by Jean Stokes
Dwane eyes me again, and swallows, shaking his head. "I've got another assessment tomorrow," he says. "I applied to fill Aaron's place. I'm going."
"When you're all messed up from the fight?" I gasp. "Dwane, how can you be serious?"
He shrugs. Like it's that simple.
"If you're going to doubt me more, to pity me more, I'd rather you just left," he says. He stands to one side and opens the door for me. I can't think of anything to say. I feel numb as I leave, and when the door clicks shut behind me, I stand there frozen. I close my eyes, feeling the tears start to fall.
Chapter 15 - DWANE
I lean back against the door after Sadie leaves, closing my eyes. My hip and entire leg aches—the punch Ethan gave me really messed me up, tightening everything up until it feels like all those weeks of training did nothing.
I growl to myself, and shake my head. No. I'm not letting that guy, of all people, be the reason I can't pass the assessment. It's mind over matter. I just have to try harder, push myself more. I can do it. I have to do it.
As soon as I hear Sadie's car start, I want to run out and apologize. The anger fades quickly, leaving a simmering outrage. She pities me. She feels sorry for me. I'm just a project she failed to complete.
That's fine. I have all the tools and parts I need to complete myself.
Still, my chest aches as I stay leaning against the door, rubbing my thigh to try and get rid of the pain. There's nothing I can do that won't remind me of her. I can't stretch without remembering how her hands felt on me, the warm weight of her thigh in my lap, her gentle encouragements and soft laughter.
I can't use warm or ice packs without remembering her first recommendation for dry oats in a sock. Even now, the thought makes me smile bitterly and huff a laugh.
I rub my free hand over the back of my neck and sigh heavily. I have less than twenty-four hours before I need to report for the second assessment. I already know the sergeant doesn't have high hopes for me, but I'm determined to try.
You can't win if you don't play.
Damn Burchell brothers. Damn Ethan Burchell especially. What was I supposed to do when someone points a gun at the woman my friend loves? When they attack my clan, and confess to messing with Scott's farm and threatening him with bankruptcy and ruin? Of course, I had to fight. Sadie would have fought too, and just because I have a bad leg, she can't expect me to have done nothing.
I don't like what this anger turns me into. This bitterness, clawing at my chest. My own damn fault, and now I'm taking it out on the first woman to really give a damn about me in years.
I'll call her. Later. After the assessment. I need to focus.
*
It's satisfying to know that the Burchell brothers have finally been locked up for their crimes, adding a nice assault charge to their laundry list of crimes and misdemeanors. I'm glad to know that, if I pass this test and have to leave, Scott, Aaron, and Jamie won't have to worry about them or their persistent threats.
I report first thing in the morning for the second assessment. I pass all the weight and health requirements, because despite my forced level of sedentary life, I'm still in good shape. As I walk out to the field, I can see Sergeant Monroe already looking at me like he expects me to fail, but I'm determined. I won't let him see me fall. I can do this.
He beckons me forward when it's my turn, and I force my gait as steady as possible as I approach. I bend down and lift the weighted rucksack, sliding it onto my back.
He points to a thin pole a few yards away. "Sprint there and back, fast as you can," he says. I nod, and brace myself. He starts the timer, and I take off running.
I make it two steps before I fall flat on my face, the added weight of the rucksack knocking the wind out of me. Pain shoots up my leg and I groan, grimacing against the grass.
I grit my teeth and punch the ground. "Damn it!" I yell, pushing myself up onto my hands and my good knee. I turn and see the sergeant looking at me, his eyes full of pity. It just makes the anger worse.
He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, son," he murmurs. "Not this time."
I put my head in my hands, fighting back another enraged snarl. Losing my temper won't do me any favors. My leg hurts worse than it ever has—worse than when I first got injured, worse than post-surgery, worse than the first session I had with Sadie.
Monroe comes over and helps me get the rucksack off, and pulls me to my feet. "You're just not at the finish line yet," he says wisely, squeezing my shoulder. "But the race isn't over."
I frown at him.
