Wyatt's War

Chapter Nine

Wyatt checked with every guard at every entrance to the hotel, saving the front entrance and the parking lot in the basement for last. As he stepped out the lobby door, he spied Joe and Bacchus surrounded by two very elegant beauties dressed to the hilt in low-slung gowns displaying more flesh than the material they were made of covered.

Joe, dressed in tailored slacks, a black button-down shirt and black necktie, with his short hair and blue eyes, probably appealed to the opposite sex. Add the dog he was obviously attached to and he was a veritable chick magnet.

When Wyatt appeared at Joe’s side, the ladies’ attention shifted to him and the shiny medals on his chest. For a moment he wished he still wore the jeans and T-shirt he’d had on most of the day. These women did not interest him in the least. Normally, he’d flirt and maybe even take a number and one of or both of them to bed.

But his mind was back in the ballroom with a feisty redhead and he couldn’t wait to get back and maybe catch another dance with her. She moved like an angel on wings. Only she was as sexy as the devil.

“Are you here for the convention?” The tall blonde asked while her shorter, brunette friend smiled shyly at him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I went to the trouble to come to this little party.” The blonde walked her fingers up his chest to the shiny medals pinned to his jacket. “And what are all these pretty coins for?”

He grabbed her hand before she could put fingerprints all over the shiny medal. “Ma’am, I’m on duty.” Wyatt set her aside, gently but firmly.

“My apologies. My name is Brigitte.” The woman held out her hand as if to shake his.

Reluctantly he took hers and she deposited a keycard in his palm, leaned close and whispered, “Room two-eleven.”

“Ma’am, you don’t want to lose this.” He handed it back to her and stepped back.

When the blonde frowned and opened her mouth to say something, Joe loosened his grip on Bacchus’s lead and the dog pressed his nose to the woman’s crotch.

She squealed and jumped back. “Get that filthy creature away from me!”

“Sorry, ma’am. Bacchus, like some people, forgets his manners on occasion.”

Her cheeks reddened and she sputtered. “Well, I never.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Joe smiled. “I’m sure you never.”

The woman pulled herself up to her full height. “Come on, Meredith.”

The brunette giggled. “I seem to have dropped my lipstick tube. I’ll be with you in a minute, Brigitte.”

When Brigitte had gone into the hotel, Meredith smiled. “Bacchus is a rascal.” She bent to scratch the dog’s ears. “Or is it his master who’s the rascal?” She glanced up, her smile remaining firm, her brows raised in question.

Joe shrugged. “Can’t say. I don’t speak dog.”

Meredith winked. “I think you understand Bacchus better than you let on.” She held out her hand. He took it, tentatively. “Nice to meet you.”

Meredith grinned up at Wyatt and followed the blonde into the hotel.

Joe bent to pat Bacchus head. “He’s a better judge of character than most people.”

Wyatt laughed. “You can say that again.” He glanced at the brunette as she disappeared into the lobby. “You could have had her number by just asking.”

His friend shook his head. “Not sure I’m ready.”

Wyatt understood exactly what Joe was saying. “Do you think we’ll ever be ready again?”

Joe scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I hope so. That one caught my interest enough to think about it. I suppose that’s heading in the right direction.”

An image of Fiona standing naked in the shower flashed in Wyatt’s mind and he pushed it firmly back. “How’s it going out here?”

“So far so good. Only had to turn away one drunk and one salesman.”

Wyatt glanced around. “I thought Preston was going to man the front with you.”

“He only stuck around for the first hour. I haven’t seen him since. Said something about checking out the east entrance.”

“I was just there and didn’t see him.”

Joe touched his radio. “Try him on the box?”

Wyatt nodded. “Twice. No answer.”

Tapping the side of his handheld radio, Joe shook his head. “That’s the one thing we could count on in the army, good radios.”

“These aren’t bad. I tested them thoroughly earlier today, before Fiona issued them to us. They were working fine then and they have fresh batteries.”

“Guess you’ll have to find him without technology.” Joe jerked his head toward the door. “How’s it going inside?”

