your batman boxers. Sorry. In my defense, you really deserved it.” Tara blinked at the computer, wondering why Michael looked so fuzzy. Her jaw cracked in a yawn, and she rubbed her eyes in an attempt to stay awake.
“I’m really sorry about those, and I promise we’ll talk about them later, but right now, I have to go to bed. I had too much to drink, and I need to go to sleep.” Tara yawned again, but it was interrupted by another hiccup.
“All right. But we are going to talk about that. And about everything else. Don’t think you can get away with telling me some of this just because you were drinking tonight.”
“Okey-dokey. Night Michael.”
“Night Tara.”
* * * *
Mike waited for Tara to end the session and closed his laptop. He slid the rolling table to the side and lowered the head of his bed so that he was lying down.
She was going to give him a chance.
Mike hadn’t even realized how badly he wanted it until she’d dangled it in front of him like steak to a starving man. He settled in the bed and linked his hands behind his head, joy filling his body. He was going to get another chance—maybe—and that was worth making it through another day.
He blinked sleepily and smiled as he drifted off to sleep. For the first night in a long time, he didn’t dream about the IED. Instead, he dreamed about Tara and the first time they’d made love. It felt real, every touch and kiss tingling. Her scent, taste, and the feel of her surrounding him were exactly as he remembered but more potent since he was experiencing them again.
Mike woke up just before he came, hard as a rock and shuddering with desire. Jesus, that had been hot. He remembered that night all too well. He’d taken Tara to dinner and for a walk on the beach and then back to his barracks room. It had been the first time they’d made love, and the first time Mike had realized he was falling in love with Tara. They’d spent the entire night in their own world, too wrapped up in each other to even consider the fact that Mike’s neighbors probably couldn’t sleep over all the noise. He glanced down at himself. The blankets were tented over his erection.
Not gonna be able to sleep with that.
Reaching under the sheets, he let his mind wander back to the memory, picking up where the dream had left off.
* * * *
Chris watched Callie and Rebecca stumble from a cab and fling a handful of cash through the window. He shook his head in pity for the driver. Callie and Rebecca were oblivious, their arms around each other for support. Their laughter was loud and so happy that Chris struggled to maintain his stern visage.
The two women blended their voices in a classic drinking song as they walked toward the door. “How dry I am! Hiccup!” They sang the same line repeatedly, faking their hiccups until Rebecca stopped and slurred, “Hey, that’s the only line I know.”
Callie actually hiccupped and looked around thoughtfully. “What about this one?” She grinned and her entire face lit up.
“You take the high road—” Rebecca joined Callie’s raucous singing at this point, “—and I’ll take the low road, and I’ll get to Scotland afore ye…”
Their fake Scottish accents made Chris cringe; as they approached the door, he swung it wide to allow Callie to enter. Callie placed a wet kiss in the center of his chest as she walked by and then continued inside, dragging her hand along the wall for balance. He watched her until she collapsed on the sofa and turned to Rebecca.
“I’ll walk you to your door, drunkard.”
“Hey!” Rebecca punched him playfully on the arm. “I am not a drunkard.” She frowned and leaned against him. Chris took her arm as they walked across the lawn, trying to keep her upright. “Well, maybe I am tonight.”
Chris rolled his eyes and steadied Rebecca as she dug through her purse for keys. “Need some help there, Red?”
Rebecca made a face as she pulled her keys out. “Ugh, don’t call me
“I’m really sorry about those, and I promise we’ll talk about them later, but right now, I have to go to bed. I had too much to drink, and I need to go to sleep.” Tara yawned again, but it was interrupted by another hiccup.
“All right. But we are going to talk about that. And about everything else. Don’t think you can get away with telling me some of this just because you were drinking tonight.”
“Okey-dokey. Night Michael.”
“Night Tara.”
* * * *
Mike waited for Tara to end the session and closed his laptop. He slid the rolling table to the side and lowered the head of his bed so that he was lying down.
She was going to give him a chance.
Mike hadn’t even realized how badly he wanted it until she’d dangled it in front of him like steak to a starving man. He settled in the bed and linked his hands behind his head, joy filling his body. He was going to get another chance—maybe—and that was worth making it through another day.
He blinked sleepily and smiled as he drifted off to sleep. For the first night in a long time, he didn’t dream about the IED. Instead, he dreamed about Tara and the first time they’d made love. It felt real, every touch and kiss tingling. Her scent, taste, and the feel of her surrounding him were exactly as he remembered but more potent since he was experiencing them again.
Mike woke up just before he came, hard as a rock and shuddering with desire. Jesus, that had been hot. He remembered that night all too well. He’d taken Tara to dinner and for a walk on the beach and then back to his barracks room. It had been the first time they’d made love, and the first time Mike had realized he was falling in love with Tara. They’d spent the entire night in their own world, too wrapped up in each other to even consider the fact that Mike’s neighbors probably couldn’t sleep over all the noise. He glanced down at himself. The blankets were tented over his erection.
Not gonna be able to sleep with that.
Reaching under the sheets, he let his mind wander back to the memory, picking up where the dream had left off.
* * * *
Chris watched Callie and Rebecca stumble from a cab and fling a handful of cash through the window. He shook his head in pity for the driver. Callie and Rebecca were oblivious, their arms around each other for support. Their laughter was loud and so happy that Chris struggled to maintain his stern visage.
The two women blended their voices in a classic drinking song as they walked toward the door. “How dry I am! Hiccup!” They sang the same line repeatedly, faking their hiccups until Rebecca stopped and slurred, “Hey, that’s the only line I know.”
Callie actually hiccupped and looked around thoughtfully. “What about this one?” She grinned and her entire face lit up.
“You take the high road—” Rebecca joined Callie’s raucous singing at this point, “—and I’ll take the low road, and I’ll get to Scotland afore ye…”
Their fake Scottish accents made Chris cringe; as they approached the door, he swung it wide to allow Callie to enter. Callie placed a wet kiss in the center of his chest as she walked by and then continued inside, dragging her hand along the wall for balance. He watched her until she collapsed on the sofa and turned to Rebecca.
“I’ll walk you to your door, drunkard.”
“Hey!” Rebecca punched him playfully on the arm. “I am not a drunkard.” She frowned and leaned against him. Chris took her arm as they walked across the lawn, trying to keep her upright. “Well, maybe I am tonight.”
Chris rolled his eyes and steadied Rebecca as she dug through her purse for keys. “Need some help there, Red?”
Rebecca made a face as she pulled her keys out. “Ugh, don’t call me