Hero by Night (15 page)

“But you didn't stay,” he said.

“I had a husband in Portland. I'd left the army expecting to start my civilian life, and then I just couldn't.”

He nodded. “Do you want to wait here while I get our key?”

“Sure.” She held tight to Hero as he slipped into the reception area. A few minutes later, Chad returned, smiling.

“Let me guess, you charmed your way into an upgrade,” she said.

“Lena, this is the Roadside Motel. They don't do high-­end,” he said holding open her door. “But I confirmed that breakfast comes with the room.”

He led the way down the open-­air corridor to the last door. Inside, she surveyed the accommodations. When trying to find a place that took dogs, even ser­vice dogs, the options were limited, especially in her price range. Their assigned room was clean, with a king-­size bed on the left, and a dresser to the right with a television perched on top. Beyond the dresser was an open door leading to the bathroom. She poked her head in. Small, but ser­viceable. She turned as Chad set their overnight bags down on the bed.

“How's the tub?” he asked. “Big enough for two?”

“It is, but . . .” She glanced at the hotel room, folding her arms across her chest. “I'm not sure we need to stay. I don't think I can get up on that stage. I ran out of dinner with my family, Chad. Hero sat on my lap through the meal and the place was practically empty. Tomorrow there will be ­people everywhere. Any little sound or movement could trigger a massive panic attack. And the thought of lying on the ground with my dog across my chest, trying to calm me down, while my family and a bunch of strangers watch . . .”

Chad faced her, hands at his side. “The medal is yours either way. You earned it. Don't think for a minute you've failed because you don't want to stand up there. And running out on your family tonight? You stopped me from doing something stupid, like telling a man in wheelchair to shut the hell up.”

“He's not a bad person,” she said. “My dad just had a plan for how our lives would be. But my dreams for the future are different now.”

“Lena, can I ask you something?” He twirled the hotel room key around his finger. “Do you regret going to West Point, joining the army? Following your dad's dream?”

“Not for a minute,” she said, her voice strong and clear. “I'm proud of the time I spent serving my country. Just not of what happened when I returned home. Maybe if this ceremony was a year from now. But tomorrow? I'm not ready. I need more time to put myself back together.”

“OK. I've got to make a call.” He smiled, but it didn't touch his brown eyes. She saw a laserlike focus in his gaze that looked foreign. But she knew, probably better than most ­people, that Chad was more than the party-­hard, fun-­loving guy.

“Stay here, take a shower, relax,” he said. “And when I come back, I want you to take everything you need to make you feel strong. You know I'm game for anything. Handcuff me to the bedpost if you want.”

“Handcuffs?” She raised an eyebrow, glancing at his bag.

“Whatever you want, beautiful.”

C
HAD HEADED FOR
the main office, and the friendly redhead receptionist at the front desk.

“Hi Annie.” He offered his best smile.

“Mr. Summers.” The college-­age woman looked up from the LSAT prep book open on the reception desk and beamed at him. “Is your room OK?”

“Just fine. But I was wondering if you could help me locate a phone number. We're in town for an event at the army base, but I forgot the paperwork at home. I'm not sure where to go in the morning and was hoping to call over there for some answers.”

Annie frowned. “I don't have a number for the base, but my friend works over there. Are you in the army?”

“My girlfriend served,” he said. “Can I give your friend a call?”

A minute later, he stepped outside, his cell pressed against his ear, and began the long process of trying to get ahold of the person connected to the medal ceremony. Six transfers later, he reached the woman in charge.

“Hi, this is Chad Summers. I'm with Officer Clark.” Shit, he couldn't even remember her rank. “We're in town for the Silver Star.”

“Glad you made it,” the sergeant on the other end of the line said, her tone formal and rushed.

“Here's the thing, Lena can't get up on that stage. I know you have press coming, but she suffers from PTSD, something I'm guessing you're familiar with. She's afraid she will panic when it is time to accept the medal.”

“The vice president of the United States is flying in to present this medal—­”

“Well, he's going to have to do it in a quiet room with only family a few others present. I don't care what it takes to rearrange the dog-­and-­pony show you have planned. Lena deserves to be honored in a way that makes her feel proud of her ser­vice.”

“Are you family?” the woman demanded.

“No, I'm the guy who will move heaven and earth to make damn sure she is not afraid.”

 

Chapter 17

L
E
N
A
P
A
C
E
D
B
A
C
K
and forth across the motel's worn brown carpet. From his perch on the bed, Hero followed her movements. The golden retriever had walked at her side for the first five or so minutes after Chad left before deciding to save his energy. She should probably do the same, for tomorrow, or maybe later tonight . . .

I want you to take everything you need to make you feel strong. You know I'm game for anything. Handcuff me to the bedpost if you want.

She stopped and stared at the solid wood headboard, not a post in sight. But that wasn't the only thing holding her back. She couldn't continue to take and take from this man. Tonight had made it crystal clear that she needed to focus on her future. She couldn't afford failure. She just couldn't. She needed order in her life and ­people who didn't cling to fake girlfriends because commitment sent them racing for the door.

“Lena.” She turned and saw the knob turn. Chad stepped inside, a devilish grin on his handsome face. “Beautiful, you don't look relaxed. Or ready for these.”

He held out his right hand, a pair of toy handcuffs dangling from his index finger.

She raised an eyebrow. “Plastic handcuffs?”

“I bought them from toy store at the mall. I'm guessing they're left over from Halloween.” He swung them back and forth like a pendulum. “Want to see if they'll hold?”

She laughed for the first time since they'd walked into the Red Dragon. They were barreling toward the end of their charade, but she couldn't walk away tonight. Not when he walked in and delivered laughter ­coupled with the promise of sex.

