Home for Her Curves

by Sara Hazel

  But I can’t. My mom needs me to help her back in Willow Hills, the only place Molly doesn’t want to be.

  There’s no way I can tell her the truth yet, though. Instead, I twist the truth again. “I can’t wait to see Europe without the Army breathing down my back.”

  I really would like to travel with Molly. Just not anywhere as much as it sounds like she expects it to happen.

  Molly

  Something’s changed.

  The trip to the city is still perfect. It’s still the best date I’ve ever been on. Having a man talk to me about my future dreams while holding my hand as we walk around in public is so much better than some guy trying to get me somewhere dark and isolated so he can cop a feel and try to get me to suck his dick.

  Call me old fashioned.

  Still, something’s changed in the last few minutes.

  I replay the events in my head.

  He’d paid for the ice cream, but only after refusing my offer to buy it. He hadn’t accepted my argument that I should pay since he’d driven us to the city.

  He’s still holding my hand.

  Maybe he doesn’t like that kind of public affection, though.

  I pull my hand away, pretending to fuss with my hair. As soon as I lower it to my side, his fingers find mine again.

  We have been talking a lot about my wants and dreams. Maybe he’s bored.

  I know so little about him I don’t really know where to start. Grasping hold of one of the few things I know, I ask, “What did you do in the military?”

  After a short hesitation, he simply says, “Special Forces.”

  I wait a few more seconds before realizing he doesn’t intend to say more. Apparently, a burning desire to talk about himself hasn’t caused the shift in mood.

  Unable to handle the silence and genuinely concerned about his past, I press on. “Oh, that sounds dangerous. What exactly did you do?”

  If I thought the mood had chilled earlier, it turns practically icy now.

  But he does answer. A lot of guys I’ve dated won’t say a word unless they are in the mood to brag about themselves.

  “Several extractions.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “So, let’s say some important intelligence resource has his cover blown while in hostile territory, right? Someone has to get him—that’s a gender-neutral him, there are several women involved in that line of work. Anyway, so someone has to get them before they are captured and tortured—”

  I gasp. “Oh my God. You did that?”

  He flashes a melancholy smile. “A whole team of us, but yes. Most of the time it wasn’t nearly as bad as it sounds. We were frequently in and out of the pick-up point before anyone knew the agent had notified us of the problem.”

  “That’s good, I guess. But you couldn’t know that while you were working. Sounds very stressful.”

  His halfhearted shrug breaks my heart. “Adrenaline can get you through a lot of stuff. The danger never really got to me. All the training we went through made us very good at our jobs. The times that still give me nightmares were the few times we got there too late…”

  He trails off, lost in bad memories.

  I don’t press him. “I’m so sorry. I wish I knew how I could make it better for you.”

  He leans over and kisses the top of my head. “You already have, Molly. Last night was the first good night of sleep I’ve had in ages. Having you in my bed scared the nightmares away.”

  The praise warms my heart. “Sleeping in your bed was pretty great for me, too.” His spine stiffens. It’s such a subtle difference I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been standing so close and watching him so intently. I quickly add, “Not just the sex. That was great of course, but for the first time in ages, I felt really in control of my life. Like, anything I want, I can have. I don’t know. I’m probably explaining it all wrong.”

  The tension leaves his shoulders. “Don’t be embarrassed about struggling to find the words. Since we’ll be together forever, we’ll have plenty of time to figure it out. I’m glad whatever I did helped.”

  Encourage by his words, I say, “I think a lot of it has to do with the way society made me believe I’d never amount to anything unless I could use my body to find a man. It’s a very confining way to try to live. Especially since guys never really seem to like my shape the way they like other girls’ bodies. Even more so since my dad barely lets me talk to any guys.”

  I nearly drop my ice cream cone when he pulls me to a stop and kisses me right in the middle of the city. We make people walk around us for what must be a full minute before breaking apart.

  “They are idiots. But I understand what you are saying. Any time people only value us for the superficial, they ignore who we really are, and make us less human.”

  “Right. It’s very frustrating. Especially when I barely know myself most days. Living in Willow Hills, and especially with my dad, is so restricting. How am I supposed to become the woman I think I can be when I don’t even know what opportunities are out there?”

  “I understand that. Back when I was your age, I thought I knew who I was destined to be. Then, life threw me a curveball when I threw away that path and joined the Army. Then everything changed again when I got hurt and was discharged. I thought I knew my next plan, but then I met this incredible woman who threw me another curveball. I guess the key to everything is being willing to roll with what life throws at you.”

  I’m the incredible woman!

  I want to shout with joy, but choose a more mature response. After eating the last of my ice cream cone, I squeeze his crotch and whisper into his ear. “Take me home, Deacon. I need you inside me so bad I could scream.”

