She was back in the desert, the other soldiers grouped around her. She moved cautiously forward, looking for cover. Her partner stopped nearby, flashing a smile at her. Blythe recognized him as Alec's battle buddy, Lozario Cruz.
"How's the wife?"
"Good. I just talked to her last night."
"Can't wait to get home, huh?"
"Cut the chatter, girls. This isn't a training exercise."
"Yes, sir," they chorused.
They stopped talking and waited for further instructions. They seemed almost relaxed, as if this weren't a dangerous mission. Blythe waited, wishing Cruz would speak again, but he kept silent.
Their leader motioned them forward and they fanned out, taking their positions. Cruz was a few steps ahead of Alec. He turned to speak and the top of his chest exploded. His body flew several feet, knocked by the impact of the bullet.
"Fall back!" their leader yelled over the earpiece. "Fall back!"
"Sniper in the northwest tower," Alec reported.
"Copy that, Red Ranger. Can you see him?"
"Negative. But Big Blue is down. I can get to him—"
"Negative. Stay put. We're on our way."
More bullets zinged and the downed man took another hit. He bled profusely, his thigh and chest in shreds.
"Blue hasn't got a chance if I don't move now."
"Negative, Red Ranger."
She'd been here before, only this time, the sounds and smells were almost overwhelming. She wanted to go to her friend, but she wasn't allowed. Impulsively, she ran forward, grabbing Cruz and dragging him for cover. He groaned. Blood gushed from his wounds. She knew what to do and worked quickly, doing what she could to save his life. Her hands were sticky with the warm, red blood.
In a panic, she crouched behind the cars, knowing what came next. She was going to see him die again. Ready to scream, she turned and ran, her own body appearing. Her legs moved in slow motion, hampered by something. She felt like she was running through cement. Each step lagged, an unseen force dragging her back to the scene of Alec's death.
"I'm here," she heard faintly. "I'm here, babe. I'm here. You're okay. Don't worry. I've got you, Blythe. I've got you."
Elam's voice carried to her ears, penetrated the panic of her dream, pulling her out of the nightmare before she had to see Alec die again. His voice continued as she fell into a deep, blissfully dreamless, sleep.
Blythe woke the next morning with her head on Elam's chest. Her hand had drifted beneath the covers, embarrassingly caressing him in her sleep. She allowed herself one last stroke, liking what she felt.
"If you want to take him out to play, you're gonna have to wait," Elam mumbled. "Because Mom will kill me. But thank you. That's a hell of a great way to wake up." He chuckled as she punched him in the ribs.
"Thank you. For last night. I heard you."
"Alec again?"
"How did you guess?"
"You were running, afraid. I figured nothing else would make you that scared."
"You brought me out of it. Thank you." She kissed him deeply.
Elam enjoyed her kisses, but could sense his mother in the room. It was horribly disconcerting, and hoped it was a sensation that wouldn't last. He'd never have sex again, if she intended to hang around.
"As much as I'd like to, I promised," he said, taking her arms from around his neck. "You have no idea how difficult this is."
"I've got a pretty good idea," she said, eyeing his ill concealed erection. "Girls get excited too, you know. You just can't see it. This isn't easy for me, either."
"I know. Promise me as soon as we can—"
"Oh, hell, yeah!"
Elam glanced at the clock and got quickly out of bed. "I'm gonna go use the other bathroom so you can get your shower too. It's closer to nine than I realized. I should have set an alarm."
"I don't mind waiting. Go ahead."
"No, it's cool." He went to the other bathroom. The entire apartment was between them, so he could relax a little. Starting the shower, he dropped his clothing and stepped in when it was hot enough.
The water from the shower massage cascaded over him, tickling his skin. It felt deliciously decadent, making him tingle. This was the best opportunity he was likely to get. Feeling like a teenager, touching himself for the first time, he lathered up well. His hands slid and glided over his muscles, dropping down lower until he stroked himself. Working quickly, he relieved his pent up passion. His release made him groan. He tried to muffle it, hoping it wasn't too loud.
Blythe tapped on the door.
Shit!
"You okay in there?"
"Yeah! I hit my elbow on the soap dish." Plausible, he very nearly had.
"I do that a lot."
©2022 Dellani Oakes
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