“No!” she screamed attempting to pull her feet up onto the bed, but Zach held them firmly in his hands.
“Why not? Are you afraid they do stink?”
Shaking her head and squirming she said, “I am horribly ticklish. I can’t stand to have my feet touched.”
“Oh really?” Zach said with a gleam in his eyes, curling his fingers into the tickling pose.
“Don’t you dare, Zachary Winters! You’ll be sorry. I will get you back when you least expect it. I’ll put your hand in warm water when you’re sleeping…I’ll put itching powder in your jock strap...I’ll—.
He withdrew his hand and slid it up her leg. “Yes, yes, I get it. The big, bad soldier is an itty, bitty baby.”
She sat up and grabbed him around the shoulders, “Come up here and say that, big boy.”
Zach crawled up the bed and the moment he covered her she pulled a maneuver and flipped them so she straddled him. Yes, he might be a big man, but she was a trained soldier and he wasn’t expecting it. However, he flipped her right back in two seconds flat and play time ended. Lust fired his gaze and he took her mouth with a vengeance.
Clothes went flying in every direction, they couldn’t get naked fast enough. This time there would be no slow build up, no foreplay and games. Hot and raw. Fast and rough. As soon as they were skin to skin he reached between her legs, her slit soaked with desire, wet and ready for him.
He grasped the base of his cock and rubbed it against her, sliding through her cream and teasing her clit with every stroke. His big cock felt so good pressed against her entrance, thick and veined, the stretch and burn feeling magnificent.
She wanted it hard and fast, but he would never hurt her, so he kept his strokes measured until she had adjusted to his girth. Pull back and thrust, a little more each time, so good, so full, until he was balls deep inside her and groaning his pleasure.
She grasped his ass, kneading the rock hard muscles and trying to pull him even deeper inside. “Oh God, Zach. Yes, harder, I need you,” she cried.
His face contorted in a mixture of concentration and pleasure and he pounded into her, holding his weight on his arms so he wouldn’t crush her as she thrust up to meet him. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room along with their cries of ecstasy. Sandra circled her hips, rubbing her clit against his pelvis on each upward stroke. Zach thrust harder, his back arching, arms shaking.
“I can’t hold out much longer, baby.”
“I’m almost there,” she cried, “harder, faster.”
Zach thrust like a man possessed, pistoning in and out of her, the headboard slamming against the wall. Sandra’s orgasm built so high she was almost afraid of the fall. She climbed and climbed, her stomach muscles clenching, her legs shaking, and then she burst. A dam breaking, water flowing freely after being confined for millennia, rushing, roaring, and rolling until it finally fell quiet into a silent pool.
Zach had climaxed with her, and now he had rolled them to their sides and held her in his arms. Her head resting on his chest, his breathing still ragged, sweat soaking his skin.
It took her a minute to get back the ability to speak. She slid a hand to rest over his heart. “Wow.”
“You can say that again,” he murmured.
“Wow.”
He laughed. “I was only kidding.”
“It was worth two wows.”
He tilted her face up to look at him. “You are something else, lady.”
“I hope it’s something good,” she teased.
“It’s something amazing,” he said with a sweet kiss.
How could it be Wednesday already? Zach would be here to pick her up in half an hour and she wasn’t sure she was ready for this. The weekend had been so wonderful. They’d spent all day Sunday on the couch, snuggled up, watching movies, and necking like teenagers. Two nights she’d slept in his arms without nightmares, and it had continued when she came home. She’d made it four nights in a row without one! Last night the dream had returned, but four nights was a record since the sniper attack and she focused on that.
Sandra knew Dr. Haslam would see it as significant, but she didn’t want Zach to feel pressured. Didn’t want him to feel responsible for keeping her nightmares at bay. That wasn’t what she wanted to define their relationship. She feared bringing him into her therapy would muddy the waters. Make him see her as a patient, or a cause, instead of his girlfriend.
