Blind Fury (26 page)

He must have fallen asleep at some point because when he opened his eyes, Jenna was lying on the blanket in the center of the room. Facing away from him, she had wrapped herself into a ball.

Crawling over to the blanket, he stretched out next to her, careful not to violate her personal space. Her back stiffened, but she didn’t turn or speak. He longed to mold himself to her, warm her with his heat, run his hands along her curves. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he couldn’t even begin to express. But nothing was adequate. Nothing could make this better. And without all his charm, he had nothing to offer.

Still, he had to try to comfort her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted to protect you. I wanted your memories of Rob to be untarnished, because no matter what happened, he was the best of men. I would have given anything for it to have been me instead.”

She sat up and faced him then. “Don’t say that.”

He stayed on his side, worried she might bolt if he moved. “Tell me you haven’t thought it.”

Her eyes dropped and she stared at her hands.

Wow. That hurt even more than he’d expected. “It’s okay. I figured as much.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been lying here thinking about everything that happened, and I’m glad you’re alive. It’s not fair to blame you.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and looped her arms around them. “I did at first. I was angry. At you, at Smitty, at Rob for putting himself in danger. Rob was all I had left, Mick, and he knew it, but he still kept going back to that place to dodge bullets and IEDs and suicide bombers.

“After Jimmy died, I needed my brother more than ever, but he left anyway. Why couldn’t I be enough for him?”

He wanted to hold her, but he didn’t dare. “We’re flawed, Jenna. Guys like us don’t know how to have normal lives anymore. When we’re over there, we hate it. When we’re home, we think we’re going to die if we don’t go back. When you’re used to every day being life and death, the peace and normalcy of home feels false. Meaningless. The rush of war is like a drug. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

She rested her chin on her knees and studied him, her features drawn in sadness. “When you and Rob were in the Air Force, I worried all the time, but I was proud of what you did. There’s honor in putting yourself in harm’s way to rescue others. I told anyone who would listen that my brother was a PJ. One of the elite.”

Mick didn’t want to hear it, but he didn’t stop her. Hell, this was no more than what he deserved.

A tear slid down her cheek, but she let it go. “I’m sure working for Claymore gave Rob the adventure and adrenaline rush he craved, but it was all about the money. Where’s the honor in that?”

“He did it for Jimmy,” Mick reminded her. And to take the burden off her. But the decision had haunted Rob. He’d admitted as much to Mick once after a few drinks, but he’d never regretted doing what he thought was the right thing for his family.

“You think I don’t know that?” she asked. “We both felt helpless watching Jimmy waste away in that coma. And if he’d lived, the expenses would have been staggering. But after he died, Rob could have come home. He
should
have.”

“He tried over and over after Jimmy died. Hell, you know that. But by then, it was too late,” Mick said. “He didn’t know any other way of life. He was hooked.”

“Like you,” she said.

He nodded. “Like me.”

“I know why Rob joined Claymore, but why did you do it? You could have stayed with the PJs.”

Mick rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Why does anybody go private? Money. I figured, hey, same thrill and quadruple the pay? What’s not to like?”

“I’m sensing a ‘but.’”

If he opened himself up to her, would it change anything? He’d still be a murderer. He’d still be a wreck. “In the military, the camaraderie, the sense of team and brotherhood can’t be matched. We’re all in it together, none of us can walk away no matter how bad it gets, and any of us would die to save the other. You can do anything knowing the guys have your back.

“Contractors, not so much. It’s every man for himself. We’re there for the rush and the money, and that’s it. It’s kill or be killed, and there were only a few men I trusted enough to risk my life for.”

“It sounds awful,” she said, rubbing her face and switching to a cross-legged position. “The job doesn’t seem worth it just for a flashy car and upscale condo that you hardly get to use. Are you saving up for something?”

His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “You know those bumper stickers that say ‘my son and my money go to MIT’? It’s like that, only it’s my brother.”

She leaned forward, a questioning look on her face. “You have a brother?”

