Unraveled (Woodlands) (25 page)

Gray

EM
>T
HIS
WAS
ONLY
TEMPORARY
,
EM
I
reminded myself, as Samantha so sweetly kissed me back.
I'm only here for a short time.
But as I felt her tongue stroke the side of my tongue, as she nipped her teeth against my lip, I wanted to just drown in the sensation. Her scent filled my head and the air around us shrank until all I knew was her small body sitting so close to mine. I moved my hand from her shoulder to cup her neck and angled her face for deeper penetration. I licked every inch inside of her mouth until the taste of her was all that I knew on my tongue.

And all that time I stared in to her green eyes and not once did she look like she was anywhere but right here with me. I saw
my
reflection there. Her heartbeat was made wild by
my
kisses. The ring on her finger was gone, and her condo was empty of most everything but yarn. It was a place I felt like I could be comfortable in.

And temporary was the farthest thing from my mind.

When we broke apart, our breath mingled together as we rested our foreheads together. Then I moved her to my side, tucked her under my arm. As we sat there waiting for the rest of the group to arrive, I asked her about safe things because I was feeling more on edge sitting next to her than I ever did right before leaping out of a plane or a helicopter. "Can you make me a hat?”

"Sure, that's not really challenging."

"What else do you make? I admit, despite what I told you the other night, I kind of do associate knitting with old ladies."

"Don't knock the old ladies. They've got skills." She elbowed me in the side. “I make sweaters although those are pretty challenging. My favorite thing is to knit baby stuff. It’s quick and adorable.”

When she tucked her hair behind her ear, I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I'd felt lust before. And desire. But this was something different. I felt hyper aware of every little thing she did. I noticed her fingers sometimes had nicks in them, as if she'd been inattentive too many times while slicing limes at the bar. And that her hair was always falling around her face.

The other night when we went out to eat, she told me she wanted Thai food and then took me to her favorite restaurant. With Carrie I’d run through a list of every restaurant in five-mile diameter and after she’d said she didn’t care where we ate, she’d complain about whatever place we’d ended up at. She couldn’t make a decision whereas Sam was pretty self-sufficient. She bought her own groceries, paid her bills, always had gas in her Rover. It was evident she’d lived on her own for a while. All that was incredibly attractive.

I ran my hand over my growing hair. By the end of my leave I should have a mop. And a beard. And my uniforms would still be pressed and perfect. Like I told Bo and Noah, I didn't have a good set of skills outside of the military. Would I even be good enough for someone like Sam? She came from a pretty nice life. Had her own condo, a nice truck, her mom was a lawyer. I wondered if my ability to iron would render me a good husband.

"Do you think ironing is an essential life skill?"

"Um, I have no idea. I don't think I've ironed one thing in my life." She snorted and held her hand over her mouth to cover the smile. "That's such a random question."

"Will never had you iron his Alphas?"

"His class A uniforms? No way. He said I didn't know how to do it. He was very particular and I wasn’t going to protest. Who likes ironing?"

"It can be a very soothing task,” I declared but smiled at her arched eyebrow. "So I guess the answer is no?"

"I think it's one of the very first things you should put on your boyfriend resume. ‘
I iron.
’ Right after, ‘
I am shit hot in the kitchen
.’ You make a mean omelet."

"What about shit hot in the bedroom?" I asked quietly. Her smile died away, replaced by a long stare. So long and so heated I felt like she'd run her tongue all over me. Good thing I was already sitting down, because otherwise I would’ve dropped on my ass.

"You don't need to put that on your resume. Everything about you telegraphs that."

Talk about dangerous activities. "What exactly?"

A wisp of humor skipped across her face, and I reached out and brushed two fingers there. Maybe to catch the smile. Maybe just to feel her soft lips again.

"You want words?" she said low.

“You know I do.” Her voice was still throaty with the early morning. Or it could have been something more that was making the words thick. I could listen to her all day. She glanced over at the counter attendant, who was busy with her phone. I leaned down so my mouth was close to her ear. "Whisper them to me."

