Page 51 of Unloaded
He grabs me around the waist, jerking me to him. I can’t help laughing, and I notice he is smiling, too. “You’ve cast a spell on me.” He kisses me, forcing me onto my back. My legs parting to allow his body to slip between them.
We kiss and explore each other with our hands. His magnificent cock hardens as we play. Minutes later, he rolls on another condom and enters me slowly this time. It’s a much tighter fit this time. Either he’s grown, or I must be swollen. His thrusts are slow and lazy, and while it feels good, I want more.
I push against him. He pulls out, giving me a concerned look. I push harder on his chest, getting him to roll onto his back. I climb up and over him, straddling his waist. He stares at me with adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but it gets to me all the same.
Briefly I close my eyes committing this moment to memory. I want him to look at me that way every day for the rest of our lives. But he won’t. Either my stepfather will force me to go on the run again, or Rosco will push me away. Even if I manage to get free from my troubles, Rosco will never commit as long as he refuses to deal with his demons. Knowing he is willing to throw this all away hurts, a lot.
My heart tells my head there’s another way, another option, but I know it’s a lie. He’s been denying his past for far too long. I’m not special enough for him to face his demons, to slay them so we can have a chance. Besides with Vena out there, no one is safe as long as I’m around.
I open my eyes to stare back at him, hoping he can’t read my feelings. I lean down, kissing him briefly, then raise up to notch him at my entrance. I slam down and ride him like it’s the last time, because it could be. I take what I want, what I need, andhe lets me, holding my hips and helping me continue when my energy flags, until at last, we both come hard.
“Damn, angel,” he grins, pulling me down to rest over him, my arms and legs hanging off each side of him. “That was phenomenal. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I mumble sleepily, with a satisfied grin is on my face. This man has worn me out completely. I’ve never been so content.I could easily get used to this.
Tears spring into my eyes as I realize two critical things. First, I’m in love with a man who will never love me back, because he won’t allow himself to. Second and the most devasting is that I have to leave to be sure he lives.Fuck my life.
23
ROSCO
Lying in bed with Rachel draped over me, feeling the best I’ve ever felt, after having the best sex of my life, I feel a change in her. Her body tenses ever so slightly, and she sucks in a deep breath. Worry creeps in as I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t, just exhales heavily. The weight of her sigh is heavy, not physically, but something more potent.
“What’s wrong, angel?” I ask, wanting to know where her head is. She shakes her head without a verbal response. Something is wrong. Rachel is never at a loss for words. My face tenses with worry.
Does she regret what we’ve done?
If she’s regretting having sex with me, I’ll be devastated, even though I’d told her just hours ago this couldn’t mean anything.
Or is she upset because I insisted this could only be sex? If so, does that mean she wants more?
Hell, I want more. Images of us tangled together flash through my mind, because I can’t fathom being with anyone else after this. But can I take the chance, even knowing that being with me is not what is best for her?
I need to ask these questions, but I’m a coward, so I don’t. Instead I wrap my arms around her and hold her close,desperately trying to memorize this moment and how good she feels in my arms. I’m going to need it when the time comes to send her away.
To my relief she doesn’t push off but snuggles into me. So I hold her, brushing my left hand through her long locks. In a few moments, Rachel’s body completely relaxes, her breath even and deep in sleep. Laying here, listening to her breathe, my mind drifts to the dream I’ve had too many times.
It comes to me like a flash of lightening. I’d had the dream again last night. The one of First Lieutenant Montgomery standing before me holding my Ka-bar knife to her jugular. The one where I beg her not to do it over and over, but she does it every fucking time, except for last night.
This time it hadn’t been Brooke who’d held my knife in the dream, but Rachel. When I’d begged her not to do it, she’d lowered the knife and promised not to hurt herself. For the first time in over six years, the dream hadn’t ended with me waking up screaming and desperately trying to get the images of the First Lieutenant’s blood spraying out like a fountain, as she’d slit her own throat, out of my head.
Any other night, I’d have woken up in a sweat and been unable to get back to sleep. Last night, I’d slept better than I have since before that mission. The only thing different is the woman in my arms.
Yes, I’d had the dream, but it had been different this time. It had ended differently. I can only believe that I have Rachel to thank for it, but I won’t be able to tell her. She can never know how much she helped me this night. It’s too painful to talk about.
My phone buzzes on the night stand and draws my attention. I’m instantly alert. Without waking Rachel, I manage to grab my phone.Is someone about to breech my home?
“Robertson,” I bark into the phone, not bothering to see who’s calling. Rachel stirs a little but doesn’t waken.
“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Sunshine,” Marley snarks in greeting, “I thought you’d be in a much better mood this morning?” Her statement ends sounding more like a question with a hint of disappointment. She’s no doubt fishing for some juicy gossip for her, Luke, Bo, and Shelby to twitter on about. I’m not about to give it to them.
“Morning, Marley,” I reply, not taking the bait and answering her unspoken question.
“Well? Is Rachel okay?” Marley’s tone conveys her annoyance with me and my evasive tactics.
“I’m more than okay, Marley,” Rachel answers, her voice sounding rough from sleep. She lifts her head from my chest. She clears her throat before continuing, “How’s the baby? Did you have a rough night? Being out so late must have upset his routine.” There it is. My angel worrying about everyone else.
“I don’t think he even noticed.” Marley laughs. “He’s up every two hours regardless to nurse. He’s a hungry little bugger.”
