared beneath the waistband of his black boxer briefs—briefs that did nothing to conceal the promising bulge underneath.

He sat on the bed, bending over to untie his boots. She rolled onto her side, reaching to trace the muscled contours of his back. Her gaze sought the scar on his side, but she kept her fingers away. A lump formed in her throat when she thought of how painful it must’ve been when the wound was fresh.

As if it had a will of its own, her hand slid toward it. Only he’d toed off his boots, and now stood to remove his jeans and briefs. She caught a glimpse of tight buttocks, an impressive erection, then he stretched out beside her.

They faced each other, side by side, only inches between them. Needing to touch him, she reached out to explore the hard muscles of his chest. The dusting of hair on his pectorals tickled her palm.

His hand went to her hip, his thumb hooking the thin strip of material across her hipbone. Her breath hitched when she felt the unmistakable tremble of his fingers against her skin. She lifted her gaze to his face, surprised by the hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

A wry smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “It’s…ah, well…it’s been a while.”

Realization dawned. “Since you were in…?”

His expression tightened for a brief moment. “Yeah.”

She lifted her hand to lay her palm against his cheek, then thought better of it and trailed her fingers in a light caress down his chest, across his abs, and lower still to stroke his hard length. Hot flesh jerked, then throbbed against her palm. She gave a slow grin.

“I doubt you’ve forgotten what to do.”

His deep chuckle shook the bed. “No, but I might…be a little faster than either of us would like.” His eyebrows had risen with the admission, making it seem like a question.

“So? You’ll make up for it the second time around.”

“The second time around?”

“Yeah.”

“But no pressure, right?”

She laughed, but with his eyebrows lowered, he appeared to be considering. She wasn’t sure if it was the question of whether he’d last long enough the second time, or that there’d even
be
a second time. She hoped for both—oh, God, she really hoped for both.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

“What?”

He leaned in to kiss her neck while sliding one side of her panties down past her hip. “How about I make up for it
ahead
of time this time. Just to be sure.”

The sultry promise in his voice made her inside muscles clench in nervous anticipation. She didn’t have much experience with
that
experience. The tip of his tongue traced from behind her ear, to the underside of her jaw. Her breath shortened as she tilted her chin to expose more of her neck, and lifted her hips so he could pull the other side of her underwear down.

“I’m good with being sure this time, but what about next time?”

His laugh sent a burst of warm air across her damp skin. “Let’s take this one at a time or you’re going to totally psych me out.”

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

His mouth smothered her apology. The increased pressure rolled her onto her back, then he took his time kissing his way from her mouth to her stomach. While his hand slid the small piece of satin down the length of her legs, his tongue danced a swirl or two around her belly button.

When he shifted lower, he more than made up for anything and everything ahead of time. Her limited experience didn’t prepare her for the intense pleasure of his mouth as he skillfully took her to the brink, and over the edge.

Her orgasm shook her to the core and lasted longer than usual. Before the delicious aftershocks subsided, he was over her, inside her. She drew her knees up and out, until he was buried as deep as possible.

His jaw clenched on a groan, then he swore under his breath. Watching him struggle for control was breathtaking. She loved giving back a fraction of the pleasure he’d given her.

He started to move, and sensation took over. She lifted her hips to meet each thrust, loving the power in his lean, muscled body.

Loving him.

There was one speed this first time. Fast. Hard. He pushed up on his arms, changing the angle, making her exclaim as he hit just the right spot. In the next moment, his whole body tensed, and he climaxed with a hoarse shout.

She hugged him close as his release pulsed inside her, their damp skin sticking as they both fought to catch their breath.

“Next time will be better,” he promised, his voice ragged against her ear.

She arched her eyebrows as she turned her head to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m pretty damn good with the first time.”

Chapter 22

After a quick trip to the bathroom to discard the condom, Levi returned to the bedroom to find Mallory sitting up against the headboard, the sheet tucked under her armpits. As always, her beautiful smile warmed him from the inside out. He turned off the bedside lamp, and slipped beneath the covers with her.

He curved his arm around her back and pulled her close. Things had felt right at the festival. They felt even more right here in bed with her.

She snuggled against his left side, head on his chest as she slid her arm across his stomach. As if guided by a heat seeking missile, her fingers brushed over the ugly, disfigured flesh on his right side.

He’d managed to block that from his mind before—now there was no avoiding the subject. Tension stole in, like always. His hand flexed against her arm. He could no more control it than he could’ve avoided falling in love with her.

She’d asked him to tell her about it later.

He’d said yes.

Later was now.

Beneath her cheek, his heart danced to a rapid beat. He waited for her to ask for what he’d promised, but instead, silence remained. Her acceptance that he would reveal his secrets when he was ready spoke to him on a level he’d never before experienced.

Head back against the headboard, he closed his eyes. Images burst to life behind his eyelids, blurred a bit around the edges, but still clear enough to shorten his breath and force his eyes back open.

He focused his gaze on the shadows cast by the moonlight streaming through the window; his mind on the soothing motion of her light back and forth caress along his forearm.

“I spent a total of nine months in Afghanistan,” he began. The words came out low and gravelly, and he cleared his throat to continue. “The first tour was fine—as fine as a tour in a hell-hole war zone can be, anyway.”

She continued her caress, back and forth, only slower. As if the movement was now more absent as she listened.

