11

Vivien stared at the current bane of her existence. She and Chase had worked on overcoming her claustrophobia for the past two days but had made little progress.

It lay on the ground appearing harmless, but in reality, it was a demon come to life to destroy her dreams.

Chase didn’t know where her fear of enclosed spaces came from, but she did.

The night her parents were taken away her mom had put her in a closet in the attic to keep her safe.

It was days before her granddad found here there—starving, dehydrated, and covered in her own urine. Three long days and terrifying nights. But the men who’d come had guns and she’d known leaving that closet to pee or sneak food or water might have meant the end of her short life.

The only thing that terrified her more than enclosed spaces was the dark. She still slept with the television and a lamp on most nights. She was thrilled she’d gotten a private room in the barracks.

“You ready?” Chase came to stand beside her. “We’ll aim for ten minutes today. Not moving, not walking, just ten minutes with it on.”

Breathing was already becoming a challenge. “Ten sounds like a lot. How about we aim for five?”

He nodded. “If you’re more comfortable with that, we’ll make it the first benchmark.”

The iron fist clenched around her heart loosened its grip a fraction. Anyone could do anything for five minutes, right?

“Viv,” Chase began while placing his hands on her shoulders, “breathe. First rule: don’t cause yourself to pass out from lack of oxygen.”

His caramel-colored eyes were lighter in the glow of the sun. Being this close to him, remembering how he felt inside of her, inhaling his masculine scent, didn’t make breathing any easier. Not that she could tell him that.

Her hands trembled as he helped her on with the suit. It wasn’t the suit really. It was the helmet. It was limited oxygen. It was having no peripheral vision. The anticipation alone made her nauseous and light-headed.

“Can I have some water first? There’s a bottle in my bag,” she said urgently just before he lowered the helmet over her head.

She figured he knew she was stalling but he was being supremely patient with her. He retrieved the water bottle and brought it to her lips. She took several large swallows, then nodded to let him know she was good.

Before he picked up the helmet again, he stepped directly into her space—or as close as he could get with the suit in the way. “Look at me, Private Brooks. Vivien. You’ve got this, okay? I’m right here.”

She nodded, but her mouth had already gone dry even though she’d had water mere seconds before.

“Breathe,” he reminded her before lowering the helmet once more.

She didn’t even want to blink for fear the darkness would overtake her again. She stared at Chase through the clear shield in the helmet. He gave her a thumbs-up and she nodded.

Time stood still as she watched him stare at his watch. It felt like two eternities passed before he held a finger up, signaling that one minute had passed.

Four more, she told herself. Just get through that four more times.

Not a chance in hell that was happening.

She shook her head fiercely, gesturing for him to help her out of the helmet she was clawing at.

He removed it but the disappointment was written all over his face. “What happened?”

Vivien inhaled the fresh air greedily. “I can’t. I can’t breathe in there.”

Chase didn’t put the helmet down right away. “Yes, you can. You’re just psyching yourself out.”

“Well tell me how to psych myself in, Corporal.” She spat his rank out like an insult. “Because I can’t think straight in there. How the hell can I defuse anything if I can’t fucking think?”

Backing her against the wall of a nearby building, Chase leaned so close to her face she could’ve kissed him. If he hadn’t been making her so angry, she might have been inclined to do so.

“Stop trying to think,” he practically growled in her face. “That’s not what we’re doing today. Today you exist in the suit and that is all you do. Breathe. Blink. Stay conscious. This is the job, Private. The job you wanted. If you need space, go ahead and transfer. Get yourself a comfy little cubicle where you stare at fucking data all day or listen to conversations in Arabic and try to translate. But you can do this. You were made for this. And if you let this one aspect of this job keep you from what you were meant to do, you will regret it. Forever.”

He was right. She knew that. She had psyched herself out by overthinking it.

Admitting he was right out loud would be worse than a lifetime in that suit. She clenched her jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine. Put the damn thing back on me.”

“Find something—anything—to distract you. Don’t think. Forget where you are. Let your mind go somewhere else.” With that last kernel of wisdom and advice, he replaced the helmet.

The base of her skull tingled, feeling heavy and aching. She focused on her breathing but the black spots still threatened to appear behind her eyes.

Blinking them away, she racked her brain for anything else she could use to distract herself.

She said the military alphabet in her head. Ran through the glossary of EOD training terms she’d memorized. Tried to compose a mental grocery list.

She pled silently for Chase to signal that another minute had gone by, but he held out on her for several more seconds before holding up a finger.

His hands.

There it was. The one thing she could focus on that made her lose time.

