Hearts Unleashed Read online

  Even though he’d been sleeping over at the bunkhouse, Katie had left the pillow and blanket from the night he’d spent here in the main house. The small gesture warmed him.

  The familiar sounds of a truck engine followed by spitting gravel meant Peter was finally gone.

  His eyelids grew heavy as tiredness overtook him. In the kitchen, Joanne fussed over the casserole she was making for dinner. She was there if Katie needed anything. Exhaustion consumed him. As did remorse.

  I didn’t protect her.

  • • •

  John’s body was thrown back and forth as the Humvee traveled over the bumpy road. The engine roared as the vehicle climbed over the rocky terrain of Afghanistan. The men had to bellow in order to be heard.

  He turned to his right. Dirk was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

  “What?”

  From the way his friend’s face contorted, he knew Dirk was speaking louder, but no sound reached his ears. Dirk’s eyes had a desperate quality to them that made a small shiver of dread snake up his spine.

  The silence was more deafening than anything he’d ever experienced. Something was wrong.

  Sudden darkness encompassed him followed by a painful burst in his chest. He awoke to find himself thrown face-first to the ground. His lungs burned and his bones cracked as he struggled to pull himself up into a sitting position.

  A figure moved toward him. An intense flood of relief swept through him as he recognized Dirk’s outline. Alive—he made it out!

  But as the other man drew closer, he saw something was terribly wrong. Dirk’s body was mangled and bloody. It only had one arm. The other was a fleshy stump, jagged and raw.

  Dirk’s body swayed and fell. Using the arm that was still intact, it inched itself over to John’s ear.

  Dirk’s mouth twitched and shuddered. This time, John heard him clearly. “Why do you get to live? Why didn’t you save me?”

  Chapter 23

  Katie stood by the mahogany dresser, a towel around her shoulders. Her hand hovered over the contents of her make-up drawer. She’d just been in a serious accident. The last thing she should be worried about was lipstick.

  She slammed the drawer shut when the rapping at the door reached her ears. “What is it?”

  “It’s just me,” Joanne said. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  “How are you feeling?” Joanne opened the door, her gaze falling on Katie’s forehead.

  The bruise was developing rapidly. As if she didn’t have enough to be self-conscious about.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “I’m glad to hear. Not that I wouldn’t stay if you needed me, but—”

  “You want to get home to your family.”

  Joanne nodded. “And it looks like you’ll have Mr. Rathborne here keeping an eye on you.”

  “John?”

  “Fast asleep on the sofa in the living room,” she said. “Men! Well, there’s casserole enough for both of you. All you have to do is heat it.”

  “You’re spoiling us.”

  “Not at all,” Joanne said. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

  The two women walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Joanne grabbed her jacket off the hook by the back door and put it on. “I’ve gone ahead and made breakfast, too.”

  “I really appreciate it. Please drive home safe.” Katie waved goodbye to the housekeeper from the shelter of the door, but the chill cast by that word stayed with her even after she was back in the warm kitchen. She sighed, shutting her eyes.

  Now that she was alone, those “worst” possible outcomes flooded her mind. The truck rolling could’ve killed her. Dad’s heart attack could’ve been fatal. And the attack in the hospital …

  A warm body pressed against her. Koda’s brown eyes gazed up at her.

  “I’m being silly, aren’t I?” It was weak to give in and indulge these fears—and if there was one thing she was not, it was weak. A loud snore punctuated her statement. Katie bit back a laugh, sharing a look with Koda. “Well, I’ll say this much. He’s an expert sleeper.”

  Remembering how tired he’d seemed that afternoon, she decided to let him sleep. She hummed as she washed her dishes, leaving a plate of casserole on the table with a note. As she did, the occasional sound from the living room reminded her she was not alone.

  When she was finished, and he still hadn’t stirred, she stuck her head in the living room. “John?”

