Page 54 of Tactical Lies

While he was doing his best not to count his chickens before they were hatched, Connor couldn’t help but believe that he was going to get a second chance with the woman he loved that he craved. Becca was still yet to answer that question he’d asked back in the tent they were held captive in in Cambodia, but he sensed the reason.

She was being cautious, moving slowly, he got that, and agreed. They had a lot of catching up to do and were such different people than they’d been when they were twenty. There was a lot to learn about each other and he was enjoying every second of finding out who Becca was now.

It was like getting the gift of falling in love with her all over again even though there had never been a second since he was old enough to understand his feelings that he hadn't loved this woman.

Becca was his everything, but as he glanced down at her, wondering why she hadn't shot back a sassy remark after he’d called her stubborn, the smile slid off his face.

Something was wrong.

Becca was no longer relaxed, her smile was gone, the twinkle that had been in her eyes all afternoon had disappeared, and she was staring at the cutlery in her hand as though it was going to grow fangs and bite her.

“Moonlight?” he asked, setting his plate down on the coffee table and then lifting hers off her lap and putting it beside his.

When she didn't respond, he captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and nudged her face up so she was looking at him. There was fear in her eyes, and pain, and he could see her pulse fluttering wildly in the hollow of her neck.

“What's wrong, Becca?” he asked gently, sweeping the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip.

After a slow blink, her gaze met his. “Sorry,” she said in a tiny voice, not at all the same as the sassy one she’d just been using as they bantered back and forth. “I just … the knife … I hadn't touched one since … and I guess … what happened in Cambodia … in the tent almost being …”

A shudder rippled through her body and Connor didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her and haul her onto his lap. So far, she’d held up so well, and he had to remind himself that while his focus was rebuilding trust and earning his way back into Becca’s life, she’d also been through a major trauma. Just because she was holding it together didn't mean she wasn't struggling.

If anyone was an expert on dealing with trauma it was Becca.

Already in her life, she’d been through so much, and he hated that she was suffering all over again because of him and his family. It just served to highlight all the ways he’d messed up. If he’d gone to Becca years ago and sorted things out, she would have been protected and safe with him rather than him leading danger right to her doorstep.

“Honey, do you need …” The question wasn't even fully out of his mouth before Becca was nodding and shifting off his lap to curl up beside him on the couch. Shoving down the waistband of his shorts and boxers, he pulled himself free and offered his length to Becca, who immediately took him into her mouth.

Nestling her head on his knees, a soft sigh rumbled through her, and he felt some of the tension ease out of her as she relaxed.

They sat like that for a while, his hand stroking the length of Becca’s spine, his length tucked inside the warmth of her mouth. Honestly, he could stay like this forever. There was no better feeling in the world than knowing he was helping his woman. It was a headier high than sex because an orgasm was fleeting, here one second, gone the next. This feeling lasted forever.

Eventually, Becca lifted a hand to stroke the base of his length that wasn't in her mouth, a sign that she was ready for more than just sucking on him.

At least it had been.

What did it mean now?

Her eyes lifted to meet his and she pulled back, letting his tip fall out from between her lips. There was a fire burning there, one he used to know well. They’d had a great sex life, waiting until they were sixteen before having sex for the first time. For about a year before that, they’d done other stuff, fooled around, and in the years after, they’d experimented with a few different things.

Now, though, he couldn’t just reach for her like he would have a decade ago.

“Becca?”

“I told you about Toby, there weren't any other men. How …” she paused as though drawing on reserves of courage. “How many women have you been with?”

“None,” he answered honestly.

“None?” Becca repeated, scrambling onto her knees, staring at him in shock. “What do you mean none? How could you not have been with anyone else for twelve years? What did you do? Men have needs.”

“I took care of them myself. I have hands, moonlight,” he said, quirking up one side of his mouth into a half smile as he held up his hands and wriggled his fingers. “I didn't want to touch anyone else. It’s only ever been you for me. Only you, my beautiful, bright, brave moonlight.”

“I … I don’t … but I … I was with …”

“It’s not the same thing, Becca. I broke what we had, you had no reason not to try to move on with your life. I hate that another man touched you, but I don’t begrudge you that, not after everything you’ve been through. I'm glad you were strong enough to go on and forge a new life for yourself. All I ever wanted was your happiness and I hate that I was ever a reason you were unhappy.”

“Connor—”

“Don’t apologize,” he warned. Every word he’d spoken was true. It made him sick thinking of this Toby guy touching Becca, but she deserved to move on, and he was the one who had ruined what they shared.

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