T. Novan - Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

"Colonel? I forgot to ask. How is your shoulder?"

"It is fine, Miss Rebecca, really."

"You are sure."

"Yes Ma’am. I am definitely sure."

"Sleep well, Colonel."

He lay there listening to her breath, hearing the soft sighs and moans as she adjusted to get comfortable. He intentionally slowed his breathing and closed his eyes, trying to relax. He was nearly asleep when he felt it happen, she rolled over and curled up next to him. It was all he could do to keep from whimpering. Instead, he just took a deep, calming breath and prepared for a long night.

Rebecca felt strong hands on her shoulders. Resting there, comforting her, making her feel safe. She could feel warm breath in her ear and on her cheek, soft lips caressing her neck.

She closed her eyes, just letting all these pleasant sensations wash over her body. She could not stop the soft groan that left her lips. Her breathing picked up, lips grew dry as she pulled in deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart.

"Rebecca……"

"Oh……" She moaned, leaning back into the body behind her. Her hands traveled to the arms that encircled her waist from behind. She stroked the skin, realizing for the first time that they were both unclothed. The skin under her hands was warm and soft. The touch was gentle in a way she had never experienced before and her body was responding in kind.

"So lovely……" The voice whispered in her ear, as soft lips tenderly kissed her neck and jaw.

She closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of the gentle touches and the soft words. She reached back, caressing the side of her lover ’ s face. She could feel short hair and smooth cheeks. She moaned again, when lips kissed the tender flesh of her palm. "Please……"

The hands that circled her waist slowly moved over her body. One caressed her stomach while the other left blazing trails from her hip to her shoulder. Rebecca ’ s senses were on overload. She did not understand the way her body was reacting; she could feel her pulse racing and her stomach fluttering wildly. She also started to feel the warm, pulsing between her legs. "Oh God……" She gasped when she felt tender fingers, brush over her nipple, causing it to go painfully hard. She could swear it was fire running through her veins, but it was delicious in its intensity. She did not know what she wanted exactly, but she knew she did not want this to stop.

"So soft……" The deep voice burred in her ear, as hands continued to roam her body, touching her in ways that she did not know were possible.

Rebecca felt as if she would die from want. She wanted to turn around and face her lover; she wanted to know who it was making her feel so wonderful. Slowly she turned, and then suddenly her lover was gone.

Rebecca’s eyes opened, her breathing ragged her body still responding to the dream. She shifted to try and dampen some of the feelings coursing through her. When she did, she realized she was in Charlie’s arms, held close to the strong body. Her first reaction was to move away, so she would not disturb the Colonel, but she could not force herself to do it and she ended up moving closer, allowing herself to find comfort there. She did not understand all the things that were in her mind. All she knew was at this very moment she was warm and safe.

Charlie laid quietly in the big bed, listening to Rebecca’s breathing slow to that deep, regular tempo that indicated sleep. As she had each night before, she rolled to face away from him, cuddling into his arms. He rolled onto his side and curled around the smaller woman, sheltering her in his arms, comforting her sleeping form with the heat of his own body. The aroma of her hair filled his nostrils with the memory of lilacs. Slowly, he drifted into sleep.

Slowly, he ran his hands over her slender form, caressing the curve of her arm, the sweep of her back from shoulder to that lush flaring of her hips and the soft curve of her nether cheeks. Slowly, he traced the line of her spine through the thin fabric of her nightgown, clinging to her warm body. His hands brushed her silken hair from her slender neck. Slowly, using a touch that was barely there, he began tasting the smooth, soft skin at the base of her neck, across her shoulders and up to the tender spot behind her ear. The pressure of his breath on her skin was almost more profound than the touch of his lips.

He gathered her deeper in his arms, stroking soft circles on her firm stomach, sliding his hands over the sweet swell of her hips and up the front of her thighs. Her head rested on his right shoulder, and that lucky arm curled around her body, the tips of his fingers lightly stroking the tops of her breasts through the thin gown, venturing lower and lower until they just barely swept over hardened nipples.

As he continued to stroke and caress her, the nightgown seemed to melt away. Her silken skin lay under his fingers, the palms of his hands, his lips. Tenderly he tasted the skin of her neck and shoulders, the elegant lines of her shoulders and spine, the fullness of her firm derriere, then turned her towards him and sampled the silk of her breasts, the planes of her belly. He worshipped her body with his hands and lips, this tongue and very gently his teeth. He breathed her name like a prayer "Rebecca."

He woke suddenly. His arms were around her, her hands lay over his own, affirming the tender grip he had on her. His heart was pounding, his unbound nipples pressed against her shoulders through the cotton of his nightshirt and the flannel of her gown. The heat in his belly was trying to consume him. Though her touch was gentle, it was if she had placed shackles on his wrists, binding his arms around her own body. He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck and sighed softly into her hair. The rest of the night was spent suspended in this most exquisite torture.

Chapter 5

Monday, November 7, 1864

Charlie rose before sunup. This night had been both better and worse than the preceding ones. Rebecca was beginning to invade his dreams as well as his heart, and the results were enough to put the usually even-tempered Colonel into a serious state of melancholy.

He gathered his clothing, pulling on his breast wrap, shirt, trousers and coat. The rest of his clothes he bundled under his arm. Barefoot, he hiked back to his command tent, relishing the cold almost as if it were some sort of self-inflicted penance.

At this hour, the bathing area was always deserted. Charlie posted the sign that indicated the bath was in use, and then quickly submersed himself in the cold stream. A rough shave left him with a small nick in his chin, the price of his own shaking hand. Whether the trembling was from the cold or from his memories of the previous night was not a question that Charlie wanted to look at too closely.

He prepared to don his day uniform –– the outer shell of an officer. A wry, bitter smile played around his lips as he donned the undergarments that hid his true gender and added a certain amount of padding to emulate the appendages of a man in his tight britches. One more piece of the fraud. Ah, Miss Rebecca. When I wear the trappings of a man, I AM one to you. You flirt, you tease and I respond as any good gentleman would. Yet divest me of my symbols and appearances, let me stand before you as a woman, and I am just a sister, safe and trustworthy. Perhaps I represent the best of both worlds to you –– a charming masculine companion and a safe bed partner. I wish you understood what you are doing to me, dear lady, but I can never explain, can I. Charlie put on his clothes for the day, and with them, his role as the committed Colonel.