Hold Me: Delos Series, 5B1 (14 page)

Nodding, he murmured, “That sounds logical.”

“We’re in a new world, Beau. Nothing is what it was before these things happened to us.” She grimaced. “We’ve changed, forever. But that doesn’t mean our lives are over. Once we adjust over time, we’ll get back on track with one another.”

“I hate taking sleeping pills and anti-anxiety meds,” he admitted. “I won’t do it, right or wrong.”

“I won’t take them either. I feel like I’m half-alive when I do. That’s not the quality of life I want.” She sighed. “I may have anxiety a lot, but at least I know when it spikes and what’s going on. And I can tell you when it happens, so we can discuss sensitive issues later, when those spikes have gone down.”

“Right.” He gave her an appraising look. “You’re a smart little fox. Earlier, after you left the cabin, I’d suddenly had a lightbulb go on in my head. I figured out that our normal pattern with each other had been altered by the PTSD. That helped me understand why we were talking past one another.” He added apologetically, “Callie, I’m going to stumble and fall a lot with you on this talking bit. I know how important it is to communicate, but I honestly feel scared that I’ll screw up so badly, you’ll give up on me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Beau. We need a time-out word or gesture when we reach a point like we did back there in the cabin. We both have to take a step back and agree to discuss it at another time when we’re not prisoners of our own anxiety and the high cortisol flooding our systems.”

“I want to do this, but I’m feeling pretty shaky about it,” Beau admitted. “It’s not that I don’t want to try it, Callie. I do.”

“We’re like two people without a skin to protect ourselves any longer, Beau. At least, that’s the way I feel at times. And when we’re horribly vulnerable, feeling like we’re under threat, we need to tell one another, like you did with me just now. You told me how you really felt. You have no idea how refreshing that is to me. Now, I don’t have to let my wild imagination take me to stupid scenarios that are untrue. At least now, I know you’re feeling like you’re on quicksand. I get that. I can handle that.”

“But we’re not always going to be perfect at this, Callie. We’re human. I hope you don’t set me up on a pedestal and think I’m not going to slip off it more times than not.”

“I hope the same thing from you, Beau,” she told him, reaching over, touching his hand. “I know how much patience you had with me before you got wounded.”

“I still have that patience,” he reassured her. Taking her hand, he kissed it. “I think our love will give us the tolerance we need so long as we talk honestly.”

“I believe that,” Callie said wistfully. She leaned forward, kissing him on the mouth.

Beau luxuriated in the softness of her lips skimming his. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers wrap around his as he leaned toward her. She smelled so good! Her flesh was soft and fragrant. Already, he could feel his erection stirring. It was the first time that had happened since he’d been shot. As he eased from her wet lips, drowning in the luster of her half-open green eyes, he wondered if their talk had removed some of the burden he’d felt every day. The tension that had stiffened his shoulders was suddenly, miraculously gone, too.

“You’re right,” he rasped, lifting his other hand, smoothing some strands from her temple. “We’re like raw meat thrown out on a hot sidewalk, left to burn on it.”

She chuckled and sat up, continuing to hold his hand. “That sorta says it all. Quite a verbal visual you gave me, Gardner.”

Perking up, loving her teasing of him, he gave her a bashful grin. “That’s okay. We have one another, Callie. And that’s all that counts. If I have to have this curse the rest of my life, I’m glad you’re at my side. No other person could ever understand what we go through daily.”

“And I sure wouldn’t want to have to go through this with someone who didn’t understand.”

Some of the ewes crowded over to where she sat, straining their thick, short necks in the direction of her knees, wanting her touch, once more. She smiled and leaned over, dutifully scratching the top of each of their heads. “We have to start over with one another, Beau. We can’t go back to how we were before. We’re in a new world together. We’re going to have to ask a lot of questions and both of us has to be willing to tell the truth. And that takes guts. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, watching each ewe close her eyes with satisfaction as Callie scratched each of their heads. He watched her for a moment, wanted her hands on him. An ache grew in his heart and he yearned to have her against his body, in their bed, naked, warm, and willing.

