Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) (9 page)

Mindy looks vaguely surprised but I'm unsure
why. Why wouldn't I welcome my girlfriends’ best friends? The two
people who took care of her when I couldn't? I crawl out of the SUV
and extend a hand to help Haven out as well. Wrapping an arm around
her waist, I pull her in close to me as Sir announces, “I have some
errands to run.” Thank God. “I'll be back late this afternoon.”

I nod as acknowledgment before giving Mindy a
goodbye as well. Afterward the two of us scamper across the street,
wasting no time the second we're inside. My bag drops by the front
door as I pull Haven into me, lips more desperate than before to
taste her. To be a part of her. She doesn't resist. She melts
against me, arms wrapped around me clutching onto my shirt, anxious
I'll get away. Oh. No. I'm not going anywhere without her. Lifting
her up by her ass, so her legs wrap around my waist, I carry her up
the stairs, her lips sucking, nipping, and nibbling at my jaw bone
line. My neck. My shoulder. I swear it's like she wants me to come
where I stand.

Thankfully, I make it to our room and toss
her down on the mattress. Giggling, she rips off her dress
revealing a matching white bra and thong set. Her body is radiating
sexy. Glowing with appeal. A beacon of warm light welcoming me
home. Perfect. This woman is perfect. I slide myself down between
her legs and place my lips back on hers. Hot. Hotter than they were
before. She opens her lips to welcome my tongue as she pushes her
hips up against me. Teasing my erection. Calling it to her.
Demanding its presence in the one place it's been thinking about
for the last 10 months. Home. I need to be home. And I don't know
if I can live through foreplay before I get there.

Haven slips her hands to my jeans, undoes the
button, and unzips them before I realize what's happening. The way
her tongue is moving against mine I feel like I'm in some sort of
cocoon created by the heavens. Wrapped in a soft euphoria. High but
unsure how exactly. And then my jeans fall and her soft hands are
stroking the outside of my boxer briefs, cupping me. Pulling away,
I groan in pleasure.

“I've missed you Clint...” her voice
whimpers.

My dick flexes.
No. Not from her touch you
greedy bastard
.
You have to wait until you're inside her.
Until you've pleased her. Get it together!
And when Haven rubs
her thumb across the tip and I shut my eyes another groan coming
out of me. I need her. I need her now.
Now!

I reattach my lips to hers and yank her body
up so I can finish the job of undressing her. And once my mission
is successful and we're both naked, both tangled in my sheets, both
dying to be filled by the other, I let my hands take over the duty
they have been dying to reprise. Exploring her. Discovering what I
already know. Letting her moans ignite the memories and the paths I
need to make her body remember me. Remember that I belong to it.
That I worship every single inch. And as Haven comes undone from my
fingers, I strain to keep my body from following. Now she's
writhing, flexing, crying out for more, and I can't take it any
longer.

I lay my body on top of hers and slide into
the sanctuary. The most sacred place in the entire universe. My
forehead gently pushes against her as my jaw lets out a soft moan.
A low whisper of her name, “Haven....”

“Oh. God.” She cries out loudly as I hit a
spot that warrants the response. So I keep the pace, place, and the
pressure as I hit it again. Again. Again. And now her legs are
wrapped tightly around me like a dangerous need for more. Like
she's terrified I'll let her go. As if distraught by the idea of us
being separated once more. My name fumbles off her lips again with
instructions, “Clint...don't. Stop.”

Lowering my lips down to her neck, as my hand
grips her hip to allow me to dive deeper, I respond, “Never,
angel.”

And with my hot breath and another stroke,
she unfolds again, this time singing my name is a heavenly praise
like she's experienced a miracle. Been blind but now given the gift
of sight. Been deaf but now can hear the angles sing. Been enslaved
but now given the gift of freedom. She is free. Free to call out
like this. Free to say my name whenever she wants. Free to arch
into me the way she is with her nails digging into my flesh,
anchoring on my arms. Right on top of her own name. And as she
anchors herself, I join her in the freedom to be lost in her.
Releasing all the sadness from being without her and the pain that
my days are number. Releasing the tension that only she can. I'm
once again free too. Free to live again. Even if it is only
momentarily.

