Halden guided them to a small room where there was the usual automated wash/dry system, a sink, and a small shower stall in one of the corners. He handed over a stack of towels and what seemed to be a change of clothes for both of them.
“Dinner is a bit over half an hour away.”
Cam thanked him as Halden left again and then turned to set the clean garments on a nearby square bench. As he opened his pack and pulled out a small shaving kit, she helped herself to a towel and what she assumed were some of Merrie’s clothes.
Bren hadn’t given it a second thought when she’d followed Cam into the laundry. On the ship, most change rooms were unisex. She’d long gotten used to changing in front of both men and other women.
But now that she stood here, everything that had happened between them in the last week—the good and the bad—loaded her with tension and an awareness of him that hadn’t been there a few short days ago.
“You take first shower,” Cam said distractedly as he opened his shaving kit. He certainly didn’t seem to be having any issues.
She had half a thought about telling him she’d wait until later, but that would clue him into the fact she was feeling uncomfortable. No, that wasn’t the right word. More like on edge.
If it’d been Alpha or Seb, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
Cam stripped out of his shirt, dropping it to the floor, then stepping closer to the small mirror on the wall. Her gaze dropped to focus on the slight ripple of muscle as he shifted, leaving her fists clenching in the material she held. She’d never experienced such a physical ache of longing to touch another person. Maybe he would welcome it, but the timing was all wrong. And it wouldn’t be fair on either of them for her to put him in the position where they’d be distracted from their duty.
Quickly turning away, she closed herself in the frosted-glass shower stall, forcing a calming breath on herself, since her heart was pounding like she’d run a mile. No longer able to see him, she called herself ten kinds of idiot for her moment of weakness.
She chucked her clothes over the top of the shower stall one at a time. She didn’t linger under the spray from the showerhead, efficiently cleaning the ash and dirt from every inch of her body and then washing her hair. She’d barely shut the water off when Cam tapped on the screen.
She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out, brushing by Cam as he went in. Talk about hasty. Not that she could blame him. That shower had been just what she needed, making her feel a little more like herself.
Glancing over her shoulder as he pulled the screen over, she caught him casting a look up and down her body. When his eyes met hers again, there was no denying the spark of heat. But he simply quirked his lips in an intimate smile and then shut himself in.
It left her heart skipping as she turned her attention to the pile of clean clothes.
Cam had a quick shower and stepped out of the shower stall with a towel wrapped around his hips. Her gaze caught on the muscles of his chest, the way a few stray droplets of water clung to his skin. She was fighting a losing battle.
He glanced sideways at her as he went over to where he’d left the change of clothes. Could he tell that his state of near undress was derailing every sensible thought she tried to cling to? Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t steady herself.
It’d be so easy to give in to the lure of his strength. Ignore the sorrow digging into her soul by distracting herself with the attraction they’d both started feeling. Unfortunately, she’d never been one to take the easy way out.
“I’m going to head back inside,” she said, not giving him a chance to answer. Outside, she paused on the porch, taking a long breath of air, telling herself she had to get a grip.
Yes, she was feeling a lot of things—too many things. But Cam wasn’t the answer. The lines between them were already blurred enough. Anything else would only bring her more turmoil.
Just a few more days. That was all she needed to focus on. A few more days to get back across enemy lines and back up to the Knox where she belonged, then things could get back to normal—
No. There would be no getting back to normal.
Seb was gone, and it was going to leave a huge hole in the squad and her life.
She didn’t want to deal with the grief now.
However, her emotions had other ideas. Because this wasn’t just any soldier or pilot from her squad. This was Seb. She’d known him for ten years. And even though she’d always held the deepest parts of herself tightly under wraps where no one else could touch, out of everyone in her life, she’d let Seb come closest.
She clenched her fists, short nails digging into her palms as her throat tightened, while a burn started in her eyes, the tears ready to flood out whether she wanted them to or not. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to breathe through the ache in her chest, attempting to use logic to battle the emotion back down. Crying didn’t change anything.
“Bren?”
The sound of Cam’s voice behind her jolted her entire system. She’d been concentrating so hard on not letting the grief get the better of her that she hadn’t heard him come out of the laundry.
And maybe if she’d had just one minute more, maybe if he hadn’t said anything and given her that little extra time to really stomp down the sharp anguish, she would have been fine. She would have had herself locked down and handled. They could have gone inside, eaten dinner, slept, and then started their journey tomorrow. All with her keeping the volatile emotions in check.
Instead, her name in the low rumble of his voice, the hand that landed on her shoulder, ended up being the release on the pressure valve the sorrow had been looking for.
The totality of Seb’s death clamped around her like plunging into zero atmosphere, stealing all her air, making it impossible to breathe. She was crumbling. Coming apart. For the first time in her life, she wanted to lean on someone else. She wanted to turn and bury her face in his chest and let him hold her. In the moment, it might make her feel better, but after, it would only complicate something that should be simple—he was her commanding officer for the duration of this mission and that’s all he could be.