"I know you'll come back eventually," he says. "But until you're ready—and really ready, not just when your ego wants to think you're ready—you'll be put on leave of absence."
I open my mouth to argue, but a look from him silences me.
"That's an order, soldier," he says, gentle but firm. "This isn't pity. I'm doing this because I believe in you, but I'm not putting you in the field and getting you injured or killed because you're too eager."
I look down at our booted feet, and nod, once. "Sir," I say, when his hand falls away. He pauses and makes a vague sound for me to continue. "I'd like to continue training with Holloway, if that's alright."
He smiles. "Of course, Private," he says. "Dismissed."
*
It's still early when I get to Sadie's house, but I know she's an early riser. I can see the light on in what I assume is her bedroom window, as well as in the kitchen, though I can't see her inside.
I look up, fingers flexing on the steering wheel when I see her silhouette pass behind the curtains of her bedroom. From the motion and angle of her arms, I guess she's doing her hair.
I press my lips together, wanting to knock on the door. Seeing her again is the only thing I've thought about since leaving Fort Bliss to start my indefinite leave of absence.
But now that I'm here . . .
I'm not a coward, but sitting here in my car beside her driveway, I'm terrified. In a way that not even live combat or bleeding out after my injury, has ever scared me before. I was so awful to her the last time we spoke, and I'm still so angry. I don't want to lash out at her again.
She passes in front of her window again, and it becomes painful—the idea that I might not see her at all. It's enough to get me out of my car and limping my way up the path to her front door. The fall hasn't done my knee any favors, and I can feel myself kicking out to the side, but the other option is to literally drag my feet, and I don't want to do that.
I knock, and step back, holding my breath as I hear her come down the stairs. The light comes on in the hallway, and then the door opens. She looks as beautiful as she always has. Her hair is tied up in a loose bun, and she's wearing an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants that look like she's had them since high school with how worn and comfortable they are.
She arches a brow, and I clear my throat.
"Sadie," I say. "I regret how I behaved before. It was stupid to lash out at you when all you've ever tried to do is help me. I got caught up in my own macho crap, and I didn't want to listen to your advice on my own limitations. I didn't want to accept them. But I have to."
Her other eyebrow joins the first. She folds her arms across her chest, shivering in the cold, but doesn't say anything, and doesn't move back to let me in.
But, she also doesn't shut the door in my face, so I guess that's something.
"I failed the assessment, and have been put on an indefinite leave of absence until I'm actually recovered. Not when I think I'm recovered, but when I actually am." Her head tilts at that. "If you're willing, if you can forgive me, I'd like to train with you again. You might not be a miracle worker, but you're a Goddamn angel, and I wouldn't even be close to recovering without your help."
She stares at me for a moment longer, until I start to get nervous, worried that she is going to slam the door in my face and I'll be on my ass.
Then, she smiles, slyly. "The sergeant called me," she says. "He told me you requested me personally."<
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I frown, and rub the back of my neck sheepishly. "You couldn't have started with that?" I gripe.
"I told you, I like making big strong men like you uncomfortable," she laughs, her eyes sparking with mirth. "Cry and curse my name and all that."
I hadn't realized how much I missed her laughter until I heard it.
I grimace. "I guess I deserve that."
"Mmhmm. Anything else you want to get off your chest before I decide to grant your request?" she asks, lifting her chin. She's still smiling, so I'm pretty sure she's still messing with me.
"Just that I've missed you like crazy," I confess. She blinks, her eyes widening a little. "I know my leg is messed up, but that pain was nothing compared to how I felt when I upset you. It's just . . ." I sigh. "I don't want to mess up whatever we had. Whatever we could have."
Her eyes shine, brightly, but they're not tears of sorrow this time. She takes in a shaky breath, fingers flexing on the insides of her opposite elbows. "I feel the same," she admits. "I really . . . I like having a routine. And part of my routine, for so long, was seeing you. I felt kind of lost when I didn't have that anymore." She laughs shakily, rubbing the side of her throat nervously.
