The Omega Team: Hot Rod (Kindle Worlds Novella) (8 page)

BOOK: The Omega Team: Hot Rod (Kindle Worlds Novella)
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A damn fine kiss.

Chapter Eight

 

Sam didn’t expect to fall asleep in Matt’s arms, but she did. When she awoke it was to a cocoon of tantalizing warmth and the rhythmic thud of his heart below her ear. The hard bands of his arms enclosed her and his breath shushed rhythmically over her cheek. She knew it would be wise to extricate herself from this tangle of limbs, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Instead, she closed her eyes again and pretended to be asleep and gloried in the rise and fall of his chest. It was amazing that she was here with him now, after so many years apart. To her folly, she allowed herself to enjoy it. Such a thing would only make their parting all the more painful, but she needed this. Needed the memory to sustain her in the lonely years to come.

She knew the instant he awoke. His muscles tightened; his breath caught. He made a sound, something low and deep and woven with contentment. Slowly, so slowly, his hands began to move over her bare skin. Gently, tentatively, he explored her. His touch made the tiny hairs on her arms prickle, made goose bumps rise in supplication for more.

She allowed herself to float back to a time when the world was pure and beautiful. When a boy and a girl made love beneath the stars, and pledged their eternal devotion with the moon as their only witness.

I will always love you. I will always be there if you need me.

Perhaps it hadn’t been a lie, so much as a wish.

Perhaps, in her grief, she had villainized him more than he deserved. They had both been victims of circumstance back then, corks bobbing in a sea they could not control. They had both been so young. Maybe it was time for her to release her resentment and forgive him…a little.

Though that was probably the rising lust talking.

She hardly cared. She liked this new and welling emotion, one not tinged with bitter barbs. She hoped she could cling to it for a while at least, because it made her feel…wonderful.

He made her feel wonderful.

This time, their lovemaking was not frantic, was not a competition as much as a collaboration. They worked together, in concert, bringing each other to the edge of glory, each inciting the other to higher passion and dizzying release.

When it was over, they clung to each other again and no words passed between them.

No words were necessary.

It was a long time later, after they’d shared the dreadful MRE—she’d forgotten how hideous they could be—after they’d donned the armor of their clothes once more, that they finally spoke.

He stared at her through the gathering shadows with an intensity she could not ignore. “That was…unexpected.” A grave tone.

“It was.” She busied herself with rearranging her pack, but only because the moment was too raw to face head-on. Still, she felt his attention on her, singeing her.

“We…are well matched.” Why there was a thread of surprise in the words was a mystery. Or not.

She sucked in a breath and forced herself to look at him. “We are.” Their gazes tangled; she couldn’t look away. Felt the
connection
to the marrow of her bones. Damn him.

“It hasn’t been…like that for a long while.”

“How long?” She didn’t know why she asked. She didn’t really want to know.

Fortunately, his answer was vague. It was accompanied by a shuttering of his expression. “A long while.”

She remembered his comment about utterly forgettable affairs, and some semblance of satisfaction rose within her. “Will you remember this?” A stupid, careless question; one that exposed her vulnerable underbelly.

His sharp laugh bounced off stony walls. “Yes. Yes, I will.” He glanced down at his hands. Threaded his fingers. Frowned. “Will you?”

Would she remember this? Him? His touch? His scent? The feel of his body over hers, filling her, bringing her to rapture? To the day she fucking died. She lifted a shoulder. “Probably.”

His nostrils flared in amused outrage. “Probably?”

“Umm hmm. It was pretty good.”

“Pretty good? It was fan-fucking-tastic.”

It had been. “Yeah. It was okay.”

He growled at her, something playful and heartbreaking, because it was a glimpse of the boy he’d once been. “Do you want me to give you something to remember?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Like what?”

“A spanking sounds pretty good right now.”

A thrill shot through her at the thought, but she merely smiled. “I’d like to see you try, Hot Rod.”

Clearly this intrigued him. “Would you?”

She lifted the hem of her jeans, exposing her KA-BAR and reminding him she was hardly a simpering maiden. “I’ve gutted a man for less.”

She didn’t expect his rolling laughter. But then, maybe she did.

They both knew the score here. Neither of them was a romantic at heart.

“So…” he said, settling that penetrating gaze on her once more. “What do we do about this?”

“What?”

“Where do we go from here?”

Shit. Was he really asking what she thought he was asking? She firmed her jaw and adopted a nonchalant mien. “We’re making our way to Salvation, I recall.”

He frowned. “I’m not talking about the mission. I’m talking about us.”

Us?
A blade lanced her heart. “There is no us.”

He waved at the spot where they’d joined. Twice. “Isn’t there? What was that?”

“Two horny people scratching an itch?”

She had no idea why he looked so wounded. “Is that all it was to you?”

No. No. Not hardly.

“Of course.” It cost her, but she managed a flippant tone.

He stilled. Studied her. For far too long.

“Don’t get me wrong. It was
awesome
.” She tossed in a touch of, like, a Valley girl cant, just to underscore her insouciance.

“I see.” He stood and began collecting their things. “We should go.”

Fuck. She hated the detachment in his voice. Even though this was what she wanted, what she’d been trying for.

Or had she been?

If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t.

