Military Men

by Shelley Munro

  “The less the others know of our private business, the better,” her mother had declared. “There’s such a thing as too much sharing.”

  Once she was positive no one was spying on her, she retrieved the cream from the hidey-hole her mother had shown her under the floorboards. This was a new batch she’d made earlier in the day, and she was looking forward to the testing.

  Sorrel organized her bedding and switched off the lights, plunging her workshop into darkness. The familiar scents of her dried herbs and flowers made the pitch-black friendly and free of creeping ghosts to play on her mind.

  She’d enjoyed today, working alongside Jake and Sister Bernadette. It made her feel…normal. It gave her a glimpse of life on the outside, working at a job during the day and returning to her home in the evening. Her mother’s stories of her years before the compound, the parties, the days of work. Going shopping. A sigh escaped. It was difficult to imagine spending an afternoon wandering aimlessly through one shop after another.

  She dropped to her pallet, suddenly experiencing hesitation. No, she needed to fully test the cream. The chair would give her enough warning to dress. With years of practice, she tugged her robe over her head. She unfastened the bulky padding from around her waist and set it aside. Then she unwrapped the linen strip binding her breasts and her baggy cotton panties. Naked, she stretched, enjoying the caress of fresh air across her skin, the prickle of her breasts as they reacted to the cooler temperature.

  Anticipation stirred both mind and body as she reached for the cream.

  Masturbation is a sin. The words echoed in the back of her mind, and she smirked into the darkness. Her mother had refuted the horrified words of the elderly sister in private to Sorrel.

  “It’s the best way to learn your body. How can you tell a lover what you want if don’t know yourself?” her mother, ever practical, had asked her.

  She’d made sure Sorrel knew about sex, but even so her one time at age eighteen had been a disappointment. Listening to her mother, she’d made sure she picked a day in her cycle she was unlikely to conceive, but the bumbling Brother Gabriel had been so excited he’d come prematurely after one clumsy, painful thrust.

  In hindsight, she’d been lucky. Brother Gabriel, who had later died after falling out of a tree, had told the other boys she was terrible in bed. Her mother had spun this into a good thing.

  “You’ll have more options if you avoid pregnancy. I love you, Sorrel, and I have no regrets for having you, but if I hadn’t become pregnant, I’d have done things differently. Children of Nature was the only way I could see of keeping you and staying safe.”

  And she and her mother had planned a way for Sorrel to leave if she wanted. It had been a secret her mother hadn’t even shared with her lover, Brother Samuel.

  Sorrel reached for the tub of cream and removed the lid. She dipped her finger inside and sniffed to savor the different notes of the bouquet. The initial floral scent deepened to musky and mysterious as it absorbed her body heat. Slowly, she traced a circle around one nipple. Awareness surged through her, a delicate creep toward pleasure, but she wasn’t sure if it was the cream or residual feelings she’d experienced from getting close and sexy with Jake.

  The instant a vision of Jake bloomed in her mind, hot pleasure spilled through her. She returned to teasing her nipples, her thumb skating against the side of one breast. Using the cream as a counterpoint to the friction of her work-roughened fingers, she continued to stroke until her nipples were hard nubs, signaling lustful messages to her pussy. She swallowed, her mind full of Jake, his rare yet enticing smile and the hard pressure of his hands on her body as he’d kissed her.

  She collected another smidgeon of cream on her forefinger and delved between her legs. Heat unfurled inside her and tiny tingles coalesced into something more, better. Soon her fingers moved in long, luxurious strokes down her slit and skated her clitoris.

  A gasp escaped as Jake’s visage played across the insides of her closed eyes. She could practically feel his presence, smell his hot male scent. Her eyes flicked open, almost expecting to see him in person, but no—it was her imagination working overtime.

  Her fingers dipped and delved, running over slippery folds and now and then detouring to the hard nub of her clit. With an intense burst of heat, the sensations spiraled downward in a familiar low pressure signifying an impending climax.

