Falling Into Right

by Sharon Kay

  Kirkuk came into view, brown-and-beige buildings outlined against the blue sky. Breaking up the endless sand were small, scrubby bushes and tall date palms stretching high above. The sun beat down like a furnace.

  In the dream, he was moving forward but time seemed to slow. Iraq was hotter than any place he’d ever been. Sweat dripped inside his helmet. Sand flew up and bit at his cheeks. The Jeep bumped. Far off across the sand, a mirage shimmered.

  Boom! The loudest roar Shane had ever heard split his ears, immediately rendering them useless. All he heard was a faint ringing. He was up, airborne, soaring above the Jeep. How had he gotten up into the air? Someone’s semi-automatic sailed past him. His arms and legs churned in empty space. His buddy Angelo’s helmet spun by next, flipping end over end like a giant had flicked it with his index finger.

  Where were the rest of his men? His stomach rolled against the sudden, unnatural weightlessness. Then he was falling. Too fast. Reaching for anything, he plummeted through the hot air. The sand rushed up to meet him. Moving too fast—Slam!

  “No!” Shane bolted upright in bed. Short, gasped breaths sawed in and out of his lungs. Falling… he shook his head. No. Not falling.

  He was in his own bed. In his own house.

  In Sundown, Illinois, in the beautiful United States of America.

  “Fuck,” he muttered and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  His heart hammered in his chest. He hung his head and leaned his elbows on his knees, trying to stop the nightmare sensations that still churned through him. The images had stopped, but turning off the feelings was less easy to control.

  He fought for logic. Telling himself it was just a dream. He was home, he was safe.

  But damn it, some of his teammates were gone. Right there. In a heartbeat. A few feet from him, and he had been powerless to do anything.

  He heaved out a huge breath. It wasn’t fucking right. This whole—

  “Shane?” A soft voice broke through the darkness from behind him. “Are you okay?”

  Becca. Christ. She’d been here not even two weeks, and she got to witness a rare meltdown. He tried for another breath and muttered, “Yeah.”

  She scooted to the edge of the bed to sit next to him and set a hand lightly on his bare shoulder. “Dream?”

  “Yeah.” His breath was more steady, but his muscles felt like he’d run ten miles. “Sorry I woke you.”

  “Don’t be.” She ran her hand down his back and up again. “Want to talk about it?”

  No. Yes. His mind jumbled with words and images, none of it anything he wanted to deal with.

  “It’s okay if you don’t,” she went on. Her hand still skimmed a path along his back, moving from shoulders to waist and back up, never in the same area twice.

  Darkness surrounded them. No moon. No night lights. Just her soft voice, her soft warmth next to him. Patient. Accepting. Familiar. Because she knew what it felt like. Didn’t matter that she’d never been in the sandbox, and fucking hell, he was glad for that.

  He took a deep breath. “I haven’t had this dream in a year. It was about the blast.”

  “Oh, Shane.”

  “I relive it. But I don’t know what’s coming. Every time, it’s like the first time we’re on that road. Just driving along. No idea what’s about to happen.”

  “Do you feel any pain?”

  “No.” He ran a hand over his hair. “Just this confusion. And the feeling of flying through the air when I get thrown from the Jeep. Just not knowing, not understanding why I’m airborne. Then I hit the ground. That’s when I wake up.”

  “It’s the same every time?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around him as best she could. She kissed his shoulder. Soft hair brushed his skin, carrying the fruity fragrance of her shampoo and the sexy, sleepy trace of laundry. The way she smelled, tangled up in his sheets. The scent of her that clung to the bedding after she got up to take a shower.

  He’d never woken from a nightmare with anyone at his side, except for the early weeks when he’d been in the hospital. But this? He liked her here now, despite seeing this part of him. It was something he didn’t talk about and no one saw. But with Becca, it seemed natural to let her reach out and offer comfort.

  He straightened and turned to face her. She peeked up from her spot, nestled with her cheek to his shoulder. Tousled dark hair framed her face, which radiated compassion and sweetness.

  “Do you want anything? Tea? Or something stronger?” she asked.

  He shook his head and tucked her wayward hair behind her ear. Sliding his finger along her jaw, he stared. He didn’t even try to hide it. She was unequivocally beautiful, whether she was dressed up or stark naked in his bed. She was one of the kindest, most grounded people he knew, despite an awful year. He was certain that her sensible nature was what had kept her sane. Not everyone could have come through it as well as she had, though he knew she would protest that she’d messed up beyond repair.

  Smart, compassionate, ready for fun, but happy to chill at home.

  Hell. She was the kind of girl a man should hold onto forever.

  She sat up straight, dragging her hands from where she held onto his waist, to lightly trace up and down his forearm. The sheet she’d pulled around her torso dropped to her waist. He saw it in his peripheral vision, knew her perfect, bare breasts were right there, but he kept his eyes on hers. Something tugged deep in his soul. Something he would remember about this moment.

  Forever whispered like a desert wind through his mind.

  He blinked, realizing the images from his dream had dissolved. His pounding heart and tired muscles had eased, replaced by an unfamiliar restfulness.

