His Comfort & Joy

by V Vee

  But that wasn’t the entire truth. While the idiot who thought it was his place to tell my woman any-fucking-thing seemed agitated by the mere possibility of my presence, I was already deciding what to do about him.

  I wonder which one will cause him more pain. Removing his fingers, then his toes, then his arms, legs, dick, and then his heart, or perhaps just shooting him right in between the eyes? I mean it is the Christmas season. I should be charitable.

  I would have stayed right where I was in my SUV and waited for him to leave, if only Parker hadn’t… touched him.

  My woman had her fucking hand on another man.

  That was a big no-no. She was putting that man’s life in danger just by smiling at him. But touching him? She was putting his family’s lives on the line now.

  While I wasn’t as bad as my friend, Kynan McCarthy, however. Not when it came to the woman who breathed life into my soul. Oh no, Kynan who’d originally been called “Irish” by the rest of the Devils—brothers-in-arms, who serve in the Marines—in our platoon. He’d only been called that twice before he’d hemmed up one of the guys calling him that. The rest of us had stood around in surprise as he snarled in the other man’s face like an animal, his lips pulled back, exposing his teeth, his green eyes flashing with green fire, and the red hair on his head—which had been cut down to be uniform, which was SOP: Standard Operating Practice, had shined like flames atop his head.

  None of us even dared to step close to him. We were all called “Devils” or at least it was what some of us called each other, and yet, Kynan was the only one I could think of who actually legitimized the term. He looked and acted exactly as if he’d just crawled up from the depths of hell. His eyes were always flickering around the room, not in the same way the rest of us did… no, Kynan acted as if he were running from something, or waiting for someone. None of us knew exactly what it was, we just knew he was scary as fuck.

  Which was why he and I had become fast friends. Most of the guys thought I was a little unhinged as well.

  I’d been the only one to step close to Kynan that day, to try and dislodge his grip from its position around our fellow Devil’s neck. Which was why I’d been close enough to hear what he’d said.

  “Don’t you ever call me that name again. If you knew the real Irishman, you would be quaking in your fucking coframes, with your little ass pack flooded with your piss, just thinking his name, much less saying it. You know my goddamn name. So say it properly or you and I will have to have this conversation in a totally different way. Got me?”

  Then before I could reach out to grab him, Kynan had punch the wall, creating a hole where his fist had been, and I winced along with the rest of our brothers when he pulled his hand back and it was covered in blood. Kynan hadn’t appeared as if he even felt the wound or the damage to his hand, but knowing I needed to get him away from everyone in the barracks before he did something even more foolish, I’d shoved him out the door to the nurse.

  Kynan was a loose cannon, we’d all known that, which had made him perfect for the MOS we had. I never thought he would calm down or fuck, even smile, then he FaceTime™ me one day, a big, bright grin on his face and said three words to me.

  “I found her.”

  I frowned at the huge smile on Kynan’s face and shook my head as I walked out of the tent where I’d been camping out with a few of our other brothers. I was confused. Had Kynan been looking for someone? And if he were, why hadn’t he told the rest of us so we could have helped him?

  “Found who?” I asked.

  Kynan chuckled—something else I’d never heard from him—and tugged a woman into the view of the camera as well. She wasn’t as tall as my friend, but I could still tell she was not petite, either. Her skin was a sepia brown color, not as dark as my Parker’s but not as light as that one singer everyone went crazy over… what was her name? Oh yeah, Beyoncé. Kynan’s woman had eyes that were slanted and tilted up at the corners, like thin almonds. She had what Parker used to call, “bedroom eyes”, so I could very much see why my friend had been hooked on her. Add her curvy frame—at least from what I could see in the camera’s frame—and her hair which was in a high ponytail and if I hadn’t been hopelessly in love with Parker, I may have just tried to take her away from my friend. Whoever she was.

  “Ava meet my brother, Logan. We served together,” Kynan introduced us. “Logan, this is my woman, Ava.”

  Ava, the woman Kynan had plastered to his side rolled her eyes. “I haven’t agreed to be yours, Ky.”

  Kynan growled. “You agreed when you let me between your thighs, Brown Sugar.”

  “Kynan!” Ava gasped and I laughed, shaking my head.

  “You must give him a run for his money, Miss Ava. I haven’t seen Kynan with a woman since Afghanistan,” I told her. “And if he’s claimed you, he’s not letting another man get near you.”

  Kynan’s eyes narrowed. “You got that fucking right. I’d dismember any man that tried.”

  And I knew exactly how he felt. When I saw Parker’s hand settle on the strange man’s arm, my vision went red. I climbed out of my SUV with one thought in my mind.

  Claim what’s mine.

  Which was why I walked straight up to where they stood. Her in the doorway of her home and him, outside, glancing over his shoulder at me. I knew the moment Parker saw me. Her eyes lit up with joy, then darkened with uncertainty, confusion, before finally pain and tears flooded those dark brown orbs.

  My woman should never be in pain. Especially not because of me.

  “L-Logan?”

  I smirked at the man who stood in front of her, attempting to protect her from me.

  Dumbass motherfucker.

  “Hey, baby. Miss me?” I asked.

