by Jade Alters
I wasn’t planning on taking time out. I figured Stone would have something to patch me up with. Unfortunately, my partner had other ideas. Hale took one look at me and steered me back to bed by the shoulders.
“Nope,” he said. “No way. Sleep.”
“You can’t go out by yourself.”
“I’ll recon for Blake and Stone on their shift. Don’t worry about what I’m going to do. You just… get your head back down onto the pillow. You look like death.”
To tell the truth, I felt like it. To some degree, I was grateful to sink back down into the sheets — but before I fell asleep again, the dominant emotion was guilt. I wasn’t here to lie down and languish in the cabin. I was here to perform a task for our government, and in support of the rest of my pack. I was here to keep my country safe. I was…
I was asleep again within minutes.
When I opened my eyes again, the room wasn’t spinning so badly around me, but I was still disoriented. I had no conception of what time it was. With Hale’s bed empty beside me and the border of light around the curtains fairly dim, I could only assume that he, Blake and Stone were still out working. The cabin was quiet enough.
I slipped my feet out of bed, but soon realized I wasn’t healthy enough to stand. The exertion of trying had me enveloped in a coughing fit.
“Preston…?”
I shrank a little as the petite, blonde form of Jessica Dorsey stepped in through the doorway. Her smile was soft and apologetic. “Sorry to barge in,” she said. “I don’t want to invade your privacy. Just… that’s a hell of a cough, you know? Had to make sure you weren’t dying.”
“Not dying,” I clarified, throat still raspy. “Just sick.”
“Uh huh. Hale said you weren’t doing too good,” she said, leaning against the wall slightly. I hadn’t spent much time with her yet, as much as I loved to hear her talk to the others. She was so bright and bubbly, and I didn’t feel like my quiet sarcasm quite measured up.
Okay, maybe I was a little shy.
“Here,” she said, ducking back out again. “This is silly of me. Let me get you some water.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted, but she had already disappeared. When she returned only a minute or so later, it wasn’t just water in her hands. She was holding a tray, complete with a couple of slices of toast and a chopped-up red apple. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“And you don’t have to eat it,” she insisted. “Not if you don’t feel like it. I just wanted you to have something, just in case. Sorry, the toast might be a little cold now. I did keep it under a little heat, but…”
“It’s perfect,” I assured her, already trying to sit up a little more in bed. Whatever Jess said, leaving this food uneaten was not an option. She’d gone to the trouble of making it for me, so I’d try to eat it. End of story. “This is sweet of you. Thank you. Please don’t feel like you have to play nurse.”
“Please,” she said. “I’m always the mom friend anyway.”
She hovered at the doorway. From the crooked twist in the corner of her smile, I began to realize that I wasn’t the only one who was shy. Knowing that made things a little easier, somehow.
“You don’t strike me as the mom friend,” I countered, leaning forward to adjust the pillow behind me. As I struggled, Jess crossed the room to take it out of my hands. “Okay, I take that back. Yes, you do.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, with playful sarcasm. This close to me, I could smell her perfume — light enough not to make my dizzy head feel worse, but still distinctively fresh and floral. She was summer personified, especially when she smiled. Like now. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Here I am telling you I don’t want to hijack your privacy, and now I’m fluffing up your pillows. I can’t help myself.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Don’t be sorry.”
“I actually kind of figured I scared you,” she said. The shyness tugged her gaze out of mine, but she managed to pick it back up. When our eyes met again, I saw a flutter of attraction that took me aback. So far, I’d figured she had a crush on Stone.
Maybe I was wrong.
“I wasn’t trying to be unfriendly,” I said. “I hope it didn’t come across like that. And you don’t scare me, either. You’re great. I’m just… kind of quiet, I guess.”
“The strong, silent type,” Jess said. “I know it.”
She took a few steps back to sit in the armchair. I felt my whole body relax at the thought that she wouldn’t be leaving any time soon, and it took my breath away as much as the coughing fit had. I’d spoken to her so little so far that it had escaped notice, but… the way I felt in her company, particularly under the heat of her sole attention, was overpowering.
“Well, Preston,” she said, folding her hands. “Now you’re a captive patient, no more strong-and-silencing. I want to get to know you while I have the chance.”
It was much easier to ignore the lights on my vision and the room swaying around me with her pretty face to focus on. I shrugged, turning one of the rings in my ear and trying to play it cool.
“Sure,” I said. “What do you want to know?”
Jessica
It would be a lie to say I wanted Preston to stay sick. Obviously, I wanted him feeling at his best — but by the same token, I couldn’t honestly say I regretted his illness either. He seemed to be less uncomfortable every day, and in the interim I had plenty of time to spend one-on-one with him, learning his unique and playful sense of humor without the hustle and bustle of his three brothers-at-arms to distract me.
Blake and Hale’s handsomeness still intimidated me, and I could barely take my mind off Stone. Now I just happened to have another North man making me blush too, and this one was at home 24 hours a day.
It didn’t help that I seemed to make him shy too. The tips of his ears lit up red whenever I came into the room, and it put a crooked smile on his face that I couldn’t stop thinking about. As he started healing up and feeling a little better, it wasn’t far from my mind that we could be so much more than colleagues if one of us just made the first move.
