Chapter Eight
Wydell poked a stick into the fire, watching the flames leap higher. The warmth was welcome after the temperatures had dropped at night, and the golden flames had been good company.
He’d told them about going into battle. Taking on missions nobody else would, about getting burned and about losing Matt.
Then he’d talked how disappointing it had been to come home to a ghost town. The burning in his chest hadn’t totally gone away, but it had eased some. Putting his frustrations and sorrows into words had helped more than he thought. It had been a good idea to come out here.
He still needed to voice one important problem in his life, though.
Anya.
After hiking for so many hours, he’d come to the realization that he was in love with her. How, he had no idea. She was the polar opposite of him. He’d been raised a rough country boy while she’d been pampered in the city. Her ideas about the world were far different from his, which was part of the reason why they butted heads so often.
However, that thumping organ in his chest didn’t seem to give a damn. He wanted her.
As he stirred the coals at the base of the fire, he strained to listen to the night sounds. He’d encountered one other boar and typically they’d be sleeping right now, but he couldn’t be too careful. There were also coyotes to worry about. Not so much about attacking him, but running off with the food in his backpack. And in these parts, he’d heard stories about mountain lions, especially near the caves. Those were a proper concern.
Glancing up at the place where the openings hidden in the rock were, he tried to make them out through the darkness. But he couldn’t see them at all in this light. In the morning, he’d go exploring again, just to see if he’d imagined some of the artifacts hidden within those cave walls. Time had stripped some of his memories and replaced them with others.
He heard a crunching noise, and went still. Listening.
Small pebbles rolling. Kicked by a boar hoof?
He put his hand over the weapon pressed against his spine and waited. A low grunt reached him on the air currents.
In a blink he was on his feet, his hand dangling from his hand at his sidearm. After another sound that could only be called feminine, he suspected some kids had come up here to have sex.
“Who’s there?” he called.
“It’s Anya.” The voice was closer than he’d guessed—and his heart fell to the toes of his boots, then rose right back up.
He stuck his sidearm back into his jeans and followed the notes of her voice. Fear and anger merged in his chest to create a cement brick. She’d risked herself coming up here after him? At night no less?
When he rounded a grouping of rocks and spotted her beautiful face, it punched the breath from him.
“Dammit, what are you doing here?”
She stared at him, and though he couldn’t make out her expression, her eyes glittered. With anger or tears? It had better be tears or he was going to lose his cool faster than one of those wild boars.
“I’m coming after you.” Her quiet words didn’t sound angry, and he pressed his lips into a straight line.
He stomped up to her. Wearing shorts, her skin was stippled with goosebumps. “Woman, do you have no sense at all? You should be wearing pants out here, and what the hell is on your back?”
“A backpack.”
The so-called backpack was the size of a handbag. “What’s in it? Makeup?”
“I come all the way up here to be with you and make sure you’re all right and you’re going to crack beauty queen jokes?” Hurt crossed her lovely features.
Reeling from her admission, he grabbed her. Dragging her against his chest, he buried his nose against her hair and breathed deep. She’d been walking a long time—he detected a salty, womanly tang and a hint of fear. She probably hadn’t realized she’d have to walk so far to find him. Hell, she was lucky she hadn’t gotten lost. It wasn’t like he’d left a trail of breadcrumbs to follow.
“I can’t believe you risked coming here. Do you have any idea what kind of things you could have encountered?”
“Rattlesnakes.”
His heart did a two-step and changed rhythm. “Did you see any?”
“A couple. Thankfully while it was still light. Do you…have any water? I ran out a while ago.”
“Jesus Christ.” He wrapped his hand around her arm and led her to his camp. There he rummaged through his pack until he located a thermos of water he’d filtered back at the last standing water he’d run across.
When he put the water into her hands, she tipped it up and took huge gulps that spoke of how badly she needed it. When she was finished, he said, “It’s more than dangerous to go without water. What were you thinking?”
“I had water with me, just not enough.”
“What if you hadn’t found me tonight?”
“I knew I would. I could smell your fire for the past hour, and the sun hasn’t been down that long.”
He felt his eyes bug. “You’ve been wandering around following the scent of my fire?”
“More or less. But I did know how to get here, you know. The caves are mapped, and I looked at the map before I left town. Oh, and I had my GPS.” She held up her phone.
“Well, at least you sort of prepared.” He met Anya’s wide eyes. God, she was beautiful. Hair wisps falling from a ponytail and with a smudge of dirt on the side of her nose. He put his hands on her—he couldn’t stop himself.
When she moved into his arms, he groaned and claimed her lips. Her plump mouth was still wet from drinking. She was sweet, pure woman.
Growling, he pulled her into his arms and sank to the ground with her on his lap, her round ass cradling the erection that had sprung the minute he’d set eyes on her. She curled into his chest and kissed him for long minutes as he wrapped his head around the fact that she was here. She’d come after him.
Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes. “Why, sweetheart?”
“You know why.” Her whisper did things to his heart—and libido.
Feeling the stirring, she wiggled in his lap until he pinned her in place.
“I want you, Wydell.” Her words sent him spinning.
“Not yet,” he forced between clenched teeth. “First we talk.”
She skimmed her palm down his cheek. “Do you want to hear that I came after you because I hated how we’d left things? And how it wasn’t like you to walk out on me like that?”
He dropped his head. “I’m sorry for that.”
“I’m worried about what’s going on in your head. I know you struggle and have no idea where to put all those feelings.”
That’s where she was wrong—partially. He knew how to categorize all his emotions, except those concerning her. She confused the hell outta him. But why should she? She was a gorgeous and good woman. Who cared if they weren’t raised similarly or didn’t share a passion for miniature housing?
All that mattered was she felt right in his lap. Perfect, actually.
He flexed his arms around her, bringing her close. She cuddled against him, giving a small shiver. “I have blankets in my bag,” he said.
“I’ll warm up in a minute. The fire feels good—and so do you.”
“How can I chide you about wearing shorts when you say things like that? You could have gotten lost, or worse. This might be Texas, but this time of year it gets cold fast. It doesn’t take much for a little thing like you to be in trouble.”
“Wydell?”
“Hmm.”
“Shut up and hold me.”
He smiled against her hair, feeling so peaceful now that he had her with him. After long minutes passed, he said, “I’m glad you came, Anya.”
“Really?” She looked up at him with a smile on the tip of her lips. He couldn’t resist taking her mouth again.
“Yes. I’m happy to share this with you.”
“What is this anyway?” She pulled away enough to search his gaze. “Some kind of soul-search?”
“Something like that.”
She disentangled herself from his hold and scooted to the ground beside him. Seated Indian-style, she folded her hands as if waiting for him to speak.
At first, he fought it. The words wouldn’t come as easy with her listening. Then he thought of how at ease he was with her, even when they were going at it. Maybe…
He opened his mouth and found the first words tumbling out, similar to what he’d said aloud earlier, but this time deeper meaning came from it because she was there to listen and accept.
As he spoke, she gripped his hand and hardly seemed to breathe or blink. Her total attention meant more to him than all the counselors in the world could give put together. She’d risked boars and snakes and dehydration to come for him.
When he finished, he looked into her eyes and smiled. Lighter, freer than he’d been since before his first tour of duty.
“How do you feel?” she asked quietly, stroking his knuckles with her thumb.
“Enlightened.”
She smiled, and the stars seemed to dim.
“There’s one more thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m madly in love with you, Anya.”
It took a moment for it all to register, and then a soft cry ripped from her throat. She hurled herself at Wydell, knocking him backward. His white teeth flashed as he grinned. He caught her around the waist and pressed her to his body.
She stared down into his eyes, breath hitching. Feeling as if she’d just been told to run a marathon but without a single reserve of energy left inside her. She felt boneless, stunned.
He loved her?
After telling her off and fighting about the houses incessantly?
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he asked.
Her mouth worked, no words coming to mind.
He nudged her jaw closed. And then he curled his hand around her nape and brought her down to his mouth. The first brushing of lips made her throat thick with sweetness and emotion.
As he probed the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue, the only thing left in her mind was a response to his confession.
“I’m in love with you too.”
A wild grin of joy broke over his beautiful face. Yanking her down, he kissed her into a breathless puddle. While skating her fingers over his broad shoulders down to his carved pecs and chiseled abs, she reveled in every flip of his tongue.
This hardworking man had given so much for his country and his community. And the truth was, when they weren’t snapping at each other, they made a good team. And if she wanted to persuade him to see things her way, she knew how to work the system now.
With this. She kissed his neck while unfastening his buttons. When the fabric hung open, she kissed, nibbled and sucked a path down to his abs. Brushing her lips over the ridges, hungry for more. Tasting her way downward. When she’d freed his cock, he sucked in a ragged breath.
Up the length of his body, she looked into his eyes a second before she parted her lips over his straining cock. The mushroomed tip eased past her lips, and they shared a groan. Her pulse hammered in her temples. He tasted so good—like body wash and pure Wydell.
Her breasts ached for his touch and her pussy throbbed. But this was his moment.
She sucked him into her throat, using her fingers around his base to envelop him completely. With a grunt, he pushed deeper into her mouth. She relaxed her jaws and took him as far as she could. The dark flavor of his pre-come hit her tongue, sending shocks of fresh need through her system as she groaned again.
“Fucking hell,” he ground out.
She smiled around his shaft and worked her tongue around the swollen edge, teasing the underside with short flicks. He raised his hips off the ground and nudged into the back of her throat. Reflexively, she swallowed.
