Found in Understanding: Refuge Series Book Three by Debbie Zello (22)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Over the next few weeks, I saw Trigger at work at least two times every week. We went to dinner or the movies on the weekends. I had several papers to complete and various exams to study for, so it wasn’t as much time as we wanted to spend with each other. At last, by the second week of May, I was finished with my finals and free, except for work.

I moved my clothes and personal items into my summer sub-let and settled into my off-school schedule. I worked more hours at the coffee shop and I had more time to spend with Trigger.

We were watching a war movie, sitting on my couch. His arm was across my chest holding me close to his. He kissed the top of my head repeatedly. “You said you got your nickname because you were in the service. I’ve heard of G. I. Joe and Jar-head but why Trigger?”

“I’m a dead shot. I have never missed, at least not yet. If I want to shoot you in the head, that’s where you’ll get it,” he said calmly. He wasn’t bragging, just stating fact.

“Have you ever shot someone?”

“Yes,” he said sadly.

“On purpose? To kill them?” I asked sitting up to look right in his eyes.

“Yes. I was a sharpshooter, Neomi. My job was to kill people. I was very good at my job. Does that change things?” he said visibly steeling himself, waiting for my answer. Now much of his façade made sense to me. He had a power around him. An animal hunger that permeated his being.

“No, because I’m not afraid of you. I know that you would never hurt me, intentionally,” I said pulling him to my lips for a kiss. He deepened the kiss floating his lips over mine, making me shudder in his arms.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me. I’ve never felt this much passion for anyone before, Firelight. I want to take care of you. I want to be with you. It’s potent magic that you weave over me.”

“I don’t know any magic. But I feel things for you, too. Feelings I haven’t felt in a long time. I think I’m falling in love with you,” I said holding his face between my hands. I wanted to make sure I was looking directly in his eyes when I said this. His smile widened.

“You are one amazing woman. I can’t believe you’re taking me on.” He moved his hands to hold my face. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. The thought that you might love me too makes me very happy.”

We held each other until the end of the movie. My stomach growled loudly. I got up saying, “I’ll make us some dinner before we starve to death.”

“We can order something if you want,” he offered.

“No, I want to cook for you tonight. I bought some chicken and I thought I would bake it with potatoes.”

“Sounds great! What can I do to help?”

“You can wash the potatoes, how’s that?” I said walking to the kitchen. He followed me in and went to the sink. I took out the two russet potatoes I had in the fridge and handed them to him. I had washed the chicken and breaded it this morning so all I had to do was plop it in the oven and turn it on.

I walked up behind him and lifted his shirt so I could feel his skin. He was so warm and I could feel the ripples of his abs under my fingers. “Do you have any tats?” I asked.

“Two, do you want to see them?” he said, drying his hands.

“Yes, I do. I have a thing for men with tats. Not if they’re covered in them but I like a few on your skin,” I confessed. I watched him as he took his shirt off and threw it on the chair where his leather jacket was. His chest, shoulders, and abs were sharply defined. His body a finely sculpted machine that was splendid to look at. There was a bear paw with sharp looking claws on his right pectoral. Above it in script lettering it read ‘Trigger.’ “Nice.” I said.

“It’s the symbol from my unit. Most of us got one, it’s an Army thing.”

“I like it, it’s a man thing. Where’s the other one?” I said curious.

“I’ll have to take my pants off if you want to see that one,” he said staring at me. I swallowed hard and he smiled. “Too much?” he asked.

“I want you to make love to me,” I whispered.

“Are you sure about that? That moves everything forward in a huge leap. Once I see you naked, I won’t be able to go back. Once you’re under me, that’s where I’ll want you to stay,” he responded, touching my cheek.

“I’m sure,” I said taking his hand and walking to the bedroom.

Trigger sat in the chair next to the bed and began quickly removing his boots. He tossed them one-by-one into the corner, with a loud thump. This wasn’t the slow-strip-tease that I had imagined in all of my seduction dreams. It was more like the husband that comes home late from work and takes his clothes off for the purpose of going to bed. Like it’s his last chore of the day. Nothing sexy about it. But yet still, I was staring.

His socks joined his boots and then he stood. His belt jingled as he moved the leather through the metal buckle. He was talking, saying something, but his voice was so far away the words didn’t register with me. My ogling was so intent, everything else fell away.

