Born to Be Wilde

Chapter Fifteen

LORA walked out of the bathroom after a hot shower and into the living room, where Joel had built a fire in the hearth to help warm up the front rooms. With her hair towel-dried and wearing her favorite pair of pink cotton sweats and fuzzy socks, she headed into the kitchen, where Joel was pouring their steaming soup into bowls. She felt her stomach grumble hungrily, and realized that she was starved.

"That hot shower sure did feel good," she teased as she came up beside Joel at the counter. While he'd taken the time to change into dry clothes, his hair was still damp from getting caught out in the rain.

"I wouldn't know," he said, and cast her an envious look, one that lingered longer than necessary on her lips before lifting to her eyes. "I was busy slaving over the stove making your dinner."

She laughed and picked up the plates with their grilled cheese sandwiches to take to the small dining table.

"Now don't be a poor sport. We made a deal, and you lost. I can't help it if you're a slowpoke."

He carried over the bowls of soup, along with spoons, and set them down on the placemats. "Yeah, well, I didn't expect you to cheat."

"What?" Her tone rose incredulously, and she arched a brow his way as she sat down. "How do you figure that I cheated!"

He took the seat next to her. "You took complete advantage of a weakened man." His gaze took on a sexy glimmer, and the corners of his mouth twitched with a playful smile, leaving no doubt in her mind as to what, exactly, had worn him out.

Remembering her bold and shameless seduction, a warm blush swept over her cheeks. "You know, I'm finding it very hard to feel sorry for you."

"It was worth a shot," he said with a wink, and started in on his navy bean soup.

Taking a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich, she shook her head and pondered the change in Joel, from his earlier brooding attitude while chopping wood, back to the fun, flirtatious guy she'd originally met. He might have willingly surrendered to her lip service out in the middle of the storm, but she'd truly expected him to revert right back to being serious and all business once they returned to the cabin. She'd even anticipated the possibility of him expressing regrets for giving in to his desires, or launching into one of those "we shouldn't have" kind of speeches, and she was grateful that he hadn't done any of those things-because if he had, she would have had to just deck him.

She supposed it was the fact that they were a world away from civilization and the threat they'd left behind, she mused as they continued to eat their dinner in compardonable silence. Or maybe the carefree, laid-back atmosphere out there lent itself to a more relaxed attitude and mind-set. Whatever the reason, she was going to enjoy Joel's fun, cheerful mood while it lasted.

Finished with their meal, Joel leaned back in his chair and let out a contented sigh. "That was pretty darn good, if I do say so myself."

She rolled her eyes and decided to humor him. "Yeah, you're a regular Chef Boyardee."

He gave a low, lazy chuckle. "Yeah, that's about as good as it gets when you're a bachelor."

They stood up, and when he started stacking their plates and bowls to help clear the table, she brushed his hands away. "You go take your shower," she said, and carried the dirty dishes to the sink. "Since you made dinner, the least I can do is clean up the kitchen."

"You won't get an argument out of me." He put his hands up and took a step back. "Cleaning up the mess is the worst part."

He headed out of the kitchen, and she filled the sink with hot, soapy water so she could hand wash the dishes, along with the pot and frying pan Joel had used. She wiped down the table and counters, and put away the leftover butter and cheese into the refrigerator, then went into the living room.

Joel must have thrown a few more logs on the grate, because the fire was burning bigger and brighter than it had been when she'd come out of the bathroom earlier. She was grateful for the warmth, considering how windy, cold, and wet it was outside.

While Joel took his shower, Lora searched the bedroom closets for extra blankets and brought them, and pillows, out to the living room. She spread out a soft, cushy comforter in front of the fireplace, and added the pillows and covers. Then she went to her duffel bag and retrieved a last-minute item she'd decided to bring along right before they'd left her apartment.

When Joel came out of the shower and saw the makeshift bed she'd created on the floor, he glanced at her curiously. "What's all this?"