Gah, she was so fucked up. She wanted—needed, his help and support, but dreaded it. Some soldier she was. Suck it up, buttercup! Squaring her shoulders, she looked in the mirror and stared herself in the eye. “You are strong. You can move on. You are a survivor.” She nodded her head. Yes, she could do this.
Sandra walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee, her momma stood at the stove, and the scent of bacon permeated the room.
Sandy snuck up behind her and grabbed a slice from the paper towel it rested on beside the pan. Momma butted her with a hip. “Get outta here, girl and go sit down. I’ll make you a plate.”
“You know the sneaked pieces always taste better,” Sandy teased.
“Yeah, that’s what Daddy says too.” Her mother laughed. “How do you want your eggs?”
“Basted, of course.”
“Of course.”
Her mom cracked to eggs in the pan of bacon grease and popped a lid on the pan. “What time is Zach due?”
Sandra looked at the clock on the wall. “He should be here in about fifteen minutes.”
“Should I put on some eggs for him?”
“I don’t think we’ll have time for that, and I’m sure he ate already.”
Her mom turned to face her. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Momma. Thanks.”
“Okay.” Her mother plopped the eggs and bacon on a plate and set it on the table in front of Sandy.
“Yum, thank you, Momma. You’re the best.”
“Eat up quick. Your man will be here soon.”
Sandra already shoveled the eggs into her mouth. After almost a year of powdered eggs, farm fresh, straight from the chicken eggs were nirvana. She sopped up the last of the yolks with the crispy bacon when Zach’s knock sounded at the door.
“I’ll get it,” her mother said. “You finish up.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Sandra swallowed the last bite, closing her eyes in enjoyment and went to rinse her dishes and load them into the dishwasher. She would never leave a mess for her mother to clean up. Sounds of Zach and her mother entering the kitchen soon followed. Of course her mother offered to make Zach breakfast.
“I told you we don’t have time, Momma.”
“I know, I know—”
“I appreciate the offer, Mrs. O’Donnell, but Sandy’s right, we really don’t have time.”
Donna patted his cheek. “Call me Donna, sweet boy, or Momma, everyone does.”
“Momma,” Sandra censured.
“What?” Her mother said with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s true.”
“Don’t push,” Sandra said, sotto voice.
“Yes, dear,” her mother replied, not at all deterred.
Sandra looked at Zach and he tried very hard not to laugh. She was glad someone found this funny.
“We better get going,” Sandra said.
“Your chariot awaits, my lady,” Zach said with a bow.
“Funny man.
Sandra kissed her mother’s cheek and grabbed her cane.
“See you later, Momma,” Zach called out, and Sandra punched him in the arm. Her mother laughed like a hyena.
They walked into Dr. Haslam’s office and Zach embraced the woman exclaiming, “Katie, it’s so good to see you.”
Well crap! Just how well did these two know each other?
“Zach, it’s good to see you. Sandra, come on in. Have a seat you two. Can I get you some coffee?”
Sandra nervously perched on the edge of the couch. “You know I always need my coffee, Dr. Haslam.”
“Of course I do, she’s my doctor.”
“What’s up with that, Katie? I know most of your patients call you by your first name.”
“Sandra always seemed more comfortable using the honorific, so I never pushed it. You’re welcome to call me Katie if you like, Sandra.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“So, how have things been this week?” Katie asked giving Sandra a hard look.
“It’s been a much better week. I went four days without nightmares.”
“Really? That’s fantastic. Why do you think? What changed?”
Sandra blushed. “Um, well…I spent the weekend with Zach,” he reached over and took her hand. “I felt safe with him, and no nightmares, it continued for two days after I went home. I’ve been doing the exercises too. The muscle relaxation exercises seem to be helping. Plus, I think getting the immobilizer off helped. I feel more in control.”
Katie frowned at her. “You know control is an illusion. The only thing you can control is your reaction to a situation, you can’t control what happens around you.”