“Three months into my second tour, we were on a routine patrol, until a report of a suspected IED detoured our route and we were sent to disarm it. About two blocks from our destination, we came under heavy gunfire, and the lead truck was hit pretty hard with a bomb. No casualties, but I found out later two of our guys lost limbs, and a number of others were wounded.”

“You found out later?”

She’d picked up on that quick.

“It was chaos. Small weapons fire coming from all around, the front truck in flames, smoke everywhere. We sought cover, but I was separated from my squad and captured by the insurgents.” He stopped and drew in a deep breath. Even with deliberately keeping things brief, it was difficult to voice the words.

Her hand stilled on his arm, then slid to his side. His stomach muscles clenched in reaction, like earlier when she’d first discovered the scar. He was amazed she was willing to touch it again.

“Is this from the explosion, or did they do this to you?”

They.
Her voice deepened at the end, laced with anger in his defense. It gave him the courage to continue.

“They put me in a dirt cell. It was small. Hot. After the first few days, time blurred. They tried numerous methods to extract information…” He recalled some, others, thankfully, remained locked away in his subconscious. “The scar came by way of a hot iron—their way of upping the stakes when other…techniques didn’t work.”

The physical pain had long since faded in his memory, but the distinct, nauseating scent of his flesh burning still had the power to turn his stomach.

“I passed out. When I woke up, I was on a military transport plane to Landstuhl Medical Center in Germany. Mark came to see me later, when I returned stateside. He’d led a team in a nighttime raid to get me out. Best I could recall, it had maybe been five days. He told me nine. They had to verify some intel before they could get the op authorized.”

Her fingertips lightly traced the scar. Unable to help himself, he grasped her hand and pulled it away.

“Does it hurt?” she asked with concern.

“No. I just…it’s ugly. Doesn’t it repulse you?”

“No. Never.” There was no hesitation in her denial. She lifted her head, her brown gaze finding his though the shadows. “It’s a part of who you are, Levi. A part of your past, what you’ve endured, survived, overcome. It symbolizes what you gave for your fellow soldiers, your country. For all of us, including me.”

A lump formed in his throat.

“I hate that this happened to you, but I…” She trailed off and didn’t finish her sentence as she laid her head back on his chest.

Against his ribs, where her bare skin met his, he felt the sudden increase of her heartbeat. With every fiber of his being, he wanted her to add the words he imagined in his head.

I love you.

“I’m glad you came home.”

Not what he was hoping for, but again, he’d take what he could get. She was leaving in the morning, he could hardly expect she’d tell him she loved him. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe this was just her way of saying goodbye.

That thought sliced deep, but he knew he had to be prepared for the truth.

“The…um…”

When she paused, he prompted, “What?”

“The cell is why you don’t like enclosed spaces, isn’t it?”

Amazed she’d picked up on that, he concentrated on the light caress of her breath on his skin. “Yes.”

“And why you like it here at the lodge. Why you fit here, where you can do your own thing.”

“Yes. And it’s getting better.”

“Good. Thank you for trusting me with that,” she murmured. “I’m glad you’re here, and I’m really glad you’ve started smiling again.”

“You’ve given me plenty to smile about.” Lips curved upward, he leaned his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. Her hand rubbed over his chest, then trailed down over his stomach. The light touch tickled, and he controlled the reaction with effort. He was getting real twitchy when her hand dipped below his waist and reawakened desire.

Her persistent, stimulating touch hardened him to the point he ached to be inside her again. Thank God he was up for a second time
.

He reached down for her hand, threaded their fingers together, then rolled her over onto her back, pinning her arms above her head. “I promised you better. Ready?”

She grinned up at him. “Give it your best shot, soldier.”

Chapter 23

Oh my God.

Levi’s idea of ‘better’ was
so
much better than she’d ever imagined. The man had stamina, and this time he held on until her climax triggered his. The intensity of their connection shook her to the core, solidifying her decision that he was worth any sacrifice she’d make.

Now, after one a.m., she was sleepy, extremely satisfied, and snuggled against his side while he lay on his back.

They hadn’t yet spoken about what this step meant for the two of them, but she was pretty confidant with her guess. She’d unpack in the morning. After she called Barbara Scott to apologize for backing out on the job.

She smiled her bliss as she traced a pattern through the light smattering of dark hair on his chest. “Is this your oh so clever way of asking me to stay?”

His whole body stiffened against hers. “No. I…I’m not going to do that.”

Regret deepened his voice, confusing her as much as his abrupt statement. Her pulse skipped as she fought a frown. “Why not?”

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “I think you got the wrong idea here.”

Those
words did not confuse. No, they dumped an icy cold dose of reality over her head.

She pushed up to see his face. “You didn’t come here tonight to ask me to stay?”

Oh my God, Mal, quit asking him that! It sounds needy and pathetic.

“No.” A note of frustration crept into his tone. “See—this is why I wanted to talk first.”

Any last, lingering illusion of a happy ever after vanished.

Heart jammed in her throat, she swallowed hard as he sat up and turned on the light. Seeing the dismay in his tense expression, she knew she’d grossly misread everything. But, if he hadn’t come to ask her to stay, why the hell
had
he come?

Her gaze raked over his bare chest as her fingers clutched the sheet to her breasts.

Well,
duh
.