For a moment I thought she'd comply but a noisy crowd entered the small waiting room. It must’ve been the other jumpers. Tension simmered between us.

As we sat through the instructional movie and then the live safety instruction, our legs brushed against each other, taking every chance to touch each other. I took the gear from the instructor and helped strap Sam in it, testing every buckle twice. We were both worked up, although some of it could have been anticipation for the jump. Her color was high, and I knew if I looked in the mirror I'd have that same heated look of lust in my eyes. I might only have a few weeks of leave left, but I wanted to spend a good portion of it with Sam.

Samantha

“I
FORGIVE
YOU
FOR
GETTING
me up so early,” I yelled at Gray. The plane we were on was specially designed for parachuters, Gray had told me. It rose quickly in the air and landed quickly. Every atom in my body felt enervated. I ran through the instructions. Gray and the other instructor would hold me when I jumped and then let go after my chute opened. We’d be the last ones out. Gray thought that was safer because I’d have less chance of getting tangled up in someone else’s lines.

"Ready?" he mouthed. It was too loud for me to hear him with the door open and the jet sounds mixing with the wind. I gave him two thumbs up. He made me run through the motions of pulling the chute. Gray's worry was endearing and I would’ve kissed him if not for all our paraphernalia. Jerry, the instructor, gave me the five-finger countdown. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. They each grabbed an arm and we flew out of the plane. As instructed, I spread out my arms and legs like a bird. Gray still held on to one hand but Jerry had released me, which wasn’t what had been planned but no matter.

I counted off in my head the seconds until I'd pull my chute. The wind picked me up and I felt almost weightless for a moment. All too soon Gray squeezed my hand. He motioned for me to pull my chute cord. Angling my feet downward as I’d been told, I pulled the cord and steeled my body against the jerk I'd feel when the chute would open. He’d told me that it was like someone pulling on my jacket if I was running, abrupt but not painful. Nothing. I pulled again.

Seconds ticked by and I was falling fast. Panicking, I jerked my hand free of his, ignoring his shout, and tugged frantically at my chute cord until I felt a release. But no jerk came. In my hand was just the toggle on the pull cord, which had come off. I turned to show Gray and then the wind took the cord and whipped it away.

The ground was rising fast, almost a blur through the tears that had formed. The tears from the wind, not fear, I told myself. And then, in an instant, I embraced it. So this was it. Perhaps my story
was
one of tragedy. Married young, widowed young, died young. I spread out my limbs again. When I fell and hit the earth, I figured the impact would be instantaneous. Death had to come to all of us.

The wind rushed by me and even with my goggles, I could feel the sting against my eyes. There was peace here.
But Gray
. I’d known him only for a little time. If I’d had one regret, I wished I had kissed him harder, held him longer. The sensation of regret caught me unexpectedly, invading my peace almost as if a physical reaction had occurred. Then I realized it wasn't regret that had hit me—it had been Gray. His body wrapped around mine, his arms coming up from behind me, holding me almost in a loose headlock with one arm. With the other, he must have pulled his chute cord, because it deployed immediately. He pulled his body back with it.

The ground still rose quickly, but he held me fast. The only thing that kept me from becoming part of the dirt was his strong, firm, and steady grip. I hugged his arms to me and wondered why I'd been so ready to give it all up. Sobbing, now with relief, I clung to him as we fell rapidly to earth.

The impact of the ground jolted me hard although I knew Gray had taken the brunt of it, landing on his legs first. He curled me into a ball and we rolled for several feet, tangled in chute cords and nylon until we were completely wrapped up. I ended up with my head tucked into his chest. Our legs were entwined.

His breath was harsh and wracked in my ear.

"Jesus. Jesus. Jesus Christ," he panted.

I said nothing, only clutched him closer to me. As I began to shake uncontrollably in his arms, he whispered consoling words in my ear. “It’s going to be okay. We’re safe now.” But he wasn't immune either. I felt his body shudder against mine and we just clung to each other inside the cocoon of his parachute. His gloved hands smoothed up and down my body comforting both of us at the same time.