  He lay stretched out on the sofa, dead to the world—just as he had the night he’d caught her touching herself. Her cheeks heated at the memory. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself go—in front of him of all people!

  She covered him with a blanket. Koda eyed her. “What? I wake him up, then I have to listen to him complain.”

  The dog followed her upstairs, lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. She climbed onto the plush mattress, her head resting on the pillow. Her eyes traced a small crack in the ceiling. She replayed the events from earlier and the way the truck bounced and swayed.

  A guttural yell filled the house.

  “John!” She swung her feet over the side of the bed, making her way downstairs with Koda at her heels.

  Her feet slid across the wooden floor as she spotted him on the sofa. He’d kicked off the blanket and tossed about, moaning.

  Some kind of nightmare.

  She remained motionless, unsure what she should do. When he screamed again she ran to the sofa, laying her hand gently on his chest. “John, wake up. John, it’s just a dream.”

  He thrashed about and she pulled back; his elbow missed her face by an inch.

  “No,” he moaned. “No.”

  She swallowed a wave of panic of her own. Come on. You’ve got this. She took a firm hold of herself.

  “John. John! Wake up!” She shook him by the shoulders.

  He bolted upright, disoriented, his arms flailing as he reached for a support that wasn’t there. Sweat coated his shaking body, and his breathing was heavy. He blinked, looking from one corner of the room to the next.

  Her heart broke as the panic in his face was replaced by recognition. He stared at the blanket across his lap. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes.

  “Goddammit.”

  “And I thought I had bad dreams.”

  He flinched. Apparently, she’d overestimated how aware he was of his surroundings. The horror with which he stared at her stated plainly he’d had no idea she was present.

  “It was the TV.” He motioned toward the blank screen. “I fell asleep with it on.”

  “No, you didn’t. The TV wasn’t on.” She sat back on her heels, tucking her hair behind an ear. “It took me forever to wake you.” Her fingers softly grazed his forearm. “I know you keep your stuff to yourself, but you cried out. I heard you. I wanted to help. The way you’re here to help me.”

  She sat in front of him, looking at his face. Her fingers ran up his arm to his chest, and he sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes closed tight. His body shuddered beneath her fingertips, but not in fear. She moved closer, laying the palm of her hand flat over the center of his chest.

  “Your heart’s racing. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  She removed her hand and saw his lips part, as if in protest.

  “Stay there.”

  Alone in the kitchen, she leaned against the sink. Her chest ached. His actions were all too familiar. She’d suffered the same way for the first few months after she was attacked. He needed her. After a couple of seconds of controlled breathing, she reached for a glass and filled it with water.

  She entered the living room and stopped. Her feet seemed to glue themselves to the floor. John had swung his feet over the side of the couch, but that was as far as he’d gotten. His face was buried in his hands, and his…

  She swallowed. There was a definite bulge in his Levis.

  “Here you go.”

  His head jerked up as she stepped closer to h
im. His pupils were dark, and his breathing still faster than normal. “Thanks.”

  His fingers brushed her own as he took the glass, sending a fresh jolt of electricity racing through her body. She cleared her throat and plopped onto the other sofa opposite him. She wrapped herself in the blanket, creating her own cocoon against the cold permeating the living room. Though she’d much rather have her body pressed up against his.

  “Do you know where the remote is?” he asked. “You don’t have to babysit me. You can go back to sleep.”

  Her pulse raced. Even now, emotionally shattered and vulnerable, he tried to subdue his attraction to her. And by the way his jeans bulged, he was attracted. Not to mention she’d been looked at with enough pity to know there was nothing sympathetic in the glances he sent her way.

  “No, you are not fine. I’ve had nightmares, too. They don’t just wear off as soon as you get up.” This was more than she’d shared with anyone.

  But he’s not just anyone.

  “I’m not going anywhere, so you’d better get used to it.”

  A tired smile crossed his face. “Fine.” He dug into the cushion to retrieve the remote before tossing it over to her. He took a gulp of water, before settling back down.