She didn’t want him to be remote and cold. She’d only wanted to put that wall between them so she could feel safe again…and maybe sting him with a barb. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

But now, she regretted it.

The gratification, ersatz as it was, wasn’t worth the cost.

But it was too late, wasn’t it? The words could not be unsaid. Beyond that, she needed the wall. Craved it. Barren and cold though it was on her side of it.

Without a word, because surely she would say something extremely stupid at this point—such as,
I love you
—she stood as well and prepared for the remainder of their hike.

That was the true horror here, wasn’t it?

She did still love him. Even though he’d broken her heart and left her alone in a hard world. Even though she still suffered the sting of his betrayal.

She loved this man, and she would love him until the day she died.

It eviscerated her that they could not be together—especially after that scorching tryst—but she didn’t see how such a thing could work. She was too damaged to succeed at anything as fragile as a happy ever after. And she didn’t think she could trust him—really trust him—again.

So there it was.

An afternoon of delight meant to sustain her for an eternity.

Hardly enough. But it would have to be. She could stretch it thin and make it last.

Although her soul rebelled at the thought.

“Ready?” he asked. His voice was bleak.

She shouldered the pack. “Yup.”

“I calculate about three hours to town, barring any major deviation.”

“Sounds good.” She shot one more look around their shelter, ostensibly checking for things left behind, but it was more than that. It was one last glimpse of what could have been if fate had not stepped between them and ripped them apart.

 

Two horny people scratching an itch.

Her words circled like buzzards in his head. Goddamn her.

How easily she had shattered his fragile hope.

For years, he’d searched for this. This feeling. This glory. This connection.

He’d never found it, not with any woman since Sam. Not until now. It had been an awakening, an epiphany, a redemption of sorts. He wanted to hold on to it. It was a visceral ache, a hunger, a need.

To her, it had been a casual fuck, a conflagration of hormones and adrenaline, an itch to scratch.

His fury fueled his pace as they lit out of the cave into the darkening night. She had to scramble to keep up with him, but he didn’t care.

And yeah, that was the heart of it. The crux of it.

He’d spent much of his life trying so hard not to care about anything, because a world without his Sam wasn’t worth his attention. He’d focused on his career, his job. He’d struggled to be the best goddamn SEAL, the best goddamn agent, the best goddam warrior he could be. It had become his everything. Filled his mind, his heart and his soul. Driven him.

But now he saw that for the illusion it was.

He’d just been killing time. Walking through each and every day, a wraith, an empty shell.

For ten years, he’d been nothing more than a machine following his program.

But now…now he’d glimpsed a reality, a life that was warm and fertile and that fed his soul.

Now, he realized how utterly bereft his existence was.

Now, he needed more.

Two horny people scratching an itch.

He couldn’t believe she felt that way. How could she, when he’d been so certain, so convinced, that this had been no less than transformative for them both?

He shot a look at her beneath his lashes and studied her expression as they made their way over the rocky landscape. Her features were tight, hard, determined.

Something flickered in his chest. If she truly were apathetic about what had happened, she would not seem so defiant, would she?

Judging from her cries, her passion, her desperation during their lovemaking, he knew he’d reached her core. He’d touched her soul and she’d touched his. At least she could admit that.

But she hadn’t.

No. Her response had been the immediate erection of her battlements—battlements he’d taken down stone by stone. He hated to see that wall go back up, but a part of him acknowledged it was indicative of something.

One didn’t need such protection if one didn’t feel threatened. And one didn’t feel threatened unless one felt at risk of losing something.

That in itself proved her indifference a lie.

Matt set his teeth and increased his pace, almost to a jog.

Yeah. He was going to get her to safety, and then he was going to seduce her again.

He was going to make her admit the truth. That she felt this connection as deeply as he did.

He would make her admit it. Or die in the attempt.

 

They arrived on the outskirts of Salvation in record time, probably because Matt set a grueling pace. It had taken everything in Sam to keep up. Even now, her lungs ached.

She could hardly blame him for wanting this over. She wanted it over too.

Well, part of her did.

As they crested the rise and the lights of the tiny township came into view, she battled with relief and misery. Soon they would be safe. Soon they would be parted.

Matt pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the town. “There’s a motel, there.” He pointed to the far end of town. “We should head for that.”

“A motel?” Jesus God. She couldn’t bear spending time with him in a room with a bed.

As though he’d read her mind, he shot her a caustic glance. “They’ll have a phone. We can call in the cavalry.”

“Cooper will have thought of that.”

“Yeah. Let’s keep that in mind.” He studied the layout. “We can approach under that cover there, then circle around and come in on the back side.”

“Right.” That was her thought too.

“Check your ammo.”

In concert, they both pulled out their weapons, checked the clips and then slapped them back in. “Fully loaded,” she said.

“Same here.” He glanced at her. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay.” His lips quirked up, just a tad. “Let’s do this thing.”

They moved slowly through the brush toward the town. Every now and then, Matt would lift his fist and they’d stop so he could scan the shadows. It was a good thing it was night. If they’d arrived in the daylight, they would have been in full view. Still, they didn’t know if Cooper had night-vision glasses—he very well could have—in which case they would be walking into a trap.

But they had no other option.

They needed to get to a phone.

The closer they came to the motel—a rundown remnant from a more prosperous era, dubiously named the OK Corral—the more slowly they moved.

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