Pieces of Broken Time (16 page)

He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “You gonna hol’ me?”

Excuse me?

It didn’t sound as if he recognized her at all.

Deciding that reinjuring her foot was enough stupidity for one day, she said, “Sit here while I warm the water.” She pulled the toilet lid down and patted the seat. Turning the shower knob, she waited until the water reached the desired temperature.

How do I get myself into these things?

“Can you stand up?” she asked.

Blake nodded and fumbled for the light switch, engulfing the small room in darkness. “You gonna creep out.”

As he attempted to remove his clothing, Jennifer knew that she had to help. He could barely stand in his drunken state. There was no way he was going to get undressed without someone getting hurt.

“Hold on to me.”

Blake hesitated then placed his palms on her shoulders for support.

When she pulled his pants down, she felt a jerk in his midsection. Not wanting to embarrass him by reacting, she tried not to falter as she removed his boxers.

“S’not what I . . . ’cause I’m not gonna—” Blake cupped his mouth once again. “I don’t go round paying, you know, chicks for money. I mean sex. Or whatever. You know?”

In the darkness, there wasn’t much she could see, but it didn’t mean that her other senses weren’t twice as sharp. She heard his uneven breathing, smelled the alcohol with each exhale, and felt the tautness of his body brushing against hers.

Once his shirt was removed, Blake groped for the shower.

Jennifer took his hand and led him inside without a word. The water soaked the sleeve of her shirt.

“Yoush’d join me.” Blake tugged at her hand.

Jennifer closed her eyes and tried to slow her pounding heart with slow, deep breaths as her mind raced. Every sensible part of her screamed for her to march out of the bathroom, but there was a part of her that wanted to be with this man.

Big mistake. Big, big, huge mistake!

She opened her eyes and as they adjusted to the darkened room once more, she saw Blake standing under the warm spray, and she fought the urge to wrap her arms around him.

Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can deal with it later.

Trying not to appear too eager, she removed her wet clothes down to her underwear and tossed them on the side of the tub. “Go ahead and shower while I hold you.”

Blake’s proximity was already wreaking havoc, and she hadn’t even touched him yet. She tried to maintain her distance as she placed her trembling hand against his back for support while trying to keep her foot from getting wet.

She watched Blake plant both palms on the tiled wall while water trickled down his muscular body. She had no idea when or how it had happened, but she realized she felt more alive when she was with Blake. And she wanted him, to be
with
him.

Holy hell, I’m falling for him!

It was clear that the man she had known all along was buried in the façade he’d built around himself.

As the soothing water cascaded down her body, Jennifer began to relax. The steam swirling around them added a subliminal eroticism she could no longer deny.

Blake turned around all of a sudden. “Gonna soap ya.”

She wanted to ignore his effect on her, to refute her feelings for him, but it was turning out to be an impossible task. Blake began lathering her body, starting with her chest.

She closed her eyes and took pleasure in the feeling of his hands on her skin. If he had intended to avoid her sensitive areas, he wasn’t succeeding. His rough hands brushed the tip of her nipple, making her shiver. Feeling alive for the first time in a long time, her eyes fluttered open and reality began to seep in.

“I—I think you’re good to do this on your own.” She tried to move away from him.

Blake held her arm, refusing to let her get away, drawing her closer to him as the warm water continued its invigorating caress on her skin. “You no like it?”

She watched his muscles ripple with every movement. Just when she thought that she was satisfied with being alone, Blake had come along. It had been so long since she had last felt lust, to want someone. His touch had the desired effect and it took a tremendous amount of restraint not to touch him back.

Jennifer gasped when his erection rubbed against her thigh.

Blake dropped the soap and tilted her chin up to him. “ ’M gonna kiss you now.” He swayed and braced his hand on the wall to steady himself.

Instead of taking the sane route and running away, Jennifer closed her eyes and waited.

Blake’s lips descended on hers for a rough kiss.

Her response was fervent despite the nagging thought that he wouldn’t remember any of this the next day. Jennifer arched her back, letting her breasts rest against his wet skin. He pressed closer, and all she could think of was his shaft rubbing the region where she wanted to feel him the most. She had the audacity to imagine Blake kissing the insides of her thighs, licking her before finding her sex.

He squeezed her butt cheeks. “Touch me,” he whispered against her mouth.

She shook her head, not breaking their kiss, but her hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it slipped down to grip his erection. To make matters worse, her body undulated, and her legs spread apart as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Blake broke away from their kiss and grunted.

The sound made her blood pump, waking her desire even more. With deliberate motion, she let her palm glide back and forth, and he groaned.

Blake lifted her by the waist and pressed his forehead to hers.

She hitched and locked her legs around his hips.

“Takin’ the woman now.”

The right thing to do was to say no, to announce that it wasn’t the right time, but she couldn’t push him away. She didn’t want to.

“Take me here, right now.” Jennifer’s response startled her, but her need for him went beyond the need to possess his body. It went deeper.

She grabbed a handful of his hair, and they kissed with unmistakable hunger and devoid of patience.

Blake responded by bracing her back on the tiled wall and lowered her entrance to his erection.

They groaned in unison as he filled her.

He shifted into a more comfortable position and let her slide down to his thighs.

In her lust-filled logic, she remembered his injury. “Blake . . . your legs.”

“Hush.” He increased the pressure.

Jennifer’s moan rose to a crescendo as Blake pumped harder.