He tangled his fingers in her hair. Holding her prisoner, but his touch was tender at the same time.
Watching his face, she worked his length in and out of her mouth. He growled more expletives that only raised her desire to a higher heat level.
“Enough.” He sounded as though he’d swallowed a flaming sword. “You’re killing me with that hot little mouth.”
Loving the taste of him, she continued licking down his straining shaft to his balls.
“Oh Jesus.” His muscles shook. She took one in her mouth gently, but that lasted all of a blink because he ripped her off him and flipped her onto her back. She didn’t feel any impact in the cradle of his arms. “Get outta those clothes,” he commanded, battling the knots of his combat boots.
She was naked before he was, stretched on his abandoned shirt and a few other articles of clothing. His eyes seemed to darken as he hovered over her body, his cock poised at the quick of her.
Juices ran down her inner thigh.
“Spread your legs wide for me, sweetheart. Feel who’s taking you.” He plunged into her in one fast shove. A cry left her and her body squeezed around the invasion. Before she had time to adjust to him, he was withdrawing once more. Inch by slow inch.
She shuddered. “Wydell!”
“Say it again. Tell me how you feel.” He slid back into her—deep.
“Love you. I love you.”
“Fuck, I love you too.” He claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. She drifted in the pleasure that Wydell gave her. The glow of the fire on his muscles turned him into a bronzed god. Even the twisted, burned part of his body was something beautiful to behold—a mark of valor and resilience.
He cupped her ass and jerked her up to meet his thrusts. The tip of his cock struck something deep, triggering an orgasm.
Waves of ecstasy washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on his rhythm, more out of tempo with each move he made. Popping her eyes open, she stared at him as he made the leap with her.
Spurts struck her inner walls, shooting her higher. She clung to him as their combined noises masked the sounds of the night.
When the last earthquakes had stilled, Anya threaded her fingers into Wydell’s hair and drew him down on her. His weight pressed her into the ground a little uncomfortably, but she didn’t care. She wanted to remember this moment for the rest of her life. Just a warm fire, the stars and them.
After several minutes, she shifted to ease the ache in her spine.
“Ground too hard?” he asked, rising onto his elbows.
“I think there’s a rock under me.”
“You’re like the Princess and the Pea, feeling a tiny pebble.”
“I’m not a princess and this is more than a pebble.” She reached beneath her and pulled out a long, flat rock.
Wydell’s eyes danced with amusement even as he caressed her back to soothe her discomfort. “I know you’re not really a princess. You just deserve to be treated like one.”
“Uh-oh. I detect something in your tone.”
Arching a brow, he said, “Like what?”
“You tell me. We’ve confessed the ultimate thing. The big L word. You can’t keep anything from me now. It’s some kind of rule, I think.”
He chuckled but his face didn’t reflect it. He pushed back on his knees and stared down at her as if she were a tasty treat and he a starving man. She moved to close her knees, but he stilled her with a broad hand on each thigh.
“Stay this way. I want to look at you with my come flowing out of you.”
Her breath hitched at his dirty request. While he looked at her pussy, his eyes hooded. In moments his cock was stone-hard again.
“I want you inside me, Wydell. Don’t leave me waiting all night.”
With a growl, he joined them in one hard plunge. She locked her arms around his neck as he stole her mind for a second time. Overhead, the moon and stars witnessed their act of love. She’d never want it any other way.
Later, when he was lying beside her and his breathing deep and even, she figured it was time to dig into his psyche a little more.
“Babe?” She traced the line of the burn that barely edged his pec.
“Hmm.” He cupped her backside in one rough hand.
“I’m thinking about something you said earlier.”
“That I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk home?” he asked in an amused tone. “Don’t worry, I’ll carry you back.”
She giggled and caressed his side. “No, something else. You don’t believe you’re the person to treat me right, do you?”
He held his breath for a long heartbeat before releasing a sigh. “You know everything about me now, Anya. Doesn’t that scare you?”
“No.” When she shook her head, her hair trailed over his tanned skin. “It would scare me more to be in love with you and not know everything.”
“What if I can’t get through all this? The flashbacks and the need to run away?”
“You’ll always run back, though, won’t you? We’ll figure it out. I’m here for you.”
He looked into her eyes. “I must admit, I deal better when you’re with me.”
“Good. Lean on me. That’s what people who love each other do.” Her voice came more slowly as fatigue crept over her.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, sweetheart. I’ve gotta bank the fire to keep the coyotes away and you don’t want to sleep on the ground like this. Sit up—I’ll make you a bed.”
She did. As she watched him lay out several blankets and pitch a canvas tent near the fire to trap the heat and keep them warmer, her heart skipped two beats—one for her own happiness and one for the spark of life she saw in the eyes of her very own hero.