Washington D.C.
Lifting the bag of frozen peas she was using as an ice pack, Devon winced at the mess revealed beneath the bandages she’d unwound from her left knee.
It was swollen to twice its size, mottled with purple and yellow bruises, and bearing five inch-long surgical incisions closed by Steri-strips.
The wounds might be small, but that was because the real damage was on the inside where the surgeon had drilled holes in her bones.
He’d threaded through a tendon he’d harvested from her own hamstring, then anchored them in place with two inch-long titanium staples.
Right now, that was all that held her knee joint together.
Not to mention the screws that now held the piece of her tibial plateau in the spot it had been before the accident.
Damn, it
hurt
.
She tossed the cold, soggy bag of veggies onto the dish towel she’d left on the coffee table and let out a weary sigh.
At this point in her recovery the pain wasn’t bad enough to keep her awake unless she moved wrong.
She was going out of her ever-loving mind being stuck all by herself until the Army docs cleared her to go home.
Her big accomplishment for the day had been crawling into the shower to wash her hair and shave her legs for the first time since the surgery.
And she’d sat on the shower floor the entire time.
She had to admit she felt the best she had since the accident, but the depression was wearing on her.
The doctors had told her she had at least six to nine months before she’d be able to even think about getting behind the controls of a bird.
Even longer before she could return to active duty.
Which meant she had a hell of a long wait before she could get back to Bagram and be near Cam.
He’d called her twice since her arrival stateside, once the day after her flight, and the other two days afterward.
I’m sorry, baby
, he’d told her.
I wish like hell I could be there for you.
It wasn’t his fault.
God, she wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for what he and the others had done out in the field.
Thinking back to that awful day made tears clog her throat.
For godsake, stop crying like a little girl.
She blamed it on her fatigue level.
She was tired and uncomfortable and depressed, not to mention lonely as hell.
Every minute spent apart from Cam made her miss him all the more.
The ache in her heart was worse than the pain in her knee, and was made almost unbearable by the knowledge it might be months before she saw him again.
No way could she go back to Bagram right now, not that the military would give her clearance anyhow.
If they’d been married, maybe, but not just because they were in love and she missed him so much she ached.
The phone rang in the kitchenette.
Startled, she grabbed her crutches and struggled onto her right foot, moving as fast as she could.
Very few people had her number.
Her heart started to race.
Maybe it was Cam.
If it wasn’t, it was either her mom or her eldest brother.
They were due in within the next few days, and she couldn’t wait for the company.
Reaching the breakfast bar, she balanced on one crutch and snatched the cordless phone up.
Her knee pounded like a drum from the rush of blood.
She winced.
“Hello?”
A second’s pause filled the line.
“Hey, beautiful.”
She closed her eyes as her heart rolled over in her chest.
“Hey.”
“How you feeling?”
“Okay.” God it hurt to hear his voice.
“How are you?”
“Doing the best I can, but I miss you like hell.”
She bit her lip.
“I miss you too.” Damn, hearing his voice put her a second away from bawling.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d catch you at home.”
Home?
She smothered a bitter laugh and glanced around her hotel room.
“I’m here all day today.
No appointments.” No appointments, no friends except for her current neighbor, seventy-three year old Mrs.
Roberts who came by twice a day to check on her.
No cable TV, and only two news station.
Most of the time she couldn’t stomach watching it because they were always broadcasting stories of death and destruction from Afghanistan.
The only thing that had saved her sanity was the Internet connection and the laptop another patient had lent her.
She checked her watch.
Would be almost seven in the morning his time.
“You just getting in?” She couldn’t disguise the note of concern in her voice.
“No, I didn’t go out last night.”
“Oh, that’s g—”
A sharp knock interrupted her.
She glanced toward the front door in annoyance.
Much as she appreciated Mrs.
Roberts’ kindness, she couldn’t answer the door without putting the phone down because she needed both hands to use her crutches.
She hated the thought of losing even one second of her airtime with Cam.
“Dev?”
“Sorry.” She jammed the phone between her ear and shoulder, determined not to miss a moment of hearing his voice.
It was all that got her through the endless days.
“Someone’s at the door.
If I accidentally hang up on you, call me back.”
“It’s okay, I’ll wait.
Or I can just call back.”
“
No
.” The word came out much sharper than she’d intended.
“Just bear with me.
I’m multitasking.”
Mrs.
Roberts knocked again.
“Coming,” Devon called, shoving down her annoyance as she hobbled to the door.
“You still there?” she asked Cam.
“Yep.
Not going anywhere.”
She managed not to fall and do any more damage to herself on the tricky transition from carpet to slippery white eighties-style tile in the foyer.
Propping herself up on her crutches, she unlocked the latch and deadbolt.
She swung the door open, expecting to find her blue-haired neighbor on her doorstep.
Instead she met a pair of sparkling eyes the color of the ocean.
She dropped the phone with a gasp.
“Oh my God,
Cam
—” She launched herself at him.
Her eyes filled with tears when his arms closed around her.
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest.
“Hey, Spike.” He held her tight, her toes dangling a few inches off the floor.
His body was warm and solid and he smelled like sin.
The muscles in his arms bunched as he squeezed her.
