Come to my office after you get changed. Was all that Blue had said to her after they pulled her out of the water. Topside had no idea that she had panicked. Her camera had been damaged during the shark attack, and her faceplate cracked, but that was it. She had also completed her task in the allotted time. She was the only one in the class who had improvised.

She huddled in the bow of the boat feeling cold even in the warmth of the Florida sun. Blue was standing close to her, as if guarding her, but she was lost inside. Other than one during her flight to the Horn of Africa, she hadn’t had a flashback in twelve years. She closed her eyes. Could that have been because she had buried everything so deep, she had effectively closed off her emotions about the day her family had died? Was opening up to Blue bringing everything back?

She squeezed her eyes closed and worked at getting herself under control. She hated this feeling, but it wouldn’t go away.

When the boat docked, she disembarked to go to the bus, Blue steadying her as she walked down the gangplank, his touch all too brief. Once back at the school, she showered and changed back into her uniform.

She headed toward his office, some of her classmates congratulating her for her quick thinking.

When she reached his door, she knocked.

“Come in,” he said.

She opened the door and went inside, closing it behind her. His expression compressed into hard lines. He stared at her, his eyes giving nothing away. He could derail her whole career right here, right now. If they found out she had flashed back underwater and almost lost her shit, it would be a long time getting back into a wetsuit, let alone a dry suit for her deep-sea dives.

He looked dark and foreboding and unapproachable, but the look in his eyes made her heart pound and her knees go weak. She closed her eyes and swayed, the aftermath of her fear and panic leaving her feeling so exposed, so scared of losing what she had fought so hard to gain. He rose from the desk and came around it. She heard the lock turn, then he took her into his arms. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” Blue whispered.

She clung to him, releasing a hard breath, her grip urgent and tense, almost desperate.

She leaned back so she could look at his face. “It won’t happen again. I was just caught off guard by the shark. Please don’t take me out of the water.”

There was a flare of emotion in his eyes, and he tightened his grip on her. “I’m not turning you in, Charlie. You were amazing, not only on the test, but the way you got ahold of yourself impressed the hell out of me. That’s SEAL shit right there. You inspire me and humble me with your courage.”

She started to cry just like that, tears washing down her face.

“It’s all right, beautiful.” He took her hand and slowly, so slowly stroked the palm with his thumb. Charlie was trembling so hard that she wasn’t sure how she made her legs function. The only thing that kept her together was the tight grip Blue had on her.

Locking her arms around his torso, she closed her eyes and sagged against him, his presence making her feel so damned safe. How had she ever gone through so much of her life without this? It made her think of Steve and how supportive he’d been all these years. How much of a father figure he’d been in her life and how she had depended on him? She really needed to tell him that.

He cupped her chin. “I just wanted to hold you for a bit. You had a helluva morning.”

She looked up at him. “The dolphins were amazing.”

He smiled just like he had on the boat. It transformed his face and made her heart stall. God, when that man smiled.

“That’s one thing about you, Charlie. You see the bright side of life. I like that a lot.”

She took in his close-cropped hair, the strong cut of his jaw, and the sensual, full-lipped mouth that had given her so much pleasure. As she stared at him, she read his body language and those subtle nuances she picked up from him. There wasn’t much fear or anger left in him. He had released a whole lot of frustrated energy, but there was a different, almost bright energy about him that bolstered her hope that he was going to get to where he needed to be.

He watched her, his seductive eyes intense and searching as if he was trying to figure her out, who she was beyond this tough navy diver, what drove her…and what she was still hiding from.

In that moment, she felt a sudden shift between them. Her pulse leapt, and she realized she didn’t like being on the receiving end of such an analyzing stare. For as much as she liked observing and scrutinizing a person’s personality and actions, she kept her emotions and soul-deep pain so tightly wrapped up, she wasn’t sure how to deal with them now that they were seeing the light of day.

She’d always felt safe nestled in the navy, always cocooned and surrounded by people and missions, using her joy of discovery and her skills to complete anything they threw at her. But she’d kept everything that had happened that day and those lost at sea days hidden away. She had never expected Blue to bring out in her what she had denied herself for so many years—simple grief, mourning those she had loved so deeply. With that kind of vulnerability, she would have to face everything, and that would take time.

They both had scars, his on the inside and out, hers buried deep. What would happen when she allowed herself to understand everything about them? She had avoided heavy, long relationships, preferring casual, lov’em and leav’em men.

