by Soraya Lane
Brett took a deep breath and reluctantly rolled over onto his stomach, hands under his chin as he lay there for her to inspect him. He was expecting a gasp, something to tell him what a shock it was for her seeing him like that, but all he could hear was silence. A long stretch of silence that had him holding his breath, wishing he’d refused.
And then she touched him. Brett dropped his head into the pillow. He’d been waiting for her to make a noise and now he was the one forcing back a groan. Or maybe it was a cry for help, he didn’t know—all he knew was that Jamie was touching him in a way that was making him want to scream at her to stop, and at the same time beg her never to take her hands off of him. Because now she’d seen it, there was no going back, and all of a sudden he wanted her to see the real him. Needed her to see his pain and help to heal him, because he didn’t want to be broken anymore.
Her fingers traced his entire back, dipped into the tender areas where he’d almost been burned alive, before she caressed the smooth parts of his back that reminded him of what all his skin had once looked like. What his body had once been.
Then she started to trace down his leg, too, the leg that he was so lucky to still have attached to his body, but that was disfigured from the skin grafts he’d painfully endured in recovery.
“Stop,” he commanded, head rising off the pillow. His back was one thing, but she was taking things too far.
“No,” she whispered, pushing him back down and straddling his buttocks instead. He still had his boxers on, but he could feel the heat of her as she sat on him. “Don’t move a muscle.”
* * *
Jamie put her palms over Brett’s arms as he spread them out on either side of him. At the same time she dipped her head until she could press a soft, warm kiss to his back, between his shoulder blades. Here, the skin was still smooth and tanned, like his back had always been, and she wanted to start here before she moved lower.
“Jamie…” She heard him mumble her name.
She continued undeterred, moving her mouth slowly down his back. When she reached the first of the jagged edged lines that crisscrossed down his entire lower back, she made her kisses even lighter, only just letting her lips touch him, as soft as she could make them. His skin was still pink where he’d been burned, the marks a blazing reminder of what he’d been through, and she needed to show him that she didn’t care, that she could deal with the wounds he’d come home with, the wounds that he’d be forced to live with forever. That she accepted the man he was today as much as she would have accepted the man he’d been before the explosion—that in her eyes he was no different.
Her hair fell forward and splayed across his back as she started to move lower again, making her way down his leg now, shuffling her body farther down the bed. His right leg was impossible to compare to his back—the scars extended all the way down his thigh and calf, enough to make her want to gasp, at least when she’d first seen them. But now she focused on the shape of his leg, the muscles still bulging from his calf, the thickness of his thigh that told her how fit he was, how determined he’d been to stay strong even through what must have been a painful recovery. Brett was a fighter, she knew that, and he’d endured what might have broken others.
“They’re just marks, Brett,” she told him as she wriggled back up his body and sat on his buttocks again, hands spread out over his back as she gently massaged his shoulders.
“They’re marks I’ll have forever,” he muttered.
When he went to move, she pushed herself up on her knees so he could flip onto his back beneath her. Jamie lowered herself when he looked comfortable, staring into his eyes as she leaned forward. She tucked her long hair behind her ears to keep it out of the way.
“You’re still the same, handsome Brett you were to me before I saw them,” she said. “It’s part of you now, and they don’t scare me.”
“You have to say that now,” he told her. “You can’t exactly be honest with me about how much they disgust you.”
Jamie frowned. “Of course I can be honest with you.” She paused, touching his cheek with the tips of her fingers because she needed to connect with him, needed him to know that she was telling the truth. “Do your scars terrify me and remind me of what we’ve both lost? Sure. But they’re just marks, Brett, and they’re your marks, so there’s no point in pretending like they’re not there. Now that I’ve seen them, I’ve seen them. You don’t have to worry about hiding them from me, or how I’ll react.”
“I hate that I have a constant reminder on my skin,” he admitted, reaching up for her and stroking a hand down her hair until he reached the ends of it, skimming the center of her back.
“At least you’re alive to be reminded of it,” she whispered. “At least you’re here, right now, in my bed.”
Brett groaned, his hand falling from her hair. “I’m sorry, I…”
“Shhhh,” she said, leaning down on to him, her elbows on either side of his head to prop herself up, bodies pressed together. “Stop talking.”
“And what?” he asked.
“Kiss me again.”
Jamie didn’t wait for Brett to act, because she was already hovering above him, lips aching to close over his and feel what it was like to be almost naked and this intimate with a man she’d been attracted to for so long. And he didn’t disappoint. Brett’s mouth was firm against hers, his lips warm and soft. His hands were in her hair as she pressed herself even tighter against him, her body tight to his.
She could feel how much he wanted her, and it only made her sure in her decision. Brett wasn’t just some rebound guy to her, someone to fill the bed with to keep her warm. He was a man she already cared so much about, only now…
“Jamie, I think we need to slow this down,” he said, hands still tangled in her long hair as he yanked her back a little.
