Page 7 of Gatling
Chapter three
Gatling
I remained wide awake all night long.
My relationship with sleep was a sketchy one at best already. When my PTSD flared up, insomnia usually wasn’t too far behind. Once my nervous system kicks into fight mode, it’s damn near impossible to get a decent amount of rest.
But a flashback wasn’t the culprit for my lack of sleep this time.
Knowing Kelsie was nestled in a cloud of sheets, just on the other side of her bedroom door, filled my head with a slew of unholy thoughts. I pictured her soft curves in a tiny pair of panties and an oversized shirt. No bra to restrain her plump tits, pebbled nipples practically begging to be sucked until she woke up with a gasp.
My cock twitched. I stifled a groan, slouching deeper into the couch. If I continued to torture myself like this, I would be rock hard with no ability to do anything about it. I couldn’t exactly rub one out in the apartment of my best friend’s little sister.
Fuck, I needed to focus. Stay alert. Stay sharp.
This bastard stalking Kelsie might be harmless. Some nerdy little pervert with a crush who didn’t have the guts to speak to her properly.
Or he might be a psycho who was just beginning to ramp up.
Either way, it made me sick to my stomach that she had a target on her back.
In the dim glow of the street lamp spilling through the window, I surveyed Kelsie’s apartment. The geraniums on the kitchen counter, with a blushing pop of color. The strawberry-shaped throw pillows on the couch. The lemon-yellow rug spread across the floor.
Everything about Kelsie was bursting with joy and light. I hated to think this stalker had poisoned her with fear.
By the time Kelsie’s alarm went off, the kitchen was flooded with golden morning sunlight. She shuffled out of the bedroom with a yawn, tying a silky turquoise bathrobe around her waist. Her honey brown hair was tied up in a messy bun, and there were sleep lines from the sheets marking the left side of her face.
All I wanted to do was stare, soaking up every inch of her. Unguarded, rumpled, and perfect.
Then I wrenched my gaze away, fighting the lump in my throat and the fucking relentless ache in my cock. It didn’t help that her robe only came to mid-thigh, exposing her bare legs.
I would gladly sell my rotten soul for one chance to have those thick thighs wrapped around my head…
“Good morning,” Kelsie chirped on her way into the kitchen. She noticed the stack of bedding on the couch next to me, untouched. “Let me take a wild guess. You didn’t get a wink of sleep.”
“I wasn’t tired,” I replied.
She aimed a look in my direction that clearly conveyed she didn’t believe me.
“Noah doesn’t sleep much either. Nightmares keep him awake sometimes.”
Nope. We were not having this conversation.
As well-meaning as her concern was, I couldn’t let her into that part of my life. The memories, the flashbacks…that was my burden to bear and I would never stain her with it. Hell, I didn’t even talk to Noah about it, and he’d been there with me amid the bombs and bullets.
“I’m fine, Kelsie,” I said, rising to my feet.
She paused in her fiddling with the coffee maker. A little wrinkle formed between her eyebrows as she studied me for a moment.
Please don’t push it,I thought.Just let it go.
At last, Kelsie grabbed a loaf of bread off the counter and handed it to me.
“Then get to work, soldier. Make some toast.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure that’s a risk you’re willing to take? Giving me access to your kitchen?”