  She caught him glancing at her and she flicked through the channels at a rapid pace.

  “Slow down, will you?”

  “What? You mean, you want to watch something besides the back of your eyelids?” she joked.

  “Something tells me agreeing on a show to watch is going to be more difficult than agreeing on the bookkeeping.”

  “That’s because you’re an ass and make everything difficult,” she said. “Although, come to think of it, I do know something you’d like to watch.”

  “What, this crap?” He stared at the screen. She’d stopped on some show about housewives with big, fake tits. “I hate reality TV. I thought you would, too. I guess you’re just full of surprises.”

  He has no idea.

  As he sucked his teeth, she inconspicuously removed the soft pink satin pajama shorts and threw back her blanket, hitching one leg over the arm of the sofa. At least she’d put on a pair of sexier panties. She bit the corner of her lip, waiting for him to turn toward her.

  “Hey, Katie, are we really gonna watch—”

  His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. She grew wetter as his eyes dropped to her fingers, tracing the front of her blue nylon panties. Her body hummed. The nerve endings between her legs were on fire. Her thin camisole top brushed against her hard nipples.

  “No kitty underwear this time,” she said.

  He gulped, groping for his pillow, too slow to hide the immediate reaction of his body. “Katie, what are you doing?”

  Her breath became ragged. The nerve bundle between her legs swelled with need. “I told you. I know what you like to watch.” She slipped her fingers under the lace-trimmed fabric.

  She stroked her swollen folds, moving her hands back and forth. A soft moan escaped her lips when she brushed against her clit. Her other hand traveled up her firm belly and began stroking her breasts, pinching her already-hardened nipples. Her eyes remained firmly affixed to his face.

  “Fuck, Katie.” His voice cracked. He hadn’t moved, but every breath he took signaled he was having a harder and harder time holding his arousal in check. His eyes were dark and hungry, and as she watched, he swallowed. He hadn’t moved, not even to touch his clearly urgent erection. No, he was watching—watching her drive him crazy.

  She spread her legs wider as her fingers slid in and out of her folds. Her head fell back against the sofa, her eyes half-closed. Soft whimpers escaped her full lips as she used her first and second fingers to rub on either side of her clit. What started out as a show for him, turned into a pleasuring activity for her. She’d never been this turned on, never enjoyed getting herself off as much as she was now. But she wanted more.

  She lifted her head, her eyes scanning his body. “You really never let anyone watch?”

  “Huh?”

  She clamped her lips to confine the small giggle threatening to escape, watching him try to make sense out of her question.

  “Um—no. I haven’t,” he said.

  Her tongue traveled slowly across her upper lip.

  “Show me,” she demanded, her voice a husky whisper.

  Her stomach knotted when he recoiled, his eyes darting to the floor. Had she misread his desire? Misread the way he’d trembled as she brushed against him in the office? And when her palm had rested on his chest?

  “It—the IED left scars. It’s not—it’s not pretty.”

  The insecurity was something she could relate to. Whenever someone tried to sympathize, it only made the feeling worse. So she remained silent, focusing on him. Determined to show how sexy she found him.

  Using the thumb of one hand she pulled the fabric of her blue lace panties over to one side, showing him her sex as the fingers of her other hand circled her swollen clit.

  “Show me.” Her voice remained firm, revealing a side of her she hadn’t felt since that night at the hospital. She’d never thought she’d feel it again. It both thrilled and terrified her all at once.

  He unzipped his jeans and eased his cock out of his shorts. The angle didn’t look comfortable and he seemed to be trying to show as little of his skin as possible. At the sight of his cock, erect and wet with desire for her, she arched her back, her hips giving a little thrust.

  “Oh, fuck, Katie.” An uncontrolled hurricane of firing nerve endings tore through when he gripped his straining length, the tip gleaming. Her mouth salivated watching his cock grow as he spread his legs, his hand pumping his thick erection.

