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She hugged him closer, not knowing how else to comfort him. After a moment he relaxed completely, and his breathing settled.

“Thanks for helping me sleep,” he said. “

You should probably go up to bed. The sex sounds have finally stopped.”

“I like being here with you.” She probably shouldn’t have admitted that, but it was true. She hadn’t felt like a worthwhile human being in months, and maybe she was fooling herself by thinking she was any help to Chad, but holding him helped her too. It made her feel strong. Maybe instead of seeking help for herself, she’d could cope with her own problems by focusing on someone else’s hardship.

“You need your rest,” he said.

“So do you.”

He released a breathless laugh. “Has anyone ever accused you of being stubborn?”

She grinned. Just everyone who knew her well. “A few people.”

“If I let you tuck me in, will you go up to bed?”

“But what if you have nightmares again? I can’t wake you up if I’m upstairs.”

“If I let you sleep beside me, will that satisfy you?” he asked.

Satisfy her? Not exactly, but it might keep her from worrying over him. “Is there even enough space in your bed for two?”

“If we cuddle.”

Cuddling sounded nice. The stuff that often came before a man and a woman cuddled in bed sounded even nicer, but she wouldn’t bring those needs up with Chad. Any respect he claimed to have for her would vaporize the instant she told him she wanted him. Being close to him would have to be enough.

“I’ll meet you in there,” she said. “I have to go to the bathroom again.” A constant need in her condition.

“Good thing my brother widened that doorframe for you.”

She poked him. “Is that a fat joke?”

“This baby does take up most of your lap.”

“And you’re taking up the rest of it.”

“I should probably watch what I say, or I’ll be taking up the floor instead.”

But she liked that he teased her. Until now, she hadn’t had anyone to share her joys and discomforts with. To feel comfortable enough with her “fragile condition” to joke about it.

“Go climb in bed,” she said, pushing him to sit up beside her. She stood on wobbly legs—they’d gone to sleep without her realizing it—and hobbled her way to the bathroom, leaving Chad to navigate his wheelchair on his own. She hoped he didn’t have to wait much longer to get a prosthetic leg. She was certain he’d prefer the freedom the device would offer. She could tell he was already frustrated with the chair.

After using the bathroom and washing her hands, she felt more than a little self-conscious climbing into bed with him. He’d scooted his back up against the wall, his injured arm resting on his exposed side, his other arm stretched in front of him looking like a welcoming pillow for her.

“Not sure I remember how to do this,” he said.

“Me neither.”

She sat on the bed beside him and turned off the lamp before lying down. She tried leaving a few inches of space between them, but he was all in on the cuddling idea. He felt so solid behind her, so warm and so strong. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone.

Chapter Eight

Chad was trapped. Not in the horrible way that plagued his nightmares. His shattered leg wasn’t caught under a Humvee while Emerson bled to death just out of his reach. Jawa wasn’t a dead weight across his chest. No, this morning he was stuck between a solid wall and a sweet, soft ass, which wouldn’t have been at all bad if he hadn’t been suffering with the most crippling erection of his life.

“Uh, Lindsey?” he said, giving her arm a shake.

She moaned softly and wriggled her hips, settling her delicious backside more securely against his predicament.

God, she smelled good—reminded him of sweet peaches. She felt good too. Warmed his blood. Made him feel alive. And hungry. And sad. She’d never be his. He had nothing to offer her.

“Lindsey?”

“Chad,” she said softly.

The way she murmured his name made his balls ache.

“Lindsey, please.”

“What is . . . ?” She reached behind her, sliding her hand down his hip toward the object poking her in the ass.

Chad’s belly tightened in anticipation, but just before she touched him, she sat up abruptly.

“Oh! God, what did I do?”

He’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. The early morning sunshine streamed through the window and highlighted her golden hair. She was all sleep-tousled and rosy-skinned, her blue eyes wide and kissable lips parted. Jesus, was she trying to kill him?

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I was dreaming about you. I didn’t realize I was touching you for real.” She glanced down at his crotch, flushed, and glanced away.

She’d been dreaming about touching him?

“I’ve been so horny lately. I guess it’s the pregnancy.” She laughed softly. “That, or the complete lack of a sex life. Can you forgive me for molesting you in your sleep?”

He sat up beside her and brushed her hair behind her ear. The strands felt like silk against his fingertips.

“I’ve been horny lately too. For the same reason.”

