Until There Was You (Coming Home, #2) (17 page)

“I have it on good authority that I was not the only one who pissed my pants that day.” Some of the tension went out of his shoulders then. His mouth relaxed. Just a little, but it was enough to take the edge off.

Not enough to keep Claire from being drawn to him, inexplicably, by a force she could not explain. He was everything that was tormented, sensual, male.

“I never figured that training for combat would never be the same again after
doing it for real,” she said quietly. She turned away from the want pounding inside her, ignoring the sensual warmth from the man sitting so close to her. Heat engulfed her, wrapped around her.

Made her blood sing with arousal and unsatisfied desire.

“Yeah. It makes a difference when you know that someday, the fake blood will be real.” Evan scoffed quietly. He paused. “I think the only one who didn’t nearly shit himself after that house blew up was Reza.”

The memory of that town, of that battle stirred a maelstrom of emotions inside her. Twisted and tormented. “I think he got drunk when we got back to base after that mission,” she admitted softly. “I couldn’t find him for half a day, and when I did …”

Evan studied her quietly for a moment. “You didn’t turn him in.”

“Why would I?” A shadow fell across her heart. A memory of having her life uprooted and destroyed all because she’d finally told someone about the extent of her father’s drinking. She pinned him with a thoughtful look and a wry smile. “I look after people I care about.” She stared into the fire, lost in a maze of tangled memories.

Evan inched closer to her. He boxed her in between the wall and the fire and the heat from his body, and she fought the brief panic that gripped her heart. “What were you thinking about just then?” he whispered, sitting far too close.

Panic edged up, cloying and grasping and making it difficult for her to breathe. Cool air kissed her skin as his fingers gathered the weight of her hair from her neck.

She tipped her chin, arching her neck in subtle invitation. “This is a bad idea,” she whispered.

“Probably.” He nipped her ear hard enough that pleasure spiked with pain shot through her body to the vee between her thighs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Only if you want to die,” she murmured. He shifted, and in a single moment pulled her against him, so that she was cradled between his thighs. His chest pressed to her back, his arousal grazing her backside.

His breath was hot on her neck, his deep voice rumbling through his body and into hers. “I have a confession.”

“Hmm?” Sensation slithered through her body, twisting and writhing with the lingering strain from the day.

He traced the edge of her ear with the tip of his tongue, sending fire sparking through her veins. “It’s been a really long time for me.”

She smiled, resting her head back against his shoulder. He slipped his hands over her belly, stroking her gently. “A warrior monk. I knew it.”

His laugh rumbled through his body, shaking her gently. “Not exactly.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “But I want to do this right.”

“I was right. A perfectionist.” She smiled and shifted closer. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. You don’t exactly have a lot of competition.”

Behind her, he stiffened and she winced—she’d revealed far too much. “Bad lovers, or not enough lovers?”

The warmth of his body drew her closer, urging her into the promise of his embrace. She played her palms over his thighs, feeling the hard muscles beneath the soft fabric of his jeans. “Does it matter?” she whispered.

“Not really.” His breath was hot on her cheek, his mouth nibbling over the tiny curve of her jaw. “But …”

Her breath caught in her throat as he sucked gently on the skin beneath her ear, his big body wrapping around her. Too close. She inched away slightly.

“Answer me something?” he asked, his voice soft. “Why do you always back away when I touch you?”

“Evan, this isn’t a good time to go all amateur psychiatrist on me,” she whispered, losing some of the fight to maintain control.

She felt his lips curl against her ear and an unexpected laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “Ever tried naked psychiatry?”

Her blood warmed, burning through the bad memories to the good that she did not deserve and could not hold on to, no matter how tightly she squeezed. The lingering edge of arousal pumped through her veins, slower now, but still potent.

Evan was here. And tonight, she understood him a little better. Understood that losing his sister when he was little more than a child had shaped the man he was. He’d shown her the scarred, damaged man beneath his uniform. She admired the hell out of that man.