  When had he ever felt this level of calm after a nightmare?

  Never. Not in seven years.

  “Seven years,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “What day is it?”

  “Um, October 18.”

  He dropped his hand from her soft cheek and closed his eyes. “It’s the anniversary of the blast.”

  “Oh, Shane.” She held his hand between both of hers. “I’m sorry.”

  He would never forget that date, but he sure as hell didn’t want to think about it. That date was the reason he didn’t own a calendar.

  “Do you usually do something to remember?”

  He blew out a breath. “No. Only the first year. After that…” He felt like shit for not trying to do something more to honor them, though their own families probably did. Should he have? He wanted to remember his buddies’ laughter and jokes and their absolute focus on the job. The way they all operated together like a machine. Not the sadness.

  But the good and bad were intertwined, and he had no clue how to separate them.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I know you remember them. All that matters is that you keep them alive in your heart. You don’t need to do something big or special unless you want to.” She smiled sadly. “You could drink a beer for each one and they’d probably raise a glass right back at you, from wherever they are in heaven.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  He frowned and his gaze snapped to her face. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. “Hey, what’s this?”

  She swiped at it. “Thinking about heaven. I guess it’s comforting to think of our loved ones there, but we still miss them.”

  “It’s worse when it’s new.”

  “You’re in year seven, and it still affects you.” She traced a line across his abs. “Sometimes I think nothing will help.”

  He tilted her chin up. Big, sad eyes stared back at him. Hell, he’d had that bleak feeling. The point where his heart hurt for his team, and he felt like he was facing a sheer vertical climb with no help. He dealt with it by working, running with Denver, shooting, hanging out
on Redemption Hill. And he pushed the negative thoughts to the back of his mind.

  But not until Becca had he realized that meeting someone who’d walked his path could make a difference. “I see that look,” he murmured.

  “What look?”

  “The one that says you’re at the bottom of a twenty-foot pit with no ladder.”

  “Maybe I am,” she whispered. “How did you get out?”

  “Don’t know if I have,” he said. “But meeting you bumped me up higher than I was before.”

  Her brows knit. “How can I help you when I can’t even help myself?”

  “Just being you is all you need to do.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I’m not good with words. But I’ve never met anyone who’s been through anything close to what I have—losing people too soon, and not just one—except for the rest of my team. And, uh, it’s not like we hang out and talk about our feelings or anything.”

  She gave a half laugh. “Yeah, I guess not.” Light fingertips grazed his knuckles. “I still don’t know how I’m helping, but as long as you think I am, I wanna keep on with it.”

  “I like that plan.”

  Finally, a happy glint appeared in her eyes. “I like you.”

  He grinned. “Seein’ as you’re buck naked in my bed, you better.”

  “You’re bad.” She smacked his chest and kept her hand there, pushing him back. “Lie down.”

  He guessed she wanted to cuddle and that was fine with him. Stretching out on his side of the bed, he held out his arms. “Come here.”

  But instead, she leaned across his chest and pressed a warm kiss to his pec. Not a quick press of her lips to his skin. But one that lingered, yanking his mind to a place he hadn’t expected to go tonight. Not that he minded. “Becca?”

  She raised her magnetic eyes, but not her warm, naughty mouth. Her kiss, slow and languid, ignited every inch that she touched. “Mmm?”

  A hundred questions popped rapid fire into his head. Was she okay? Did she need to talk or to just be held or something? He’d never been good at comfort. But each thought was derailed by the fire in his veins. He trusted she’d tell him what she wanted.

  And right now, she didn’t need to say a word.

  “Love your mouth, baby.” He slid a hand down to her hair.

  “I love the way you taste.” She moved across his chest, trailing kisses in her wake.

  His dick, which had taken a mental break during the last half hour, now roared to life at the contact of her bare skin along his. The signals she was broadcasting were as clear as that first night he’d kissed her. No questions. She was letting him know what she wanted, and he loved her boldness. Desire and determination crossed her face. It wasn’t what he expected, but she wasn’t what he expected.

  She moved lower, licking a cock-hardening trail across his abs. Her hair tumbled and feathered over his skin. Her hand slid down to his thigh, skipping his shaft, which now stood up like a proud soldier eager for whatever she’d do.

  She reached his hips and gave his skin one more slow, savoring kiss. Then she leaned across to his other side, hair brushing his skin, igniting a deep need to grab those locks and pull her to his mouth.

  But he waited and let her explore. Every touch was relief and torture at the same time. Every little nibble of her teeth made him want to flip her over and drive in deep, and at the same time lay back and stay at her mercy. He let out a low curse. She was killing him, and she hadn’t even gotten to his cock yet.

  She shifted to settle between his legs. For a second, she just held his gaze as she knelt, more gorgeous than anything he’d ever seen. She licked her lips and pushed her hair to one shoulder, then dragged her hand slowly down her body. Tantalizingly, she drew her fingers down one breast, down past her hip, and slid up his leg. So damn tempting. With a grin, she wrapped her slender fingers around his cock. He hissed out a breath. She stroked him from root to tip, then settled back and looked at him like he was her favorite dessert.

