Until There Was You (Coming Home, #2) (21 page)

He pressed a gentle kiss to the cool skin between her shoulder blades, his hands gently holding hers above her head. One cheek pressed into the cool, crisp sheets, her nipples aching from the cool kiss of cotton. Again, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, gentle and soft.

“Trust me,” he whispered, sliding his hands down her wrists, over her shoulders and framing her ribs, his touch gentle and slow.

He traced his thumbs down her spine, trailing with his tongue. He licked the edge of her uniform pants, slowly urging them down over her hips, revealing the body he’d admired on one too many late deployment nights. He’d fantasized about having her just like this, open, exposed and completely subject to his desire.

He traced his hands up the back of her thighs, slipping his thumbs into the crease between her cheeks before he placed a soft kiss on the small of her back. She whimpered and squirmed beneath him. He smiled. He wanted her to beg, to hear her whisper his name.

* * *

Claire couldn’t say where time ended and Evan began. The slow, lazy strokes up and down her scarred back, over her buttocks, down her thighs. He drove her wild with his hands. Every so often, his tongue replaced his finger, leaving cool, wet skin in its wake.

She shifted, spreading her thighs a little more, offering him access to her most intimate flesh. A sound of raw male appreciation emboldened her. She arched her back, shifting her thighs wider, looking at him over her shoulder. “Evan …” Her voice was a growl, feral with barely restrained need.

* * *

He laughed low and deep in his chest as he rolled her panties down over her hips, leaving her completely naked, completely gorgeous.

He cupped her cheeks, pressing his open mouth to the sweet flesh right above the dip in her lower back as his fingers finally sought her slick, damp heat.

She jerked, and if he hadn’t had one arm across the small of her back, she might have dislodged him. She tried to rock back against his touch, demanding more. “Evan …”

“Shh.” Slowly, so slowly, he dragged his fingers through her heat, parting her, stroking her. He wanted to taste her, to suckle her where she was hot and swollen and so very wet, but it was too much for him to handle. His cock was steel against the buttons of his uniform. Still, he stroked her, driving her closer to the edge, backing off each time to prevent her climax.

“I swear to God …”

“Say please,” he whispered.

She arched her hips off the bed, damn near throwing him off, but instead, he seated two fingers deep, deep inside her and she came apart so completely he thought he’d die from the sheer beauty of her release.

He stroked her slowly, prolonging her pleasure until she damn near begged him, capturing her gasps in his mouth.

He stripped, rolling the condom on in some kind of land speed record. He kissed her then, urging her onto her back, forgetting for a moment her panic, her fear. He wanted to feel her body beneath his, to kiss her as she wrapped her thighs around his back. But she wiggled and squirmed until he was pressed to her back. He lifted her thigh, draping it over his, and angled his hips until he was there at the opening of her beautiful sex.

And then she arched backwards, and Evan sank home, deep into her lush, wet
heat. He reached between her thighs as he drove into her from behind, stroking her pleasure until she shattered and came apart around him.

And when his own pleasure took him over the edge, he was sure he heard his name on her lips, the sweetest cry, as he tumbled into ecstasy.

* * *

Claire was nestled against him, her body soft and relaxed in sleep. He shifted now in the pale morning light and pressed his lips to the scars on her back.

The worst of them were deep and ragged. Others were pale, thin lines on her skin. He was on his side now, his head propped up in his palm, tracing the path of those harsh furrows in her skin. Beside him, she sighed.

He stiffened, braced for her to pull away. She’d pulled away so often and so regularly. But this morning was full of surprises, and she simply nestled closer.

Maybe she wasn’t fully awake yet.

He hadn’t let himself want this. This simple morning, lying in bed, Claire warm and sleepy next to him. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the center of her shoulder blade. He’d denied himself a happily ever after, had never planned on someone touching the frozen core of his soul. A self-imposed penance for the death of his sister.

But maybe he’d been lying to himself all along. Maybe he’d been denying himself this because he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it. This intense wave of emotion. This connection. There was no control here. This was chaos. This was burning, aching desire that could flare out and consume him.

“Hmmmm.”

“Oh good, you’re awake,” he said, smiling against her skin.