Mouth dry, he said, “Would you like to come to bed with me tonight, Callie? Lie at my side?” He saw her eyes fill with joy.

“I’d love that, Beau!”

“I can’t promise you anything. I mean, I want to, but I’m scared as hell. I’m scared that PTSD will rear its ugly head.”

“We’ll talk through it,” she said, her voice choked up. “Let’s just take one step at a time.”

A huge load slid off his shoulders. Studying her, he demanded, “Are you sure, Callie?” What if he couldn’t get it up? That scared him more than anything else except for her walking out on him forever.

“What matters is that you hold me close, Beau. I need to lay my head on your good shoulder. That’s all I need right now. It’s more than enough for me.”

C
allie felt hope
racing through her as she stood with Beau in the shower. It was too small to inspire much messing around, but she happily washed his back for him, kissed his nape, and when he turned around, he kissed her long, hard, and deeply. And that told her all she needed to know beneath the streams of warm water.

They laughed as they stepped out because they could barely turn around in the plastic enclosure without bumping into one of the walls. She towel-dried him, noticing the deep pink of his scar in the middle of his right side, across his ribcage. She pulled a towel across his broad shoulders, wanting to keep him warm because the June night was cool. The steam hung in the bathroom where they stood. “That looks so tender,” she said, placing her fingers lightly across the scar.

“It is,” he said, pulling the towel across her shoulders, gently patting her neck and shoulders dry.

“Does it hurt when you move?”

“Twisting a lot does hurt,” he admitted. “But with time, the doc said it will stop hurting. I’m okay. Really,” he said, cupping her face, leaning down, and sliding his mouth along hers. Naked, they closed the gap between them and held each other close.

Her nipples hardened even more as he kissed her slowly, his breath moist against her cheek. She moaned as she brushed herself against him, her whole body on fire as his mouth worshipped her. She eased her arms up and over his shoulders, pulling herself fully against him. Callie could feel Beau’s erection—it had been there since they’d stepped into the shower together. Now, his hard length was pressing insistently into her belly, letting her know in another way how much he desired her. It felt so good! It had been such a long, harrowing road that they’d walked together since she’d seen him in Bethesda at the medical center.

Drowning in the strength and tenderness of his mouth, Callie wanted nothing more than to be with Beau in every possible way. Her thoughts began to dissolve as his hands left her face and drifted downward, cupping her lush breasts. He stepped back so he could brush her nipples with his thumb, and her knees nearly caved from the electricity leaping between them. His erection became even harder, if that was possible. She heard him groan as he stroked her breasts with his large, calloused hands. Sparks of fire erupted in every cell of her body from the pleasure. Already, she was damp between her legs, this time not with water, but with her own fluids, as her body responded to his tender ministrations.

“I want you,” Beau said raggedly against her wet lips. “Tell me what you want, Callie,” and he drew back just far enough to look into her eyes, awash with a hungry desire for him.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said, her voice tremulous, heavy with need for him.

They quickly dried off, holding hands as they walked into their small bedroom. Night had fallen, a full moon rising in the east, sending slats of milky light through one of the two windows. Callie pulled down the covers on her side of the squeaky, old brass bed that had stood the test of decades in the log home. She grinned as she climbed in.

“It could get noisy in here, Beau.”

He returned her wicked look. “That’s okay by me.” He got into bed, pushing the sheet and blankets to the footboard. “Okay with you?”

Callie watched him lie down on his back. “Fine by me.” She knelt near his left side, placing her hand lightly across his thick erection. “Tell me how we go about this. I know your right side is still tender and healing. What’s the best position, Beau?” Beau had been hurt enough. Callie didn’t want to cause him more pain. All she wanted was to kiss this man senseless, and have him plunge deep inside her and be one with her.

“I don’t know,” he said, hesitantly. “We’ve not made love with one another since I got hit.”

She watched his eyes shutter close as she wrapped her fingers teasingly around him. He arched into her hand, groaning, gripping her hand, holding her in place. “Feel good?”

“You know it does,” he managed. “Don’t stop.”

