Just One Night Together (Flatiron Five Fitness #3) - Deborah Cooke Page 0,53

orgasm,” he whispered in her ear and she shivered in delight. “I command you to come.”

“I can’t. Damon, I can’t!”

“You’re going to.”

“No,” Haley began to protest, knowing that she was on the cusp but unable to let go. Then Damon changed his grip, surging inside her as he moved to lock one hand over her mouth. His other hand swept down long enough for him to flick a fingertip across her clitoris and Haley stole a glance at their reflection. The combination was enough to send her over the edge and she came in a thunderous rush, biting into his palm as her orgasm went on and on and on.

She heard Damon swear under his breath then he tensed behind her, driving deeper inside and holding her tighter as he found his own release.

She was breathing hard when he lifted his hand away and turned her face so he could kiss her sweetly. She could feel his heart pounding against her back and she was glad that she wasn’t the only one so affected.

“Shower,” he said when he broke their kiss and she smiled at the lazy satisfaction in his tone.

“Don’t think you can be bossy all the time.”

“You seemed to like it just fine,” he muttered, easing out of her, then lifting her easily in his arms. His eyes glinted as he looked down at her. “How was that?”

“Great,” Haley admitted.

“And I’ve only just begun,” he said as he set her down in the bathroom. “Go on. Tell me another one of your fantasies.”

“So you can make it come true?”

“Pretty much. Tonight, I aim to please.”

She had a funny feeling then about the finality of his tone.

Would this be the last time they were together?

Was it his plan to leave her with a memory before he disappeared from her life?

Eight

Damon fell asleep.

He never fell asleep anywhere except in his own bed with the door locked and his routines completed. He was never lax about discipline and he never napped in other locations.

But he fell asleep in Haley’s bed. He was aware of the cat watching him, sitting on the end of the kitchen counter with his tail lashing. Damon thought he’d just close his eyes for a moment, just to catch his breath after another amazing orgasm.

And then he was back in Afghanistan, in that dusty village.

He was watching the grenade roll toward them in slow motion, knowing the kid had compromised them, knowing that his adherence to the rules was going to cost them big. It seemed he had a thousand years to realize all the repercussions of this small projectile, yet he moved so slowly. His body wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t get himself between Foster and the grenade, even though he struggled to throw himself forward.

And the sound. The sound filled his ears to bursting. The sound was louder than anything he’d ever heard before, ripping through him, destroying, annihilating, shredding...until Buchanan moaned.

Foster didn’t move again.

Damon awakened with a jolt, sitting up in the bed and wondering where the hell he was. He was panting and there was sweat trickling down his back, panic making his heart race. He wanted to run, to hide, to get the hell out.

He was on his feet, grabbing his jeans by the time Haley awakened and sat up.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, hearing the terror in his voice. He could have hurt her. He could have lashed out, unaware of what he was doing. He’d breached his own protocol and she could have paid the price.

He had to go home, where it was safe.

Where the world was safe from him.

He tugged on his clothes, well aware that Haley was watching him without getting out of bed. She probably was horrified. She probably thought there was something wrong with him.

There was.

“You didn’t just serve,” she said with that quiet conviction he found so unnerving. “You have PTSD.”

And just like that, the secret Damon struggled to hide was out in the open. He felt exposed and vulnerable, which didn’t exactly help in his current situation.

He had to get out.

Immediately.

Damon was ex-military, and he had PTSD. Haley felt stupid for not seeing the truth sooner, even though that was hardly her area of expertise.

She just believed she should understand everyone’s issues.

And preferably fix them.

She saw the panic in Damon’s eyes when she made her guess and knew enough about the condition that she understood he’d want to flee.

Nightmares, flashbacks or bad dreams.

Heightened fight-or-flight response.

Emotional detachment.

The list of symptoms unfurled in her mind and

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