Hunter's Heart (13 page)

“You have a lot of food for one person.”

The “gotcha gong” went off. She was onto him. He gave her an ah-shucks grin. “I’m just a growing boy.”

“I don’t mind staying. I can help if you need to do anything. Certainly the dishes.” She glanced around. “It doesn’t seem to need cleaning.”

“I have a guy who cleans and does the yard work.” The wind shifted and rain pelted the sliding glass doors, drawing his attention.

“Well, what do you need to do? Post reviews of skin flicks to Facebook? Or we could post the ones I’ve been taking.”

He whipped his head around. She half laughed, half snorted then her hand flew to her nose. “You made me spew coffee.” Laughing, she wiped her nose. “Oh. If you could see the look on your face.” She rose then rounded the table. “Scoot your chair around. I want to sit in your lap.”

He did as told and she dropped on him, putting her hand to the side of his face. “I’ve been selfish, not spending time here with you. I apologize.” She laid a sweet, gentle, ice cream-and-berries-flavored kiss on him. “Thank you for making it easy for me today.”

“My pleasure.”

She stood abruptly. “Speaking of pleasure.” The corners of her mouth quirked up. Her shorts magically disappeared then she reached out, undoing his shorts. In seconds his dick was free and being pumped. His hand went to the soft flesh between her legs. “Bedroom. Upstairs,” he managed to say.

“Noooo bedroom.” She pushed his hand away and knelt between his legs. “This is where we first did it at my place. I want to christen your place the same way.”

“Not getting—
oh damn
—any argument from me.”

She took him in her mouth.

“
Oh. Damn
.” Blood roared in his ears. His body throbbed like the engines on an aircraft carrier as her sucking mouth worked him.
“Ahh.”
He drew in a sharp breath. “
Celia
.”

She released him. “Yes?” she asked innocently, looking up. He reached for her but she stood then grasped the bottom of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Then she went for his shorts. He lifted his hips enough for her to work them down. When she’d stripped them away from his feet she tossed them over her shoulder, laughing.

He spread his legs taking himself in hand, watching as she skimmed her shirt over her head then released her breasts from her bra.

Smiling, she removed the band holding her hair back and shook it free. Their pleasure gasps mingled with the sound of the rain when she straddled him—taking him in to the balls.

“You are so fucking sexy.” He cupped her breasts, his hands taking the place of the discarded bra. She purposefully rolled her hips one way then the other with him countering the movements. She stopped, raised her head, and gazed intently over his shoulder.

“I hope you don’t have nosey neighbors with a camera.”

He followed her gaze as best he could and….
Great Caesar’s ghost.
The neighbors behind
could
see in thorough the doors. She nipped and licked his ear. “If they do, tell them I’ll pay for a copy. I especially want to see what I look like when you make me come.”

He came. A long hard orgasm exploded from him. Celia threw back her head, and quaking, dug her fingers into his shoulders, her walls clenching, pumping him. Spent, they held each other panting, her head resting on his shoulder. “Should I wave to your neighbor?” she said, her fingers drifting lazily over his belly.

“What?” he gasped.

“There’s a man on the deck of the house behind you, waving.”

“What the fuck?
You’ve got to be kidding?” He struggled to twist in the chair to see who was there. Celia sighed and clamped her thighs around his hips, preventing him from moving.

“Guppy.”

He felt her mouth quirk into a smile against his neck and he knew what winning the lottery felt like.

They showered and he walked her through the rest of the house. What there was of it. The master bedroom and bath were upstairs. A small guest bedroom downstairs. A worn out pool table and old pinball machines in the basement.

“I expected it to be more of a man cave. With your Navy stuff all over,” she said settling on the sofa. “This is…comfortable.”

“Navy stuff?”

She shrugged. “Medals. Awards. Stuff like that. Don’t you have any?”

“Yeah. I have some. Putting them out isn’t my thing.”

“You don’t have any family pictures?”

He did but he’d put them away. “I have some around. You disappointed there aren’t any nekked baby pictures?”

She considered him. “No. I’m fine with the big-boy, real thing.”

“You want to see more? I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Save it for later,
big boy
.” She tucked her legs under her and looked around. “Do you have a checker game? You can teach me to play.”

“Yeah. You were serious when you said you don’t know how to play?”

After she’d won the seventh game straight, she fell back on the sofa, laughing and kicking her legs in the air yelling, “Guppy.”

“Funny,” he growled, but laughed with her, enjoying seeing her so relaxed. “Where’d you learn to play?”

Her expression sobered. “It was the only game I played as a child. The board could be drawn on paper or concrete. If there were no checkers we used rocks with a scratched R or B.”

She reached out and touched his face. “Tell you what. I’m a lousy pool player. Let’s go down and play.” He took her downstairs to play and trounced her soundly.

A SEAL’s gotta do what a SEAL’s gotta do.

Upstairs, she went to the deck doors, opening one a few inches. The scent of summer rain wafted in. “Good thing you have lots of food. It’s flooding out there.”

He wrapped her in his arms and they stood like that for several minutes, watching and listening to the rain.

“I want to ask you a really personal question.” She rested her head on his chest. “It’s nosey and probably rude, but I’m really curious.”

“O…kay.” He held his breath.

“Have you brought a lot of women here?”

He turned her to face him. “Family and friends. None, as in women I was involved with. You’re the only one.” He caressed her face. “If you’re asking about someone special in my past, there isn’t.”

“Your turn,” he said.

“What?”

“Anyone special in your past?”

“No. Absolutely no one.”

“Spend the night here,” he said softly.

Uncertainty flared in her eyes.

“I’m not going to pressure you.”

“I know.”

