Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1) (16 page)

“His past actions brought this on him.”

“Can a person really be punished if he doesn’t remember the crime?” Mr. Disik’s pleasantly blank face popped into her mind. Could he understand at all why Klim had done what he did? Or was it too late for him to be punished for whatever crimes he may have committed in the past?

“That’s not my decision. And it is probably too philosophical a discussion for me to have an educated opinion on it, anyway. How about for now I get you a cup of tea and you lie down? It’s been a tough day for you.”

Christine nodded. Paul led the way out to the living room and settled Christine on the couch. She drifted into thoughts of how she could have done everything differently. Now that she had hindsight, her courses of action were so obvious.

But, of course, she could not change the past now. She’d messed up. She knew that. However, she could take responsibility. She’d admit her mistakes, and then she’d take steps to rectify them and redeem herself.

Maybe, eventually, she would have done enough.

She was asleep before Paul returned with the tea.

Chapter 19

In the early hours of the morning, Paul got a text to say that Blake was out of surgery and that his prognosis was looking positive. It was this that finally allowed Paul to snatch a few hours of sleep.

He’d decided not to disturb Christine until 8am. If she hadn’t woken up at any point during the night, that would mean a solid twelve hours of healing sleep. She needed it.

The hospital visiting hours started at 9am, and he knew that she’d want to see Blake alive and relatively well with her own eyes. Paul’s chest ached as he remembered the helpless look in her eyes the night before. The guilt and the self-recrimination. He’d give anything to never have to see that again.

“Christine,” he murmured softly, stroking her hair. Her eyes fluttered open. A soft, sleepy smile grace her lips as she saw him. His stomach flipped and tumbled at the sight. He wanted to see that smile every morning.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Just after eight,” he replied.

He waited. He saw the moment the memories of the night before came rushing back to her. The light dimmed in her eyes.

“Blake’s fine,” he told her. “I thought you might like to go see him.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her expression was still melancholy. “I’d like that,” she told him.

Half an hour later, after Christine had had a rejuvenating shower and restorative coffee, they were on the road to the hospital. Paul couldn’t help but notice the way she was glancing around, checking the windows and mirrors.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped guiltily. “Sorry. It doesn’t feel like it’s over.”

“That’ll pass,” he reassured her. “Klim’s in jail, and he admitted he was behind it all. He can’t hurt you.”

“I know. I just can’t help the feeling that we’ve missed something. The information doesn’t categorise properly.” She shifted in her seat and once again glanced uneasily at a passing car.

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“For example, if the Vovks had a heavily armed team of men at their disposal like the people that had tried to kidnap me, why were they so afraid of Mr. Disik? They could have just done the same thing to him.”

Paul pondered that, acknowledging that it was a good point with a slight nod. “I’m not sure. Maybe Destiny can get us in to see Klim, and we can ask him.”

“Maybe,” Christine murmured, unconvinced.

He wanted to take her hand, reassure her with contact, but didn’t dare take his hands from the controls. “How about I ask Duncan if you can stay in the safe house a few more days? Just until you feel comfortable with the idea of going home.” He knew that it was likely just paranoia she was feeling. It was something all military personnel were familiar with, that adjustment period once they were safe again.

Christine’s smile was grateful. “I’d like that. As long as you are there, too, of course.”

Paul’s heart expanded in his chest. Warmth spread through him, like a sip of honey tea. “Yeah. Of course.”

The smile she sent him was one that he’d remember until he was old and grey.

They arrived at Portsboro General Hospital. The scent of cheap cleaning products assaulted his nose and stuck in his throat the instant they went through the front doors. He hated hospitals. Had ever since his accident, when he felt like he’d spend the rest of his life in one.

A nurse greeted them and immediately directed the two of them through to Blake’s room. Paul went in first, with Christine following close behind.

Blake was on his back with his eyes closed, looking pale and wan. His breath rattled in his chest, sounding a little too wet to be natural. A few tubes stuck out of him, connecting him to various apparatuses. A steady beep from the heart rate monitor was a comforting counterpoint to the fluid dripping into his veins and the damp sound of his lungs.

They stopped a few feet away, and Blake’s eyes fluttered open. A smile immediately transformed his face, making him look almost the picture of health.

“Hey, man,” Blake greeted him. “Never thought I’d see you in here.”

Paul frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Blake’s eyes flickered between him and Christine. “Well, you don’t really leave your apartment if you can help it. The hospital thing is just an added deterrent for you.”

Paul blinked, shocked. Is that what his friends really thought of him? That he wouldn’t even visit them in the hospital if they were seriously injured?

He knew that he wasn’t close with most of the people at Soldiering On—his own fault, not theirs. But he cared about them. More than friends, they had the bond of serving together, even if it was in civilian life.

