Jennifer Morey - Justice Hunter

Nearly a full minute later, he withdrew, so inflamed he didn’t think he could step back and leave. No, he wanted to go inside with her.

He stood breathing with her, his forehead against hers.

She tipped her face up, and he found himself kissing her again. Blood rushed to his groin. Already hard from the first kiss, he could burst now.

“Let me in,” he said, kissing down her neck to the top of her blouse.

“Oh,” she breathed. “I don’t even know you.”

“We can talk first.” He came back up to her mouth. “Maybe.”

She laughed with him, deep, sultry sounds. Then she turned in his arms and unlocked her door while he kissed her neck. She managed to get the door open and he followed her inside.

Those few seconds opened enough clarity for him to slow down. As she backed up with fiery eyes cooling, he could see she’d begun to simmer down, as well.

“Uh... Coffee?”

“Sure.” He followed her into her kitchen, just a couple steps from the entrance. A two-chair table took up most of the small dining area. Her apartment was little more than a hotel room, with a daybed on one side of the studio and living area on the other.

Rachel went about preparing a pot of coffee. “You never did tell me why you quit the SEAL training.”

For a moment he wondered if she’d asked on purpose, digging for the most personal information on him. To douse the passion? How could she know the weight of her question? He considered doing as she’d done, blatantly changing the subject. But then he’d lose ground in winning her trust.

Clamping down angst, he said as neutrally as he could, “I got married.”

Rachel paused in her task to look back at him. “Didn’t she support your wishes?”

“She told me she was pregnant. I didn’t want to quit, but I didn’t want to have a baby and be gone all the time. My plan was to work as a SEAL for a few years and then settle down. I thought being careless with her was just as much my fault as hers.” He wished he didn’t have to continue.

The coffee had begun to brew, the rich aroma filling the apartment. Rachel got out two cups and put them down.

“What happened?” she asked when he didn’t go on.

Bitterness welled up as always when he thought of this. Was telling her worth using it to gain her trust? Luella’s smiling face and laughter came to him, a memory of the time when they were kids and she threw water balloons at him. He’d just come home from his job as a burger-flipper, his first one. He’d had a really bad day and yearned for college so he could get away from fast food. As soon as he’d gotten out of the old Camaro, she’d sprung out from the garage with an armful of balloons. She’d dropped some, but a couple had gotten him good.

He’d found her stash and broke a few of them on her. They’d both been dripping wet by the time they ran out of balloons. That was Luella, spontaneous, worry-free, always looking for her next source of laughter. That day the source had been him.

Later, he’d found out his mother had told her he’d had a rotten day. He’d talked to his mother after he left work because she’d left a message asking him to stop for a pound of hamburger meat for dinner.

He and Luella had been so close growing up. And now she was dead. All her bubbly life had been taken from her.

Yeah. She was worth telling Rachel about his ex-wife.

“After we were married, she told me she wasn’t pregnant. She tried to tell me she had a miscarriage, but when I asked her to show me her medical records, she wouldn’t produce them. That led to a long fight. Finally, she confessed and said the only way I’d marry her is if she told me she was pregnant.”

Rachel’s mouth dropped open, an automatic response.

“I got a divorce,” he said. “But that didn’t get me back in SEAL training.”

Now Rachel shook her head. “Why do people lie about things like that?”

“She fought for me to stay married to her, too.” He scoffed at the audacity.

“I might be able to forgive but, yeah, never able to trust or love that person again. If anyone can carry out a lie that size, what else are they willing to do to get their way?”

She meant Jared. Like her, Lucas had learned the hard way that people could say things that sounded believable when inside their thoughts ran another agenda. His ex had been that way. He’d believed her teary profession that she was pregnant, that she was so sorry, that she hadn’t planned on it happening. The one thing he believed most was her claim that she hadn’t been thinking when they slept together. He hadn’t, either. But she had been thinking afterward.

He recalled how she’d pursued him, a hot navy SEAL trainee. Young. Virile. She’d been upset when he’d told her he quit. She wanted a SEAL for a husband. No doubt she’d have enjoyed his deployments, freeing her up for affairs.

“You’re really upset about that,” Rachel said.

He looked down to see the steaming cup she offered. “I made a mistake quitting. I’m not a quitter, but the SEALs see it differently.”

“You think you should have married her and not quit.”

“Yes. I’d have learned she lied either way.”

“You put fatherhood first. There’s nothing shameful about that. She lied to you. You did nothing wrong.”

“Justify it any way you like. The fact remains that I quit.”

“There are worse things in life.”

“Dying. That’s it.”

She sipped her coffee. “Well, you didn’t die, so be thankful instead of bitter. There’s nothing you can do to change the past.”

Everything happens for a reason? “Is that how you view your juvenile record?”

Holding the cup with both hands, she averted her gaze and then returned it to him. “I’m not perfect. I wish I could change my past, but yes, I know I can’t.”

“You’re bitter about it?”

“No, not bitter. Just...regretful. I used to be angry at the world and the universe and God for killing my parents. Now... I realize it’s just...life.”

They shared a long look. She seemed so good. Nice. Honest. Nothing like what he’d expected. Maybe he should give her a chance. Maybe he should tell her the truth.

He’d just gotten finished telling her how his ex-wife had lied to him. She could see how much that had hurt him. How could he do the same to someone else? Granted, his lie wasn’t as life-altering as his ex’s, but it was still a lie.

She stepped toward him, reaching for his face, caressing him, and then pressed her body to him.

“Rachel...” How could he begin?

“Shh.” Her forefinger ran across his lips and stopped in the middle. Then she slid her hand around to the back of his neck as she rose up onto her toes to kiss him.

“There’s something...” I need to tell you stayed in his mind as she opened her mouth and kissed him in earnest.

He drew her closer, intense passion firing. Just a little more of this and then he’d tell her. He felt her fingers in his hair, felt her move as though yearning to be closer. Kissing her became strained. He wanted her naked. Sexual desire gnawed at him.

“This is crazy,” she whispered against his mouth.

He kissed her. Crazy. Yes. She had no idea.

“Why do you turn me on so much?” She dug her fingers into his hair again, pressing him to her mouth for another firecracker kiss.

“I want you so much,” she said. “I’ve never felt this kind of passion before.” And then, with that, she stepped back, her hands still on his chest as though stopping touching him was the most difficult thing she’d ever had to do. “Why you?”

Logic sank through the drugging desire. What a question. He didn’t have an answer. He could ask the same about her. Why her?