Razor Wire

by Lauren Gallagher

  Without breaking the kiss, she nudged me back a step. Then another. I let her guide me backward until my calves met the bed, and then we both sank onto the mattress.

  She drew back a little, meeting my eyes. Her forehead creased, and she swallowed.

  I caressed her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just . . . This is the first time I’ve . . .” She closed her eyes. “Since what happened.”

  I tucked her hair behind her ear. “Me too.”

  Reese met my eyes again. “If we’re going too fast, we can always stop.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to stop. Do you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Good.” I ran my hands down her sides. “I’m not letting that son of a bitch control this part of my life, too.”

  She grinned. “That’s my girl,” and kissed me.

  And suddenly this was more than kissing, more than touching. Nothing physical had changed, but somehow acknowledging we wanted this to go on had turned an inkling of arousal into something much bigger. We were still fully dressed, but I was in way, way over my head, and all I could think was more, more, more.

  I slid my hands under her shirt, and we both gasped as bare skin met bare skin.

  God. Yes. More.

  As if reading my mind, she sat up, and I pushed her shirt up over her head. Just as I expected, she was beautiful. Slim but curvy, and—

  That was a surprise. Sailors and ink went together like Sailors and swearing, but I hadn’t expected Reese to have tattoos. Now that her shirt was off, two were visible, though one was obscured by her bra strap on the side of her rib cage.

  On her upper arm, she had a master-at-arms eagle, and below it were three sets of initials, each with two dates beneath them. The end dates on all three were within two months of each other. She’d been to combat—I didn’t have to ask what a tattoo like that meant, and I definitely wasn’t going to ask in bed.

  I ran a fingertip over the visible part of the other tattoo. “I want to see the rest of it.”

  “Is that a polite way of saying you want me to take off my bra?”

  I batted my eyes. “Is it working?”

  Reese didn’t answer. She just reached back, unsnapped her bra, and tossed it aside.

  For a moment, I forgot she even had tattoos. She was just . . . breathtaking. I couldn’t resist touching her, running my hands over her perfectly proportioned breasts and hard nipples.

  Finally, I remembered the tattoo that had been partially covered and tilted my head to get a better look. It was a colorful sun with a smiling face, each tendril painstakingly detailed in red, orange, and yellow.

  I traced the edge of the design. “I didn’t even realize you had any.”

  She grinned. “Every girl’s got her secrets.”

  I returned the grin. “You have any more?”

  “Maybe.” She leaned in and kissed me again. “You’ll just have to see, won’t you?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “And I showed you mine . . .”

  “So I should show you mine?”

  “You don’t have to. But I would love to see.”

  “My tattoos?”

  “You.” She kissed me again. “All of you.”

  “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

  We separated and shed our clothes. I caught a glimpse of another tattoo on her hip, and she glanced at the one on my shoulder, but neither of us stopped for a longer look. She drew me in for another kiss. Her lips were so soft and gentle. I loved the way her hair felt between my fingers and the way her hands roamed my waist and hips, pressing in just enough to let me know how turned on she was.

  She pinched my nipple, and I whimpered. “Holy fuck . . .”

  “This okay?”

  “Yeah. They’re just . . . really sensitive. Really sensitive.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I put my hand over hers and squeezed, encouraged her to pinch it harder. “But it feels good.”

  “Good.” She teased them some more, with her fingers and her lips and teeth, and just as it became too intense, she started kissing her way up. And then she was on top of me, and we were wrapped up in each other, naked, kissing, nothing between us. I couldn’t remember ever being this aroused in my life.

  A shiver went through me, but her body weight over mine kept me mostly still.

  Immobile.

  The next shiver wasn’t quite so pleasant. Reese had a few inches on me. She was easily stronger than I was. If she wanted . . .

  She pushed herself up and met my eyes. “You okay? You tensed up.”

  “I’m . . .” I moistened my lips.

  “We don’t have to.” She cupped my face with a gentle hand. “We can stop if—”

  “No.” I ran my fingers through her long hair. “I don’t want to stop.”

  “Let’s just go slow, then,” she whispered. “I think we both need it that way.”

  I nodded. “Slow is good. Maybe on our sides.”

  “Okay.” She rolled over, drawing me with her. “Anytime you want to we can stop.”

  “Likewise.”

  But I didn’t want to stop, and her touch said she didn’t, either.

  We settled onto our sides and pulled each other into another warm embrace. Not only could I move now, but Reese didn’t have to hold herself up anymore. I rested my head on her arm, and her hand gently grasped my shoulder from behind. The other was completely free, and she took full advantage. I swore there wasn’t an inch of skin she didn’t caress.

  The last time I’d had someone’s hands on me, it had been rough and terrifying, every touch making me sick to my stomach. Deep down, fear lingered, ready to come to the surface and send me crashing back into that night.

  But the longer we held each other, exploring naked skin and kissing like we could do this forever, the more my tense muscles relaxed. With every brush of skin or lips, that fear settled. The only nerves that stayed near the surface now were the ones that came with the territory of being with someone new—excitement, the need to do everything right, the fear of being unable to please her.

