Lori looped her arms around his neck, her back arching into him. His forehead falling to hers, he stared in her eyes and thrust inside her. He filled her body as he had filled her heart. Totally. Fully.
She moved with him endlessly until her body throbbed, vibrated with release, and all the while she wondered if she could ever fill his life as completely.
Chapter 16
"When do you leave for Washington?" Lori snuggled against Gray's bare side and avoided looking into his eyes. Which scared her more? What she might see in his, or what he might find in hers?
He worked the twines of her braid free, one plait at a time. "I've delayed as long as I can. I have to report by Monday. Without fail."
She stifled the disappointment. For a crazy moment at the door, she hadn't been able to squelch a thought that he meant to stay. Of course, that wasn't possible. Not showing up for work could land him in jail for being AWOL.
Lori stroked her foot along his calf, both of them smooth and slicked from their body massage. Then her foot rasped over his healing shrapnel wounds.
Oh, God. How was she going to let him go?
Loving Gray was different this time, because she knew him better. How would she ever get over him? She'd barely survived last time.
Part of her wondered what would happen if she stuck it out, worked a little harder. Maybe she could endure past his hang-ups on family. After all, she'd studied about families dealing with post-traumatic stress syndrome.
Lori forced herself to stop. She wanted to be his wife, not his counselor.
She didn't regret stealing these last moments for herself, but she couldn't allow herself to weaken. She wanted a life with children and roots, a family who wasn't afraid to share their feelings and lavish love on one another.
Gray spread her hair like a blanket over her breasts. "Come with me to Washington."
He'd said it so offhandedly Lori thought she must have misheard. "What?"
He propped on one elbow, the lemon-yellow comforter pooling around his waist, and looked straight into her eyes this time. "Pack up. Move in with me in Washington."
Did this man live to confuse her? "Are you trying to send me running for the door like last time? Because if you don't want to have sex again, you can just say so. No need to go to such extremes to make me boot you out of my bed."
"No!" His arms locked around her as if she might run anyway. "I—" he swallowed heavily "—I want you to move in with me. I found this great house with a sunroom and a big yard. Lori, the past two weeks without you have been hell. It's time we both quit fighting it and give in."
Not exactly the most romantic declaration she'd ever heard, but he seemed to mean it. She considered it. How could she not? Then she looked deeper into his eyes.
He regarded her so warily, she couldn't tell which he feared more, her saying yes or no.
Why couldn't he have asked with his clothes on, damn him? She held strong all the same, and for good measure kept her eyes firmly planted on his face. "I have a job here. I'm building ties, putting down roots."
"Come anyway."
If he didn't understand she couldn't spend the rest of her life constantly on the move, he would never be able to give her what she needed. She wanted to build a stable home for herself, for her children, for the daughter she already had.>"I thought you'd left."
"They have phones in Washington."
"Yes, they do, and you could have picked up one of those phones anytime—" Her temper disintegrated. "You're not in Washington."
"No." He stepped toward her. Closer. "I'm not."
No. He wasn't. He was standing right in front of her, tall and real after she had missed him two years' worth in those two weeks. "Why?"
"House hunting can wait. You know how I feel about shopping, anyway." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "And I needed to know, so I flew back."
Lori clenched her fists by her sides, determined not to let her hands fall on his chest. Even in civilian clothes, he turned her heart to mush. The khakis and green polo couldn't disguise his military bearing. More than the haircut, his walk, very stance, proclaimed his warrior spirit, and he could too easily mesmerize her.
She tore her gaze away and scooped toys off the floor with a frantic pace—Barbies, coloring books, a bucket of crayons all landed in a wicker basket.
"Where's Magda?" He followed her restless path.