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He tried the handle, and it gave, the door opening soundlessly. He recognized the gloves and hat from the arena, thrown onto the bed along with a cell phone.
“Helen?”
There was a soft, muffled sound, and his heart jammed up in his chest, then started to pound with a different rhythm. She was wedged into a corner, her frame nearly obscured by heavy shadows, her arms locked around her knees and her head down. He didn’t think she heard him. Something twisted even harder in his chest.
Crouching down in front of her, he brushed back her hair. “Hey, there?” he whispered, his tone uneven.
She went still, and he saw her wipe her face against the sleeves of her sweater. Then she drew a deep shuddering breath, and D-Day knew he couldn’t leave her all alone like that. He caught her by her upper arms, pulling her with him as he stood. Before he could utter another word, she clamped her arms around his neck and held on tight.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he whispered. Pressing her head to his shoulder, his hand tangling in her hair, he gathered her against him, the rush of sensation so intense, he had to grit his teeth. Fuck, even working all day she smelled damn good to him.
She moved, sending a shock wave of heat through him, and he tightened his hold on her, his heart hammering, his breathing constricted. Releasing a shaky sigh, he adjusted his hold on her, drawing her deeper into his embrace, his nerve endings stripped raw.
“It’s too much,” she murmured. “Just too much. Someone I know along with a whole medical team of doctors, nurses, and patients were killed,” she said in a rush, coming apart again as if there was so much pain inside her that she finally had to get it all out.
The thought of her sitting out here all alone, going through something like this all by herself, sobered him, and he was suddenly very grateful for his team.
He simply held her, the fullness in his chest expanding. She was so vulnerable, and he wanted to be careful with her, but he was so close to the edge that it wouldn’t take a whole lot to push him over. He didn’t think of the consequences when he got that close to her as he widened his stance a little, to keep them balanced, and she pressed against his hard ridge of flesh. Unwilling to let her go an inch in her grief, he turned his face against her neck and clenched his teeth.
She went still in his arms, then she made a low, desperate sound and twisted her head, her mouth suddenly hot and urgent against his. The bolt of pure raw sensation knocked the wind right out of him. It had been so long since he was with a woman, let alone one he was so lost in. D-Day shuddered and widened his mouth against hers, feeding on the desperation inside him, and all that need pouring out of her. He almost lost it completely, but the taste of her tears cut through his senses, and he dragged his mouth away from hers, his heart pounding hard.
This was about comfort. And it was dangerous. There was too much attraction between them. So easy to give in.
Trying to regain some control, he fought for every breath. This would be so good but wrong for so many reasons.
Inhaling raggedly, he nestled her head closer, turning his face against hers. “It’s okay, Helen. I’ve got you.”
An anguished sob strangled in her throat, and she clutched him. There was so much desperation in that one small sound, so much fire, it was like a knife to his chest. Her arms locked around him, she choked out his name, then she moved against him, silently pleading with him, pleading with her body—and any connection he had with reason shattered and dissolved.
He grabbed her hips, welding her to him, his face contorting from a surge of desire. God, he wanted her. His mouth reached her ear, and he was breathing hard and fast. “You’ll have to make this happen, Helen,” he whispered raggedly, as if she was something he’d never be able to have. Not in the way that mattered the most. “I can’t?—”
“Drew, please. Please don’t stop.” Helen made another low sound, then she inhaled raggedly and pulled herself up against his dick, her voice breaking on a low sob of relief.She moved against him again, and D-Day tightened his hold, unable to stop as he involuntarily responded.
Making incoherent sounds against his mouth, Helen twisted free, and a violent shudder coursed through D-Day when he felt her hands fumble with the snap, then the zipper, on his jeans. The instant she touched his hard, throbbing flesh, he groaned out her name and let go of her, desperate to rid them both of the barrier of clothing.
But she was already stripping off his jacket and the layers beneath, shoving down his jeans, then she stripped her clothes from her. Her breathing hitching, her eyes traveled over him, her hands running over his chest, stroking down to his taut abs, fluttering over his huge, rock-hard erection.
His entire body shuddered, and he cupped her full breast in his hand and lowered his head to take that tight nipple into his mouth. Her head went back and her back arched. She slipped her hand over his erection as he ravaged her nipple, groaning when she worked him over, tormenting him with the slide of her fisted hand around him. He gasped and made a growling sound as she skimmed her thumb up over the tip of his dick.
Jerking her hand away, he hauled her up against him. On the verge of release, he dragged her legs around him, backed her against the wall. Wedging his arm between her and the roughened wood, he clenched his eyes shut and thrust into her, unable to hold back one second longer. With a low, rumbling growl that hummed in his chest, he sank into her, withdrew, and surged back again, his strokes lengthening, his pumping gaining momentum. Gone were any attempts to hold back.
Helen sobbed out his name and locked her legs around him, her movements urging him on, and D-Day crushed her against him, white-hot desire rolling over him. Angling his arm across her back, he drove into her again and again. His thrusts grew urgent and demanding, and wholly primal. Friction, pressure, and heat fused together in a tangle of sensation, until his entire body focused on the connection of their bodies and the impatient, restless need swelling inside him.
A low guttural sound was torn from him, and his release came in a blinding rush that went on and on, so powerful he felt as if he was being turned inside out. He wanted to let it roll over him, to take him under, but he forced himself to keep moving in her, knowing she was on the very edge. She cried out and clutched at his back, then went rigid in his arms, and she finally convulsed around him, the gripping spasms wringing him dry.
5
For the next two weeks, D-Day found himself tangled up with Helen almost every night. They didn’t speak about anything regarding each other. That would have been counterproductive and futile. This was time out of time and they both knew it. Even as he felt he was betraying Buck’s trust and that of his family, he couldn’t seem to help himself. He’d never met anyone like Helen, and his heart tightened. He didn’t think he would ever again. It wasn’t just that the sex was so fucking good, but she meshed with him on an intuitive level. Which, if he was being honest, scared the crap out of him.
When he entered the kitchen, everyone was gone except Buck’s sixteen-year-old sister. “Where is everyone?” There was an open box of donuts on the counter, almost empty. It looked like it had been a hurried breakfast. He grabbed one and bit into it.
“All down to the arena, even Mom and Dad.” Daisy finished off her OJ and wiped her mouth. She slid off the bar stool and started for the back door.
“Including Buck?”
“Yep,” she called over her shoulder. She reached for her coat and shrugged into it, then set a cute knit hat on her head, one with a pompom on top, snuggling it over her ears.
He followed her munching on the donut. “Why is that?”
