by Sex, Nikki
Sweet baby Jesus, he smells so good.
Deliciously sore in an astonishing number of places, she blamed herself. She’d told him to let go, and man, oh man, he sure had.
Naked, Laura got out of bed and turned to look at her butt and thighs. Huh. No bruises, which kind of surprised her. Jack was a strong man and he’d held her so tightly.
She smiled happily and threw on one of his big T-shirts. It smelled good too, just like him.
Her face heated suddenly as she remembered. He’d been thinking about her when he talked about the importance of mothers. He’d spoken of children, too!
Jack was intently studying his phone when she came in.
“What are you doing?”
He stood up and pulled her into his arms, giving her a kiss and cuddle. “You look beautiful.”
“You need your vision checked, dude. No make-up, I haven’t showered, and my hair is a mess.”
“Beautiful,” he re-iterated. “And I liked sleeping with you.”
She snorted. “Sleeping with me, or sleeping with me?”
Raw lust radiated from those unblinking, steel-grey eyes. “Both,” he said.
Laura’s heart gave an extra beat as her mind and body remembered all the pleasures she’d experienced last night. A wave of desire ran through her, but she curbed it, pointedly ignoring his aroused look.
There was no way she was going to let Jack start something. No more sex until she showered and ate!
Avoiding his gaze, she looked over his shoulder at his phone, trying to figure out what he found so absorbing.
“I left my laptop in the car so I’m checking facebook on my phone—your coffee is over there.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, walking over and adding milk and sugar. The aroma of fresh coffee always brought her brain cells back in line.
“Mmmm. Coffee. You saved my life.” She frowned, peering at the screen. “You have facebook?”
“You don’t?”
Laura grinned, surprised to discover that her lack of Facebook experience was incredible to Jack. He showed her pictures of his sister’s Facebook page as well as the page for her business.
The coffee was great, strong and sweet, exactly the way she liked to have it first thing in the morning. Sipping and savoring, Laura almost finished it, while enjoying every drop.
“Your sister kind of looks like you.”
Jack smirked. “Don’t tell her that.”
“She looks like a nice person.”
“She is. You two will love each other.”
“You think?”
“I’m sure of it.”
The confidence in his voice caught her off guard. Laura wanted to ask him when he imagined they would ever meet, but somehow she felt too shy to mention it. His next words surprised her.
“I think you should come home with me to California so you can meet Sally.”
He said it so casually—just drop everything and go. Leave her home and her life behind to go clear across the country with him. Why would she do that? Unless he was serious about keeping her around.
The thought made her stomach flutter with excitement.
Escape. Freedom. New experiences and maybe even…love?
There really wasn't much tying Laura to New Bern. Nothing of great importance. Only danger, debt and destructive reminders of her past, as far as she could tell.
She finished her drink and set her empty cup on the table. “Let me get this straight,” she said with an unexpected bite to her voice. “You want me to go with you to California, just so I can meet Sally?”
“No.” He raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
Laura laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I see. I should drop everything and run away with you—just to warm your bed?”
Jack took her in his arms, pressing her hard against him as he crushed his lips to hers. He made a noise in her mouth—kind of a low moan. Laura felt his erection through his jeans, she felt the hard male strength of him and his raw, almost savage hunger for her.
Jack’s kiss was so hot, so all consuming and possessive, that her legs went weak. All thoughts of resistance disappeared. In fact her every thought fled, along with every brain cell. Laura melted into him, her body aching, craving…
Jack’s kiss was more intimate than sex.
Forget intimacy. His kiss alone was sexier than sex.
Laura figured if Jack kept going, she could climax from a kiss like that.
“Whew,” she murmured when he pulled back to meet her eyes. She was glad he had a firm hold of her—otherwise she might fall.
“OK,” she said.
“OK, what?”
“OK, warming your bed sounds like a good enough reason to go anywhere with you.” Forget the ‘no sex until she showered and ate’ concept. Laura was more than half way there. Jack had started something alright, and she wanted to help him end it.
Laughing, he gave her a quick hug and kissed her nose. “C’mon, let’s get ready and go get something to eat. I’m starving. We can talk about it over breakfast.”
“Starving?” Laura teased, raising one eyebrow. “What exactly are you hungry for?”
Jack stood up straight, pushed out his upper torso, and beat his fists on his chest. “Me want woman,” he announced in a ridiculous Tarzan voice. His smug, smart-ass smile tugged at her heart.
Then he swept her up, off her feet and into his arms—he seemed to be making a habit of that.
Laura squealed as he squeezed her against him, ravishing her face and throat with kisses, and bites, pretending to eat her as he strode to the shower.
They showered together, laughing and teasing and making love. Laura felt entirely comfortable with Jack. With him, she could be herself.
As new and exciting as their relationship was, already she felt as if they’d known each other for years.
Chapter 47.
The next week went by quickly.
Laura was beyond ecstatic when she quit her job and gave up her apartment. The prospect of moving out of state was similar to the escape she'd so desperately wanted with Bob.
Laura felt she and Jack shared a deep connection—more than she'd have ever had the chance to share with Bob.