“So far no major incidents.”

“I caught a glimpse of Fiona.” Joe’s mouth quirked at the corners. “Just tell me you’re not interested and I’ll be all over her like a dog on a bone.”

Wyatt’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed in a glare. “I thought you weren’t ready for a relationship?”

Joe raised his hands. “Just sayin’. She’s a looker, that one.”

Wyatt knew. She looked good in her evening gown with her hair piled high on her head. Fiona looked even better naked, wet and panting in the middle of hot and heavy sex.

His cock twitched and he had to remind himself not to get too stirred up while in uniform. His trousers were tailor-made with no pleats to allow for sudden expansion of parts farther south.

“Would love to be a fly on the wall in there. I hear there are several dignitaries not too proud to pick a fight.”

“You want to take a turn around the ballroom?” Wyatt asked, knowing the answer before he asked the question. Joe had a distinct aversion to formal events. The black slacks, shirt and tie were his only concessions to being strapped into a monkey suit for hours.

“Hell no. That kind of stuff gives me the willies.” Joe nodded toward Wyatt. “You trying to impress Fiona with that chest full of medals?”

Heat rose up Wyatt’s neck. “Not really. It was the closest thing I had to a tuxedo. And I only wear it once a year. Didn’t see spending good money on tuxedo rental.”

Joe shivered. “Can’t see how you wear it. Too confining for me. Reminds me of wearing flack vests in Fallujah. Couldn’t breathe in all that equipment, much less maneuver fast enough to keep from being shot.”

They’d been together in the fight to capture Fallujah, taking one building at a time. The tension had been palpable and they’d all been on their toes. This situation didn’t call for an enemy around every corner, but it had its moments of tension. Though nothing like what they’d experienced in Iraq or Afghanistan. And nothing at all like what he’d endured in Somalia. Yeah, it was good to be back in the States for a while.

Glancing around once more at the relative calm of the activities at the entrance, Wyatt nodded. “I’m going to find Preston, then I’m headed back into the ballroom.”

“Better you than me and Bacchus. Although Bacchus likes the music.” Joe’s lips twisted. “When someone leaves the door open long enough, his tail starts twitching to the beat.”

As if on cue, a guest passed through the entrance and paused. The music from the ballroom drifted out to where they stood and Bacchus’s tail swished back and forth in rhythm.

A brief smile slipped across Wyatt’s face. He was glad his buddy Joe had Bacchus and his dog training business. Without it, he’d have fallen victim to PTSD, alcohol and possibly drug addiction.

For once, Wyatt was really happy to be in San Antonio instead of back in Somalia. And he realized much of his relief was due to his focus on Fiona. He was also glad that the danger here seemed limited to cat fights between delegates, versus hard to find and uproot Somali militants and Al-Qaeda terrorists.

Ducking back through the front door, he headed for the elevator, stepped in and punched the down button for the parking garage, the last place he planned to check anyway. Perhaps Preston was making his rounds and had ended up there.

When Wyatt stepped out of the elevator into the echoing, concrete walls of the parking garage, he was struck first by the lack of a guard on the elevator. His instincts perked and he loosened the button on his jacket to make it easier for him to reach for the gun nestled in the shoulder holster beneath.

There were two sub-levels to the parking garage. As he moved through the bays filled with vehicles, he didn’t spot even one guest. But something strange caught his attention on one of the concrete support pillars in a dark corner of the garage. A flashing red light blinked at him. As he neared it, he noted the creamy white clay-like substance, wrapped in black electrical tape, a mechanical box settled in the middle with wires poking out of it.

Wyatt’s gut clenched. He knew exactly what it was, having worked with it on many operations in Iraq, Afghanistan and Somalia.

C-4 explosives equipped to be remotely detonated.

Not knowing how many of the devices there could be in the building or when whoever had set them planned to detonate, he did the only thing he could think of, and yanked the wires out of the detonator, disabling the unit.

He got on his radio. “Joe, we have a problem.”

“Tell me,” Joe responded.

