Grey Skies - A Military Romance (Complete)

Grey Skies: Chapter 27

The cold tiles on her back contrasted with the warmth of Max's body. Tiny rivers of water etched their way along the grooves of his shoulder muscles, his torso protecting her from the pelting spray of the shower.

"Sophie." Part groan, part benediction, her name from his lips reverberated in his chest and her ears.

His pace slowed, and she dug her nails into his forearms. "Don't stop."

"Never."

Sophie tried not to think about time. Never and always. Minutes of feeling whole in Max's arms after years of having part of herself cut off, segregated to a forgotten chamber.

For a week she'd been sneaking into Max's bedroom at night, their daytime trysts simply not enough. Like a woman with a death sentence looming, she devoured Max like he was her last meal. Only hours ago she'd pried herself from Max's embrace, crept across his bedroom, through their adjoining bathroom to her own room and slipped into the cold sheets she hadn't used that night. Not staying until morning with Max was the only thin veil of resistance she had left to defend her against falling for this man. If she left, this thing between them stayed purely physical.

Max shifted Sophie further up the wall and stars formed behind her closed eyes. "Yes. There." She wanted him to rush, to push her over the edge, but that wasn't Max's nature. Unlike that first day in the kitchen, he rarely took the initiative, grabbed what he wanted with both hands and rocked her world with the animalistic hunger she knew he was capable of. Instead, he waited for her to kiss him, to give him permission to touch her. He tortured her with heavenly strokes until she could take no more. Until her body erupted, making sure, like now, that she found pleasure first.

Sophie squeezed her legs around Max's waist, pulling him closer. As close as two people could get. Her heart threatened to burst through her ribcage, spasms of ecstasy wracking through her. Max continued to move, like he could keep her in this state by sheer will and the pump of hips. He inhaled her moans, affixing kisses on her lips, breathing life back into her. Inhibitions gone and knowing praise was something Max needed, she babbled encouragements.

"I love—" she swallowed the word you. She was delirious, couldn't possibly mean that. "I love this."

"Me too." He pressed his forehead against hers and she felt him twitch deep inside her.

Max held them against the wall, stroking her ribs with his thumb, pressing heavy kisses against her sternum. Eventually he released her, helping her feet find the floor. He traced the curve of her cheek, pressed a slow kiss there, and brushed wet strands from her face. "Let's get you cleaned up."

With a tender touch, he massaged shampoo into her hair. He soaped her body with feather-light caresses, stroking every inch of her like she was something precious and revered. Once finished, Sophie mapped out each of his muscles with bodywash, cleaning him as he had her. She elongated the process, luxuriating in the ability to touch him unconditionally and to delay the inevitable; exiting the shower.

He wrapped a towel around Sophie, pulling her close. "I don't want to leave."

Did he mean today, or was there more to his words? She laid her head against his shoulder, avoiding searching his eyes for the answer. "It's only a weekend."

His hand stamped onto the small of her back. "Who camps in winter?"

"Finn and his brother, apparently." Sophie shifted to look at him. "You'll have fun. Get to chop wood, burn stuff, and do other manly things."

"Finn and Simon will have fun." His gaze dropped. "I'm the pity invite."

Her throat constricted. She wanted to find the person or persons who'd drilled this concept into Max, that he somehow wasn't good enough to be chosen, first and always, and give them a piece of her mind. Sophie's hands cupped his face. "Don't you ever think that. You are Finn's best friend." She angled his head up, trying to catch his gaze. "He very much wants you there."