  7

  Deacon

  The moan that comes out of Molly’s mouth when she wakes and the way she stretches her body make my dick twitch with anticipation. I focus on my old high school football coach’s ugly face to help keep things under control.

  “What are you laughing at?” she asks, stretching again and causing the sheet to expose her breasts.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and continue tying my running shoes.

  How can I explain to her that I was wondering how often guys at the high school imagine Maxwell’s face while trying to escape an embarrassing situation during school. I shake my head. “Nothing. Just happy to have you in my life. I’m going out for a run. Want to come with?”

  “Will you be mad if I say I just want to stay here?”

  “Does that mean you’ll be snooping around the place to find my dirty secrets?”

  She yawns as she climbs off the bed. As she walks toward the bathroom, she scratches her incredible ass. “Of course.”

  She leaves the bathroom door half-open while she pees.

  “I’ll only be gone an hour,” I say. “I can take you out for breakfast afterward. If you can’t wait that long, just leave me a note telling me where you’ll be.”

  “Only an hour? Are you a robot?”

  “The aches in my body say otherwise. Just trying to do my best to hold off my decay.”

  It’s not really the truth. The main reason I run is for my brain. One thing I learned over my decades of training for both football and the Special Forces is how beneficial a good cardio workout is for my mental health.

  “Hurry back, robot. I saw the box of pancake batter and some bacon. I’ll cook it up here for us. If we’re going to leave home, I’d prefer we go back into the city. Maybe go to a museum or catch a play? How’s that sound?”

  “Here isn’t good enough? Am I going to have to take you somewhere incredible every day to keep you happy?”

  Molly emerges from the bathroom after washing her hands and glares at me. “What did you say?”

  “Fuck. Sorry. That sounded worse than I meant.” That’s a lie. It was exactly what I’d meant to say, but I have zero interest in getting into a fight right now. “Just ignore me, okay? After my workout, breakfast, some coffee, and a few minutes kissin
g you, I’ll be back to my normal self.”

  She looks doubtful but doesn’t argue. “In that case, hurry up and get out of here. I’ll take a shower, do my snooping, and start making breakfast…and coffee.”

  She disappears back into the bathroom, leaving me alone and craving a kiss to prove things are okay.

  I sigh. “I’m not going to take my keys. Come lock the door behind me.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it right after I get the water started.”

  Certain no last-second kiss is coming to smooth things over, I march out the door, descend the stairs leading to the alley out back, and start my jog. Before I reach the end of the block, I discover I forgot my headphones. A growl escapes me. I pick up my pace, hoping to let exhaustion drown my thoughts.

  This little town is entirely too big for my comfort, I find as I come to a stop at a red light and watch three cars pass with gaps just small enough it forces me to wait until the light changes.

  And Molly wants to move somewhere bigger.

  While I wait, I take a look around my childhood town. The place that had sparked my own desire for seeking adventure which had resulted in me seeing many foreign countries looks tiny and rundown. Has it always been like this but I was too naive to notice?

  I nearly jump out of my skin when a finger taps my shoulder.

  “Fuck, you scared me,” I say as a way of greeting before even turning.

  “Good ol’ Deacon,” says Pamela, one of my ex-girlfriends who’d nearly become a whole lot more. “Aren’t you just looking good enough to eat?”

  I roll my eyes at her fake Southern accent. “That sounds much less painful than what you did to me last time I saw you.”

  She purses her lips into a pouty shape. “Bygones?”

  I snort. “You kicked me in the nuts, Pam. But sure. As long as bygones means we say ‘Bye’ and then you are gone.”

  She drags fingernails down the outside of my arm.

  I look for a gap in the traffic and wonder when we started having traffic in Willow Hills. “Not interested.”

  “I heard you were building that big old place on the outskirts of town. Looks too big for one lonesome, virile man to be stuck there all by himself.”

  “Not interested,” I repeat.

  “You could use a lady’s touch.” She cups my dick. “So could your house.”

  The light finally changes color.

  “Not interested,” I snarl as I swat away her hand.

  I start running again. Within a few moments, I’m pondering the differences between the Pamelas of the world and Molly.

  Sure, Molly wants—no, needs—to see the world. But she has never really made me feel like she was with me because of that. It’s always felt more like she wanted to share the experience with me. Her first instinct at the ice cream shop had been to reach for her wallet, not mine.

  Molly doesn’t even know about the new place. She seems perfectly content in the tiny studio apartment as long as we’re there together.

  Is that really so bad?

  Why does it feel like I’m about to do something really stupid and run away from the most incredible thing to ever happen in my life?

  I stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “No. I’m not throwing this away.”

  Instead of running away from my fears, I turn and run straight back to Molly.

  But when I get back home, Molly isn’t alone.

  Molly

  Somehow our little fight makes me feel even closer to Deacon. Sure, we’ll have disagreements in the future, but we’re already finding ways to work through them without the world falling apart.