“C-4 in the parking garage, wired for remote detonation. I think Preston set them.”

“Fuck. I’ll start the evacuation up here. You better get out while you can.”

“Make it quiet. If Preston is still down here, he has a detonator. I don’t want him alerted that we’re on to him.” Wyatt’s jaw hardened. Why hadn’t Preston set off the explosions? The man had issues. Perhaps he could be talked out of destroying the hotel and the people in it. “I’m going to see if I can stop this.”

“Wyatt, this world doesn’t need another hero.”

“Just get them all out. And make sure Fiona is one of those evacuated, will ya?”

“Got it. Once the evacuation is underway, I’ll bring Bacchus down. He’s trained to sniff out C-4.”

“Deal.”

His heart pounding against his ribs, Wyatt raced through the garage, spotting two more of the lumps of clay-like charges, pulling the detonators from those as well. He couldn’t be sure he had them all and in the meantime, he had to get the people out of the building.

A car had just pulled into a parking space and the driver got out, spotting Wyatt coming toward him, he asked, “Is the hotel for the International Trade Convention social?”

Wyatt hurried up to the driver. When he was close enough to whisper, he told him, “Get out of the garage. Now.”

“But we just got here,” the man replied. “Is something wrong?”

Wyatt snorted. He didn’t have time to stop and explain. “There are bombs planted all over this garage. If you want to live, get your date and get the hell out, quietly. The man responsible might still be down here.”

The woman in the passenger seat cried out, jerked the door open and got to her feet.

The man grabbed the woman’s hand and hustled her back out the ramp to the exit, hurrying her along in her high heels.

After disarming the charges he could find, Wyatt circled around the ramp heading into the bottom level of the parking garage. At first it appeared empty.

When he stepped out into the open, a shot rang out, nicking his arm. Wyatt dove behind a vehicle as another bang echoed against the walls.

“You can’t stop this,” a voice called out, one Wyatt recognized as Preston.

“Preston, whatever your issues are, we can get you help.” Wyatt moved to the opposite end of the vehicle and eased around it.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Wyatt dropped to his chest and peered beneath the chassis of the Cadillac he was using for cover. He spotted Preston’s legs moving toward the stairwell. “Try me, Preston. I’m listening.”

“It’s too late. I have to set these off before they evacuate.”

“No, you don’t. These people don’t have to die. There are always solutions. Give yourself a chance.”

“No. I’m done and all those people who’ve pretended to be our friends, the countries who say they’re on our side and then kill us every chance they get, tonight, they’ll know.”

“What will they know, Preston?” Wyatt worked his way around one car, then another.

“The world will know that they all lie. We try to help them and they kill us. They killed every one of the men in my unit. And we were fucking trying to help them.”

“Preston, I’ve been there,” Wyatt called out softly. “I’ve seen my friends die in a battle we seem destined to lose. If we don’t try, if we don’t keep fighting for right, they win.”

“That’s just it. They’ve already won. Our government is too stupid to figure it out, and they want to keep giving the enemy money, keep educating them and building their fucking buildings for them. It’s got to stop.”

“This isn’t the way to do it, Preston. Killing innocent people isn’t the way to stop them.”

“Maybe it’ll make our enemies think before coming to our country and pretending they’re on our side. I’m tired of diplomacy. It doesn’t work.”

While Preston had been talking, Wyatt worked his way around the ends of half a dozen cars. He could see Preston pushing more C-4 into place with the detonator already strapped to it.

Wyatt started to stand. A loud bang exploded close by and a bullet pinged off the car beside him.

“Get back, Magnus. I don’t have a beef with you. If you want to live, get out now.” He fired at him again and ran for the staircase.

Wyatt raced after him, but didn’t reach him before the door closed and a bullet fired into the lock disabled it. He couldn’t follow Preston using that route, so he ran to the elevator, and punched the up arrow, speaking into his handheld radio. “Joe.”

“Wyatt, where are you?”

