Honor Reclaimed (HORNET #2)

Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

It was nearly noon by the time Seth returned to his room from the debriefing, and paper crinkled under his boot when he stepped over the threshold. He lifted his foot and glanced down.

Fucking manila envelopes.

His immediate gut response was to toss it in the trash. Nothing good ever came in a manila envelope. Then he spotted his name written in feminine handwriting on the front.

Phoebe’s handwriting.

He’d only seen her write something once or twice before, but he already knew the bubbly lettering as well as his own nearly illegible scrawl.

He dropped his gear right there in the doorway. Even though Phoebe had slid the envelope under his door, he should still probably ignore it. He needed a shower, and maybe he’d even give sleeping a shot—though that didn’t sound nearly as appealing as it had when Phoebe was lying next to him.

Goddammit.

Call him a masochist, but he had to know what she’d left. He scooped it up and ripped the thing open without finesse, dumping the contents into his palm.

Photos.

No, not just any photos. The nude pictures she’d taken the last time they’d slept together.

Hands suddenly shaking, he slid down the door until his ass hit the carpet. His scars were front and center in the shots, but instead of the ugliness that greeted him every time he looked in the bathroom mirror, there was a stark kind of beauty and a grim strength reflected in the black-and-white photos. Love, too. Not only in his eyes as he indulged her but in every carefully composed frame.

Jesus.

What was he doing? All that shit about needing time? That was him being an asshole, and why she didn’t call him out on it, he’ll never know.

He leaped to his feet, flung open the door, and found her standing on the other side, fist raised to knock.

“Oh my God!” She pressed a hand to her chest and stared up at him like he was a madman. Which he was. Then, regaining her composure, she backed up a step. “I know you said you needed time, and I understand that. I’m leaving Afghanistan tonight, but I couldn’t go without apologizing for?—”

He held up the photos. “Is this how you see me? No, look at me.” He gripped her chin and made her meet his gaze when she tried to glance away. “You said once you wished I could see myself through your eyes. Is this how you see me?”

She swallowed hard. Shook her head. “No. That’s not how I see you. It’s how you are.”

“Are you in love with me?” he asked point-blank, although he already knew the answer. He saw it in the photos, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Tears filled her eyes, spilled over. “Yes. Very much.”

“Good.” Seth pulled her into his body and claimed her mouth with his, instantly remembering the shape, the taste, the way her lips moved against his.

How could he think he’d be okay for even a moment without this? Without her?

She gasped when he finally came up for air. He hooked a finger under her chin again and stared down into her dazed eyes. “I love you, too, Phoebe. Which is why…” He left her standing in the doorway and found the article where he’d left it on the bed. He held it up for her to see and ripped the papers in half. “I’m done living in the past.”

Again, her eyes filled with tears. “But I hurt you.”

“You didn’t know me then. You were only doing the job you were told to do. Same as I was when I took my men up into the mountains. You told me I couldn’t keep holding myself responsible for what happened to them, and you were right. So now I’m saying the same to you. Let it go. Kathryn Anderson is dead. Let’s keep her that way.”

Crossing back to stand in front of her, he cupped her cheeks in his palms and thumbed away her tears. “Will you stay with me? Please. Last night opened up a fuck-ton of bad memories, and I don’t want to be alone. I don’t need time. I need you .”

How could she say no to that?

Without a word, she let him pull her into the room. Once inside, he released her hand to shut and lock the door. She should probably say something, but her mind was blank with shock. She hadn’t expected this.

At. All.

He claimed to love her, and maybe he did, but she just couldn’t see how he’d ever forgive her for the horrible things she had written about him when she couldn’t even forgive herself. If she asked him questions now, would he wonder if she was digging for a story? Would he ever be able to trust her with his secrets? How could they build any kind of relationship with so much baggage between them?

Seth exhaled a half-laugh and walked toward her. His big hands curled around her shoulders and rubbed. “You’re thinking awfully hard.”

“I just—this isn’t going to work.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll never trust me again, and I don’t blame you for that, but?—”

His hands paused. “Who says I ever stopped trusting you?”

Shock reverberated through her. “You didn’t?”

“No, sweetheart. I didn’t.” He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers. “Here’s the part you call me out for being an asshole.”

“You had every right.”

