Emma shifted in the bed, pulling the covers up around her. Why is it so cold? Vaguely, her mind registered the question. She huddled under the blankets, trying to regain some of the warmth which, for unknown reasons, had recently fled.
Then came the sound of crickets. With a groan, she rolled over.
Light poured into the bedroom through the open window. Ed’s strong silhouette blocked most of the streetlights. Windblown, the curtains danced around his body.
She sat up, letting the sheets fall around her naked torso. Her nipples beaded instantly in the cold autumn air, but she paid little mind, her entire being focused on the man she’d come to respect and admire—the man she loved.
Immediately, she knew what plagued him, why he was awake at this hour, why he was standing in the frigid breeze. It was the same problem that plagued her.
“Ed, come back to bed.” She grimaced as soon as the words left her mouth. She had a vision then of a woman whose face she couldn’t quite see, sitting in the very spot she sat, staring at the same man she was staring at. The words were a distant echo of the ones Jenny had once uttered.
He turned to face her. In his gaze, she witnessed the distance, the confusion, the hurt, and the pain. She understood then why everyone had been trying to help her. And she understood why they had failed.
Emma left the bed. This was a pivotal moment in their relationship. If she screwed this up, it would all be over right now. Tonight.
Cautiously, she approached him. She stretched her arm out but stopped just shy of touching his chest. Briefly, she entertained a thought about people living with PTSD and night terrors. “Are you awake?”
His whispered laugh startled her. “Yes, but I wish I wasn’t.”
“Tell me.”
“You won’t understand.”
“Yes, I will.”
“No,” he insisted, “you won’t.”
Emma wondered if he’d had this argument with Jenny. Had it happened more than once? Was it the reason she’d left and never come back? Had Jenny been hurt when he refused to open up?
She supposed she ought to be afraid of the stark emptiness in his eyes. Emma knew that empty gaze. She’d stared at it many times in the mirror.
“I know, Ed. I know where you are.” Her fingers connected with his flesh. Despite the open window, his body was warm, maybe too warm. How long had he been awake and suffering? “I might not know exactly what happened to you. I might not know exactly what you see, but I know where you are. It’s hot, sticky, and dirty. Sometimes it’s far too cold. Everything is different. The way it smells.” She shuddered at the memory.
Ed squeezed his eyes shut. “Gunfire and shouting. Then the silence.”
The silence was always the worst. At least when there was action, you could react. Things happened quickly, and decisions had to be made in rapid succession. But the silence was deafening. The only sound is your own blood pounding in your eardrums as you wonder just what’s happened and who’s safe.
She hadn’t witnessed nearly the same level of hell that Ed had, but she’d seen enough disturbing things to sour even the strongest stomachs.
Emma thrust the images away and focused on Ed. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s not that simple. It’s not just one thing.”
“Okay.” She refused to retreat. “Tell me.”
“When you sign up, you think you’re being brave and patriotic and that you’re protecting freedom and your country as well as your family—that you’re making a difference.” His Adam’s apple rose and fell. “Then reality sets in. You become a number to the government, one of the great many soldiers. Faceless. But that’s okay because you become part of a team, brothers in arms. You run manoeuvers and get to practice with weapons. You learn all sorts of new things. But it’s not just for practice.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You have to be willing to kill.”
“Is that the part that keeps you awake?”
He shook his head. “You have to because if you don’t, they will.”
Emma flattened her palm against his chest. His heart beat steadily. “What is it? What’s the worst thing?”
“The destruction. All the bodies of all those people.”
She was trying to follow, but he wasn’t giving her much to go on. “Was it an air raid? The aftermath of an attack?”
“People were starving every day in the streets. And not just adults, but kids, too.” He began to tremble. “One day, we came upon a school, or what we assumed was a school. Everyone had been slaughtered, just butchered by the Taliban. Children, teachers, everyone. All of them girls.”
Emma had nothing to say. She’d been there only a few years ago, and while it had improved for women, that still wasn’t saying much.
“Ariel was school age then. The same age as some of those girls.”
“Ed…” Emma struggled to come up with some way to soothe the pain.
He shrugged her off. “It was more than that. That was just one incident. It was always different. Maybe not always girls, sometimes boys. Not always murder, sometimes rape.” His body rose and fell with a weighty sigh. “Before you go over there, you hear about all that stuff on the news. You see it on your Facebook feed. And it happens all over the world. Homeless kids in Toronto, mass shootings in the States, genocides in Africa, floods, tsunamis, fires. But none of it seems real. It’s all just words on a page or something read off a teleprompter.”
