Page 60 of Shephard

As he lowered his head less than two minutes later, nuzzling against my neck, his hoarse whisper was just something else to keep me fully aroused.

“We’re just beginning.”

CHAPTER 16

Shephard

“Ty znayesh’, chto ya ub’yu tebya, mal’chik.”

You do know I’m going to kill you.

I would never forget the Russian’s laugh, the way he’d dug his ragged nails into my scalp until blood had run down both sides of my face.

He’d meant the words, almost making good on his promise. I’d seen his face more than once the night before in crazy dreams. Maybe that’s the reason I was still sucking back coffee.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of me. At least the light of day had presented another series of images.

A beautiful, naked body.

Distractions.

I’d become damn good at ignoring them over the years. It had been a learned skill, the training often brutal. I’d spent almost eight months of my life after leaving the Marines in what had been considering deep coaching. The truth was every day had been brutal, my body and mind pushed to limits the military hadn’t even thought of.

I’d equated it to being a prisoner of war only with more physical anguish.

One piece of the harsh environment had been learning to ignore everything around me.

Every sound.

Every scent.

Every vision, no matter how beautiful or horrific.

The things the group had done to ensure I wouldn’t be distracted were horrific and savage. I wouldn’t wish them on anyone. I also wouldn’t want a single soul in the world to see what I’d been forced to watch.

I don’t know why or how I’d endured the long, depraved months. I certainly hadn’t left the program the same man I’d gone in as.

However, I’d learned over the few years the reason for their torturous brutality. It had been just something else that had no doubt kept me alive.

The training had remained even after months of being nothing more than a law-abiding civilian.

Until her.

It still bothered me I couldn’t keep my hands or mind off Denise. I should toss her aside. Both of us had enjoyed the sex, but wehad separate lives. Still, the moment I’d walked out her door, I’d hungered for more.

Now I sat in my kitchen, nursing my third cup of coffee and trying to break the cycle of want. Want. Wasn’t that a useless word in the English language? Yeah, I wanted for a lot of things, most nothing I could achieve in this lifetime. I’d stopped trying over the years. It had been something else indoctrinated out of me.

I was a soldier. Nothing more.

I wasn’t allowed to think or want.

The notion remained instilled.

I’d been staring at the financials after taking a jog very early that morning. The rough terrain had been exactly what I’d needed. The ache in my muscles felt good for a change. But the crisp air and physical exercise hadn’t rid thoughts of her from my mind.

Hell, I’d even enjoyed the homecooked meal. My idea of homecooked was to shove a frozen pizza into the oven, half the time burning the damn thing. Food had become a necessity, my habit of eating Marine-style rations still something I did from time to time.

I’d even brought a box with me. How pathetic was that?