Chapter 27 #2
She trembled nervously despite the warm room and clenched her fists to try and hide it.
“Don’t be afraid, Little Bird,” he whispered, settling back against the headboard, and for a moment she drank him in, his torso a little softer than it was when she’d seen him shirtless in the war, still just as tantalizing—more so, for the years meant he’d survived it, and now he was all hers.
“I, umm…” Hand trembling with sudden shyness, she reached into her suitcase and withdrew the old prophylactic she’d brought from home.
Rook’s eyes grew wide, surprised but not shocked. They still twinkled with delight. “Is that… from the quartermaster?”
She nodded, feeling forward but not foolish for her planning.
“My darling girl, I doubt it’s still worth using,” he chuckled, as he pulled her close and kissed her hungrily.
Crestfallen, a fresh wave of heat flared in her cheeks. Who knew there was an expiration on such things?
He pressed a cool hand to her hot face and whispered, “But I’m so glad you won’t be upset to know I brought my own Durex. Just in case," he added, showing her the packet in his other hand.
Ash smiled. They were always so in sync, dear Rook and she. “Once prepared—”
“Twice rewarded,” he murmured.
She came to him, straddling his lap once more, and just held him close, chest to chest and skin to skin.
He wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, shrouding her in bergamot and basil and bliss until she pulled back to inspect and kiss the tiny burn mark on his chest where no bullet had ever pierced.
She could never get enough of kissing Alex Rook, of the enthusiastic way he kissed her back, the scratch of his stubble assuring her he was real, this time without hesitation or anxious glances, this time no pulling back in fear of being caught before they charged into the fray.
He skimmed his cool hands up and down the lines of her body, exploring her shoulders, her ribs, the firm peaks of her breasts, the swell of her hips as she ground against him, until finally he slipped inside her, both of them gasping in unison at the connection, two halves who had searched through the entire universe connecting as they’d been born to connect, both of them finally made whole.
“Hold on tight,” he whispered, rolling them to their sides, cuddling her close against his chest as her leg wrapped around his waist.
He moved slowly inside her, and she rocked with him in tantalizing communion, each touch a symphony of sensation, each quiet crescendo bringing them closer, as they kissed and wept and gasped out each other’s truest name.
Afterwards, tucked cozily against his side, she murmured, “I’ve been such a prize fool.”
She felt him swallow, but his voice was even when he asked, “Tonight? With me?”
“Not tonight,” she assured him, kissing the broad bicep of his arm wrapped tight around her. “Every day until tonight… I told myself you’d reject me if you ever found out the truth of how I felt.”
“How could you even think it?”
“I suppose I told myself it was so to protect me from craving something more.”
He turned onto his side where he could look her in the eye, lacing his fingers through hers. “You couldn’t lose me twice, you said.”
“And I meant it. In more ways than one. I felt absolutely… treacherous for not telling you. Sometimes I imagined you’d figured it out, that it was an unspoken secret just between us two. And then, when you kissed me in the trench that day…”
“September the third.”
“September the third.” She took another breath. “For one brief moment, as we kissed, it was all true. I felt certain you’d figured me out and were letting me know. I saw our whole future in that kiss. But the look on your face just after—I realized I was wrong.”
“Ah.”
“Later, in the deepest grips of the blue devils, I convinced myself that if you had loved me before, you would hate me for the deception upon learning the truth, and that if friendship were even possible it would be a sort of torture. A half life. I wasn’t entirely innocent.
I knew men could love other men romantically.
But I didn’t know you could love both, and my selfish desire for all or nothing stole so much time from us. ”
“Self-preservation isn’t selfish,” he rasped. “My God. I’ve been ashamed of that kiss for so long—stolen without permission before pushing you away afraid of who might see—and I, a senior rank. That alone should’ve stopped me—”
“Don’t you dare regret it,” she said, squeezing his arm. “That kiss kept me alive.”
“You said once you thought I hated you the day we met. But the truth is, I was drawn to you. I took one look at you and knew—”
“I’d be trouble.”
“For my heart. I knew the day would come when my defenses would get the better of me, and I dared not hope it would be a welcome advance… Ash, I mourned you every single moment these last twenty years.”
“When you found me and confirmed you hadn’t known the truth, I vowed then not to make the same mistake again. I would take whatever crumbs of friendship you had to offer and be damned if I dared ask for anything more.”
He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder, her cheek. “Your selflessness is duly noted, but every crumb I have to offer,” he murmured, “the entire Butterpl?tzchen is yours to keep.”