Reg was a soldier. Not a particularly high ranking one but a respected one. His competence struck you immediately. He was good with his hands and his head.
Jen was a journalist. She'd always had a sense of adventure. She was a good listener. She not only wanted to hear your story, she wanted to understand you. People trusted her and opened up to her.
Jen was embedded with the troops. When Reg first saw her, petite in her too heavy flak jacket, he immediately felt protective of her. When he had introduced himself, she had looked up at him with curiosity.
She'd extended her small hand to him and he had taken it in both of his strong hands. She'd immediately noticed the way he held himself, he was capable, he had nothing to prove.
Over many weeks in close proximity, they had become close. Reg was not someone who opened up to people. He was reserved, comfortable in his own skin and his own company.
But there was something about Gen that made him open up to her. Despite what they shared, neither of them had tried to make a move.
Then, on a regular patrol Jen was accompanying the soldiers on, they were unexpectedly attacked. As they ducked for cover, Reg had an overwhelming urge to protect Jen, covering her body with his own.
As soon as there was a lull, Reg helped her up, and, with his arm still around her, they ran for better cover. To Reg's suprise, Jen put her arms around him, resting her head on his broad chest.
"Jen," he breathed quietly. "It's going to be ok, I've got you." And he held her to him tightly.
"I don't want to leave you alone but I have to go back and help the others," he said, taking her face in his hands. "You're safe here, I promise I'll come back for you."
And he did. Come back for her. As they walked back to camp, surrounded by the other soldiers, they were forced to leave everything unsaid between them.
There was so little privacy. Reg bunked with the other soldiers. Gen had a small camp bed tucked away in an admin/storage area. While her little space was at least somewhat private, it was impossible to come and go unseen.
In the mess tent that night he came up to her, tray of food in hand. He knew it was too conspicuous a gesture, surrounded by so many eyes, but he couldn't help reaching out and touching her arm.
"Are you ok?"
She nodded. She wanted so much for him to hold her. His strong arms embracing her earlier was all she could think about.
They sat. Their trays between them. Trying to eat. Trying to talk normally. Under the table her leg brushed against his. Their energy crackling at the brief connection.
That night Gen woke up in her small camp bed with a start. She'd had a nightmare about the attack. She pulled her jacket on and went outside to get some air. The stars in this desert place were countless and seemed so close.
Without realising where her feet were guiding her, Gen found herself outside the tent Reg shared with a group of other soldiers. She hesitated, knowing she definitely shouldn't go in. But again, her body was ahead of her brain, and she moved quietly inside the tent.
She quickly picked Reg out of the heavily breathing mounds of soldiers sleeping on cots around the tent. Before she could talk herself out of it, she quickly crossed the space to Reg's bed.
Her body continued to act out of instinct, she took off her jacket and snuggled onto his tiny cot next to him. When she thought about it later, with logic, she was surprised he didn't startle awake. But in the moment, it seemed to make complete sense, maybe she entered his dream at the perfect time.
He murmured very quietly. Unzipped his sleeping bag and pulled her inside, covering them both and wrapping his arms around her.
He was wearing just a tight white t-shirt and tight cotton shorts style underwear. His body felt so warm and strong and she snuggled into him, breathing him in.
At first it was purely comfort. The feeling of safety and security in his arms. But slowly it started to turn into something else. Jen knew Reg felt it too, she could feel him hardening through his underwear as he was pressed against her.
"Jen," he whispered into her hair as though waking up to continue his dream.
"Shh," she whispered, putting a finger against his lips.
Since she had taken her jacket off when she climbed into his bed, she was wearing only her nightie. She was acutely aware of the fact she was wearing nothing underneath, no bra or panties.
He could feel her perky breasts against him through the thin fabric of her nightie. The smooth skin of her legs and arms against him.
She shouldn't be in his bed. They could both get in a lot of trouble for this. But he wanted her there more than he'd ever wanted anything.
"Jen," he said again, his voice shuddering with desire. He didn't need to explain the risks they were taking, she understood. He could only assume by her actions she needed him as badly as he needed her.
"I know I shouldn't be here," she said. As if reading his mind. "But there's no place that feels better than right here in your arms."
