A strangled cry erupts from her trembling lips as her body grows taut, straining over me for a long moment. And then she breaks, crying out. Her orgasm floods over my dick but I keep going, keep stroking against her, seeing her through violent lashes that leave her trembling and clinging to my neck.
"Oh, God, yes." I press the words into the sweet spot behind her ear, dragging in vanilla and the scent of her sweat. Surrounded by Piper, the woman who broke down my walls and sang her way into my heart, I grind my eyes closed and I come. I come so goddamn hard every muscle in my body tightens and the heat of my load spurts up onto my chest and hers, searing into my flesh and marking her as mine.
Holy shit. I can't even think with this woman, this damn woman. Good God. I lost control. I lost control, and I wasn't even inside of her. What in the fuck is going to happen when I'm buried balls' deep in her pussy? I'll need a brain transplant to recover.
I return to reality when her tongue traces the lines of the tattoos covering my chest. Just the tip follows the words to my heart, and then she flicks over a wet spot, tasting my seed. I grab her hair and haul her face up to catch her eyes sparkling from mischief in the overhead light. She smiles. She smiles that damn smile that tightens my chest, and I can't breathe.
"I like the taste of you, Caden Lawless."
I kiss her. I drown in her. I take from her and I see light and something new. And when she wiggles on me, I stand with her in my arms and walk us to the Jack-and-Jill bathroom that connects her room to JT's and flick on the shower with a hand that's loathe to leave her. Barely breaking contact, I strip her from her soiled tank. We find ourselves shivering under the cold water, but hot for each other and free of anything but us. I want to take my time, make sure the inhibitions she shed earlier don't return, wash away the hurt from her past and impress upon her that she is important. She's not forgotten. That her parents may be dicks, but I'm a reformed asshole. I'll take care of her, or help her take care of herself.
But then the baby cries, a hard wail broadcast louder by the monitor sitting on Piper's nightstand. He has our attention. I press my thumb to her bottom lip and kiss her furrowed brow. "I'll get him. Stay here."
JT is only a few feet away. I step in, naked and dripping all over the rug. Gus shows up at the same time. Not surprising, since he thinks the kid is his. I scratch his neck as we make our way over to the squirming baby together. JT's angry little face bunches up as he lets us know how pissed off he is. A quick pat down confirms his anger stems from a large wet spot soaking his jams.
"You'd sleep much better if you didn't pee all over yourself, big guy." He screams louder as if outraged I would question his tactics for attention. "We'll talk about it in the morning. Come on. Let's go see Momma and get you clean."
I strip him down and bend to show Gus he's fine, stopping the dog's tortured whining. Then I slip back into the shower with Piper. Tension eases around her eyes when she sees us, and she sighs as I press JT to her chest. I hold him there, even while her hands get a good grip to make sure he doesn't slip. I watch her. I watch her soothe him, rub his back, coo words in his ear, and offer him her breast when he roots for it. She looks up at me and smiles. She smiles that fucking smile that tightens my chest, and I can't breathe.
God damn. My heart lurches.
Pressing a forearm against the wall, I hang my head and let the water soothe my nerves. No one tells you this when they talk about falling in love. No one mentions gravity is useless, that your center shifts and pulls you in a new direction, that there's no room for selfishness or anything other than the one simple connection holding the complexity of all your strings together. No one tells you about the terrifying prospect it could all unravel or that you would do anything to ensure it doesn't. No one tells you falling in love is terrifying.
I am terrified.
THREE VEHICLES MOVE across Afghanistan. I'm in the third. Justin sits next to me. Number one is struck by an IED. My pulse skyrockets. Sulfur, diesel fuel, a plume of smoke. A second explosion. Thirteen casualties. Thirteen soldiers. Restore breathing, stop the bleeding, pack the wound, treat for shock. One, two, three to thirteen. Chaos. Shots fired. Pop, pop, pop, back and forth. Where the fuck is the UH-60?
"Where the fuck is the UH-60?" I scream at Axle. "Get it here."
He stands, maneuvering around fallen Marines from number one and the burning remnants of the vehicle to open communication with command.