Chapter 23 Rosco
ROSCO
Lying in bed with Rachel draped over me, feeling the best I’ve ever felt, after having the best sex of my life, I feel a change in her.
Her body tenses ever so slightly, and she sucks in a deep breath.
Worry creeps in as I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t, just exhales heavily.
The weight of her sigh is heavy, not physically, but something more potent.
“What’s wrong, angel?” I ask, wanting to know where her head is. She shakes her head without a verbal response. Something is wrong. Rachel is never at a loss for words. My face tenses with worry.
Does she regret what we’ve done?
If she’s regretting having sex with me, I’ll be devastated, even though I’d told her just hours ago this couldn’t mean anything.
Or is she upset because I insisted this could only be sex? If so, does that mean she wants more?
Hell, I want more. Images of us tangled together flash through my mind, because I can’t fathom being with anyone else after this. But can I take the chance, even knowing that being with me is not what is best for her?
I need to ask these questions, but I’m a coward, so I don’t. Instead I wrap my arms around her and hold her close, desperately trying to memorize this moment and how good she feels in my arms. I’m going to need it when the time comes to send her away.
To my relief she doesn’t push off but snuggles into me. So I hold her, brushing my left hand through her long locks. In a few moments, Rachel’s body completely relaxes, her breath even and deep in sleep. Laying here, listening to her breathe, my mind drifts to the dream I’ve had too many times.
It comes to me like a flash of lightening. I’d had the dream again last night. The one of First Lieutenant Montgomery standing before me holding my Ka-bar knife to her jugular. The one where I beg her not to do it over and over, but she does it every fucking time, except for last night.
This time it hadn’t been Brooke who’d held my knife in the dream, but Rachel.
When I’d begged her not to do it, she’d lowered the knife and promised not to hurt herself.
For the first time in over six years, the dream hadn’t ended with me waking up screaming and desperately trying to get the images of the First Lieutenant’s blood spraying out like a fountain, as she’d slit her own throat, out of my head.
Any other night, I’d have woken up in a sweat and been unable to get back to sleep. Last night, I’d slept better than I have since before that mission. The only thing different is the woman in my arms.
Yes, I’d had the dream, but it had been different this time. It had ended differently. I can only believe that I have Rachel to thank for it, but I won’t be able to tell her. She can never know how much she helped me this night. It’s too painful to talk about.
My phone buzzes on the night stand and draws my attention. I’m instantly alert. Without waking Rachel, I manage to grab my phone. Is someone about to breech my home?
“Robertson,” I bark into the phone, not bothering to see who’s calling. Rachel stirs a little but doesn’t waken.
“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Sunshine,” Marley snarks in greeting, “I thought you’d be in a much better mood this morning?
” Her statement ends sounding more like a question with a hint of disappointment.
She’s no doubt fishing for some juicy gossip for her, Luke, Bo, and Shelby to twitter on about. I’m not about to give it to them.
“Morning, Marley,” I reply, not taking the bait and answering her unspoken question.
“Well? Is Rachel okay?” Marley’s tone conveys her annoyance with me and my evasive tactics.
“I’m more than okay, Marley,” Rachel answers, her voice sounding rough from sleep.
She lifts her head from my chest. She clears her throat before continuing, “How’s the baby?
Did you have a rough night? Being out so late must have upset his routine.
” There it is. My angel worrying about everyone else.
“I don’t think he even noticed.” Marley laughs. “He’s up every two hours regardless to nurse. He’s a hungry little bugger.”
“He is his father’s son. He likes your tits, baby girl,” Luke’s voice comes from the background. “I like them, too, but he has taken them over.” I swear it sounds like my brother is pouting.
“Shhh,” Marley scolds, “they can hear you, you know?” Luke’s laughter is cut short by a loud swat, followed by Marley squealing with laughter. I roll my eyes. Seriously? Can they not keep their hands to themselves long enough to have a phone conversation?
“I’m going to hang up now,” I warn. “I do not want to hear that shit! Heard it enough before.” I try to sound pissed, but I’m not successful. Rachel grins at me, causing me to roll my eyes again.
