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Hayley
She believed him. More importantly, she believed in him. Matt Winston was no angel, but he was a good man. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the people he cared about.
Including her.
Warmth spread through her. He still cares about me.
Outside, she was calm and collected. Inside, her heart pounded, and blood rushed excitedly through her veins. Bigger and broader than the boy he’d once been, Matt Winston was every inch the lethal Navy SEAL she’d been researching all afternoon.
Just being in the same room with him was intoxicating. Golden-brown eyes that still had the ability to make her bones melt with nothing more than a look. A strong jaw, covered in chestnut scruff, and full male lips that could make her see God.
He was harder than she remembered, too, a mass of solid, masculine muscle no mere cotton T-shirt or brushed flannel could hide. She wanted to run back into those arms and have them wrap around her like steel bands. Wanted to feel those lips on hers again and lose herself in his touch.
She wrestled those urges back. She had to keep a clear head. No matter what her heart felt, things were different now. They were different people in different circumstances, and a lot had happened since the last time they’d seen each other.
She exhaled. “Fair enough. Tell me what you know, and I’ll decide if it’s useful.”
Matt’s lips quirked. They were some fine male lips. “Trust me, it’s useful.”
He really needed to stop looking at her like that, or she was going to forget about doing her job and focus solely on doing him.
She meant to say, I’m all ears, but what actually came out was, “I’m all yours.”
His eyes blazed, and he made a growly, rumbling sound. In her mind, it sounded a hell of a lot like, Yes, you are.
The room grew hotter. And smaller. Her eyes roamed around the space, registering the bookcase, the table and chair, the bed. Simple but functional. There were other chambers like this one, a complete underground living space, but this was his space.
“Well?” she prompted.
“We’ll share what we know but not tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not. Tonight.” He stood again and started walking toward her. Stalking really, like some sexy predator. Slow, measured steps, each one offering an opportunity for her to stop him. To say no.
She didn’t want to say no.
He stopped just in front of her. Not touching, but close enough for her to feel his heat. She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding or see her nipples pebbling beneath the brushed cotton shirt.
No, she realized, he couldn’t see them because his eyes were looking deep into hers, right down into her soul.
“If you don’t want me to kiss you again, you need to tell me now.”
She couldn’t. Because she wanted him to kiss her again more than she’d ever wanted anything.
He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Stole her breath away. Used his lips and tongue and teeth to make her forget everything else. Heat continued to build between them, dampening her skin and making her crave a more intimate reunion. She was fast approaching the point of no return, but when she reached for his belt, his strong hands clamped around her wrists and stopped her.
“Problem?” she asked.
His lips quirked, but his eyes shimmered with the same intense heat she felt at the juncture of her thighs.
“Make sure this is what you want, Hayley,” he warned. His voice, dark and dangerous, sent delicious shivers along the length of her spine.
“I’m sure,” she answered, nipping his bottom lip. There had never been a time when she didn’t want him. Dreamed of being in his arms again. Craved the feel of his touch and the sensation of him enveloping her.
She silenced any further protest by rising up onto her toes and pressing her lips to his. A mere second of resistance was all he offered before he took command. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her tightly against him. He devoured her mouth like a man starving.
“Please,” she whispered softly.
He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She could feel it in his kiss. Feel it in the stiff rod pressed against her hip. Yet he was fighting it. Why? Did he still doubt that she was right there with him?
“Please,” she whispered again.
His head tilted back, and he made a sound in the back of his throat, half-groan, half-growl. As if he was warring with himself on whether or not to continue.
Then, her feet left the floor, and she was in his arms as he carried her toward the bed.
He unwrapped her with the eagerness of a man on the edge. Years ago, he had removed her clothes slowly, tenderly, and with absolute reverence. The reverence was still there, but the slow tenderness had been replaced by a barely leashed need, almost savage in its intensity.
Joy washed over her. Joy and a sense of power that she could test his control so thoroughly.
He paused when he saw the citrine pendant, the same one he’d given her all those years ago, smooth and warm against her skin.
“You still wear it,” he murmured.
“Always,” she answered breathlessly.
His hands trailed over her skin, large and callused, a gentle branding that marked every inch. Her arms. Her sides. Her breasts. Her belly. They worked along the curve of her hips. Down the outside of her legs and then back up the inside. He growled when he reached her center and found her wet.
He stroked her there, humming in appreciation and approval. His lips left hers, tracing a path down the column of her neck, leisurely along her collarbone, all the while continuing those tender strokes with his fingers.
His mouth closed around one stiff, taut peak as a strong, long finger eased inside her, causing her to arch.
Her hips moved of their own accord, needing more. One finger became two. Two became three as his mouth moved to the other breast. He added his thumb, swirling against the tight bud where rippling quakes built in intensity.
Then, she was falling. Splintering. Shattering into a million pieces in his arms.
