Until There Was You (Coming Home, #2) (6 page)

Then there was a subtle shift as Claire leaned into him. She didn’t turn. She didn’t look up. She simply leaned against him. And Evan, fool that he was, held her up.

“I don’t like being pinned down,” she finally admitted.

Evan frowned, leaning away from her to peer down at her face. “But you do combatives. Several of those fighting positions involve being laid on. Crushed, even.”

She lifted one shoulder in an absent shrug, an infinitesimal move away from his space. “That’s different. I’m fighting back against a fully conscious opponent.” She sighed quietly.

“That’s not really an answer.” He stepped closer and for once, she didn’t dance away in retreat. She stood her ground, lifting her chin and meeting his gaze.

“When the TOC got blown up at the end of our last deployment, I was pinned down. I don’t know for how long, but I panicked.” Her voice cracked. “While the building burned around me, I did nothing but lie there and scream.” She swallowed and looked away. “I couldn’t do anything but scream,” she whispered.

* * *

“Combat brings everyone low, Claire,” he murmured.

He was close enough that she could see the shadow of a beard along his jaw. She had the intense urge to see if it was soft or rough. His scent wrapped around her, whispering for her to do something incredibly stupid like stand there and breathe in the spicy heat from his body. His words were a caress, a subtle sweep of emotion over her skin.

They were alone in the late-night hallway. For once they weren’t ripping each
other’s heads off. She expected him to chew her out for her hasty decision to rush into the blown-up building. To echo the harsh criticisms she’d levied against herself since the day she’d gotten blown up. Claire waited, searching his eyes for a trace of the stoic arrogance she’d come to expect from him. But she saw nothing she expected.

“I didn’t know you were hurt when the TOC blew up,” he said quietly. And with those simple words, he challenged everything she’d thought she’d known about Evan Loehr.

She frowned at a not-so-distant memory and at the unexpectedness of his words. “I walked away. More or less. You got hurt though, right?”

“Yeah. Just a flesh wound.”

She swallowed and glanced at him then. She opened her mouth to speak but he shocked her when he lifted his hand, tracing his thumb over her bottom lip. A violent shiver wracked her body, stunning her with the force of her reaction to this man’s touch.

“I’m sorry you were scared,” he murmured. “But that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Right before he kissed her.

* * *

It was a gentle kiss. Hesitant and soft and unexpected. Her lips were parted the barest of fractions before his mouth even moved against hers. Her breath huffed against his mouth as he tasted her, an easy, light caress of lips. He nudged her top lip with his and she opened for him. His breath caught in his throat as his tongue flicked out, stroking hers, coaxing past the barrier of her teeth. Shields crumbled as he deepened the kiss, overcome by the honeyed taste of this woman. Of Claire.

Her body was soft where she brushed against him. He could have crushed her to him, but he didn’t. Conscious of her earlier panic, he skimmed his hands up her arms to
cradle her shoulders gently between his palms. When she shifted and sighed against him, when her fingers curled into his chest, only then did Evan dare slide one hand into the soft mass of her hair and angle her mouth so he could take all of her.

Need, raw and powerful, slammed into him, overpowering the cold control he’d maintained from years of practice. Nothing, not even the first time he’d kissed her, had ever struck him with such naked force. Need made him want to wrap her in his arms and drag her into the crisp, cool darkness.

Her gasp collided with his a moment before he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue. Her skin was slick and hot beneath his touch, her mouth offering a warm, wet feast of texture and taste. He drank from her, taking everything she had to give. It was a gentle, unending battle for supremacy that neither of them could hope to win.

* * *

Claire was not prepared for the strength of her reaction to Evan’s sensual assault. She raised her hands to block him, but instead her palms collided with the soft, warm cotton beneath his steel-grey jacket. She almost smiled, but that would have required that she do something other than hold on for dear life.