Sandra nodded. “I know, but being able to control my own movements is very freeing. I don’t feel so dependent on others. I don’t feel like I’m such a burden on my mother. I feel more ‘normal.’”
“Normal is relevant too.”
Sandra frowned. “I know that. Why do I feel like you’re twisting all my words? I tell you I’m feeling better and I feel like you’re telling me my feelings aren’t valid.” Anger surged in Sandra’s gut, what the fuck was up with this?
Zach squeezed her hand. “Calm down, Sandy, and listen to what Katie has to say before you get pissed off.”
Great, now they are ganging up on me.
She gave him the stink eye and pulled her hand away, folding her hands in her lap. Just what she’d been afraid of, Zach spoke to her like a patient.
Dr. Haslam sat back in her chair and sighed. “I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, Sandra. Not at all, I just don’t want you to get blindsided. PTSD is a sneaky bastard. Diversion can work for a time, but in the end, the symptoms usually come back and bite you in the ass when you least expect it. Sometimes worse than before. You need to confront what you’re feeling, not suppress it.”
Sandra shook her head. “I’m not suppressing it. I don’t know what you mean.”
“You have to understand that you don’t have control. You will never be able to control events around you. All you can do is control your responses.”
Sandra sat back on the couch and closed her eyes, she thought hard about what Katie said. “Okay, I get that. I’ll keep thinking about it.”
“Add it to your mantras. Control is an illusion. I can only control my response to a situation.”
Sandra nodded, her anger melting away with a deep breath. She reached over and took Zach’s hand. Sorry, she mouthed, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
The rest of the session went well and afterward they had an hour to kill before her P.T. session.
“Let’s get a cup of coffee and go sit in the quad. It’s a beautiful day,” Zach said.
“Sounds great,” Sandra replied. “We need to soak up the vitamin D while we can.”
As they were exiting the building alarm bells began to ring, and then they heard it. A sound that froze Sandra in place, and numbed her soul. Automatic gunfire! Zach hauled her back into the building and behind a potted palm.
Everyone in the lobby scurried for cover, dropping behind desks, benches, planters. The rat-a-tat-tat continued in short bursts, and Sandra sat frozen, staring into space. Transported back to Afghanistan, the shots impacting her body. She trembled and jerked with each shot.
Zach took her arms and shook her. “Sandy, Sandy, look at me.”
She snapped back to the present and gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. “That’s it, little bit. Come back to me. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Sandra nodded. “Sorry,”
“There are going to be injuries. They are going to need our help. Are you up for it?”
Sandra squared her shoulders and nodded her head. “Yes, I can do it.”
The shooting had stopped, less than five minutes had passed and security had neutralized the shooter.
That’s when all hell broke loose and their medical training kicked in. Zach ran for the admission’s desk in the lobby. “First aid kit,” he shouted.
The corporal behind the desk threw him the large plastic case, and he ran for the glass doors. Without a thought, Sandra took off on his heels. She left her cane where it lay and went after Zach to assess the damage.
The beautiful spring day had done them no favors, the courtyard had been crowded and dozens of injured lay on the pristine green lawn. Medical personnel poured out of the hospital doors; they each chose a patient and dove in.
Triage, assess the injuries, stop the blood flow, get the worst to surgery, and stabilize the others so they could wait their turn. Sandra’s worst nightmare come to life. Her pounded and sweat coated her skin. Would she be able to perform in a combat situation again?
Now she had her answer. Nothing mattered but the patients. Her fears evaporated, roughly pushed aside by years of training, it took command. She and Zach worked like a well-oiled machine, moving from patient to patient. A young man in green scrubs lay bleeding profusely from his shoulder. “Get some pressure on that while I take his vitals, Sandra called. “Is it through and through?”
“Yeah,” Zach answered.