Pulling from his grasp, she walked off the porch, heading across the small yard toward the woods that backed onto the north side of the village. At the low stone fence, she scrambled over, the tears and darkness making it hard to see anything.
The damp scent of forest laced the next slicing breath she took. Above the trees, stars sparkled in the crisp blackness of the night. The sorrow was bringing up too many memories of the dark things she’d felt in the long, unforgiving days following Jordie’s death. She’d been existing, sustaining herself on duty and responsibility, and what had that really brought her? More death and loss.
“Bren.”
Dammit.
Cam had followed her. She dropped her face into her hands, not wanting him to see her tears.
“I just need a few minutes alone.” There was no disguising the rawness of her voice.
“You don’t have to be. Alone, I mean.”
Her heart gave a few hard pounds. Exactly what was he offering? And was she willing to risk it when she was feeling the cost of caring so deeply for someone?
“Jesus, Bren, just let someone else share the burden for once.”
He pulled her against him, even though she’d had no intention of letting him so close. And while she’d been all ready to defend the solitary fortress she’d built around herself, once Cam’s arms closed around her, the fight was unceremoniously lost.
She leaned into him, letting him take her weight, letting the tears inundate her, until there was nothing else but her grief pouring out.
Nothing but the grief and Cam standing firm against it.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what she was apologizing for, but when she finally remembered how to speak, it seemed like the right thing to say.
“I should be the one saying sorry. If I’d let you and Seb scout the crashed jet like
you’d wanted, he’d still be alive.”
The words shocked her, stopping the tears and cutting off the sorrow. “But then, you would have been killed in that village.”
“I should have been with my men.” A statement of fact, but she caught the emotion beneath the surface. “Alive or dead, I should have been with my men.”
Fear swamped her—a blind panic he’d end up dead in the same way Jordie had. She shifted her hold on him to grip his shoulders, afraid she’d already lost him.
“No matter what we do now, we can’t change what’s already happened.”
“I know that better than anyone.” There was a dark undertone to his words, one she didn’t want to pull him down.
“Then remember what we’re fighting for and don’t look back.”
“What we’re fighting for?” he repeated, ending with a scoff. “Do any of us really know? ’Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
She’d wondered that herself. And maybe, at the end of the day—the days where tragedy struck and good people were lost—nothing more than basic survival mattered. But survival wasn’t living. People deserved more. She deserved more.
Suddenly, the fear of spending her life utterly alone was deeper and vaster than her anxiety over letting anyone close to her.
“We’re fighting for each other.” The words weren’t much above a whisper. “Maybe that’s not noble or sophisticated, but it’s the truth.”
He leaned in, and for a wild, heart-pounding moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Except, he simply rested his forehead against hers, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. He murmured, “And what happens when we get tired of fighting?”
“Then someone else will carry us.”
He smiled, but there was a cynical edge to it. “Maybe you should have been the one leading this mission.”
“Cameron, if you doubt yourself, even for a second, then they win. And I know you’re stronger than that.”
He closed his eyes, releasing a ragged breath. “Maybe a day ago, I would have agreed, but now—”
“Now you’ll be stronger, because that’s what your men would have wanted.”
He shifted back from her, only an inch or so, his gaze fervent as it locked on to hers. “I’m starting to wonder how the hell I ever lived without you.”
The words sent her heart into a freefall, but she didn’t have time to let them sink in before he caught her mouth beneath his.
He had her—entire body and mind giving over to the immediate, devastating surge of emotion. The flood was heat, relief, and excited anticipation. All of the terrible, dark things she’d been immersed in since discovering the fate of the village were washed away in the rush. Sure, they were still there, dug deep into her soul like a thorn, but she could forget it all in the storm of hunger sweeping through her.
Maybe tomorrow she’d regret every second. But she didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to do the logical thing, make the responsible choice. If Cam wasn’t going to stop this—and considering the way he was kissing her hard and desperate, that didn’t seem likely—then she sure as hell wasn’t going to put the brakes on.
Not when his touch and the solid, sure feel of him against her was a deliverance, one she’d never expected to find in another person.
But it wasn’t enough. The craving for all of him, for everything he could give, to be complete with him, cut through her like a sharp, sudden gust of hot summer wind.
Her fingers found the fastenings of his shirt, and as she started pulling them open, she remembered how just the sight of his bare chest had sent her blood thrumming. So when she pushed his shirt aside and smoothed her hands over the muscles of his pecs and shoulders, the satisfaction left her moaning.
Cam flicked off the shirt, then anchored an arm around her waist, and lifted her enough to lower them both to the ground, into the soft grass next to the stone fence.
He didn’t stop kissing her as he came down on top of her, or maybe she didn’t let him. Either way, kissing him had become as vital as breathing, as though she wouldn’t survive without it.
Threading her fingers into his short hair, she reveled in the firm weight of him pressing into her. His hand smoothed down her side, reaching the bottom of her shirt and then dipping under, his warm fingers closing onto her hip. She shivered, sensation from that simple touch sparking through her blood.
