high tech, something that was carefully crafted to confuse the opposition—me.
“Now, Hayden. This is an order,” he barks in my face.
He doesn’t wait for me to obey. Arms wrap around my chest from behind and he drags me back.
The child’s tears create paths in the dust caking his cheeks, like a river with muddy banks.
The woman never opens her mouth.
So I scream for her.
“Wes? Wes, wake up.”
My eyes blink open. The muscles in my legs and arms are coiled tight, as if they’ve been in motion. My heart races, blood and adrenaline tearing through me.
My vision adjusts to the darkness and I see the outline of a woman. “Dakota.” My voice is hoarse, with a pleading, almost desperate, edge.
“You were having a nightmare,” she whispers, leaning over my bed. Tentatively she reaches for me, her hand splaying out on my chest. Her fingers curl and uncurl, and I see what she’s doing. She’s not just soothing me. She’s soothing my heart.
I wait for the embarrassment to warm my neck and face, but it never comes. Instead I feel… relief? How can that be? I shouldn’t be turning toward her like this, shouldn’t be closing my eyes and allowing her sweetness to melt into my damaged parts.
“Wes?” My name is a question, and I know what she’s asking.
“No,” I say quickly, even though part of me wants to say yes and tell her about my dream.
Tell her and be free of some of it. Would the wound begin to heal? Is it even okay if it does? Do I deserve to heal? The more time I spend around Dakota, the more I begin to think that maybe I can have a sliver of the happiness I once wanted for myself.
Dakota climbs onto the bed and sits back on her heels. The outside edge of her bent leg presses against my side. She leans down, lips grazing my cheek, sliding over to the corner of my mouth. “I can take your mind off it,” she whispers, her breath warm on my skin.
It’s not even an offer that needs consideration. The answer is yes, absolutely, of course, I’ve been waiting five years to be with you again.
Desire rushes through me, hot and intense. I need her now. If I am the wound, Dakota is the salve.
I roll her over without warning and she gasps. I cover her body with the length of mine, prop myself up on a forearm, and turn on the nightstand lamp. The yellow light casts a soft glow.
“I need to see you,” I explain, staring down into the depths of the hazel eyes I’ve never forgotten.
“Same,” she chokes out, cupping my cheek.
My head dips low and I skim the tip of my nose over the pink flush on her cheeks. Her fingernails rake through my hair and down my neck, sending a shudder through me.
My mouth moves over hers, and she meets me with the hunger I remember from before. Her back arches, breasts pushing into me, hips urging me on. Going slow is not in the cards for us right now.
I sit up and help her take off her shirt, then grip the waistband of her shorts. She lifts her hips, the cotton fabric clearing her legs and landing somewhere in the room. At a time like this, pausing is required even in the midst of frenzy. I need to appreciate what’s in front of me. Dakota with her soft, creamy skin, her curves, her feminine shoulders. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated shoulders before, but looking down at Dakota right now, I’m definitely understanding their appeal.
“Dakota, you are so fucking gorgeous.” My eyes stay trained on her as my hand dips low, gliding over her stomach, south to the apex of her legs. A low groan vibrates in my throat when my fingers slip over her.
She swallows hard, her eyes hooded, breath coming in heavy pants. “Only you,” she stops to drag in air, “could use bad language in a compliment.”
I grin. “You might be right about that.”
“Come here,” she says, holding her arms out, wanting me on top of her.
I do as she asks, lying down on her but careful to support my weight on my forearms. Her leg lifts and her toes slide into the waistband of my pants, gripping the fabric, then yanking them down my body.
“Hidden talents,” I murmur, kissing a trail from her neck up to her jaw.
She turns her head and captures my lips, pulling my lower lip between her teeth