Steele (The Elite Forces Book 4) Page 9

  I pay for dinner, even though she fights me for the ticket. “I don’t need you to buy everything for me.”

  “I didn’t say you did.” I open the door and guide her through it first as we leave. She looks at me strangely but allows me to do it. “Are you not used to a man opening doors for you?”

  “Let’s just say that wasn’t something that happened where I lived.” Of course, it didn’t, just like not having anyone pay for her food. She’s never been on a date. Not that this is one.

  “Well, it should happen more now that you live here in the States. Specifically the Midwest, where you live. I hear those Midwestern men are known for their charm.” I try to joke, which gets me an eye roll and a laugh. Prettiest sound I ever heard. A real gentleman would’ve opened her truck door for her. She’s already falling for me harder than she should anyway; I don’t need to make it worse. I’m trying to keep from pushing it with her, so I leave her to it, round my truck, and we both slide in at the same time.

  We check into our hotel and find that there’s a door adjoining our rooms. I’m barely inside my room when she knocks on the connecting door; against my internal advice, I open it.

  “This is strange. Did you ask for rooms like this?” she questions the setup while I admire her beauty.

  “No, I just reserved two rooms. This is just the luck of the draw, I guess.”

  “Perfect. We can watch a movie or something before we turn in for the night.” She sits against the headboard of my bed and pulls her knees to her chest as she watches me move around the room. I try to hide the annoyance that I have her in my bed, not because I don’t want her there, but because I don’t want to have to fight myself to stay away from her when she’s that close. I sit in the chair across the room to allow some distance.

  “I won’t bite you. Why are you acting weird?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then get over here and sit with me. It won’t hurt you to relax.” She’s right. It won’t, and I’m sure if I fight it, she’ll just point out to me that I’m avoiding her. She’s a little too observant for me to get away with anything when she’s around.

  “Grace. You’re killing me,” I blurt out my resistance as I stand beside the bed on the opposite side of where she’s sitting.

  “Well, I hope not?” She decides to toss out a joke when my dick is twitching in my jeans. God, she really is going to be the death of me.

  “I’m itching to touch you. To kiss you again.” Her eyes open wide as she stretches her long, lean legs out in front of her.

  “What’s stopping you?” She bites her bottom lip. I internally groan. Shit. Fuck. Damn it.

  “I’m stopping me. I didn’t bring you on this trip to have you in my bed. I brought you because I really like spending time with you. It’s true. I did feel something with you when we were stranded, but as I told you there, you aren’t ever supposed to act on emotions when you’re stranded. Everything is heightened in emergencies.”

  “You're back to making excuses, Trevor. We are not stranded anymore.”

  “I know we aren’t.”

  “So tell me, was that a lie in the truck when you said you felt something? Don’t answer that. Think about it. When you're ready to admit the truth, then will talk.” She catches me there. Her fierceness to speak her mind has thrown me way off my game. I’m usually the attacker. The one who goes after what he wants, and she has me so discombobulated that I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. Yes, I’m feeling a connection to her. The same one I’ve always felt since the moment I laid eyes on her the very first time. I sit on the bed next to her, stretching my legs out in the same way as she is.

  She slides over toward me, laying her head on my leg in the process.

  “Maybe you should stop stressing about everything and let us just see how things fall.” I freeze for a few seconds before I allow my fingers to run through her hair that’s laid out behind her.

  “I’m not really stressed. I’m just tired.”

  She lifts her head up and scoots back before she pats the bed beside her. “Trevor, hold me before I go to my room. Hold me like you did on the plane that night.” Fuck. Holding her is the last thing I should do. I need to steer clear from this right here, but the second I pull her into my arms, I know there’s no way I can kick her out of my bed.

