Promise to Protect: Military Second Chance Romance Page 9

  His hands slide into my wet hair as he kisses me back. His lips taste a bit salty from his sweat, and they move as if they're speaking a secret language only the two of us know. I say them right back to him, silent except for small noises that ripple in my throat.

  His hand moves down my neck, leaving a trail of rain behind it. It feels like my skin could turn the rain into vapor, but I want everything to stay like it is. I want to cling to these sensations until they're woven into my mind.

  I close my eyes, feeling myself falling backward as Shane lies over me. We had laid the blankets from my book bag underneath us and with the combination of the raincoats and the fire, they've mostly remained dry. It's not perfect, but it's paradise as Shane's hand slides underneath my shirt.

  It's transformative. He brings my shirt up slowly, leaving a kiss and an occasional nibble every time he inches it up. The rustle of the leaves and the rivers gives this sense of constant movement and power that's unequivocal to anything except our two bodies, saturated in each other, and the craving so strong that I'm confident I can survive on his hands and lips pressed against my skin.

  And yet, I want more.

  When he removes my shirt, I strip off my bra without hesitation. He looks at me like I'm his rescuer— his salvation after years of being lost in a wilderness he's been enduring. I know the feeling.

  When he rises up, his cock brushes up against my thigh. I grip the blanket to stop myself from reaching for his pants. He strips off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. He lies back on top of me, his hips grinding against my pussy. My hands slide against his back, his muscles sliding under my fingertips as he kisses me with so much pressure, it almost feels like resuscitation.

  "I love you," he murmurs near my ear. I don't have time to respond before he kisses me on the mouth. His hand moves to my breast. My back arches, stimuli that I hadn't known existed emerging in me, crashing over me with their intensity. I intend to tell him I love him back, but he's rolling down my pants— wet and slick against my legs— and words abandon me. Even our secret language becomes foreign to me, and the only thing that's native to me is his touch.

  I slide down my underwear. His hand lies over my navel before sliding down between my thighs. He keeps his palm lingering over my clit before stroking the inside of my left thigh. It's a tease, but I couldn't imagine him doing anything more perfect.

  He lies over me again. I rub against him, desperate for him to give me all of himself. I fumble with the button of his jeans. His hands move over mine, helping me to unbutton them before they return to my hair, kissing me senseless. I unzip his jeans and try to use the friction of our legs to pull them down. It doesn't work, but the collision of our bodies is emphasizing my need to be closer to him. This is why sex includes his body being inside mine— because it's the only way he'll ever be close enough to feed my body's demands.

  As Shane pulls off his jeans, my heart is beating so hard in my chest, I could imagine it shattering and flooding my bloodstream until all I felt was love. It feels that way already, with every shard of my heart beating and every part of my body pulsing at the same rhythm.

  His thumbs hook under his boxer briefs, but he stops moving, looking right at me. There's a flicker of uncertainty in me before he jerks his boxer briefs down and dives down on top of me. He kisses me hard enough on the throat that it takes my breath away as his arm pulls up my left thigh. His cock lingers at my entrance for less than a second before he lunges inside me.

  There's a spiral of pain from the sudden intrusion, but as soon as he starts thrusting inside me— his arm keeping my thigh up— the pain evolves into reckless pleasure. It's different from last time— maybe he hadn't wanted to shock me for my first time, but now he's thrusting inside me without any patience. My nails cut into his back to stop myself from moving too much, but our bodies seem magnetized to each other, so no matter how hard he thrusts inside me, I find myself sliding back toward him.

  Our breathing replicates the sound of the river. I try to turn every one of my movements into a way to tell him I love him— the way I look at him, the way I stay close, the way I try to stop myself from clawing his back to shreds— but this isn't a normal, ordinary love. This is exploding hearts. This is love and war in all its unfairness.

  Just as I'm feeling tender from the harshness of his movements, he slows down, grinding close to me and pressing a kiss above my right breast. I kiss him back, my hands on his face and my thumb stroking the scar that cuts across his jaw. A flood could come through here right now and I'd be perfectly happy with it washing us away. I know nothing could take me away from him.

  There's a creaking sound. Before I can look up, raindrops fall down on us and I can hear one of the raincoats flutter to the ground. The raindrops splash down, partly hitting Shane in the back of the head and a few hit my cheek. He smiles at me before kissing them off my face.

  I take in a small breath as he starts thrusting in me again. His movements are just as furious as before, but not as urgent. For the first time, it occurs to me how much smaller I am than him. He could easily crush me, grind me into dust right here, but he's kept enough restraint not to hurt me. From the way he's thrusting into me, I imagine it's taken all his restraint to keep his intensity at this level.

  I widen my legs more, allowing more of him to fit between my legs. He moves his arm away from my thigh and slips it under my waist pulling me up and forcing me to lift my hips as high as they can go. His thrusts change into short bursts, barraging my clit with enough pressure that I know I won't last much longer.

