“Why are we talking about this? I haven’t even slept with Travis.”
“But you think you will?”
“It’s strange to put them side by side. My awareness of Travis is so different from my awareness of Jase.”
“Explain.”
“With Jase it was easy companionship. Like I’ve known him forever.”
“And with Travis?”
Caitlin considered this for a beat. “It’s electric. Sometimes there are flashes of familiarity. It jolts me like an emotion wanting to escape a visceral part of me.”
“That’s excellent, Caitlin. Your mind may not remember. But something intrinsic in your consciousness is trying to connect with Travis. In amnesia patients, that happens when there’s a very strong bond already in place.”
I’m not the one you love.
Oh, Jase, what have you done? Caitlin thought as she remembered Jase’s parting words.
There was a knock on the door. It was the receptionist.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Lester, but Admiral Porter is waiting in your office.”
Dr. Lester didn’t look pleased. “Tell him we’ll be right out.”
When the door closed, the shrink turned her attention back to Caitlin. Her expression was grave. “I told the Admiral it was too soon. You know why they’re subjecting you to this battery of tests and psyche evaluations?”
“The hundred million the Russian mob is after,” Caitlin stated flatly. “Is there any chance that’s also the reason why Travis wants me to get better?”
Dr. Lester looked at her sharply. “What does your gut tell you?”
“He doesn’t care about the money.”
Dr. Lester nodded. “It’s not healthy that you’re harboring a smidgen of doubt regarding your husband’s intentions. Trusting each other is very important and that’s our ultimate goal. Once you trust him, you can open your heart and learn to love him again. I want to discuss this at length with you at our next session. But right now, let’s get you to the Admiral.”
Travis emptiedthe rounds of his gun into the dummy target in rapid fire. There was a large hole where the head of the FBI-Q-target paper used to be. He ejected the magazine and slotted in another one. He took a deep breath and resumed firing, punching in fourteen perfectly aimed bullets into the same target, eventually shredding it. The slide of the gun pulled back automatically when the chamber emptied, but it took a couple of clicks before Travis realized this.
I’m losing it.
He lowered his gun, pointing it down range, and leaned both hands on the shelf in front of him. Nothing like a firing range to release pent-up tension. This time it wasn’t helping.
He needed sex.
Caitlin with her multi-faceted hazel eyes, luscious tits, and gorgeous ass. She tested his control every day. But this morning was the closest he’d been to snapping. He found her dressed in a skimpy robe over what could be a skimpier nightie, bent in front of the refrigerator raiding its contents, and presenting him with a very tempting display of her curvy, tight ass. He was not made of stone, damn it. His cock responded readily. His hands wanted nothing more than to grip her hips and drag her against him and rub his erection all over her. Another part of him wanted to spin her around and lift her against the wall, wrap her legs around him, and ram his hard-as-nails dick deep inside her. In his fantasy, she wasn’t wearing underwear either, and she was slick and ready for him. He’d pound the shit out of her.
Shit. That wasn’t helping. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. His goggles steamed up, and the odor of lead was suddenly suffocating. His erection was already straining against his trousers. He needed to leave the shooting range. He quickly put his gun, extra magazines, and cartridges into his tactical bag.
He slid the strap on his shoulder and kept the body of the bag in front of his crotch as he willed the blood in his dick to flow north to his head. God knows he needed some circulation around his brain to think coherently again.
When he left the firing-range, he was surprised to see Nate waiting nonchalantly for him, leaning against a wall with his arms folded in front of his chest.
“What are you doing here?” Travis removed his ear protection and goggles. “Weren’t you due back tomorrow?”
“I was. But Emily called me last night. Said if I don’t return soon, she won’t be held liable for employer homicide.”
Travis scowled. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“Uh . . . huh,” Nate eyed him skeptically. “There’s a reason you’re doing rapid-fire shooting and killing your target boards?”
