“Stacy?”
“I'm just going to take a quick shower,” she called over her shoulder to Hawk, who had gone to the kitchen as soon as they got back.
He’d been so quiet since they left the lobby. She knew that his vision loss weighed heavily on his mind. There had been a moment when he’d almost gone down out there on the path, and it made her want to argue for them to step back, figure out where they were going to go from here.
He balked at that idea.
Her shoes went into the closet, and she slipped the dress off and rolled the stockings down her legs. And then he was behind her, his hands on her hips. She straightened and put her hands on his to lean back.
Hawk nibbled at her neck, and she relaxed against him, letting her head fall back on his shoulder. His strong hands could be demanding and gentle. His eyes blazed like a torch, melting her, heating the very center, and sparking desire in her veins.
Her breath caught and her pulse pounded. She couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at her like that: hungry, tender, totally in need and love and desperation…for her.
She tilted her head in a silent question.
“I want you to be safe.”
“I want you, period,” she answered him, shoving aside the debate of what they would do next. As far as this night was concerned, there was no next, just now.
So serious, his eyes never flickered from hers. “Do you trust me?”
“You know I do.” Her heartbeat thumped against her ribcage as her uncertainty grew. “You're scaring me. What is this about?”
His hands reached for her, gripped her shoulders and pulled her against him, she squeaked as she lost her breath, and he whispered words against her hair. “Remember our vows? Till death do us part?”
“What?” No. Her heart dropped and she struggled against his hold. “You jerk. Only headaches, you said. Now you’re dying?”
Breaking free, she swung wild, hitting him on the shoulder.
“Whoa.”
He locked her in his grasp as fury slashed through her. “No. You don’t get to leave me. No dying. No. And no more work. That’s it. I’m done. You’re going to get better before we do anything else.”
His grip tightened on her.
She'd had enough, enough of holding it all in, of expecting more, needing more and not getting it. “Let go of me so I can fight you.”
“I'm not going to fight you,” he retorted, crisscrossing his legs over hers and pinning her against the wall.
It was like he'd stolen any time they had left. Why was he doing this now?
She twisted and yanked her wrist free of his grasp. “Of course you won’t fight me. You don't care enough to fight me. You want to push me away, set me aside. Make sure I’m fucking safe.”
“Don’t―”
“I don’t want to be safe or tucked away or left in the world without you—”
“Stacy.” He spoke sharply, took her face in his hands.
What was she doing? She was going crazy. She didn’t want to argue with him. She didn’t want to hear anything from him right now…not about losing his sight or losing his job. Nothing.
She broke through his hold, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
Just kissed the hell out of him, tongue and all, and he stilled for a mere moment before he stepped up to her challenge, lifted her into the circle of his arms, and pressed her against the wall with the weight of his torso. She groaned. He trailed kisses over her face then back to her lips, where he lingered, nibbling and nipping—making her crazier. Her hands found purchase at his shoulders. God, she loved this man’s body.
He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers. “I’m not dying.”
“I don’t care if you’re dying or not. I need you inside me right now. Everything else, we can work out later.”
That did it. He shut up, put an arm under her rear so she could wrap her legs around his waist, and then took her into the bathroom. She unwound her legs from his body and began undressing him. The belt at his waist and buttons on his shirt, she was a mad woman, refusing to think.
He made her stop, made her focus on him. “What?” she said, frowning—her hands still on his shirt—as anger rushed through her.
“I got to thinking.”
“You’re thinking? Right now? I’m half naked in front of you, and you’re thinking?” She went back to working the zipper of his slacks until they fell down his legs.
He chuckled and then took her arms in his very strong hands. “See, I was thinking about that break you wanted.”
She opened her mouth to argue. Did he not hear anything she said? “Not from us!”
“From work,” he reassured her. “Remember that time you took my truck while I was sleeping? You needed to run to the store and had forgotten to put gas in your car.”
Her heart raced as she took a step back.
“So,” she said slowly. “Of course I remember.”
She hadn't learned to drive a standard back then, and she'd burned up the gears in his truck. He'd been pissed, beyond a doubt, cursing and ax-swinging mad. He really had disappeared for the rest of the day only to return that night with a tractor full of deadwood, chopped for the furnace. And a smile.