  “John,” she moaned. Her eyes were halfway shut, but still focused on him. Her fingers rapidly stroked her clit as her hips gyrated. “I make you that hard.”

  “You have no idea how hard you make me,” he growled. “I’m hard all the fucking time. And I think you know that.”

  She didn’t think she could possibly feel any hotter.

  “I want to watch you come,” she said, her voice low and laced with longing.

  A low, rasping moan rumbled from his chest at her words. His grasp tightened and his pace quickened. Her brown eyes remained on him, drinking up every impassioned movement as he stroked himself, faster and faster, until he was unable to hold back his moans. His body shuddered. She watched breathlessly, her own body quivering, as his seed spurted out onto his abdomen and dribbled down his hand.

  She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her hand began working even harder, stroking her clit at a frantic pace. She lifted up her tank top, exposing her stomach and breasts. His needful growl filled her ears.

  “Oh, God, John!”

  She wanted him to touch her, but knew he wouldn’t. Not until she asked. The muscles of her abdomen flexed, and she tightened around her fingers. Her breath stopped as an orgasm rippled through her.

  “Fuck.” His words sounded like they were ground out from clenched teeth. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She took a deep breath, luxuriating in the pleasure still pumping through her body. She removed her hand from her panties, her fingers glistening with her moistness. She looked up to see him staring. His mouth was slack, as if it wanted to wrap around her fingers.

  She smiled as he closed his eyes and he made a visible effort to catch his breath.

  All the excitement too much for you, old man?

  She stood, taking advantage of his inattention to pull up her clothes and slip out of the room.

  In the bathroom she splashed water on her face, attempting to cool her burning cheeks. Arousal was fading replaced by a sudden, unnecessary feeling of giddiness.

  Never in a million years would I have thought I would do that.

  And she’d done it. And John—he’d appreciated it.

  She eyed her reflection. She was looking at a Katie she’d never seen before. Her heart began to beat faster. She wasn’t what one would call an angel, b
ut brazen wouldn’t be a word someone would’ve used to define her sexually. Brazen Katie existed in her fantasies. And in the pages of the books she read when she substituted herself for the main female character. Yet somehow, her fantasy-self had become real. And she was terrified.

  Chapter 24

  John sat on the sofa, his eyes shut and a faint ringing in his ears. Well, that’s different. Katie made him come so hard his ears rang. A wide grin spread across his face.

  Something hit him in the chest.

  John’s arm curled up automatically, trapping the object. His eyes flew open, and he stared at her, standing in the doorway wearing a devious expression.

  “Figured you’d need to clean up.” She darted out the doorway, as if expecting him to return the gesture.

  He looked into his hands and laughed. She’d just flung a roll of toilet paper at him. He pulled off a couple of sheets and cleaned himself off.

  Heading into the kitchen, he glanced up the stairs. The door to her room was closed and the lights were off. He yearned to lie next to her, but she hadn’t given any inkling she wanted the same. And he didn’t want to push.

  He placed his glass in the sink, noticing the plate and note on the table. A smile hovered on his lips. He heated the meal and took it back into the living room to eat. He grabbed the remote and started flicking through the channels, determined not to go back to sleep. He didn’t want her hearing him scream again tonight.

  Or any night.

  His eyes turned up at the ceiling, but there was no noise. After rolling the truck, she needed the rest. A touch of sadness filled him when his eyes fell upon the empty sofa across from him. But it was quickly replaced by the memory of the bold show he’d just witnessed.

  If I hadn’t seen it, I’d never have believed it.

  She had done more than put on a spectacular show. She’d bared a vulnerable side of herself to him. As he did to her.

  It’ll never work. I’m no good.

  His fists clenched. After what she had been through, she needed someone strong. Not someone broken who could barely take care of himself. And who couldn’t save his friends when it mattered the most. His teeth ground together with such force, he was afraid they might break.