  She fits. Her perfect little body fits against mine, and it’s almost instantaneous that my body melts behind her. Everything about her lying next to me feels right.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  GRACE

  This time when I wake, I’m alone. I know I’m still in his room because his fresh scent surrounds me. It’s a terrifying and exhilarating smell. Soap from his obvious shower and spice, because he’s flavored with so many emotions that I really have no idea what the heck I’m doing. I’m all kinds of mixed up when it comes to this man.

  I rub my eyes, swing my legs off the bed, and stretch, my eyes scanning the small room. “I wonder where he went?” I say to the dimly lit four walls. The curtains are still closed, with a touch of light peeking in underneath. I start to walk around the edge of the bed when I stop abruptly at the blanket haphazardly thrown across the arm of the chair in the corner. My mind goes haywire, and I startle myself when I remember him mentioning demons. “Oh, Trevor.” It’s a silly thought as to why I suddenly feel as if calling him by his first name is more important to me than calling him by his last. It seems more personal, more fitting. It’s sad that his outer shell is exactly the description of his last name. Steele. And then it all hits me. His demons come out at night. In his nightmares.

  No wonder he looked exhausted. He can’t sleep. I stare at the empty chair for a few minutes longer when another thought occurs to me. Instead of standing there trying to figure out how I’m going to help him, I fight those demons off and make my way to my room to shower. Once I’ve decided what to wear, I take my clothes and soaps, and close the bathroom door so I can take care of business. It takes me a few minutes to adjust the water for my shower, so I wait to strip out of my wrinkled-up clothes.

  As much as I’ve enjoyed taking long, hot showers since I’ve been here, which is a luxury to me now, I quickly wash and condition my hair. I look forward to applying my lotion that Ivy bought me. She introduced me to Victoria's Secret on one of our shopping trips, and I fell in love immediately.

  Of course, I vaguely remember hearing of it before we moved years ago, but never gave the store a second thought. Now, though, as I apply the heavenly scent over my skin, I'm very glad she took the time to teach me about some of her favorite delicacies. I grab my matching navy blue silk bra and panties; I guess you could say I’m now addicted to the store.

  All of that, plus the jean shorts and light blue off-the-shoulder shirt are things I can afford, but never will I take any of them for granted. I pull my damp hair into a ponytail, apply a minimal amount of makeup, and jump when I open the door to Trevor standing in between our rooms with a coffee and a small bag in his hand.

  “Good morning,” I cheerfully say. He stands there, eyes ablaze as they travel slowly down my body. I feel chills from each sweep of those dark eyes across my skin. They linger on my chest, drop down my stomach, and stay locked on my bare legs. I want to say something, anything, but the look in his eyes is like nothing I’ve seen before. There’s want, need, and a desire to worship streaming out of those haunting eyes. Yesterday, I had plenty to say, and now today, with him looking at me as if he could eat me alive, I’m at a loss for words.

  “I wanted to hit the road as soon as you woke. Not sure how or if you drink coffee or eat donuts,” he tells me, voice incredibly rough.

  “I do, thank you.” I would call this small gesture an extremely gentleman-thing to do.

  I take the offered cup out of his hand, along with the bag. “I’m ready when you are,” I say, take a sip of my coffee, and place everything in my bag. My face is flaming. I have sweat between my breasts and suddenly it feels as if the air conditioning isn’t working
in here. I’m turned on. An utter mess from the inside out. And my body is overly heated. I sit my coffee on the bedside table, lift my bag off the bed. I do all of this while he simply stands there staring at my backside, heating my skin to the point I’m nearly boiling.

  He’s right there next to me after I grab my coffee and turn around, the muscles in his jaw going tight. Trevor can deny the truth all he wants. He wants me as bad as I want him. It’s undeniable, inevitable, and beginning to go deeper than that all-consuming desire.

  “Let me get that.” He takes the handle of my bag, pulls it behind him, and leaves me standing there.

  “Thanks for this,” I express, wanting to moan around the chocolate-glazed donut as we make our way down the hall and exit out a side door.

