Chapter Seven
“Set up. Set up. Set up.”
Athena awoke with a start. Moonlight streamed through the windows, creating dark shadows in the cabin. To her right, Thallium tossed and turned as he mumbled with his eyes shut tight. It was obvious a nightmare had him in a terrifying grip, but she didn’t know if it was only the dark musings of his imagination or if it was something deeper, more treacherous that gave him fits. Memories, perhaps? Of his time in the service, of the things he must have had to do in the name of God and country?
Her muscles tensed in preparation of reaching out to offer him comfort, but she held still and curled her fingers into the bed sheet.
This man was a killing machine. Trained for combat. What if she startled him and instead of putting him at ease, she triggered his reflexes and he lashed out, harming or even killing her in the process?
So in the dark she lay, helpless as he turned to his side and curled up into a tight ball. In the low light, sweat gleamed on his skin in flecks of silver, but he shook as if he were freezing cold.
She could barely make out the wing and engine tattoo on his back, and watched as it flexed and rolled with his night terrors. Was it a symbol of his salvation? A banner for the people he called family? Or was it just a bandage slapped on an injury the equivalent of a gunshot wound? It might temporarily stop the bleeding, but true healing would never begin unless the wounds were dealt with by a professional.
Did those people know him? Did they care that they had sent him out to die? Four mercenaries, if not more, had been sent out to protect her. Her. Who was she, really? Nobody special in the fabric of history, although Thallium claimed she was important. That she was doing a greater good for mankind. But there had to be other people out there more worthy than her of the level of protection she’d been provided. People fighting terrorists and mass-murdering fuckheads, who really needed protection by someone like Thallium.
When the trial was over and they parted ways, who would care for him? Who would give him the kindness and attention that he needed away from the battlefield?
An ache burned in her chest as she imagined some other woman’s hands on him, some other woman’s lips against his ear, whispering commands. But it was bound to happen. Their two weeks were almost over, and soon they would part ways, never to see each other again. The thought was so depressing, she was almost tempted to walk out to the middle of a crowd and shout out her presence to anyone who was out to get her, and make the pain go away forever.
But that was just bitterness and hormones talking. Actually, knowing that Thallium was out in the world, fighting the good fight and kicking ass was pretty fuckin’ awesome.
“No,” he shouted, and his hands reached out, searching for what, she hadn’t a clue.
His shivering worsened and the headboard knocked against the wall like an eerie soundtrack accompanying his agitation. She huddled against her side of the bed, trying to become as small as possible as she mentally cursed every bastard who had caused him such dark memories.
“No,” he muttered. “No, no, no.”
With a gasp, he bolted upright, scaring the bejeezus out of her with the sudden action. Somehow, she managed to remain still.
For several minutes, he sucked in air as his fingers gripped the sheets beneath him in a deathlock. Unintelligible moans and squeaks tore from his throat as his shaking continued.
A tear slipped past her lashes and down her cheek as she watched him fight the demons of the past and make sense of his present. His name burned on her lips, but she held back, uncertain of what to do to help him.
After what felt like forever, he grew quiet and his breathing leveled out. His grip on the sheets relaxed and he lifted a hand to swipe over his face. When he turned to glance her way, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep.
The mattress dipped as he shifted. “I’m sorry I w-woke you.”
“Wha—?” she mumbled. “Is it morning?”
“Faker.” He tapped her on the nose. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” she said, perhaps a bit more harshly than warranted, but she was angry, dammit. Not at Thallium, but at life in general. “Don’t ever apologize for what you cannot control. We all have nightmares, Tim. Yours are just worse than others.”
He sighed and blinked a few times, seeming to crawl into himself. “Then I’m sorry if I frightened you.”
“You didn’t.” Much. “I just wish I knew what to do to help you. Or at least make it better.”
In the shadows, she saw him smile and his arm reached out to encircle her waist and pull her flush against him as he laid his head on her breasts. “This. This right here is perfect.”
They clung to each other as if to weather a storm. Tremors continued to wrack him, and she pulled the sheets and the thick down comforter up over his shoulders. Beneath the bedding it was so warm, sweat trickled along her hairline, but Thallium’s skin was icy to the touch.
