CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Falls Church, VA
Wednesday, 5:30 a.m.
VALERIE’S HEART SLAMMED AGAINST HER rib cage, beating out a warning. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
Scott’s expression changed from stony implacability to soft-jawed surprise in response to her confession. “From what?” he asked, his mouth turning down as he straightened and looked at her with those bright blue eyes.
She swallowed hard. The flash of a blade, fire-hot agony, blood dripping between her fingers. Her dad gasping for breath.
“Hey,” Scott said, pulling her back to the present. “Forget about it. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No. I want to.” She squared her shoulders and shoved the painful images back into the vault in her mind where they belonged. Fingering the bandage on her arm where she’d cut it at the gas station, she said, “I tried to stop the man who murdered my dad and…he cut me.”
There. It was out, and she’d managed to sound almost normal, even as bile rose in her throat. Would she ever be able to look back on that day without having a visceral reaction?
Scott clenched his fists and muttered, “Mother fucker,” under his breath.
She twined her fingers, dreading what came next. For several moments, the only sound was the rain pattering on the roof and wind slapping the screen against the window.
“So you’re a protector too,” he said, his words stopping her from lifting her shirt.
Her world tilted at his unexpected response. “What do you mean? I was too slow to react, and he killed him,” Valerie said, forcefully. “I failed.”
Scott gave a wry laugh. “Taking action is what counts. You called me a protector, but do you have any idea how many times my dad hit my mom before I finally stopped him?” His voice rose and darkened with self-contempt. “Do you know how many times I wanted to step in front of him but did nothing? And when I did finally grow a pair, I might as well have been a gnat fighting an elephant. Until I got my hands on his gun, I was worthless.”
Valerie’s heart hurt, even as his words began to heal something within her. Why was it so easy to have compassion for others but not ourselves? “You’re right.”
Scott’s eyebrows rose.
“Not about being worthless,” she added quickly. “About intentions. We both wanted to protect someone. My dad died anyway, but I did my best.” Believing that in the depth of her soul would take some more time, but she could feel the shift inside her as a physical thing, and despite their current circumstances, her body lightened. “And you eventually found a way, though I wish the boy you were had another choice.”
“Me too.” Scott’s gaze roved the bedcovers for several moments, unseeing. “My mom was relieved, but I think she was scared of me after that. After all, if I could kill a man, was I any better than Richard ‘The Dick’ Kramer? My sister hasn’t spoken to me since.”
No wonder he expected her to be frightened by him. The two women he cared about most had rejected him for taking the action that had saved them. For doing what came naturally to him. Not killing, as he thought, but defending others. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” He clasped both hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
“You don’t scare me,” she said softly.
He dropped his hands and met her gaze, his eyes smoldering like blue fire, but he made no move toward her. She’d put him off before, and she’d let the conversation veer away from her ugly wound, happy for the change of topic. Except now they were back where they’d started. She craved his touch, but he hadn’t yet seen her scar, and she was unwilling to spring it on him in the heat of the moment.
Slowly, her eyes never leaving his, she removed her shirt and tossed it to the floor.
His breath left him in a rush as his gaze skipped over her naked breasts and snapped to the puckered line that slashed across her ribs from just beneath her right breast to her left pelvic bone. “Jesus,” he whispered.
She gripped her thighs to keep from covering herself with her arms or the comforter. “It’s ugly.”
Reaching out with a wince as he jostled his leg, he skimmed his fingers lightly over her ruined skin. “It’s a fucking badge of bravery.” His voice was full of awe and anguish. “I only wish you’d never had to earn it.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. For fourteen years, she’d regarded her scar as the mark of her dad’s killer, a way for him to continue to intrude on her life. And more importantly, a mark of her failure. “I’ve never thought of it that way,” she said, beginning to see everything in a new light through Scott’s eyes. He never registered revulsion. Anger on her behalf, maybe. Or sorrow. But not disgust. “Thank you.”