He suckled her breasts.

Nothing made sense, and she didn’t care. All she could think about was the delicious friction of his shaft rubbing against her skin and her walls constricting into a tight knot around him. She was hot and perilously close to the edge.

Blake made grunting sounds while guiding her body in a rhythmic, pounding motion, and a moment later, he seized her mouth and jerked his release. He thrust even harder when her orgasm exploded and kept pumping until she could barely breathe in ecstatic bliss.

After usurping their last energies in savoring the magical connection, Blake rested his head at the hollow of her neck, his taut body relaxing. “Hot damn,” he mumbled.

You can say that again.

Jennifer didn’t trust herself to say anything.

Their bodies remained clasped for some time before he hoisted her back onto her feet.

After she wrapped her still trembling body with a towel, Jennifer helped Blake out of the shower and into clean clothes before leading him to bed.

She got dressed and climbed in next to him, too exhausted to think. A wave of guilt was beginning to gnaw at her by the time she fell into a troubled sleep.

Chapter 14

Blake twitched awake from an unsettling sleep sometime in the early morning, unsure of what had happened after he’d had enough vodka to keep him floored for a lifetime. He blinked and tried to gather his bearings. Feeling bile swirling, he swallowed hard and tried to recall the events from the night before. He distinctly remembered refusing to answer Sam’s questions, at least until he’d started drinking.

His buddy might as well think that he’d lost a grip on reality. He, the indifferent man who had stopped caring, often hid inside his cave, kept everyone at arm’s length, and worried about nothing, had blurted his concerns about Jennifer like a blabbering idiot.

He sighed and turned to check on the time, but his arm was trapped under something . . . or someone.

He moved his free hand down, hoping. Relief washed over him when he found himself clothed.

He heard a decidedly feminine sigh from the pillow beside him and froze.

In his inebriated stupor, he must’ve picked up a woman and taken her home. He wasn’t one who’d go for paid sex but his needs had likely taken over. If he had done the unthinkable, and the satisfied feeling in his gut told him he had, he prayed the woman next to him would leave as soon as she woke up. His fragile ego couldn’t handle the pity-filled look he was sure would be on her face after seeing him without his layers of clothing.

Blake inched to the side to get a good look at the sleeping soul next to him. The pale early morning light lit the room just enough to make out the tiny form on her back and facing the wall. He trailed his hand down the woman’s body to find her wearing a tank top and bikini. He traced a finger on her arm, loving her soft and smooth skin. Curiosity got the best of him and he reached for her chin and turned her to face him. Blake squinted and made out the contour of the woman’s face. After so many years staring at her picture and watching from a distance, he had every line memorized, and his spirit deflated.

Fuck! What have I done?

Bits and pieces of the night before began to surface—the shower, her glorious body, and the inevitable outcome.

He closed his eye and tried to quell the panic building at a rapid speed. Self-loathing was a dangerous thing, and he was on the verge of drowning in it.

He ran his fingers over the fine strands of her hair. The beautiful honey-colored tresses that he had longed to touch were right at his fingertips. He imagined her kind, hazel eyes that offered more than compassion, but a refuge and a chance to forget his misgivings.

Blake wished that Jennifer was with him for a different reason, but they were victims of circumstance and the memory of a man they both loved. If he had forced himself on her, he would never forgive himself.

Instead of pushing her away like he knew he should out of sheer self-preservation, he cradled her closer to his heart.

Love, lust, unimaginable want, all topped off with alcohol, and the effect had proven disastrous. And as if the guilt wasn’t enough, a nasty wave of paranoia hit him as he realized this meant Jennifer had seen his misshapen body. He might have gotten his way with her by feigning weakness and appealing to her kindhearted nature, but this was wrong.

What else can it be?

You can admit to yourself that you’re falling for her and this was the only chance you can have her.

No, damn it!

A glutton for punishment, he pressed his mouth to her glorious mane, and inhaled. Her sweet vanilla scent seduced him.

I’ll take whatever I can get
.

He was determined to hold on to this false sense of security for the duration of the night because, in the morning, it had to be business as usual between them. He’d set it straight with Jennifer and apologize.

Jennifer burrowed deeper against him and her leg tangled with his.

Why did Trent have to die?

He’d had so much to offer Jennifer. A life of love, a home filled with laughter, and a long time together ahead of them.

It should have been him in Afghanistan.

Me, not Trent.

Then, with vivid clarity, he recalled the day he thought his friend was going out of his mind.

November 18, 2001

“I can’t marry Jennifer,” Trent said one afternoon during patrol break.

Standing on the dusty roadside on the outskirts of Kabul, Blake stared at his friend. “What the hell are you talking about? The frigid wind’s done damage to your brain, dude.”

Trent avoided Blake’s gaze and pretended to watch the children playing in the street. “I’m not kidding. I can’t marry Jennifer. I won’t.”

“What’s the deal, T?”

Trent inhaled and exhaled a long, drawn out sigh. “I can’t father a child.”

Blake must have zoned out while staring at Trent, because his friend was calling his name when he snapped back into the present. “Does she know?” he asked.

Trent dismissed his inquiry with a wave of his hand. “No . . . let’s leave it at that.”

“So you just decided you’re not going to marry her?” His voice rose. “Like she means nothing?”

“I don’t want to hurt her in the long run. She told me after I proposed that she wanted children. She’d be miserable.” Trent glared at the abandoned building before them.