The Promise of Love (22 page)

“A friend of mine found out, she showed me your bag, and I put two and two together once we got those two talking. She found out your last name,” he added with a frown at her. “And that you’re Canadian. I was on my way to you.”

She twisted her fingers together, unsure what to say. It was all so perfect. David was so big, and right there. All her worries, and all the nights of crying for him, and he’d been just as upset over her being gone as she had over missing him. It all seemed like a dream.

Was it this simple?

Her instincts said yes. She watched him waiting on her, and knew he wanted as much as she did. It was there, simmering in his worried blue eyes.

David cleared his throat and rubbed his face again. “Anyway, yeah, this place is a huge compound. The guy even had a hospital, swimming pool and track. We’re going to rooms he set up for later on in his operation. We’re safe. You don’t have to look so spooked.”

“It’s not the room I’m worried about, David! It’s you. You were hurt and I was…well, I was afraid you’d died, then I kinda got to thinking you’d just moved on,” she whispered past the tears.
If only I’d taken the phone. None of this would have happened
.

He winced at her. “I never break a promise, Paris. I told you that.”

“I know. And you were hurt.”

“I’m fine now. I got shot and fell down a small cliff. I just knocked my head a bit too hard.”

She nodded as if that made perfect sense. A tear slipped free, but she quickly brushed it aside. Another followed.

“Just a graze, but the bullet made surgery necessary,” he repeated. “That’s why I wasn’t there, why I didn’t find you.”

She tried to get herself under control. He was safe now, standing and right here, larger than life. She swallowed down the tears.

“Paris,” he said gently, “don’t cry, princess. I’m not sure what that means when you do that.” He tugged her hair, but he looked miserable even as he cradled her in his arms. “Talking would be good, too. You know, so I know what you’re thinking.”

“Fine, Mr. G.I. Joe,” she grumbled, but kissed his shoulder to soften the sting and hugged him tighter. They stood like that long enough for her to get her tears to slow down. “How bad is your leg?” she asked. “Should you go so fast on that crutch?”

He sounded as if he’d choked on a laugh, and when he pulled away she could see she’d surprised him. The way he scanned her face suddenly had her accepting everything. His disappearance, the long, lonely nights, the misery, all of it was worth it if he was back,
really
back.

“I’ve got to get surgery, but it’s a quick one, and I should be able to walk on my leg in a day, or two after.”

“What?” She was an athlete. She knew what an injury could do. David had to be hurt to have a crutch because he was a stubborn man, and no way would he use one for no reason. “You have to—”

“Paris,” David murmured, drawing the breath from her lungs with the heat in his eyes. “I missed you so damn much. I don’t want to talk.” He tugged her hair, just like he used to.

She melted. Every hurt, every tear she’d cried and miserable thought she’d had vanished.

“Oh, God, you’re good at making up, aren’t you?” she whispered and dragged him by his rough cut blond hair down to kiss him properly.

Right before she could, he smiled. “I don’t know, you tell me. This is a first,” he told her, then took her breath away with his kiss.

Their passion exploded all over again, reminding her of how it’d been, but this time with an urgency she knew he shared. All those nights, all those days without him, if she were honest, they disappeared. In their place was a need that roared through her. Not just for sex, but for the connection, the intimacy she felt sharing herself with this man—with David.

She pressed him back until she felt him sit. His crutch went down with a loud crash, but she was too busy getting his pants open to worry over it. He had his hands under her dress again, and the feel of him cupping her butt was so good she moaned against his lips.

“I like you in a dress, Paris.” He tightened his grip and squeezed then stroked up her spine and back down with the same urgency she experienced. His hot breath against her cheek thrilled her, even as their kiss grew wilder. As soon as she reached his stiff penis she moaned. It was so hard, all for her, she knew. He lifted her by the waist and settled her to straddle his lap.

“David,” she whispered, and stroked down him. He was hard, so very solid. She’d missed this, him, all of it. The passion tore through them and she sucked along his jaw, so eager for him she couldn’t get enough. David must have agreed because with a groan he took her hands in his and tugged them behind her back and pressed into her with a firm, long thrust. It was slightly rough, and she wasn’t ready, but she loved it, his urgency and him.

