Grey Skies - A Military Romance (Complete)

Grey Skies: Chapter 18

The scene was always the same. They were in bed, a cold night in a dark room. Every detail was so achingly familiar. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sophie knew it was only a dream, but she gave in, sinking into the depths of the dream, craving the lost connection.

Every muscle in her body loosened. Thomas was here. In her bed. Holding her. His chest pressed against her back. His breath coming in hot puffs on her neck. Fingers flittered across her skin, leaving scorch marks on her shoulder, arm, stomach. Her nipples tightened as her body ignited with desire.

If she turned around, he'd vanish like smoke on the wind and they'd lose this precious moment, the only time left to them now. Fragmented images of what was, what had been, wove together in this illusion, creating a pocket between reality and missed possibilities. Afraid to move and break the spell, return to a world without the only man she'd ever loved, she drank in his touch, his warmth, savoring the memory like the taste of organic honey, sweet and natural.

Velvet kisses peppered her neck, and electricity raced to her core. This dream was more vivid than others. Maybe because it had been far too long since he'd come to her in her dreams. She feared she was losing him, the memory of him.

But here he was. At last. Although, his touch was more intimate, firmer and wanting. Her insides melted to molten lava, and she shifted involuntarily, searching for relief from the ache between her legs. His hand rested on her hip, branding her and she hungered to give in, touch him, reach back and hold the length of him in her hand. A moan caught in her throat as the pad of his thumb travelled south, toward the very spot she needed him to stroke her, to bring her to life again. To let her feel with all her heart just once more.

Every cell in her body longed to turn and gaze into his baby blue eyes, to see his love for her. Take his mouth and taste the luscious lips she could never get enough of in their short time together. Bask in his loving embrace, his long arms holding her to him as if he never wanted to let go. The temptation overwhelmed her and before her logical mind could send a message to stop, her yearning body and soul moved toward the one thing in the world she wanted above a restaurant of her own, above a successful career, above family and friends, above water and air.

She was so close, twisting in the cotton sheets. Maybe this time he'd be there, stay with her. A spasm rattled in her chest as she whipped around to catch him. Just one glimpse of him again. She begged any deity that might be listening.

Features formed before her and her heart leapt as she came face to face with a pair of dark chocolate eyes.

"Max." His name escaped Sophie's lips as her eyes popped open in the darkened bedroom. Her chest rose and fell in short pants, the hunger between her legs begging for relief. The cool bedding entwined in her fingers offered satisfaction and she willed her heart rate to slow, her body to find some semblance of balance.

The room felt cramped and close; the air reeking of a want she couldn't have. Shouldn't desire to begin with. She squirmed in bed, her skin hot, her body on fire. This was wrong. Not for one night since Thomas died had another man invaded her dreams, made her feel that way. Sitting up, she gulped in air, trying to remove the stone lodged in her throat.

When, three years after his death, she'd caved and brought another man into her bed as a cure for the physical intimacy she missed, she'd been relieved when things never got emotional. Even after learning to live with the ice pick of betrayal in her heart with every encounter, she'd stuck a deal with herself to indulge her body, but never her heart. And it had never been called into question before tonight.

Even with the few repeat performances she'd allowed with two men, the experiences had come nowhere near the tender organ under her breastbone. Over the years, there had been many men, but none invaded her mind.

Not until Max.

She squeezed her thighs together, an action she repeated so often these days she wouldn't need to work out for swimsuit season. What she didn't understand was why Max was different. Was it purely proximity? No, she'd worked with the waiter for months and had never felt anything this... solid. Sophie shook her head. Not possible. Max was an infatuation. His constant presence fuelled the lust. Perhaps she should give in, only to get him out of her system. Everything south of her belly button agreed with that plan, and she pinched her elbow to distract from the mounting tension.

Sophie threw back the covers and stumbled across the room. She needed to splash cold water on her face. Or dose her flaming body in an icy shower. It didn't register in her distracted mind that the lights were on in the bathroom. Not until her gaze fell upon the splendor of a half-naked Max, standing before her.

Was she still dreaming?

"Sophie?" Max's husky tone rolled over her skin like a gloved hand and her stomach muscles clenched. Her name from his lips was an aphrodisiac she did not need, but craved more of.

She dragged her gaze from the tiny water droplets glistening on his broad chest and held his stare for a nanosecond. Molten chocolate saw through her, and flames erupted on her cheeks. Embarrassment and something else jolted through her and she averted her eyes in a flash. Only to find herself staring at his reflection in the wide mirror over the double sink counter. Max, from another angle, broad shoulders, defined lines outlining six perfect squares, an inny for a belly button.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

He was sorry? She bit her lip, envious of the white towel clinging to his hips, skimming over deep grooves, touching the fine line of hair that sank beneath the fluffy cotton. There seemed nowhere else to look in this bathroom half the size of her old apartment that didn't give a view of multiple manly parts she wanted to lick.

Max angled toward her, his feet planted to the floor as he reached across the counter, pushing a small object in her direction. "I was curious."

Although even the flexing muscle in Max's forearm managed to turn her on, she focused on the green glass jar he offered. Was that her face cream? Her one indulgence, despite her dwindling bank account. Shipped directly from Korea, the few fluid ounces were worth their weight in gold to her.

"It's my..." Sophie found herself talking to a closing door. Max had fled the room.

Her feet took her in his direction, her hand on the knob, ready to twist. She froze, then pressed her damp forehead against the painted wood. There was no way she could go into his room. Because if she did, she couldn't control what happened. If, no, when she gave in to this attraction, there had to be a plan in place. Rules to follow. For Max's sake.

It was obvious he liked her. For how long was another question, but one she didn't want to concentrate on. Still, his feelings needed to be protected. If they slept together again and this... lust faded for her but not for him, she couldn't stand hurting him. Her hand shook at the notion, and she clenched it into a fist. No one was going to harm Max on her watch, at least not her.

Sophie abandoned the closed door, returning to the sink and turned on the tap. Cool water met her fingers as she cupped them to form a temporary bowl. The inflammation eased with each round of washing her face, and her mind eventually cleared.

Max deserved more than a spontaneous lay in the middle of the night, no matter how much she wanted to scratch that itch. After all, wasn't that what got her into this mess in the first place? Except if she gave in this time, she couldn't run away to Mary's place for breakfast until he departed. Max was here to stay, and she had to find a path that could meet both their needs.

Her thighs burned, and she squeezed the traitorous muscles again.

Sophie returned to room and climbed into her empty bed. Resigned to the fact sleep would elude her, she set her mind to constructing a plan of action.