“Yeah,” he murmured. “Gonna let me plant a baby in you, Nora?”
My body reveled at the words, shuddering as my orgasm rushed toward me.
“Yes,” I rasped without hesitation.
“Milk my fuckin’ cock then, cupcake.”
My body rushed to obey him. Even as my orgasm bowled me over, I kept going, kept riding as Rowan exploded into me, sending me into another orgasm that damn near obliterated my world.
“Fuck,” Rowan breathed as we both came down to earth, my forehead resting against his.
“Didn’t think fuckin’ you could feel better,” he rasped. “But emptying my cock into you?” He shook his head. “Best feeling in the fuckin’ world.” He clasped my neck so our eyes met. “I’ll be doing that every time we fuck until we put a baby in there, and every time after.”
What could a girl say to that?
It wasn’t until we got home that I got the chance to talk to Rowan about the moment at the table.
We had showered—together, as usual—so I was bundled up in my robe, and Rowan was wearing low slung pajama pants I got him for Christmas. I made a mental note to get them in every color.
We were sitting on the armchairs in my bedroom, drinking wine, enjoying each other’s company.
“What happened to Kip?” I asked Rowan cautiously.
He sighed. “Figured you caught that.”
“If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay,” I said quickly.
“No, cupcake, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just…” He ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck, it’s not somethin’ I’ve spoken about since it happened. Kip does everything in his power not to think about it. We were best friends growing up,” he began, readjusting his position to fully face me. “Inseparable. Both of us knew we wanted to join the Navy. Be a SEAL. He waited till I turned eighteen so we could go together. Figured we’d probably get split up, especially since BUD/S has such a low success rate.” He grinned without humor. “But both of us are stubborn bastards and made it through. Before we deployed, Kip came home, married his high school sweetheart. Girl he loved with all his heart. Who somehow understood why he needed to go fight a war half a world away. His family had some fucked up shit goin’ on, he had stuff to prove to them and himself. She was steadfast over the years, with us gone more than we were home.” He shook his head. “She was a good woman. A great woman. Gave him a beautiful daughter, raised her well.”
My heart thundered, knowing this story wouldn’t have a happy ending since I hadn’t
heard Kip talk about a wife or a daughter. Not once.
“I tried to convince Kip to get out when his daughter was born,” Rowan said, his volume lower. “He didn’t need to be risking his life when he had everything to live for. His stubbornness runs deep, though, so he stayed. And so did I. Because I didn’t have a wife and daughter at home, and because I considered it my job to make sure he made it home to them in one piece. But I had a sick feeling. One I couldn’t shake. That I’d be knockin’ on their door, telling my best friend’s wife that I’d been unable to protect him, that their daughter would never know her father. But it didn’t turn out that way.”
He gritted his teeth. “They died while we were out on a mission,” he ground out. “Car accident. His wife died on impact. Their little girl somehow held on for three days. Three fuckin’ days. They knew… our superiors. But they couldn’t get us out. Or wouldn’t. Don’t know which. By the time we got home, they’d already had the funeral. Already buried them.”
My heart hurt at the horrors Kip had gone through. Loss I couldn’t even fathom someone could recover from. I tried to reconcile that with the Kip I knew... Always smiling, womanizing, never hinting at a past in ruins.
Then I remembered the night when Rowan had left, speaking about needing to pick up Kip from the bar. I thought of the dinners he had alone.
“His family are good people,” Rowan continued. “But overbearing. He couldn’t be around them, the memories of our hometown. Had to leave. I was more than willin’ to go with him. I wasn’t exactly in the best place after coming home either. I was not the man my family had known before.”
I got up from my seat so I could curl into his arms, unable to be so far from him, hearing the pain in his voice. We hadn’t spoken in depth about what he’d told me that night in the parking lot. About the people he killed. What he’d seen. The fact that he’d said it was enough. Uttered words I knew he hadn’t said to anyone.