  “You’re welcome,” he replies quietly as he unlocks his truck, puts our things in the back, and walks around to my side of the truck where he proceeds to open my door. The urge to kiss him for being a gentleman is so strong that I find myself doing just that. It’s not sexual or a plea to lead to anything else. I want him to know I appreciate his gestures. All of them.

  “You're a good man whether you want to believe it or not.” I lightly kiss his cheek, step into his truck, and follow his trail as he winds around the front. That slight smile on his face breaks through, so I know I’m getting to him. I'm under his skin, and I know it. Now if I can figure out a way to knock down the other walls, most importantly the ones caging in those demons, I truly believe I’ll meet the real Trevor Steele.

  We make it to the ranch with the heavy undeniable tension between the two of us. We talked mostly about my schooling along the way, then he told me all about his friends and the upcoming wedding. As different as they all sound, I’m grateful he’s found a family with them.

  Both of us steered around his reaction this morning, too. I consider asking why he chose to get up to sleep in the chair. I know that’s what he did. Then I change my mind. Our conversation yesterday was enough. He needs to enjoy his time here without me pushing him.

  I relax the farther we drive down the gravel road, the green moss hanging from the trees.

  “This is beautiful,” I acknowledge.

  “It is, peaceful, too. We’ve all come here to stay a few times after a tough mission. It’s relaxing.” I turn to look at him; this is the most laid-back I’ve seen him. His entire demeanor has completely changed. Everything about him screams easygoing and carefree. This is the true him without the stress of his past surfacing and torturing his mood.

  “Do you ride?” I ask as we pass a giant pasture with horses, surrounded by a large wooden fence and rolling hills in the distance.

  “No. I have before. It’s not my favorite thing to do. Harris has a seven-acre lake filled with bass. Jackson and I usually fill a cooler full of beer and sit on the dock and fish til we can’t stand it any longer.”

  “Fishing it is then.” He studies me for several seconds. Every nerve inside of me goes on hyper alert. My body is getting that sensation of warmth I would normally feel in my chest, except it flows between my thighs and my breast suddenly become tight. He clears his throat, and our sexual attraction continues to sizzle like a hot live wire.

  “Let’s get settled inside. I’ll show you around a bit, then we can head down to the lake.”

  “Sure,” I reply, my mind racing. I’m not sure what just happened or what’s becoming of this. All I do know is, my body reacts to this man in a way that makes more sense to me than anything has before.

  “I could live in a place like this.” I follow him inside the beautiful home. Its modern living space is remarkably huge. It appears to be recently updated. There’s a large family room to the right that leads right into the open kitchen with an eating area below a large bay window overlooking a big backyard and a covered porch.

  “There are a couple bedrooms off the living room. We can take those. They both have their own bath. Harris plans on retiring here someday and raising a family.” I think of this man Harris and everything Trevor told me he went through and how he seems to be at peace with it all now. I can’t imagine what the man has been through. His strength alone makes me anxious to meet him. I’d like to thank them all for their continued service to our country one day.

  “He called his ranch hand and had him stock the fridge for us. Help yourself to whatever you want,” he declares, grabs our bags, and disappears through an archway I assume to the rooms.

  I quickly make us both turkey sandwiches, grab some fruit, and shuffle around the kitchen opening drawers until I find two plates.

  “I made lunch,” I call out to him when he doesn’t return. When there’s no answer, I make my way across the room and stop when his back is to me, the muscles flexing and contracting in a way that make me gulp. Those muscles aren’t what grab my attention, though. It’s the burns across his shoulders and right down the center of his spine.

