A special thank you to my partner in crime in this story - will_4_rp. You've been a 'brilliant' partner. :)
Chapter One
Lyla lay in the cool darkness of her bedroom, unable to sleep for the umpteenth time in months. She was tired, but even the comforting weight of her husband's warm arm did little to sooth her frazzled nerves and running mind. Something was... off. Maybe it was her. With a soft sigh she gently wiggled away from Matt's heavy arm and rolled onto her side. Frustration welled up inside her. By all accounts, she should be blissfully happy.
Yesterday had marked her seven years of marriage to her high school sweetheart. They had met after she had transferred her junior year and instantly connected. The rest was history. After two wonderful years of dating, Matt had proposed after graduation and they had taken the leap into married life. While everyone had scoffed that things wouldn't last, they had managed to remain together happily through college, both working to afford their little apartment. No kids busied their lives, both agreeing that, for now, they wanted to be financially secure. So it wasn't the stress of motherhood, she was happily employed, and happy too with Matt's progress as a construction foreman. But in the last few months, Lyla had felt increasingly frustrated and confused. Sex, which had always been better than nice, and sometimes quite brilliant, was now usually passable at best. Not for Matt's lack of trying, which made her feel horrible. How could she enjoy sex, however, with the "dark cloud", as she thought of it, beginning to gather around them.
Matt's dizzying rise at work had occurred alongside a tide of new contracts for his firm, subcontracted out from major players and home and abroad. And so it had come to pass: he was to work overseas, and scheduled to leave the following morning. For Iraq.
The argument that followed after they had first received the news hadn't been pretty. But it was nothing compared to the ugliness with which her imagination, in the weeks since the announcement, had been terrorizing her. Lyla was worried sick—some days quite literally. Matt had tried to sooth her frazzled nerves, of course. He'd assured her he would be fine; the work was all in the lushest forest of the Green Zone; it would mean a staggering injection of money for their savings; it would mean kids. But in Lyla's mind, the risks didn't outweigh the benefits and she resented him for not taking into consideration her feelings.
Yet the cloud had other origins too. Deeper, darker. Iraq had given it focus and intensity. But she knew. It was now just part of all that was off kilter in her life.
With a heavy sigh, she turned onto her side and gazed at his handsome sleeping face, his dark brown hair rumpled and sticking this way and that in the most adorable way. She reached out to ruffle it and almost stopped herself. His classic square and lean features relaxed in sleep, nose a bit too sharp a precipice, but dashing nonetheless. Still young, and working construction, his body was lean and strong, often catching the eye of other women. And she couldn't blame them. Her husband was something of a hunk. It must be in the genes. That handsome mug was duplicated, in an older, xeroxed, pre-digital copy, in his older brother Michael.
Michael...She tousled Matt's hair. Usually single, not eager to mingle, quiet, considered, more socially reserved—or so she imagined. He'd moved away shortly after she'd fallen hard for Matt. Something Michael, of course, had been implicated in. Perhaps he had even orchestrated it. And now they saw little of him, and heard mere whispers—driven, accomplished, successful, her mother in law dropped hints subtle enough to break the tiled floor of the kitchen, ever failing to annoy the hell out of Matt. Was he going to Iraq to show he could be successful too? Lyla shuddered.
Tousling again, she watched Matt's eyes slowly lift, bleary with sleep. He smiled sweetly at her, his arm returning to pull her soft, curving form against his lean, hard planes. "Hey, babe..."
She forced on a smile and touched his forehead gently, toying with his hair still and drawing out a low rumble of appreciation. "Shhhh... go back to sleep," she murmured softly.
Nuzzling the side of her neck, he shifted his big body and pressed his lips to her skin, sending a ripple of pleasure down her neck. She closed her eyes and relished the sweet, painful feeling, her heart aching. Her voice breaking: "You should be sleeping..."
She slid both hands through his hair and tugged at his hair until he lifted his face to gaze into her own. His lips came down softly against her mouth, just a feathered brush. "Lyla... I'll be back. I promise you, I will. So soon. You'll hardly have time to miss me." He assured her again, and again. Her eyes stung as tears threatened to spill.
Tilting her head back, she sniffed softly and swallowed hard. She didn't want to fight, and so she said nothing. Sensing her struggle, Matt dipped down and kissed her cheeks and nose, then back down to her lips, pressing more firmly until she opened up to him and, unconsciously, moaned. His body tightened in response. His sweet little Lyla. A girl's face, a woman's curves. Her silky skin arched beneath him, brushing his chest, her tongue stroking his own. A lone, silent tear broke free and traced the softness of her face, glittering in the near dark. He brushed it away. "I love you," he murmured, thickly, and she smiled at him, her slender throat working to control the welling of emotions.
"I love you too. Even if you are a stubborn ass," she forced herself to joke.
His smiled flashed, and then, in the darkness, she was lost to another of his kisses. Clinging to him, she pressed close, rubbing everything she could muster against him. Her thighs shifted to cradle his body against her own, opening, wrapping her legs around him, meeting the slow grind of his hips with circles of her own, her long t-shirt riding up, his naked body burning like kindling in a fire. "Make love to me, Matt," she breathed, terrified.