His grip was hard enough that it almost bruised, but it was exactly what she needed.
“Oh God,” she repeated roughly, burying her face in his neck, clinging tight.
“Surprise,” he whispered against her hair.
“What are you doing here?”
“I managed to get a few days’ leave.
You’ve got me until seventeen hundred hours Thursday night when my flight leaves.”
A choked laugh escaped her.
Then she raised her head to look at him, and his expression stole the air from her lungs.
Yearning and hunger, so strong it echoed inside her.
He let her slide down the length of his body, until her right foot touched the cold tile, but he didn’t let her go.
She couldn’t wait another second.
Tilting her head, she leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him.
Cam groaned and cupped her face.
He held her steady around the waist with one arm as he raised her up again and got them across the threshold into the apartment.
When he went to set her down, Dev wrapped her good leg around his hips and the kiss turned desperate.
The glide of his tongue against hers sent shivers racing across her skin.
He kept walking, his free hand moving to her hips and he broke the kiss just long enough to locate her bedroom down the short hall from the kitchen.
It was awkward holding onto him without banging her knee, but he solved that by bending down to scoop one arm beneath the knees and the other around her back.
She smiled up at him, her belly doing a little flip at the effortless show of strength.
His lips brushed over hers gently and the next thing she knew, he pulled back the covers and laid her down against the soft flannel sheet.
Before she could protest the loss of his embrace, he piled up two pillows beneath her injured knee.
Lying down beside her, he propped himself up on one arm to look at her and smooth her hair back.
“God I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
Devon took his face in her hands and drew him down to kiss him, curving her back and tugging to bring him closer.
She missed his warmth and strength.
Wanted to feel his weight pressing her down into the softness of the mattress.
Instead he pulled her hands away and sat up.
“Wha—”
“Shh.” Cam’s eyes trailed over her body, pausing at her knee.
His long fingers were gentle against her bruised skin.
“Sore?”
“It’s better than it was.”
“Poor baby,” he said softly, caressing her swollen skin.
The brush of his palm against her bare thigh made her suck in a sharp breath.
Cam lifted his stare, his eyes burning with love and leashed heat.
She reached for him again, pulling him down into her arms.
The instant he stretched out and came down on top of her a loud moan boiled out of her throat.
She’d waited a long time for this…He growled against her ear, his big body vibrating with tension.
His lips feathered a path across her jaw and down her throat, his tongue flicking out to tease her skin.
She squirmed closer, arching into him.
He felt like heaven, warm and solid and strong.
Even better than she remembered.
Her hands ran over his wide shoulders and down his back, tracing the thick ridges of muscle on either side of his spine.
Without warning he sat up on his knees and gripped the bottom hem of his T-shirt, tearing it over his head before dropping it to the carpeted floor.
Devon pulled in a deep breath and stared at his naked torso.
Her fingers went to the contoured muscles of his chest and glided down over his ribbed abdomen.
A delighted shiver went through her at the knowledge she was going to have all that raw power up against her naked skin in a matter of moments.
Cam leaned down and took her face between his hands as he brought his mouth down on hers.
He kissed her hard, the pulsing hunger between them growing wilder until the heat of it licked over her skin.
The silken stroke of his tongue against hers made the muscles in her core contract sharply, sending a flood of warmth between her legs.
Empty and aching, she raised her good knee and pushed up off the bed to press against his thick thigh.
She moaned again, growing desperate, and he swallowed the sound, one hand fisting in her hair to hold her still for his kiss.
When his other hand slid between her breasts and down her belly to the hem of her shirt, she lifted her back to help him, wishing he’d hurry.
He pulled it over her head and threw it aside, his eyes fixed on her black lace bra.
The muscles in his jaw flexed as he stared at her, making the ache inside her even worse.
She started to reach behind herself to undo the clasp, but he stopped her, grabbing her hands in one of his.
When she looked up into his face, her breath caught.
He was panting, his chest rising and falling with his uneven inhalations, his eyes glittering with raw lust.
A primitive thrill raced through her that she could elicit that reaction from a man like him.
Before she could say anything, he squeezed his eyes shut and leaned down to press his face into the side of her neck.
The grip on her hair tightened to the point of pain.
She licked her lips.
“Cam?”
He shook his head, a tight movement of denial.
“Cam, what’s wrong?”
He cursed and held her tighter.
“
Help
me,” he rasped.
Her senses dizzy from the scent and feel of him, it took a few moments for the words to register.
She stroked her fingers through his thick, soft hair.
“Help you?”
His head moved against her hand, as much a show of helpless pleasure as it was a nod.
“Help me slow down.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t want you to slow down—”
“I want to be gentle,” he said roughly, his warm breath tickling her neck.
“But I’m so fucking turned on right now all I can think about is pounding into you.”
His words sent another wave of heat pooling between her thighs, bringing a strangled whimper to her throat.
“Cam, it’s okay.” God, she was
so
okay with that.
Her voice was breathy, full of need.
That’s what she wanted, to feel him filling her, stretching her.
She wanted to feel his muscles bunch and shift as he moved in and out of her, wanted to hear the sounds he made while he found pleasure in her body.