“Paris, Jesus, I need you,” he groaned and flexed under her. She was spread tightly around his erection now, and the sensation was so good, he slid in as her excitement grew. “Let me in, princess.”

It’d been so long without him that she hugged his head to her chest and pressed back, trying to take him deeper. His girth made it difficult, but after a few shallow passes he eased more and more of his erection deeper. She knew he wanted more. She could feel the tremble of his muscles against her as he held himself in check. Wetness flooded her at the realization, and at her own naughty thoughts.

“Fuck me, David, hard. Show me how much you missed me,” she urged, kissing her way to his lips and watching his blue eyes narrow in sexy slits.

“Paris,” he breathed, and wrapped his arms around her waist so she was forced tight against him. He kissed her breasts, sucking on her nipple when he found it, right through her dress. At the same time, he shoved his hips upward.

“Oh, God, yes.” She couldn’t say more.

It was a rush to climax for them both after. Her orgasm built until her thighs shivered and a moan of pleasure escaped. At the sound, David tilted her closer and started pumping aggressively—giving her such a hot rhythm that she shook from the slap of the impact. Within glorious seconds David called out her name. She felt him grow harder, bigger, then with a long groan, he climaxed with her. Out of breath, she held him tighter as he shook with the power of his own climax.

Long, lush moments later, he slowly eased back onto the soft cushions and sighed. He took her with him, caressing her back until he pressed his hand to her neck and kissed her, holding her there as he destroyed her with soft, languid strokes of his tongue, as if he was savoring her.

Another tingling began around his thick erection. It had been like this with David. She’d sometimes climaxed after he did, by feeling him there, still inside her where he stroked her so beautifully.

David massaged his hands down her back and, featherlight, brushed the tips of his fingers lower. Then he pressed delicately against her ass.

That was all it took. She fell like a house of cards. Her body tightened so hard on him, David grunted and drove in just a tiny bit deeper, which added to the rush and explosion of her orgasm. He continued to nudge her until she cried out softly and broke away to pant against his neck. She stayed like that, so lost she couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but hug him tightly and rock along his body, hoping beyond hope that this time he would keep his promise.

Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t ever, ever leave.

Chapter Thirteen

David watched Paris closely, unsure if she was pleased with their crazy sex in the lobby, or worried. She didn’t appear upset, but she was quietly washing her hands and face in the bathroom. The room he’d chosen could have been an apartment in the Grand Swiss Hotel or some such fancy resort. All he knew was that it was unused.

If Paris was upset, he wasn’t sure he could honestly say he was sorry—since he’d climaxed so hard he thought he’d experienced a double orgasm. He had before, but never so fast—well, he thought, watching her dry her face with a towel—he had that first time. And possibly when he’d shared her with Will back at Duke’s.

“Oh, that is so much better. I felt all caked in dirt,” she said and walked over, then surprised him by sitting down on his thigh and wrapping her arms around his neck. She smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Did I smell bad, you know,” she said with a blush and whispered, “when you were ravishing me in that lobby?”

He snorted and pulled her a bit closer. She kissed him again, seeming to want him close. Some of his anxiety disappeared at her affection.

“You never smell bad,” he said, adjusting her so she was more comfortable. He easily remembered those few days, and how she’d loved to sit on his lap, just like this, and talk about nothing more than silliness with him.

She examined his face this time, and tilted her head slowly with such intensity in her eyes he felt his face flush. That was her thing, but he worried about her scrutiny, and about what she was thinking.

“I hope there were no cameras out there,” she whispered finally, blushing.

“I do,” he said. “Then we can watch how hot we are.”

She ducked her head and tucked her cheek to his chest. “You better hope there weren’t,” she said. “I love the way you make me feel,” she added quietly. “But I don’t ever want anyone to see us again.”

It wasn’t she loved him, but it was damn close. That night he and Will had made love to her here, at the compound in the room with the two-way mirror rushed through his memory, and he hugged her tightly to his chest.