“No, I’m not.” She grumbled the words but there was no harshness to them.

Evan skimmed his fingers over her ribs until she shivered beneath his touch. He
wanted to challenge her defenses, to tear down her barriers one by one.

One in particular nagged at the edge of his sleep- and sex-filled brain. They still hadn’t slept together face to face. He’d wanted to cradle her face in his palms as he’d slipped inside her last night. He’d wanted to feel her orgasm shatter around them both and capture her sighs in his mouth.

But that simple act had eluded him. She’d pushed away, urging him to take her from behind again. And dear lord, it was the singularly most erotic experience he’d ever had with a woman. She was wild and passionate, and used her pleasure to drive him over the edge. But it still wasn’t enough for him.

He traced his tongue over her back and urged the sheet that was tangled around them down until her back was exposed. She sighed, and he felt her legs relax. He stroked his fingertips down her ribs, lightly. Teasing.

“If waking me up without coffee is your idea of a joke, I’ll warn you, I’ve neutered men for less.” But she shifted, a tiny, subtle movement that gave him access to the warm sweetness between her thighs.

“I can make it worth your while,” he whispered, sliding his fingers over the smooth curve of her ass, skirting closer to her center and flitting away, denying them both.

“How?”

“Let’s play twenty questions.”

“Before coffee?” She sounded pained.

“Yeah.” He skimmed his fingertips along the edge of a silver-pink scar, wanting to do more than savor this slow, sexy waking. “Why did you join the army?”

“This really isn’t fair. I’m not conscious yet.” He nipped her shoulder and she cried out before she could stop it, the sound pure pleasure. “I wanted to do something different.”

“Different than what?” He licked the spot where he’d bitten her, leaving a faint
pink mark.

“Working at McDonald’s, hell, I don’t know. Whatever there is to do in a rural Iowa town.”

“You’re from Iowa?”

“The last two years before I joined the army, yeah. We were never anywhere for long, though.” She stretched her arms over her head, pushing the curves of her breasts against the bed. He wanted to shape them in the palms of his hands, but that would require him to shift positions entirely and he was feeling too content to move.

“Why did you move around so much?”

“My dad was a welder. We went where the jobs were.”

“No mom?”

“Not exactly.” She twisted and pulled the sheet higher over her body. “When exactly will this game be over? I need caffeine or bad things will happen.”

She was evading him, he noticed, as he traced the pattern of a star-shaped scar with the pad of his thumb. Her entire left shoulder and upper back bore the physical reminder of secrets she had yet to share. It hurt that she still held so much of herself away from him. “Tell me about these,” he whispered, tracing one with the tip of his tongue.

She stilled, any trace of sensual energy fleeing on the edge of her tension. “I fell into a coffee table once.”

There was more to the story. He could hear it in her voice, in the quiet hitch in her words. Evan changed tactics, massaging the soft skin between her neck and her shoulder, pressing his thumb against a knot. “You should take better care of these.”

“You know an awful lot about taking care of people.” She kept her eyes closed. It was nice to see her face so relaxed.

Claire nestled against him, pulling his arm around her body. She traced her fingers over the branches twisting over his biceps. “Why a tattoo?” she whispered.

Evan closed his eyes, surprised that she’d turned the conversation back to him so
suddenly. But this, he could answer. “Because I didn’t want to forget.”

“She was your sister. How could you possibly forget the night she died?”

He shifted and rested his head on his bent arm. “If you lie to yourself long enough, it becomes true.” He swallowed, barely daring to continue. “My mom and dad never came to visit me when I was at West Point.” He closed his eyes, felt Claire’s fingers curl into his skin. “We never had much of a relationship after Casey died. And I was willing to let them go because I couldn’t stand how much they blame me. I couldn’t let go of Casey, though.” He released a quiet sigh. “My parents let me go because they wanted to forget. I refused to let go of my little sister. I got the tattoo right after I graduated.”

“You sound so … resigned.” She traced her fingers over the edge of his jaw.

“Maybe I am. But I can’t force a relationship where there isn’t one.”

Her fingers danced over his shoulders. “Your tribute is beautiful, Evan.” She kissed the dark branch over the center of his heart. “Your sister was lucky to have you.”