He would not see the same thing if he looked closely at her jaded past. No matter how much her blood pumped in her ears, no matter how much the heat pooled between her thighs, she wanted her own past to stay buried.

* * *

He craved Claire, but more, he craved her trust, this woman who was so convinced that she needed no one. Gently, so gently, he traced a single finger down the line of her neck.

He wanted. Oh God how he wanted this woman. And with a single touch, he had shattered her barriers. He knew it when she tilted her neck to one side, the barest hint of movement. He knew it when her throat moved against his finger as she swallowed and did not pull away.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, lowering his mouth to hover just above her pulse.

He traced his finger along the gentle slope of her jaw, their bodies separated by the barest hint of space. “Claire?” He blew on her skin, savoring the shiver that ran through her body and crossed the space into his. “Say yes, Claire.”

A whimper tore from her throat. Pleasure surged through his veins, his cock hard and aching. He caressed the sensitive skin of her neck, but he would not give her what she wanted until she said it. “Say yes, Claire,” he murmured. With infinite slowness, he traced the line of her jaw with the tip of his tongue, cradling her body against his.

She moaned low in her throat, refusing to answer. Everything about her was a challenge. To his sanity. To his livelihood. To the wholeness of his very soul. A maddening, frustrating challenge that burned in his belly. He pressed his lips to that sensitive skin then, allowing her the first round, even as he wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her hard against him. He suckled her throat, felt her pulse racing beneath his lips as she molded herself against him, a shiver ripping through them both.

She arched against him, rubbing her cheeks against his erection, and it was Evan’s turn to groan as his cock chafed against the zipper of his pants. He rocked his hips against her, feeding on the sensation of her body against his. He wanted her naked. He wanted her stripped and vulnerable.

He curled his lips against her neck, then nipped at her earlobe before he yanked her shirt over her head in a single jerk.

She shivered violently at the sudden snap of cold against her skin, but he pulled her against him again before she could register what he’d done. “That’s mean,” she hissed.

“You’re the one who’s not cooperating.”

He held her close, loving the feeling of her body against his. He stroked his hands over her belly, her ribs, memorizing the shape of her before he eased her back. He’d meant to press his lips to the back of her neck.

Dozens of tiny scars crisscrossed her back, white lines against pale skin.

His gasp was a sharp, biting hiss in the silence. Her body went tense beneath his touch. He closed his eyes, his vision crossed with the razor-thin lines that threaded the skin on her back. He wanted to push, to demand the answers that would ease his burning desire to hurt the person who’d done this to her.

* * *

Claire could have sworn she felt the heat of his gaze sweep over the damaged flesh. She could not force herself to relax as she waited for him to speak.

“This is not a combat injury,” he murmured, his voice shaking with barely restrained rage. “Is it?”

“No. It’s not.” Claire felt exposed and vulnerable. Her heart trembled in her chest, skittering against her breast. She tried to pull away then, needing to stop the bloodletting before it began. “Just another piece of history.”

Neither of them moved. Neither of them made a sound in the ragged silence. Then he slowly pulled her against him, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her throat. And Claire could have wept for the relief that crashed through her.

* * *

With a gentleness he did not feel, Evan cradled her body against his. He’d never guessed that the scars she carried would be physical. She hid so much beneath the rank on her chest, the grey uniforms she wore everywhere. She was filled with shame, he realized, when she had nothing to be ashamed of. He cradled her against him and pressed his lips to the scars crisscrossing her back. Had anyone ever loved her, just for her? “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. Her fingers tightened against his forearms.

And he started again. Slow strokes down her arms. Skimming her belly. Teasing the heavy weight of her breasts without fully cupping her and then gently removing her bra. Lying against her side, he angled his body until he could nip the side of her breast. He smiled at her tiny, surprised cry as she relaxed with his touch, her tension turning lithe and sensual.

“Patience isn’t my strong point, Loehr,” she growled, sounding like a fierce, wounded kitten, rotating her hips against his. They were still on the floor in front of the fire, their bodies covered in the warm, flickering heat from the live flames.