As though in pain, Ed rubbed his stomach.
“But it’s real.”
He glanced over at her then. He blinked a few times, the emptiness leaving his gaze. A dark hardness replaced it. Emma knew he was erecting walls. She’d done the same thing.
“You should go.”
“What?” She gasped, shocked at his sudden decision. Had Jenny been tossed out in the middle of the night, too?
“You can pick Rufus up in the morning, but you should go home. Go back to your place.”
Emma peeked at the clock. It was a little after three in the morning. They’d get up in a few short hours to start their workday.
There was no way in hell he was kicking her out. Not before they had a long talk. Not before she had a chance to convince him that keeping her around was for the best for both of them.
She’d always felt comfortable in her own skin. She knew she didn’t have the curviest body, or the biggest boobs, or the plushiest ass. She was still feminine—a woman—but as she crawled back onto the bed, she felt exposed. Heart, soul, and body were bared to him. If he kicked her out, it would devastate her.
“I’m not going home.” She left out tonight because if she had her way, she wasn’t leaving. Ever.
“It’s for the best. You should leave.” He looked at the bedroom door. It was a defense mechanism, she knew. He wanted to hide the problem. She wanted to drink it away. They needed to talk about it, but now wasn’t the time. There was no way he’d listen to her, not when he was emotionally pulling away.
Stalling, Emma scuttled further onto the bed.
Each day, he worked himself to the point where he fell, exhausted, into bed at night. For him, distraction was his coping mechanism. He needed a distraction now.
Butterflies swooped in her tummy. Nervous that he would reject her, Emma reclined on the bed, propped up only by her elbows. On display and vulnerable, Emma reached one leg toward him, pointing her toes at his chest. The position widened her legs, revealing her bare pussy to him. “No. I’m calling in my favor.”
Not understanding, Ed shook his head. “What?”
But Emma knew she had him. His gaze was glued directly to where she’d hoped. “Do you remember when we were in the shower? And the hot tub? What I did for you?”
He nodded. Lust flickered in his formerly vacant gaze.
“You said you owed me. Well, I’m calling in on that promise. That favor.”
He licked his lips. His gaze moved over her, stirring her passion. “What is it you want?”
“I want you to return the favor.” Her leg, still hoisted in the air, quivered. “Go down on me, Ed. I want you to eat me.”
His movements were so slow she didn’t realize how close he was until her foot slipped against his skin. His nimble fingers encircled her heel. He pressed his thumbs into her flesh, massaging the muscle there. “You should have left when I told you to.”
Emma’s shoulders dropped to the mattress. “You didn’t tell me. You suggested it. But honestly, isn’t this better?”
He kissed her ankle again and again, lulling her. She gasped when he pulled her foot higher, tossing it over one of his big shoulders and hauling her body closer to the edge of the bed.
“Ed…” Her complaint died on her lips as his mouth proceeded to pursue a trail up her leg. Licking, kissing, and nibbling, Ed left her leg damp and her pussy dripping. She was anxious for him to hurry up, but his progress was slow, deliberate. Her need was becoming painful.
“Ed, can we hurry it up a little?” Emma panted.
“You in a rush?”
“No. Of course not, it’s just…” She wiggled a bit on the bed.
He paused and gazed into her eyes. “Just what?”
“I want your mouth on me.”
He smiled against her skin, then licked the sensitive spot behind her knee. “My mouth is on you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she half cried, half giggled her anguish.
He bit into her thigh, sending ripples of pleasure to her center. He was so close, if he’d only move a little higher up.
“You should have left when you had the chance, little girl.”
“Why?” she asked in a voice so husky she barely recognized it as her own.
Ed grabbed her other ankle from where it rested on the bed. She growled when he pulled away, his fingers playing with the toes of this newly-found foot. “Because now you’re not going anywhere, and I don’t plan on sleeping again tonight. Now you’re at my mercy.”
A good place to be, Emma thought.
He rubbed her foot, running his fingers between each toe, causing a tingling sensation to shoot up her body. His tongue moved over her ankle bone.
In the corner of the room, she heard Rufus stirring. Ed told him, “Go to bed, boy. Mommy’s busy.”
With a disgruntled woof, Rufus dropped back onto his blanket.
Emma watched as Ed’s dark fingers slid over her skin, up her calf, over her knee, coasting along her thigh. Hopeful, her body clenched, waiting for him to touch her most intimate place. When his palm glided along her hip bone instead, she was more put out than the dog and huffed her disappointment.
His dark gaze roamed over her. Gripping her ankles once more, he turned her right foot to look at her newest tattoo. “What does it mean?”
