by Lizzy Ford
He wrenches awake and sits. My hand drops, and I sit with him the best I can, one of my legs caught between his.
“You’re safe, Sawyer,” I say again. I reach for him instinctively, wanting to help him the way I did Petr.
He pulls away.
I do it again, though, accustomed to this reaction from Petr. He used to tell me he didn’t always know where he was when he woke up and me speaking to him helped him realize he wasn’t in the middle of the battle anymore. Gently, I clasp my hands loosely around Sawyer’s upper body the best I can at the awkward angle and lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder while tugging him towards me. I’m still murmuring, waiting for him to register where he is once more.
There’s a hesitation before his arms wrap around me, and he buries his face into the nape of my neck. He’s stronger than Petr was those first few weeks, his muscular arms pinning me against him. I relax into him, understanding what he needs right now. My voice helps, but it’s my body that grounds him in reality. He’s hanging on like he’s afraid to fall again into the dream world.
His breathing is ragged, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. His body trembles in my arms. It alarms me, a stark reminder that he was in the same firefight that killed one of my brothers and injured another. I want so bad to forget, to blame the cold man who let my brothers get hurt.
Any other time, I can. Right now, it’s impossible to remain angry with him, when I’m starting to realize that he’s as broken inside as Petr was. He simply hides it better.
“You’re safe.”
He rests his cheek against mine, his breathing growing steadier and the quaking gradually receding. I hold him and wait, uncertain what is stronger within me: remembering the pain I experienced seeing Petr like this or the desire spiraling through me at the feel of our bodies pressed together.
I shouldn’t feel that way. I don’t know why I do. It’s confusing me when I need to be strong.
“I keep thinking of that night,” Sawyer says hoarsely. “The ambush. The night Mikael died. Over and over …” He grips me tighter, as if afraid that night is coming back to get him.
I suck in a breath, torn between walking out now and knowing he needs me here.
“It’s okay,” I manage. “Just try to relax.”
“Petr was point, the first into the village. I swear, the two of them had some sort of psychic connection. All our intel said it was clear, but Mikael –“
“Stop, please,” I beg him. “I can’t hear about that night!”
Captain Mathis lifts his head but doesn’t release me.
My insides are churning. I had pieced together what happened listening to Petr’s ramblings when he woke me from sleeping. I can’t bear the thought of reliving those first moments from the time period after his return. The hollow pain that’s been present since I arrived at the forest feels rawer tonight, closer to the surface. It’s not the time to reminisce.
I can’t bear the thought of holding Captain Mathis knowing what he’s done to my family, but I can’t let him go, either, not when he’s as fragile as my brother was those first few weeks.
“Relax … lie back,” I whisper. My throat is tight, and I can feel the tears on my cheeks already. “You’re safe. You can sleep.”
Captain Mathis releases me enough to slide down into the sleeping bag again. He takes me with him, and I wriggle and shift until I’m comfortable on my side. His arms tighten around me, keeping me pressed against him. My cheek rests on one of his thick biceps, and I’m far too aware of the muscular expanse of his chest to be comfortable. One of his thighs is slung over mine, ensuring our hips are together. I’m fevered from the intimate embrace.
I’m starting to think it was a mistake not to climb into the bag with him in my muddy, wet clothing.
Tremors go through him again, and I listen to his heartbeat. It’s been a while since I’ve been held by anyone, even longer since I’ve had sex. I’m self-conscious about my back, and then there’s the issue with Petr. I tend to not have very serious relationships. Most last a few weeks at most. Captain Mathis doesn’t strike me as the kind who has fleeting relationships like I do. We aren’t compatible by any stretch of the imagination.
Why the hell am I thinking about that now?
“I feel like you should know what happened,” Sawyer says. I can hear the strain in his voice that comes from fighting a dream battle.
“No,” I reply. “It’s fine.”