From somewhere off in the distance, she heard him growl again, the sound of a beast slipping free of its tethers.
As the bright lights behind her eyes faded and she returned to her body, she felt him. A slow, broad, rigid intrusion at the epicenter of all sensation.
She opened her eyes to slits. Saw those golden-brown eyes looking deeply into her soul as he entered her body. She surrendered to him, wholly and without reservation.
Her hands cupped his beautiful face. Her legs wrapped around his body. They spoke not a word with their mouths, saying everything with their eyes and hearts.
He pumped inside her, his strokes as reverent as they were punishing. In each one, she felt his desperation. His anger. His pain. His ... love.
She took it all greedily and demanded more.
When her inner muscles began tightening around him again in impending climax, he moved faster. Harder. Entering so deeply that it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began.
He curled his hips and plunged even deeper, his body stiffening an instant before she felt the throb of him at her very core. She held on to that moment with everything she had, knowing that she would never be that close to another soul again.
That was some scary stuff.
Physical intimacy, she could handle. At least, that was what she told herself. But allowing more, opening her heart to him again? That, she wasn’t sure she’d survive. When she accomplished what she’d come for, she’d have to go back to her own life again, and she wanted to do so without leaving any more of herself behind.
He eased to the side. She immediately missed his weight, though he curled his arm around her and held her close, and that felt almost as good. She soaked in the feeling of utter contentedness, knowing it couldn’t last.
Eventually, it was Hayley who broke the silence. “I’ve got questions.”
“I know you do. Ask me anything.”
It was hard to know where to begin. He’d suffered devastating personal loss, done daring deeds, and saved untold lives in the special forces. She wanted to talk about all of it but was reluctant to delve into any subject that would put a damper on the blissful peace and contentedness she felt in his arms.
“Tell me about Sanctuary. Why?”
He kissed her forehead. Stroked her hair with his fingers.
“I knew it was time to get out,” he said quietly. “But I had no plan. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I had nothing and no one to come home to. It was a dark time. I wandered for a bit. Spent some time in some shelters. Realized there were plenty of others feeling the same void I was.”
“So, you decided to do something about that.”
“Not at first,” he admitted. “Not for a while actually. Then, I crossed paths with this woman.”
Hayley stiffened before she could help herself. He chuckled.
“Not like that. She was older. A motherly type. I thought she was nuts at first. Never saw her before in my life, but she acted like she knew me. Said I needed to get my head out of my ass. Not in those words exactly. She was much nicer than that, but that was the gist. She said I had the means to make a real difference. That I could help a lot of people, myself most of all.”
“Sounds like a smart woman,” Hayley murmured.
“I didn’t think much of it at the time, but her words kept coming back to me, so I started volunteering in a shelter. Couple hours here, couple hours there. Saw lots of vets. Guys like me who were stuck in between worlds. Men who had gone from having a definitive purpose to feeling like a burden on the very society they’d risked their lives to protect.”
His words dropped off, and inside, she felt his pain. She instinctively moved closer, placing her hand over his heart, and patiently waited for him to continue.
“Sometimes, one of the regulars would stop coming by the shelter, and I knew ...” He swallowed. “It wasn’t right. Those guys had survived hell on earth, only to get lost when they came home. When they should have been safe. I couldn’t understand why someone didn’t do something. I thought about the same thing happening to the guys I’d served with. I could see it all too clearly. And every time I did, that woman’s words came back to me, echoing in my head.
“Then, one night, I had a dream. A memory of when I was a kid and my grandfather was showing me these tunnels, telling me stories of how they’d been used to get people to safety and how my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother Sarah opened an entire wing of the manor house to the families of Civil War Union soldiers.
“I finally got it. What that crazy woman had been trying to tell me. I did have the means to do something. My family had been doing it all along. I just needed to carry on the tradition. All this land up in the mountains, just sitting here, when it could be put to good use. So, I came back, made some phone calls, and started turning Sanctuary into a reality.”
Hayley’s heart swelled. “You are a good man, Matt Winston.”
He shook his head in denial. “I have a good team. I couldn’t have done it without them.”
“Your business partners, right? Five others, former SEALs, like you.” When he raised an eyebrow, she admitted, “I might have done a search or two. You served with them?”
He nodded.
She snuggled closer against him. “Tell me.”
He did. He told her about Smoke and Heff and Mad Dog and Cage and Doc and how he’d approached each of them with his idea of turning the place into a haven for vets. A few had been skeptical, he said, but not one of them had turned him down. He seemed surprised by that, but Hayley wasn’t. Matt was a natural born leader. He inspired and motivated and brought out the best in people. Herself included.
By the time he was finished, it was close to dawn. She didn’t want to leave but thought it best to return to the B & B before Martha arose and started asking a lot of questions.
“I can’t wait to meet them,” she said honestly. “But I should be going.”
He nodded as if he understood. Even better? He didn’t look any happier about it than she did.