And handcuffs. She couldn't forget those.

“How about a game?” he said. “First one naked gets to try them on.”

She raised an eyebrow, watching as he tossed the handcuffs on the bed and went to work removing his clothes. “The first one to wear them will be the only one.”

Fingers hooked in his boxers, his brown eyes met hers. “Lena, you're still dressed.”

“Uh-­huh.” She picked the toy cuffs off the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his boxers hit the floor. “Hands behind your back, Chad.”

He obeyed, positioning his wrists by his low back, every delicious inch of him on full display.

“And here I thought I was on my best behavior at dinner,” he murmured as she snapped the cuffs into place.

She ran her hands over his butt. “You were.”

“This is my reward?” She could hear the wanting in his voice. “Not much of one if you're still dressed.”

Her front still to his back, she unzipped her dress, allowing the material to pool at her feet. Adding her underwear to the pile, she said, “Is this better?”

Lena pressed her body against his, her lips and teeth grazing his shoulder.

“You're killing me,” he growled. “Move around where I can see you.”

With one hand on him, she traced the hard, muscular planes of his body. One glimpse at the raw need in his brown eyes and she knew that whatever happened tomorrow, she wanted tonight.

Sinking to her knees, Lena wrapped her hand around his cock. Her tongue licked the tip once and she drew back.

“Lena, I'm one minute away from begging you to release me. I'm dying to run my fingers through your hair and push between your sweet lips.”

“I'm not letting you go just yet,” she murmured, running her hand up from the base to the tip. “Let's see how long these handcuffs last.”

C
H
A
D
TILTED HIS
head back, studying the motel room ceiling. One look at the gorgeous, naked woman on her knees in front of him and he'd lose it.

“Lena.” His voice was low and rough. “I'm pretty damn close to begging.”

Finally, she wrapped her lips around him, taking him deep. He let her set the pace, her hand stroking him, rising up to meet her lips, as he stared down at her.

Beautiful, sexy, strong—­even if she didn't feel it now—­this woman made him question his wants, his needs, his plans for the future . . . everything. She made him want to be better, to transform their fake relationship into something tangible. Because from where he was standing, they'd already crossed that line. Hadn't they?

She released his cock, placing her hands on his thighs as she stood, her palms running up over his hips, his abs, stopping at his chest.

“I'm tempted to climb up,” she said, rising to her tiptoes, her lips nearly touching his ear. “Wrap my legs tight around you, and ride you long and hard.”

Hell, the way she turned the tables . . .

“I freaking love it when you whisper naughty things in my ear,” he said. “Now go lie down on the bed. It's my turn to touch you, taste you, and make you scream.”

She raised an eyebrow, but she followed orders. Lying on the bed, she spread her legs and arched her back. The view ratcheted the tension pulsing through him to an eleven on a scale of one to ten.

“Lena.” He pulled at the plastic restraints. “Another night I swear I'll lick you, burying my tongue inside you until you call my name. Tonight I need you, beautiful. No more teasing. No more foreplay.”

The plastic “chain” holding his wrists together snapped. With his hands free, he retrieved his wallet from his pants pocket and pulled out the condom he'd stashed there earlier. He tore open the wrapper, quickly covering himself before approaching the bed.

“I'm not going to lie, Lena. I want you hard and fast. I want you on your knees, your ass in the air, my hands on your hips, holding you tight as I bury my cock inside you.”

“I've never liked lies,” she murmured, rolling onto her stomach. She rose off the mattress on her hands and knees. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he growled. “Yes.”

He moved to the edge of the bed, teasing her entrance with the head of his cock, one hand running over her low back, exploring her curves.

“Just like that.” He thrust inside her and she cried out, pressing back against him. His palms moved over her backside, one settling at her waist, and the other moving higher toward the long locks he'd fantasized about pulling from that first night in the studio over the barn.

“Chad.” His name was like a plea, a cry for more. “Chad, please.”

Quickening the pace, he thrust into her again and again, the physical pleasure rising with each movement.

“I want you to come with me,” he said.

“Yes,” she murmured.

His hand wrapped around the long strands of hair cascading down her back and pulled. Her head drawn back, her blue eyes stared into his, the wild, wanton look matching the need pulsing through him to claim her. But in that instant, his cock buried deep inside her, his hold on her a potent mixture of command and possession, Chad realized his mistake.

He should have tossed the cheap handcuffs in the trash, come in here and made love to her. In this moment, she was his, but it was fleeting. Tomorrow, he vowed as his climax pushed aside the doubts. Tomorrow he'd make love to her. No toys or games. He felt her tighten around him, heard her scream his name, and then he was lost.

Still panting, they shifted their bodies, maneuvering under the sheets side by side. He rolled away from her only for a moment to discard the condom.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “We still have that Chinese food.”

“No,” she murmured. “Save it for breakfast.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her, drawing her back against his front. But even with the soft contours of her curves pressed against him, there was a gap he could not close. She was
his
, dammit. The first woman who'd forced him to open his eyes to the possibility of more.

But the words “temporary” and “fake” still hung over their heads, provided a buffer he didn't want or need. He hoped she'd felt the same because tomorrow he planned to lock those words in the past.

“Chad?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you—­”

“You don't need to thank me, Lena. I was right there with you.” He hugged her tight.

“Being with you,” she said. “I feel one step closer to normal. I feel like maybe I can face tomorrow's ceremony.”

“You can.” He kissed her neck, debating whether to tell her about his conversation with the sergeant in charge of the event. But now when she was drifting off to sleep wasn't the time. And part of him wanted to surprise her.

“I know you can,” he added.

And after the vice president handed her the Silver Star, after they put the ceremony behind them, they'd have eight hours in the car to find new words to define their relationship.