Off Base (23 page)

His chest squeezed. He brushed a thumb over her cheek and turned her around, finishing washing her body and then himself, his movements brusque, perfunctory. He didn’t say another word as they stepped from the shower and dressed again.

It would have made sense to leave after that. To say good night and part ways. They both had work early the following morning. It would have made sense to kiss her goodbye and chalk this up as reckless, crazy hot sex. Instead, he borrowed her toothbrush, flipped off the light and climbed into bed beside her, pulling her close to his side.

He would worry about what made sense later.

* * *

Huntley woke in the dark. She blinked for a moment, knowing something was off. It took another moment for her to remember she wasn’t alone. The events of the night flooded over her and her body tingled, deliciously sore and tender from sex.
Sex with Cullen
. Cullen who still slept beside her.

She turned her head, her hand reaching out to touch his bare shoulder. He muttered something and tossed his head, a low wretched sound coming from him. She knew the sound. She had heard the sounds of grief working many a late-night shift in the ER.

“Cullen,” she whispered, hoping to ease him from his bad dream. A dream she was certain was rooted in the loss of Xander.

His eyes opened at his name, a soldier accustomed to waking instantly. Pain glazed his eyes. The kind of pain that he never let anyone glimpse during daylight hours. Now with his defenses down, she saw right into him. Through him. He couldn’t hide his ghosts from her.

She reached out a hand and stroked his jaw, conveying that she was here for him. She understood, and she would always be there. He never had to be alone. If he would just let—

He snatched her wrists, tense lines bracketing his mouth. He held her wrists between them, his grip as fierce as his glittering gaze.

She stared back, questioning, unsure. “Cullen, are you all right?”

He dropped his hands from her wrists. His chest rose and fell several times before answering. “I guess I am taking Xander’s death hard.”

Her pulse skittered at this admission from him. He was talking to her. Actually opening up about what was going on behind his carefully constructed barriers.

“I know.”

“I just can’t stop wondering what if. What if I had been a better instructor? Halfway through the program Xander came to me expressing doubts. What if I hadn’t pushed him to stick with it? I just feel like I failed him. My old man never wanted me to go into EOD.” He laughed and the sound was raw with pain. “He said I didn’t have the right temperament for it. He said I’d fuck up. I didn’t listen to him.”

“He was wrong, Cullen. You didn’t fail. You did your job.” She tossed onto her side to better face him. “Xander was a human being with free will. He made his own choices, and he wouldn’t have stuck it out if he didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, that’s my fucking ego, I guess, thinking I matter so much.”

“No.” Her voice fell hard. “It’s not ego. You were his friend. Of course you mattered to him, but you’re not God. You weren’t responsible for his fate, and I know he’s looking down at you now, wanting you to believe that.” In the darkness, she could make out the gleam of his eyes as he studied her.

“God, you’re too nice. Can there be any girl as sweet as you?”

She frowned. “I’m not sweet.”

She’d always been the sweet girl. Predictable. In fact, the only unpredictable thing she ever did was leave Georgia. Of course, she had only done that to get away from Jackson. Everyone assumed they’d get back together. Get married and have the requisite two kids. It was almost as though she feared that happening, so she ran across the country to avoid that fate.

“Sweeter than most girls…” His voice faded, and she knew what he was thinking.
Sweeter than most girls I sleep with.

She was well acquainted with his normal type of female. Most were Army groupies eager for a meaningless fuck. She wasn’t that. This wasn’t meaningless for her. He had to know that even without her saying it. He knew her too well.

His hand shifted on her back again, stroking softly. “You deserve so much, Huntley.”

“So do you,” she countered, her chest aching, almost hurting because she knew he didn’t believe that of himself. Especially not carrying the burden of Xander’s death. “Some day you’ll realize that.”

She only hoped it wouldn’t be too late before he realized that a part of that better fate he deserved could be a future with her.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She touched his face again, and he reached up to hold her wrists.