“Hmm.” He held her gaze then as he traced the slope of her breast, moaning deep in his throat when her nipple puckered to a hard point beneath his touch. Her mouth parted, her lips swollen and glistening and pink, her breath a quiet gasp when he moved up her body gently, so gently, scraping her throat with his teeth.

He toyed with her breasts, careful not to cover her and box her in, remembering her panic about being cornered. His fingers journeyed lower, tracing faint lines over the soft curve of her belly. She shifted, parting her knees in silent offering.

She hissed in frustration as he traced a feather-light touch down the seam of her pants. She captured his wrist and pressed his hand to her sex, grinding against it. “Demanding, aren’t we,” he murmured.

Her warm, sexy heat penetrated the soft cotton. He freed his hand, sliding it between the cotton and her skin and into her slick, wet heat. He stroked her, slowly, slowly, skimming the length of his finger against her swollen flesh.

Pleasure burned in his belly, his cock aching and hard. He moved his hips, unconsciously seeking to release the pressure building inside of him with each stroke of his finger against her slick heat. He felt her answering tension in the rise of her hips, the sheen of sweat against her skin.

Her body bowed beneath his touch, taut and tense and ready to snap. And then he stopped. A moment before she crashed and burst against his finger, he stopped.

* * *

She arched against him, her fingers digging into his forearms as she chased the release he’d denied her. Frustrated, she slapped at his arms. “I swear to all that’s holy, Evan, you’re going to die.”

He laughed.

The bastard laughed at her.

“Now I know why Sarah doesn’t date,” she growled.

He flipped her onto her back again but did not attempt to lie on top of her. “Take your pants off.”

“You first,” she said, still sulking.

His eyes were pitch black in the low light as he shifted to do as she asked.

She propped herself up on her elbows, loving the way his throat moved when he swallowed. With deliberate slowness, he teased her with a glimpse of raw male flesh as he tugged his shirt up and over his head. His dog tags hung down the center of his chest, resting on the solid wall of muscle over his heart, right at the edge of the twisting black branches.

He shucked his boots quickly and then he stood before her, her own personal fantasy. Sculpted chest, rough with hair that tapered into a thin line disappearing beneath those damned buttons.

She attempted to swallow but her mouth went dry as he flicked open the top button of his pants. The second button revealed the glistening tip of his erection.

“You went commando?” she asked.

“Haven’t had time to do laundry.”

“There goes that fantasy I had of you wearing Ranger panties.” She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes and collided with a fierce intensity she hadn’t known he was capable of.
Evan held her gaze as he dropped his pants, standing naked before her. He was perfect. “That’s a hell of a salute, soldier,” she murmured, taking in every detail of Evan’s beautiful body.

He burst out laughing, and the movement made his cock bounce as he left his pants in a pool on the floor and came over to crouch beside her. “That’s the corniest thing you could have said right now.” He leaned over and kissed her fiercely. “Your turn.”

Claire leaned back on the carpet, reveling in the feel of his gaze on her. She pulled down her pants first, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and inched them down, slowly, so slowly, until she was as naked as he was.

Claire had never thought of herself as beautiful. She was fair to middling at best, and she was certain it was the simple fact that she had a vagina that had garnered her so much attention in the male-dominated world of the army. But at this exact moment she felt radiant. Evan licked his lips, his gaze sweeping down her body to the center of her. He knelt near her feet, his hands seeking out the soft, smooth skin of her calves.

She expected him to slide up her body, kissing slowly, but nothing about this was as she’d expected.

His hands were firm and strong when he parted her thighs, pushing them wide, and for once she didn’t argue. Then he kissed her. A gentle kiss where she was swollen and throbbing. He teased her with a feather-light stroke of his tongue, a gentle flick across her exposed intimate flesh, and she arched beneath him, bowing her back off the floor. He repeated the gentle tap with his tongue and the pleasure was back, tighter, hotter and oh so exquisite.

He stroked her, using his tongue, teasing her until she was ready to snap. And when he finally, finally filled her with one teasing finger, her breath caught in her throat, frozen in that instant before she shattered.