“You’re pregnant?”

She laid a hand on his belly, and his cock jerked in excitement.

“What’s your secret for retaining your trim figure?”

She lifted her head, and their eyes met. The teasing grin faded from her lush lips. He leaned in, his hunger for her driving him to boldness. He expected her to pull away, to push him aside, to laugh in his face for thinking he stood a chance with a beauty like her, but she leaned in as well. He meant for the kiss to be soft and gentle, but the instant his lips brushed hers, the heat between them ignited into an inferno. Her mouth opened to his tongue. He licked her lips and then nibbled them before running his tongue over them again.

She pulled away, her eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to apologize for taking advantage of the situation, but she blurted, “My God, you’re a good kisser.” And then she came back for another taste.

He could have kissed her all morning—maybe for the rest of his life—and he’d have been satisfied, but her hand slid down his belly and into his sleep shorts.

“If you don’t want me to,” she said against his mouth, “tell me to stop.”

He wasn’t sure exactly how far she planned to go or what she was going to do, but he’d take anything she was willing to offer. “I want you to.”

When her small hand circled his cock, his breath came out in an excited huff. She stroked his length slowly and gently, her thumb doing things to his cockhead that made him forget how to kiss her properly. He just held his mouth against hers and drew shaky breaths into his lungs. He wanted to touch her back, peel her nightgown from her body and bask in the beauty of her naked body. He wanted to roll her onto the bed beneath him and claim her with deep thrusts as she called his name, but he wasn’t sure she’d want him to do any of those things. Had he been his whole self, he wouldn’t have hesitated. His confidence would have surged at her touch rather than withering. But he wasn’t his whole self. He was less.

“Is this okay?” she asked, still stroking him gently.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Do you want more?”

It was shameful that she had to ask. Of course, he wanted more. Why couldn’t he make a move on her? “Yes.”

“I like it on top,” she whispered in his ear.

When she meant more, she really meant more, and all he could do was nod and settle onto his back as she stood and pulled her nightgown off over her head and slid her panties down her legs. He hadn’t been truly prepared for how exquisite her nude body would be. Unable to take his eyes off her, he worked at removing his shorts with his good hand, but was even worthless at that simple task. She leaned over to assist him, and he was very aware of her hand sliding down his right thigh toward his bandaged stump. When her fingers brushed the top edge of the bandage, he jerked as if she’d stabbed him.

She drew her hand back, and her gaze moved to the injury. “I’m sorry.

Did I hurt you?”

“No, I . . . just . . .” Don’t look at it. “Hurry, angel. I need you to hurry.”

“Maybe it’s too soon for this. You need more time to heal.”

“My dick was one part of me that escaped all injury.” Lucky him.

He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, glad when she turned her attention to his face again. He knew that with all the scratches, fading bruises, and forming scars, his face didn’t look much better than the goddamned stump. “I need you. Not time to heal or you worrying about me. You. That’s all I need. You, angel.”

She placed a knee on the bed next to his hip and straddled his lap. He shrugged the sling aside, his shoulder protesting only slightly as he rested his hands on her thighs. His breath stalled in the back of his throat as she used her hand to guide his flesh to join with hers. He sucked more air into his already full and aching lungs, lashes fluttering as she surrounded him in rapture.

A moan escaped her as she sank down on him. “God, you feel good,” she said breathlessly. “I need this so bad.”

This, she’d said. Not him. Any cock could have satisfied her needs, while only she could satisfy his. It would have to be enough for now.

Chad arched into her and gave her another inch.

She licked her lips and took his hands in hers, guiding them from her thighs to her chest.

“My breasts have changed so much,” she said, “I’ve wondered if . . .”

His thumbs rubbed over the darkened tips, and they hardened instantly. Her breasts were heavy and round in his palms as she released his hands to explore his chest and shoulders.

“You’re so gorgeous,” she said, lifting her hips, her pussy drawing pleasure up his length as she shifted.

“You’re an angel,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her as the morning light filtered in through the window above them and lit her golden hair in otherworldly beauty.

“An angel?” She chuckled, her fingertips bumping over the muscles of his chest. “A naughty one maybe.”

“That’s the best kind.”

He’d been right. She was all he needed at that moment. What came next didn’t matter. This moment. Now. He could live for now without the past rushing up to smash him down or worries of the future crushing him further. Lindsey was his now.


Tags: Olivia Cunning One Night with Sole Regret Erotic