Camouflaged Hearts Anthology Read online

  She smoothed her hand over his neck and shoulder. “Love me."

  Nudging her thighs further apart, he lodged himself at her opening and pushed gently. She stiffened beneath him as he parted the untried tissues. “Do you want me to stop?"he gritted.

  She shook her head and grasped his ass, pulling him forward.

  He tried to hold back, but her tight, liquid passage proved irresistible. He shoved past the thin barrier until he was embedded so deeply, he couldn't move any further. Wincing, Moira trembled in his arms and he pulled her closer, guilt clogging his throat. “I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I'm so sorry."

  She pressed kisses over his shoulder and neck. “It's okay. I wanted this. I wanted you."

  He kissed the tears from the corners of her eyes. “It gets better."

  A small smile curved her full lips. “Show me."

  David withdrew slowly before working his way back through her tender folds, watching her face for signs of discomfort. His muscles shook with his restraint as he kept his pace painstakingly measured—achingly slow. He sighed as she relaxed, tugging him closer, taking him deeper.

  Her hips lifted to meet his, and small, needy sounds escaped her parted lips with each thrust. “I need more,” she panted.

  Slipping his arm around her waist, he urged her to wrap her legs around his waist. He groaned. The angle of contact changed and her satiny flesh clasped his cock even tighter. This was heaven—she was heaven. As long as he held her in his arms he could forget all of the ugliness he'd seen since the war had begun. Her lips opening beneath his chased away everything but Moira and this moment.

  Her whispered encouragement pushed him harder and faster and he lost himself to the sensation of pounding into her eager body. Her fingernails scored his back as he pushed her closer to the edge. Meeting him thrust for desperate thrust, she stiffened and clamped down on his throbbing cock as her climax slammed into her. Her internal muscles shuddered and rippled, milking him until his balls tightened and he exploded within her. Panting, he gathered her closer, breathing in her sweet scent. God he wished this war was over. He wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake up with her every morning.

  Easing from her body, he tucked her into his side and dragged their discarded clothing over the top of them for warmth. The shelling above had stopped at some point, and now an eerie quiet had fallen. The only discernable noises were the sounds of their slowing breathing and the distant wail of an ambulance. As much as he wanted to stay down here with her, he knew he needed to leave the sanctuary of the wine cellar and offer assistance.

  A quiet sigh escaped Moira and he leaned over and smoothed the hair from her face.

  "What is it?” he asked.

  She rolled her to her back and traced his features with her fingertip. “I hate the thought of leaving this place, but we should probably go and see what's left of the city.” She swallowed hard. “And the people."

  His stomach pitched as a thought occurred to him “We should check on your family."

  She shook her head. “They're further north in Pengam. There's nothing there worth bombing. But I would like to check on my friends and the family I work for."

  They dressed in near silence. There was so much he didn't know about her, but none of that mattered. He knew enough. He knew they were meant to be together. He just hoped she realised that too.

  He glanced at Moira. Almost shyly, she pulled on her stockings. His cock hardened again as he watched the black slide of silk cover her legs, but he tried to force his desire away. As if she felt his eyes on her, she met his gaze. The desire he'd managed to tame roared back to life. The garter strap fell from her fingers and, she stood there wearing nothing but panties and half-hooked stockings.

  "I love the way you look at me,” she breathed as he crossed the tiny space between them.

  He cupped the weight of her full breasts, brushing his thumbs across her nipples. “How do I look at you?"

  A breath rattled through her as he drew a pebbled peak into his mouth, nibbling and sucking at it. “Like ... like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world."

  He released her breast and looked into her eyes. “You are."

  She lifted her mouth to him, and he couldn't resist. Damn him, he should be out there searching for survivors, but instead, he had her pinned to a support beam while he devoured her lips.

  Taking his hands, she placed them on her breasts. “Please, David..."

  Palming them, he pushed his thigh between hers and she rocked against him.

  "I need you again,” she moaned.

  He slipped his hand inside her panties and found her clit. She arched against him on a groan and began fumbling at the waistband of his pants.

  "I need all of you,” she whispered, shoving his pants over his hips.

  As if he'd deny her. He pulled aside the crotch of her panties and poised the head of his cock at her slick entrance. Holding her steady, he filled her completely as she locked her legs at the small of his back. He couldn't believe he was ready for her again. He suspected it would always be this way between them. God willing, they'd have the chance to find out.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he protected her delicate back from the wooden beam as he rocked into her, filling her over and over. Her breathless cries spurred him on as he thrust harder. He slipped a hand between them and plucked at her clit, rhythmically squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. Her nipples jutted out and he drew one into his mouth sucking hard and gently scraping his teeth across it until she stiffened on a scream, her cream flooding around his cock.

  Black spots floated in front of his eyes as a tingle started at the base of his spine and radiated outward. He emptied himself into her in hot shuddering gushes as she continued to milk his cock, taking everything he had to give.

  He held her as their breathing quieted before finally letting her slip to her feet. A self-conscious smile curved her lips as she smoothed a shaking hand over her hair. “I guess we should probably hurry. I'm sorry I slowed us down."