Their eyes met. “Thank you for trusting me,” he said, his gaze flickering to her breasts and back to her face as she slid off the bed and stood next to him. He licked his lips and watched her, not bothering to hide his desire.
Heat shimmied through her and made her stomach tingle. “I showed you mine…”
He hesitated long enough that she thought she’d miscalculated. Then he said, “You just wanna get me naked.”
She gave him a coy look, “Maybe.”
His answering smile lit his gorgeous face, and her heart stuttered. He let his gaze roam over her body, cranking up her inner furnace as surely as if he’d touched her. “I don’t think I’m ready to bare all,” he said, leaning against the headboard ever so casually and putting his hands behind his head in a way that showcased his ripped biceps. “Not without some incentive.”
“Oh, yeah? How’s this for incentive?” She shucked her pants and underwear and carefully straddled his lap.
Scott’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the sight of Valerie naked. She was so fucking beautiful, scar and all. Except he wanted to hunt down and kill the bastard who’d hurt her—both physically and emotionally—so badly.
But now, right now was for getting his hands on all of her smooth skin and her fabulous curves.
She straddled him and he almost lost it. Mind. Blown.
“Christ, you’re hot,” he said, combing his hands into her hair and pulling her in for a kiss he’d been waiting hours to take.
Her lips were soft and warm and willing, and he plied her with soft brushes and nibbles and licks until she opened for him. He fell deeper under her magic with every sweep of her sweet tongue and stroke of her hands over his chest. She tasted like mint and joy and redemption and he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to tear off his boxers and bury himself so deep inside her that he forgot his name.
With a quick nip at his lips, she withdrew, putting enough space between them to look at him. Her gold-flecked brown eyes shone with mischief and heat and need. “You’re not holding up your end of the bargain.”
He spread his palms over her generous breasts, kneading their delicious softness and caressing the dark pink nipples with his palms. When her gaze turned slightly out of focus, he said, “I got distracted.”
“Hmmpf.”
Chuckling, he leaned forward and suckled her gently. She gasped and closed her eyes. He sucked harder and lightly scraped her rigid flesh with his teeth. She moaned and dropped her head back, grinding her pelvis onto his impossibly hard erection.
Holy shit, she was incredible. As much as he wanted her—right fucking now—he could no longer imagine the quick and dirty fuck he’d craved just minutes earlier. She wasn’t some meaningless lay, and he didn’t want to rush.
Her breath came faster as he continued to fondle and nuzzle and kiss her. “Take off your shirt,” she demanded.
“You do it.”
She tugged his T until he had to part from her to get his head and arms free, nearly ripping the seams in the process. God love her enthusiasm.
He dove toward her, impatient to bury his face in her soft bosom, but she pushed him away. “Let me ogle,” she said, narrowing her eyes in mock anger.
Scott couldn’t hold back a laugh. Who knew she’d be playful in bed? He freaking loved her like this.
His smile faltered. Don’t get attached.
But how could he not? The way she looked at him… Jesus. His heart fluttered like a wounded bird.
Growing up, he’d been short and scrawny. The Dick had called him a pencil neck, a bag of bones, a twig he could snap with his bare hands… The girls at school had thought he was “cute,” like their little brothers. Fucking demoralizing for a horny teenager. Scott couldn’t change his height—which at five-nine was statistically about average, but felt short nonetheless, especially at Steele where the other guys were built more like Dan—but he had hit the gym hard in juvie and packed on as much muscle as his body type would allow while in the Marines.
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met,” Valerie said, toying briefly with the HOG’s tooth strung around his neck before reaching out to trace his pecs. Her feather-light touch sent shivers down to his toes. Then she trailed her fingers slowly over the ridges of his abs leaving sparks in her wake. When she reached his boxers, her fingers slipped beneath the waistband and skated along the edge of the fabric as she held his gaze.
He forgot how to breathe as she tugged the only barrier between them lower.