He stiffened. “Claire, I killed her. She wasn’t lucky. She was cursed.”

Her fingers were cool against his cheeks. “You were seventeen. You made a bad choice. And you’ve been punishing yourself ever since.” She pressed her lips to his. “You can regret the end of her life forever. Or you can remember her and honor the life she lived.” Her words pressed around the damaged remains of his heart, a salve. A bandage. And it was too much, all at once.

He turned the conversation back to her. Attempted to lighten it.

“So Claire joined the army. Then what happened?”

* * *

“Claire went to college at night and earned her degree and learned to shut her mouth long enough to make it through Officer Candidate School.”

His hands were wandering beneath the sheet she’d pulled between them. She wasn’t good at this sort of thing. She struggled to avoid his dark eyes, afraid he’d see the tragic, lonely little girl that she’d been. But she didn’t look away.

And what she felt with this man was warm. And safe. And deeply, deeply arousing. She let her own hands wander, sliding over his torso and chest, loving the feel of his dark chest hair crinkling beneath her palms. His belly was tight, his skin hot and smooth. This big, gorgeous body was hers.

She let her hands wander lower and his body tensed beneath her touch. She chuckled deep in her throat, loving the feeling of power that surged inside her at his tacit admission that she aroused him. She teased the evidence of that arousal with the tip of one finger and his erection jerked beneath her light stroke.

She surrendered to a rare feeling of playfulness and leaned closer, breaking away from the hypnotic grip of his gaze to drag her teeth over the rough skin of his jaw, nipping closer to his ear as her fingers circled his erection and stroked him. Slowly.

He exhaled sharply, his breath cutting off as she squeezed him. “Are you torturing me on purpose?”

“No more than you waking me up without coffee.” She traced her thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the warm, moist liquid over the thick, wide tip.

“I might have to get rid of all the coffee in Colorado if this is my reward.” His voice grated against her ear.

He encircled her with his arms, tugging her closer.

Her lungs shut down instantly. She tried to push away the sudden panic but failed, and she reacted the only way she knew how.

She turned away from him. Offered herself to him with a deep, sensual arch of her back and the slight spread of her thighs.

He said nothing to acknowledge her panic and for that she was immensely grateful. He stroked her body, his palms cradling her breasts as he slid his erection
between her thighs from behind, teasing her with it.

A crinkling of plastic and then beautiful, tight pressure as he pressed against her core. She lifted one knee, opening her body, protecting her soul.

And when he slid deep and slow inside her, she cried out at the relief spreading through her veins like a warm, hot drug, sedating the panic. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against him as he moved, an anodyne balm to ragged remains of her soul. She loved the stark, harsh contrast of his tattooed arm against her own. It was deeply moving, erotic and sensual all at once.

She surrendered then to the pleasure, giving herself over to the power of his touch. Dragging him with her into a sensual haze, reveling in the desire, hiding the strength of her reaction from the man loving her body. Because the truth was that she was no longer in control. Somehow, Evan had wormed his way past her defenses. He’d snuck in and nestled near her heart.

And that scared the hell out of her.

It was barely noon, but Evan was not at all surprised to find Iaconelli at the bar. For once, he was not even halfway to half-cocked. The big man was nursing a single beer, a fat lip, and a piss-poor attitude.

“I’m not in the mood right now,” Reza said when Evan pulled up a seat and ordered a beer.

“Yeah, me neither.” Evan ordered a beer, waiting until the bartender slid it in front of him before he spoke. “Did you get the pyro for Engle?”

Reza’s silence was enough of an answer. Evan swore viciously. “What the hell were you thinking, Iaconelli?”

Reza sniffed and scrubbed his hand along the scruff of his unshaven jaw. “I was in Kuwait in late ’02. We weren’t going to war, the President said. We hadn’t made up our minds. Diplomacy and blah, blah, blah.” He took a long pull off his beer. “We sat in Kuwait for weeks. Went to ranges and talked about how easy Desert Storm was, how unprepared the Iraqi Army was. Then the balloon went up and we were heading north.” He shifted and pinned Evan with a hard look. “Do you know what it feels like to cross into a war zone, knowing you could have prepared better? Trained harder. Worked longer hours.”