There was something there, something she wasn’t facing, but feeling raw and exposed right now was all she could deal with.

Blue had that power, and it was a fear that shook her to the very core of her being.

Had she signed up for this? Had she really realized that Blue could do this to her? She had wanted it. Wanted to be healed, knowing instinctively that there was more. But was she capable of grabbing it?

“Why don’t you head home? I’ll see you when I’m done here.”

She nodded, pressing her key into his hand. “Will you stay the night, Blue?”

“I can’t deny you anything, Charlie,” he whispered gruffly. “Yes, I’ll stay. I’ll bring something for us to eat. Just rest.”

She left the school and went home. Stripping out of her uniform, she left on her panties. Donning a lacy white T-shirt, she got into bed thinking about him.

She knew the cost of letting him in. Part of it was her inability to resist him even when it was forbidden. He was so wrecked, so lost since he’d come back from Kirikhanistan. She wanted to be the one to help him find his way. But he had to stop running from what was chasing him, relentlessly pursuing him in both his waking and sleeping hours.

When he’d told her what had happened, she knew what she had to do, and the relief of hearing his experience resonated inside her where the pain of her own ordeal had damaged her. Finally, a man who knew…who really, really knew. She reached under her bed and pulled out the length of rope. When he got here, it was time to take the next step with him.

Even though they were professionally crossing the line, this was bigger than the both of them, bigger than the navy, bigger than anything.

She drifted off to sleep, and the next thing she knew, he was standing at the foot of the bed.

He started toward her, gloriously naked as she took in the bare slope of his thickly muscled broad shoulders, all the way down to where his hand was wrapped around his erection. Powerful chest, bulging biceps and a rippled, ripped six-pack. He was well-endowed, bigger than she was used to. A golden brow lifted, as did one corner of his sensual mouth. When he reached her, she set her hand in the middle of that wide chest. He was so hot-blooded and didn’t require much to keep him warm.

She pressed him back. She revealed the black silken coil of rope, and his eyes widened. His chest heaved when his back hit the wall. “Charlie,” he whispered. “No.”

“Yes, baby Blue. You need this. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You can trust me.”

He closed his eyes, groaning and heaving away from her when she touched his wrist. “You need to face this. It’s the only way.”

His jaw clenched, panic in his eyes. The Kirikhan rebel leaders, Boris and Natasha Golovkin, had done quite a number on him. But it was Natasha’s sadistic sexual torture that had done the most damage.

A slow hum of desire replaced her dark thoughts. He was so good for her. She wanted to be good for him.

Blue…Blue…Blue. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. She wanted desperately to hold on to him, but her lifelong goal stood between them. If she gave in to her attraction for this beautiful man, it would muddle all that she had accomplished, making her goals and dreams more complicated.

“We’ll do it in the shower, so you can feel the water on your skin. It will be good. I promise.”

He gained control of his breathing. An irresistible smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “You going to save me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I am.”

“You fucking turn me on. All the way on, Charlie.”

He made her melt when he talked to her like that.

“I vividly remember what those panties…my panties are covering.”

She shivered. “Bathroom, smooth talker.” She took advantage of all his naked flesh and those rippling muscles with her eyes. His close-cropped, glossy hair was so silky looking, and with the caramel stubble lining his jaw, it made his eyes stand out like twin sapphires. She had to catch her breath. “You want to heal, we’ll do it my way.”

His intake of air was immediate.

He went past her, giving her a view of his amazing back and strong ass.

Circling behind her, he slid his hands around her waist and took hold of the bottom of her shirt. He had strong, large hands, sure hands, healing hands.

“Lift up,” he said.

Feeling boneless from his touch and presence, she did the best she could, and he gently pulled her shirt off over her head, tossing it. His hands slid around to cup her breasts.

With a sigh, she relaxed back against his naked chest, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, letting him play with her, getting him relaxed. His mouth came down on the side of her neck, his tongue laving her skin, his fingertips brushing across her nipples, and she reclined even more deeply against him.

He was so good for her.

He moved his hands to the waistband of the lace thong.

He made her feel so sweet—and so sweetly bad.

She arched up on her toes as his hand slid around her waist and down between her legs, under the lace. He left his hand against her groin, pulling her close against him, against his thick, hard arousal.

A groan slipped free from her. God, how she adored him, how she loved this—being close, knowing they’d soon be even closer, with him deep inside her. Receiving him.