She shifted against him, on edge, agitation building, one that she was happy to get lost in.
Cam pushed her shirt up, and she opened the top two fasteners so she could yank it over her head instead of wasting the time it would have taken to undo it. She’d hardly freed her arms when he pulled open her pants and in a few ebbing breaths, all of her clothes were gone, leaving her bared to him and the silver-blue moonlight she swore she could feel caressing her skin.
He broke the kiss, but it was only so he could run a heated glance over her body. His gaze tracked his hand as it skimmed downward. She captured his wrist, urging him on, showing him where she needed his touch the most.
As his palm brushed teasingly over her core, it left her gasping. But when he sank his fingers into her, he was the one groaning.
Air left her lungs as his mouth found her nipple and he started stroking her. There was nothing but heat inundating her body like a solar flare. She clamped both hands on his shoulders, anchoring herself to him as her body turned molten—no longer solid form, just flowing, languid mercury.
She bit her lip, ecstasy dragging her into abeyant bliss. Though she knew it was coming, the sudden, wrenching climax still took her by surprise. She arched into him, fighting not to cry out lest anyone realize what they were doing.
Cam withdrew his fingers from her, and she could have whimpered for the loss of sensation. But even as she drew in a half breath to beg him for more, he pushed her legs wider, the blunt, delicious sensation of his erection pressing into her.
He didn’t plunge into her, even though she would have welcomed it. No, instead, he gradually pushed forward, filling her inch by inevitable inch. Making them both aware of exactly what was happening, of the finality, of the certainty that they were going somewhere they couldn’t come back from.
But she wanted it, knew down to her very soul that whatever happened after tonight, she’d made the right choice. Had come to a place she belonged. Somewhere she was always meant to be, but hadn’t realized.
How could he have been right in front of her all these years, and she’d never seen him for who he really was? For what he could be to her?
All of those thoughts fizzled and dissolved as he finally sank fully into her.
God, it was so perfectly, inexplicably right.
And she wanted to make sure he knew it, felt it as well. With a little urging and a quick roll, she put herself on top of him, the angle of his penetration around the level of mind melting. He groaned, deep and low as she moved, grinding herself against him, starting up a rhythm that would see them both satisfied.
Cam clamped his hands on her ass, steadying her, leaving her free to let her body take over, riding him without reservation to find fast but deep satisfaction.
This time when that final cataclysmic moment took her, Cam was right there along with her. She could feel it in the tension of his body beneath her, in the way he bucked against her. At the last second, he clamped a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her down and catching her mouth with his, muffling the cries she had no hope of stopping.
Aftershocks shuddered through her as he loosened his grip, the kiss turning gentle before he dropped his head back and blew out a hard breath.
Sinking down to rest on his chest wasn’t a choice so much as her body had about as much substance as jelly.
Though the shades of tragedy were already falling down around her, beneath that, at the depths of her foundations, there was a contentment, a feeling of rightness.
She would be returning from this mission with a lot of regrets.
But this thing between her and Cam wouldn’t
be one of them.
Chapter Eighteen
There were a few things in life Cam had once thought he’d never, ever do. Own a pet. Get stationed on a ship. Have sex with a fellow soldier on a clandestine mission.
Except, what’d just happened between Bren and him hadn’t simply been an empty physical connection to blow off steam. Not that he had a way of explaining what had just happened between them. All he knew was something had taken hold of him, surging from deep inside, from a place he didn’t go to very often, because it opened up vulnerabilities. And in war, as a leader of men, there was no room for weakness.
Strangely enough, even though he’d been exposed in a way that happened very rarely—and not the first time in front of Bren—he hadn’t felt inferior. Instead, he’d been solid, sure. More certain about her than anything else in years. Probably since that disaster of a mission with Jordie.
Though he made decisions daily that concerned not only himself but also the lives of others, he’d never realized how there’d been this undercurrent of doubt coloring every move he made. Ironic that Jordie’s sister had been the one to make him see it, like coming full circle.
Neither of them said much to each other as they dressed in the silvery light from two of Ilari’s moons. But the silence wasn’t awkward.
Instead, it was easy. Peaceful, almost. Who would have ever thought he’d find such tranquility deep behind the battle lines on this war-torn planet?
“Hungry?” Bren asked as they climbed over the low stone fence, back into Halden’s yard.
He hadn’t thought about his stomach once all day. Barely eaten anything, too consumed with the task they’d faced in that destroyed village. But now that she’d asked him, his stomach made its uncomfortable emptiness known.
“Yeah, I am.”
She sent him a half smile, which definitely made some of the dark places within him light up. How could he be happy on one of the worst days he’d ever experienced as a commander? Maybe happy wasn’t the right word. The remorse and sadness at the fate of his men and Seb had lodged deep within him, but right next to that was the relief and contentment that he’d found something, someone to hold on to. Though he’d never thought he needed anyone, having Bren in that intimate way—both physically and emotionally—made it all more bearable.
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