The door opened and he stepped in. “Coming up from the garage. It is Preston. He’s got some bone to pick with foreign countries and has set C-4 charges in the parking garage. He got away from me and is headed up. I don’t know where. And he’s also armed and has already fired at me several times.”

“Damn. I should have known he was a loose cannon when Bacchus growled at him. Look, they’re taking all the delegates from the ballroom out into the side alley,” Joe informed him. “I’m at the front entrance, monitoring progress.”

“Do you have a visual on Fiona and Maddie?”

“I saw Maddie out front, but not Fiona.” Joe cut out for a moment. “Sorry, someone bumped into me. Place is crazy. But I’ll let you know when I see them.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Don’t worry, Magnus, I’ll keep an eye out for your girl.”

“Gotta go. I’m on my way up to the lobby.” Wyatt burst through the door into the richly carpeted reception area on the lobby level. Women dressed in ball gowns and men in tuxedos or black suits hurried toward the exit. Some of the hotel guests wore bathrobes and bedroom slippers as if they’d just gone to bed when the evacuation had begun.

Hotel staff apologized for the inconvenience as they assured the guests they’d get to the bottom of the problem as soon as possible, while they ushered them out the door.

A child whimpered, a man called out to his wife and everyone was talking at once. But all in all it was more of a controlled chaos with the mass of people moving steadily outside.

They just weren’t moving fast enough. If Preston set off the charges…

Wyatt exited through the side door, searching the crowd of faces for Fiona, the darkness and people standing around hampering his efforts.

His radio chirped and he held it to his mouth. “Find her?” he barked.

“No. She’s not out the front of the building, nor is she answering her radio. I’m headed around the side.”

“Fuck. I’m here on the side of the building. She’s not here either.”

Sirens sounded in the distance, headed their way.

Wyatt pushed his way back to the door. “I’m going back in.”

“The staff is blocking the exits, waiting for the fire department to arrive. They’re only allowing people out. No one is going in.”

“Bullshit.” When Wyatt reached the exit door he’d come out of, he tried the handle. It was locked.

Damn. He was turning toward the front of the building when the door opened and the man he recognized as the Brazilian delegate pushed through with a beautiful woman clinging to his arm, her makeup smeared from tears. She spoke in rapid Portuguese and a fresh round of tears erupted.

Wyatt dove for the door before it swung shut and reentered the hotel.

“Sir, no one is allowed back inside.”

“It’s okay, I’m head of the security staff,” Wyatt said.

“We were under strict instructions to get everyone out. The bomb squad is on its way. You can’t go inside.”

The man blocked Wyatt’s path.

His heartbeat hammering in his chest, every combat instinct sprang to life. Wyatt’s eyes narrowed and he had to remind himself the staff member was not his enemy. “Move out of my way, or I’ll move you out of my way. And trust me, you won’t like the way I move you.”

Something in the steely tone of his voice got through to the man because he stepped to the side. “You’re on your own, buddy. I’m not taking responsibility for your life if this building explodes.” The man pushed past him and exited through the door he’d been guarding.

Wyatt raced for the ballroom.

The room was empty, the picked-over tables of food standing as a reminder of the festivities that only a few minutes before had been underway. No one had stayed.

If she wasn’t out front or at the side entrance, where could Fiona have gone?

Surely she hadn’t tried to go up to their rooms or to one of the floors to help someone else get out of the hotel?

Someone had turned off the elevators. Wyatt headed for the stairwell and ran up the flights of stairs stopping at every floor to check the hallways. “Fiona!” he yelled. No one stirred on the first or second floors. When he reached the third floor, he hurried down the hallway to the room he’d shared with Fiona and swiped his key through the card reader.

She wasn’t in the bedroom or bathroom touching up her makeup. Nor was she in the hallway or at either entrance to the entire building. How had he missed her?

His pulse pounding, Wyatt ran back down to the lobby level and stood for a moment in the empty space. Even the hotel staff had left. The faint sound of emergency vehicles heralded the arrival of the fire department and police.