He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants, and nothing else. His magnificent chest was bare, the golden glow from the fire giving his skin a smooth, tawny hue, and she couldn't wait to get her hands on him. "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" He came around the couch to where she was sitting on the comforter, his interest definitely piqued. "What is it?"

"Well, I packed some of my massage oil… you know, just in case." Suddenly uncertain of how he'd react to the offer, and wanting to make sure he knew it came with no sexual strings attached, she added in a light, teasing tone, "I thought I'd give you a nice, relaxing massage, free of charge, of course, I wouldn't want to lose my touch as a masseuse while I'm not working." She reached for the bottle that she'd put on the coffee table, which contained a rich, orange-scented body oil.

"I doubt that would ever happen." He came down to his knees in front of her and plucked the bottle from her hand. "How about I give you a massage?"

The offer surprised her. "It's okay, I don't mind being the giver."

"Neither do I." His coaxing grin was difficult to resist. "Besides, when was the last time someone did something for you?"

She thought about that for a moment, and came up blank. "Honestly, I can't remember."

"That's because you're too busy taking care of everyone around you, or worrying about them," he said so softly, so knowingly, she felt her throat tighten with emotion.

"I always have," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "That's just the way it's always been for me." Not necessarily by choice, but circumstances had dictated that she be responsible for so many things at such an early age, and those traits had spilled over into other areas of her life. Now it was just a part of who she was, and something that came naturally and without thought.

"But what about you, Lora?" He tipped his head, his gaze gentle, yet direct. "Who takes care of you?"

"Me." The reply was automatic, and truthful. "Don't worry, I've gotten used to it being that way."

He reached out and caressed his thumb along her jaw, and she turned her head ever so slightly into his warm, soothing touch. "Let me take care of you tonight," he said huskily. "Just relax and let me make you feel good, okay?"

The offer, coming from him, was inviting. So was the thought of having his large, strong hands massaging her tired and overworked body. For her, denying herself that kind of pleasure when she knew her time with Joel was so limited just wasn't an option. "Okay."

Since she hadn't put on a bra after her shower, she turned and pulled off her top, then started to lay down on the covers so he could work on her back, but he gently grabbed her arm before she could stretch out on her stomach.

"Not yet," he said with a shake of his head, even as the beginning of a wicked smile curved his sensual lips. "You need to ditch your sweatpants and panties, too, since this is going to be a full body massage."

Heat shot straight to her belly, the anticipation of what he intended to do blending into an exquisite shiver. He was the one setting the tone for the evening, and she decided to follow his lead… and willingly go wherever he decided to take her.

She stripped off the rest of her clothes as he'd requested. The fire cascading over her naked body was nice and warm, but his gaze as it raked down the length of her was even hotter. Her breasts swelled beneath his stare, her nipples tightened to the point of near pain, and a liquid kind of heat settled between her thighs.

"Now you can lay down," he said, his voice sounding like pure gravel.

She settled facedown on the comforter and bent her arms comfortably above her head. She heard him shifting and moving beside her, then he straddled her hips with his legs and rested his very bare butt on hers, startling her with that surprise. As he leaned over her and poured some of the oil down the line of her back, she could feel the heavy heat of his sex against the crease of her buttocks, and her desire for him increased.

She closed her eyes, inhaled a deep breath, and let it out real slow, trying her best to ignore the erotic thoughts drifting through her mind. Another long, slow breath as she forced herself to relax and enjoy this rare experience, which wasn't an easy feat when she was at the mercy of the naked, aroused man gently pinning her down to the soft covers.

But then those incredible hands of his, slick with the fragrant oil, began massaging her tense shoulders, and the only thing she could think of was how good it felt having someone pamper her for a change. He kneaded the knots in her neck, which she hadn't even realized were there before now, and rubbed the flat of his palm along the tendons bisecting her spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her groan with the sheer pleasure of it. He used his thumbs to dig into taut muscles, and soothed those sore spots with the firm stroke of his fingers.

He worked the entire expanse of her back, from the nape of her neck all the way down to where he was sitting astride her hips, then back up. Over and over and over again, until her body went slack and she felt absolutely, positively boneless.