  He pulled her into his arms. “Don't be sorry. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

  She traced the line of his jaw. “You fancy musty wine cellars, then?

  He laughed and brushed a tender kiss across her lips. “I fancy you."

  * * * *

  Moira paced in front of the dance hall on Wood Street. Miraculously, it had escaped damage during last week's raid. The nearby buildings weren't as lucky. All told, forty-six people had died in the bombing. After she and David had left the shelter, they'd helped move the injured to the hospital. Outside the hospital, they'd run into one of his fellow soldiers who'd been looking for him. Despite their weekend pass, they were required to report back to camp immediately, so David had kissed her goodbye, promising he'd be back.

  Nine days later and she still hadn't heard from him. She wanted to believe she'd meant more to him than a quick tumble. God knew she was all but in love with him, but the longer she went without hearing from him, the more she worried she'd been wrong about him.

  Worry tightened her middle as she pushed the thought away. What if something happened to him? How would she ever know? She sincerely doubted his captain would bother to search her out to tell her the news. Was it possible he'd been shipped out already? He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. At least, she didn't think he would. Blinking back the sting of tears, she turned toward the sound of footsteps descending the concrete stairs of the dance hall. Bethan and a man Moira didn't recognise.

  "Moira,” her friend called. “This is Lieutenant Portko, he's been looking all over for you.

  Her stomach fell to the sidewalk as she turned to face the man. “I'm Moira. How can I help you?"

  The officer offered her a grim smile and removed a bulky envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. “I promised a young man I'd find you and give you this.” He laid the envelope in Moira's outstretched hand and she closed her fingers around it.

  "Is he...” She could
n't force the remainder of the question past her throat as she stared at the man.

  "In France,” the man finished, gruffly.

  Silently saying a prayer for David's safety, she nodded and blinked back tears. From a distance, she heard Bethan and the lieutenant talking as she sank onto the step. The cold seeped through the thin fabric of her skirt, chilling her as she carefully opened the envelope.

  Inside, was David's watch, wrapped in a note. Smoothing the paper over her knees, she squinted at his sloppy handwriting.

  Dearest Moira,

  I'm sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye, but I was hoping you'd hold this for me. I'll come for you as soon as I'm able. I miss you like mad.

  All my love,

  David

  Relief raced through her body and she sagged against the railing. He hadn't forgotten her.

  Chapter Four

  Moira stood with her back to the brisk April breeze in the backyard of the home where she worked. Shaking out the bed sheet, she pinned it to the clothesline. Her skirt caught in the breeze and David's watch bumped against her thigh, a comforting weight in her pocket. It was stupid to continue to carry it around after all this time. It had been almost two years since she'd seen him and six months since she'd heard from him. The war had ended in December, so where was he?

  She was terrified something had happened to him. Hundreds of thousands of men had died in this war. Swallowing past the lump that clogged her throat whenever she thought of David, she realised she might never know what happened to him. There was also the nagging worry that he'd found someone else. After all, they'd only been together once, and they'd had so little time together. Her hands clenched on the pillow case she was hanging and tears filled her eyes. A fool. That's what she was. She'd been nothing more than a pleasant distraction.

  Now that the fighting had stopped, the neighbourhood was gradually resuming its normal activity. The rumble of a slow moving vehicle filled the quiet spring air as the driver rounded the corner. A delivery truck, no doubt. However, instead of continuing up the street to the restaurant, it stopped in front of the house. Tossing the clothes pins back into the basket, she pushed aside the hanging linens and rounded the side of the building. It wasn't a delivery truck, but a jeep. A military jeep.

  Her heart leapt into her throat as a man exited from the passenger side. David. She'd dreamed of seeing him again—more times than she could count. She wasn't even sure she wasn't imagining him now. She wanted to believe this was real—to go to him, but shock kept her rooted to the spot. Shock and fear. It was entirely possible he'd only come to retrieve his watch. And say goodbye. Steeling herself against the possibility, she waited.

  David paused. For months he'd ached for this woman, and now she stood there—just staring at him, velvet brown eyes wide with worry. Had she moved on to someone else? When he'd questioned nearly everyone in the city of Cardiff as to her whereabouts, he'd never bothered to find out if she'd married. Even if she hadn't, perhaps she'd decided he hadn't been worth waiting for.

  Ignoring the pain of his injury, he waved away the driver. Limping, he forced one foot in front of the other and pushed open the garden gate. As if freed from a spell, she darted across the yard and threw herself into his arms.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to his body, unwilling to let the smallest of spaces between them. Lifting her face, he covered her lips and delved into her mouth like he'd wanted to for so long. She melted against him, driving her fingers through his hair, her need evident in her kiss. God, this was where he needed to be. Warm moisture dampened his cheeks, and he realised she was crying. He pulled back and brushed away her tears. “Moira, love, what's this?"

  Swallowing hard, she dashed her hand across her eyes. “I was so afraid that something had happened to you ... and when I didn't get any responses from you, I thought...” Unable to finish, she buried her face in his chest.

  He gestured to his leg. “I've been bounced from one field hospital to another. I never got your letters."