“Katya, I have to. I don’t want you hating me for the wrong reason. I don’t want you thinking Mikael died in vain,” he begins. “I made the decision to send them in. I was as certain as possible that there was no danger, but in the end, it’s my responsibility as their commander. Petr went in first and tripped the first IED. As soon as he went down –“
“Stop!” I say more firmly. Captain Mathis is calming. This time, it’s me who’s starting to panic.
“- stranded in the middle of the street. We were taking heavy fire. Riley went to grab him and got shot. The other SEAL on our team pulled both to safety before he was gunned down, and that’s when our scouts told us how bad it was.”
“Sawyer.” I pull my head back, eyes blurring with tears. “I can’t hear this.” I take his face with my hands. “Please.” I place a hand over his mouth to try to keep him quiet.
He lifts his head away. “We had one way out,” he continues. “One of us had to volunteer never to come home. Mikael-“
My chest seizes. I’m envisioning everything as he speaks, reliving the agony in the hospital when I was sitting two floors up from my dead brother and two doors down from a brother they didn’t expect to pull through his surgeries. Reliving the horror of being nine again and trying to reach my mother as she screamed in the fire, only to be crushed by a steel beam.
I wanted to die the day they brought Mikael back. I wanted to die the day they said Petr wasn’t going to make it. I wanted to die every time Petr wept with pain after a surgery or when he was trying to recover. I wanted so badly to trade places with him and spare him the pain.
I can’t go back to those moments, to the pain. I barely survived it, and it’s too much to experience again. My cheeks are wet with tears, my body shaking.
Sawyer is determined. The night terrors are slowly releasing him, and he wants me to relive the night I can’t forget.
I can’t do it again.
Trapped in his arms, I do the only thing I can really think of to get him to shut up. I take his face in my hands and kiss him lightly.
He stops talking. I’m not even sure he’s breathing. He’s gone rigid. Is he surprised or offended? Either way, I have his attention.
“No more.” I say against his lips and then lean away, drawing an unsteady breath. “Okay? We -“
His lips claim mine. His kiss isn’t the tap I gave him but something more primal, demanding and passionate. It’s not the kiss of a man who has no emotions. His warm lips press hard to mine, his velvety tongue sliding between my lips. He tastes slightly minty and of his own elusive flavor. Fire bursts into life at the base of my belly, tearing through me with intensity mirrored by Sawyer’s hunger.
He deepens the kiss. Not one to be outdone, I match his passion with my own, my hands sliding behind his neck to pull him more into me. It’s then I start to understand the strange tension always between us. It might be partially hatred, but there’s a great deal of lust as well.
He nudges my thighs apart, and pushes me onto my back, settling between them. My body melts beneath his. Any thought I might’ve had about who I’m about to fuck is gone, lost in yearning and pure desire.
I can’t help the small moan as I feel his thick arousal pressed to the inside of one of my thighs. I wrap my legs around his narrow hips, my heels settling on those perfect thighs of his, and the hot, aching core of my body wet with desire. The clash of our bodies together, the feeling of his hot skin pressed to mine, the most incredible, strong body resting on top of me … have I ever experienced need this hot an
d consuming?
One of his palms is moving down my side. I want his hands to touch me everywhere, all at once, to brand me and claim me in a way I have a feeling only he can. I wonder what it’ll be like to let him control my body, to surrender to him the way I can’t anyone else. Something tells me if anyone can handle a night of wild sex with me, it’s this man.
My hands skim the thick, firm muscles of his back and chest in awe and fascination.
My god, he’s so strong, so sexy, so perfect.
At the moment, I don’t give two shits about why I should hate Sawyer Mathis. Someone who kisses like this is going to be worth a lot more than a night in bed.
His hand reaches my hip and traces the length of one thigh while he keeps me pressed to the ground with his upper body.
Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss and curses. “Fuck!”
Dazed and breathless, I wait a second, not understanding. When he seems to tense, I cup his face. “What is it?” I ask.