From the moment she met him, his energy, so broken, so fragmented, even as he worked to weave it back together, was so damn courageous. Her chest filled with his courage, and she almost couldn’t keep her hands off him. She wanted to rope him so badly, but she had to take this slow. She’d mastered shibari. It had grown out of the restraining of prisoners in feudal Japan—used by samurai. Blue had the samurai heart, honor at his deepest center, a warrior soul.

Trust was an experience that took time. It was all about exposing his core to her. The deepest, darkest part of him that needed to be seen, acknowledged, released, but also the light of him bathing her in warmth and sunshine. In accepting him, she couldn’t help but expose her own core. That was the risk and the reward. In return, she was confident, he would set her free.

“Open for me.” She felt herself expand, reaching for him in a way that was beyond the physical. His thighs tightened along the backs of hers. “Breathe,” he whispered, his breath magic as it touched and mingled with hers, sending heat from his mouth down her torso to her sex. “Come for me,” he rasped, his hot, damp, panting breaths rushing against the side of her neck along with the arousing scrape of his unshaven jaw. A wave of melting pleasure washed through her, leaving a slight tremor in its wake.

He’d taught her not to chase her own desire. It limited her ability to receive pleasure. Receiving came with surrender and acceptance. She closed her eyes, her core pulsing, the feeling so much more intense than even having his fingers on her. Her energy matched his energy, and damaged or not, they were fully aligned. With the purity of giving without needing anything in return, she could feel every pulse of pleasure through his body. His masculine energy infused every pore, every cell.

Anticipation poured through her, coiling tighter and tighter. His mouth on her skin sent even more of his energy into her until she crested, her inner muscles clenching, an incendiary heat ignited by him.

She shivered through her release to the bottom of her soul.

He understood.

“Come on, babe.” He pulled his hand out from between her legs and swung her up into his arms, holding her close.

She ran her hands over his smooth chest. He grinned at her as he tightened his hold.

She loved his smile, the warmth of it, the ingenuousness of it. When he smiled, the hardness of his ordeal in Kirikhanistan slipped away from him, and he looked like an angel instead of a tortured soul, more like what he’d been before he’d been captured. His team had been his salvation, and she was his redemption. Once this was all over, she would walk away and never look back—and she wouldn’t be looking back. Not once. She’d sworn it.

He carried her straight into the shower, panties and all, and started a warm stream of water pouring over them—and then he started in on her with his hands. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered, massaging her all over.

“Say please, Charlie. I want to fuck you.”

His voice was gruff when he repeated, “Please, Charlie, I want to fuck you.”

“Better.”

She felt his palms and his fingers moving over her, working on her, easing the tension from the muscles in her back and shoulders. She felt his strength and the skill of his hands as the water grew warmer and fogged the glass, blocking out the rest of the world.

And she felt the heat of his touch, the softness of the creamy soap he was smoothing over her.

He would find love again. The ghost of Elena would be exorcised. Her jealousy of a dead woman that haunted him was only part of the puzzle to solve. He’d been made for love—and tonight he’d been made for loving her. Turning in his arms, she slid her hands around his neck, over his short, silky hair, and stretched up to meet his kiss.

---

Blue smoothed Charlie’s hair back off her face, his fingers sliding through the wet, dark strands, his palms cupping the sides of her head. Her face was tilted toward his, waiting for his kiss. Water from the shower sluiced over them.

He loved her like this—naked, warm and safely in his arms.

He lowered his mouth to hers and felt her tongue slip inside. God, she was always so hot, so ready. She never just kissed. She moved into him, dark and sweet, pressing against him in a way that instantly went to his groin.

It was crazy to connect like this to a woman he’d just met. But they had the same problems and the same dark way of dealing with them. It scared her, those moments when she’d remembered the trauma, locked in her nightmare flashbacks. She was as tough as he was, but he was deadly when he needed to be deadly, gentle when he needed to be gentle, and as lost as she was.

He’d seen it when she’d been diving, knew that look, the wide eyes, the lost look. She’d gotten disoriented in the dark depths for a brief space of time and failed to do what needed to be done. She’d survived because he’d taken over. He wasn’t going to report it, and he should have. She’d have been out of the service for sure if anyone knew. And his career as a Navy SEAL would be over.