“I―” His voice broke; her heart melted. “I figure you owe me.”
Then she was in his arms, buried against his chest as his hands found their place in her hair. She could hear the rapid beat of a waiting heart.
“I'll pay you back. I promise,” she whispered against his neck. “Don't make it easy on me. Please. Don't ever be nice enough to let me go.”
His hands traced her eyebrows, her cheekbones, her jawline. At her mouth, his caress gentled, and his lips took over. Every inch of her skin was on fire. His exploration was more than desire. The way he hummed as his hands moved over her, as if he was learning. “I know you in the dark, too.”
“Yes. You do.” She shivered when his hands rode down her ribcage, cupped her hips then back up again. His hand slid across her collarbone and over her breast and circle her nipple.
“Hawk―”
He palmed her and squeezed gently.
He bent his head to her breast, taking and sucking her into his eager, hot mouth. She hummed, the heat of desire that flamed inside of her burning like a hot ember, just ready to explode.
She breathed his name and kissed the top of his head as heat singed her core. He slid his arms under her rear and lifted her. Squeezing her thighs, she tightened her hold around his waist. Tasting him was like coming home and she savored, sliding her tongue against the smooth inner flesh of his cheek, loving the brush of his teeth with each swipe.
Without letting her go, he stepped out of his pants and walked out of his shoes. He reached out behind her and the water in the shower turned on, striking her bare rear. She screeched. “Cold!”
He stepped into the walk-in shower, and she stiffened against him. “Don’t, don’t, don’t.”
He gave her an evil grin when the water cascaded down her back. “Sorry.”
She gently bit his shoulder and he pressed her up against the cold tile wall. Her back arched and she wiggled against him. He used her, taking that thrusted nipple into his mouth. Completely making her forget the cold.
The weight of him unfastened that carnal longing only he could free. He found her mouth and took the kiss deeper, reminding her of what little control she had when he needed her, when she needed him.
Skin on skin while steam from the warming water covered them, he slid into her. Every thrust was another hammer to that wall between them, and the slick length of him against her clitoris had her breath coming in short, her legs tightening around him.
He palmed her rear, and she braced her weight on the wall behind her, in order to relieve the load he carried. “Shit,” she hissed as she slipped a little.
As if he knew every move, he held her with one hand and then touched her with the other…and she exploded in the sudden orgasm, every muscle strung tight, every thought scattered. She rested her head against the tile and breathed, as if she might never do it again after this moment.
And then he eased her down and off of him.
Stacy protested, and he turned her under the water and began a slow bathing. With soap in his hands, he rubbed over her shoulders, down her back, to her hips and more. “Oh, okay.”
Hawk pulled her against him and continued to soap her front, testing her nipples with his palms. His hand moved lower and brushed against her. She turned to him, took the showerhead down, and sprayed them both before shutting off the water. “Come on,” she said, lifting a brow.
He grabbed a towel, not even caring that his shower could only be considered half-ass at best. When she said come on in that way, he came on.
She took his hand and led him to their bed.
Stacy crawled backwards and the bed sank when he knelt over her and braced himself on his fists.
“Nath―” she whispered.
“Shh.” He quieted her with a hand over her mouth then leaned back onto his heels.
She reached up and brushed her fingertips over chest and the tatt on his side. She sighed, trailing her hand down, down.
“Don’t go all soft on me now, babe.” Hawk’s hands circled her thighs, gripped her, and drew himself up between her legs. She grinned and he bent over to kiss her, restarting the fire her orgasm has doused. “Not tonight. Tonight, I make love to you…” His hands moved to grab her rear, and whispered into her mouth, “…and take you so hard, you’ll remember what it was like that night on our river.”
“Oh.” Her mind was thrust back to that time, to heat—so hot, even the water could barely cool them down. The moonless night as they snuck down to the stream, which ran through their property, and the curve of the riverbank that created a natural pool at the base of the rocky hill.
His hands had found purchase at her waist, dragging her against the current until she was flush against the rock at her back. And then he’d taken her.
He had that look in his eye now—predatory and hungry. So hungry for her.
She rose up on her elbows then levered up to her hands and pressed herself up against his rock, solid torso. “I’ll not be soft and complacent tonight.”