“You’re a good man, Cullen.” He needed to hear this. He needed to believe it. He’d been listening to his father call him a fuck-up for years. And now he was blaming himself for what happened to Xander. He needed to know someone believed in him—that
she
did.

He stared at her for a long moment before releasing her wrists. He shoved his hand between her thighs, nudging them apart, sending the question on her lips and her thoughts scattering.

He knuckled her panties aside without a word and plunged a finger inside her. She gasped as he worked her with a few strokes until she was wet.

He withdrew his hand and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. Still holding her panties to the side, he thrust inside her. She cried out, straddling and impaled on him, the sensation tottering the edge of pain and pleasure.

He gripped her waist and guided her with his big hands, practically lifting her up and down until she gained her own rhythm and could move. But even that wasn’t enough for him. Not in his present state.

With a growl, he rolled her over onto her knees, hauling her bottom up and pulling her back flush against him. He rubbed his head along her crease, playing in her moist folds for a moment before driving into her again.

She whimpered, an orgasm swelling at the first plunge. Her sex clenched around his thickness. She’d never been taken from behind like this, and the position pushed down on her sweet spot.
OhGodOhGod
! His every thrust stroked along that bundle of nerves and she shuddered, shattering under him.

Her muscles turned to jelly and her body went limp, giving out under him, but he wasn’t having it. His grip on her hips tightened and he hauled her back up, holding her for his hammering cock.

One of his hands skated up the slope of her back and curled around her shoulder, anchoring her for him as he fucked her hard. He was a beast. It felt desperate and primal. And she loved it. She was so wet she could hear the slick glide of him working in and out of her. A second orgasm swelled before the tremors from her first had even subsided.

They climaxed simultaneously. He slammed into her with a last grind of his pelvis, his cock pulsing as he released inside her.

Pulling out of her, he dropped down on the mattress. She collapsed onto her stomach, her sex throbbing in the aftermath. She stared wide-eyed into the dark, marveling at how every encounter with him was different, better.

She pressed her fingers to her mouth, holding in any words she might regret.

She would never tire of this, and yet it was ephemeral. As fleeting and illusory as a dream. In the morning it would be gone.

His hand came down on the small of her back, his fingers trailing up the dip of her spine and moving between her shoulder blades. Goosebumps broke out over her skin.

“Did I hurt you?” His deep voice rumbled over the dark, wrapping around her.

“No. I liked it.” Loved it.
Loved him
.

Oh, God
. She wanted to sleep every night beside him. She wanted to be there for him when he woke with a bad dream. His friend. His lover. All of that. She wanted to be everything to him.

She jammed her eyes shut and took a steadying breath, thankful he couldn’t see her face in the dark as she reached this staggering realization.

“I was rough. I’m sorry—”

“I loved it.”
I love you
. She exhaled, tapping her fingers against her mouth.

His hand settled flatly on her back, his palm splaying warmly in the center. The imprint of his hand there seared deep into her—through skin, sinew and bone, directly into her soul.

* * *

In the murky light of predawn, Huntley felt the bed dip and shift. All at once she was wide awake. Her heart beat fast in her chest as she stilled and waited, hoping, praying he would kiss her goodbye, maybe whisper a quick promise. She knew he was leaving, but she longed for him to say something.
See you tonight. Call you after work. Let’s grab dinner. Can I spend the night again?
Something. Anything but him slipping silently from her room like a thief in the night.

Cracking one eye the barest peep, she identified Cullen’s outline at the side of the bed—the broad shoulders and sinewy back tapering to a narrow waist. He moved out of range of vision. She heard the rustle of his clothing and then nothing. She could feel his stare on her in the shadows. A long moment passed.

Her ears strained and her heart locked up inside her at the sound of his tread leaving her room. There was the faint jangle of his keys where he had left them in the living room. The door opening and shutting.

And he was gone.

* * *

He shouldn’t have left like that, but it was the kindest thing to do. Much better than putting a brittle smile on his face and making awkward conversation.

He hit the unlock for his truck and slid behind the wheel. They would talk, but first he needed to wrap his head around how this changed everything.