She was the one who analyzed her own risk. Her courage was off the charts, surpassing otherwise tough guys who wouldn’t do half the jobs she volunteered to do. Blue admired her, intended to pass her with flying colors not because he’d wanted her, but because she was hardwired for this job, because her little “problems” made her far more reliable than a whole helluva lot of other divers.

He would take her secret to the grave, and he knew she would protect his with everything she had. They were kindred souls who had faced their own personal horrors and were still around to relive it in flashbacks and nightmares, in waking terrors.

Blue loved working with her, diving with her. It was something about the water, the primordial soup that spoke to them. Water to him was his muse, his playground, his office, and it spoke to him more clearly than either his ability to soar in the air or to be a land shark. Just as he’d taken to anything water related, diving was in his blood as surfing was in his heart and soul.

Charlie did her job better than anyone he’d ever met—routinely, without even having to work at it.

Failure of will got more people killed than equipment malfunctions, and tons of water above was even more dangerous, a liquid world that required quick reflexes, expert timing, unwavering courage, and masterful skills. Charlie knew the price of failure and the single-minded will to win every single time, always acting without hesitation or mercy. She was a SEAL in heart and mind. He felt that kinship with her. In one of those unpredictable split seconds of indecision, he could lose her, or she could lose him. It was the nature of serving their country, and both of them took that in stride.

When she made love, she was a sweet, but deadly softness that was his weakness and his strength.

Her hand slid down between his legs, and she cupped his balls, playing with him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.

Oh, yeah. That was definitely getting him where he wanted to go, especially when she slid her hand back up and started stroking him.

The girl had magic hands, and he let her set the pace and tease him, because the longer he waited, the more of her he got. At least that had been his first thought, but with each stroke, with every time she tightened her palm around him to drive him a little closer to the edge, he remembered how long it had been since he’d been with her, and his thoughts started focusing on having something sweeter and more intense on him than her hand—and, Charlie, she was thinking the same thing. It was easy to tell.

She was ready to put him through his paces, and he was fucking terrified.

Kiss by soft, wet kiss, she worked her way down his body, until she was on her knees and had him in her mouth, her hand still stroking him, her tongue, hot and silky, snaking over the top of him. He reached behind her and turned off the water, and it was all so perfect, the heat and steam, the utter relaxation of his mind, and Charlie—going down on him.

He needed her to be in charge, of everything, and his chest heaved.

Leaning back against the shower wall, he thrust his hips forward, his hand gently cupping the back of her head. He let go of his SEAL crap, his Zen crap, and everything he thought helped him stay in control. He just let go. He thrust again, and she took more of him. Again, and he went even deeper. Christ. It had taken them a while to get even to this place where his fear…his utter humiliation…didn’t overwhelm him.

She stopped and looked up at him, and he gritted his teeth. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he said, his throat closing up.

She reached for the black rope she had deposited near the shower and rose with it in her hands. It was cotton, soft and long. She gently touched his wrists, telling him before she began this process that he might struggle. He struggled for a minute, his muscles remembering how he had fought each time they had bound him. He kept thinking—this is Charlie—she won’t hurt me—but the panic was just below the surface waiting to claim him.

He closed his eyes, the fear overwhelming him for a moment. “Blue, you’re safe with me. I will never hurt you.”

His breathing evened out, and she took that moment to bind him loosely. Her hands felt...gentle and tender. When he looked down into her face, there was the same kind of fear, a vulnerability that only made him want to work harder to overcome his own shit so he could help her overcome hers.

She cupped his face. “You are simply the most beautiful man I have ever seen. You do things to me that I thought were impossible. You didn’t even have to try. People who have been through trauma, they instinctively know. I knew…you knew. They were doing this for themselves because they wanted to, because it felt good on so many levels even when it was painful and emotional, because they were insanely attracted to each other. All that was true.”

“I agree.”

“You have so much integrity. I know this is as hard for you as it is for me. So…” She tossed her head. “You better bring it.”

Then she took him into her mouth again and he went rigid, the memory of Natasha, her sensual voice, the threat of the knife near his balls. Castration a real and deep-seated fear. He remembered killing her and how good it had felt.

“I’m here,” she said. “You’re safe.”

Minute after endless minute of pleasure doubled over on each other, the rhythm of her mouth, the hot, wet glides of her tongue down the length of him and back up, and the sucking—God, he loved it. She didn’t stop, just kept taking him higher, winding him up tighter.