I smile. "If I promise not to act like a total macho ass again, can we, I don't know, try the whole friendship thing again? Or even more than that? Now that I'm on leave it doesn't matter if we're together."
She arches a brow. "You won't be on leave forever," she says.
"No, but I'm prepared to deal with that when it comes." Feeling brave, I step forward and take her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. "This is a journey, and I'm not going to get ahead of myself this time, or push it too hard. I just know that I don't want to go another day without seeing you."
She smiles widely. "I feel the same way, Dwane," she murmurs, cheeks flushing a light pink. She bites her lower lip, and tilts her head. "Would you like to come in?”
"I'd love to," I reply, relieved when she steps back and lets me inside. She closes the door and turns to face me, and bites her lower lip again. There's no mistaking the look in her eyes. It's the same way I've been looking at her for weeks.
Breath catching and heart in my throat, I take a step closer to her until she has to tilt her head up to look at me.
Chapter 16 – SADIE
Oh God, it's happening. It's finally happening. The door is behind me, and he's so close and so warm, staring at me like he wants nothing more than to kiss me. I want to let him.
I clear my throat, heart beginning to race. "Are you hungry?" I offer. "I can make breakfast, or—"
My breath catches as he steps close to me. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and he's so large and comfortable in my home.
I clear my throat, and put a hand on his strong arm. He's big enough to pick me up with ease, to pin me down. I lean in helplessly, and he exhales heavily. Like a charging animal, turns his head, capturing my mouth.
A noise escapes me, breathy and quiet, then a louder moan when he gently takes me by the back of my neck and presses me against the door. I gasp, hand tightening on his arm as he steps forward and pins me to the door. His lips are soft, with just an edge of teeth teasing my lower lip before he tightens his hand in my hair and deepens the kiss.
A moan catches in the base of my throat, my heart fluttering as his other hand flattens on my hip. His thumb drags along the seam of my t-shirt, fingers spread wide and curling. I tremble, all the way down my spine, and pull him closer helplessly, gasping when he breaks the kiss and rests our foreheads together.
No one has kissed me like that in my life. I make a weak, desperate noise, head tilted up to seek another. He smiles, and obeys the silent plea, his fingers gentle on the nape of my neck. His other hand subtly guides my hips against him, my clothes wrinkling beneath his grip and between my legs.
I gasp when I feel the evidence that he is just as affected, pressure between my legs that makes me want to grab harder. So, I do—Dwane doesn't seem like he's in the mood to deny what we both want.
He breaks the second kiss again with a low, throaty rumble and kisses below my ear, down my flushed neck as I cling to his shoulder and close my eyes. I pant against the collar of his unform shirt as he slowly worms his fingers under the hem of my shirt, hiking it up and gripping it in a tight fist. His fingers skate below the hem of my shirt, assured but slow, giving me a chance to push him away.
I don't, of course. Why would I want to?
"Oh, God," I whisper, clenching my eyes tightly shut as he rubs two fingers over where I've started to soak through my underwear, and the friction sending little sparks of sensation up my spine. I gasp as he pushes the fabric to one side, giving him open access to where I'm slick and sensitive.
He makes another low sound, like a predator that's set his sights on his next meal. He breathes in, mouth at my temple, and groans quietly into my ear, making me shiver again.
My heart is racing, hands clutching helplessly. I usually like to take the lead in these kinds of things, but Dwane is so big and strong. It feels so good where he's touching me.
He lowers his head and kisses me, swallowing the low moan I make as he rubs his fingers between slick flesh, finds the swollen and eager nub of my clit and brushes lightly over it, testing my sensitivity, my reactions. I suck in a breath and spread my legs wider, nails digging into his shoulders.
He smiles against my mouth, his lashes low and his eyes so dark they're black. "Feel good?" he purrs, and I gasp, eyes wide, nodding. His smile is sharp, knowing, that confidence returning full throttle. He steps up close to make me tilt my head up, foreheads touching, as he keeps rubbing slow, teasing circles around my clit, his fingers petting over my entrance. As if he needs any help—I'm so wet I feel like it's dripping down my thighs. "Spread your feet a little wider for me."
