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“Whatever you say, sir.” The “sir” was said with a hint of disgust that made me flinch as Cabot stood and briskly walked out of the room letting the door slam behind him.
Falling back to the bed and letting my head hit the pillow, I let out a loud, long exhale. “I fucking hate this assignment,” I mumbled into the empty room.
CHAPTER 15
LAKE
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Decker’s husky voice danced through the lust filled haze as I unclasped my bra and let it fall from my shoulders, down my arms, pooling in my lap as I straddled his hips, still grinding myself against him. The way his hard length ground into my clit in the most delicious way had me wishing we were both completely free of clothes. His hands roamed over my skin, leaving flames of passion in their wake. They moved up my stomach and cupped my breasts, squeezing and teasing as he pinched my nipples between his fingers, pulling a breathy moan from my lips as the touch sent a jolt straight to my center.
My fingers paid him the same attention as I explored the ridges of his muscular torso sprawled out for me on my bed. Each place my fingers traced goosebumps of pleasure seemed to sprout up against his skin, chasing my fingers in an attempt to bring them closer. “You feel so good,” I hummed as his hips drove up again, his hands encircling my waist to pull me down on him as well. “Too many clothes,” I gasped out at the sensation of his hard ridge pressing through his suit pants, rubbing against my soaked boyshorts. I needed him inside me, filling me with the same reverence the rest of him showed for me.
Decker sat up and with one arm snaking around my back to hold me close, his mouth fell to my breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth; he licked and sucked and nipped until I was moaning with the sensation overload his body was giving mine. As the moan escaped me, the man who had been so set on making me break with pleasure, suddenly stiffened in the worst way possible, his eyes returning to mine.
The lust was gone and in its place, apathy and slight disgust that had my stomach bottoming out. In an instant I was set down on the bed while Decker launched himself away, grabbing at the white dress shirt and tie that had been discarded when we’d started our exploration of each other. His gaze fell back on me, sitting naked from the waist up, and the world seemed to freeze painfully as he yanked his clothes on with harsh finality.
“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking,” he growled, no hint of lust in his tone that had been dripping with it only moments before. “This… you… none of it is worth fucking up my life over. I’m not letting you fuck up my world for whateverthisis.” He let his gaze trail over my body, no longer looking interested in the slightest. “You’re not worth it.”
I couldn’t speak. Hell, I couldn’t even breathe as he grabbed his coat near the door and stormed out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him to give me a tiny bit of modesty. He never looked back to see the tears streaming down my cheeks as I watched him go, unable to say anything at all. He was gone, and I knew I’d never been worth it. But I’d hoped.
A piercing noise broke through the sex dream turned nightmare, and I immediately covered my ears in defense and screamed out “What the fuck!” This seemed to be the passphrase because the sound of a bullhorn was no longer bouncing off my bedroom walls. The ringing in my ears was the only indication that something had shattered morning calm as a cheery light streamed through my curtains, filling the room with a soft peachy glow.
“If I were there, I would have been more gentle. Sorry.” The voice came from the camera perched on the wall, making me seethe and glare at the object that was useless besides its two way talk at this point. “I tried waking you up, but then you were huffing out some seriously sexy sounds and I didn’t want to mess with that, but you started sounding distressed and you were crying and weren’t hearing me… I had to go balls to the wall.”
I wanted to pretend like I was ready to rip the camera down and throw it out the window, but honestly, I was grateful for the horrific wake up call from Jack. My nipples still tingled with arousal at the ghost of his touch from my dream, but the wetness coating my cheeks was another ghost. One of devastation as he’d walked away from me.
I knew the nightmare theme was nothing new to me. Since the death of my mother, I had recurring nightmares of happiness shattered and those I loved walking away. It hadn’t been a choice to walk away for my mother, but it had been for Robert Harrington. He’d left scars deep in my soul, and whenever I found myself caring for another, the nightmares came. Reminding me that I was always one slip from losing anyone who mattered. Most of the time my dreams were variations of Scout walking away, never following a sexy encounter, obviously. They were never set scenarios. Sometimes I screwed up, sometimes Scout was trying to have me killed and ended up just walking away. Sometimes there was a knife plunged into my heart while Scout watched on without care before turning and walking away. The beginning could change, but the ending was always the same. And now I was dreaming about Decker.