  “Jake,” she whispered.

  Her hips arched upward, pushing her fingertip into greater contact with her clit. The clawing tension rushed into a ball of heat, teetered on an almost painful pulse then exploded. Sorrel bit down on her bottom lip, to keep her cry of pleasure contained, continuing gently to stimulate the bundle of nerves until the spasms tailed off.

  “Well,” she whispered into the darkness. “Nothing wrong with that batch of cream.”

  A sound—out of place—made her stiffen. She groped for her clothes, tying the stuffing around her waist and yanking the robe over her head. She shoved the cream out of sight.

  Someone forced the door, and the chair skidded across the floor with the anguished groan of wood meeting stone.

  Chapter Five

  “Let him go.”

  The panicked words flooded his dream. Urgent, they made him hesitate instead of finishing off the enemy threatening his life. A second pair of hands gripped his shoulders painfully tight, digging into his muscles.

  Jake cursed a blue streak and came awake swinging. His fist connected with someone’s jaw. His gaze flitted left and right, assessing the danger, assessing the enemy. Greg stood over by the door, his ever-present grin lighting up his face. Joy suffused Jake at seeing his friend, then as he watched, Greg started to fade. All the fight went out of Jake as he woke fully. He slumped, his hands relaxing.

  Another one of those fuckin’ dreams.

  “He tried to kill me.” A masculine voice croaked with fear.

  The fog cleared from Jake’s mind, the crispness of the real world overriding the dreamlike one. The light flicked on, illuminating the room. Jake straightened even as he realized he was bending over the bed of the brother who slept next to him.

  Fuck.

  “Sorry, man. I thought…I’m sorry.” Jake backed away until the back of his knees struck his own bed, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He dropped to the mattress hard enough to make the bed frame clunk in protest.

  “He tried to choke me,” the brother repeated.

  “Where did you get all those scars?” another demanded.

  Double fuck. Realizing he’d have to give some sort of explanation, he focused on his bare feet. “I was in an accident.”

  “Motor vehicle?”

  Jake grabbed his robe, fighting to control the shudders attempting to take over his body. “A hit and run.” A tame explanation, but one these men who knew nothing of the horrors of war would accept. God, he had to leave before he lost it totally.

  “Need fresh air,” he managed, pushing past the men loitering near his bed. He left them muttering between themselves, the man he’d almost choked complaining loudly about assault.

  His eyes adjusted to the night gloom outside. Overhead stars twinkled in a determined fashion, not cowed by the scud of clouds across the sky.

  Hell, he hadn’t had the dream for over a week. He thought he’d done with the past, accepted it wasn’t his fault Greg died, even though Greg’s fiancée and Greg’s brothers thought otherwise.

  He walked to the boundary of the compound, even remembering to limp in case someone was spying on him. Behind him the light went out as everyone returned to bed now that the excitement was over. Jake continued walking through the dark, his mind in turmoil, his friend appearing to pace silently at his side. Finally, he ceased his restless motion, letting out a pained groan. “God, Greg.” He covered his face with his hands. “Why do you have to hang around with me?”

  A crash and a feminine scream jerked him from his pity party. He was running in the direction of Sorrel’s workshop before
the thought even registered. Another crash traveled to him plus the screech of a pissed female.

  A figure burst from the workshop before Jake reached it. He or she—Jake couldn’t tell—wore dark clothes rather than a white robe, and they disappeared into the night. Jake considered chasing them and disregarded the thought because of his cover.

  “Sorrel. Sorrel? Where are you, damn it?” Jake scanned the workshop and headed over to the area where he knew she slept.

  “Jake?” Sorrel’s voice quivered from behind the door.

  “It’s me, sweetheart.” He switched on the light, his gaze going straight to Sorrel. Her face was pale, apart from a red splotch on her left cheek. “What happened?”

  “Someone wanted to get into my workshop. Thanks to your advice, I wedged a chair against the door. The sound woke me.”