It hadn’t occurred to Paul before now how his absence would appear to the others. That they would think that he wasn’t concerned about them at all. That he would be so dismissive of a near-death experience.

Christine leaned forward and gently took Blake’s hand in an imitation handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.” Blake’s prosthetic was off, and the sheet outlined the shape of his stump. Blake didn’t seem at all self-conscious about it. Paul always found his friend a little humbling. Blake had had an injury just as life-changing as Paul’s, but he hadn’t let it negatively affect him. He’d taken it in stride and gone about his life.

Paul knew he could learn a lot from his friend. It was time that he stopped hiding away in unnecessary shame and started living his life properly again. Beginning, perhaps, with Christine.

Paul cleared his throat. “What do the doctors say?”

Blake rolled his eyes. “The bullet nicked a lung, but I’ll be all right. It wasn’t a bad one. They say they want me to take it easy for a while after I get out of here, which sounds extremely boring.”

Paul laughed. “You’ll go crazy within five minutes.”

“Ain’t that the truth?”

Christine shuffled closer to Blake. “I’m really sorry about this.”

Blake looked up at her, frowning. “About what?”

“About putting you in the hospital.”

Blake looked askance at her. “Klim Vovk, I didn’t realise you’d transformed into a woman.” He eyed her in an exaggerated way. “And such a pretty one at that.”

Blake’s smile was all charm, and Paul couldn’t help a little spurt of jealousy. He immediately tamped it down. He wasn’t a Neanderthal. But he did wish there was some small way he could put a public claim on Christine. Something that would deter his friends until he and Christine figured out where they stood.

Instead, Christine edged closer to Paul and placed a proprietary hand on his shoulder. She was claiming him. And didn’t that make his grin a little smug.

Blake looked between the two of them, apparently impressed. The wordless exchange had neatly avoided any awkwardness.

“What I meant to say,” Christine continued. “Is that if I hadn’t screwed up—twice—you wouldn’t be in here.”

Blake shrugged as best he could with the tubes in the way. “We also might not have solved the case. Duncan told me that Klim confessed. That was because you brought it all to a head.”

“And got you shot!”

Blake made a dismissive face. “I’ve been shot before. I mean, it was a ballsy move on your part, but it paid off. I don’t mind taking a bullet every now and again if that’s the outcome.”

He took as deep a breath as he could manage, and winced. Obviously, the talking was harder on his lungs than he’d let on.

“You’re being very understanding,” Christine said in a small voice.

Blake gave her a smile, a real one this time. “It’s really no big deal. Don’t you dare feel guilty about me.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” she asked.

Blake pretended to think about it for a moment. “You can get me a decent steak. The food in this place is rubbish. Oh, and some nice chocolate. I’m a sucker for those little trays with the individual chocolates in them. Brings class to any occasion.”

Christine laughed, as she was meant to. Paul threw Blake a grateful look, and the man winked at him in return.

“Right, so now that that’s out of the way, tell me about the two of you.” Blake’s face was a picture of innocence.

Paul rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. He and Christine shared a look.

“I think it’s time we leave Blake to rest, don’t you?” he asked her.

“Yes, he certainly needs his beauty sleep.” She gave Blake a pointed look and the man just grinned unrepentantly.

They said their goodbyes. It was clear that Blake was sorry to see them go – he must already be bored, though he’d only been on bed rest a few hours. However, Blake was already drifting into a healing sleep as they left the room.

Chapter 20

Paul could barely take his eyes off Christine on the drive back to the safe house. A problem, since he was the one in the driver’s seat.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” she asked with a smile, a few blocks from their destination.

“I like looking at you.” Their eyes caught again, just briefly.

“I should say, what’s changed? Because you weren’t looking at me like that on the way to the hospital.”

Paul considered the question, giving the drive more attention than it needed to buy him some time. He let out a breath.

“You…” He cleared his throat. “You implied to Blake that we were together.”

Christine knitted her brows. “Should I not have?”

“No, I’m glad,” he hurriedly explained. “But I’m just wondering why.”

“Is this a ‘where does this relationship stand’ talk?” she asked slyly.

He grinned, feeling sheepish. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, right now, it stands that I like you. A lot. And I’d like to explore that further. In both the emotional and sexual ways. Eventually. When we are ready.”

“We?”

“You’ve already been honest how you feel about things. And me…It’s been a long time since I opened myself up emotionally. I think it’ll take some practice to get it right. But I’d like to try. With you.”

Paul’s heart thumped painfully, and his blood raced through his veins like fire.

“That…that sounds great. I’d like to try with you, too.”

Her returning smile was sweetness and sex, a hint of wickedness in her genuine pleasure at his words.

“Does that mean…?” Hope warmed her eyes.

“Yeah. I think it does.”