When he pushed my goggles off with one hand, I saw that his eyes looked wet. I'm sure mine were too. Pulling me against him, we began ravishing each other. He rolled us over until my body was covered with his. We kissed to make sure each other was alive. We kissed in celebration of our survival. We kissed because deep down, the emotions that we'd been trying to deny were overwhelming us.

He and I both knew that however temporary our relationship had been before, the fall had shaken loose our barriers and we were just raw nerves and emotion. I felt his erection heavy against me. I wrapped my legs around him and we pressed up against each other. We would've ditched our clothes and just fucked each other raw underneath the parachute if Jerry hadn’t arrived and interrupted us.

"Hoolee shit," I heard him exclaim. "You two okay?"

Gray pulled away from me immediately and rested his forehead against mine, trying to gain some composure. The mood changed as I saw his emotions flip from desire to anger. He pulled loose of my embrace and untangled us quickly, although I'm not sure how. I was trussed up in enough strings and fabric to keep me immobilized for at least a month.

"Her goddamn chute didn't open, you motherfucker," Gray roared at Jerry. If it wasn’t for the chute strings surrounding us, Gray would’ve been on him, beating the tar out of him. He began struggling with the harness.

"We check those chutes daily,” Jerry protested.

"If you did, then you'd have seen it was defective, Jerry.” Gray spit out his name like he couldn’t stand the taste of it. Gray sat me up and pulled the chute off of me. I hadn't the first clue what had happened. I only knew that it should’ve released when I pulled on it. “And you shouldn’t have let go of her. This was an accelerated free fall, and we both fucking hold her until the chute deploys.”

He finally got the harness off of himself, and he turned to attack mine. He was spitting mad, but his hands were gentle as he handled me.

"What about the emergency cord?"

"Neither cord opened the chute,” Gray bit out. I wondered if his jaw would crack from the effort of not yelling at Jerry. Gray knew—somehow just knew—that if he yelled right in my face, I’d lose it. I was so close the edge of a breakdown. He pulled both cords and the chute remained stubbornly closed, an innocuous backpack-looking thing. He yanked viciously again and the emergency cord pulled away, frayed at the end. He threw the entire thing at Jerry, who stumbled back at the weight.

"You better get your house in order because the FAA will be there by the end of the day to run an inspection on your entire equipment supply." Gray jabbed his finger at the guy’s chest, his other hand fisted like he wanted to plant it in Jerry’s face. "You're gonna be grounded. You could've fucking killed her."

The adrenaline rush, the fear, the passion had all drained away and I felt weak. "Gray." He was still raging at Jerry. "Gray," I said louder. His head whipped around. His eyes were wide and his nostrils were flaring. I wanted to touch him so I could get him to calm down. Instead I said the words that I knew would penetrate his fear and disgust and anger. "I need you."

Immediately he turned away from Jerry and dropped to his knees. "Baby, I'm here. What can I do?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled my nose against him. "Take me home."

Part of me wanted to rage too but mostly I wanted to go home and lie with Gray in my arms and revel in the fact that I was alive, no matter the faulty equipment. I'd done something very dangerous but I'd survived. I was glad to be alive.

Gray

I
FELT
S
AM
'
S
SLIGHT
BODY
against mine, her utter trust in me and felt a surge of something so strong that I almost fell backward. I firmed up the steel in my spine and picked her up into my arms. While I wanted desperately to beat Jerry bloody and then go inside SkyHopper and ransack the place, I wasn’t going to leave Sam trembling and shocky. “Get me some OJ,” I ordered Jerry. When he just stared at me like a dumb robot, I barked again in my best copy of my gunnery sergeant father. “Get me some goddamned orange juice or I’ll cut off your nuts with your car keys.” He got the message and took off toward the office building. One of the other jumpers came over.

“Need anything?” His hair was military short.

“Yeah, I need someone to file a complaint ASAP while I take care of my girl.” Sam was silent, burrowing her head into my shirt. I wanted to get her home like she’d asked. As I reached the parking lot, I noticed a number of expensive foreign vehicles in the “owner” slots. The guy obviously had money or was wasting it on expensive toys rather than careful maintenance.