  She lifted her head, her eyes clouded with worry. “What happened?"

  He shrugged. “Lucky shot."

  "You should be sitting down,” she scolded, tugging his arm. “Come with me. You need to rest."

  Looking into her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and refused to let her move. “I've got everything I need right here."

  She opened her mouth, but he laid his finger across her full lips. “Unless you're about to tell me that you want me to leave, stop talking and kiss me."

  Frowning, she slapped his shoulder. “Of course I don't want you to leave!"

  He nuzzled her neck, pushing aside the collar of her dress with his lips. “That's good, since I wasn't planning on going anywhere."

  A tremor shivered through her as he dragged open-mouthed kisses up the side of her neck sinking his teeth into her earlobe. Her nipples peaked, pressing into his chest. He sighed as he took her mouth in a hungry kiss. The sweet taste of her exploded across his tongue and he groaned as he delved deeper.

  He'd missed the sensation of her in his arms more than he could express. His hand slid up her ribcage and he brushed his thumb across a pebbled nipple, loving her responsive nature. Hell, what didn't he love about her? They'd discovered so much more about each other through their letters, and he'd learned he'd been right the first time he'd seen her. She was the woman he was going to marry. She was the woman he loved.

  He pulled her closer, shifting when something dug into his thigh brushing the wound. Dismissing the pain, he cupped her breast, moulding it and reacquainting himself with the glory of her body. Breathless, he broke the kiss. “Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?"

  She gazed at him with such tenderness, his chest ached. “I think I do,” she murmured, her eyes bright with tears. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she backed against the side of the house and pulled him with her.

  Something in her pocket again pressed against his injury. Wincing, he plucked at her skirt. “I think you should take whatever this is out of your pocket, or better yet, just take off your dress."

  Laughing, she reached into her pocket and withdrew his watch. “I ought to give this back to you since it's causing so much trouble."

  He trailed his fingertip along her neckline. “I'm not sure I can accept it."

  "I don't understand.” Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  "I'd be willing to trade you for it.” Try as he might, he couldn't hide his smile as he reached into his jacket pocket for the tiny box he'd been carrying around since he'd returned to Britain. Opening the latch, he pulled the ring from the satin cushion and closed his fingers around it before tugging his hand from the pocket.

  "Have you gone daft? It's your wristwatch."

  She pressed the timepiece into his hand. “Honestly David, you'd think you had a head wound rather than a leg injury."

  "Shall I assume that since you're returning this that you'll accept my trade sight unseen?"

  Seemingly bewildered, she pursed her lips and stared at him for a long moment. “What are you on about?"

  Opening her fingers, he laid the ring on her palm. “A watch for a wedding ring.” He lifted her chin to stare into her wide eyes. “Marry me, Moira. Please."

  Her gaze darted between his face and her palm and a flash of worry seared his gut. Perhaps he should have waited until she'd had more time to readjust to his return. Perhaps he should have waited until he could afford a better ring. This one wasn't nearly as grand as she deserved.

  She slowly shook her head. “I don't need a ring, you silly man.” Her voice broke and she had to clear her throat to continue. “I just need you."

  His fear receded and was quickly replaced by growing joy. “Is that a yes?"

  She nodded. He plucked the ring from her hand and slipped it on her finger. The tiny diamonds and sapphires sparkled in the afternoon light, but their beauty paled in comparison to Moira.

  "I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick
with tears.

  "And I love you."

  A watery smile curved her lips and she pulled him toward the door. “Show me."

  He glanced pointedly at the house. “Is there anyone else home?” From what he'd heard while he was searching for her, she worked as domestic help for a prominent family. He doubted her employers would appreciate returning home to find them in bed.

  "They're in Scotland—on vacation,” she said as she opened the door and pulled him in into the kitchen, locking the door behind them.

  "Good.” Settling his hands at her waist, he backed her against the kitchen counter. “When are they due back?"

  "Next week some time.” Breathless, she smoothed her hands over his chest.

  "I might be ready to let you out of bed by then."

  Her breath caught, and he felt it in his hardening cock as he trailed his lips over her neck. “For a while,” he added as he took her lips again. Her sweet scent nearly brought him to his knees.

  He drove his hands through her hair, angling her head to delve more deeply into her mouth. The memory of her taste, her satiny skin, the wet clasp of her body—they'd given him comfort in the cold, muddy foxholes. Knowing that someday she'd be in his arms again had given him the strength to push through the frozen winters and past his fallen comrades.

  So grateful to have her in his arms again, he crushed her to him. Her lips parted for him as she eagerly welcomed his tongue. Her arms slid around him, her fingertips digging into his shoulders as she silently demanded more. God knew he was more than ready to give her what she wanted.

  With frantic motions, she tugged at his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his pants and smoothing her hands over his stomach. His cock throbbed painfully. It had been too damn long, and he was beginning to doubt he'd last more than a few thrusts. She made quick work of his buttons, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them to the cupboards above her head.

  Keeping her immobilized, he nibbled at her pouting lower lip. “As much as I want you,” he murmured between tastes of her mouth, “I have to insist on a bed, this time."