Watching him grip his beer bottle, seeing those long, powerful fingers wrapped around his pool cue, then feeling them wrapped around her waist, tangled in her hair, gripping her hips. Her body heated, but not in the terrifying way from before.

Her breath caught in her throat as she recalled the passion and intensity he’d kissed her with. She’d fought off the memories for weeks while trying to be a good student, but now, now she let go and let them envelop her. The suit had nothing on the fantasy she was enjoying.

Through the helmet she could see the stubble beginning to form on his jaw. Her palms ached to feel it against them, as did her thighs.

He’d worked her over so good with that powerful mouth. She’d been acutely aware of each and every inch of skin he’d tasted with his tongue, his heat licking her body like flames, until her existence seemed reduced to only those locations.

Ashes, Vivien thought to herself. Chase Fisk could burn her alive and reduce her to ashes. He’d lit the fuse that night and now she was a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate. Needing to explode. Soon. The blast wave could destroy them both, destroy their careers, their common sense.

For the first time, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Her sex clenched tightly. The powerful throbbing began keeping perfect time with her pounding heart.

She swallowed thickly and licked her lips. Chase held three fingers up.

Could she handle three of his strong, masculine fingers inside her? Probably not. Two had been a tight stretch.

Was there anything she wouldn’t let him try, though? God, he was painfully beautiful. And patient. Wounded and carrying darkness of his own, but he was kind. He’d opened up about his painful past, about how he’d overcome his fears to try to help her get a handle on hers. How many men would do that for her? Put their own vulnerability on display to help her accept hers.

He held up five fingers and she smiled to let him know she was okay to stay in the suit a little longer. Maybe she needed to stay in there, keep that barrier between them, for his safety.

In a way, he was saving her career.

The thoughts currently racing through her mind could destroy his.

She scolded herself for being so selfish.

She had to behave. No more teasing. No more tempting him.

He was the one who stood to lose so much. She had a backup plan and could always go back to working for her granddad’s company. What did Chase have? A piece of shit father was all she knew of.

Before she could think of how she’d tell him she’d behave herself from now on, the helmet was gone and Chase was lifting her off the ground, suit and all.

“Ten minutes, Viv. That was ten minutes and you never even noticed!”

“What?”

He set her down, grinning like a triumphant teenager who’d made a winning touchdown in the big game. “You did it. I held up ten fingers. You didn’t even blink.”

That’s because I was busy picturing you naked.

“Shut up. That’s awesome.”

Chase fist bumped her. “Yeah, it is!”

The full potency of what this meant hit her all at once as soon as Chase helped her out of the suit.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and whispered her gratitude in his ear. “Thank you, Corporal. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me.” Truly. He had no idea that it was the memory of them together that had eased her claustrophobic reaction.

Chase pulled back, lust darkening his gaze. “You’re flushed and warm. But that’s better than pale and near passing out. What were you thinking about so hard in there?”

She should’ve lied.

Should’ve looked away from his intense stare and mumbled the name of a television show or a recipe she wanted to try.

Anything.

But she couldn’t lie to him, not after everything he’d done for her.

So she told him the truth the only way she knew how.

Her lips landed on his with more force than she’d intended. She braced herself for rejection or even shock or a reprimand. It never came.

He matched her every move with a sensual ferocity all his own.

“You,” she whispered against his mouth. “I was thinking about you.”

Chase’s strong hands lifted her from the ground and backed her against the brick building beside them. She wrapped her legs around his waist as his warm, wet tongue swept inside her mouth.

“Someone could see us,” she breathed between kisses. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Sir,” he added. “You forgot to say sir.”

She giggled when his mouth moved to her neck. The sound surprised her, as she was not typically one to giggle. Ever. “Do I have to call you sir when you’re fucking me?”

His teeth grazed her sensitive flesh. “It’d be a nice touch.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, raking her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

“My place,” Chase ground out while placing open-mouthed kisses along her jawline. “You’ve had enough enclosed spaces today. No more backseats. Tonight I’m spreading you out in my bed, where I can—”

“My place is closer. No roommates,” she reminded him.

“Your place, it is.”

Despite the risk, Chase held her hand the entire way across the deserted training field, practically dragging her to his truck.

They barely spoke on the ride to her building, but Vivien could practically hear his thoughts as if they were being broadcast on the radio.

Her place was on base.

What they were doing was wrong.

He was her CO.

Anyone could have seen them.

Anyone could see him leaving her place at some ungodly hour.

They were adults. They both knew the risks. She chewed the inside of her cheek and studied his profile.

The question was, did they care?