“Two actually, but Adam’s a prodigy. He got into MIT, but couldn’t get enough financial aid to go, so my mom asked if I could help.” Had he managed to keep the resentment out of his voice? He hoped so. If anyone deserved a hand out of the trailer park, it was Adam. What torqued Mick off was that his mother had never advocated for him or Doug. Maybe if he’d had an off-the-charts IQ, she would have cared more.

“And that’s when you quit the Air Force.”

“Yeah. My service commitment was up. The timing was perfect.” He’d given up his dream for his brother’s dream. Because Adam still had the chance to be a whole person, a productive member of the population. He'd only suffered their father’s presence until the age of seven. He probably barely remembered the man.

Lucky kid.

Jenna looked sad. “I’m sorry I never asked about your family before. I don’t even know where you grew up.”

“Dayton. And it’s not your fault. Family’s not my favorite subject.”

She studied him for a few seconds, then yawned and lay back down. “We should get some sleep.” Slowly, wordlessly, she scooted back until she was pressed against the length of him. “It’s cold in here.”

He took that as a hint, but not an outright invitation, and rolled onto his side, pulling her tightly to him. God, she was tempting, but he didn’t want to scare her away, so he left his arm slung over her waist but rested his hand on the blanket in front of her stomach.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

In the dark, he listened to her breathing. If his heart stopped right now, he’d die happy. Unfortunately, morning would intrude soon enough. And after he set the rest of his plan into motion tomorrow, nothing would ever be the same again.

Jenna woke on Thursday morning encapsulated by Mick. His heat, his scent, his warm breath on her neck. Sometime during the night, his carefully neutral hand had tucked under her hip and pulled her closer.

It would be so easy to roll over and kiss him. She desperately wanted to. She’d had several hours of restless sleep after their talk last night. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she would have done in their shoes.

How scary it must be working in a foreign country where it feels like everyone wants to kill you. She didn’t condone what happened, but maybe she could understand it. And now that her emotions had cooled, she wasn’t so eager to blame Mick. For being involved or for coming home alive.

She was glad he hadn’t died alongside her brother. Her anger and grief over Rob’s choices and their ultimate outcome had found a handy target in Mick, but she loved him too much to wish things had turned out differently.

Besides, it wasn’t his fault that Rob had stayed too long. And, according to Mick, it wasn’t her fault either. She loved him for saying so, even if she didn’t quite believe it.

And she loved him for protecting her, despite the risk to himself. He had become the dependable, honorable man she’d always suspected he was capable of being.

Sure, he had a few problems. A few rough edges to smooth out. And he probably needed some counseling. She could help with all of that. Once they were safe again, she could return his loyalty by sticking with him through the aftermath, no matter what happened.

Never mind that they were currently running for their lives. This wouldn’t last forever, and she had nothing but possibilities ahead of her. She would go wherever Mick wanted to be. She only needed to convince him to let someone else do the dirty work in the Middle East. He’d done his fair share.

Flipping to face him in the pale light of dawn, she stroked the stubble on his cheek, letting the rough hair tickle her palm. His eyes opened and he stared at her, the question clear on his face. Without giving him time to speak, she kissed him.

His muscles tensed, and he pulled back. “Jenna, you don’t—“

“Shh.” She captured his mouth again and fitted her body against his, snuggling into his warmth and sending shivers of delight along her skin.

And then it was as if someone had flipped a switch. He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him, his hands roaming everywhere. They were under her shirt and over her jeans, cupping her buttocks. His hand pressed her into his erection and his mouth left a hot trail along her jaw and down her neck.

Little noises of delight escaped her lips as her whole body lit up with desire. He grasped her under the arms and lifted her higher, pushing her shirt over her head. She’d removed her bra to sleep, and when he encountered her bare breast, he groaned and latched on.

A current zinged straight from his mouth to her groin.
More, more, more.
The things he was doing with his tongue and hands were driving her insane. She wanted to mesh with him completely, become one body, one soul, one mind.

“Take your pants off,” he commanded in a hoarse whisper, yanking at her zipper.