“Oh, poo!” Marley exclaims. “You’re just jealous. I thought for sure you and Rachel would do the deed last night. I got hot and bothered just watching you two around each other.”
“True story!” Luke calls. “I had one hell of a night. Thank you both very much.” Rachel gasps but begins to laugh.
“Fuck, definitely hanging up now!” I end the call, shaking my head.
Rachel is shaking on top of me in laughter.
I grin, too. I’m glad my brother had amazing sex last night, because I sure as hell did.
I feel really, really good this morning.
Better than I’ve felt in years. And I have my angel to thank for it.
“God, your family is so funny.” Rachel giggles. “But so embarrassing. I’m really glad you didn’t tell her we had phenomenal sex last night, too.” Her words have me rolling her onto her back so she’s pinned under me. Her laughter dries up to be replaced with desire.
“I’m glad you thought it was phenomenal, because I did, too. But know this, I’d never embarrass you like that,” I inform her. “I, unlike my brothers, don’t have a need to share every detail of my life.
“What we do here, in this bed? That’s between you and me.
I’m not sharing one detail. The sounds you make, the way you move with me.
That is for me and me only. I’m not about to let anyone else know just how damn good you are at fucking, because then I’d have to fight off every unattached guy in ten states and some of the attached ones. ”
Rachel laughs as if she doesn’t believe me, but she should. It occurs to me I would burn the earth for her. Whatever she wants or needs. I’ll take care of her. Fuck me! How am I supposed to ever let her go?
Her stomach growls loudly. Hmm, seems like my girl needs to be fed.
I kiss her, because I can’t not kiss her.
Her hands begin to explore, but I put a stop to it.
She needs sustenance. She’s going to need to keep her strength up.
I plan to have her a least a dozen more times before her brothers return.
I wonder if Jason would mind having company a few more days? That’s a question for later though because Rachel’s belly lets it presence be known again, rather loudly.
“Come on, let’s clean up and get some breakfast.” I lift off her, much to her protests. She has the cutest pout on her sexy mouth. “Food first, then more sex, angel.” That gets her attention. She slides out of bed to follow me into the bathroom.
By some miracle and a whole lot of restraint on my part we manage to shower without having sex again. I indulge one of my fantasies, though, by washing her hair and her body myself. It was a win-win on my part, because she then insisted on washing me, too. Sweet, sweet torture.
She got handsy, of course, but I didn’t let her get me off. She needs to eat first. I’ve had blue balls for months. I can endure another hour, especially since I got off so many times last night, before I sink into her again.
We enter the kitchen, fully dressed I might add, when it hits me.
Do I even have anything to feed her? I’m considering getting my phone to put in a Doordash order when she strolls over to the fridge and begins pulling out eggs, bacon, milk, and butter.
She places them on the island where she’d cut up vegetables the night before.
Then she’s digging around in my cabinets pulling out bowls, flour, sugar, spices, and all kinds of shit I didn’t know I had. Perhaps I didn’t, and that is what was in all the bags the guys brought in last night.
I walk up behind her, gripping her hips to steady her while she is tiptoeing to reach something on the top shelf. She’s still struggling to reach the glass bowl she wants, so I press into her as I reach over her to grab it. She snatches it from my hand when it’s close enough with a huff.
“I would have gotten it,” she pouts, her lower lip protruding so temptingly. I lean down to nip it when she turns to face me. She swats at my chest playfully as if she doesn’t want me to kiss her, but the moment our lips connect she’s all in, giving as good as she gets.
This is what I love about her. When she commits to something she’s all in, no holding her back. Wait! I can’t be thinking the L-word, no, no, no!
I break our kiss and step back like I’ve been burned, because, yeah, that’s exactly what’s happening. I’m being consumed by this siren. She’s invaded my thoughts, my dreams, and now, it seems my heart, too. I am so fucked!
My eyes find hers to see the hurt I’ve put there by my actions.
This is why I’d fought so hard not to go there with her.
I knew I’d fuck this up and hurt her. In an instant, the look is gone, and her features are schooled once more.
She moves around me to begin preparing our breakfast, acting as if everything is fine.
“I’m going to check in with the guys,” I say over my shoulder, not sparing her a glance as I head toward the front door.