  “Shit,” he swears, his shoulders heaving, and before I can retrace my steps out of his room knowing this time I’ve over-stepped, he is stalking my way, lifts me up by my waist, walks us a few steps into the hall, and presses my body up against the wall. His hands grip my backside. My legs cage his waist, and when his mouth slams down on mine, it has me wet between my legs. My head starts to spin. I go dizzy. I go wild, and I take as good as he’s giving. This kiss grabs my gut and squeezes. It isn’t a kiss meeting some raw, sexual need. It’s a kiss of want, need, and something more. Tongues collide and nip, and the more he deepens, the more I want. The harder I press for him to give me just a little bit more. I wrap my hands around his neck, my fingers teasing the edges of his hair. It’s as if everything becomes natural, fits, and when he breaks away from me, his pupils are dilated and his forehead rests against mine.

  “I don’t have any idea what I’m doing when it comes to you, Grace. You barged into my life like an unexpected storm.” He sighs, and his chest heaves up and down.

  “I don’t know, either,” I say, place a hand on his cheek, and slide it down his arm. Slowly, he backs away. His eyes hold that storm; they swirl, revealing so much more.

  I’m tired of trying. Tired of pushing and tugging and getting nowhere when it comes to him. I give up. I’m going to play nice. Laugh and tease. Allow him to have the good time he wanted out here. This wishy-washy back-and-forth crap is giving me whiplash. If he wants me, then it’s up to him to make the eye of the storm turn back in his direction. If not, then once this week is over, he’ll never have to worry about seeing me again.

  “Have you baited a hook before?” He comes out on the porch a few minutes later with a few rods and gear in his hand.

  “No,” I answer and squeal when he tosses a worm in my lap.

  “It’s not going to bite you; it’s plastic.”

  “It’s not the worm; it’s the hook.”

  “The hook?” he repeats. “You want to be a doctor, and you're afraid of hooks? What the hell kind of joke is that?”

  “I’m not afraid of them; I simply don’t like them. I may want to be a doctor, but that doesn’t mean I like being poked.” I realize how I worded my answer the second it slips from my mouth. So much for not trying. “Virgin, remember?” I circle my body, indicating that was not what I meant when his brows shoot up and a deep laugh breaks out of his mouth.

  “Oh, I very much remember. It’s been on my mind all day. You make it very hard not to think about anything except you. Especially with those clothes on.” A storm brews in his clouded eyes, my nipples perk, and I become incredibly nervous and self-aware; if I were to give myself to him with the knowledge that he can’t promise me anything more than that, I really don’t think I could handle it.

  “You’re playing with fire, Grace. I’m not sure you’re ready to get this close to what will inevitably burn you.” He stalks close to my face and speaks directly into it. He’s so close, yet so closed off from me. He wants to let me in, I can see it in his eyes, but he’s clearly fighting it.

  “I like it warm. Remember, I�
�ve lived in the desert for years.” I stand tall in front of him, allowing him to let his eyes move over me. I want him to see me. The real me.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  STEELE

  She is killing me. Slamming her into the wall may not have been my best move when it comes to her, but seeing her react to me like that only fueled the fire I’m trying to put out. I’m not sure I want to stop this attraction I have toward her. I need time to think. Then again, she said she would back off. Now it’s me who’s struggling with her sudden decision.

  I toss the ice chest and gear in the back of the truck as she follows me with the lunch, and we both stay completely quiet on the drive over until we pull up to the water. “This is beautiful.” Her face lights up every time she sees something new. I forget that she’s been deprived of beautiful scenery for years. There isn’t jack shit but sand and death for miles in the desert.

  One thing I’ve come to know about Grace is, she’s easy to please when it comes to spending time with her. I can tell she’ll never be materialistic, which fits perfectly with me. Not that I’m trying to find ways that we’re compatible. That seems to be easy to do.

  “Follow me,” I tell her after positioning my truck with the back toward the lake. I throw open my door, climb out, release the tailgate, and grab everything I need out of the back.

  “That way,” I nod with my head, then start to follow her. My eyes are glued to her cute little ass that’s teasing me in those shorts gripping tightly to her behind. I’m pissed off at myself as her words of me not believing I’m good enough echo in my head, and every other word that has come out of her sweet little mouth. I’m drowning in this woman.