She grimaced and played dumb. “What?”
“My initials on your tattoo. You carved them into your body. I want to know why.” When she opened her mouth to answer, he cut her off. “And don’t lie.”
Maybe it was time for some hard truths. On a shaky breath, she dragged the words out. “Because I love you.”
They stared at each other. She half expected him to kick her out. Part of her believed he might say it back.
He did neither.
He dropped to his knees, pulling her body to the edge of the bed. With her legs spread wide, her knees hooked over his shoulders, Emma let out a shocked gasp. Ed turned his face to her inner thigh and kissed over the names tattooed there. “Tomorrow,” he said between kisses, “you’ll tell me what these names mean to you.”
She didn’t argue. “Anything you say. Just, please, don’t stop.”
She barely heard his whispered response. “No. Never.”
His hot tongue traced the line of her leg, up and over her hip bone. She twisted on the bed. With his thumbs, he opened her, rubbing along her vulva, teasing her lips, waking up each nerve ending. She wiggled a bit.
Exposing her clitoris, he blew on it, the heat from his breath exciting her. She whimpered his name.
Seconds later, his lips closed over that tiny bundle of nerves.
She felt herself sinking into the bed. When his mouth moved higher and hit an acutely sensitive spot, she fisted the fitted sheet and whispered, “Yes. There. God. Don’t stop.”
He dropped one finger, letting it rest against her entrance, testing her wetness. He circled, spread the fluid, and eased inside. Her thighs clenched around his ears.
Slowly, he worked her, his finger stroking her passage, his mouth sucking steadily. Soon, she was purring. He stayed with her when her body bowed, and a climax crashed over her. She shook and cried out and, after an eternity, fell exhausted to the bed.
Ed licked over her again. She struggled to turn away, but his hold was firm. “No, no more.”
Chuckling, he released her. “I could get you there again.” She had no doubt of that. “But I have another idea.”
He crawled over the bed, dragging her into the middle of the king-sized mattress. She barely had time to get settled before he shoved his engorged cock into her. Eyes closed, she tried to adjust to his size. He seemed bigger than before.
His fingers stroked over her cheeks. With each swipe, she could smell her musky scent. “Tomorrow,” he confided, “tomorrow, we’re going to have a long talk.”
Emma nodded, unsure whether that would be dreadful or solve their problems.
“Ready?”
Her eyelids flickered open. With his face so close, she noticed how thick his eyelashes were. “Ready for what?”
He moved, pulling out and thrusting hard.
Emma sucked in a breath.
“Okay?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and linked her ankles.
He started fucking her. Fast. Hard. Driving away the demons.
She clenched around his cock. Still hyper-sensitive after her first climax, a second one hit her before she was ready. He didn’t stop, and it spurred another.
Her fingers dug into his biceps. He kept pushing her, riding her, making demands of her. She was ready and able to keep pace. Her hips rocked with him, encouraging his rough pace.
Without warning, he rolled them. “Up.” Hands on her hips, he helped her straighten.
She paused for a moment, resting her palms on his abdomen. Inside, she felt his dick twitch. She was sure he’d done it on purpose. He did it again, and her body tightened around him, bringing them both pleasure.
He stopped teasing her and instead helped her to rock. When she had the pace he wanted, he released her hips and grabbed her tits. “Your tattoos are hot.”
Eyes closed, she smiled. It pleased her to know that he enjoyed her body.
Muscles working, she rode him long and hard. One hand dropped from her chest to further arouse her clit. She clenched around him. She’d barely reached the peak of her orgasm when he pulled her forward. His cock popped out of her. Reaching down, he stroked himself as he came, shooting cum all over his stomach.
“Sorry,” he muttered. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I forgot a condom.”
She rolled onto her side to catch her breath. Stretching her legs, she told him, “I’m on the pill.”
“Still.” He reached to the nightstand for a tissue. “I’m not taking any chances.”
He disappeared into the bathroom to clean up. By the time he came back into the bedroom, she’d turned the bedside lamp on. They switched places so she could tidy up.
Afterward, she flopped next to him on the bed.
His head rolled to the side so he could look at her. “Thanks for staying.”
“It was my pleasure. Multiple times.” She giggled, but he grabbed a fist full of her hair. Closing the gap between them, he kissed her.
“I mean it.”
She cuddled into him. “You don’t have to face it alone.”
He said nothing. She glanced at the clock. Soon, he’d have to begin preparing for work. They didn’t have time to talk. “Tonight, after work, can we talk about it?”
Unsmiling, he agreed. “About that and more.”
Emma decided she wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.