It was four days later that I heard his bedroom door creak open behind me. I was standing at the hob, getting some bacon ready for his lunch, and when I turned around to check on the sound, I was pleasantly surprised to see him emerging from the room.
“Hey,” I said, beaming. “You’re up and out.”
“At last,” he agreed. “The cabin isn’t spinning around me. I feel pretty clear-headed, actually. Seems like I turned a corner.”
“Good! That’s what I like to hear.”
We shared a smile. I had to duck my head under the pretense of focusing on the bacon; I could feel my heart lifting in my chest.
“I’m gonna grab a shower while I still can,” he said eventually. I could still hear the smile in his voice. “Then, uh… that bacon smells really good.”
“It’s all yours,” I promised. “You get yourself clean. I’ll be ready to fill you up when you get back.”
The sound of the shower switching on had my heart racing. I was already flushed in the warmth of the kitchen, but now I was heating up in an entirely different way. An image of him standing under the stream of water, his pale, bare skin slippery with soap, hung around vivid and relentless in my head. I swallowed, giving up on shutting it out. Maybe if I embraced the thought, it would go away of its own accord.
I could hear blood rushing in my ears. This intensity of feeling was so unlike me that I was almost concerned. The last time I’d fallen so head over heels for anybody, I’d been a teenager. Now here I was feeling pulled towards Preston like I’d been drugged — only it didn’t feel like a bad thing. I wasn’t unwilling. Quite the opposite. It felt like I was coaxing myself into a state of desperate hunger.
How long had I been single? What had it done to me?
And when had the shower stopped running?
I leaned against the counter with both hands, blinking down at the wooden surface. My heart was pounding
hard enough that I could see the shifting fabric of my shirt fluttering. In a minute or two he’d be coming back into the room, and I needed to get a hold on myself.
“Jess…?”
Too late. I turned to face him, trying to pull on a mask of normalcy. If it worked, I’d be surprised. I could feel my eyes raking over his handsome face, reading the concern on his features. Watching a bead of water drip from his pushed-back hair over the angular lines of his face. Seeing the way the light caught his premature silver streak.
Was I sick, I wondered? Was this how he had felt, days ago? I didn’t feel dizzy, but I didn’t feel like myself either. As he crossed the room towards me, eyes darkening as the concern left and something else, much deeper and more confident, replaced it.
“I just… I had this idea that you needed me,” he said, voice low and sincere. “I can’t explain it. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.”
It was like he was explaining it to himself as much as to me. Maybe he felt the same strange pull that I did. Maybe it had just been way too long since I’d gotten laid.
He swallowed, and I watched the bob of his throat as he took another few prowling steps closer to me — then his tongue, darting out to wet his lips. Back against the counter, I tilted back my neck to look up at him as he approached. He was so tall. Even as he reached me and I smoothed my hands up over his arms, I had to stand on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to push you. But there’s just… something about you.”
“You’re not pushing me.”
“No?” he said. His eyes were so careful and serious. “You want it?”
“I want it. Want you. Yes.”
A wave of relief hit both of us at once. He leaned down to close the gap between us, pressing his lips down against mine. I wasn’t sure how things had escalated so quickly, but now that they had I had no complaints. No regrets. I tangled my hands into the still-damp hair on the back of his head, moaning quietly against his lips at the pressure of his hips against mine. Already, I could feel how rock-hard he was against me; his hands scored a fire-hot line over the shape of my hips, down towards my thighs.
“You’re so beautiful.”
I groaned, head tipping back as his hands caressed back up my side. “Don’t.”
“You are,” he insisted, leaning down to press a line of not-so-gentle kisses on my neck. “Is it wrong to tell you I can’t stop thinking about you? All the time, ever since we got here. Right from the start.”
I felt like I was falling, even pinned between his firm body and the wooden curve of the counter at my back. My heartbeat was picking up by the seconds. “No,” I said, tipping my head back for his access. “It isn’t wrong. I — yeah. Me too…”
It wasn’t a lie. I just thought it best not to tell him that I’d felt similar things for all the North boys, in different ways. At different times.
I closed my eyes, feeling him take my weight.
“Shall I take you somewhere else?”
“God. Yes.”
My legs fastened tight around him. I could feel his heart pounding against mine, our chests pressed close together as he lifted me through the kitchen and to the doorway of the room he shared with Hale. As he laid me down on the bed and stepped back to pull off his shirt, I took one moment to drink in how surreal this was — as though a naughty dream had come to life.
Judging by the bulge in his briefs as he tugged his jeans down, this would be a very naughty dream indeed.
I pulled my shirt over my head, hair already a little messy in my ponytail. I wished I had worn more exciting underwear today, but Preston didn’t seem to mind. His eyes darkened as he sank down to the bed, filling my chest with power and pride as he drank in the sight of my near-bare chest.
“You’re beautiful.”
“You’ve barely seen me,” I insisted, feeling a blush spread down my chest and to my thighs. He slid a hand over my leg and my stomach; I swallowed hard, trying to be patient but eager for the pressure of his hand between my legs.
