Soldier's Christmas (Wingmen Warriors 8)
Alicia was all about the unexpected, after all.
She arched against him, her mouth open, hot and needy under his just as he remembered from so many times before with her. The hot pulse of lust surged through him, lust and something else he didn't want in his life anymore. Her tongue met and tangled with his, stroking insistently with a moist heat that warmed him from the inside out. Little whimpers tore from her throat, vibrating against him and assuring him nobody was faking anything at the moment.
Plastering herself to him, Alicia locked her arms around his neck, her body flattened to his until he could almost swear their layers of clothes melted away. He pressed her against the tree, no clue where this was going but unable to scrounge the will to stop after weeks without the feel of her against him.
A fresh gust of wind battered his back, but he barely felt it. Rustling branches overhead sounded too much like rustling sheets for his comfort level.
Splat.
Except sheets didn't dump snow on his head. The cold thud brought a needed splash of reality. His fogged brain cleared enough for him to sense the desperation and frenzy in her.
Josh eased away. "We need to stop and find cover for the night."
Alicia's hold stayed strong. "No. Later," she mumbled, tracing his bottom lip with her tongue. "Soon. Not now."
He backed away from the tree. From her. From the temptation to say screw it all and keep kissing her instead of talking, because he knew well the woman enjoyed the hell out of kissing him. "Come on. We are done with this topic of conversation. And anything else, for that matter. I'm going to find somewhere to camp and you'd damn well better follow."
He swiped aside a branch and forced his feet forward.
"You don't like what I'm thinking about you? Well you did walk, Joshua Rosen." Her accusation full of pain chased him on the wind. "You're walking now."
Huh? He stopped without turning. "Are you saying you didn't want me to move out of the apartment?"
When she didn't answer, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Well?"
Panic flared in her eyes along with poorly shielded hurt. "Um, you know, I think you were right earlier.
This isn't the time to discuss anything important. The one-in-four-decisions-sucking rule, remember?
Besides, the longer we stand around, the longer we're cold."
He started to snap right back, then hesitated. He'd seen his wife face enemy fire without flinching, yet now her voice trembled from fear over...what? Not the cold, but something else that apparently he'd been too wrapped up in his own bruised ego to notice before. If he ever expected to move on with his life, he needed to bank his anger and settle things with her one way or another. He couldn't live in this limbo any longer.
Turning, he planted his boots and stood his ground. "I asked you a question. Were you just pissed and not serious when you told me to get the hell out and don't come back?"
Tears pooled and crystallized in the corners of her eyes. Tears—holy hell—from Alicia?
"I'm sorry, Josh. And I really do mean that. I thought that..." She paused, struggling for words. "That what we had would be enough. That I could get past— That I could be—"
Tipping her face to the sky, she blinked fast.
He stepped closer. "Alicia—"
"Stop." She held up a shaky hand as if to place fresh barriers between them. As if there weren't enough already. "This isn't going to get us anywhere."
"Were you or were you not serious?" "I meant every word." "Do you still mean them?" She hesitated a second too long. "Yes. Of course."
Not buying it. "Maybe we should—"
"No," she insisted, both hands up, palms facing out to stop him this time. "I know you. You resent not being able to decipher something. Figuring me out has become a challenge to you. That's all."
Apparently she understood him pretty well. "I'll admit to that. But it's not the whole picture."
"Regardless, how about I clear up the mystery for you? This isn't something you can fix. The problem is mine and it's not fixable," she insisted with a strength that suddenly seemed brittle.
"Why are you so damned sure? Maybe I might have an answer for you, but we'll never know for sure since you're holding out on me, and I don't mean in bed."
She stilled. "I don't know what you mean."