She didn’t want this. Not with him. Not with anyone. Sooner or later, everyone let her down. Years at war had only reinforced the lessons she’d learned far too young. But with Evan, every stolen look dragged her closer to the edge of the abyss. And kissing him was a dangerous gamble, threatening far more than casual, mindless sex.

Because what Evan offered was the promise of something so rare, so fleeting, she was certain that the moment she allowed herself to crave it, he would vanish. Or worse, let her down.

Right now, none of those things mattered as she lost herself in Evan’s taste. Her palms ached to touch his bare skin, to feel the raw power of his body beneath her touch.

This was a bad idea. A disaster.

And Claire no longer cared.

* * *

Evan was lost in her. Her tongue danced with his, smooth strokes that mimicked the movement he craved with her body. His hunger built until he was aching and hard, desire lashing inside him like a war drum. Touching her, molding her feminine strength with his palms, was by far the stupidest thing he’d done in a long, long time. The temptation to strip bare her defenses along with her body demanded relief. He had no ability to resist this woman. She was a rare, fierce creature, one that yielded beneath the onslaught of his mouth even as she held her own against his desire.

What had begun as a reaction to something powerful was now sweet torment, a relentless downpour of ragged desire that branded them both. Arousal ripped through him, a pure, unadulterated lust. Where this woman was concerned, there was no restraint. No half measures.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was about this woman that drove him to distraction. But as he pressed against her, he wished with everything he was that they were alone and naked where he could do this right.

He cradled her cheek in his palm as he eased back, nibbling on her bottom lip. He didn’t want to give up the taste of her but he wasn’t an idiot. Even if he managed to get her to bed tonight, they had to work together for the next few weeks. Kissing her might be the sweetest mistake, but taking her to bed would be worse. It would ruin the only chance Evan had ever had at getting to know this fierce, vibrant woman who hid so much vulnerability behind a warrior’s façade.

And he wasn’t willing to give that up.

* * *

Claire stood in the warmth of Evan’s embrace, unwilling and unable to pull away. “Who are you and what have you done with Captain America?” she whispered.

“I’m not Captain America.” An awkward, familiar hush settled over them like a shroud. She smiled.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, holding his gaze. “For helping me look after Reza tonight.”

“Did he really pass out while he was walking?”

Claire swallowed and eased a little more space between them. “He tripped.”

The lingering warmth between them cooled a little bit more.

“Why are you making excuses for him? He’s so drunk he couldn’t even keep himself upright.”

“He had a few too many tonight. So what? It happens.” A harsh memory rose inside her, squeezing her heart and pressing against her lungs. She’d had this argument before, when she was too young to fight her way out of it. “Besides, I’m fine. Nothing wounded but my pride.”

Even pushed out an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re really defending him?”

“I’d take a bullet for that man,” she said, pulling clear of his personal space, the silence between them a familiar cold. “Putting him to bed after he’s had a few too many drinks is nothing.”

“Wow, that’s a hell of a lot of loyalty you’ve got going on there, Claire.”

She bristled at his tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re an officer. You’re not supposed to be that close to an enlisted soldier. Your relationship crosses a lot of barriers.”

“Don’t you dare.” Her voice was hushed. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me
that to be an officer, I have to turn my back on someone who has been family to me since the day I joined the army. You might be a shiny army brass, but you don’t know jack shit about loyalty.” She never raised her voice. She simply turned and walked away and left him standing in the hallway, refusing to be judged by him for a moment longer.

The next morning, Claire woke up with the sheets twisted and soaked around her body, her blood slamming through her veins in the aftermath of a powerful fantasy featuring her own personal superhero. Her own body was betraying her over Captain America.
Damn it
. She didn’t need someone like Evan distracting her.

Dawn was still at least two hours away but Claire knew she wouldn’t get back to sleep, so she headed down to the gym to work off some serious sexual frustration.

On the padded mats normally used for combatives, the army’s version of mixed martial arts, she raised her arms over her head, focusing on the feel of the warm material beneath her feet. She let her concentration glide through the ether, attempting to release the tension in her shoulders as the noise from the other rooms in the gym echoed against the edge of her skull. Nothing drowned out the incessant ache between her thighs that had tormented her since last night.