“No,” she told him, wriggling against him until he groaned, fighting him. “Don’t stop.”
Jamie was being cruel to him, she knew she was, because he was trying to be the good guy and she was the one lying on top of him, forcing him into compliance. Making him be bad. But she didn’t want him to be the good guy right now, didn’t want him to think at all, she just wanted him to act.
“Are you sure?” he mumbled in between kisses.
“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life,” she whispered, before claiming his mouth again and teasing him with her tongue. There was no way she was going to let him stop.
Brett’s moan was all she needed to spur her on, to make her reach behind her back and fumble to unhook her bra. His expert hands came to her assistance, and all of a sudden they were completely skin-to-skin, her breasts against his warm chest, almost as close as two people could be.
“This feels right,” she told him, pulling back so she could look into his eyes. “Don’t you think?”
From the way he was staring back at her, she knew he felt the same. It was different, it was terrifying, and it was exhilarating, because it was the first time she’d been intimate with a man who wasn’t her husband in six years, but it was Brett. And if there were ever going to be another man besides Sam she made love to, she knew in her heart that it was right that man was him.
CHAPTER TEN
JAMIE WOKE UP and reached out an arm, feeling for Brett, but she opened her eyes instead because there was no warm body beside her. She sat up, pulling the sheet up with her to cover her breasts, and she spotted him straight away. He was sitting in the big armchair she had beside the window, his T-shirt and boxers on, staring at something that she couldn’t see. Or maybe he was just staring at nothing.
“Hey,” she said.
Brett turned, his big body filling the entire chair that had always seemed so roomy to her when she tucked her legs up and read a book in the sun.
“Morning,” he replied.
Jamie watched the way he looked at her, like he wasn’t sure, like something was troubling him. His expression was nothing like the one she’d witnessed before they’d
fallen asleep.
“Brett, what’s wrong?”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “You want me to be honest?”
She knew there was only one answer she could give to that question. “Yes.”
He sighed. “Everything.”
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away, refused to let them even come close to spilling. After last night, she’d expected to wake up in his arms, thought what they’d shared was special, that they’d just pick up again where they’d left off, but the way he was looking at her…
“I don’t understand,” she managed to say, eyes never leaving his.
She watched as Brett stood and crossed the room, moving to the bed beside her. A low moan from Bear made her gaze flicker for a second, but the dog was still in his own bed.
Brett took one of her hands, the other still clutching the sheet and keeping her covered. All of a sudden she felt vulnerable being naked, whereas before she’d been completely comfortable.
“I feel guilty,” he admitted, fingers stroking the back of her hand as he held it. “I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”
She understood the guilt, but if he was having second thoughts about what they’d done… “Brett, I don’t regret last night, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not for a moment.”
He moved closer, his thigh pressed to hers as he faced her. “I don’t regret it, either, but what we did, what happened, it’s changed everything.”
“Is that the worst thing in the world?” she asked.
He smiled, but the sadness in his eyes scared her.
“If I’m honest with you, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than be with you. For the first time since the explosion, I’ve slept through the night, like I’m protected in your arms from the worst of my memories. And then I wake up and realize that I’ve taken Sam’s place, that I’ve taken something from him, and it scares me.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “If Sam was here, this never would have happened, Brett,” she told him, her voice barely more than a whisper. “But we are here, together, and somehow we’re helping each other through. Can’t we just enjoy being together without feeling guilty?”
He nodded. “I’ve always thought of you as part of my family, Jamie. I guess I just don’t want to be responsible for losing another family member.”
Jamie touched his cheek, let the sheet fall away to her waist. “You’re not going to lose me, Brett. I promise. But I’m also not going to lie to you and say that I don’t love Sam still, because I do. So much. But the way I feel for you…”
“We can’t,” he insisted.
“We can,” she said firmly, not about to let them ruin what had happened because they were afraid. Because he was scared of losing something that he wasn’t even in danger of losing.
They stared at each other, and she knew how hard it was for him because it was just as hard for her.
“You’re not betraying Sam.”
“If sleeping with his wife isn’t betraying him, then I don’t know what is.”
“Come here,” Jamie said.
He looked like he was going to resist, but he obeyed, moving closer. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her, she knew that, but she also understood that his morals could ruin what was so fragile, so new, between them right now.
“Take off your top and get under the covers.”
Brett went to protest but she shook her head before he could say anything. “Just do it for me, please.”
He followed her instructions and pulled the covers up over them both, but he still looked awkward. Jamie pushed him down on the pillow then lay her head on his chest, arm around him.
“I need this, Brett. After last night, I can’t deal with arguing or not having you here beside me. Because then I might start to feel guilty about what we did, and I’ve accepted the decision I made.”
She listened to his breathing, focused on the inhale and exhale of air and the way it made his chest move.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Brett told her.