Captain Mathis relaxes once more. He rests his head beside mine, his breath tickling the nape of my neck. Taking my wrists, he pins them loosely by my head. His breathing is fast like mine.
“I can’t do this,” he whispers at last, his lips moving against my ear.
“Can’t do what?” I tug at my arms.
He holds them in place, not moving.
“Fuck you.”
A thrill spirals through me at his blunt words. Our bodies are pressed together, complete intimacy prevented by the thin fabric of his sweatpants. His arousal presses against my tender nether lips. So close …
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he adds. “Shouldn’t have kissed you.”
My body burns for him, my blood humming. My senses are scattered to the four winds, and I breathe in his scent, letting it intoxicate me. I’m an emotional, sensual person, and the sensations of his body – the combination of soft skin and hard muscle, of his rough passion and cool control – is killing me. I need him.
I’ve never needed anyone.
There’s a small voice warning me that Captain Mathis isn’t the kind of person who does a one night stand, and I’m not looking for a relationship with the man who killed my brother. It’s rare when I feel overwhelmed by someone the way I do him. I’m a split second from begging him, and I never beg. My will power is pretty much Swiss cheese.
Maybe it’s a good thing he’s backing out. God knows I won’t. I’m a slave to my emotions, no matter what the consequences.
We lay together quietly, both so beyond turned on, it’s insane that we aren’t going through with it. Maybe that’s why he’s holding my wrists, because he knows I don’t have an ounce of restraint. The amount of passion in his kiss tells me sleeping with him will be the best night of my life. He’s too observant not to be an attentive lover, too proud not to be the best a woman’s ever had, too controlled and patient not to give me as much as I can take before he gets off.
This is killing me! I try to rein in my hormones and focus on something other than fucking Sawyer Mathis. Recalling the nightmares that got us to this point helps cool my ardor some.
“I just wanted to help you,” I whisper. “Petr had the night terrors every night for a few weeks. I was the only one to help him. I used to crawl into bed with him the way my mom did me when I had nightmares.”
He’s listening quietly, his grip on my wrists secure while his body remains atop mine. If dealing with Captain Mathis baffled me before, I’m not sure what to think now.
I want him, and I know he wants me. He’s saying no, but his body is indicating the opposite. His erection is long and thick, and it shows no signs of abating as the minutes pass. I don’t know how long I’ve been lying beneath him.
“You did help me,” he says finally. “Thank you.”
“Whatever it takes. If you need me …” I clear my throat. “I didn’t quite mean it that way, unless …” Shit. I totally meant it that way.
“I have too much respect for you and your brothers, Katya,” he replies. “Though I’m glad to see I was right. There’s a very sweet side to you.”
“It’s hard to hate you when I know you’re broken like Petr,” I say. Minutes before, he was in my arms, shaking from the power of nightmares.
His breath hitches, as if he’s surprised. I’m not sure why. He is human. He has to know he’s got issues.
“I didn’t know you were hurting, too,” I continue. “If I can help you, ask me now. I’m going to go back to hating you in the morning.” I mean it as a joke to lighten up the tension, but it’s kind of true. Now that I’ve sampled what he’s got, I feel the need to run far, far away, because a man like this isn’t the kind of person you walk away from.
“That’s probably a good idea,” he agrees with a husky chuckle that makes me shiver. “It’s easier when you’re pissed at me.”
Easier? I’m not sure what he’s saying. A few times, we’ve come close to something only to backpedal. The sense that this … thing between us is more than opportunistic lust returns. I assumed the attraction was one way, given how terse he normally is around me.
He releases one of my wrists and brushes the back of his fingers against one cheek. I’m embarrassed by my tears and wipe them away quickly.
“You’re hurting, aren’t you? I upset you?” he whispers, his tone gentle.
“I haven’t stopped since you brought Mikael back in a coffin,” I reply hoarsely.
“You are terrible at taking care of yourself, even if you are great at helping others.”