“You want to leave, tell me.” She rested her head on his shoulder and he held his breath waiting.

“I want to stay,” she said after a long silence. He let out the breath.

“Good. Let’s fool around some more. Then dinner. Fooling around makes me hungry.”

After dinner they went up and watched a movie from his bed. More fooling around led to powerful brain-scrambling sex.

A crack of thunder brought Hunter full awake. He shifted on the bed and Celia adjusted her position, draping more of her body over him as Mother Nature’s fireworks lit the room. After they made love, she’d tuck against his side. It was that way each night. By morning, she would be on top of him. Head on his shoulder, hand resting over his heart, her knee covering his crotch and
he loved it
.

The next flash was followed with an explosive crack.
Fuck.
That wasn’t the rumble and roll of a distant storm. This was a violent storm on top of them. Celia jerked at the next window-rattling shockwave. If his reflexes hadn’t been good, kids would not be in his future.

The next flash and crack occurred simultaneously, accompanied by a spectacular explosion as a nearby transformer blew. The whir of the ceiling fan stopped and the digital numbers on his clock went dark.

Her head came up and her nails gripped his flesh.

“Hey.” He covered her hand with his but she dug in deeper. Celia pushed off him and sat.

“Run,” she said in a loud whisper. “Run. Run,” she said between short breaths.

He sat and put a hand on her arm. She shoved it away.

“Run.” She said it louder like a warning. Her chest heaved and if she didn’t stop, she’d hyperventilate.

“Celia.” His voice was lost in a violent sizzling crack.

She cried out something
in her native Slavic tongue.
Get away
, maybe. More words poured out. She spoke so fast and he knew so few. When he’d been there, it hadn’t been to carry on conversations. Her modulation clearly said fear. He gripped her arm. She jerked free and bounced a fist off his cheek, then slapped him with the other hand.

“Celia.” He reached for her. She made a bone-chilling, frightened-animal sound then dove off the mattress, flattening against the floor, doing her best to get under the bed.

Great Caesar’s ghost.
It wasn’t the storm, she was flashing back to the fucking war. He’d seen it before. Men yanked into the past to wander in a painful maze of memories. Some never finding their way out. He dropped beside her and attempted to gather her in his arms.

No go.

She fought like crazy, arms and legs flailing. He’d have better luck containing an octopus. Another flash and he saw raw primeval fear in her expression. Her hands raked his face and chest as she made ferocious feral sounds.

“Celia. It’s a storm. You’re safe,” he said. Christ, he’d never seen anyone this scared. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He repeated the words over and over, working hard to keep his voice calm—with no effect. He wasn’t getting through. She was lost in the past.

Desperate to keep her from getting hurt, he yanked the sheet from the bed, intending to wrap her in it to stop the flaying. In the process, he lost his grip on her sweaty body and she scurried into the corner.

“Mama. Promozite mi. Promozite mi. Maaama.”
The tone alone stung his heart,
but the words….
She was crying out to her mother for help. Hot tears stung his eyes. He scooped her up, ignored the screams, her raking nails and fists, and gently laid her on the bed. Before she could scramble away, he covered her with his body, resting as much weight on her as he dared. He crammed pillows everyplace his body wasn’t, pinning her down.

When she could no longer kick and use her hands and fists, she bit him.

He held on hard and did the only thing he could think of to do. Sang lullabies, like the ones he sang to his nieces and nephews. Eventually the fight left her and she was reduced to body-shaking sobs. Finally, she drifted to sleep, only to twitch at the occasional boomer the residing storm produced.

He kept humming and singing until there were no more flashes and rumbles, and her slow breaths indicated she was in a deep sleep. Gradually he shifted and moved his weight to the bed until he could rest with no fear of crushing her. He checked his phone to make sure there was no more weather in the area, then draped an arm and leg over her, rested his head on the bed…and slept.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah.” He opened one eye and saw light around the edge of the window blinds.

“I’m okay now, you can move off me,” she said in a weak, hoarse voice.

He raised his head. Her eyes were swollen. Hair was plastered to her sweat-slicked face but, she looked calm.

“Okay.” He moved his arm and leg away. “I had to do it,” he said, moving the pillows aside and half expecting her to smack him for the way he’d restrained her.

“I have to get up.” Her voice snagged and she grimaced as she struggled to sit.

“You hurt?” He’d held her damn tight.

“No.” She swung her feet to the floor and looked at him over her shoulder. “I want to go home.” Her gaze landed on his chest. eShe twisted and reached a shaky hand his direction. “I…. Did that?” He swept his hand over the area she was pointing to and dipped his chin to see what he was feeling. Red lines, some short, some long, some darker with forming scabs, decorated his body. He said nothing.

“I am so, so sorry. I thought it was…I was….” She stood.

He stood also but on the opposite side of the bed. “I know.” He wanted to say something profound or maybe snappy to lighten the moment. But what?

“I want to go home.” A bright sliver of morning sunlight broke the edge of the blinds and illuminated Celia’s face and untamed hair with a golden glow.

He turned away, opened a dresser drawer and took out a pair of black briefs and a tee. “Get a shower,” he said, pulling the shirt on. “I’ll make coffee. We’ll talk.
If
you still want, I’ll take you home.”

She nodded but didn’t move. He took a step her direction. She stepped back and looked away.

“Okay.” He stepped back. Last night could easily become the elephant in the room for them. The memory couldn’t be erased. All he could do was ease her discomfort.

“I made plans for today. I’d like to keep them.”

“What plans?”

Actually he had no plans. Only to do what she wanted. “I’ll tell you after you shower and we talk. Then you can decide what you want.”

“I
want
to go home.”