Taking her hands in his, he stopped her progress and gave her a desperate, hungry kiss that stretched out far longer than he’d intended. “Hang tight,” he said, lifting her hips to move her off his lap.
She frowned, but scrambled aside. Once on his feet, he took a deep breath, drew his underwear down over the bandage, and let the boxers drop to the floor as he straightened.
The moment of truth.
Her eyes widened.
As much as he wanted to believe she was impressed by his cock, his scars had her full attention now. He shouldn’t worry. Did he want her any less for the nasty ribbon that cut across her ribs? Hell no.
Still, she was the first woman to see him naked outside of a hospital. What if his scars sent her running for the hills? Heaven knew he avoided them whenever possible.
“How long were you in the hospital?” she asked, scooting to sit on the edge of the bed, posed like some kind of X-rated pinup.
Despite the stellar view, his erection softened at her question, and he sighed. “Almost a year.”
She gasped.
“My femur was broken in several places. Plus, the burns… And I needed a lot of physical therapy.”
She bit her lip and looked up at him. “May I?” she asked, waving her hand at his pelvis.
He nodded, mesmerized by the sight of her elegant fingers so close to his gnarled skin as she moved in closer.
Her touch was so light he couldn’t even feel it. She glanced up. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. The nerve endings are pretty much destroyed.”
She traced the lumps and tendrils of skin with slow, deliberate strokes and then placed her palm flat over top of the worst scars and gripped his hip. Something in her demeanor shifted, and her silken breath caressed his penis.
“I’m so glad you survived,” she said, her voice hoarse.
His dick twitched and came to life again, and he nearly groaned in embarrassment. Great timing. He made to step back, but Valerie wrapped her fingers around his renewed erection. His pulse tripped.
“Make love to me,” she said, her gaze steady, resolved.
“Why?” The word came out before he could stop it, but if this was a pity fuck— What? He’d say no? Yeah, right.
She released him as she leaned back on the bed resting on her elbows and—thank you, Jesus—spread her legs, giving him a glimpse of the treasure hidden beneath her dark curls.
He turned painfully hard.
“Because I’ve wanted you for days and I don’t want to wait any longer.” Watching his face, she lay flat out and raised her arms over her head. “Make love to me, Scott.”
Valerie shivered in anticipation as Scott kneeled carefully before her. Every five seconds she wanted to cover her midriff, hide the ravaged skin that marked the worst day of her life, but the hungry expression on his face—like a wolf on the prowl—reminded her that he didn’t care.
In his eyes, she wasn’t damaged.
Logically, she knew that. His scar didn’t change her opinion of how sexy he was, so it should be the same for her, right? But that hadn’t been her experience with men in the past. They either treated her with too much care, or were turned off. Either way, the scar interfered.
But not today, not with Scott.
He ran his rough palms up her thighs, massaging as he went and following the trail he blazed with hot, openmouthed kisses that made her body tingle and yearn. And made her thankful that she’d shaved her legs with one of the razors she’d found in the stash of toiletries. He tugged her closer to the edge of the bed and slid his hands under her buttocks, lifting her slightly, bringing her closer to his mouth.
Her face heated—she’d never done this with the light on—but then he licked her in one long, powerful stroke and she forgot about the light, her scar, being on the run, and everything but the warm, electric pleasure rippling from her core out to her limbs. He kissed and licked and suckled, sometimes diving into her with his tongue and then returning to lavish the most sensitive part of her body with loving attention, his beard rasping against her thighs amping up the onslaught of sensations.
She tangled her fingers in his soft hair and held on for the ride, forgetting to breathe as he snaked a hand up her body and caressed her left breast. Eyes closed, she arched up as everything within her came together in a single, shining point of light and then burst apart like a supernova, showering her with stars, like glitter raining down from above.
A noise escaped her, half cry, half moan, and she fought for air as he eased her down with butterfly kisses on her stomach.