Damn.
I’d barely gotten a small “Thank you,” out to Jack when my door flew back and three men entered the room, suited up and guns drawn.
“What the fuck was that?” Aiden demanded, a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.
“Reveille wasn’t working so I had to go full stop. Just a little morning ring ding ding for my favorite party girl.” Jack spoke so casually that Fitz and Aiden relaxed at once, holstering their weapons and grumbling about how annoying Jack was. Decker had holstered his gun as well, but his eyes stayed fixed on me.
“Out,” he said, breaking through the random argument about “dick behavior" that had fallen between the three other men.
Silence fell as Fitz and Aiden looked from him to me, first concerned then both seemed to shrug and tell Jack to meet them back in command for a rundown of his findings. The room fell silent as both men and the loudmouth from the speaker seemed to leave Decker and I without another word.
Feeling too exposed, I crossed my arms over my chest covered in an old thin tank, and looked at the blanket in an attempt to hide the tears that had escaped while I slept. I felt him approach silently, his energy filling up the space between us as he sat on the side of my bed. There were no words spoken and in the excruciating silence; I couldn’t help but lift my gaze to him to see why he was sitting inches from me so silently.
It was hard to push away the Decker in my nightmare. They looked the same, sounded the same, both held that heavy presence that demanded to be noticed. I knew he wasn’t the same man from my nightmare, but I was still flooded with lust and agony in equal measure. Even knowing the hands that had played my body expertly were not real, I could still feel the trails they’d marked across my skin, tingling and demanding to be remembered. Looking down again, I focused on the decorative stitching worked into the comforter I had piled on my lap
“I see you’ve been crying.” It was a stiff statement that sounded almost reprimanding that had my eyes snapping back up to him as his eyes squeezed shut. “That wasn’t how I meant it. I mean I can see that you’ve been crying and I could ask if you’re okay, but we both know you couldn’t possibly be in the midst of all of this. I feel like if I try and pick the thing that has you upset, you’ll only be reminded of it if itisn’t.”
I couldn’t help tilting my head and narrowing my eyes in confusion at his overly complicated statement. Decker took another breath and tried again.
“Do you want to talk about why you’ve been crying?” Well, that was a lot better than his first attempt.
“It was just a nightmare, and I guess I was crying in my sleep and sounded in distress. Jack decided a bullhorn would help motivate me to wake up.” I wanted to gloss over the embarrassing nightmare part and explain the noise, so we could just be done.
“Do you want to talk about the nightmare?” He sounded concerned. “Was it about the Pasternaks?”
And suddenly, the floodgate opened and feelings of guilt and shame washed over me. Guilt that they’d died for no other reason than their proximity to me and shame that even with them losing their lives, my brain had decided to give me a fucked up sex dream turned nightmare about Decker Mullins. Tears flooded my eyes and this time I let them burst out of me. Strength be damned. I’d finally broken and it didn’t matter that he was there to witness my undoing. Soft crying gave way to sobs that tore from my chest as Decker quickly repositioned himself and pulled me to him, arms closing warmly around me. He said nothing as I gave voice to my stress and grief. He didn’t need to say anything, there was something comforting in the silent strength he radiated. The way he held me, his hand stroking up and down my back gently; it was as if he was giving his strength to me with every touch and caress.
Slowly, my sobs became sniffles and I was finally able to collect myself enough to pull away and chuckled wetly at the twin pools of tears soaked into the white dress shirt he wore, the slight translucence of the wet fabric showing hints of ink across his chest. A detail that had not been part of my nightmare.
“Sorry I snotted all over you,” I said, my voice shaky with the remnants of my tears.