I obey, moaning weakly when he smiles at me, warm and fond. He kisses me and it feels like a reward. It feels even better when, so slowly it's like the first light of dawn, he pushes a finger inside me, curling it as his thumb rubs over my clit. The shiver that runs down my spine is so strong I sag against him, using him to remain upright.
"Oh," I whisper, breathing hard as he kisses me passionately, his tongue curling like his finger does. The thought of his lips on me, how he might fall to his knees and eat me out just like this, makes my muscles clench around his finger, hips circle shamelessly against his hand.
He breathes me in again, eyes black and lips slick from my mouth. He curls his finger and rubs a sensitive place that makes me feel full and empty all at once, desperate for more. The saddle of his thumb and flat of his palm pushes my flesh apart so he can press deeper, thumb moving faster as I stare at him. I'm trapped, pinned, and would rather be nowhere else.
I can't look away. His eyes are on my face, cataloging every reaction, every flutter of lashes, of the way my breath hitches when he rubs tight circles over the very tip of my clit. The pressure is so light and teasing, making me ache. I moan, tipping my head back when he so gently works a second finger in, sliding deeper and putting more pressure where I feel so swollen and sensitive.
"Look at me," he whispers, his other hand in my hair, tugging gently. I do, now so unsteady he’s essentially holding me up with his fingers inside me, my knees refusing to lock, ankles weak, thighs shaking. Ironically, I can't help but think that now it's my legs promising to give out.
He smiles, and kisses me deeply, hand moving from my side, letting the shirt fall, to the side of my neck, thumb under my jaw like he's measuring my pulse, then down to tease the curve of my neck, pushing the collar of my shirt down to give him room to kiss and nip the flushed, sensitive skin. He's so close, it feels like every inch of our bodies is touching. I can feel how hard he is, seeking subtle friction against my thigh. "You're so beautiful like this, Sadie. I'm a damn fool for not doing this from the start."
I bite my lower lip, face pressed on his shoulder, stomach tensing. When he adds pressure with his thumb, I sag against him, clutching de
sperately at his shoulders as he works me closer and closer to orgasm. It seems he's done with teasing, as the pressure doesn't relent, neither does the rhythm of his fingers. I can hear how wet I am, feel his knuckles grow slick between my thighs.
"Please," I gasp, fingers curling in the back of his jacket. "Please, Dwane—"
"God, yes, Sadie," he whispers, pushing me harder against the door. "You close? You're so gorgeous, so sexy." I clench my eyes tightly shut, breathing in shakily, my toes curling against the floor.
I'm so close, I know I'm not going to be able to hold back. He straightens his fingers inside me and starts to move them, mimicking slow, powerful thrusts, and I think about what it would feel to have him inside me. "You're so wet, baby. You feel so good. I wanna make you feel good."
Ah. He drawls Louisianan when he's turned on, too. That's going to be a lot of fun for me.
I bite his shoulder and whimper as I start to lose it, shuddering and gasping, my orgasm hitting me so hard it brings tears to my eyes. I haven't let myself do this since we started working together, not trusting my traitorous thoughts, and it's a powerful release. His fingers keep moving, carefully and perfectly pulling every clench and wave as I finish, hips rocking helplessly down against his hand.
He moans as well, his nails catching just for a moment on my neck before he kisses my pulse. "Beautiful," he whispers, his fingers going still, thumb having mercy on my sensitive clit, merely resting now, letting me move as I please. It takes a while before I can figure out how to make my knees lock.
He pulls his fingers out a moment later as though reluctant to remove them, and the sheer amount of release on them makes me blush deeply. He pulls my underwear back into place and kisses me again, and gives me a small, satisfied smile, his eyes still black, still ravenous.
My gaze drops to his unsatisfied arousal, and I bite my lower lip again, breathing hard. I take his hand, our fingers lace. "Upstairs," I demand. "Time for me to return the favor."