  Jake eyed her cheek again. “They hit you.”

  “He started to mess up my supplies, sweeping my stock onto the floor. I tried to stop him, and he punched me.”

  “He?”

  “I think it was a man. He’d concealed his face, but why would one of the women want to destroy my workshop? The women enjoy my products, and those who work at the store love getting away from the work grind here at the compound.”

  “Maybe one of the women is jealous because she wants to work at the store.”

  “No.” Sorrel shook her head, remaining behind her workstation. “They take turns. Everyone who wants to work there ends up with a stint at the store.”

  “What’s going on here?” Brother Rick stood at the door, glancing from Sorrel to Jake.

  “Someone tried to vandalize Sorrel’s workshop.” Damn if he’d call her Bitter. She was the least bitter person he knew, which was amazing, considering the way the people here treated her.

  ”Where are they?” Brother Rick asked.

  “They ran off,” Sorrel said.

  “Rubbish. You’re exaggerating. No one here would do that. Clean up this mess, and I’ll deal with you in the morning. The rest of you can go to bed.” He glared at Sorrel before striding away toward his quarters.

  “Did they damage the stock we made this afternoon?” Jake’s gaze narrowed on Brother Rick’s back. How had he arrived so quickly? And it was interesting the way he was wearing dark jeans and a T-shirt, rather than the robe he normally wore. He’d noticed Brother Rick and his favorites donned regular clothes sometimes when they left the compound. On their return, they usually changed back to their robes, so why not this time?

  “He blames me. It could have been him. The intruder was a similar height.”

  “It could have been one of his friends,” Jake said.

  “It was too big to be Brother John, and the others aren’t back from wherever they went.”

  Jake started to pick up the spilled herbs and raw ingredients. Sorrel kneeled beside him, righting the items that had survived the fall to the stone floor.

  “I need Luke to discover where they go when they leave the compound.” Jake fetched the broom and started to sweep up the bits of jars and the unusable stock. “How often does he leave the compound?”

  “It used to be once a month, but lately he’s absent more frequently.”

  “Someone will have to go and pick them up from wherever they are.”

  Sorrel shook her head. “There are bus services to Sloan. Or they could hitch a ride with someone. They won’t stand out if they’re dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.”

  A chuckle escaped Jake. “You admit the members of the cult are weird.”

  Sorrel snorted. “From what I hear there are loads of strange people in the world. Children of Nature members don’t have exclusive rights.”

  She wasn’t wrong. No doubt gossip about him trying to throttle someone would spread through the compound as rapidly as bullets spraying from a machine gun. By tomorrow morning everyone would give the weirdo a wide berth. One thing was sure. He needed to apologize to the poor brother he’d almost choked, and it would be better if he found somewhere else to sleep because he was positive Greg hadn’t finished playing tricks on him yet. The haunting looked set to continue.

  * * * * *

  The day of the gathering arrived, and Sorrel wasn’t any closer to learning if Alice Bates wanted to market her product. A queasy sensation rested in the pit of her stomach, fighting her constant hunger for the position of honor. Horrid thoughts of Alice stealing her product darted into her mind, but no matter how she rethought her actions she couldn’t have done it any other way—not when she was tied to the compound by a rigid schedule.

  She half expected Brother Rick to stop her from making her deliveries, and she always made a point of dampening her face and hair and pinching her cheeks and chin to make herself appear sweaty before she wheeled her handcart through the gates on her return. Let him think the walk to and from the town was a punishment. She knew better.

  “It’s the gathering tonight.” She glanced up from the pot she was stirring, knots of tension churning her belly.

  Jake worked at her side, competently filling jars with a hand lotion she’d made from lemons and coconut oil.

  “What are you going to do?”

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Brother Rick wants me to break. He wants to make me like the other women—the ones who make those disgusting goo-goo eyes at him.”

  Jake paused, a glint of humor lightening his eyes. “Goo-goo eyes?”