One minute he was enjoying her, the next he was back in that basement. He couldn’t breathe. The sexual gratification coupled with his fear and the adrenaline ratcheting him up even more made it impossible for him to resist the wet warmth of her mouth. Natasha had devastated him, and he was still picking up the pieces. Natasha had been skilled and had never let him orgasm. She’d always stopped just short of his release so that he was left with nothing but the buildup with no relief. He squeezed his eyes shut. He had begged for it. It was the same when she raped him, riding him while Boris laughed as she aroused him to the edge and left him wanting.

He cried out, wanting to come, hating himself.

“Hang on, baby,” Charlie said, and he opened his eyes, tried to see Charlie instead of Natasha’s empty eyes and depraved smile.

He watched as her hands moved softly against his thighs, no knife, nothing but her gentle sucking.

“Take it off,” he said, his voice cracking even as his breathing ramped up. He wanted to be bound, and he wanted to come, but it twisted him up inside at the sickness of it. He struggled against the bonds. “Please, Charlie, let me go,” he pleaded.

She immediately released the rope. He separated his wrists, and his chest heaved with his gut-deep fear. She rose and wrapped her arms around him until his breathing wasn’t so shaky. He squeezed his eyes closed. He had relied heavily on meditation, on the Zen path to healing, but he realized now, it was just a surface thing. In the past, it had always been his touchstone, but somewhere in that basement, in the dark, with hope fading away, he’d lost his way. He knew his rigid and habitual defenses against raw feelings were impeding his ability to focus or relax. Meditation felt discouraging and impossible, only deepening his sense of losing himself, pushing him deeper into his trauma instead of away from it. His hatred of Natasha hadn’t abated either. She’d robbed him of his freedom, stolen it from him. He often relived killing her to get the fear to recede.

It all felt sick and twisted. He hadn’t told Charlie any of this. He was still too raw. Still too humiliated. Maybe he didn’t trust her just yet. Putting everything on the line felt reckless, but ever since he’d been rescued, ever since he’d lost it during battle and was forced to teach this diving course, he didn’t know who he was now.

She kissed his neck, ran her lips over his collarbone. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ll catch you when you fall. I’m your net, and you’re mine. She ran her hands over his body, down the slope of his shoulders, tracing his biceps, molding her hands over his pectoral muscles. “So, beautiful,” she whispered over and over, her soothing voice bringing him back from the dark. He closed his eyes as she kissed her way back down his body.

---

In a lightning quick move, he dragged her against him, lifting her leg along his hip, his fingers hard and rough on her. He made her gasp as he pressed her back against the shower. With a low growl from both his frustration and urgent need, he slanted his mouth across hers and sank his tongue deep, kissing her with all the reckless energy twisting inside him. His mouth devoured hers, and she matched him stroke for stroke, chasing his tongue with her own, letting him know that she was with him all the way.

Her skin tingled everywhere, hot and alive with sensation. She cupped his head, feeling breathless and dizzy and unable to do anything but hold on, let him have his way with her body. He wedged his foot between hers, widening her stance. He entered her. His expression before he crushed his mouth to hers and kissed her was dark, fierce. Their moans mingled, and once he began to move, there was no stopping him. This is what he needed. Judging by the sexual energy and potent heat radiating off him, she prepared herself for a fast, hard, unrestrained ride.

And that’s what she craved. He plunged into her, fast, deep, and strong, a rich, seductive rhythm that pulsed as vitally as her heartbeat. His hips ground against hers with each driving, impaling thrust until she felt him go rigid and his lower body arched into her high and hard, pushing her up and over another crest. Pressing her hands against the shower stall, she came again in a blinding climax of intoxicating speed and delicious sensation.

This time, so did he. His fingers twined with hers as a low growl erupted from his chest and vibrated against her lips as his body jerked violently against hers, and he succumbed to his own blistering orgasm.

With regret in his voice, he whispered against her wet skin, “I’m sorry.”

She stroked his face, cupping his jaw. He hated himself when he acted aggressive with her. This behavior was about getting closer to allowing the space for him to find his center, and then to heal, and it was something to understand, not judge. “It’s all right, baby Blue. You didn’t hurt me. When you take me like that, it makes me feel alive. We’ll get there. I promise.”

“Let me hold you,” he asked, his voice a soft rasp.

“The best part,” she said. She kissed the line of his damp jaw. “Let’s go talk,” she said. “I have questions.”

He groaned into her neck. “Can’t I just have my way with you again?”

“In good time, but first we have to talk.”