Tension strung between them as Paul parked and they made their way into the house. By unspoken agreement, they moved slowly, drawing out the anticipation until it reached fever pitch.

They went down the hall towards the bedroom, navigating the narrow passages. She moved with a graceful sensuality, an awareness of her body that hadn’t been there before.

His skin grew tight, tingling all over. His heart beat a steady, inexorable rhythm, building the heat between them before they’d even touched. Her fingers brushed against his arm, then again, before ghosting over his neck. He shivered, but felt no cold.

Her hands ended up in his hair, stroking and tugging.

He reached out to trail his fingers over the outside of her thigh. Goosebumps erupted across her smooth skin.

Paul had been so focused on her that he was genuinely surprised when he found himself in his room. She, too, halted just inside the doorway.

He was almost unbearably tense. Not just from sexual tension, but now from the thought that she might have changed her mind. But then she smiled her wicked smile again and his eagerness overtook his nerves.

Their gazes locked. Anticipation simmered.

“I want to kiss you,” he blurted out. Her eyes darkened in response.

“Get on the bed,” she suggested with a tilt of her head. He narrowed his eyes, but moved closer to the bed. He transferred himself to the mattress, planting his fists behind himself to hold his torso upright.

He watched, mesmerised, as Christine moved closer, her hips swinging in a sensual sway. She stood over him, her breasts level with his eyes. He couldn’t resist. He leaned up, placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss between her breasts, tasting her bare skin.

A shocked gasp escaped her, and her hands flew to his shoulders to steady herself. He grinned, pleased by her reaction. She gave him an admonishing look, but he was unrepentant.

He bent his arms, taking more of his weight and hers as he leaned back. She tipped forward as he did so, slightly unbalanced, so Paul took advantage and claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss. She matched him, tangling their tongues together.

The kiss was immediately hot, wet, and deep. An explosion of pent up lust. Overwhelming and momentous.

One of her knees slid onto the bed, then the other, until she was straddling him. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He knew by the way she was moving that she was grinding her core down on him, but he didn’t feel the sensations.

Christine broke the kiss just briefly to glance down. Paul followed her gaze. A shaft of worry speared him as he saw that despite the friction of her body against his, the foreplay they’d been doing, he didn’t yet have even the beginnings of an erection.

Had the time a few days ago when he’d got it up just been a fluke? Would he not be able to please her in that most basic of ways?

“Shhh,” he murmured, without thinking, silencing any questions before she even sought to ask them. Unsure what to do next, he kissed her again, drowning out the voice of concern in his mind and hers.

Her hands slid from his shoulders, up his neck, to cup his face. She used the pressure of her thumbs to angle his head the way she wanted it, and Paul complied with no hesitation.

He nibbled her lips, then soothed them with his tongue. She moaned in response. He longed to touch her, but couldn’t be sure that just one of his arms could take their full weight bearing down on it.

He leaned away from her, breaking the kiss. His intention was simply to move into a more comfortable position, but then he saw Christine. Her face was flushed, her breath ragged. She was the perfect picture of an aroused woman.

His mind dipped, flashing images before him of Christine in all kinds of positions. Her back arching as she rode him. Her mouth on his cock. Her breasts swinging above him as she sought her own pleasure from his body.

Paul looked down to see his erection stirring. Something clicked in his mind, a puzzle piece falling into place. His erections were no longer stirred by the sensations he couldn’t feel, but by his imagination. He remembered the doctor at the VA telling him something similar long ago—that the damage to his spine might change the way he became aroused—but it had been so long that he’d forgotten.

He grinned, pleased with himself.

Overcome by the need to share this new discovery, Paul caught her gaze.

“Turns out I need to imagine you naked a lot.”

She laughed, low and pleased.

“Does it have to just be your imagination?” she replied saucily.

Paul shook his head, his eyes drifting down her body in anticipation.

She leaned in to kiss him once, too quickly, before sliding her feet back onto the floor. Paul took the opportunity to move across the bed, until his back was supported by pillows. He put his hands behind his head and settled in to watch her.

With a slow smile, Christine teased him. She raised one corner of her top, then the other, slowly sliding her tank top up her body. Paul longed to trace the path with his tongue. He imagined himself doing it, placing hot, wet kisses against her stomach as she revealed each inch of skin.

Christine’s eyes dropped to his lap and her smile widened, grew more pleased. He figured his cock was reacting to his thoughts and Christine liked what she saw. But he didn’t dare take his eyes off her.

She pulled her top up over her breasts, exposing her plain black bra with her tempting mounds peeking over the top. She paused for a moment, allowing him a minute to admire the view.

“Wow,” was all he managed. Then, she whipped her top over her head and discarded it.

Christine hesitated a moment, her hands hovering. Paul wondered if she was nervous. He was about to muster some words to reassure her when he realised that she was torn as to which item to remove next.

