Ruthless Bastard (Dangerous Love 3)

A loud bang jolted Kinsley awake from a deep sleep. She sat up in Rhett’s queen-size bed, with a dark gray duvet over her, and glanced right, finding the clock on the nightstand that read 4:22. Darkness encased her, telling her she should still be sleeping. Another loud grunt sounded again, and she shoved the covers off, hurrying out of bed. Just as she reached the open door, Rhett’s yell froze her in place. “Run!”

Her heart leapt up into her throat, the sleepiness gone from her eyes, as she scanned the area quickly for a possible threat.

Rhett’s sharp intake of breath jerked her attention to the couch, where he suddenly sat up. Moonlight shone in through the window, detailing the hard lines of his body wound tight, sweat glistening off tense muscles. “Fuck,” he said, running his hands through his hair.

Not wanting to make a big deal out of an obvious nightmare, Kinsley slowly backed up until she climbed into the bed again. She lay her head against her pillow, sure he couldn’t see her through the darkness, and watched Rhett rise, scrubbing his face. Even from where she lay, he looked visibly shaken. The sound of his voice moments ago had made her blood go cold. She’d never heard that tone from him. There was no fear, no emotion, no nothing, just an order that was meant to save lives.

That was the soldier.

The man she didn’t know.

The bed felt cold, the sheets impossibly wrinkly and suddenly uncomfortable, as she heard the shower go on. With bated breath, she waited, and waited, and waited for him to finish his shower, to know he was all right. Ten minutes went by, then twenty, then twenty-five. No thoughts went through her mind as she slid out from under the blankets again and moved to the bathroom. Only worry for him touching every warm bit in her soul. The door was ajar, and she pushed it fully open, finding the small room full of steam. “Rhett,” she said softly.

Nothing. No response.

The all-glass shower was completely clouded. “Rhett,” she said louder. “Are you okay?”

Still nothing.

She moved closer and opened the shower door, every second feeling like a lifetime. When she peered inside, she nearly broke at the sight in front of her. Rhett sat against the wall, arms resting on his knees, hands threaded in his hair. Desperate to get closer, she went straight in, cotton nightgown and all, and knelt next to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, sliding her touch over the rough skin of the bullet wound there that had ended his military career. He trembled beneath her touch, even though the water raining down on them was warm. “Rhett,” she said softly.

He finally lifted his head, dropping it back against the tiled wall, and his gaze met hers. His expression revealed everything…his pain…his truth…his horror at the things he’d seen, and she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, regardless of whether he wanted it or not. She didn’t count the minutes she held him, but she relished when he dropped his head into her neck and inhaled deeply. He didn’t touch her, not until his trembling stopped. Only then did he wrap his arms around her tight.

Tears welled behind her closed eyes. She didn’t even want to think about what he saw in those nightmares. She pulled back from his embrace and met his dark eyes. “Bad dream?”

He nodded.

Pulled in by this hidden force between them, she cupped his face. “What can I do to help?”

He stared at her. She stared back. And in those passing seconds, there was suddenly nothing separating them. There was just this heated intensity that was passion and emotion and things she couldn’t even explain to herself. He dropped his chin and breathed so deep that it almost seemed like a weight had been lifted off him. “I can’t fight this tonight. Fight you.

You’ve got one chance to get up and go back to bed.”

She released a shuddering breath, embracing the burn he built inside her. “I’m not leaving you.”

His eyes blazed. “Then kiss me.”

And she willingly complied, knowing the danger, but doing it anyway. Because there was something addictive about Rhett, something she never could let go of. Being with him went against everything her mind told her. She risked her heart, and yet it felt right to do so.

A harsh shudder ran through him when she climbed onto his lap, her soaking nightgown a heavy weight against her. His strong callused hands caressed her thighs, sliding her nightgown up and up until he cupped her bottom. She stared into his eyes, lost in them, owned by them. He didn’t look like an empty man. He watched her with heat and passion, turning her bones to liquid. Albeit, with a whole world of uncertainty simmering just beneath the surface.

But all that went away when he kissed her, like he knew her body and how to make it awaken. He took and gave equally, undoing her completely until she was panting for more. Nothing in how he touched her now was like their one night in the tropics. It wasn’t playful and fun; it was raw and needy. It didn’t feel like he was caressing her; it felt like he was centering himself, reminding himself what was real and what wasn’t, and she wanted to be that for him.

She shifted her panties to the side and then ground her hips, rubbing herself against him, feeding pleasure to where she most needed it. He gave a rough growl, his kiss turning urgent, and she didn’t wait, needing him just as much. She lifted her hips, finding the tip of him, taking him deep inside her. He broke the kiss, one hand on her nape, the other on her hip helping her move and gain speed. Every slow stroke brought her higher, made her moan louder, echoed by his groans.

She lost herself in the way he watched her. The need there. And with a surge of pleasure, she sank deeper into this thing between them. The thing that made no sense, defied everything she believed in, and yet somehow seemed perfectly right.

His hands were suddenly gone, grabbing her nightgown and yanking the soaking wet fabric over her head. His fingers threaded in her wet hair again, and his lips met hers with a passion that burned. She felt him everywhere. In her body. In her heart. In her soul. But then his hands were on her breasts, his tongue sliding over a taut nipple.

Heat flowed through her, a building pleasure she couldn’t control. She moved harder, faster, as he sucked deeper, bringing her nipple to the roof of his mouth. Then his teeth brushed over the sensitive flesh, dragging and pulling, and all the building pressure suddenly broke apart around her. She vaguely heard his answering roar, his fingers digging into her hip, but the pulsing of her pleasure pulled her under.

The moment she remembered she had working parts was the same instant she realized that Rhett was hugging her tight again, his head buried in her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, and did the one thing she knew no other woman had done before her.

She didn’t let him push her away.

* * *

Darkness enveloped his bedroom as Rhett stood by the foot of his bed, shaking the excess water from his hair. He had slipped into his boxer briefs, knowing he should reach for his pants and shirt and walk away, but he couldn’t find the strength to do that tonight. The dream shook him, more so than it had in months. For years, nightmares had drowned him and whiskey had been his answer to silence them. Women helped them too, burning off the adrenaline and quieting his head. Tonight’s nightmare left him feeling raw and Kinsley made breathing easier. As she lay in his bed, his deep inhale felt lighter than it had since he’d come home from the military. Her light had encased him, and there wasn’t a damn chance in hell he’d walk away from that.