Under Pressure (18 page)

He was greedy and wanted every second of Kennedy he could get, especially since those moments were numbered.

Her panted breaths became whimpers of need, sweet music to his ears. He loved knowing he could make her feel that kind of pleasure.

“Ash, please. Please,” she begged.

“That’s it, angel. Let go.”

Her orgasm crashed over them both. Asher smothered her cry with a soul-deep kiss. The force of it was too much for him. The ball of fire built at the small of his back, exploding out in wave after wave of intoxicating pleasure.

Together, they collapsed onto the bed. Asher rolled them both until Kennedy was tucked at his side, her head lodged beneath his chin.

Closing his eyes, he tried to regain...something. His equilibrium, his sanity, his autonomy. He wasn’t sure, just that the woman in his arms had devastated him...in the best way possible.

They lay like that for several minutes. Slowly, awareness returned. Asher was pretty sure there was a cupcake crushed beneath his hip, but he was too comfortable to move. They could deal with that later.

“Uh, that didn’t quite go how I’d planned,” she finally said.

“No?” Asher picked up his head, just enough so that he could look down at her, a single eyebrow raised in question. “Exactly how did you think that would go down?”

“Oh, you know, I had this vision of myself as an amazon princess, holding you down, torturing you with icing until I finally had you begging for mercy and promising never to call any woman cupcake again.”

A bubble of laugher rolled up from deep inside his chest. There was nothing about Kennedy Duchane that was boring.

“Apparently you forgot to take my battle-honed skills into account.”

Her lips quirked into a half smile. “Apparently.”

“Although, I’m hardly going to complain about your methods of torture. They were a hell of a lot more pleasant than anything else I’ve endured.”

Asher didn’t realize what he’d said until Kennedy went utterly still beside him.

“The fact that you can talk about being tortured so flippantly makes me...”

This time he let her words hang in the air, curious to see just how she’d finish the sentence.

“Crazy and scared and pissed and like I should kiss you all over.”

“Pretty sure you just did that.”

Kennedy shoved at his shoulder. He let his body rock back with the momentum, using it to press her tighter against his chest.

He didn’t need the kind of balm she was offering, his scars were long past healed, but it was nice that someone was finally making the offer.

Looking back, he’d rarely had anyone in his life to give a damn. Sure, his grandma had loved him. And even if her methods for keeping a headstrong and sullen teenager in line had been high-handed at times, he’d always known her discipline had come from a place of affection.

His ex-wife had been many things, but nurturing wasn’t one of them. At the time, he hadn’t particularly thought he needed that.

Maybe he’d been wrong.

“It bothers me that you fall back on bland comments or humor to deflect topics you don’t like.”

The fact that she noticed should have bothered him. It was a defense mechanism he hadn’t even been aware of until a few years ago. Kennedy understanding him enough to recognize that left him vulnerable.

Which only made him want to make another quip to force her away from anything resembling the heavy topic she was hell-bent on tackling.

But he didn’t. Instead, he gave her the truth.

“Yes, I’ve been tortured. Shot and stabbed. I’ve had broken bones and minor lacerations. Comes with the territory. But I’m fine now.”

Pressing up onto her elbow, Kennedy watched him for several seconds. “I’m not sure your definition of fine and mine are the same. You don’t let anyone in.”

Seriously, this woman saw too damn much.

“What do you mean? I have Jackson and Knox. You—” he quickly tacked something onto that single word before she realized it meant more than he’d intended “—and the rest of the Trident team.”

“Work. Is that all you have in your life? Work and meaningless sexual encounters with women you know you’ll never see again?”

Asher spread his hands across her hips and lifted her up and off of him. “I’m not talking about other women while you’re naked and draped across me, Kennedy.”

A small smile tugged at the edge of her lips.

Climbing out of bed, Asher couldn’t explain why he suddenly felt as if a band was clamped around his ribs. He needed to get out of here, away from this conversation.