He unbuttoned his jeans, and then he began to unzip his zipper. I had done this motion myself, thousands of times. A zipper has a certain sound. This one was different. It scratched its way down in a low tone. Goose bumps raised on my arms at the sound. I closed my eyes for a moment as if to rest them as I listened to the hum.

The jingle from his coins and keys mashing together in his pocket had me staring again. Men’s pants are noisy, once more, this was new information. He stepped out of the legs and folded them in half tossing the jeans on the chair behind him. His black boxer-briefs left nothing to my imagination. He was definitely in there. He stripped them off in one swift motion, exposing his entire body to my eager eyes.

My mind was a complete blank. I tried not to stare but it would have been easier to stop breathing entirely. In my assessment, I found him to be simply magnificent. I was hit right between my eyes with his blatant masculinity. His size scared me. I had used shorter poles to stake my tomatoes.

I felt the air shift across the space of the room between us. He must have spoken louder as his voice broke through my dense fog. “You should see your face,” he said. My eyes roamed from his groin upward, over his defined abs and massive chest, to his muscular neck and lips, then his eyes. “You look shocked. Or is it that you’re scared? What’s wrong, Firelight?” he asked, pointedly.

“I…um…I’m…” I was stammering. My brain refused to reignite to make a sentence. I could feel the flush of my lack of experience creep all over my body. I swallowed hard to try to alleviate the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“What are you trying to say, Neomi? You’re not even undressed. What’s the problem?” he said, frowning. He stood there completely naked and seemingly comfortable with it. In a commanding and yet not frightening stance. I could see he was beginning to lose patience with me and my lack of communication. My eyes fell to the bed and I turned to sit on the edge afraid my legs were about to fail me. He walked around to my side and lifted my chin with his fingers. “You have seen a man before, right Neomi?”

“Yes…in pictures,” I said softly and with a deep sigh. I watched the weight of what I had just said come over him.

“You’re a virgin?” he whispered, looking ashen. I nodded my head.

“Oh, Christ,” he said, closing his eyes in frustration. “I can’t do this.” He walked back around the bed, grabbed his boxers and quickly shoved his legs into them.

“You’re angry with me because I’m a virgin?” I asked. He pulled his boxers up shoving himself back into them aggressively.

“I am mad. Mad at myself for being less of a man than you deserve. You saved yourself for the wrong guy, Neomi. I won’t do this. I’m not fucking good enough for you.”

“Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?” I said, quietly.

“I’ve been with club whores and God only knows who else. A virgin would never understand the depths of my depravity. Some of the things I have done would shock you. I don’t fucking deserve to have you,” he admitted, sadly. The whole time he spoke, he continued to dress. He was nearly finished.

I took a moment to evaluate my so-called-life. I’m twenty-one and I’ve never had a relationship that went this far. I felt things for this man that I had only experienced once before. If I let him walk out without a fight, I would regret it for the rest of my life. “Do you believe in destiny? That two forces are put together for a reason. That maybe neither of them knows why and it’s not for them to ask. It’s just the way it has to be. That’s how I feel about you and me. I want to go with that feeling. Why can’t you?”

“I think I explained it to you. It doesn’t matter what I want. At this point, it’s what is good for you. And this,” he said waving his hand over his body. “Is not what you need.” He turned to walk out of the bedroom.

“Please tell me that you love and want me just as much as I love and want you. If you don’t I’ll leave you alone, just as I found you.” I said, turning to stare at the window.

His boots clicked along the wood floors through the living room and into the kitchen where his shirt and jacket were hung on the back of the chair. There was a pause with no noise, as he must have put his shirt on. Then I heard the rustling of his keys being removed from his pocket. I held my breath hoping not to hear the door open. He walked to the front door and opened it. The familiar hitch of the hinges sounded and I exhaled knowing it was over. He had made his decision. My feet said to run after him, my heart agreed. My stubborn head said no, it’s important that he has to want you.

I stood and walked to the window knowing I would see him ride away. Stupid, like the teenager looking for the last sight of him. I banged my head on the casement a few times saying, “You’re an idiot. You should have just taken your clothes off and never said anything about being a stupid virgin. I didn’t think he would be so turned off. He didn’t even see my tattoo. He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” I said, aloud still looking out of the window.

“Yes, he does,” I heard him say from behind me. I spun around and he was standing in the doorway.

“I thought you left.”

“I opened the door to go. Then I thought about it. I’m going to stay and tell you everything. Then it will be up to you to choose. You were right, it should be your decision, and not mine.”