He moved off of her, and seconds later he started in on her legs, his oiled hands giving the same luxurious treatment to her calves and thighs. Rubbing, kneading, stroking tendons and muscles. His palms glided higher with each sensual caress, until his fingers brushed along the crease that lead to softer, hotter flesh.

She instinctively parted her legs so he could touch her intimately and appease the sweet ache he'd created, and he didn't hesitate to drag his fingers along her cleft, then push them deep, deep inside her body. She moaned and arched her hips, then gasped when he bent over her from behind and touched his mouth to the base of her spine where she was ultra-sensitive. His hot breath fanned her skin, and the evening stubble on his jaw rasped across her lower back, right before he licked her there. The combination of sensations was so erotic and arousing she felt the answering pull all the way to the very core of her, causing her inner muscles to clench around his fingers.

He groaned, too, and did it again, a slow, lazy sweep of his tongue right where her vertebrae ended and the curve of her butt began, while his fingers pumped rhythmically inside her. She curled her hands into the covers and writhed restlessly beneath him as he drew out the decadent, breathtaking pleasure, until she was panting and straining and begging with the need to embrace the orgasm he was dangling just out of her reach.

Ignoring her soft pleas for release, he continued to build the tension within her to dizzying heights as he trailed hot, moist, nibbling kisses over her bottom, which only added to the frenzy of sensations. Just when she thought she couldn't take his teasing any longer, he finally, blessedly, sent her spiraling over the edge.

With a soft, breathy cry, she came in long, hard shudders that seemed to go on forever. The orgasm was so strong and intense, her body seemed to become one endless wave of euphoric bliss that left her physically spent. Between the massage and the orgasm, she felt as though she'd died and gone to heaven.

Sated and content, she could have drifted right off to sleep, but Joel gently rolled her over onto her back. Hooking his fingers behind her knees, he bent her legs, spread them apart, then knelt in between. She glanced up at him with an appreciative smile, and one look at his fierce expression, along with his tight jaw and those hot blue eyes of his, was enough to warn her that he wasn't nearly close to being done with her. Lower, between his thighs and beside that warrior's scar marring his leg, his erection jutted out, thick and hard, the tip seeping with slick moisture and need.

And that quickly, that easily, her desire for him returned like a bright internal flame.

He brought his hands down next to her hips and lowered his head to scatter more of those soft, tantalizing kisses along her belly, her ribs, to her swollen, aching breasts. She threaded her fingers through his silky hair and sighed as he laved a nipple with his tongue, then drew the tip deep into his mouth and sucked while one of his hands cupped her other breast and his fingers plucked at the stiff peak.

His lips continued their upward journey. His tongue slid across her collarbone, and he nibbled at her shoulder before nudging her chin up so he could nuzzle and kiss her neck. He lowered his hips to hers, and she felt the head of his shaft glide along her soft, dewy flesh, then prod the entrance to her body, just enough to tease, but not fully penetrate-though Lord knew she was wet and ready for him.

His chest brushed across her tender nipples as he settled more fully over her, his arms now braced next to her shoulders. The feel of his naked body on hers was a warm, extravagant luxury she knew she'd never tire of.

His mouth reached her ear, and he was breathing hard and fast. "God, I want you," he said raggedly, as if she were something he'd never be able to have. Not in the way that mattered the most.

But she knew she already belonged to him-her body, her heart, and even the very depths of her soul. But he had to believe it for himself, and accept that he was worthy of her unconditional love. That was something she couldn't force upon him.

Tangling the strands of his hair in her fingers, she lifted his head, so he had no choice but to look down at her and see the sincerity in her eyes, and the emotion she knew was reflected in her expression. "Then take me, Joel," she whispered. "I'm all yours."

His eyes darkened as he oh-so-slowly pushed into her, his gaze turning hot and hungry as her body closed tightly around him and welcomed him home. He pulled out of her slightly, dragging the length of his cock against her still-sensitive flesh, as if he was trying to make the moment, and the pleasure, last. He groaned and shuddered, then thrust back in, harder and farther this time, causing her to gasp and arch beneath him.

