Forsaken Duty (Red Team #9)(66)

She wrapped her hands around his wrists, smiling sadly as her gaze lowered to his lips. “I guess we begin over now.”

“I’d like that.” He grinned. “Damn, I’m as nervous as a kid.”

Her arms went around his neck. “Show me, Owen. Show me what your love feels like.”

He kissed her mouth, then stepped back and tore the Velcro straps of his Kevlar free and set it next to the wall. He took off his tan pullover and tossed it and his tee on the floor. Sitting on the bed, he untied his boots and kicked them off.

He put his pistol in the drawer of his nightstand and was about to drop his cargos but stopped, distracted by the sight of her undressing. He watched as she unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, pulling it from her waistband. Her hair was still short, but had grown out another inch since he first saw her. It was darker than the white blond it had been when they were kids, but its current color was much richer with its streaks of browns and light blonds.

He reached over and fingered a few locks. She looked up at him, then let her gaze roam freely over his chest. He wasn’t a hairy man—just had a little golden furring over his pecs. He wondered if that was to her liking. Not much he could do about it either way; he wasn’t about to suffer through what Val did in the name of manscaping.

He needn’t have worried. Her eyes darkened as she looked him over. He knew he’d changed in the decade they’d been apart. Bulked up quite a bit. Working out was his refuge. Then tears filled her eyes when her gaze hit the fading bruises that lingered from his time with Edwards.

“Owen. God.” Her cold hands touched his hot skin. His body contracted at the gentle contact. He didn’t stop her hands from touching his blotchy patches. It was like she was putting him back together. When she met his eyes again, he bent over and kissed her, long and deeply, wanting to distract her.

Her hands began to fuss at something near his crotch. He looked down to see her unfastening her jeans. She pushed them down her hips, revealing a pair of light pink panties. So goddamned feminine. Her legs were lean and soft. He pushed his cargos down, exposing his black boxer briefs and the hard-on they barely contained.

Her lips parted as she saw how ready he was for her. He stepped closer to her, studying her as he pushed her blouse off her shoulders. Gooseflesh rose across her skin as he helped her take off her tank top. Her bra matched her panties. Its silk cups held generous breasts. She was bigger there than he remembered. He smiled as he rubbed his hands over her upper arms.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, then took her hand and led her toward the bathroom.

He put a couple of towels on the warming rack, set some washcloths in the shower, then started the water to warm it up before they got in. He took out a box of condoms and removed one. When he looked up, he caught the sight of her in the big mirror over the sink. She was completely nude. His mouth went dry.

Turning, he pushed his boxer briefs off, then pulled her against his body, feeling her soft skin from his chest all the way down his thighs. Though slim, she was curvy in all the right places, the complete opposite of him. He kissed her as he held her close.

Steam was filling the bathroom. He opened the stall door and set the condom where he could reach it. After adjusting the temperature of the water, he let her get in first. Standing with her in the hot stream of water, he ran his hand down the side of her face, over her chin, down her neck, down her chest, ending at her navel. It was a shame her scars were all on the inside. They were harder to heal because they couldn’t be seen, and she was the only one who could feel them.

He moved his head into the stream of water, hiding his tears. He pulled her against his body, letting the water wash over both of them. Her arms were folded between their bodies at first. He held her until she slipped her arms under his to wrap them around his back. The roar of the water was loud in his ears. He felt her body shake as her tears came. He held her as she wept. Such quiet rage. She should scream and pound him. He kissed her temple, holding her until the storm broke.

“Addy, my Laidy, wash me. I’ll wash you. We’ll purge the pain.”

She pulled free. Taking up the soap, she lathered a cloth then began stroking it over him. “Your bruises hurt me.”

He nodded. “I know. It’s how I feel about your scars, the ones I know are there but I can’t see. I’ll give you my pain if you give me yours.”

“How will that help?”

He lifted his shoulders. “It’s how it works. We carry each other’s burdens. In time, they won’t wear so heavily on us.”

She sighed. Her hand went still. “He was never kind to me. Even his polite words sliced like knives.”

Owen nodded. The ugliness was coming out. He hoped that meant light was getting in. Her stories were going to randomly come out. He had to be man enough to listen to them. It was part of carrying her burdens. Each one she let out would be one fewer weighing her down.

He lifted her chin and kissed her lips. They were soft under his. Her hands ran down his chest to his abdomen, then lower still. She wrapped her fingers around his dick. He felt himself jump in her hands. He deepened their kiss as he reached for the packet and covered himself.

“Put your arms around me. Let me in, Laidy. Please.”

She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He caught her waist and lifted her so she could lock her legs over his hips. He moved to lean her against the wall of the shower, then slowly lowered her over his stiff cock. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him as he joined their bodies. The sensation was exquisite. With the hot water pounding down on his back, it was almost too much to feel. He began to move in her, slowly, gently, showing her with each stroke all the love and patience she’d never known.