As she ran her hands up and down his back, the abrasions of his scars tickled her palms, and her anger at the world sputtered back to life.
In her arms lay a good man, an honorable man, who put his life on the line probably too many times to count, and all to protect the freedoms of fuckheads like her ex-husband who used that freedom to prey on the weak. Even worse were the men she had known who used the knowledge they had gained while serving in the military, then returned home and used that education to terrorize the very people they had been out protecting.
Why was the world so jacked up? Why couldn’t people just let others be? Spend more time loving each other, instead of busting heads for power and material shit you couldn’t take with you in the end?
If there was one thing she had learned over the last few days, it was that the only thing a person needed in life was the roof over your head, the land, and mutual respect. Thallium provided the basic necessities, and she provided the moments of whimsy and joy.
Sure, they spent a good amount of time locked together in the most intimate of embraces, but they also learned about each other, talked about their pasts—at least the parts he was allowed to speak of—and found out they had a lot more in common than shitty childhoods and a love of classic cars.
The only topic they shied away from was the future. Not because it was a rule they had agreed upon, but somehow they knew what the future held for them as a couple, and to speak of their imminent parting would cast a shadow over the magic they had conjured together. Even if that magic was all an illusion.
But that time wasn’t now.
Now they were together. And he belonged to her.
She urged him onto his back and lifted his hands to the end of the mattress. “Hold on to the edge. Do not let go.”
“As you wish, my queen.” He smiled and shifted his hips, settling deeper into the bed.
“I wish a lot.” She ran her fingertips down his arms and through the hair on his chest. I wish so much, you’d never imagine.
First with her fingers, then with her lips, she committed his every dip and curve to memory. From the scars on his cheeks to the arches of his feet and all of the glorious pale skin in between.
A line of kisses across his hipbone caused him to buck and chuckle, a sound so enchanting she did it again and again until he cried for her to stop, which of course she refused to do. But she made up for the torture by taking his cock deep into her mouth and sucking on the thick rod as if he were hard candy.
When the flavor of his cum coated her tongue, she pulled away, much to his disappointment.
“Did you honestly think I was going to let you come that easily?” she asked with an evil chuckle, then sat astride his lap.
Back and forth, she worked her wet pussy over his erection, teasing them both until the ache inside her grew too great and she slowly sank down on his shaft. Settling her hands on his chest, she rode him up and down in a nice, slow rhythm, luxuriating in his sighs and moans. She loved the way he struggled between closing his eyes in bliss and watching the way her breasts bounced with her movements. She also loved the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he tightened his grip on the edge of the mattress, twisting, twisting with the need to let go.
But what she loved best was when all that power was unleashed. When she let him off his chain and stood in the path of his storm.
She leaned down and gave him a kiss that quickly grew frenzied with lots of teeth and tongue. She nipped at his lips then whispered in his ear, “Fuck me. Fuck me, you big-dicked bastard.”
In response, he planted his feet and thrust up with his hips, nearly bucking her off.
“More.” She pulled at his shoulders, encouraging him to sit up. “Give me more.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked up the pace, but that still wasn’t enough.
“Come on, Marine,” she shouted. “Is that all you’ve got?”
With a growl, he rolled her onto her back and pounded her into the mattress, coming up on his knees with each lunge. The headboard slammed against the wall, and the windows rattled. A symphony that made her laugh with unadulterated joy.
“Fuck, Athena,” he groaned. “Athena.”
He canted his hips and struck true and deep, setting off a firestorm that rolled from her belly and out all of her pores.
“Timothy,” she screamed. “Put it out. Put the fire out.”
His lips twisted with a grimace and the moonlight cast shadows on his face that made him look more like animal than man. He threw his head back with a shout and poured his cum into her depths.
As he continued to shudder above her, she reached up and cupped his face in her palms. His glassy-eyed gaze met hers and she sank her fingernails into his cheeks, not enough to cause a mark, but deep enough to make him gasp.
“I will never forget this,” she said, and the tears she had refused to acknowledge breached her lashes. “Never.”
“My queen,” he replied and dropped to his elbows, surrounding her in all that was Timothy.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck where her tears mingled with the sweat on his skin.
Together they clung to each other as the dawn claimed the night and they grew another day closer to when they would have to part.