Page 4 of Rescued By the Major

“Yes.” I cough to clear my throat and almost gasp at the way his hands spread over my stomach, like he’s determined to keep me close even with that simple movement. “We fell asleep.”

It’s a simple, unnecessary observation, but it comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. Proof of my nervousness. His laugh, though, chases away some of the insecurity I’m feeling. It’s genuine and kind, not mocking or cruel.

“Can’t blame either one of us for that, I guess,” he says, and I feel his lips against the back of my head for a fleeting moment, an almost kiss that I catch myself wishing was real. “Cuddling was the perfect way to get warm and we were both worn out after the trek back here. Perfectly normal.”

Trying to sound cool and unaffected when I feel completely otherwise, I shrug. “We burned a lot of calories. It was quite the exercise.”

He laughs again and this time my stomach flips at how gravelly it is as I realize what other type of exercise he might be thinking of. Other ways we could burn calories together. Except that I’m not that type of woman. I'm not the one who could bring a man to his knees in an instant, to make him want me so much immediately. No, I’ve never been her. I’m the one a man grows to like, after he gets to know her, finds her cuter as the time goes by.The woman a man settles for.

Except, sometimes, I want to be that first woman. At least once.

In the safety of this cabin, in the comforting red glow from the fireplace, I wonder how that woman would act right now. If she were here instead of me.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, and his hand moves, stroking swirling little circles over the skin of my belly. “You just went all tense. Something wrong?”

The sense of being separated from the real world pushes down on me and the answer slips from me as my defenses collapse. “That I’m not this kind of girl.”

He chuckles, and shifts, gathering me a little closer so the heat from him soaks into me in even more places. “What kind of girl would that be?” His voice has turned husky, and I wish I could see what he looks like. Except that maybe because I can't see him, I can answer honestly again.

“The kind who wakes up next to a handsome man and knows what to do.”

His fingers go still, and embarrassment heats my face as I realize I’ve shocked him. Stepped across some line that I once again missed.

Except then he says, “You think I’m handsome?”

The urge to twist in his arms, to look him in the eyes and chase away the vulnerability I can hear beneath those words, hits me and I start to roll. His arms, though, lock down around me, and hold me in place, where I can feel every inch of him, all the muscles and sinews of his hard-earned body. Even the press of something long and hard digging into the softness of my butt. Why he won't let me see him I don't know, but there's no reason not to follow the path I've started down.

I close my eyes, and sigh. “So handsome. Like some hero in a book come to life. Finding me in the middle of a snowstorm, getting me to some place safe and warm, holding me while I sleep. Reminding me that someone in the world cares.”

Silence stretches between us and the fear that I’ve said too much almost strangles me. Then his lips drop to the exposed skin on the side of my neck and press in there. Again, that trace of a breath raises the tiny hairs, and I can’t help but whimper and tip my head as far as I can, offering him greater access.

“Eva,” he whispers, and I shiver, making him growl low. “You’re tempting me right now.”

“Good. Then maybe I’m actually doing this right.”

5

ANDERS

The scentof her clings to every breath I drag in, and I want to always be surrounded by it. To never go another second in my life without that sweet and spicy mix that is so unique to her. I’m a fool, but one night with her in my arms has shifted something deep within me and I have the urge to barricade us inside this place. To fight off anyone who might come knocking and chase them away.

The voice of doubt crops up at the back of my mind, the one that says that she’d never say such sweet things if she could see my face. See the scars that mark my skin, the missing pieces down low on my leg. That the proof of what I’ve been through would change that admiration in her voice to horror.

I push the thoughts away, focusing instead on how it feels to hold her in my arms. How her breathing turns ragged when I lightly run my teeth over her neck. How she shivers in my hold. All it takes is a little bit of roughness soothed by the press of my lips and I’m rewarded with a quiver that she can’t hide. She’s so responsive to such a small thing, and it instantly makes me wonder what she’ll be like when I can get my hands and mouth on more of her. When I can taste her sweetness exploding on mytongue as she screams my name. Even the idea makes my cock swell so fast it hurts and she whimpers when I grind against her.

“You’re the only fantasy here, sweetheart,” I whisper, her earlier honesty inspiring my own truth. “So soft on the outside, but a fighter underneath it all. Not one complaint when you were tired and cold, trusting me to get us both where we needed to be. Do you trust me now?”

She nods, an almost cry escaping from between her lips, and I wish I could see her face as my fingers continue tracing circles on the skin of her curved belly. I can envision it, her eyes closed, lips parted, and the beauty of that image hits me deep in the gut. I want to see that with my own eyes but not yet. Right now, this is for her, and I’m not going to ruin it with reality.

Her hand grabs mine, pulling it up and giving me permission to touch her breast, and that ache in my cock grows even more painful as my calloused fingertips brush over the hardened tip of her nipple. Even with that simple gesture, she arches and gasps out a sob. Like every little touch is too much and yet she doesn’t ask me to stop. Doesn’t pull away from me.

“What do you want next, Gracie?” I ask, surprised at how rough my voice has turned, emotion weighing it down as I try to catch a breath. “You tell me, sweetheart, and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Her fingers land on mine, grasping, and I mimic the movement, pinching her nipple between my rough pads, and she bucks in response.

“Oh, like that? Could I make you react like that forever and die a happy man? What else can I do?”

Her breathing is shallow, little sips of air, timed with each tweak of her nipple, and I can tell she’s squeezing her thighs together. Applying pressure where she needs it most.

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