“I’m gonna wash the rest of this sugar off. Join me?”

“You know I’m not that easily distracted.”

He tossed her a wicked grin and pointed at the crumbling mess of cupcake in the bed they’d just shared. “That would suggest otherwise, cupcake.”

Kennedy growled a warning he had no intention of heeding.

“Surely you realize I’m not going to just let this go.”

Snagging a cupcake off the plate, Asher shoved half of it into his mouth. An eyebrow cocked in challenge, he strode across the cabin for the tiny bathroom attached.

Kennedy trailed behind him. She dropped the lid down over the toilet, wrapping her legs up into a pretzel as she watched him from her perch.

Asher flipped on the water as hot as it would go, trying not to let himself be distracted by Kennedy and her beautiful, naked body.

“You have to be carrying around some psychological weight from the things you’ve done and seen.”

Shaking his head, he ducked into the shower, closing the clear glass door between them. It didn’t help.

Why was she digging? Why did she care, when she was just going to walk out of his life?

Tipping his head back beneath the hot stream, Asher closed his eyes...and eventually answered her. “Sure, it bothers me sometimes. I mean, I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t. I killed people, Kennedy. We all did. But it was either kill or be killed. And while I’d like to think everything I did, every order I followed, fell firmly in the white areas of clearly good, I know that we operated mostly in the gray. The SEALs aren’t called in for the piddly shit. We handle life and death, national security.”

He didn’t want to see her reaction, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and running his palm across the glass, wiping away a clear patch through the steam and fog built up on the surface.

Part of him wished he hadn’t.

Kennedy watched him, her whiskey eyes somehow sad and fierce. He didn’t want to see that expression on her face, especially after the amazing encounter they’d just shared.

After several seconds, she unfolded her lithe body. He watched her step across the small space and reach for the handle on the shower door.

She slid inside with him, closing the glass behind her and cloaking them both in the rising bubble of steam.

She didn’t touch him, which was a damn feat, considering how small the shower was. She stared up at him and in a quiet voice said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything. The sacrifices you made. Putting your life on the line. Bringing my brother home safe and whole. Giving me the most amazing orgasm in my life and making sure I’ll never look at a cupcake the same way again. For being the man you are.”

A lump formed in the back of his throat. Shit. She was going to make him care.

That band of pressure squeezed harder. Hope and fear, an uncomfortable combination, seemed to itch beneath his skin. Suddenly, he was restless and needy.

As if sensing he was floundering, Kennedy fell back on the defense mechanism he always used, the one that had apparently deserted him just when he’d needed it most.

Her mouth tipping up in a saucy smile, she said, “But I’m still not okay with you calling me cupcake.”

Asher laughed, the sound of it echoing off the walls and bouncing back at both of them.

Wrapping his arms around her body, he tugged her tight against him. Burying his nose in her soft hair, he said, “You realize that’s not going to stop me, right?”

Kennedy sighed, a single exasperated word gushing across his wet skin. “Yep.”

14

S
OMETHING
BETWEEN
THEM
had shifted. Kennedy had felt it, cocooned inside that small, quiet room, alone with Asher. Several days later, sitting beside him on another plane, the echo of it was still reverberating through her body.

Scaring her straight down to her bones.

For the better part of two years they’d sniped and barely tolerated each other. But now... There was something about seeing Asher at his most vulnerable, knowing that
she
was the only one able to help him through a difficult situation, that called to a place deep inside her.

But no matter what, she couldn’t let that spot grow. Because there wasn’t a future here. Not when she was leaving. Not when Asher had given her no indication that this meant more to him.

So her developing emotions were her own issue to deal with.

After almost two weeks on the
Amphitrite
, they were now returning to their real lives. They still had several more days of filming at the Trident main offices, but when this was over...they would be, too.

She’d be starting a new adventure far from home, something she’d wanted for a very long time. A month ago, if anyone had told her that landing her dream job would suddenly feel like a burden instead of a blessing, she would have laughed in their face. But today, she didn’t like the churning sensation in her belly whenever she thought about leaving for Seattle.