Her hands went to the button on her shorts. She snapped it open, then slowly eased the shorts over her hips, leaving her sensible black panties behind. Paul’s mouth watered as more skin was revealed. He considered what it might be like to slide his palms up those smooth thighs, to touch and taste what lay between.

He wasn’t sure what she saw on his face, but it caused her to hurry her tease. She dropped her shorts and stepped out of them and her sandals, leaving her in just her bra and underwear.

She prowled towards him like a jungle cat stalking its prey. Paul was sure he’d never been so aroused in his life.

She threw a leg over him, once again straddling him.

“Your turn,” she told him with a saucy smile.

She reached for the edge of his t-shirt, fingers sliding over the gap of skin revealed there. She splayed her palms against his stomach. His muscles contracted slightly at the touch, begging her to touch him more. She did so, discovering his chest with just the press and brush of her palms, drawing his shirt upwards with her movements.

Her gaze was hungry as she eyed what she’d exposed. She made a humming sound at the back of her throat, pleasure evident in her looks and touch. Her hands were smooth against his skin, leaving a trail of burning in their wake. She explored his light dusting of hair across his chest, seemingly fascinated by the friction against her palms.

His heart was thundering in his chest. He was sure she must feel it.

“Off,” she said, tugging at his shirt. He pushed himself forward so that she could divest him of the offending item, then settled back against the pillows. She eyed his exposed chest with hunger.

“Do you work out?” she asked.

He laughed. “Sometimes. Mostly I just carry my own body weight a lot.”

She nodded decisively. “It’s working for you.” Her gaze was serious except for the twinkle in her eye.

He grinned. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her in return. He hoped that she knew he meant inside as well as out.

Pleased, she leaned forward to capture his mouth with hers. Their lips clashed, their teeth and tongues playful against each other.

This time, Paul could touch all he wanted, his hands sliding up over her sides. Her skin was like silk, soft and smooth. He reached her breasts and palmed them through the bra. Her hands pressed more firmly against his chest in response.

Encouraged, Paul slipped his hands around her back and unhooked her bra with a single flick of his fingers. Her breasts spilled out. He abandoned her bra to hang off one of her arms to cup her breasts. They fit perfectly in his palms. Made for him.

He kneaded them gently, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. Her breathing grew harsher against his lips, and her fingers threaded into his hair, tightening to an almost painful grasp. Heat rushed through him, leaving urgency in its wake.

He wrapped his arms around Christine, pulling her closer. She arched her back, positioning her breasts at the perfect angle for him to pull them into his mouth. So he did. First the left one, while he continued to play with the right. He teased her, tugging at her nipple with his lips and teeth. His left arm was still wrapped around her, holding her in place for his ministrations as she squirmed against him.

Her breathy moans were driving him mad, causing him to go faster, harder. He wanted her, more fiercely than he’d ever wanted a woman before.

She groaned, her nails raking his scalp, and Paul took that as a sign to switch breasts. He kissed across her cleavage, tasting the path with his tongue, then captured her other nipple in his mouth. Instead of using his remaining arm to hold her steady, he slipped his free hand down her stomach and brushed the edge of her panties.

He slipped inside, immediately finding her wet and ready for him. It was his turn to groan.

He used a single finger to tease her, spreading her moisture around. He slipped a finger into her, starting a slow and steady rhythm. Christine ground down against his hand, desperate for more friction.

He obliged, using his thumb against her clit as he pumped his single digit in and out of her. Her heat was warm and welcoming. He needed more. He slid a second finger into her. She gasped against his mouth, her hot breath fanning across his cheek.

Paul abandoned her breast, kissing the juncture of her neck before landing on her lips once again. Their kiss was messy, as Christine fought to catch her breath, and build a rhythm unrelated to what he was doing to her core.

He increased the pressure of his thumb, taking cues from her sounds and movements to decipher what was working for her.

“Like that,” she told him breathlessly, gyrating her hips against his hand to get the precise friction she wanted.

Paul obliged, still pumping his fingers into her. He added a third, stretching her further.

He must have hit the sweet spot, because suddenly she contracted around his fingers, coming hard. She cried out, and he kept his hand moving, riding out her orgasm until she collapsed against his chest, spent.

He grinned smugly, knowing that whatever happened next, whether or not he would be able to perform, he’d pleasured her. And that took the pressure off.

“How are you doing?” he asked her.

“I’m great,” she replied, still breathing hard. Her hand drifted against his chest. He realised that she was moving it downwards in an unhurried, steady pace.

She reached the waistband of his jeans, and Paul held his breath as she paused. She teased him for a moment, rubbing her fingers back and forth against the edge. Then, she unsnapped the button, lowered his zipper, and freed him into her waiting hand.