He rubbed at his chest. It felt like a boulder sat there, pressing, pressing.

You can’t give her what she deserves
.

That much was true. He’d promised her brother he would look out for her. Not fuck her until he couldn’t remember his own name. And the way he had been with her?
Shit
. The sex had been dirty and rough. The way he liked it.

He pulled out of her driveway and headed for his house. He needed to change before heading to base. He ran three miles every morning with his trainees, and he’d never been late. He glanced at the clock. The guys wouldn’t know what to think. Hell, he didn’t know what to think.

He dragged a hand over his face and thought about the last ten hours. He’d never had that with a woman before. That closeness, that feeling—both physical and emotional. He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t want it again. It was going to be torture to keep his hands off her, to resist her now that he knew how it could be between them.

So don’t resist
.

And what? Be a boyfriend to her? A husband? He didn’t do that. Relationships. Monogamy. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He was the kind of guy who woke up in sweats from bad dreams. He couldn’t be like Beck. He didn’t have that seed planted inside him. He failed people. His father. Xander. He made suck-ass decisions. He couldn’t trust himself. If he failed Huntley, that would be the deepest cut yet.

Inhaling a deep breath, he vowed to let her go before it got any more complicated than it already was.

Chapter Ten

Two days went by before Huntley saw Cullen again.

He’d sent her a text the previous night explaining they had night drills. She knew they occasionally conducted training exercises that simulated wartime scenarios. That he thought to text her at all should have mollified her, but it did little to quell the ache of not seeing him or alleviate the tangle of her thoughts churning in aimless circles in an effort to figure out what they were to each other now.

She texted him back and invited him over on Friday night. Beck and his new girlfriend were coming over for dinner. Kenna would be going back to Georgia with him, and Beck had decided to stay a little longer and help her pack her things.

Cullen had texted back that he would join them but might be running late. She glanced at the door all through dinner, wondering if he really was going to make an appearance.

He finally arrived when she was serving dessert, his hair still damp from a shower. She inhaled his soapy scent and the faint whiff of deodorant as he passed her into the dining area, and all her girl parts quivered with longing, eager for an encore.

“Hey, man.” Beck rose and clapped him on the back, pulling him close in one of those half hugs guys did. He motioned to Kenna. “This is Kenna. My girl.”

Even Cullen smiled over Beck’s dreamy tone as he grasped Kenna’s extended hand. “Nice to meet you.

Cullen’s gaze lifted back to Huntley and a giddy tingle spread throughout her.

“I can cut a piece of lasagna for you,” she offered. “Or would you like a piece of cake?”

Cullen’s gaze slid over her, warming her everywhere. “I’ll have a slice of cake.”

Desire slicked through her, tightening her skin. Her bones felt like pudding beneath his gaze. Why did it feel like he was asking for something else?

“A cup of coffee, please, too, if you have it.”

Nodding, she turned and disappeared inside her small kitchen that suddenly felt too cramped and hot. She told herself it was overly warm from the lasagna she had baked for two hours, but the oven had been off for more than an hour now. Her hands shook as she fetched a mug from the cabinet.

When she turned, she yelped, nearly dropping the mug in her hands to find him directly behind her.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his shoes thudding on the tile floor as he stepped close, so close she could count the tiny flecks of gold in his brown eyes. He didn’t look sorry. No, the directness of his gaze said a lot of things, but it wasn’t an apology.

“S’kay,” she murmured, palming the smooth mug in her hand. The counter’s edge cut hard into her back. He didn’t seem in any hurry to step aside for her. “You just startled me.”

“A little jumpy?” His eyes scanned her face.

She shook her head and then nodded, undecided on what she was, but figuring it was okay to admit the truth. She was jumpy around him, and standing this close made her feel like she was coming out of her skin.

Stepping forward to pass around him, she sucked in a breath as her front brushed the hard wall of his chest. Lust shot through her. Even though she wore a blouse. Even though he wore a soft cotton T-shirt. Her breasts tightened, the tips reacting on memory, pinching into tight, needy points.