So far he didn’t smell any smoke and nothing had exploded. He didn’t like that the hotel guests had all been herded out into the open where any fool could take a shot at them. Including Preston. Hopefully, with police and firemen surrounding the area, nothing would happen to the guests. He prayed they all got out safely, Fiona with them. He’d only known her for a little more than twenty-four hours. From pulling her out of the river to making love to her twice to waltzing with her in his mess dress uniform, he’d packed a lot of getting to know her into the short time they’d been together. Damned if he didn’t like her drive, determination and gumption. Yeah, he liked her a lot. Too much to walk away, which would be the smartest thing to do for both him and her.

Maybe he’d consider leaving her, once he found her and was certain she was safely outside the building.

Where could she be? Wyatt closed his eyes for a moment and used a technique he’d used to find Al-Qaeda militants, by thinking like they’d think.

What would Fiona do? How would she think? As organized as she was, she’d have counted heads of her guests to ensure all had made it out safely. Then she would have checked for all her security personnel. The woman was almost obsessive about tying up all the loose strings. She wouldn’t rest until she had all her little chicks accounted for. In that case, she might be looking for him while he was looking for her.

He’d told her all the places he’d go to inspect. Logic dictated she’d look for him in those places, most of which he’d already covered since coming up from the garage. Could she have gone down while he’d been racing up? Damn. She’d be heading straight into the blast zone.

His eyes popped open and he ran for the closest staircase leading into the parking garage. When he reached first level, he shoved open the door and burst into the coolness.

A scream ripped through the air. Wyatt swung toward the sound, his gun drawn. That’s when he saw her.

Preston had Fiona, his arm around her neck, dragging her backward toward a van. “Stay back, Magnus, or I’ll hurt her.”

“Let her go, Preston. She’s not the problem.”

“Maybe not, but she’s my ticket out of here.”

“Put down the gun, Preston,” Fiona urged, her voice tight, constrained by the arm choking off the air to her vocal chords.

“No way. If I put it down, your boyfriend will shoot me.”

Fiona’s gaze met Wyatt’s. “Put your gun down, Wyatt,” she said. “Please.”

Wyatt hesitated. Preston had already shot at him. The man was on the edge and could easily blow a gasket. “I’m going to put my weapon down, Preston. Don’t shoot me and, be smart and don’t hurt the lady. She’s done nothing to hurt you or your buddies who died in the war.”

“I don’t want to hurt her, but I will if you do anything stupid.” Preston nodded. “Drop it and kick it toward me.”

Wyatt eased his arm down ever so slightly. Already Preston’s gun dipped and his arm seemed to loosen.

Fiona jabbed her elbow into Preston’s gut, slammed her high heel into his instep and ducked.

Wyatt yanked his weapon up and fired off a round at the same time as Preston.

Preston’s shot went wide, hitting the concrete wall behind Wyatt.

Wyatt’s shot flew true, crashing into Preston’s chest, knocking him backward onto his ass. Because Fiona had been leaning against him, when he fell, she fell with him. She landed hard, rolled to the side, snatched up Preston’s gun and turned before Wyatt could reach her.

She didn’t need it. Preston was dead, but he was very much a threat to them and everyone else in the building. The remote detonator device was still clutched in his hand, though the man lay with his eyes open, staring vacantly at the ceiling.

Wyatt eased the device from the man’s hand and laid it on the ground, gently, afraid if he left it in Preston’s hand, he might have a dying man’s muscle spasm and set off the explosives Wyatt hadn’t found.

When he rose, Fiona flung herself into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Thank God he didn’t hurt you.”

“Me?” Wyatt chuckled, loving the feel of her warm body against his and holding her like there would be no tomorrow. For the two of them, it had nearly been the truth.

In those few short minutes when Preston had held Fiona, threatening to kill her, all the doubts Wyatt had about a real relationship with a woman blew out of his mind and his thoughts had become crystal clear. He wanted the chance to get to know Fiona. Not just her incredible body, but the brave, slightly high-strung, incredibly smart and sassy woman who might not have lived to see the next day of her life had Preston succeeded in his plan to blow a hole in downtown San Antonio.