Physical activity normally left in its wake a sort of calming buzz, but this morning she was anything but calm and centered after her workout. A mix of endorphins and spent energy pulsed through her veins, slamming through her and keeping her edgy. She shivered violently, as arousal and vulnerability mixed in her blood.

What was it Gunny Highway always said in the movie
Heartbreak Ridge
? Improvise, adapt, and overcome?

Yeah, Claire was an expert at improvising new and exciting ways out of complicated relationships. Especially when it came to avoiding intimacy in her life. And Evan had only complicated things more when he’d kissed her.

She’d kissed Evan Loehr. Again. The army’s poster child for the perfect soldier. He was all-American West Point while she was a working-class mustang, an officer
who’d come up through the ranks. Evan judged her for cherishing the first real friend she’d made, not just in the army but in life, more than the rank on her chest. A man like Evan didn’t kiss a woman like her.

And yet, he’d been the one to cross the boundaries between them. He’d been the one who leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, who’d kissed her like his life depended on it. And she’d been all for it. Her hormones had stood up and taken notice and practically shouted hooray for penis.

Good thing her brain had veto power over her hormones. As a former enlisted officer and a soldier herself, she’d never fit into Evan Loehr’s polished world of chic officer’s wives and monthly teas with the ladies. So why the hell had she crossed that line and tasted the luxurious sin of forbidden fruit? The first time she’d kissed him, she’d been trying to win a bet with herself, wondering whether he’d really stay stiff and rigid or relax. Now? Now she’d crossed the line into stupid. Was she just into self-torture? Was that it? She reached her arms over her head again, hoping to banish the chaos churning in her belly.

Who was she kidding? She’d kissed him back, the sharp bite of human contact a potent compulsion. She could not remember a time when a man’s kiss had rocked her world so completely. No wonder she’d woken up aroused and frustrated this morning. Her body ached. And it wasn’t just yearning for some random male.

No. She wanted Evan. And that simply was not allowed to happen. He’d gone too far. They both had.

She couldn’t sleep with Evan. Even if they weren’t on the same team, she couldn’t face that kind of scrutiny. The idea that the soldiers around her would see her as a woman first and a soldier second burned in her belly. She always,
always
chose the mission first.

She fell to her knees and slammed her palm against the mat, still unable to concentrate. She lowered her head onto her forearms, giving up on the tai chi and
transitioning to yoga as she moved into child’s pose, seeking an elusive quiet inside her.

She’d made a mistake last night—and while she couldn’t erase it, she could certainly learn from it. She had to push away the memory of his touch and focus on work. She’d been doing it for years, ignoring the aching loneliness that sometimes crept up on her. She’d settled for being one of the guys, on trying to be a good soldier, ignoring the emptiness of her life.

A poignant regret slipped in and took hold, whispering that she was walking away from something good. Something powerful and seductive. There was more to Evan than she’d ever imagined. Still, she shoved away the memory of Evan’s taste and touch and focused her energy on the one thing that mattered: getting Sarah and her team ready to deploy.

There was no time for self-pity.

She was a soldier, damn it. And that meant lacing up her boots and accomplishing the mission. Because that’s what good soldiers did.

* * *

Her lips were parted just a hint. A whisper of space, teasing him with thoughts of that warm, wet mouth. A mouth that for once wasn’t cursing or ripping someone’s head off
.

A mouth that Evan was finally able to admit fascinated him
.

Arousal spiked through his veins and whipped his blood to a frenzy as he spanned the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. Claire’s taste encircled him, ensnared him and urged him deeper
.

She did not simply open her mouth and let him kiss her. Not Claire. Never Claire. They sparred, their tongues twisting and twining and sliding against each other in a battle for more than victory
.

Claire rubbed her hips against his and he felt himself stepping backwards. “Take your pants off,” she said, her voice husky
.