No Regrets (Delta Force #1)
Page 18He set a small kerosene lantern on the table. It was a tiny surface, no more than eighteen inches on each side, with three unpadded wooden stools for seating. The table was scarred from heavy use, and David could remember playing cards on it with his buddies before the cabin had even been finished. They'd sat outside, completely comfortable in the rustic surroundings with just each other for company. Man, he missed those guys.
The entire cabin was only twelve feet by fifteen feet, with a kitchen at one end and an open area at the other for sleeping and everything else. The place was heated with an old potbellied stove that was also used for cooking. Caleb had dug a water well on the property, and the gas generator ran a pump that brought water to the surface, filling a pressurized tank so there was at least a little water available through the kitchen faucet even if the generator was turned off. There was no lighting beyond what one small window in the door could offer during the day. At night, they'd have to use candles or lanterns.
The stock of firewood would last for a couple days, but David was going to have to cut more soon. If he knew Caleb, there was probably another pile of wood nearby that was already chopped and aging. David would make sure to replace whatever they used.
Noelle washed her hands at the deep kitchen sink, using a bar of soap they'd brought along with them. She hissed as she turned off the water and searched for a towel. "Man that's cold."
David nodded, handing her a new towel. All the towels he'd found in the drawers had been the recent home of little mouse families and he doubted that Noelle would enjoy using them. They'd worked great for starting the fire that now blazed inside the old black stove, though.
"It's well water, which is runoff from melted snow higher up in the mountains. Even in the summer it'll turn your fingers blue."
"I don't suppose that means I'll be getting any hot baths anytime soon, either, huh?"
The look on her face was so forlorn that David had to struggle not to laugh. She was so cute wearing his jacket, her red curls a complete mess, her full mouth turned down in a little pout.
"We can heat water on the stove for washing, but unless you want to curl up in the sink for a bath, that's as good as it's going to get, I'm afraid."
Noelle sighed. "It still beats that damn safe house."
They sat down to eat. Or at least David ate. Noelle stared at her plate as if it held the meaning of life.
"You're working, aren't you?" he asked.
Noelle jumped and looked at him with wide eyes like she'd just noticed he was there.
It would have taken him a full hour to get his fill of her mouth. Her lips were so pink and smooth. He could just imagine how they'd feel against his mouth or roaming over his throat, chest, abdomen, Lower.
David's fork bent under the force of his grip and he had to pull in a controlled breath before he could relax his hand enough to set it down.
She looked at him with concern shining in her gaze and reached out a slender hand toward his face. "You okay?"
David didn't move. He could barely breathe under the weight of his lust, which tightened his groin and made his stomach cramp with need.
God, it had been so long since he'd had sex. He hadn't even so much as touched himself since Mary died, either. It just didn't seem worth it to feel any sort of joy, even the fleeting pleasure of shallow self-fulfillment. When he'd disconnected from the world, he'd disconnected from his humanity as well. He survived. Nothing more.
Her hand brushed his cheek, resting on the dark stubble that he hadn't bothered to shave. Her fingers were cold from washing and he could feel the imprint of each soft pad of flesh at her fingertips.
David couldn't help but reach up and cover her hand. Before she'd come along, he'd been so long without contact that he feared her pulling away—feared that it might be another two years or more before someone else had the courage to touch him like she did. He was too rough, too harsh to deserve anything resembling kindness.
Because the table was so small, her head was close to his and he could smell the faint scent of her shampoo mingling with the woodsmoke that wafted through the cabin. He could see a light dusting of freckles across her nose, an imperfection that only served to enhance the beauty of her pale skin.
He wanted to reach across the table and pull her close for a kiss that would eventually lead them across the room to where the sleeping bags lay. He wanted to taste her, to show her with his mouth and tongue what he intended to do to the rest of her body. He wanted to consume her, possess her, take her until she had forgotten every lover she'd ever had. He wanted her to be his. Completely.
The need clawed at his insides, screaming at him to pounce on her. He would woo her with his hands and mouth until he had her pleading for more. Only then, when she was on the ragged edge of sanity, wanting him as much as he wanted her, would he fill her and quench the need inside him.
But he couldn't do any of that to her. They had no life together. No future. She was already a hunted woman. If the Swarm found out that she was David's woman....
He couldn't even bear to consider what would happen to her. If he wasn't careful, Noelle could end up just like Mary. Without even trying, David could still see Mary vivid in his memories, her lifeless, mangled body tied to that chair, sitting in a pool of her own blood.