  “You know.” A trace of impatience filled her as she tapped the spoon sharply against the edge of the pot.

  “I’m a guy. Any relation to a stink eye?”

  She huffed out a sigh and turned to face him. His interested gaze made her want to squirm, and she sucked in a quick breath, her breasts straining against their binding. Angry with herself, because a future wasn’t possible with this man, she squared her shoulders and blinked while pursing her lips into a sultry pout.

  A wide smile broke, and she caught a flash of white teeth despite his bushy black beard.

  “So that’s a goo-goo eye,” he said. “You look as if you have a smut stuck in there.”

  “I need practice. Not that I want goo-goo eyes in my repertoire. I’m not going to let Brother Rick force me into a life at the compound, which is why I’m attending the gathering with you.” Shock that she’d told him made her freeze, and she held her breath while she waited for his reply. If he refused…

  “Are you sure you want to attend? You’re not twenty-five yet.”

  She made a scoffing sound at the back of her throat. “Most of the younger women attend. He’s using the age requirement to taunt me. Brother Rick isn’t expecting me to turn up, let alone take part. I can’t wait to see the expression on his face when I walk into the communal hall.”

  Jake turned to her, his face serious. “Don’t goad him, sweetheart. The man is dangerous. The last thing you want is your grand gesture to prod him into taking further action at your expense.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He could always force you to share his bed, and there isn’t much you could do to stop him.”

  Some of the oomph seeped out of her confidence. Jake was right. Brother Rick held grudges. She’d already learned to her cost.

  “He’s tried before and failed. I presume it’s part of the reason he hates me.” She turned away to check the slow simmer of her pot. A quick stir of the creamy contents told her the mixture wasn’t sticking. “I punctured his ego.”

  Jake grasped her forearm and tugged her to face him. “When?”

  The single word was an order, a sharp bark of sound she imagined worked well in the military world.

  “Don’t try to order me around. I get enough of that from Brother Rick and the other men.”

  He released her arm and lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry. Please tell me what happened between you and Brother Rick.”

  “Virginity is prized around here. Some of the girls choose to be honored and go through an initiation.”

  “Jesus. Why
?”

  “It’s a sign of our acceptance of the Children of Nature philosophies and a rite of passage to adulthood.” Each stiff word held shame. God, she hated living here. Maybe she should’ve left earlier, run away as a teenager, but she hadn’t wanted to leave her mother.

  “Who gets the honor?”

  “The leader.”

  “But you didn’t lose your virginity to the last leader. Brother Samuel?”

  “No.” Her gaze shot to her sandals and her shoulders rounded to make her appear smaller, weaker. Submissive.

  “Sorrel, don’t do that.” She heard the scuff of his sandals on the stone floor as he neared her. His fingertips tilted up her chin until she watched him warily. “You’re my equal. There is no need to act submissive around me. Is that why you gave yourself to one of the other brothers? Please tell me.”

  It was the please that did it. A wealth of emotion burst open inside her, much like a blooming flower. “I hated the thought of everyone knowing, everyone discussing my ceremony, and that was why I picked a younger brother once I felt ready. He was so excited it was over and done in seconds.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Jake muttered.

  “Too late. He fell out of a tree and broke his neck.”

  Jake shot her a sharp look. “And that’s the only time you’ve been with a man?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  “What? What do you see?” He was judging her, making her feel stupid and embarrassed just as the other men did. At this rate she wouldn’t need to turn on a burner to melt the wax for candles. She’d manage the job with the heat of her cheeks.

  “You’re still practically a virgin.”

  Sorrel frowned at him, not understanding.

  “You can’t go into the gathering. If anyone is watching, they’ll notice.” He gestured in the direction of her stomach, but she knew what he meant. She’d run the risk of attracting unwanted attention.

  “What else can I do? I was hoping I’d hear from Alice. Time is running out.”

  “I could get you out tonight. I have friends who’d help you.”