They were on the same wavelength.
They fit together, reaching a level of understanding, fulfillment and closeness that she and Bob could never have attained.
Their experiences from opposite sides of the earth, although as different as first world rich, and third world poor, had numerous aspects in common. They'd both been living life in survival mode, just trying to get by for a start.
Although they continued to be cautious and alert, looking over their shoulders—every day they woke up, looking forward with excitement to another day together.
They took the opportunity to tour the area and to surf almost every day. Laura found she was still a natural. She adored surfing as much as Jack did, happily staying out on the water with her board for hours at a time.
Their mutual love of the ocean was another thing that brought them together.
Unable to keep their hands off of each other, they made love over and over again both night and day. Jack’s apartment bed got quite a work out—but so did many other places, like the car, the kitchen, against a wall, in the shower, on the beach and in the ocean.
It was ridiculous.
To Laura, every single time they made love was unique and special. It only made her more desperate for him. She’d never known such desire as she experienced with Jack.
Laura finally understood what addiction felt like, because even after experiencing a mind blowing climax, she wanted him again.
She couldn’t get enough of Jack.
Although they'd only recently met face to face, they'd both already been emotionally invested for months. Having each other's letters to read and look forward to, they'd grown to care about each other, and even to rely on each other from afar.
Right now they had no money concerns weighin
g them down, and no stress about work. To Laura, it seemed as though she was on a honeymoon, just without the wedding. They were never bored.
As different as the worlds they'd come from were, they'd each been traumatized. Each suffered from the aftereffects of their separate brands of Hell.
At night, they both experienced frequent nightmares. Hers involved Ron and Jonah, of course.
Jack explained that VBIEDs, pronounced VeeBids, were Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosives. Most of his nightmares involved these horrific bombs. They'd caused countless useless deaths during his time in Iraq.
Jack confided to her about his fear of burning to death.
Something that proved helpful for Jack was that Laura could usually tell when his nightmares began, as he'd start to whimper. As a light sleeper, she'd manage to tap him just enough to make his dream-self go into reset.
Each time she woke him, the bad dream went away—before it could develop into a full-blown nightmare.
This technique worked for Laura, as years at war had taught Jack to be alert to sounds while he slept. A simple touch of her shoulder was enough to interrupt her nightmares, too.
With their PTSD sleep disturbances under control, they both managed to get a good night sleep.
They regularly checked in with the police about Ron's murder, more specifically, the ongoing manhunt of tracking down Jonah. The police had made no progress and had no helpful leads. Jonah couldn’t be found.
That fact laid heavily on Laura’s mind.
While she was awake, she could remember her gun and distract herself so she wasn’t too anxious. However, Jonah had free reign while she slept.
Late one afternoon, Jack and Laura went to Bob’s grave to pay their respects. It was Laura's third visit since he’d died. The first time was to bury him; the second was to tell him about the loss of his unborn child, and today was to say good-bye.
There was nothing left for her here.
Laura dug a little hole and buried his ring.
“I have to give this back to you, Bob,” she said. “I want you to know that despite everything that’s happened, I’ve found happiness. I hope that wherever you are, you’re happy, too.”
Naturally, she and Jack talked about Bob on and off for the rest of the afternoon. They told stories about him and his innocent, well-intended antics, making each other laugh.
Later that evening, back at the hotel, Bob remained in her thoughts.
After a very late dinner, Laura cleared the dishes and loaded the dishwasher, while Jack put the food back in the fridge.
“I wish I could quit feeling bad about how things have turned out,” she said, as she began washing a pan in the sink. “Bob is dead and I feel incredibly happy. It seems so wrong.”
“I really get that, sweetheart,” Jack said. “They call it ‘Survivor's Guilt’ and it’s a common problem. You feel like you’ve done the wrong thing, simply by being alive when others have died. Lord knows, I’ve had it myself many times.”
She turned to meet his eyes, a cloth for wiping the table in her hand. “What did you do about it?”
He shrugged. “I usually end up thinking something like ‘shit happens’ or ‘to Hell with the bastards.’ Then I decide that I deserve to live. It should be easier in your case because if Bob could see you now, I know he’d be happy for you.”
“That’s true,” she said with a smile, remembering how kind and generous he’d been.
Laura wondered if her emotions were intensified by being premenstrual. She felt a bit irritable and out of sorts. Kind of on edge. She didn't mention this thought to Jack.
They'd already been talking about her feelings most of the day and into night. Laura decided to give the poor man a break.
Jack had been a great source of support and comfort for her, but when they sat down on the couch together, she noticed he'd begun to grow quiet.
He appeared pensive, as if something was on his mind. When she questioned him about it, he took a few long moments for him to gather his thoughts.
"I need to tell you something," Jack said, after getting himself a Sam Adams Lager beer, and sitting beside Laura on the couch in his apartment.
“OK.”
"It’s been on my mind since before we met, and I need to get it off my chest. I'm afraid that it might change the way you feel about me—and about us."