“I was so afraid for you,” he whispered against her hair, holding her so close he could feel her breath against his neck.

“I thought Preston had killed you or left you wounded somewhere.” She leaned back, tears trickling down her face. “You don’t know how happy I was to see you show up alive.”

“Ditto, sweetheart.” He crushed her lips with his, drawing the kiss out as long as they both had breath. When he finally raised his head, he cupped her cheeks in his palms. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

“It goes both ways, babe.” Her gaze traveled over him. “I’m so sorry your uniform got so messed up—Wyatt, you’re bleeding!” She tried to open his jacket, but he stopped her.

“I’m okay. The bullet only nicked me.”

“Yeah and you’re still bleeding.” She glanced down at Preston. “Is it true he was planning to blow up the building with everyone in it?”

Wyatt’s arm slipped around her waist. “Yes.”

Fiona glanced around the parking lot. “Are there charges positioned down here?”

“I got what I could find, but I’m not sure I got them all. We should get out of here, just in case.” Wyatt gripped her arm and led her toward the stairs.

Fiona dug her feet in, bringing him to a stop. “Are we going to leave him here?”

“There’s nothing we can do for him.”

She stared down at the man who’d tried to kill her and a lot of other people. “He must have been very unhappy.”

“I suspect PTSD.” His gaze captured hers. “It happens to the best of soldiers.”

She slipped an arm around Wyatt’s waist. “And that’s why you don’t want to stay.” Her words were a statement, not a question. “But you know, it doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to leave.”

“I can’t put you in harm’s way. Especially if the harm is in me.”

“But you can’t run from it. Wouldn’t you be better off working through your issues with someone who cares than going it alone?” She smiled. “Joe seems to have recovered nicely with his friend, Bacchus.”

“Are you volunteering to be my pet dog?” Wyatt grinned. “Sorry. Although you can wield a pretty wicked puppy-dog stare, you’re not a dog.” Gripping her hips, he pulled her against the hardness of his cock, straining against the fabric of his trousers. “You’re one hundred percent woman and what you did tonight was purely heroic.”

Color flew like pink flags in her cheeks. “No more than you did. Come on. Let’s get out of here. I have to get back to the guests before we have another international incident.” She poked a finger in his chest. “But you’re not off the hook, so don’t go disappearing on me. And we’re going to have the medical personnel look at that wound, whether you think you need it or not.”

Using his good arm, Wyatt popped a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Fiona sniffed and gave him a satisfied nod. “Let’s go, mister.”

A chuckle rose up his throat and escaped, echoing off the walls of the stairwell, all the way up to the ground floor.

Wyatt couldn’t believe his good luck getting to Preston before he could blow up the building, and to Fiona before Preston could kill her. Today just wasn’t their day to die.

Early the next morning, after answering hundreds of questions for the police and then helping to coordinate the relocation of all the guests to other hotels throughout the city of San Antonio, Fiona lay naked in the bed in her apartment, exhausted, but too wound up to fall to sleep.

“I asked my commander to put me in for a training assignment at Fort Sam Houston, at least for the next six months.” Wyatt emerged from the bathroom, strutting across the carpet naked from his toes to his very short haircut.

“And?” Fiona leaned up, her eyes wide, her breath hitched, waiting for his response.

“He gave me three months.”

She fell back against the pillows. “Is that all?”

With a nod, he dropped onto the sheets beside her and stretched his long body out, pulling hers against him, his cock nudging her sex. “If you’d known how hard I pushed him to get out of here, you’d understand why that was a big concession on his part.”

“And now?” Fiona kissed his beard-stubbled chin. “You don’t want to leave so soon?”

He bent to nuzzle the pulse beating at the base of her throat. “Not so much. I’ve barely had time to get to know San Antonio.”

She swatted at his uninjured arm, happy that he’d been correct that the bullet wound had only been superficial. Although it had ruined his uniform jacket. “Only San Antonio?”