  I'd heard other women talk about orgasms, but as my second one hits me, it's like nothing anyone has ever spoken about. It's a grenade of glory. It's the river drenching me in holiness. It's an earthquake. It's the only real physical pleasure ambushing me, breaching all of my mental defenses, infiltrating every bad feeling and wiping them from the earth. It's the only decisive victory, where the only casualty is hopelessness and despair.

  My whole body is shaking, my pussy massaging his cock until I feel him buried inside me and the heat of his pleasure fills me, nearly sending me into another victorious surge.

  We stay still for several seconds before he pulls out of me. He collapses onto our blankets, pulling me down on top of him. Our legs slide between each other. We kiss, our bodies feeding off each other. I lie my head down on his chest, listening to his heart thrum.

  His hand caresses my spine before resting on the small of my back. We're a tangle of limbs and two hearts, beating in the center of the woods. I close my eyes. We've planted something, and I am certain it will grow taller than anything else here. I'm certain it will survive.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shane

  "Holy Hell," Emma mutters. I stay a step ahead of her, surveying our surroundings for any impending danger, but it takes me a second to realize she's looking much farther in front of us, where the runoff of the river has eroded part of the woods, creating an eery image of exposed tree roots and the earth appears streaked from the water flowing back into the river. "Do you think the main camp is fine?"

  "It should be far enough away from the river," I say. We're across from the runoff. The scent of fresh mud lingers in the air. Emma wraps her arm around mine. Her touch is enough to send my body into a frenzy. That's something I need to get under control if I ever want to be productive again.

  "Hey! They're here! I found them!"

  I turn. Slightly west of us, I see Brian sprinting toward us, his hiking backpack slamming against his back with every step. Hannah is close behind him. They're both smiling like they're about to cross the finish line of a marathon. Brian reaches me first, embracing me. I don't think we've ever hugged before. It doesn't much matter since Hannah nearly shoves him out of the way to hug me. Brian doesn't seem offended by it. He's bouncing on his heels.

  "Christ, we weren't sure if you guys had made it," he says, pulling off his backpack. "Not to doubt your survival skills, but that was a nasty storm."


  He pulls out a couple of blankets. He hands Emma one and I take the other one. The exertion of walking through the woods for the last hour has made the blankets unnecessary, but Emma and I both drape the blankets over our shoulders.

  "Have you two been looking for us all morning?" I ask.

  "Yeah. We actually camped out where you left us, waiting to see if you'd return and when you'd didn't around five this morning, we decided to go out looking for you. And not just us," Brian says. "It's everybody."

  "All the groups?" I ask.

  "Not just them either." Brian looks over at Hannah, who shrugs, a rather sly smile on her face. "Hannah may have spun a compelling story about how Emma went valiantly into the darkest, scariest part of the woods to search for her and that you, Shane, went out looking for Emma, the love of your life, willing to risk your life to save her."

  "It sounds pretty damn accurate to me," Hannah says. "But that chef and that rich lady were both moved by the story, and they called various resources they had. Matt called all your co-workers."

  "What about your boyfriend?" I ask. "Did he help too?"

  "No," she says, her voice sharp enough that I decide not to pursue that line of questioning.

  "It was really something," Brian says, looking at Hannah still. "I've never seen a woman influence so many people so quickly."

  "She's not going to help you with your scams," I say. He grins at me.

  "I wouldn't dream of using your sister like that."

  "I'm right here," Hannah says. "And I'd use you in a heartbeat."

  Brian places his hand over his heart like it might escape out of his chest, looking at her like he's shocked by her proclamation. I'm not a fan of this new dynamic between them.

  "Brian," I warn. His head snaps back around to look at me.

  "Yeah. Well, the good news is that I think with our charming power put together, Hannah and I managed to get Tina Pryce to think you're the next Batman. I'm pretty sure if you asked her for anything, she'd give it to you— a private jet for your life— saving missions, a mansion for you to plot how to beat villains, a butler named Alfred to give you encouraging words. You want it, you got it."

  "I don't need anything," I say.

  "But she might want to make a donation," Emma says. "To his foundation for veterans."

  "Foundation?" Brian asks. I glance back at her. Even through our night together, sleeping in the woods and the storm, she looks beautiful. She looks just as turbulent and volatile as she's acted in the last couple of weeks, but there's also something refined about her now. She has some authority over that turmoil now.

  "Yeah," I say. "I'll tell you about it when we get back home. If we don't get to a restaurant soon, I'm going to have to show you all how to set up a deadfall trap, so we can catch some mice."

  "Uh, no," Hannah says. Her gaze switches between Emma and me. "What happened between the two of you out here? It looked like you were ready to kill each other before, and now you look ready to…"

  She shakes her head.

  "Never mind. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

  She leads the way out of the woods. I grasp Emma's hand. She squeezes my hand and we move forward together.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emma

  I wish I could tell you that everything turns out okay. But sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes mistakes are made, and sometimes we miss signs that seemed so prominent in hindsight. But I can't tell you these things.