"Nothing could possibly make that happen,” she said, taking his hand in her own and squeezing it. “I love you. You know that, right?"
"Laura, I feel horribly guilty about how Bob died. I—well, I was responsible for his death. It was sort of my fault that Bob was killed."
"What?" Laura cried out.
Impossible. How could that be true?
"Not literally, of course,” Jack said, putting his beer down. “I'd never hurt him... but I was the one who sent him out on his last mission. He didn't want to go, but he’d been slacking off. It wasn't fair to the others, so I pulled rank and ordered him to go. When he returned, he was mortally wounded. I couldn't save him. Nobody could."
Laura recoiled as anger boiled up inside of her. How could Jack have kept something this huge from her?
Before her own recent confession to Jack, she'd been so filled with remorse for carrying the disgraceful secret that she'd never really loved Bob. Yet she'd stuck her neck out, risking Jack's judgment and rejection.
She'd carried that secret since Bob's death. She'd felt so friggin ashamed about falling for Jack. She felt guilty for being happy while Bob was dead, but this? This?
This was really and truly screwed up.
Overwhelmed with feelings of betrayal, Laura’s anger spiked.
"You?” she gasped. “You sent him out to get killed?"
"It wasn't like that," said Jack. "We all had jobs to do, we all did our share. I told Bob to get out there and do what he had to do. That was my job. Laura, anyone who went on that patrol might have been killed—I had no way of knowing. Every person on patrol risks life and limb. I'd gone out countless times, myself. We all did."
Laura, who had a hot temper—especially when feeling hormonal—totally lost it.
"That's sick! That's just fucking sick." She jumped up off the couch. "You warmongers! That’s what you government murders are—war junkies! All you do is send kids out to 'do their job' and if they don't get killed, they end up killing some other poor kid."
"C'mon, that's not fair."
"That's not fair?" Laura turned on him, livid. "Bullshit! What's not fair was that Bob was a good guy and he didn't deserve this and he didn't need some prick sending him out there to get blown away. You ordered him to go and that makes you responsible."
Jack stood up. "Laura, I was doing my job."
"That's the same fucking excuse that every asshole uses. That's bullshit. You have to do the right thing, job or not. You got him killed."
"You’re not exactly Miss Perfect either. Didn't you tell me that you didn't love—?"
"How dare you! Don't you fucking dare throw that back at me!" Laura pointed at him with an angry finger, while her other hand slipped her shoes on. "Don't you dare! My little guilt trip has nothing on this. I felt bad about not being everything I thought I should be for him. You fucking killed him."
"Laura—"
"Don't talk to me." Yanking her bag up over her shoulder, she felt the heaviness within. "Don't ever talk to me again."
She stalked out the door, slamming it behind her.
Chapter 48.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Jack ran after Laura, pushed open the door and stood in the hall. She was gone.
Dammit. Why had he taken off his shoes? He quickly ran back into the room to grab them. God, he was an idiot.
Way to pick your time and place, Jack.
Laura had been on edge already after visiting Bob’s grave, yet he’d selfishly plowed ahead without considering her own state of mind. Now he hurt her, and may even have lost her.
Why the Hell did you tell her that, dumbass?
Jack
knew why he’d confessed, of course. He couldn't stand the thought of this secret standing between them. They had a lifetime ahead of them and he wanted it to be based on honesty and openness.
Jack bent over, slipped a sneaker on, and tied the laces.
But why now?
Laura had shown him her vulnerable side. She had her own strong feelings of guilt and remorse, and she’d let them out.
It was good that she did, it was a sign of trust. They were on line together. It was only natural she share her regrets with him.
Jack wanted to reciprocate, to open up and bare his heart and soul to her. But, his timing clearly sucked.
She was already upset and then I nail her with this shit! How did I think she'd react? My poor girl. I've got to find her.
Jack felt their connection—not just on a physical level, but emotionally and spiritually too. She felt comfortable with him and he was comfortable with her. It felt right to tell her the truth.
Besides, she was so wrapped up in her own misery. Jack thought it might've been helpful for her to know she wasn't the only one taking a guilt trip.
Bullshit. You just thought it was the time to lay it out. She wouldn’t blame you since she was blaming herself, too. Selfish, selfish, selfish.
Jack stood up after tying his other sneaker.
Maybe his motives weren't pure as fresh snow, but he hadn't meant for her to freak out about it.
What did you expect her to do? You'd admitted sending her husband to his death.
Jack suddenly recalled his snarky comment: “You’re not exactly Miss Perfect either.” Jesus. Mr. Tactful, he wasn’t.
The conversation he was having with himself wasn’t making him feel any better. He shook his head. Laura had warned him she had a temper.
"Fuck," Jack said out loud.
He looked around for a weapon. All he had was a Swiss army knife. That wouldn't be much help if there was a murdering psychopath on the loose.
What would he do with that? Corkscrew Jonah to death?
Of course, Laura's ex probably wouldn't be out there, but the way everything had suddenly gone to crap, he wouldn't be surprised. Jack wished he had a gun, and even more importantly, he prayed the douchebag didn’t have a gun.
