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Then I say the words. The words I need to say. The words I never thought I’d say again, and certainly not to a virtual stranger.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight, Buck. I don’t want to be alone.”
11
BUCK
The marks on Aspen aren’t anything I haven’t seen before. I remember some Syrian refugees in Afghanistan who had been raped, beaten, mutilated by Taliban insurgents.
Most of them looked worse than Aspen looks now.
But my God…
This poor woman… What she’s been through.
And in a way?
It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
I want to touch her. I want to trace my fingers over every scar on her body, show her how beautiful she still is.
After all, I’m not without scars myself.
But what she’s asking? I can’t give it to her.
She’s not asking for sex. She’s asking not to be alone. I know the difference. She’s not ready for sex. But if I let her lie with me, take her into my bed so she won’t be alone…
I’m not sure I can leave her alone.
Okay, that’s not true. I can control myself. I will be able to leave her alone.
But it will be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.
I’ve had to do a hell of a lot of difficult things in my life.
Not the least of which is bury four friends. Talk to their parents, their significant others.
Tell them how wonderful their sons, brothers, husbands were.
God, get over yourself, Buck.
Lying next to a beautiful woman and not touching her is not nearly as difficult as the things you’ve done in your life.
Just keep your fucking dick at bay for once. You can do it. You have to do it.
This woman needs you.
And you need to be there for her.
I walk toward her, take the T-shirt from her, and slide it over her head, help her poke her arms through the armholes. Then I lift her into my arms and carry her like a baby through the door leading to my room.
I lay her down on the bed and cover her. Then I walk to my minibar and grab another two bottles of water. I open them both and set one next to her on her nightstand. “When you’re thirsty. It’s right here.”
She murmurs a thank you and shuts her red and swollen eyes.
I hate sleeping in a shirt. I always feel like I can’t move, but the garment stays on, along with my workout shorts. I want Aspen comfortable.
I force myself to turn away from her, away from her scarred beauty, and away from her neediness.
But then…
Warmth envelops my back.
Aspen. Aspen is clinging to me.
Good God, give me strength.
“Aspen,” I growl. “Don’t.”
“Please. Something about you. Something about you gives me…peace.”
Peace? From me? I haven’t felt peace in… Hell, I can’t even remember.
But she needs me. And damn it, part of me—a very big part of me—needs her as well.
So I turn toward her, take her in my arms, and let her snuggle into my shoulder.
Already my groin is tightening, my dick is hard.
But I breathe in, out, in again. Keep myself in check. She smells like lavender—lavender and goodness and perfection.
All those scars on her beautiful body.
And still… Perfection.
I kiss the top of her head. Bury my nose in her fragrant short hair.
And then—
I groan.
Warm hands grip my cock.
“God, Aspen. Please. We can’t.”
“I need you. I have to go with that, Buck. I never thought I’d want this again. Not ever. Do you understand? Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
I understand more than she knows.
I’ve been there.
I know what happened to those women on that island. The Wolfes gave me all the information. I needed all the information to do my job.
I also know all the horror I saw and experienced while I was deployed.
It’s not all that different from what happened to Aspen.
Some of the things I never think about.
I’ve trained myself not to think about them. It’s too humiliating, too degrading.
And yeah, I know everything. It wasn’t my fault and all that bullshit. But wasn’t it? Maybe… Maybe I just wasn’t strong enough.
Maybe I took too many damned risks.
Too many damned risks when I should’ve been protecting my team. Protecting my friends.
And though I came home alive—strong and alive—there are things I could’ve prevented had I not taken stupid risks.
Rape. It doesn’t happen only to women.
And it’s no less dramatic.
Aspen needs a soft touch. A gentle touch. I’m not sure I have that in me.
But my God, her hand feels amazing around my cock. She’s a large woman, and she has large hands. Large and strong hands.
Right now she’s milking me like her life depends on it.
Knowing better, I reach toward her, touch her between her legs.
“Fuck, you’re wet.”
“I know,” she murmurs. “I can’t believe it either.”
“An hour ago you were shrieking. Scared for your life. How…?”