Putting his right knee on the bed, Scott moved over her and gave her a smoldering grin. “You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
She laughed, suddenly shy. “You did that.”
He nodded. “I did.” He spent a few minutes exploring her breasts with his mouth and hands, ramping up the heat that coursed through her, before looking up with a playful smile. “I’m going to do it again.”
“But—”
He cut her off with a slow, sensuous kiss that went on for days and chased away all thought. When he pulled back, he said, “There’s nothing I’d rather be doing right this second than tasting you.”
Oh.
Her heart swelled. In this moment, the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, she could almost believe this was something more than a quick fling, something more than the fleeting attraction of two people forced together under unreal circumstances.
Without waiting for a response, he snuck a hand under her back and slid her higher on the bed. Then he lowered himself between her legs and set her on fire again and again and again, until her muscles were worthless and she was desperate for him.
He stretched out on his right side next to her and caressed her ribs. She rolled to face him, and began stroking his erection until he closed his eyes on a groan. “Stop,” he said, gently holding her wrist. “I want to be inside you when I come.”
Her pulse tripped. “I’m ready.”
His chuckle sounded strained. “I’m more than ready, but we need a condom and I don’t want to stop touching you long enough to go searching for one.”
Reaching over her head for the nightstand, she opened the drawer and removed one of the condoms she’d stashed there earlier in a fit of wishful thinking. Thank God for optimism. “Wish granted.”
“You planned this,” he said, his tone amused as he stroked her thigh, seemingly incapable of breaking contact.
She could feel the blush creeping up her face like a rising flood. “Hardly, but I planned for it. You know, just in case.”
“I hope you put a few more in there.” He shifted onto his back and let her roll the condom on. “First ride’s free,” he said, gesturing her to climb on.
She laughed and threw her leg over him, careful to avoid his injury. Which made her pause. “Is this going to hurt you?”
Sitting up, he gave her a hard, fast kiss and said, “If I’m not inside you in the next five seconds, I’m going to be in a lot of pain, and not from my leg.”
“I’m serious. What if you pull a stitch or start bleeding again?
“Stop thinking. I’m fine.” His thumb swept her clit and her breath hitched at the intense rush of heat. “Stop worrying and make love to me, Valerie,” he said, echoing her words back to her.
“Only if you don’t move your hips.” She leaned over him, placing her hands next to his head and brushing her breasts against his sculpted chest. “Just lie there and let me do all the work,” she said, summoning her most seductive voice. Two could play at this game. Luckily, this was a game they’d both win.
His hands encircled her waist. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You promise?” She drew out the words as her mouth traced a path from the edge of his beard, down his throat, and across his shoulder.
“Scout sniper’s honor, honey. Now fuck me.”
His rough command made her body throb with desire. Reaching between them, she guided him to her core and slowly settled on his hard shaft, rocked by the sensation of being filled by him.
He groaned and closed his eyes. “Jesus,” he muttered, stretching up to capture her breast in his hot mouth.
For a second, she held still, savoring their connection, the sense of total completeness. Then his hips jerked, and she sat up to ride him, her rhythm turning faster, more frenzied as the delicious friction pushed both of them toward the edge.
Scott’s hands gripped her upper thighs hard, and he clenched his jaw, blue eyes dark as twilight as he came with a low, animal growl.
The sounds of his pleasure pulsed through her, heightening the sensations that pushed her closer to ecstasy. Then he once again stroked her with his thumb as she rode his aftershocks, spinning her to new heights.
She was close. So close.
With another caress and a slow thrust, Scott set her alight. She soared above them and slowly drifted back to earth on a warm cloud, collapsing onto his sweat-slicked body, listening to his steady heartbeat, unable to lift a single, pleasure-pummeled muscle.
Rain pattered on the roof, while he made lazy circles on her back with his fingers and gently kissed her hair. “I’m never moving again,” she said.
“Works for me.”
Valerie couldn’t remember a more perfect, more magical moment in her entire life.
Then a soft ding came from her computer.