She traced circles on his skin, fingertips needing to touch. “You won’t hurt me, Brett, and I won’t hurt you. But if you walk out on me? That will hurt. Because I don’t want last night to have meant nothing. If we’re talking about betraying Sam, then that would be it.”
“As in you don’t want what we did to be a one-night stand.”
“I don’t want it to be a one-night anything,” she admitted, moving so she could rest her chin on his chest and stare at him. “What we did wasn’t because of loneliness or selfishness, it was because it felt right, and I know you feel the same.”
Brett reached for her hair, stroking it. “I just don’t feel right, being in this room, seeing the photos of him, knowing that I’ve just stepped in and somehow taken over his life. Slept in his bed with his wife. It’s not okay.”
Jamie smiled at him, needing him to be honest with her, needing to hear the words that he’d been holding trapped inside.
“You stepped in to look after me, and what happened between us? It just happened. But if you want me to…”
“You’re not taking down his photos because of me.”
She laughed at the seriousness of Brett’s tone. “I’m not taking down any photos, but what I was going to say is that we can always stay in the other bedroom. If you need to, I mean.”
Brett groaned. “Can we just go out for breakfast? Walk somewhere?”
“You bet,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him.
What started as a light peck became deeper, their lips moving softly, brushing together, before Brett cupped the back of her head so she couldn’t get away, mouth more insistent.
“It doesn’t seem to matter what I tell myself,” he muttered, breaking the kiss, “I just can’t get enough of you.”
“Breakfast,” she told him, pushing herself up and dragging the sheet with her so she could escape to the bathroom without him seeing her naked in the bright light. “Before we end up staying in bed all day.”
It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but they both needed to get out of the house. There were too many memories in this room that were haunting Brett, and if she were perfectly honest, in the full morning sunshine, there was something not so easy to ignore about being with another man in the room she’d shared for years with her husband. No matter how much she wanted it to feel right, she knew that going out was exactly what they needed to do. A quick shower and a little makeup and she’d be ready to go.
She’d already been through losing her father, and then as good as losing her alcoholic mom for years at a time. So losing Sam and then losing Brett? Not something she had any intention of letting happen, especially not now that they’d spent the night together.
* * *
Brett clipped Bear’s leash on and dropped to his haunches, looking the dog in the eye as he ran his fingers through his fur. He missed his own dog like crazy, was so used to having a constant companion by his side.
“You’re doing pretty well with everything that’s going on,” he told the canine.
He received a low whine from Bear in return.
“It might not be guns and explosives, but it’s still tough, huh?”
“Are you talking to yourself or the dog?”
Brett cleared his throat when he realized Jamie had walked into the room. “The dog, of course. Talking to myself would just be weird.”
“He saying much in response?” she teased.
Brett looked her up and down, knowing there was no way he’d ever be able to resist her so long as he was staying in the house with her. When he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her, and when he was with her…damn. No amount of good intentions would ever help him when they were together.
“Let’s go,” he said, before he had any longer to think about Jamie and the way she was making him feel.
“Are we going to walk all the way there?”
He laughed. “You make it sound like it’s a hike.”
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“I’m the girl who always takes a car. You seem to keep forgetting that.”
“You have a dog now, and a guy with you who likes to feel like he’s earned a cooked breakfast. So Bear and I vote for the walk, that’s you outnumbered.”
Jamie sighed and took Bear’s leash from him, smiling as their hands collided. “My dog, remember? I’m the one who’s supposed to be up for walking all the time.”
Bear was looking up at them, studying them each in turn, and he felt sorry for the poor dog, listening to them banter. There was no chance he’d ever figure out what they were saying, and he’d been so used to understanding commands when he’d been on the leash for work.
“He’s all yours, let’s go.”
Brett waited for her to shut and lock the door behind them, before walking slow to match her pace. The sun was shining down on them already, another hot Sydney day. He’d spent days and weeks out under the scorching sun, working with his dog and the other guys, patrolling for explosives constantly, but that sun had never been enjoyable. It had drained them all and made them grumpy, made their skin dry and their throats burn. This sun made him feel free. Alive.
“Brett, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened….”
He glanced sideways, seeing the frustrated look on Jamie’s face as she clearly tried to figure out how to talk to him about something she was obviously so desperate to know more about. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, it was just that dredging up the past wasn’t always worth the pain, or the reality. He’d been in a black hole that could have swallowed him alive, his thoughts so dark they’d almost consumed him, and going back wasn’t good for him or her.
If he shut his eyes, he could still smell the burned flesh, still feel the searing pain of the fire as it shot up his leg and across his back.
“I just…” She paused and stopped walking, arms crossed like she didn’t know what to do with them. “I just want to know if it happened fast? If he suffered. I’m sorry.” She blew out a big breath. “I’ve been wanting to ask someone that question for so long, and I think you’re the only one who can answer it because everyone else just wants to fob me off and pretend like it wasn’t anywhere near as horrific as I know it was.”