“I’ve seen enough to know,” he said.
“You’ve seen enough?”
He realized his mistake. “Uh… no. Definitely not.”
I grinned, appreciating the way his brain seemed to stall. Was I really that attractive? I’d never felt particularly ugly, but right now I felt like a goddess. Like I somehow matched the way he made me feel.
But that couldn’t possibly be true. Could it?
“Can I…?” His fingertips strayed to the front of my pants.
“Yes.”
Every gesture was careful. When he leaned close to kiss me again, catching my lips like I’d starved him of my touch for hours, I knew exactly how he felt. My body was practically aching with the desperation. Whether his hands were slow out of shyness or respect, I couldn’t wait much longer.
“Preston, I… please.”
He pulled back, eyes roving over me — catching on the strip of see-through lace at the waistband of my panties. It drove me wild to see him look at me like that. I teased my hand through the stripe of premature silver in his hair, and groaned as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss over the fabric between my legs.
“Preston,” I begged.
“Sorry,” he said, nuzzling his face into my thigh. “You’re just… wow. You’re a lot to look at.” With an apologetic grin, he shuffled back up the bed to wrap his arm around me and kiss me again, letting me wrap one leg around him. I could feel his hard cock straining for me.
“This isn’t too fast for you?”
“God, no,” I said — and it was true. I’d never moved so quickly before in my life, but I’d also never been so sure. I didn’t feel vulnerable in the arms of this strong soldier, even knowing how easily he could snap me in half. I didn’t feel shy or degraded at the thought of his eyes on my naked body. Even as he unclasped my bra and swallowed as it fell away, entranced by the sight of me, I could only read desire in his eyes. There was nothing holding me back, and only snowballing desire pushing me forward.
He gave me his hand first, his fingers arched and breathtakingly gentle as he lifted the fabric at my crotch aside. Every time his flickering touch increased, I thought I might lose myself then and there, before he even filled me — but then his touch would lighten again, and pull back, and lower me to a desperate, melting simmer. By the time he finally reached up to slip my panties down, lifting my leg up high on his hip, I was barely coherent.
“You tell me how you want it,” he murmured, his forehead pressed to mine. “Don’t let me hurt you.”
I’d rather that than wait a second longer, I thought. Instead, I said, “Yes. Just… yes.”
I’d never been so ready without lubricant. When he slipped inside me, hot and tight and willingly eager, I gasped and arched into him, feeling exactly how deep his cock curled inside me. He gave me a couple of slow, gentle moments to adjust, rolling his hips to let me feel the shape of him — then, careful and strong still, he shifted me onto my back and kissed the breathlessness out of me.
“You’re beautiful,” he said again. Then he thrust into me, still slow enough to feel every electric sensation. He slipped a hand between us to tease at my stomach, my nipple, my clit — I lost track of his fingertips in the shared body heat and the way his cock felt, driving all sensible thought out of my mind.
It was incredible to be had like this — gentle like a long-term lover, but with all the spontaneity and excitement of a first time. He had me shuddering to a prickly-hot climax within minutes. Then another — and once he finally came in me, deep and groaning and handsome as in old Hollywood despite the tattoos and the piercings, he didn’t get up yet. He pulled out and lay close to me, sharing my breath as that slick, talented hand worked me to one last mounting, desperate orgasm, my hand gripping death-tight at his hard-working arm.
I felt his fond, soft kisses. I knew that I was curling up against him, dizzy with heat and exhaustion. Then I lost track and fe
ll asleep in the comfort of his arms and the scent of his hair.
It wasn’t just the way he loved me that felt familiar. Everything that filled my senses was like a husband I’d forgotten about — some lover from a parallel world that I’d never met before. I knew the feel of his skin on mine, and his heartbeat; the sound of his sighs, and the taste of his lips as he kissed me back awake.
“You okay?” he asked. “Seemed like I tired you out there.”
“You did,” I admitted, suddenly a little shy now that I was out of the eye of the storm. “That was… wow. Wow, Preston.”
He smiled. I saw shyness in him too, and it steeled me. When he leaned to kiss me again, catching my lips in another sweet kiss, I felt a little more assured.
This was right. It just was, somehow.
We dressed slowly, showered separately, and somehow got back to our day. If he was a little more touchy with me, then that was only a pleasant thing — and I had to bat his hands away every time I started cleaning something away, as though he felt awkward about letting me do my job now that we were newly intimate. For as normal as it felt between us, though, we didn’t have any discussions about it.
Were we something now? It felt like it, but we’d made no promises. He hadn’t even mentioned the other guys, but the thought of them now made me guilty. That was foolish, wasn’t it? As though any of them would want me anyway. The fact that Preston did was incredible enough. I couldn’t cause any fights.
Still, it felt like a bad idea to tell them — even Stone, who I had been friendliest with. If Preston told them about it, then I wouldn’t mind, but I already resolved to keep my part in this to myself.
Where it led from here, I couldn’t possibly say. I just knew that the way he looked at me was exciting, and that my heart skipped a beat at the thought of finding another opportunity for him to touch me again.
Blake