  However, I can tell you that you can rebuild your life after things go wrong. You can carry the weight, you can feel the sorrow grip you, and you can think about all those times you retreated when you should have launched forward. But then you have to take steps forward. You have to understand that once you're lost, it doesn't mean you're lost forever. You can find the way out, slowly marking where you've already been and leaving a trail so others can find you. What I've learned in the last few months is that it's difficult, but not impossible.

  I set my pencil down, closing my new journal. I stare out Shane's window, his new recliner feeling too big for me, but it is the tragic flaw of having a boyfriend that would fit in with any basketball team.

  It took a lot of bargaining, but Shane's house is finally furnished with a few photos, a couple of lamps, and a bookshelf.

  I stand up, walking outside. The grass is soaked from melted snow and it's still a bit chilly, but all around us, the neighborhood is buzzing with life. It's the last two days of finals, so every sorority and fraternity member is acting like they've been released from prison.

  Shane's truck drives up to the house. I fold my arms over my chest as Shane gets out, his body a little slimmer and faint shadows under his eyes. It's not sickness or grief. Dedication is a dominatrix. Since stories of Shane's bravery has awed the town and donations have flowed in, he's been devoted to the Chisom Foundation.

  "Hey." He swaggers over toward me. When we kiss, it feels like a renewal— reenergizing me, reaffirming our commitment to each other, and reviving the manic desire between us. "How was your final?"

  "I think I did well," I say. "I got a little stuck on brain mapping, but that's it."

  "Good," he says. "While you were out, I came back during my lunch break to make you something. I hope you didn't notice it yet."

  "Notice it? Is it something big?" I glance down at his groin and smile. He laughs, giving me another quick kiss.

  "Not that. Or at least not just that. Come back inside."

  I follow him into the house. He moves past the recliners and up the stairs toward our bedroom. I follow him inside, heat already rushing through my body. We just had sex this morning, but my addiction to him has gotten severe enough that I'd do anything to feel his calloused hands turning me into his sinner and disciple at the same time.

  He goes to his dresser and opens his pants drawer. He pulls out a small wooden box. On the top of it, there's a carving of a river that continues to flow over the edge of the box until it meets the latch, which resembles a silver fish. He holds it out to me.

  "I made this for you."

  Shane is impressive and exceptional in many ways— his body, his face, his skilled use of his body, his woodworking ability, his work ethic, his ability to swallow down stress caused by all the responsibilities he shoulders. I could go on and on, but gift-giving isn't one of his specialties. If I ever hint that I want something, he'll offer to buy it for me, but he isn't naturally inclined to buy anything just because he thinks I'll like it. It doesn't bother me, but this gesture feels out-of-character.

  "Did you do something you're repenting for?" I ask, taking the box from him. "I hope you didn't go off and beat up that bartender that winked at me."

  He grins, but his hands are tightly clasped together. Another nervous gesture he never exhibits. "No. I'm learning to deal with those kinds of things. When I'm dating a woman like you, I have to expect it."

  "It's a very beautiful box," I say, running my hands over the top. "Thank you."

  "You have to open it."

  My heart slams in my chest, but my hands are already opening the clasp. My brain hasn't quite caught up, and even when I swing open the box and see the ring, my mind remains confused.

  "This looks really expensive," I say. I look back at Shane. He's on one knee now. I swallow.

  "I know it's soon. Too soon," he says. "But I've spent so much time working on the Chisom Foundation, and there have been conversations about needing to travel to different parts of the country, so I wanted to show you that I am even more invested in our relationship than my veteran's foundation."

  "Shane, you don't need to prove anything to me."

  "I just need you to know that if you want to go to City Hall right now and get a marriage license, we can do that. If you want to throw a wedding tomorrow, I will drive all over to pick everybody up. I know this isn't coming across as the most romantic proposal, but I love you, Emma. I know I'm going to love you every day of my life, and I know nothing is ever going to change that. I
know I'm not going to find anyone better for me than you, and I wouldn't want to even if I could. I understand if you want to wait, but I have no doubts about this. When you're ready, I'm ready."

  There are ghosts that have haunted me since David's death. These ghosts have told me that everything I loved could be stolen away in an instant. I took that to mean that I shouldn't cling onto things— I should take simple risks and only enjoy short bursts of things because anything long-term could cause me to become attached. Becoming attached wasn't something I could afford. Commitment was just another way to promise heartbreak.

  But looking down at this man on one knee, giving away all his power and putting all his hope into me, and I know only one thing.

  I'd take the heartbreak with every beat of my heart because every millisecond between those heartbeats would make it worth it.

  I kneel down beside him, cupping his face in my hands, and kiss him. He kisses me back, soft and slow.

  "Yes," I murmur. "I'm ready. I love you, Shane."

  There are dangers to jumping into a freezing river. It would be so easy to die, so easy to lose a limb, so easy to get swept away by the current. Falling in love and being in love is similar in that way. The main difference is that you're not alone. You're never alone.

  The End.

  (Thank you for reading Promise to Protect.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. I’d love to hear what you think about it.)

  About the Author

  Kayley Cole is an emerging author of New Adult and College Romance. Writing great stories, listening to your ideas... creating characters you'll love.