Unsure of how long we've been passed out,
since it is the best sleep I've had in months, I'm slightly annoyed
when she finally starts to move underneath me. I grunt at her and
pull her body in closer. It's warm. It's soft. Mine.

“Clint, baby,” her fingers stroke my hair
keeping my eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“I have to go to school.”

Forcing my eyes open I see her staring at me,
as bright and excited as ever. Damn. I forgot she has a life now. A
real one. With places and obligations. No more just waiting for me
to get back from running errands. No more filler. No more just me.
I have to share her with the rest of the world. Not sure I like
that.

“Right.” That fancy cooking school. Madam
Phillip's Exquisite Cooking Academy. I haven't talked to her about
it in months. All communication was cut off two months in. Some
missions are like that. This was one. This was also the one that
proved to my commanding officers that they wanted me for more than
the basics. “I can't wait to hear all about it.”

She smiles brightly. “I love it, Clint! The
school is perfect!” A small giggle leaves her again as she
continues to gush, “We're so close to graduation too! I'm glad
you'll be here for it! You're going to be so proud of me!”

“Angel,” I stroke her face. “I'm already
proud of you.” And how can I not be? This girl freed herself from a
prison, overcame all the emotional pitfalls most people would've
fallen into, reinvented herself, and came out on top. Came out
strong. Came out looking like the world was hers for the enjoying.
Not to mention rescuing me in the process. How could I not be
proud?

“There's so much I'm going to have to tell
you,” she tosses off the blanket and pulls herself out of my
grip.

My eyes follow her round behind as it
relocates to the closet to grab her uniform. I love the way her
back curves. Her hips curve. Her ass curves. Damn. My dick starts
to tingle letting me know it can go another round. Fuck! I wish she
didn't have to go to school. Would it be so bad if she skipped just
once?

I realize she's been talking about something
and I was supposed to be listening by the look on her face. She
places a hand on her hip, a displeased look in her eyes. “Have you
been listening?” My eyes shoot up from lower half as she sighs
happily, “Clint Thomas Walker.”

“What do you expect? You're naked...” I shrug
and she chuckles proudly. This is new too. This pride in her body.
Letting it stand in all its glory before me. She was headed this
way when I left, but now that she's here, she's even hotter than
she was before. My cock flexes in agreement.

“I expect you to listen,” she drapes her
uniform over her arm.

Sheepishly I whisper, “Sorry...”

“You don't mind if I take your car to school
like normal do you?”

“Not at all.”

“You sure?” her nervousness for upsetting me
slightly returns.

“I'm sure, Haven. No plans today.”

“Except the party.”

I groan in displeasure. I forgot already.

“Clint...”

“Can't we just stay home and welcome me back
the way we just did?”

A slight blush comes to her cheeks. Looks
like she can't believe we did what just did a little while ago.
Twice. She giggles and shakes her head, “I'm sure after Mindy's
party I can help welcome you home a third and fourth time...”

My balls tighten in anticipation. Haven bites
her bottom lip in a teasing fashion. My cock strain against the
sheets. She has to go to school. She has to go to school. She has
to go to school. Repeating this mantra may be the only way she
makes it.

Grabbing underwear from the dresser she
informs me, “I'm heading to the shower.”

The thought of taking her against the shower
wall while water rolls over her shoulders and the tops of her boobs
causes me to grow harder. So hard now it hurts. Best kind of
pain.

“Is that a hot shower for two?”

She pauses against the door frame, the
situation from almost a year ago now in reverse. I can tell the
memory is flooding to her as it is to me by the smile on her
face.

“A cold shower for one...”

We both laugh and I let her go without
another word. Flopping my head back against the pillow, I let my
eyes fall closed. This is what life should be like. This is what
life deserves to be like.

My eyes struggle against the sandman for
custody of my consciousness. I need to wake up. I've slept away
most of the afternoon, which is very unlike me. I don't nap. I'm
not lazy. In fact before Haven I would've most likely been out for
a run and a training session by now. Yet. Here I am. Rolling out of
bed like some lazy college kid with nothing to do for the day. I
feel a smile come on. Hate to admit it, but it feels kind of
nice.

