“Does it? Because it fucking doesn’t to me.”
The long hours he worked would leave him little time for sleep. She remembered none of the beds had been slept in, and the armchair was in an odd place in the living room with the shotgun and box of shells close at hand. “You aren’t sleeping, are you?”
He shook his head. “Not much.”
Kit said he’d been having nightmares, but these hallucinations were day terrors. “After my parents’ death, when I first moved in with my grandparents, I had a lot of nightmares. My grandfather said my mind was trying to tell me something, a message that I was not allowing myself to hear when I was awake. He said we have nightmares because there’s something going on inside of us that we don’t want to face so we close ourselves off from it-but when we do, it stalks us in our sleep. Were you given sleep meds at the hospital?”
“I was, but I quit taking them when they discharged me. Left me too hung-over to function in the morning.”
“And then these hallucinations kicked in when you quit sleeping?” Again, he nodded. “Rocco, it’s your same nightmare, but now it’s a waking one. You’re trying to tell yourself something, but you’re not listening.” He looked at the wall behind her. “What happened in that explosion?”
“I don’t remember.”
Mandy studied him. “How were you injured in the explosion?”
“I don’t know. I blacked out.”
“You have to try to remember that day, remember the explosion.”
“No.”
“This won’t stop until you do.”
He looked down at her. Tension distorted his face, like a cable drawn too tight. “I’m going back to Cheyenne. You don’t need to deal with this crap.”
She sat back on her haunches. Her hands were still on his knees. He’d stopped jiggling his legs, and his breathing had calmed, but his eyes were still wild.
“Good,” she agreed with his decision. “Do that. Because this war injury is shameful and should be hidden. You should have to deal with it alone.”
Anger flashed across his eyes at her sarcasm. He stood and lifted her in one smooth movement, pinning her against the wall, his hands under her armpits. She could barely touch the floor with her toes.
“I’m out of my fucking mind. What if I hurt you? What if I black out, mistake you for the enemy?”
Mandy set her palms against his cheeks, willing him to look at her. “Have you ever mistaken a friendly for an enemy?”
No, he hadn’t. But he’d mistaken an enemy for a friendly, an error that had cost his second child’s life and had put Zaviyar in so much danger. “When I flashback, I lose track of myself. I’m not aware of what I do.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“
“Rocco, I don’t want you to go. I think this is where you need to be.”
He stared at her. He looked at the hold he had her in-if he needed more proof, he had it right there. Shaking his head, he eased her to her feet and pressed his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head. His towels had dropped away when he stood up. His penis leaned against her belly, a hard rod throbbing to life. The feel of her body against the head of his cock sent a shiver through him.
She lowered her hands from his face to his chest and rubbed in small circles. “Please. Stay. Strangers won’t understand you. They will make things worse. And Kit will be here soon, I know it. He’ll be able to help, too. And you said Ty’s coming home. This is where you need to be.”
He sighed and slowly lowered his forehead to hers. His nose was next to hers. She could feel his breath on her mouth. “I’ll stay. For a while. Unless this gets worse.” He pulled back to look at her. His face was shuttered. He wasn’t letting her in and he wasn’t letting himself out. It was her luck, Mandy thought, to have a man she could be crazy about walk into her life, only to have him walk right back out again. She lowered her gaze to stare blindly at the light furring of dark hairs on his chest. Tears spilled down her face. She didn’t want him to leave. Ever. But it didn’t matter. Clearly, she wasn’t enough of a reason for him to stay.
Rocco swiped his thumbs across her cheeks. Her tears robbed him of words. He pulled her against his chest, holding his arms loosely around her. Her arms wrapped about his ribs, her hands flat on his back, her face pressed into his chest. He tightened his hold about her. He could feel the slippery moisture of her tears on his skin, feel the cool pull of her breath.
His dick was throbbing, alive, aware of her in a way he tried futilely to ignore. He tried to calm the deep breaths he drew, but every slight movement he made brought his body in contact with Mandy’s in new and exciting ways.
If he didn’t pull away now, he would be lost. There was nothing gentle in the way he desired her.
Mandy’s hands eased around his sides, moved up over his chest. Her tears had stopped-for that, he was grateful. Her lips pressed against his sternum. Her tongue, hot and moist, tracked up, then across his collarbone. She lifted her face to his neck. He kissed her temple, drew the sweet scent of her hair into his lungs. She smelled like Mandy, not Kadisha. His relief was intense. Grounding.
His hands cupped her shoulder blades as he drew her up against himself. He kissed her cheek, followed the line of her jaw to her lips, and there he paused. “Tell me you want this as much as I do. I want you to be sure about this. Very shortly, I won’t be able to stop.”
She smiled against his lips, and breathed, “I want this.”
He nodded. “Good.” He felt a wave of possessiveness-something he had no right to feel. She was not his forever, only his for now, this moment. He eased her down to her feet and stepped back. Fishing through his shaving kit, he found a couple packs of rubbers. He ripped one open and slipped it down over his cock, which helpfully, was standing at a rigid right angle to his body.
Mandy watched him. She licked her lower lip. Her eyes met his, green eyes gone black with desire. He reached into the shower and shut off the water, which had long since turned cold. He pulled the shower door shut. Lifting her hands, he pressed one to the grip on the shower door, the other to the towel bar on her other side. “For support,” he said, grinning.
He parted the damp sheath of her babydoll top. His fingers stroked the velvety softness of her belly, his hands dark against the paleness of her skin. “You are beautiful.” And she was-amazingly, breathtakingly beautiful. He traced the top edges of her bodice. Satiny cups covered her breasts. He ached to pull them down, to reveal what they covered. He pushed his dick downward, between her tight thighs, rubbing himself between her legs, against her panties.
He kissed her neck, moving down to the curve of her shoulder and slowly back up. His lips paused over the pulsing vein in her neck, feeling her frenetic heartbeat. His mouth touched hers, hovering briefly, lips to lips, letting her acclimate to him before he moved across her lips, drawing her mouth open with his. His tongue slipped into the sweet darkness of her mouth even as his dick pressed between her legs.
She moaned. Her tongue touched his, rubbing, pressing. He drew the backs of his fingers down her shoulders, over the upward swell of her breasts, then eased the fabric of her bodice down, dragging it beneath her breasts. Pulling back, he looked at her bared skin. Her dusky nipples were puckered. He rubbed his open palms against the sensitive nubs. Around. Up and down. She held tightly to the bars where he’d placed her hands as he cupped a breast and suckled on the peaked nipple. She gasped, arching into him. His cock jerked in response. Christ. He could come just sucking on her. He rolled her wet nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he moved to her other breast.
He felt the ragged breath she drew, responded by drawing a long draw of air through his teeth as his tongue flicked her tight nipple.
“Please-” she begged.
“Please what?”
“Please end this.”
He grinned. His fingers left her nipples, easing down to her hips. He went to his knees, hooked his thumbs in her panties, and drew them slowly down her lean legs. He kissed her belly button, her hipbone. “Lean back against the wall.” He lifted one leg and laid it over his shoulder. She had shaved all but a band of red-gold hair over her mound. He nuzzled it, hungry for a taste of her.