And she didn’t. Her mind raced over possible positions with Beau and each one seemed to put pressure on his ribcage. She slowly kneaded his erection, hearing him groan with pleasure, and she leaned over, kissing him.

Instantly, Beau slid his hand across her nape, her thick hair falling around them as she searched his mouth. Everything felt so good, so natural, and her heart’s doors flew open with joy as she hungrily met his tongue with hers. Breathing shallowly, she pulled from his mouth, keeping her hand around him, staring into his narrowed, glittering eyes as he studied hers.

He was now the hunter and she, his prey. It was exciting to feel him stalking her like this. She reveled in his masculinity, giving herself completely to him in every way.

“Tell you what,” she whispered, kissing the corners of his mouth, “I think the best position is for me to be on my hands and knees, and you can come from behind me.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he admitted. “Are you okay with it?”

She gave him a grin. “Am I? Oh, yes!” She stopped short of telling him that he gave her wonderful orgasms in that position because she didn’t want to put undue pressure on Beau to perform. Even if he could come and she didn’t have any orgasms, Callie was fine with it. He was still healing. Judging from his erection, however, she was sure Beau could perform, but she wasn’t about to mention it.

“All I want,” she whispered against his mouth, “is for us to celebrate the fact that we love one another, Beau. Nothing more. Just getting to touch you again, to kiss you, is enough for me.” There was an instant look of relief in his eyes and she thanked her woman’s intuition for knowing ahead of time that he was worried about pleasing her. “Let’s just touch, kiss, and feel our bodies together again. No expectations.”

She leaned down, placing small, wet kisses along his jaw, his corded neck, and then, across his chest. She nibbled on his nipples and his hips bucked into her hand that was still holding his erection. Smiling to herself, Callie silently promised the man she loved that she would leave no square inch of him untouched tonight. This was a celebration after making it through the darkness, coming into the light, albeit slowly and with trepidation. She knew both of them felt anxious about pleasing the other as completely as they had before his wounding.

By the time she moved to her hands and knees, Beau was more than ready to come. As he pressed his erection against her wet opening, Callie braced, his hands tightening around her hips, pressing forward. She wasn’t sure who groaned more loudly when he sheathed slowly into her. The sensations were delicious, stretching and widening her, making her shake with the need for an orgasm.

Leaning back against him, she sucked him more deeply into her tight confines. His fingers dug into her flesh, alive with the pleasure she knew she was giving him. Callie wouldn’t allow him to pull out of her; she kept easing back against his body, asking him to thrust repeatedly into her.

She knew that Beau needed this, needed to come inside her. Being able to cement their relationship on a new level, a different one, was her priority. Love had many dimensions and she loved Beau enough to sacrifice herself for him, to strengthen his belief that as a man, he was as potent a lover, and a man, as he had been before. And once he began to slowly thrust into her, hearing his groan of utter ecstasy, she felt her love grow even more powerful. With each pumping motion, her own body heated up, leaped to life as he surged into her, orgasmic fire erupting within her. She cried out, her fingers digging deeply into the mattress beneath her hands, hurled into an inner space of utter release and satisfaction. And then, she heard him growl, freeze, feeling him release deep within her.

Callie sobbed with joy and relief. As she felt Beau collapse and lie across her back, his head resting against hers in the aftermath, she was grateful. Whatever those blockades and walls erected by the PTSD, they seemed to collapse with each climax. It was a new piece of information for her as she swam in the heated pool of their wet, sated bodies clinging together as they absorbed each other. Callie, luxuriated in his arms, gently wrapping herself around him. Beau kissed her hair, nape, and her damp cheek.

Still gasping from the pleasure moving in undulating ripples throughout her lower body, she hungrily absorbed Beau’s strength and masculinity. Finally, he gently eased out of her, turned her over, and guided her to lie down on her right side, her body resting against his. Their breathing was heavy as they lay together. She nestled her head against his left shoulder, desperately needing his arm around her, his fingers stroking slowly up and down her damp back. Callie was a satisfied woman, fulfilled at last, as she nuzzled into his neck and jaw, wanting nothing more.