She stood over him and pulled them down, watching him watch her. He reached up and snagged her panties, and she stood there bare, trapped by his gaze. The only thing that saved her from dying of embarrassment was his groan.

He whipped his shirt off and tugged her down onto her knees, circling his arms around her thighs, moving her in toward his mouth. Both shocked and titillated, she placed her hands on his chest for support and closed her eyes.

“Yum,” he murmured, putting his mouth on her, stirring additional sensations with his fingers as he expertly teased her to new heights.

He used his tongue and lips relentlessly, pulling her higher until she almost couldn’t bear it. Then his fingers slipped inside her, unleashing wave after wave of pleasure that pulsed from her core and out along her limbs. She bit back a cry and tried to collapse onto his chest.

“Uh-uh. I’m not done with you yet,” he said, giving her a wicked smile. “Not by a long shot.”

Mick loved watching Jenna unravel under his touch. He hadn’t expected her to ever want his touch again. And he still couldn’t shake the belief that when this was all over she was going to change her mind. Just in case this was the last time he had her naked in his arms, he’d make damn sure she never forgot it.

He brought her to climax so many times he lost count, and when she finally slid limply to his chest, he was in danger of coming at the slightest contact. Which might be a good thing, because he didn’t have any condoms. She sprawled across him, her breath slowing along with her heartbeat. He trailed his fingers down her back and tried to conjure calming images.

After a few minutes she pushed up onto her knees and patted his hip. “Let me see it.”

“What?” But he knew.

She wanted to see his pararescue tattoo. The tradition that dated back to Vietnam, when the helicopters the PJs took to rescue downed pilots had been dubbed Jolly Green Giants.

Mick stripped out of his pants and boxers, and flipped onto his stomach to show her the small pair of green footprints inked on his butt cheek.

She kissed the back of his neck and then covered the artwork with her palm. “You’re still that man. The one who earned this.”

Tears burned behind his eyes and he rolled over to take her in his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She gave him a long, slow, exploratory kiss, rubbing her body along his, quickly rekindling his desire. At that moment he would have killed for a condom. “Jenna, honey,” his voice cracked. “I don’t have any—“

Her finger touched his lips. “Your turn,” she said, scooting down his torso, planting wet kisses on his chest and stomach.

His cock pulsed in anticipation.
Calm, calm, ice water, cold showers, Mrs. Burkowicz from third grade…

Her mouth closed over him and he almost lost it right then. She was wicked, licking, sucking, and stroking until he passed the point of no return. He didn’t want to lose control with her. “Ah, baby. I can’t—” He half-heartedly pushed her away.

Ignoring his protest, she sucked him from base to tip and then back again. He trembled with the effort to hold back, but then she cupped his balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. The move was so unexpected that he let go with a cry, his body exploding into pure light. Jenna took everything he had to give without complaint, and rose above him with a shy smile.

He came back to himself lazily, suspended in a haze of pure pleasure. His head buzzed, his fingers tingled, and his limbs were too heavy to move, so he just watched her. She was so beautiful in the dawn glow, her face still flushed. He wanted to see her like this every morning of his life.

She planted a kiss on his stomach and he jerked his hips, laughing, suddenly sensitive and ticklish.

“Sorry,” she said, stretching out on top of him to rest her head on his chest.

“I’m not.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, giving his hip a playful slap.

“I know.” He stroked her hair, sifting the silken curls through his fingers. “That was…You’re…”

She lifted her head to look at him.

“I love you.”

The words tumbled out before he realized what he was going to say. Telling her hadn’t been part of his plan, but he wanted her to know that she was more than just good sex, more than a fling to him.

He didn’t know how else to express all that.

Her lips parted and she smiled as if he’d given her a gift. “I love you too,” she said, planting a quick kiss on him before dropping her head to his chest again and squeezing him tight.

I’m sorry.

A
WARM
GLOW
SPREAD
through Jenna’s body as she lay in Mick’s arms. The arms of the man she loved. The arms of the man who loved her back. Jenna could face anything now that she knew that. For the first time in days, she felt hopeful.