  More than once, my mind tried to go back to that dark, dark place, but all I had to do was open my eyes and drink in Reese’s soft curves and distinctive tattoos, and I knew this was her, not him. Everything was okay. More than okay.

  Reese’s fingertips grazed the places where he’d gripped me, and though the ghost of his touch was there, her gentleness was like an anchor, keeping me in the present.

  I hadn’t felt even a little bit horny in months, but now I wanted this. Bad. The demons in my head couldn’t ruin tonight no matter how hard they tried. After all this time without being with a woman, and after what had happened with Stanton, I craved this. The gentleness, the mutual desire, the warmth of skin on skin. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to surrender to the need for another woman and the pleasure we could give each other.

  But, my God, I remembered now.

  I pushed Reese onto her back and kissed my way down to her collarbone. I met her eyes as I took her nipple between my lips and when I pressed my teeth in just enough to make her gasp. Holding her nipple between my teeth, I teased it with my tongue.

  “Holy shit . . .” She stroked my hair, her hand pausing now and again, and her fingers twitching like they were just about to grab on. “Fuck. Fuck, that’s good.”

  I grinned and then continued downward, and as I kissed my way past her navel, she parted her legs. She might’ve whispered a curse into the otherwise silent room, but for all I knew, it was my own heartbeat spelling out my desire for her.

  As I settled between her thighs, I wrapped an arm around each one, resting my hands on her hips to hold her steady.

  And then I went down on her.

  And almost lost my ever-loving mind.

  God, I hadn’t tasted pussy in so long, and the sweet tanginess of hers made my head spin. I took my time, not willing to rush this at all. Reese was clearly cu
rsing now—she was a Sailor, after all—and kneading my scalp while I explored her like I’d never done this before. I traced the edges of her pussy lips and then marveled at the way her clit felt against my tongue.

  “Oh fuck,” she whimpered. “You are so . . . good at . . .”

  I shifted onto one arm, keeping the other firmly over her hip to hold her still, and slipped two fingers inside her. Reese shivered and squirmed, cursed, gasped, cried out. Even as my tongue and jaw were starting to ache from the constant motion, I didn’t stop. Not until she’d come. And, fuck, she felt like she was close.

  She gasped, and her whole body tensed.

  But . . .

  Her gasp sounded more like she was startled, the tension in her body signaling alarm, not arousal.

  Something wasn’t right.

  I lifted my head. Her eyes were still closed, her lips still taut, but . . . different. Like she was closer to a grimace than anything pleasurable.

  I gently slipped my fingers free and pushed myself up over her so we were face-to-face. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  Rubbing a hand over her face, she swallowed hard. “I’m . . . Nothing.” She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  She lifted her head to kiss me. “I’m fine. And I loved what you were doing.” She licked her lips. “Do it again. Please.”

  “Are you—”

  “Please,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”

  I hesitated, but she kissed me again and repeated, “Seriously. I’m okay.”

  So I didn’t argue with her. I went down on her again, keeping her still with one arm over her hips. I slid my fingers back inside her, crooked them, and Reese moaned. She tried to buck against me, but I held her in place.

  As I teased her clit with my lips and tongue and slowly fucked her with my fingers, I glanced up at her. My God, she was gorgeous. Her skin was starting to flush, especially her face and neck, and the way she bit her lip and screwed her eyes shut and arched and writhed . . . I could’ve watched her do that all night long. I could’ve made her do that all night long.

  She pinched her nipples and squirmed, moaning as I kept teasing her. Her pussy tightened around my fingers, and she swore and gasped as I—

  Her body tensed up again.

  My heart skipped. I glanced at her and was about to lift my head to ask if she was all right, but she grabbed my hair. “D-don’t stop.”

  I hesitated—was she all right?—but didn’t stop. I licked her clit, finger-fucked her, everything I hoped she liked, and her moans and whimpers were made of pure pleasure.

  “Don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop doing . . . doing that . . . just like that . . .” She gasped for breath, gripping my hair so hard it stung. “Holy shit, baby! Oh, fuck . . .”

  I sped up just a little.

  “Oh my God!” She tensed, her pussy clenching around my fingers, and I kept circling her clit with my tongue until she whimpered and nudged my head away.

  She collapsed back onto the mattress. I carefully withdrew my fingers, lifted myself onto my arms and crawled up to kiss her. I was barely even over her before she threw her arms around me and pulled me down to her. She kissed me hard, her body still shaking under mine.

  When I came up for air, I met her eyes, and my heart stopped. “What’s wrong?” I brushed a tear off her cheek. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, smiling as she wiped her eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure?” My heart pounded. “I didn’t—”

  “It’s okay.” She wrapped her arms around me and held me, naked skin resting against naked skin. “Everything’s okay.” Her lips met mine, and there was no hesitation in her kiss, no reluctance or fear. I still didn’t understand why she’d teared up like that, but I did understand that she hadn’t wanted to stop.

  “I can’t even remember the last time I came so hard.” She stroked my hair. “You’re amazing.”

  I grinned. “Then I haven’t lost my touch?”

  “If you have, I want to be there when you get it back, because holy fuck.” She didn’t give me a chance to respond before she kissed me again, and any witty retort I might’ve had was gone the second our lips met.