  I was stunned when instead of answering me, she covered her face and burst into tears.

  The man, whose name I still did not know—and that pissed me off more than anything—went to reach out to comfort her but stopped when I growled at him. Moving past him, I gathered Parker into my arms.

  “Sshh. Baby. It’s okay. I’m here now,” I soothed her.

  She shoved me away from her, or at least she tried to. Now that I had her back in my arms, I wasn’t ever going to let her go again.

  “W-What are you doing here?” she asked, wiping her face.

  I shook my head and chuckled at her ridiculous question. She knew why I was there. She had to know. She was mine. I always came back for what belonged to me.

  “I told you I was coming back for you,” I told her. “Didn’t you believe me?”

  The tears in her eyes was all the answer I needed. She shook her head and wiggled in my embrace, attempting to get free. It was only the asshole behind me, clearing his throat that finally made me let her go, only to turn and face him, with my arms folded across my chest.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I asked with anger tinging my words.

  “Um… Logan this is Steven, my colleague. He’s the vice principal at SJA. Steven this is Logan. My…”

  “Her man,” I answered, not appreciating the way Parker hesitated over who I was to her. I could see that she needed a reminder, and if the way my cock had hardened in my jeans was any indication, I couldn’t wait to give it to her.

  “I thought you were single, Parker?” Steven questioned with a frown.

  I glared at him. “You were mistaken.”

  Parker shoved at my back and stepped around me. “No, he wasn’t,” she said shaking her head. “I am single.”

  “What the fuck, Park?” I growled.

  She whirled around, her hair swirling around her shoulders before she poked me in the center of my chest.

  “Four. Years, Logan. Four fucking years,” she hissed. “I haven’t seen you in four motherfucking years. You bet your ass I’m single.”

  I grinned at the way she sounded when she cussed. Parker was too… wholesome for the filthy words she’d just spewed at me, and yet, hearing them fall from her lips turned me the fuck on. I’d a
lways made her use dirty words when we were together, and though her dark skin didn’t completely show it, I always knew she blushed whenever she would say things like: “Fuck me, daddy,” or “Lick my pussy, Lo.”

  Fuck. I couldn’t wait to hear her say that again.

  “It’s Christmas, baby,” I told her. “Of course I came home.”

  Parker shook her head. “Don’t give me that bull, Logan. You’ve missed three Christmases. Almost four. What makes this one so special?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck at the guilt that slithered through me at her words. She was right, of course, I’d missed plenty of Christmases, so why was this one so special?

  I knew why, but damn if I wanted to tell her.

  “I couldn’t stay away from you. I’ve been overseas working and serving our country, and one day I looked around and realized that while I’d accomplished what I’d wanted to, it didn’t mean anything if I didn’t have you by my side, or waiting at home for me to return. Nothing matters without you.”

  Her eyes filled with tears again and she shook her head.

  “When did you become so… poetic?” she wondered aloud.

  I laughed. “When I was talking to the therapist they assigned me, and she asked me why I felt so unfulfilled.” I shrugged. “The only answer I had was that I missed you. Your scent, your touch, your kiss. Everything. I needed you… I need you.”

  Parker waved her hands in the air. “No. No. Absolutely not. I’m not letting you back into my life that easily.”

  I chuckled. “Woman, you belong to me. And I came here not just for Christmas but for good.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me and looked me up and down. I knew what she saw. My body had bulked up, hardened, and tanned from my time in the Marines. I was tougher than I had been. I was more driven. More determined. I looked more like a lion than a bear. Even my hair had grown longer in the time I’d left the base and went on a journey to find her. And why she wasn’t in our old place I would have to ask her. I liked her new home, but it seemed entirely too big for just the two of us.

  “So, you’re back just in time for Christmas, hmm?”

  I nodded, once again gathering her close in my arms.

  “Soo… Did you get me something or are you supposed to be my gift?” she asked with a watery smile.

  “I did indeed get you a present,” I whispered against her neck as I tugged her closer, pressing my thickening cock against her plush, soft body. She seemed… softer somehow. Her breasts were bigger, her hips rounder than they had been, and while she wasn’t “fat”, my girl definitely had put on some weight and there was a lot more for me to grab onto. She was “thick” now… and I loved it more than I could possibly put into words.

  I could really fuck her and not have to worry about breaking her, I thought to myself.

  “Well… I got one for you too. I’ve had it for about 3 years now.” Parker looked at me hesitantly and for some reason, the expression on her face made me tense up. However, before I could question her about it, a small voice spoke from inside the house.

  “Mommy? Who’s that?”

  I turned and looked down and saw a small girl… standing beside her twin… both looking up at me. I shifted my gaze to Parker, who looked guilty, and back to the little version of herself. They looked to be about three, maybe four… no, they had to be three, Parker had her period the month before I shipped out. Nine months of pregnancy and…

  I quickly did the math in my head, before returning my attention to Parker.

  “Holly? Noelle? This is Logan… your father,” she answered the little girl, her eyes staying trained on my face.

  I opened my mouth to respond but darkness swamped my vision and I knew nothing.

  Chapter Three

  Logan and The Stake Out

  2019

  Parker Leon

  He was outside my door again.