Noelle just stared at David's back as he added wood to the stove. He'd stripped down to just his T-shirt and jeans, and she could see under the dark fabric how every muscle shifted in perfect union as he moved. His wide shoulders blocked out the light from the fire, but she could feel the heat against her face.
Or maybe that was just her embarrassment warming her skin.
He had been about to kiss her. She was sure of it, Noelle wasn't the Queen of Dating, but she knew that look. He'd wanted her, and she'd wanted him in return. Man, had she wanted him to kiss her.
Her heart was still pounding with excitement, her skin tingling where his hand had covered hers. Under all those layers of clothes, her nipples had tightened and her stomach had filled with butterflies made out of Pop Rocks.
She'd never felt that way with Stanley. Not even close.
Her relationship with Stanley had been a way for her to lose her virginity at the ripe old age of twenty-two. She'd cared about him. She never would have slept with him if she hadn't. She had even loved hanging around with him at first. But then their academic careers went separate; ways, and so did they. It wasn't ugly or spiteful. It wasn't; anything. It just happened, tepid and uneventful. That was kinda the theme of their whole relationship.
Nothing about the way David looked at her was tepid. She'd seen the heat in his eyes, melting that arctic blue into a scalding-hot sea. She wouldn't have minded drowning for a while, just to see what it was like.
But before she'd found the courage to let go of her inhibitions, he'd frozen over again, leaving her feeling cold and bereft.
Noelle had no idea what she'd done to put David off, but it was obvious that something had happened. Something had crossed his mind that had turned him from steaming hunk into frozen man-sicle.
And then she remembered his late wife.
How could she have been so insensitive? The poor man was still grieving for Mary, and showing Noelle those horrible pictures of his wife's death followed by a nice conversation about what a wonderful woman she'd been could not have made the grieving process any easier. David had disinterred memories that she was sure he would have preferred to leave buried if not forgotten.
He was just crouched there on the floor, motionless, staring into the fire. Noelle ached to go to him and offer comfort, friendship, but she couldn't imagine him wanting anything from her. She wasn't his wife, she wasn't even his friend. She was nothing more to him than a job. When the job was over, she'd probably never see him again.
She looked at David's tense back, wishing she knew how to comfort him. As it was, all she could offer him was the privacy of her silence so he could focus on himself rather than her. She wasn't willing to give up trying to pull him out of his self-imposed mental isolation, but she knew that she could only push so far. Whatever she'd said or done had obviously broken open old wounds, and she was willing, if not happy, to let him lick them in peace.
"You should try to get some rest," she said. "You look like you could use it."
His ribs expanded with a deep sigh and he scrubbed a hand over his shadowed jaw. "Yeah. I'm up to about sixty hours of sleep dep now. I think it's finally safe enough to crash for a while." His tone was still sharp but heavy with weariness.
He pulled a matte black gun from the small of his back, checked it with quick, sure motions and placed it on the table beside Noelle's plate.
"Keep this near you at all times," he told her.
She gave him a resigned nod and pushed the gun and David both from her mind with an effort of will. She was here to do a job, and that was exactly what she was going to do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
David's internal clock told him it was just after 0200 when he woke from a much-needed nap. Only sheej exhaustion had allowed him to sleep uninterrupted for al whole four hours—more than he'd had at one time since finding out about Noelle and her need for protection against the Swarm. But rather than leaving him feeling refreshed, the sleep had left him achy, edgy and unsatitsfied. Or maybe that was just the way he would have felt anyway, sleep or not.
Of course, the erotic dreams he'd had of Noelle hadn't done a lot of good toward easing his frustration. It was amazing that even though he'd never seen her nude, or even close to it, his mind still managed to fill in all the interesting little details of her naked body. In his dreams, she had the smoothest, pale skin and coral pink nipples that tightened eagerly against his tongue. Her thighs were slim, but strong, and when they wrapped around his hips, they pulled him close so that every aching inch of his erection was buried inside her sweet body. She'd moaned as he'd taken her, slow and deep, in a lazy rhythm that lured them both close to the edge of climax without pushing them over.
David was in no hurry to end it, which is why he'd woken up before his body had found the physical release it so desperately needed.
David kept his eyes closed and focused on breathing, focused on putting a damper on his libido. He was a man, not a boy, and totally in control of his actions, if not his bodily responses. No matter how much he wanted to reach over and pull Noelle under him to finish what his dreams had started, he wouldn't. He couldn't use her that way, even though he thought he'd seen something approaching desire in her eyes over the dinner table.