  She slipped her hand between my legs. I parted them for her, hungry for her touch, and moaned into her kiss as her fingertips teased my pussy lips. When I pressed back, trying to get her to the area that desperately needed attention, she laughed softly and drew a featherlight line around—but without touching—my clit.

  “You’re evil,” I murmured.

  “Mm-hmm. I am. But you—”

  “Please, Reese.” My back arched, which pressed my pussy against her fingers and my breasts against hers, and it didn’t do a damned thing to relieve any of this tension. “I want . . . I want to come.”

  “Do you?”

  “Please.”

  “Well, since you asked nicely . . .”

  I tried to speak but couldn’t, because she’d found the most delicious rhythm, two fingers circling slowly and gently with my clit between them. As she did, she nudged me, and I didn’t resist, letting her push me onto my back. She wasn’t on top of me this time, instead lying beside me, and she kissed my neck as she kept on circling my clit and turning my entire body into liquid.

  I pushed against her hand again, rocking my hips to complement the way her fingers moved, and between her kiss and her touch, I was in heaven. She teased me, and I ran my hands all over her body—her flat stomach, her gorgeous breasts, her beautifully curving waist. Fuck, everything about her was a turn-on. Her body. Her kiss. Her touch.

  Her fingers moved faster. Faster. Holy shit . . .

  My breath caught. My whole body felt like it was about to melt, or shatter, or somehow do both at the same time. My vision went white.

  And then I came.

  And I knew why she’d cried.

  Release. Pure, foundation-rattling release. Nearly all the tension I’d been carrying broke free at once, and the rest was shaken free by the electricity coursing through my veins. I was flying, trembling, coming apart at the seams and loving every goddamned second of it.

  Little by little, Reese backed off, and my orgasm tapered. I slowly came back down, settling to earth beside her, and the exhilarating sensation lingered.

  Our surroundings came back into existence like a developing Polaroid. The bed. The four walls. Hawaii on the outside. All the reasons we were here to begin with.

  But even as the familiar sick feeling crept back in, I felt better than I had in a long time. Liberated in some small but weirdly significant way.

  It was as if all the demons in my head had been, if only for a few breathless seconds, silenced. They were still there, of course. Maybe one or two had been exorcised, but the rest had just temporarily shut the fuck up. Those few seconds of silence had taken a massive weight off my shoulders. The demons weren’t gone. They wouldn’t magically disappear. Some wouldn’t go away anytime soon, some probably wouldn’t go away at all.

  But for the first time, I had an inkling of hope that they might go away.

  The room was starting to get uncomfortably cool, so we pulled the sheet up over us and kept right on kissing and touching. Even just lying here like this, lazily making out under a rough hotel sheet, felt amazing. Like I could finally touch someone without breaking down, and someone was still willing to touch me without hurting me.

  After a while, I moistened my lips. “Is it wrong that I already want to do it again?”

  Reese propped herself up on her arm. “If that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.”

  I laughed, running my fingers through her disheveled hair. “Don’t you need to go out and have a cigarette?”

  Reese shook her head. “No. I’m good.”

  “You don’t smoke after sex?”

  “No. I only smoke for stress relief. After sex is . . .” She smiled and caressed my face. “Well, after everything we just did, I don’t really need to relieve any stress, do I?”

&n
bsp; I grinned. “I guess you don’t.”

  Kim cuddled up next to me with her head on my shoulder, and for the longest time we just lay there in each other’s arms beneath the covers.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this. This postcoitalsigh feeling had been a stranger for quite a while.

  I’d never had more cathartic sex in my life, and my emotions were running a million miles an hour in a million different directions. I wanted to laugh out loud. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hold on to her and never let go. I wanted to be sick.

  That cigarette suddenly seemed more necessary than I’d thought, but I held off. A hit of nicotine sounded absolutely heavenly, but not quite as good as lying here beside Kim. Even if lying here beside Kim was part of the problem.

  Jesus fuck. I’m going crazy, aren’t I?

  Closing my eyes, I kissed the top of Kim’s head and ran my fingers up and down her back, all the while telling myself that I was okay. Nothing bad had happened, no matter how much I’d convinced myself it would.

  Nevertheless, even while I’d been caught up in her, they’d been there. Not touching me—neither of them had been that gentle—but there. Waiting in the wings to take over and turn this amazing night into something hellish.

  I fucking hated that feeling. For about a year after it happened, I’d been afraid to look over my shoulder—even more afraid not to—because I was sure they’d be there. Eventually, I’d shaken that off, but tonight, it had been back. As I’d tried to lose myself in Kim, there’d been that steadily growing certainty in the back of my mind that if I’d opened my eyes, she’d be gone and I’d be back in that makeshift office inside an under-ventilated, overheated shipping container. Held down, powerless, terrified.

  The memory sent a shiver through me.

  Kim lifted herself up and met my eyes. “You okay?”

  I nodded. “Are you?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” A slight smile played at her lips. “Better than I have been in a while.”

  “Good.” I ran my fingers through her dark hair but couldn’t raise much of a smile.