And still, it wasn't enough. She wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs, urging him deeper. "I want more." she murmured huskily. "I want all of you." She wanted everything he had to give-physically and emotionally.

With a low, rumbling growl that reverberated in his chest, he sank back in, withdrew, and surged back again, his strokes lengthening, his pumping hips gaining momentum. Gone were any attempts to hold back. Instead, his thrusts grew urgent and demanding, and wholly primal. Friction, pressure, and heat fused together in a tangle of sensation, until her entire being focused on the connection of their bodies and the impatient, restless need swelling within her.

Framing her face in his hands, he seized her mouth with his, as if his next breath of air could only come from her. His kiss was deep and rapacious, and laced with a desperate kind of passion she could taste with every sweep of his tongue and feel in the aggressive way he possessed her body.

She slid her arms around him, flattened her hands on the firm, flexing muscles along his back, and held on for the tumultuous ride. Before long, he dragged his mouth from hers and stared down at her, his breathing shallow as his climax washed over him, through him. Eyes closed, he tossed his head back and arched against her hips, a helpless groan ripping from his throat as his flesh pulsed hot and hard inside of her and he shuddered from the sheer force of his orgasm.

When it was over, he collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the crook of her neck while his heart beat strong and steady against her breast. She closed her eyes and held him close, reveling in the quiet, tender moment while it lasted, and how perfect and right it felt being with Joel, in every way.

No other man, not even Brent, had ever made her feel this completeness, this kind of intimate connection, this stunning contentment. And when her time with Joel was over and they both went their separate ways, she instinctively knew that no man ever would again.

JOEL watched as another damp lock of black hair fell to the kitchen floor as Lora gave him a long overdue haircut. After he'd casually mentioned the need for a trim, she'd offered to do it for him. She'd found a pair of sharp-bladed shears in a kitchen drawer, told him to sit in one of the wooden chairs, and promptly went to work wetting his hair, then started cutting the length and bulk around his head.

A haircut definitely helped to pass the time. Joel had woken up extra early that morning, and had showered and changed and made coffee before Lora had roused herself from the makeshift bed on the floor a few hours later. He had no idea when or if Zach would show up, but according to the message Joel had left for him, today was the day he'd set up for the meeting between brother and sister.

It had been a waiting game all day long, made more frustrating as each hour passed without a sign of Zach. And now, considering it was past six in the evening, chances were that Lora's brother was going to be a no-show.

But despite Zach's lack of consideration when it came to his sister, it was clear to Joel that Lora had needed this time away. She was so much more relaxed than she'd been a few days ago, and for that reason alone Joel was glad he'd made the decision to take her out of the city, away from the stress of her everyday life and the threat still lurking out there somewhere.

Because it had been cold, windy, and rainy throughout the day, they'd stayed indoors, but Lora didn't seem to mind the seclusion. She'd finished reading the book she'd started yesterday, then took a nap, and when she woke up feeling rested and refreshed, she'd challenged him to a game of Scrabble she'd found in the hall closet.

He learned that Lora was very competitive and loved a good challenge. They laughed and teased one another over some of the ridiculous words they each spelled, and she argued passionately when she believed he'd made up a word just to use up his tiles and gain points. Usually, she was right.

It was so easy to be with Lora. So comfortable and enjoyable on so many levels. And even though the awareness had simmered between them all afternoon, she didn't pursue it, didn't try and seduce him again. It was as if she'd known that last night would be the final time that they would make love, and accepted, even respected, that knowledge.

Another thick strand dropped onto his thigh, and he grimaced, wondering if he was going to have any hair left by the time she was done. "I feel like I'm back in boot camp getting my first military cut."

Her fingers combed through the top of his hair, then snipped off another portion. "Your hair was this long when you joined the Marines?"

"Yeah, pretty much." She came around to stand in front of him, between his spread legs, to finish trimming the sides, and it was all he could do not to groan at the sight of her breasts beneath her long-sleeved thermal top, just inches away from his face. "It's just one of those things I don't hassle with until I absolutely have to."