  Leaning down, she slowly licked him in the same path her hand had just taken. He groaned at the heat of her mouth. Her slick little tongue traveled up and down, making him even harder. “Fuck, woman.”

  She looked like a goddess, naked and so naughty and sweet at the same time. Hands and mouth on his cock, her breath skated over his groin as she lowered her head. Keeping her eyes on him, she swirled her tongue around his plump head.

  His vision hazed, and he gave up trying to see, just dropped his head back. He reached for her with both hands, sliding them into her hair. “Your mouth feels incredible, baby.”

  She sucked the tip of his cock between her lips and glanced up at him. Just the bit of him disappearing into her mouth was so fucking hot. His cock went rock hard as he imagined what else she would do.

  When she flicked her tongue at the sensitive underside, he knew he didn’t have a prayer. He was at her mercy. She could get him to do anything right now. She cupped his balls and massaged them. He couldn’t resist lifting his hips, anything to get deeper into her mouth.

  Then she swirled along the defined ridge, tracing it with her tongue. Teasing, toying, playing, making him grit his teeth.

  “Becca, damn. Feels so goddamn good.”

  “I can’t wait to take all of you,” she pulled back and whispered. Then she took him deep into her mouth.

  “Fuck.” Her mouth was warm and wet and all rational thought fled his mind. Her sexy tongue flattened against the underside of his dick. She moved up and slid back down, getting more of him this time. His hips flexed again, desperate to prolong every sensation.

  She looked up at him again. His world may have imploded right there. Because she was naked with her mouth full of his cock, big eyes focused on him. And all of it after he’d had a fucking meltdown.

  She was here, and she fucking wanted him.

  He could die a happy man.

  Purring low in her throat, she created a vibration that amped up the mind-numbing pleasure she was inducing. His legs shifted, unable to be still. Her hair brushed his legs and balls as she moved up and down. She sucked alternately hard and soft, stroking with her hand when she couldn’t take his whole length. His cock throbbed as his release built.

  “Becca,” he gritted. “Stop.” He couldn’t believe he was saying that word, but he needed all of her. “I want that tight pussy.”

  She pulled back slowly, easing his cock out of her mouth like she wanted to savor it. It bobbed between them. “Where do you want me?”

  “Ride my cock.”

  She bit her lip and shifted forward to reach for the box of condoms on his nightstand. They didn’t bother to put them in a drawer anymore. With practiced ease, she ripped one open and rolled it on him. Then, with half-lidded eyes, she lowered herself onto his aching length.

  He swore again, because her sheath was hotter and tighter than her mouth. Nothing had ever felt this good. She let out a sigh and settled him in to the hilt. She leaned forward, bracing her arms beside his biceps. He cupped her ripe breasts and a soft moan escaped her.

  “Let’s see how hard your nipples can get for me,” he whispered, caressing her full curves.

  “Mmm, Shane.” She ground her hips against his. “Touch me.”

  He took the tight tips of her breasts between his fingers and rolled gently. A shudder rolled through her. He chanced a soft pinch, and she let out a needy moan.

  She rocked her hips against him, every little movement from her stroking him higher. Every pump into her heat pulled him closer to release. But he was determined to bring her with him. He leaned up to take one nipple into his mouth while he tugged the other between his fingers.

  With a gasp, she leaned down more, pushing him to his back. This way, her sweet curves were at his mouth, and he took advantage, sucking one tit and then the other. He brought a hand down to smack her perfect ass.

  H
er hair cascaded around both of them as her rhythm increased. He thrust faster and harder into her pussy.

  “Shane!” she gasped. Her hips slammed his and her entire body quivered.

  He released her nipple with a pop. “That’s it, baby.” He grabbed her hips as his release surged past the point of stopping.

  Her mouth formed a perfect O as he let out a roar. He held her in place as he slammed into her, pushed by his rampant lust and something else.

  This woman. “Fuck, Becca.”

  Breath sawed out of his lungs as his orgasm ebbed. Above him, she shoved her hair aside as she fought for her own breath.

  Nothing in his world had ever been this right.

  This woman. Forever.

  Becca gulped air and her thighs trembled around Shane’s powerful body. In the dark room, she could see just enough of him, and what she couldn’t see, she could feel. His cock pulsed inside her. Her fingers caressed hard, defined abs, a sexy washboard she could count to eight on. And she had, with her mouth. Would she ever get enough of him?

  “Ready?” he murmured.

  “Yeah.” She raised up to her knees, letting him slide free, and lay down next to him.

  He leaned over to kiss her. “Be right back.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She sighed as he went to the bathroom to dump the condom.

  He was back in a flash and tucked her close to his side. “You were so fucking incredible.”

  “So were you.”

  “Damn, woman. Just thinking about what you were doing is making me hard again.”

  She gave a half laugh and snuggled into his shoulder. Her mind churned with emotion too strong to put into words. She had jolted awake as soon as he’d shouted in his dream, and her first thought had been to take care of him, to do whatever she could to bring him back from that pinnacle of dread. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been in an explosion. She knew the feeling of hearing news you never wanted to hear, news that you didn’t have a prayer of changing, but that changed you forever.