Chapter 7

Max

I should’ve already left her bed to go to my own, but I couldn’t. First it was because she’d dozed off pretty quickly against me and I wasn’t ready to let go of all that womanly flesh smashed against my body, but then her hand started a slow, hypnotic caress on my stomach that lead to a second round of fucking. Then we’d both collapsed in exhaustion and bone deep satisfaction and I’d been about to screw up my courage to leave while she slept with her back to me. But I looked over at miles of bare creamy flesh and my cock said we were staying.

But now Jana was out for the count and I was feeling damned uncomfortable. She’d been a fucking virgin hours ago, untouched by any man and like a fucking animal, I’d taken her again and again, with no regard for her own comfort. Not that she complained, but she was pumped full of fucking endorphins and that oxy-shit that made everything feel like unicorn dust. I should’ve said no. Just like I should be putting on my clothes and going the fuck home. I couldn’t sleep here with her, not when I couldn’t be sure how I might wake up.

The dreams still came every night. Some nights I could get back to sleep and some I remained sleepless, but the time I’d woken up and pointed a gun at one of the Bitches I’d taken to bed, I knew I couldn’t risk hurting someone else. So I never stayed the night.

Until tonight.

I was a greedy bastard when it came to Jana, taking her over and over again, and even now I wasn’t fucking sorry. Being inside her was ten fucking types of heaven and I couldn’t get enough. She was excited and hot, eager to please and so damn responsive it was all I could do not to push her limits just to see her respond.

Somewhere in between thinking of Jana’s soft curves and going home, I must have dozed off because I was back in that fucking desert. Only this time the truck had already been hit and I was on the ground, trying to orient myself through the fucking smoke and flames. Shots fired in the distance and I looked to my left and my right, seeing a few of my fellow SEALs laid out, bleeding and shouting in pain but still firing their goddamn weapons. Finger on the trigger, I aimed through the smoke and squeezed that motherfucker, spraying the area.

It was too chaotic and my ears still rung and I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me, but still I kept shooting until I heard that fucking click. Out of ammo. Scrambling on my hands and knees, my ass and elbows, I crawled to part of a body, Garcia, and grabbed both of his weapons and kept firing.

“It’s okay Max, shhhh.”

I blinked and looked around the desert to see who that sweet, soothing voice belonged to. But I couldn’t see shit except a pair of black sandaled feet coming my way and I kept shooting.

“Max, it’s all right. You’re okay.”

The images in the desert slowly faded and the voice became clearer. Louder. Jana. My eyes popped wide open and landed on the ceiling but warm, soft woman was pressed into my side as a delicate hand caressed my head.

“You’re dreaming,” she whispered softly, oblivious to the way her tits pressed against my shoulder.

I froze and looked over at her before I sat up. Fast. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She winced like I smacked her, using her arms to back away to the other side of the bed. Like she was scared of me. “You were having a bad dream or a flashback or something, I was trying to pull you from it gently.”

“Well I don’t need a fucking mother, Jana.” The words spat out of me like venom and her big brown eyes were shocked at first, but that quickly turned to hurt and anger.

She gasped at my tone but quickly schooled her expression. “Right. Sorry.” Slowly she set her feet on the floor and stood, walking silently to the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

Fuck. I was such an asshole. I sat there on the corner of the bed and stared at the wood grain and the deep green area rug under the bed. I shouldn’t have lashed out at her the way I did, but dammit she shouldn’t have tried to help. She should’ve worried about her safety. I don’t know how long I sat there, but finally she walked out of the bathroom wearing a big thick robe that made her look smaller. More vulnerable. Her blond hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head, leaving her scar looking red and harsh and angry. On full display.

I knew what she was doing, and I should let her. But I didn’t. I reached out for her but she stepped away from my touch. “Thank you for last night, Max. It was perfect.” Her mouth smiled but her eyes looked exhausted and filled with anguish.

“I’m sorry, Jana.”

She shook her head at me, her smile much too bright as she fought to hold on to the tears I saw welling in her eyes. “Don’t be. I knew what this was. And what it wasn’t.” She turned and walked out the door before I could say anything, so I followed her lead.