"You were definitely overdue for a haircut," she said with a smile in her voice. "And I promise not to cut it too short so you don't feel like a jarhead again, but it already looks and feels much better."

He grinned at the use of the military term. "Did you learn that lingo from Zach?"

She ruffled her fingers through his hair and sent more snipped strands falling all around him before cutting the longer length off the back. "Yeah. Right after he joined the Marines, when he was calling me on a regular basis before he shipped off to Iraq, he'd always complain about the haircut the barbers gave him, and how he looked like a jarhead."

"Yeah, that's about right," Joel said with a chuckle. "It's far from a stylish haircut, but I have to tell you, when it's one hundred and twenty plus degrees in Iraq during the summer, the less hair you have on your head, the better."

She was quiet for a few moments as she continued to cut and trim, then finally she spoke. "Joel, there's something I've been wanting to ask you."

"Okay." Her comment made him both curious and wary, because he had no idea what was currently going through that mind of hers.

She came around to stand in front of him again and met his gaze, the scissors no longer active. "The night I was attacked behind the bar, after Zach called and you told me about what he'd done with the insurance policy and how he'd asked you to watch over me, you said something about owing Zach for saving your life in Iraq. What did you mean by that?"

He easily recalled that conversation, and he also remembered how he'd brushed off her question in favor of more important issues. Then there had been the time at the spa when she'd been giving him a massage and had asked about the scar on his leg, and he'd managed to evade the discussion there, too, and Zach's involvement in that harrowing mission.

"Why does it matter?" he asked gruffly.

"I guess I'm trying to understand my brother a little better," she said with a small shrug of her shoulder. Obviously done cutting his hair, she set the scissors on the table, then went to the sink to wash her hands. "I mean, if he's capable of saving someone's life, there has to be some good in him, right?"

Ah, hell. As much as he wanted to wring Zach's neck for what he'd done to his own sister, and how he was wasting his own life with booze and gambling, Joel could see that Lora was desperate to believe something positive about her brother. To know that, despite putting her life in jeopardy for his addictions, Zach wasn't as damaged and corrupt as he seemed.

As Joel stared into her soft green eyes, he decided that it was time to tell her about what had happened, to let her know just what kind of man her brother had been, and still had the potential to be. Joel firmly believed that with the right kind of help for his addictions, and with the support of his sister and friends, Zach had the ability to recover and be a man with integrity, honor, and a sense of right and wrong.

"He was a real good man, Lora," he said, his voice ringing with sincerity and truth. "And he was someone I was damn glad to have watching my back during our missions." Especially the one that nearly cost Joel his life.

"Tell me about it," she beckoned once again. She leaned against the counter behind her and crossed her arms over her chest. "Please?"

He exhaled a deep breath. Joel hated taking that particular trip down memory lane, but for Lora, he knew he'd do it.

With effort, he mentally put himself back into the situation and tried to make the story as succinct as possible.

"Our unit was on its way to conduct a search operation of a known terrorist ring in east Baghdad, when a young boy came running up to our Humvee, which is never a good sign. Three of us jumped off the vehicle, including Zach, to assess the situation and make sure the boy wasn't part of some suicide attack, and that's when one of the Humvees in our convoy was hit by a roadside bomb, followed by an immediate insurgent attack."

He combed his fingers through his now-short hair, which felt odd after months of dealing with the unruly, longer strands. "I was hit by a piece of shrapnel in my right thigh, and just as the guys in our unit started taking cover where they could, another blast went off nearby, which knocked me on my ass."

He watched as Lora pressed her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide with horror as she listened to his grim tale. "I ended up in the middle of the road, without any protection, and gunfire going off all around me from both sides," he went on as his hand absently rubbed at the scar on his thigh. "I tried to get up, but my right leg kept giving out on me, and just when I thought I was as good as dead, your brother ran back out into the open fire while the other guys covered him the best they could. He grabbed me beneath my arms and literally dragged me back behind one of the Humvees, where it was relatively safe."