“Oh yeah. And one hot, little redhead with a wicked elbow jab.” He cupped her chin and kissed her, urging her to part her teeth and let him slide in to caress her tongue with his.

Fiona was amazed that such a big, rough man could be so gentle. All hard angles and scars, he knew exactly what to say and where to touch her to make her body sing.

When he ended the kiss, his finger trailed down her arm until his palm caressed her hip. “Are you sure about this…you and me…all night?” He let go of a long breath. “What if my nightmares get violent? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Fiona leaned up on her elbow. “Positive. I’ll take my chances, since the rewards outweigh the danger.” She drew her finger down his chest. “And I know, deep down in that soldier’s heart of yours, that you’re a good man.”

“I can’t control my dreams.”

“Then I’ll help you. I’m a light sleeper anyway and if you get restless, I’ll move.”

“Promise me you will.” His finger tightened on her hips. “I could never forgive myself if I hurt you.”

She smiled down at him and ran her hand along his rough beard. “I won’t let you hurt me, so stop worrying and start loving me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He rolled her onto her back and came up over her. “How about I begin my attack here?” Dropping low, he captured one of her nipples between his teeth and nibbled gently before sucking it fully into his mouth.

Fiona’s heart swelled and she arched up to offer him the full benefit of her breast. “Now you’re talking.”

He didn’t stop there, working his lips and tongued over the other breast before skimming across her ribs and lower to the mound of curls covering her sex. Pausing there, he parted her folds with the tips of his rough fingers and blew a warm stream of air over her heated center.

Too impatient to wait for it, Fiona gripped his ears and urged him down.

He settled between her legs and thrust his tongue into her channel, swirling around before coming up to lay siege to her clit.

Fiona cried out and surrendered to his attack, digging her heels into the mattress and rising up to press her pussy into his mouth.

One finger, then two and finally three entered her channel, another poked at the tight entrance to her anus. With his tongue teasing the nubbin packed full of exquisitely throbbing nerves, she shot to the heavens, screaming out his name. “Wyatt!”

His relentless pursuit wore away her will to live in a world without him and she rode the passionate wave to the pulsing end.

When she thought it couldn’t get any better, he climbed up her body, rolled on a condom and thrust his thickened shaft into her, sliding through her slick entrance until his balls bumped against her ass.

“Oh yes!” she shouted, not caring whether or not the neighbors could hear her.

The mattress bounced, the springs squeaked and the headboard rammed the wall more than once before they reached a shared climax to beat all climaxes and slowly drifted back to earth.

Without breaking their connection, he pulled her into his arms and held her.

Fiona trailed a finger across his chest, tweaking the hard brown nipples, loving how solid his chest felt beneath her fingertips. She tipped his chin down and brushed her lips across his.

“Umm. I could go for more of this.” Capturing his cheeks in between her palms, she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue along the length of his, her thigh climbing up over his. “Got another condom?”

“Hell yeah.” He rolled on another in record time.

She pressed her pussy down over his shaft, stirring him back to full thickness.

Wyatt laughed, his chest rumbling beneath hers. “All this because of a perky pair of pink shorts.” Then he flipped her onto her back and thrust deep into her.

Fiona wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his ass, urging him to fuck harder, faster and longer. Her breath caught and she held it as she shot over the top, her senses cascading around her in tingling electrical bursts.

Wyatt slammed home one last time and held steady, his jaw tight, his dick pulsing inside her. When he dropped back down to the mattress beside her, he flung an arm over his face. “That was fucking amazing.”

“I thought so.” With a smile on her face, she snuggled up to his side, draping her hand across his middle, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Content to lie there in silence, she pressed her lips to his closest nipple, noting the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Wyatt had fallen asleep.

Well into the morning, Fiona lay awake, waiting for soldier’s nightmares.

They never came. Wyatt slept through without twitching, calling out or trying to choke her. With daylight edging around the corners of the blinds, Fiona let herself drift into a half-dream, half-awake state, more determined than ever and confident that with a little care and a lot of love, she could help declare a victory in Wyatt’s War.