“Good.” He sounded rough. “I never want you in that kind of situation again either, Paris.” He swallowed and brushed her blonde hair off her cheek. He sucked at this part, talking about important stuff. Will was better at all of this—he’d seen the man coax a woman into forgiving him when Will had seriously been in the wrong. Will had simply smiled, said a few quiet words, and left with her minutes later. David had lost twenty bucks on the deal.

With Paris, he didn’t want her to feel as if he only wanted sex, and that’s the first thing he’d done—within minutes of being near her.

“I didn’t plan to start making up so quickly, but, princess, you make it hard.”

“I do?” Paris laughed and sat up to face him again. She surprised him by stroking down his chest right to where he was still sporting a semi hard-on for her.

Laughing at the catch, but not willing to be outdone, he pressed her hand down harder and bent to kiss the tight point of her nipple that he could see through her thin dress.

She giggled and tugged at his hair, squirming on his lap in a way that had him more than ready for another round. He let up on his prize and sucked his way up to her pink lips.

“Yeah, always, you should know that.”

“Always?” she teased, and batted his hand off hers with a sweet, curious expression. She was so damn innocent about so much, it gave him one hell of a thrill to show her that ‘dirty’ side to sex. He still couldn’t believe she’d used the f-word with him.

“Paris, there isn’t a second you’re with me I’m not thinking of having sex with you.”

“You are not!” she said with such indignation that he laughed even harder.

Hell, she was fun. And he now knew she wasn’t always so happy either. He’d seen the pictures Petrok had of her. She’d looked sad, and if he’d read the pictures right, lonely. She had always been happy with him—at least those few days, he reminded himself. He’d make her happy again. If he didn’t, she’d just have to tell him what he was doing wrong, so he could.

“Oh, yeah, I am. You should know that,” he warned her, tightening his arm around her.

“You said that was the Duke drug,” she whispered for some reason.

“Not on me, and we never took that junk. The other stuff just gave me headaches. This is all me, princess.” He flexed his hips so she could feel the full impact of the hard-on she was causing to fill out his BDUs. “Having you near me after you left me? I’m sporting an erection that’s going to need more than that quickie.”

“David!” she exclaimed softly, but giggled and covered her face. “I did not leave you, either, by the way. You left me.”

He knew he was embarrassing her, but he also sensed he pleased her. Maybe he wasn’t Will, but maybe Paris didn’t need him to be. Maybe he didn’t need to be a smooth-talker like his buddy. Maybe she simply needed him to be himself.

“I missed you, Paris.” He said it softly enough he thought she might not hear, but she lowered her hands from her face and reached out and tenderly caressed his jaw.

“David—”

He covered her pretty pink lips with a finger to still her. A man had to say some things, or chance losing everything, he thought, and took the bull by the horns.

Tell it to her straight
.

“It’s been hell, not knowing where you were, or what you thought. Worse, if you were a dream, or simply got what you wanted and left, to go back to your life.”

His honesty made her eyes glisten, but he didn’t stop, it was as if once he’d started, he had to give her it all in a rush.

“We both searched all over for you, including every database we had, and found nothing. Not one thing. You didn’t take the cell phone I got you. Hell, I didn’t even have your last name. Or that you were from Canada. That was something you didn’t mention when you were here.”

She tried to talk, but he kept his finger in place, even when she narrowed her eyes and he considered the fact she had nice, sharp teeth.

A knock on the door interrupted him when he opened his mouth, but it was immediately followed by a ‘sir’ he couldn’t ignore.

“Damn it, we’re not done here,” he muttered and dragged her closer and kissed her as deeply as he could as fast as he could. Releasing her, he examined her flushed face and her pretty wet lips. “Not by a long shot, princess.”

He set her on the bed and got up, grumbling his way to the door with the damn crutch keeping him upright.

Roy Moon, a man who worked under Carson, stood at the door, a clipboard in his hand and a sorry expression on his face.

“Sir, we have word from Commander Carson.”

Shit.
“What is it?”