I pull on a pair of sweats and a loose white
t-shirt. My feet carry me out of my room to the stairs as dad walks
in through the front door. Surprised to see me he raises his
eyebrows and continues carrying the grocery bag in his arms.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Actually. Yeah I did, sir.”

“Lazy? Clint? That seems unnatural.” The
comment is followed by a playful fatherly look. I smirk back. It's
nice to be seen my father as his son. It's a good feeling. Seems
like there are many of those going around today.

I lean against the back of the couch while I
watch him put away food basics. Milk. Juice. Bread. Cheese. But
then other items I'm not sure about appear too. Something with a
bright yellow label and the words non-fat. Something else for the
freezer labeled organic. Either Mindy has finally gotten through to
my dad or his latest girlfriend is a health nut.

“Glad to be home?”

“Yes sir.”

He smiles and folds his arms across his chest
as if studying me. His dark blues eyes pierce me. Read the
information I don't want read. The dirt from the job that's trying
to stay left behind. Memories clawing in attempt to make scars on
my conscious. Horrors looking for a home in the forefront of my
mind. I'm glad to be home. And glad that I can put that shit in the
ground where it belongs and just enjoy my life. Even if it is for
less than a month.

“Did you tell Haven?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you've got a big career change
coming?”

“How--”

“I know the look, son. What is it?”

I hesitate, but know there's no reason to try
to deny it. “Scout Sniper School.”

With a deep breath, his chest swells with
pride. And it damn well should. He nods his approval, “When?”

“First of next month.”

And a flash of disappointment is seen. Dad
doesn't want me to leaving that soon. I'm surprised. Frustrated.
Uncomfortable. Up until Haven's arrival I just assumed he didn't
care if I was coming or going but now I know. I know how much he
loves me and hates to see me go. Reminds me of when I was little
and how I used to hate to see him go.

“You have to tell her, Slugger.”

“I know, Dad. I know. I haven't even been
home for a day yet. I just-” I cut myself off. I just want to have
a minute to breathe. Relax. Enjoy seeing her smile before making
her frown. Enjoy letting her relish in the simple fact her
boyfriend is home. And maybe for a couple days be a normal couple.
Go to dinner, hang out with friends, have sex until we pass out.
The way a normal could should act. Fuck. Since when do I give a
shit about being normal? “I just wanted today to be simple.”

“You sure that's all you wanted?”

How the hell does he does that? How does he
know? Maybe this was what it was like with him and mom. Maybe. Just
maybe.

“Come on, Slugger. I bought you something,”
he tosses his head the way of the garage for me to follow him
letting the subject die or at least I hope.

Bought me something? My birthday is a couple
weeks away but I don't celebrate it. The last time I really
celebrated it was the year mom was alive. Mindy tried the following
year to have a party and I didn't even show up. I hid in my room,
barricaded the door by pushing my dresser in front of it and
refused to come out. It was the last time anyone ever tried. Mindy
has a tendency to buy gifts, wrap them in birthday paper and leave
them on the doorstep. Sir only bought me practical things to merely
acknowledge that I was born that day. A new wallet. Shoes. A razor.
I haven't received a gift from him, face to face, in what feels
like a lifetime. He's worked every Christmas since mom died.
Christmas morning usually spent working out then wandering in just
in time for brunch and to be showered with presents. And after I
hit 18, I don't recall being home for a Christmas.

Dad opens the door to the garage and flips
the light on. My eyes immediately shoot to the other side of the
three car garage; opposite of mom's Harley, to what I can only
assume is his gift. A brand new punching bag dangling from the
ceiling.

Confused, I fold my arms across my chest
admiring the new addition, “Really?”

“Really.”

I'm into training. I enjoy kick boxing.
Regular boxing as well. I think he gets that I like to be active
while I'm off and is trying to encourage it. Or state that he
understands me. That he's been paying attention to me even if I
think he hasn't.