I got dressed quickly and left without saying goodbye.

It was the least I could do for her.

***

“What the hell do you mean, ‘it isn’t that bad’? Were you listening?” I called Dr. Singh early Monday morning to see about switching my appointment this week because I spent the rest of the weekend alternating between guilt and drunken rage over how things went down with Jana. He could fit me in on Tuesday, one damn day early.

“I was listening but maybe you are in no position to see things the way I do.” I appreciated his attempts at diplomacy, but I wasn’t in the mood to be nice. “Yes you still had the dream, but she pulled you out before things got bad.” He glanced down at his notes and I knew what he would say. “You said you don’t remember anything after the pair of booted feet and you usually wake up with an elevated heart and blood pressure rate, cold sweats and panic attacks, right?”

I nodded.

“That is progress. And she is right, pulling you from that memory gently is less traumatic for the dreamer.” He gave me a pointed look that only amplified my guilt. “Your friend is very smart.”

"Who made her a fucking expert, anyway?” I knew I was well into bratty fucking kid status but I didn’t give a damn.

Dr. Singh nodded and crossed his legs, setting aside his ever present notepad. “Military servicemembers are not the only ones susceptible to post traumatic stress, Max.”

I sat back and sighed, raking both hands through my hair. “Shit, Doc. I thought I wouldn’t be able to feel any fucking worse. I was wrong.” Naturally she knew what worked, she’d been dealing with her own trauma since she was sixteen years old. “I am such an asshole.”

The good doctor looked amused. “Being an asshole can be fixed easily Max. It is called romance. What I’d like to discuss for the remainder of our time today is why you reacted the way you did.”

“Shit, Doc, I already told you. I can’t risk hurting someone because of my fucking dreams. My brain. That is not okay.”

“But you didn’t hurt her. Not physically anyway.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Avoiding an outcome isn’t dealing with the issue Max. Maybe it’s a good thing that you have a new lady friend right when you need one.” A soft chime sounded and I shot up out of my seat like it was on fire.

Dr. Singh stood slower and extended a hand to me. “See you next week Max. Sooner if you need me.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“Remember, romance,” he said to my back as I walked out of his office and the damn building like the fucking terrorists were after me.

The sun shone bright even through the overcast day but the chill in the air was typical of Spring. I didn’t really give a shit about the weather but that session with Singh hadn’t helped. It made me feel guiltier, like the worst kind of asshole for my reaction.

And worse, I probably behaved the way every man in Jana’s life had.

I was so fucking tired of my own thoughts, I pushed the engine on my bike on the ten minute drive back to Mayhem, so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t see Savior until I damn near ran right into him. “What are you doing here?”

“Do I need a reason to come see you?”

“Cut the shit, Savior. What’s up?” Not that we weren’t friends, we were. Savior was the only guy I really hung out with in the club because I didn’t come to Vegas looking for a connection. I came in search of my brother and found two dozen others instead.

“Fine, I need you to make a run with me to Santa Fe.”

“What the hell is in Santa Fe?”

“Guns. More to the point, we’re delivering a couple crates to a gun shop who made the purchase through a show.”

I blinked as the words seeped in. “I thought we didn’t fuck with guns.”

“We don’t. At least not illegal ones. These are more on the legal side of the gray area and more important, we’re charging a shit ton of cash for them.”

I shrugged because it didn’t matter to me as much as it should. Savior said they weren’t breaking the law and I believed him. “Fine. When do we leave?”

“Today. As soon as you pack a bag. You heard from Golden Boy lately? Cross said he stopped taking calls.”

“My calls and visits too,” I grumbled. The only topic I wanted to discuss less than Jana was Tate. “I don’t know what’s going on with him but as long as he’s not talking to me, I can’t do shit about it.”

“Call his lawyer, find out what’s going on.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” I didn’t have the energy to deal with anything right now. I just wanted to sit in front of my big ass flat screen and drink until I passed out. But it looked like I would spend the next twelve hours on the road.

At least I’d be too focused to think about the curvy blond who wouldn’t let me have one thought that didn’t include her.