When he grinned and a spark flared in his eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezed her thighs at his middle, and pushed him onto his back with a laugh.
No. He wouldn’t have to take her tonight.
Tonight was hers.
***
“It was a mistake.” His voice rumbled against the quiet of the bedroom in the early hours of the morning.
“Making love is hardly what I would call a mistake.” Stacy stirred beneath him, her hand moving up off his ass to rest at the small of his back.
Hawk felt a stir of desire and took advantage of her captivity to suck at that soft spot just below her ear. “No. That's not what I meant. I meant keeping stuff from you.” He shrugged, embarrassed. “Telling you has made everything…better.”
“Can you see me now?”
“Enough,” he admitted.
“Why did you keep it a secret?”
“I wanted to protect you.”
“Me?” She kissed his shoulder, leaving a little bite mark in his flesh.
Hawk rolled, so she was on top. Her arms automatically folded over his chest so she could rest her chin there. She blinked slowly then rested her eyes shut with a sigh as he cupped and gently squeezed her rear.
“You were protecting yourself,” she finally said.
“Maybe.”
She snorted, her relaxed, lazy smile making the muscles of his stomach tighten.
“Shit. You’re so beautiful.”
His words caused a blush to rise to her face, and she turned her head and laid it against his heart. He tangled his fingers into her hair and brushed them through it.
He’d been so wrong to think he had to let her go, to think she couldn’t help. “I―” Hawk blew out a breath. “I’m afraid to let you back in. I can’t lose you like Cortez lost his wife.”
“She was an innocent, untrained, and in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That doesn’t make it better—”
“I know.” When she opened her eyes, they were clear, a direct hit to his conscience. “We’re in the same boat, Hawk. I love watching you work. I love being at your side. If we’re going to be in the cross hairs, let’s be there together. Even with your head injury. Next time, we see Dr. Carrig together. Don’t leave me out.”
There was no less love there than had been there a year ago when he’d been ignorant to the blindness. No less love than two months ago when the headaches had transformed him into the moody bastard he’d become. “What if it’s irreversible? What if I just stay like this, vision blown at random moments—”
“I didn’t know it was reversible,” she answered quietly.
“There’s a surgery to remove the scar tissue.” Lying back, he rested his arm across his forehead. “It might be too deep to take out.”
“Is there cancer?”
“The doctor doesn’t think so. Biopsies will be done...when, if I have the surgery.” Tension strummed along his shoulders, yet when her fingers gently traced the scar behind his ear, he relaxed. “Remember how my vision was impaired in those first few months after the bombing?”
She nodded, and he felt the press of her lips on his collarbone, before she sat up next to him. He liked her in the nude and reached for her breast, glad when her hand came up to keep his there.
“When did it start?”
“Eight months ago, I saw Dr. Carrig for a routine check-up. Out of the blue, he wanted to do a scan. Make sure everything looked okay.”
Stacy crossed her legs, the frown on her face deepening. “Not so out of the blue, if you think about it. The doctors told us that even after everything seemed back to normal, it would be important to watch for changes in your behavior.”
He wanted to run his fingers along the length of her tanned thigh. Normal behavior.
“I should have noticed. I did notice.” Her words sent a shaft of guilt straight to his gut. “I didn't even think about your head injury. But your moods in the last several months―”
He did touch her leg then, needing the distraction. “I'm not moody.”
She laughed with a shrug. “Okay, not moody. Quiet, more easily irritated.”
She stole a kiss as his fingers traced the edge of her soft curls. Her moan of desire tightened the need in his heart, and he wanted her again, slow this time with the openness they'd learned in years of loving.
So many delectable places to love. Sitting up, he started at her jaw, smelled the lingering hint of her lotion, and loved his way down her neck. She tilted her head, giving him access.
He took a deep breath and whispered against her skin, “I love you.”
She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back then she laid a soft, warm hand on his cheek. “It was easy to let things go after a while. Why?”
“I don’t know. Life? Kids? Work?” Hawk lifted her and settled her on his throbbing erection. She moaned, the hum of it reaching his core. “We won’t let it happen again.”
Stacy swallowed with a nod and blinked at his request then took his mouth with sweet, soft, and warm lips. His heart raced, and he made love to her again, with a quiet reverence that built a climax in him stronger than he'd experienced in a long time.