"God, Joel," she said, her voice hoarse. "I had no idea."

Most American civilians never knew just how bad things could get in Iraq, that every day for someone in the military could be their last. Joel never took for granted just how lucky he'd been to get out of that attack alive.

"It could have been much worse," he said, eternally grateful that his injury hadn't been life threatening. "I could have died like a few other of our men did that day, and I have Zach to thank for saving me."

There was no doubt in Joel's mind that if it hadn't been for Zach's bravery and spontaneous rescue, he would have ended up dead, too. But it was that tight band-of-brothers mentality that always had men risking their own lives to save others. Like one of their guys who'd thrown himself on top of a grenade during another mission in order to save the entire group. That had been just one of the many devastating acts of courage that Joel and Zach and his other comrades had witnessed.

"That's the kind of shit we dealt with, Lora, every single day," he continued. "And it takes men who are loyal and you trust implicitly to watch your back and do the unthinkable if necessary. And that's exactly the kind of marine and man that Zach was."

"Then what happened to him, Joel?" Lora's gaze was troubled and her voice trembled when she spoke. "What made that loyal, trustworthy man turn on his own sister?"

Her emotional turmoil was nearly tangible, and it twisted in Joel's gut like a knife. In no way did Joel absolve Zach of the mistakes he'd made over the past few years with his life and his sister's, but he tried to make Lora understand things from a military perspective.

"The war, and seeing the worst in humanity, and witnessing some of your good friends dying right in front of your eyes without any way of saving them, is enough to send anyone off the deep end." Leaning forward in his chair, he clasped his hands between his spread knees, his gaze holding hers as he recounted some of those situations. "There's a lot of pain involved in war, and not all of it is physical. There's guilt and remorse and regrets for things you should have done, or things you could have done differently. There's the anguish of watching innocent people die, and the guilt of not being able to save an eighteen-year-old fresh out of boot camp who ends up getting killed in the line of fire."

Joel did his best not to dwell on the ugly, tragic aspects of the war, but he knew that some people had a tougher time blending back into civilian life than others. Like Zach. Then there were the too-high statistics of depression and suicide that had afflicted some veterans of Iraq once they returned home from the war.

"Everyone deals with that emotional upheaval in different ways," he said, and he highly suspected that Zach had some form of combat post-traumatic stress disorder, which would explain a lot of his choices and actions since being discharged. "For Zach, maybe it's the gambling and drinking that keeps him from remembering and dealing with what he'd endured. But those addictions are just a temporary Band-Aid for the real underlying issues and problems he needs to work through."

She nodded in understanding, then tipped her head, regarding him in a speculative way that made him uncomfortable. "What about you, Joel? How did you deal with what you saw on a daily basis?"

He shrugged more casually than he felt inside. "Honestly, I try not to think about it, or the split-second choices I had to make." Because if he did, he knew he'd go insane and allow the mental distress of some of those wrong choices to lead him down a destructive path, much in the way that Zach had gone. "I keep myself busy with work and don't dwell on the past." And he kept himself emotionally detached, too. That part came easily. Since his mother's death, other than Mia, he'd managed to distance himself from everyone else in his life.

Not wanting to dredge up any more of the past or his time in the war, he stood up and brushed off the bigger chunks of hair still on his shirt and jeans. "If you'll get me the broom and dustpan from that closet over there, I'll get this mess cleaned up."

Knowing by his change of subject that they were done talking about Zach and the war, she pushed away from the counter and went to retrieve the items he'd requested. "Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll do this."

Considering that the smaller hairs that had found their way down his shirt in the back were starting to make him itchy, he wasn't about to argue. "Thanks."

She stopped him before he could exit the kitchen. "Joel?"

He turned back around. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for telling me," she said softly, gratefully. "I really hope that it's not too late to get Zach the help he needs after this is over. I don't want him living like this anymore."

He felt the same way. "You and me both."

As Joel headed to the bathroom, he knew that someone had to save Zach from himself before the other man got himself killed. And that person would most likely be Joel.