The plane touched down on the runway. Asher’s leg rubbed against hers as he shifted in his seat. How much different this ride had been from their flight out.

On the way to the Bahamas, tension had twisted her gut. This time, somewhere over the Caribbean Sea she’d fallen asleep with her head resting against Asher’s shoulder. At some point he’d shifted her body, tucking her into his side and giving her a solid place to snuggle into his warmth.

A sharp pain pinched her chest as he stood, gathering their bags from the overhead bin and shouldering them both without even asking her. Because that was the kind of guy he was.

She followed behind, shuffling into the aisle ahead of him when he dropped back to hold the line of people trying to push past.

They hadn’t checked any luggage, so it was a quick trip through customs and out into the muggy Florida heat.

Stopping at her car in the garage, Asher waited for her to fish her keys from her purse and unlock the trunk. He loaded her things and closed it again, pressing his hip against the side.

Arms crossed over his chest, he studied her for several seconds.

“Come home with me.”

They were the first words he’d spoken to her in about an hour. Kennedy tried not to let her heart gallop at them. A lump formed in the back of her throat, but she pushed it down and forced herself to say the words she knew she must.

Distance, she needed some if she had any hope of getting out of this thing with her heart intact.

“I have to go home and unpack. Check on things. Get Max from the vet. He’s been cooped up there long enough.”

“Bring Max with you.”

God, she was weak. Because she wanted to do just that. But how long would this last? A few more days? A week at the most.

Pushing away from the car, Asher snagged her, pulling her against his body. He was strong, solid. Tempting. His scent wrapped around her just as surely as his arms. And she wanted him, not only physically, although her body was definitely responding to him. But everything he was willing to give her for as long as she could get it.

Hands on her hips, Asher pushed her back against the car. His palms settled on either side of her head, trapping her. The thing was, she didn’t want to get free.

That moment, that place, was exactly where she wanted to be.

And what was so bad about that? At least for right now.

She could deal with the aftermath of her decision later, when she didn’t have any other choice.

Asher brought his mouth to hers, coaxing, slow and devastating. He teased her lips, brushing softly and licking, until she couldn’t help but open to him. With a few well-placed moves, he had her panting. In the middle of a public parking garage.

What was it about this man that made her completely lose her head?

“Come home with me, Kennedy. I want you there.”

Four little words she was powerless to ignore.

“Damn you,” she breathed out even as she nodded her head, giving in.

He chuckled, the sound of it as much of a caress as the little nip of his teeth against her bottom lip. When he pulled back, he was grinning down at her, a wicked heat filling his expressive eyes.

“Get Max. Do whatever you need to. I’ve got dinner covered. After the stress of the last few days, I think we both deserve an easy, carefree night.”

His words were so enticing.

Kennedy watched him walk across the garage to where his Jeep was parked. Throwing his bag into the passenger’s seat, he turned and waited until she pulled out before jumping in and following her.

She told herself not to rush. To take her time, check on her condo, throw some laundry into the washer, flip through the mail that had piled up while she was gone.

But none of that happened. Kennedy tossed her bag inside the front door, raced around throwing a few toiletries and a change of clothes into another bag, and was back out the door in about twenty minutes flat.

It took another thirty to retrieve Max, the blue heeler and lab mix she’d adopted from the pound a year ago. He was the most loyal dog she’d ever seen and had made moving from her childhood home to her own place after graduation a little less lonely.

Less than an hour and a half after leaving him at the airport, Kennedy pulled into Asher’s driveway.

And just sat there, staring at his front door, her heart thumping a mile a minute.

It was one thing to let him into her life and body when they were cocooned on the
Amphitrite
. But she was about to cross a line. And she knew it was a bad idea but couldn’t stop herself from doing it anyway. Beside her, Max whimpered, confused about what they were doing and where they were.