Her attention was on my crotch, which was right in her face. I’d been hard since I first trickled my fingers through her hair, and not even the seriousness of our conversation had softened my cock. Sweeping braids to the side of her long, bare neck had only made matters worse, and my jeans weren’t doing much to hide my situation.
Monica’s gaze drifted up to meet mine, and she slid her hand in mine. I hefted her to her feet awkwardly, as she shifted her balance to be supported by one arm. She bumped into me, pressing all that braless glory against my body, and I steadied her in my arms, pulling her even closer.
“Thank you,” she breathed, looking up at me.
Wondering whether she was expressing gratitude for my stellar braid job, our conversation, my helping her up and steadying her, or my painful erection that was poking her in the stomach, I nodded. “Any time.”
Knowing I should probably release her did not cause my arms to open. Then again, she wasn’t exactly moving away either.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. It sounded lame even in my own ears, but it was honest.
“Don’t make this weird. Just kiss me.”
Monica
I’D FORGOTTEN WHAT a good kisser Stocks was. He didn’t just kiss with his mouth and his tongue, the man put his entire being into it. Strong arms encompassed me, big, warm hands roamed up and down my back, and his tongue explored my mouth while he set my body on fire. Excitement erupted in my stomach, wetting my core and making my nipples pebble. Heat blazed, threatening to ignite the clothing barrier between us.
For the first time in months, I felt beautiful.
In this moment, I was no longer the victim of a life-altering accident. I was sexual… wanted… desired, and damn, it felt good. After all the pain and disappointment of the past two months, his attention felt downright intoxicating. We made out until our breathing grew shallow and my lungs were burning for oxygen. Drunk with lust, I needed more. Desperate to feel him everywhere, I gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward.
He grabbed my hand, stopping me. “We shouldn’t do this.”
His voice was breathy with need, but his words might as well have been a bucket of ice dumped over my head. He gently pushed me away, but it might as well be a hard shove. I stumbled backward, trying to make sense of what was happing.
Stocks’s expression was unreadable, like he was trying to hide something. A minute ago, he’d been shoving his tongue down my throat. Now he wanted to stop? Of all people, he should know how badly I needed this connection… this reminder I was still alive and still a sexual being. He said he’d do whatever I needed, and now that I was opening up to him and allowing myself to feel, he was… pushing me away?
Why?
Come to think of it, why had he agreed to braid my hair?
Why was he even here?
I’d let myself get so wrapped up in the moment—in all his sweetness—that I’d missed the oddity of it. Guys didn’t do shit like this. Especially not for a one-armed, scarred up former pilot who couldn’t even strum up the motivation to leave her room. He wasn’t even after what was left of my body, so why was he pretending to care?
Naomi.
I felt the truth of it down to my very core. Ice filled my veins at the realization that my best friend must be involved. First, she’d dragged him down to Portland to retrieve me. Then, knowing how attracted I was to him, she’d urged him to come in and draw me out of my funk. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Stocks wasn’t attracted to me, he was doing his duty and helping another wounded vet. I was a project, and this was just another service the club provided.
Finally understanding the situation and feeling like a damn fool for falling into his trap, I drew back and looked him over. “Well, at least you’re not one of the club whores.”
Confusion furrowed his brow. “What?”
“You stopped this charade before we could fuck. A whore would have gone through with it. That’s their job, right? Build the confidence of struggling vets by fucking them? Do they also fix their hair and bring them food, or are you going for extra credit? Will Link give you some kind of badge if you can convince me to see a prosthetist or go in for my fucking PT?”
“What is that…? You’re talking crazy. Where is this coming from?”
Anger. Frustration. I didn’t want to be Stocks’s project; I wanted to be the flame that set him on fire. I wanted him to want me like he had before life shit on me. I’d had everything taken from me and now I couldn’t even get properly laid. This was what my life had devolved into, and I hated it. “Look me in the eyes and tell me Naomi didn’t ask you to come check on me.”
His eyes widened. “You thinkthat’swhy I’m here?”
“Don’t play games with me. Did she ask you to check on me or not?”
He threw his head back to curse at the ceiling. “Un-fucking-believable.”
It wasn’t an answer, and I had to know the truth. I don’t know why. Maybe because it would justify every self-doubt I’d experienced over the past two months. Maybe because it would give me one more reason to shut down and stay away from people. Maybe because I didn’t want to be fixed. I just wanted to be left alone. Maybe because I felt fragile, and this easy connection to Stocks had the potential to shatter me. “Yes or no, Stocks.”
“Yes.”