  I scrub shampoo against my scalp and scrunch up my nose at the smell. We’ll have to have a conversation someday soon about which scents work best. Even rough and tumble men shouldn’t smell like this mess of chemicals.

  I turn my back to the water and rinse away the shampoo.

  My thoughts turn from our first fight to our love-making the night before and the feel of his thick cock thrusting into me. My nipples pucker at the memories. When I try to give them a squeeze, they slip from between my fingers.

  I consider sliding my hand between my legs and letting my mind run wild, but I’d rather wait until Deacon returns so I can get the real thing.

  I quickly clean the rest of my body, turn off the water, and dry. I’d love to be naked when I greet him when he returns, but I don’t want the bacon grease to burn my skin.

  His pile of t-shirts is still in a box by the bed. I grab the top one, an old Army t-shirt. When I pull it on, it comes down nearly to my knees. It makes a perfect nightgown.

  I whistle a random tune I improvise on the spot as I twirl my way through the studio, making my way to the fridge and start gathering my ingredients. Only then do I remember he said he’d be gone an hour.

  Do people really run that long for fun?

  It sounds like torture to me. I can’t argue with the results, though. If that’s part of what it takes to keep his body so hard, I can learn to live without him by my side for an hour each day.

  I put the food back in the fridge and brush my teeth.

  He probably lifts weights, too.

  Two hours apart? It feels like that will be a lifetime to me right now.

  Needing to kill some more time, I text Olivia.

  Sex is incredible and all, but have you ever had a first fight and realized you love him even more?

  The reply comes back almost immediately.

  Stop bragging about sex, you bitch! I can’t believe I’m the last virgin in this horrible town. Ask if he has a brother.

  I smile as I sit down at the card table in the kitchen section of the studio.

  I can’t right now. He’s out working out. Getting hot and sweaty. God, I can’t wait until he gets home and takes off his t-shirt and flashes those shiny muscles.

  I hate you.

  She quickly sends a follow-up.

  Not really, bitch. I’m happy for you. I just need some dick in my life. :(

  I hear footsteps in the hallway outside the studio.

  I’m sure we’ll find you someone soon. Gotta go. He’s back early. Must have been having trouble running with that big erection.

  I silence my phone before placing it facedown on the table. Practically skipping, I make my way to the door, trying to decide whether I’ll look cuter if I greet him in the t-shirt or in the nude.

  In the end, I’m glad I settled on the t-shirt.

  I should have listened to Deacon when he’d left. I’d been so looking forward to the shower, I’d forgotten to lock the door.

  “Unbelievable. I can’t believe you’re really here. I thought I’d raised you better than this.”

  I tug at the bottom of the t-shirt, wishing I’d at least put on my bra and panties. “Dad?”

  He locks the deadbolt behind him.

  8

  Deacon

  I knock on my door, ready to kiss Molly and not stop until we are both breathless and exhausted from a day of love-making.

  Nobody answers.

  I knock again. “Molly, it’s me. Open the door.”

  A voice an octave too deep to belong to her answers. “Go away!”

  Hell no!

  I pound on the door. “This is my home! Open this goddamn door or I’m calling the cops.”

  The bolt slides open. “Deacon?”

  I burst through the opening door. “Max? Get the hell out of here. If I’m not allowed on your football field, you certainly aren’t—”

  “I came to take my daughter home.”

  His words are a punch to my gut. That’s why Molly had been hanging around the football field the day we’d met. After all the things that happened to tear Max and me apart as kids, any hope of us reconciling has certainly been flushed down the toilet after I slept with his daughter.

  Given the choice between patching things between us and staying with his daughter, the option is obvious.

  “You can’t take her away. I love her
.”

  Max looks back and forth between the two of us. “No, no, no. This isn’t possible. Molly, this guy is evil. He cost me everything. College. A chance to play in the pros. Everything that mattered. Come home with me.”

  Poor Molly looks like she’s about to break down and cry because the two men she cares about are making her choose which one to cut out of her life.

  Anger builds inside me. I lash out at my old friend. “You never had a chance to go pro, dude. I know we dreamed about it as kids, but you just didn’t have the arm. The only reason Michigan even recruited you was because they knew it would help get me to go to school there. That’s why when I switched to UCLA they pulled the offer.”

  “Why did you leave me like that? We could have made a real run at greatness there. Do you even know where I ended up?”

  I smile. “Montana. And it seems like it was a great fit. You started all four years, led the conference in yards and touchdowns your last two. You were named Offensive Player of the Year in your conference your senior year. You had a great career.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “I checked the box scores every week. I even came to one of your playoff games when it was close to Los Angeles. I wanted to come to say hi afterward but I just couldn’t after how mad you were at me. Don’t forget what you did that convinced me to go play somewhere else.”

  Molly clears her throat. We both turn to face her. “What’s happening here? You two know each other?”