“No. All I had was a shitload of hurt pride. The mission went sideways, and I was wallowing in all my failures, then you went and put yourself right in the crosshairs. I was not in a good headspace.”

She swallowed. “What I said about Emma… it was wrong. I know she’s important to you, and she always will be.”

“She helped me through the worst years of my life.” Seth released a long breath and trailed his hands from her shoulders down her back. “My captors took fifteen months from me, robbed me of my friends, my dignity, my sanity. Emma’s photo was the only thing they never took away, and for a long time, I couldn’t get rid of it.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter anymore.” He reached into his vest pocket and brought out a photo too small to be Emma’s. He held it up between two fingers.

Her professional headshot torn from a newspaper.

She sucked in a breath. “Me?”

“I’ve been carrying it since our fight yesterday,” he admitted, his voice little more than a thick whisper. “I realized I was clinging to the past, and it wasn’t helping me heal. If I wanted a future, I needed to change, and so the first thing I did was toss Emma’s photo and replace it with one of the woman I love.”

Oh God. The sweet, sweet man.

She went into his arms, intending to hug him, but as soon as her body came into contact with his, she wanted more. So much more. She lifted her head to tell him how much she wanted him, but he was already a step ahead of her, his mouth coming down on hers in a branding kiss so hot she was surprised her panties didn’t catch fire.

“I want you naked, sweetheart.” His lips traced the line of her jaw to her ear, and she shivered.

“Yes.” Oh, yes, she wanted to be naked, wanted to be skin-to-skin with him. She broke away from him long enough to pull off her coat and shirt and tug at his vest. He chuckled softly and bent at the waist so she could strip him of it and his shirt.

“What’s your hurry?” His fingers skimmed her bare shoulder, sending goose bumps racing over her skin. “We have all day.”

“Just means we can go fast this time and slow the next.”

“How many times do you think we’re going to have sex?”

She pretended to think about it as she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, freeing his erection. “Well, like you said, we have all day.”

“I’m not a machine. And I only have so many condoms.” His soft laugh faded into a groan as she took him in hand and stroked him, massaging his sensitive underside with the tips of her fingers. His hand weaved into her hair and gripped her head as his hips rocked into each stroke.

“Jesus,” he gasped. “You can’t keep doing that, it’ll be over before it’s started.”

“Can’t have that.” She gave him one last lingering stroke before releasing him and shoving him down on the bed. “I want to be on top.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His gaze was fire on ice as he watched her strip off the rest of her clothes.

“Condoms?” she asked, swinging her bra around on her finger.

He moistened his lips and pointed to his bag on the floor. She found a string in the front pocket and grinned at him over her shoulder, knowing good and well he was getting an eyeful of her backside. “Well, it’s a start.”

He groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

She tore one package open. “Lay back.” Straddling him, she used one hand to steady his cock, and rolled the condom on.

“Phoebe,” he groaned.

“Had enough foreplay?” She lifted herself over him and sank down his length, inch by viciously slow inch, until he was buried to the root inside her, and they both shuddered.

“Lemme see you move, sweetheart,” he whispered, skimming his hands along her waist to grip her hips.

She lifted herself up, sank down again, and rode him at a pace meant to drive him insane. And it was working. His jaw clenched, and his fingers dug into her hips. He tried to hold her still and surge into her from underneath, but that so wasn’t going to happen. Not this time. She laced her fingers through his and peeled his hands from her hips, pinning him to the bed. She leaned over, tracing her open mouth across his chest as the angle of his penetration changed so that each thrust brought his pelvis into contact with her swollen clit. Her entire body instantly warmed and tingled, and she quickened her pace, her breath sawing out of her lungs, matching his.

She screamed with her orgasm, the force of it taking her by surprise and draining her of every last drop of energy. She collapsed onto his chest, heard a growl rumble under her ear, and then she was on her back, Seth rising over her with her legs looped over his shoulders. Already sated, she watched through blurry eyes as he took his pleasure from her body.

Was there ever anything more beautiful?

The chords of muscle in his neck and shoulders stood out, his jaw clenched as he surged closer to his own peak. After one last thrust, he groaned with his release, and his muscles relaxed, the tension slipping away. He dropped her legs and buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she held him as he shuddered through the orgasm.

No, she decided and sleepily stroked her hands down his scarred back. There was nothing more beautiful than this man.

Absolutely nothing.