  After passing out on my front porch, Logan had been dead to the world as Steven, the girls, and I tried to revive him. We’d finally gotten him inside and, on the couch, but while I was talking to my daughters, trying to explain why their father was only just now coming to our home, Logan had awakened, and left. Without a word of goodbye.

  Again.

  Then he’d shown up the next morning and sat outside in his SUV. I’d watched him and the girls had asked me over and over again why their “daddy” wouldn’t come inside, but I hadn’t known what to say.

  How do I explain to them that whenever Logan got angry with me, he would leave, but keep me in his eyesight at the same time?

  There had been one particularly bad argument, when he’d stomped out of our bedroom, only to grab a chair and follow me around the apartment, sitting no further than twenty feet away from me. Silent. Watching me with a mutinous expression on his face.

  It always made me feel guilty.

  But it also made me feel loved. As if he were saying—without words—that he didn’t want to talk to me, but that he couldn’t not be around me either.

  Well, that’s how he’d been before he’d enlisted of course. Then he was able to be away from me for four whole years.

  That doesn’t excuse you not telling him about his children, my subconscious reprimanded me.

  If it wasn’t bad enough that Logan was mad at me, and my daughters kept asking questions, and Steven kept sending text messages interrogating me about the man who was the father to my children whom he’d assumed was dead or not in the picture; my subconscious had been going nonstop with the snarky, angry, guilt-inducing commentary since Logan passed out in front of my home.

  God! I wish he would just come in!

  I huffed out a breath and jerked the curtain closed. I would go out to him, but remembering past arguments, that always made things worse. I was just going to have to wait him out, and hope he eventually decided to talk to me.

  When there was a knock on the door, a firm, almost angry knock, I sighed in relief.

  “It’s about damn time,” I said as I hurried to open the door. I jerked it wide and gasped when Logan stormed in, picking me up in his arms and turning to pin me against the wall.

  “You kept my fucking children away from me for three years?” He snarled.

  “You left me!” I accused him right back.

  “I was working!”

  “You were running!” I growled in his face. When he blinked at me, I poked him in the forehead. “You took off because of what my father and your father said to you. Your father told you that you would never amount to anything. That you would always be mooching off my family and you were pathetic, and when my father asked you what your intentions were and if you could provide for me and our future family, you got scared! You took off. This had absolutely nothing to do with you wanting to serve this damn country.”

  “Parker…” he shook his head.

  “Fuck this damn country!” I yelled at him. “And fuck you too! You left me. You were willing to give us up for your goddamn pride. And when you sent me that letter telling me you were thinking about doing eight years instead of four?” I swung my head side to side. “I knew you weren’t coming back. I knew that was your way of telling me to sit around with my thumb up my ass while you found yourself.”

  I inhaled deeply, tears coming to my eyes. “But I couldn’t wait, Logan. I was pregnant. And I was going to tell you until you said that to me. And then… I just… I didn’t. Because you didn’t deserve to know them, and you didn’t deserve me.”

  And like that, as if all the air had been let out of his body, Logan set me back on the floor and took a few steps away from me.

  “Is that what you thought?” he asked, sadness darkening his eyes.

  “It’s what I know,” I replied.

  “Mommy? Are you fighting with Daddy?” Noelle’s voice pierced the haze of my fury, frustration, and despair. I turned to her and pasted a smile on my face.

  “No honey!” I lied. “Sometimes adults just talk really loud when they’re happy to see each other.”


  Noelle just stared at me for a long moment, not saying a word, before she looked back at Logan.

  “You’re my Daddy?” she asked.

  Logan swallowed and nodded. “I am.”

  Noelle just watched him, silently, before she spun on her heel and walked away.

  “Fuck. That was worse than uniform inspection,” he muttered.

  I snorted out a laugh and made a move to follow my daughters. I knew if Noelle was coming out to check on me, then it wouldn’t be too long before Holly would make her way down the hall to simply stare at me. I gasped when Logan grabbed my arm, swinging me around to face him again.

  “We’re not done, Park,” he said, his eyebrows low on his face, a frown pulling his lips down.

  “Yes.” I snatched my arm out of his grip. “We are.”

  Logan shook his head and pointed down the hallway where Noelle had just walked down.

  “Those are my daughters, but they don’t know who I am. They don’t know how to feel about me. They don’t know whether I’m a good guy or a bad guy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and my eyes followed the movement. I could remember him, resting his head in my lap, and my own fingers caressing the soft strands as I lulled him to sleep.

  “What do you want me to do about it?” I questioned, my hands on my hips.

  Logan looked at me as if I’d just asked the stupidest question in the world, and I guess, in a way, I had. I rolled my eyes and tossed my hands up in the air.

  “Fine, Logan! Fine!” I sighed then turned towards the bedrooms. “Holly? Noelle? Can you come here please?” I waited for the sound of their little feet padding down the hall. Once they’d reached us, I walked over to them and knelt down in front of my two girls before looking over my shoulder at Logan.

  “Remember how I told you that Logan was your father?” I asked them.

  Holly and Noelle nodded, looking uncertainly at the man who had helped to create them.