“Great, just like mine. He’ll need a new shoulder. Poor bastard.” Just then someone from security walked by, Sandra grabbed his arm. “Corporal,” she asked, glancing toward the sniper, covered in a white sheet not far from where they worked. “Do we know who he is yet? How he got on base?”
The corporal nodded. “Damn domestic dispute. His name is James McNally. He was dating one of the nurses at the hospital and she broke it off. Filed a restraining order against him, and he went bonkers. He got on base as an appliance repairman. It’s his real job, and he even had a valid work order. You couldn’t make this shit up. What a cluster fuck.”
“So, it wasn’t terrorism?”
“No, Sergeant. Just plain old domestic bullshit. Crazy mother fucker.” The corporal walked away.
Sandra looked at Zach. “Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, love does crazy things to people.”
“That’s not love,” she answered
“No, you’re right. It’s not.”
They finished bandaging the young man’s shoulder and moved on to a woman with a leg wound. One by one, they handled each patient until they had all been treated and moved inside.
When it was over she was covered in blood, shaking like a leaf, but standing on her own two feet. She looked around the courtyard, the green grass now tarnished with dried blood, trampled, covered in discarded gauze pads and rubber gloves. Orderlies stooped beginning to collect the debris that littered the ground.
She turned to find Zach staring at her. “Are you okay?” he asked hesitantly.
She gave a slow nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“I could use a hug,” he said.
A small smile curled her lips. “Yeah, me too,” she said, and he opened his arms.
They fell together, finding solace in each other’s embrace. They’d survived unscathed. The beat of Sandy’s heart drummed with love for the amazing man in her arms.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
Six months had passed and the Christmas Momma had talked about in her last letter to Sandra in Afghanistan had arrived. Sandra would get to spend it at home, but she shipped out after the New Year. Back to the sand box for another ten-month tour. Her rehab would be complete and she would be cleared for active duty.
She had gotten her PTSD under control, she rarely had nightmares anymore, and when she did, she knew how to manage them. She and Zach were doing great. Zach, being Ar
my, declared they could handle a long distance relationship without a problem. He knew a soldier’s life, after all. At least they could Skype.
Tonight, Momma’s big Christmas Eve dinner with whole family, and Zach too had the house buzzing. Daddy had cut the biggest pine tree she’d ever seen and Momma had decorated it to the nine’s. There would be both ham and turkey, and so many side dishes they could have fed the whole of the Fort Campbell. They’d be eating leftovers for weeks, but what the hell? Momma did love to cook.
Sandra had ordered Zach a leather bracelet that said I love my soldier. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think it was too corny. She couldn’t wait to give it to him tonight. She had also ordered a sexy little camo teddy, that she knew he would like.
She dressed with care in a green velvet dress with red roses on the bodice and red ankle boots. Her flaming curls falling around her shoulders. Dangling red rose earrings and red bangle bracelets accented the outfit. The perfect Christmas package, she laughed, all done up in red and green.
Sandra walked into the dining room. “Need help setting the table, Momma?”
“Sure, baby. Use the Christmas china.”
“Of course, Momma.” Only her mother had special china just for Christmas. Her mother was kind of Christmas crazy.
She and her mother bustled around setting the table and fixing the hors d’oeuvres while her Daddy sat in the living room and drank eggnog. So not fair. Finally, everything was ready and Sandy sat down with an eggnog of her own, heavy on the bourbon.
“You look beautiful, little girl,” her Daddy said.
“Why thank you, Daddy.”
“That Zach is a lucky man.”
“Aw, Daddy.”
“Well, he is, and he better know it.”
“He does, Daddy. Don’t you be mean to him tonight.”
“I have to be a little mean. It’s my job.”
She kissed his cheek. “You’re such an old phony.”
“I’ll git my shotgun out,” he teased.
“And I’ll shoot you with it,” she lobbied back.
“Brat.”
“Old fart.”
They both laughed and a knock sounded at the door. “Saved by the bell,” her Momma yelled.
Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances Page 83