I have no comeback for the too accurate observation.
“You can help me. Let me hold you.”
“Shouldn’t I be holding you?” I ask, confused.
“I know I’ve caused you so much pain. I live with that reality daily. It will help me to bring you a little comfort, Katya.”
More tears squeeze from my eyes at his tender words, and my throat grows too tight to speak. I never thought I’d hear such a sentiment from a man like him. Or anyone, for that matter.
“Okay.” My response is barely audible.
He eases off me and nudges me to roll onto my side, my back towards him. I do so, unmoving as he wraps one arm beneath my neck and the other around my midsection. One of his legs drapes over mine, and he pulls me into his body. His erection is hard against my backside, and I shift against him.
“Stop,” he hisses. “I’m trying to be honorable.”
I relax, tension flowing out of my body. I don’t think it’s possible to sleep when I’m so turned on. My trembling stops in his embrace, and he holds me silently. Safely tucked in his arms, the hollow pain fades and is replaced by warmth. It feels a little too natural being in his arms and a whole lot scary to be lowering my guard the way I have tonight.
As good as fucking would’ve been, I start to think this is better, in a different way. With his broad chest at my back and thick arms and leg around me, my body melts in his strength and warmth in a deeper relaxation than I’ve ever experienced before. Comfortable, protected, home.
I like this way too much to be normal.
Chapter Thirteen: Sawyer
I wake up before my alarm goes off. After my … issue last night, I slept like a baby, better than I have in a year at least. I’m pretty sure it has to do with the woman whose body is part of the reason why I’m considering the snooze button. One of her thighs is between mine, half her body draped over mine with her head on my shoulder. Katya’s breath tickles the skin on my chest. She’s soft, firm and feminine, an appealing package.
God, she’s the fucking sexiest woman I’ve ever known. She doesn’t know or care to curb her passion the way I normally do. I value self-control over everything else, but Katya … fuck! To complicate matters, I now know there really is a sweet girl buried beneath the shell, one who didn’t run or freak out when I had one of my episodes. She stuck with me, talking me down.
It’s getting harder to write her off.
Instinctively, I wrap an arm around her and lay stil
l for a long moment, pensive and a little too comfortable with her in my arms. The scars on her back are pressed to my forearm, their knotted texture deepening my consternation. My scars aren’t visible, but we share the same pain, hidden deep but still present. She’s a lot like me in that regard, and I don’t like knowing how much she’s hurting. Any resistance she gives me during the day melted when I held her.
It’s hard to hate you when I know you’re broken like Petr.
I hate being vulnerable, hate feeling weak, especially in front of someone else. Emotions, self-doubt, and lack of discipline have no place in my world. Last night, I went through all three in front of the woman I am struggling to keep my distance from.
Am I broken? I really don’t know. I was in counseling for all of a month after losing the four guys on my team. My response to pain is to create more distance between me and it, so I can function. If I admit to being broken, I could have my command taken. Even if temporarily, it’s not something I want to risk. The Corps is my life and the guys I lead my family.
I can’t lose any of that. Not even the psychologist assigned to the forward operating base where my team works out of was able to convince me to stay in counseling beyond the mandatory thirty days.
How is it that Katya makes me reconsider?
I want to let my hands travel her body but don’t. Last night was wrong in so many ways. Kissing her, almost losing control.
Not fucking her when I had the chance.
You’re an idiot, Sawyer. I know stopping was the right thing to do. I’m not ready for a relationship. Katya isn’t the kind who wants anything to do with a military boyfriend – or the military. She deserves more than a one-night stand, and I’m not about to disrespect her brothers by sleeping with their sister.
Sometimes being honorable sucks.
I can’t get over how different she was with me. Sweet, caring, gentle. Talking and holding me when I know she hates me.
Restless and frustrated by the thoughts, I ease out from under her. She’s a deep sleeper, hard to wake up from what I’ve learned the past couple of days. I get dressed then shake her gently.
