She cupped his jaw. “I don’t see it that way.”
“Rose. Fuck, I’ve been waiting for a chance to tell you this for so long.”
She searched his eyes. “What is it?”
“That night in the garden…I was a dick to you. I just took you, loved you and left you. I never looked back. I never contacted you afterward. And it was your first time—I should have done that for you. Made things right for you.”
Her veins seized with ice. Now’s the time. Tell him.
The words froze in her throat. The secret had been kept so long that she didn’t know how to even give it voice. All she could hear were his words—he didn’t want a wife or a family. And as far as she knew, he never had either.
“Oz, that was a long time ago. I think it’s better to focus on what’s happening right now. Don’t you?”
He gave her a flat look, like a mask slid back into place so he wouldn’t reveal his true feelings. “Yes. If you recognized that man’s voice, then we know we’ve killed at least three of the men associated with your kidnapping. Is it possible that man you recognized could have assisted the others but not been one of the drivers?”
“Yes. I was too disoriented to keep track.”
He nodded. “Question is who sent them?”
“How do you know someone sent them?” Her body began to respond to being in his lap. Tingles started low in her belly.
“Because they’re just hired thugs. None of them displayed real training.”
She stared at him. “I’m assuming you know the difference.”
He gave a single nod. “My sources reveal that all those in association with your kidnapping and yesterday’s attack were hired mercenaries. Men who were given dishonorable discharge from the military.”
She sucked in a breath. “That adds another level to the crimes, doesn’t it? If Baynard really did accept money in return for weapons, and those terrorists he claimed held him at gunpoint to steal the cargo were also military officers waiting for a chance at a heist…”
“It definitely points that way, doesn’t it?” He leaned in and kissed her again before continuing on about a topic that had nothing to do with tender kisses. “Baynard is charged with weapons trafficking. Trafficking arms and humans are two of the fastest growing crimes in the world at the moment. It’s not farfetched to believe a Navy pilot, making what—eighty-five grand a year—would be enticed into a seven-figure pay jump. All he’d need is the right guy approaching him.”
She pushed out a sigh. “I’m defending him because I believe him innocent.”
He cocked a brow. “You still believe that?”
She bit into her lip. “I don’t know anymore. I didn’t get enough time to research.”
“I can help with that.” Instead of indicating how he could help, he traced lines up and down her spine. The soothing touch left her both boneless and burning in all the right places. No man had ever fueled the fires of her libido like this one.
“Will we be staying here for long?” Her question came out a bit breathy.
His stare intensified as he zeroed in on her mouth. “Long enough to gain some ground. I need to look in to some things before we move on.”
He didn’t pull his stare away from her lips. Did he know how bad she wanted him to kiss her? How these past two days, she only felt safe when in his arms?
“Oz…” she murmured.
“You drive me crazy, sweetheart.” When he brushed his lips over hers, the tenderness jolted her emotions into another plane. She didn’t know this side of Oz. Part of her seethed that she never got the chance to know it before now.
As he curled his fingers around her nape and drew her into the caress, her heart leaped. She parted her lips and touched her tongue to his. He groaned low in his throat. She answered with a whimper.
Then suddenly, he lifted her. She hovered in the air, with her lover’s strong arms supporting her. This time he claimed her mouth, none of the tenderness lingered—he crushed his lips down over hers. The heat spiraled between them, and she fed him her moans on her tongue as he walked her to a bedroom.
Upon first arrival, she’d glanced into the big master bedroom and spotted the inviting bed piled with pillows in shades of white and dusty blue denim. But being laid down upon them by a man who wore a look of sheer desire in his eyes proved to be a much bigger experience than just climbing into a soft, comfortable bed.
She hooked her arms around his neck and dragged him atop her. The weight of him pressing her down drove away the terror of earlier in the day and brought her back to the here and now.
For now, she had Oz back, and she’d take what she could get. After she returned to her life, she would cherish whatever memories the two of them made.
As though he felt the change in her that her thoughts drew to the surface, he paused in kissing her and lifted his head. “This wanting never went away,” he grated out.
Her breath caught. “For me either.”
He skimmed a hand down from her breast to her hip. Until he tugged her dress hem up and eased his fingertips over the damp crotch of her panties, she’d forgotten she still wore the stupid party dress.
She giggled, and he gave her a crooked smile of his own. “Ticklish?”
“No. I was thinking this was the absolute worst dress to tuck and roll out of a car in.”
“You’re a little dirty but still gorgeous.”
“Shut up and make love to me.” She wrapped her thighs around his hips and rocked her pussy into his bulging erection.
* * * * *
Make love. Her words simulated knife jabs, aimed at his heart. He’d only ever made love one other time in his whole life—to Rose in the garden. The experience shook him enough to know he had to walk away or risk shredding her heart into pieces.
This time, holding a part of himself back might prove to be impossible.
Why the fuck should I try? He’d spent a lifetime burying his feelings, pretending Rose hadn’t mattered that much, that she was only a one-night stand… Fuck, they were all lies.
The tenderness she responded with only gripped him by the heartstrings and boomeranged it back to him, leaving him aching for the same soft touches and softer words from her. He fucking hurt too—for far too long.
He hurt for all those people he hadn’t managed to save. Good men lost in Iraq. Friends lost to 9-11. Somehow he’d failed Lars, and he’d definitely fucked up with Gilly.
She cradled his face and searched his eyes. “You okay?” she whispered.
Hell, he wasn’t.
I have to be.
Dropping his forehead to her breasts, he breathed in her scent. Long minutes passed, and then he grew too aroused to hold back another moment.
He reared back and slammed his mouth over hers. She responded to the harsh, bruising kiss by nipping and biting at his lips. She raked her nails down his abs and ripped open his jeans. As she stroked his rigid length through his boxers, he issued a rough moan.
In a quick move, she pulled his cock free and aimed it toward her pussy.
“Your panties are in the way,” he rasped, shoving his own jeans down his hips.
She shimmied one leg free in one of those maneuvers only women could perform that left men scratching their heads. When she hooked her ankle behind his ass again, he didn’t need more encouragement—he sank balls-deep in her sweet, tight, wet pussy.