Unraveled (Woodlands)

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Unraveled (Woodlands) Page 26

by Frederick, Jen


  “He always had a way with women and was notorious for sleeping around. No one liked him much, which was why his coke use was eventually leaked to superiors. He’d done it plenty of times in the bathroom before so this time he was caught because someone was sick of his shit.”

  “Maybe one of the members of his platoon reported him?”

  “Yeah, who knows. Did us all a favor. When I saw him, all the shit that happened with Carrie came back and I just got scared.” I swallowed, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t go down.

  “So you asked him to come over and what?” This time I heard the pain in her voice and I felt gutted.

  “God, baby, no way. I was drunk and spouting off shit to Bo. I had no idea Drake was there. I went into the house, texted you, and passed out. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a pile of drool and Adam was standing over me telling me that Drake’s at your place. I raced over there and some guy let me in. I pounded on your door but…” I left the rest unsaid.

  “What happened to Ethan?”

  “I went home and beat the shit out of him. Noah and Bo kicked him out.” I didn’t tell her that Tucker had come and struck me a few times too. “I had no idea he hit you. None.”

  “Did he tell you that he’d hit me? What he said to me?”

  “No.” I forced myself not to tense up. “But I can imagine that it wasn’t good. I fucked up, Sam. I didn’t send Drake to you, but I didn’t prevent him from going, and it’s not like I didn’t have second thoughts. But I don’t have those doubts now.”

  “He said he would tell you he succeeded.”

  “Ah shit, baby. I wouldn’t have believed him.” As I said the words I realized the truth of it. I trusted Sam and nothing Ethan Drake or anyone else could say would change my mind.

  “I’m sorry, too,” she said.

  “What for?” This surprised me. She had nothing to be sorry for.

  “Because I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I wouldn’t open the door and I wouldn’t see you before I left.”

  “Baby, you got nothing to be sorry about. But…” I hesitated but figured this was the time for getting our shit out, “…what made you change your mind?”

  She drew her finger over my chest, making me catch my breath and stirring parts in my lower body. I drew away slightly so I didn’t start jabbing her with an inappropriate erection.

  “I was just tired of sitting on my thumb, you know? I figured if you told me to take a hike, I’d just get a hotel room and go about my business.”

  “What business is that?” I held my breath, not sure what I wanted to hear anything other than “I love you and I want to stay in your bed forever.” Too bad that wasn’t a real job.

  “I’ve applied to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising here in San Diego—it’s a top twenty art school, you know.”

  I did not know this. “Um, I was going to come to Central and go to college with you,” I confessed.

  “Gray Phillips. You belong in the Marines.” She sat up, the sheets falling down to her waist. Was my boner inappropriate now? I couldn’t tell because she was naked and her tits were heaving in front of me, and I hadn’t seen her in two long, lonely months. I leaned closer and kissed her collarbone, testing the waters. When she didn’t move away, I drifted lower. “Are you listening to me?”

  “Well, I can hear what you’re saying, but my ability to process information has shut down.” My mouth was now at the top of her breast. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are?”

  She hmmmed. “I don’t think so. Go on.” Reclining on the bed, the discussion about who was moving where with whom was brushed aside so I could properly worship her body.

  “Your breasts are like...are peaches overused? I mean, because they are kind of peach in color and they taste delicious. I like a good peach.” I licked the tip of one nipple and then the other, blowing on them to see her quiver in response.

  “This is not one of your better dirty-talking efforts, Gray,” she said, but her breathlessness gave her away.

  “Okay, how about, I can’t wait until you’re riding my face as I eat you to a screaming orgasm?”

  “I think you’ve used that one with me before,” she joked. We both laughed.

  “Only cuz it’s true all of the time.” I hadn’t realized sex could be this much fun.

  I finally let her rest after our third round, but I couldn’t sleep. The last time I’d been beside her, mind buzzing, I was scared out of my mind because of my feelings for her. This time, I was still full of emotion, but it was relief, gratitude, pure pleasure. Hugging her close to me, I wondered how I could’ve been so stupid to allow anything to come between us, particularly me. And I vowed then and there that I’d do everything in my power to make her happy for the rest of her life.

  Later Samantha awoke, probably because she was hungry. Her stomach growled, and I took that as a sign.

  “Chinese okay?” I asked as I headed to the phone to order something.

  “Sure. Can I use the shower?”

  “Anything here you want, it’s yours, baby.”

  She made some sound in a return—a laugh, a snort—I’m not sure. I didn’t care though. I was just so fucking happy she was with me. I’d just gotten done ordering about five full dishes off the menu because I was starved and she was obviously hungry by the sound of her stomach when I heard a scream from the shower. Running toward her, I swiped the Colt, my personal piece, from the nightstand and threw open the bathroom door.

  “What the hell?” I yelled.

  A dripping wet hand thrust out of the shower curtain holding my shower gel. “It smells like you in here.”

  I turned, put my gun away, and came back. When I returned, Sam had her head out of the curtain, blinking wet drops of water out of her eyes. She looked like a kitten left out in the rain, and I wanted to lick all those drops away.

  “You screamed because it smells like me? Is it that bad?” I leaned against the vanity, arms crossed and ankles crossed, torn between amusement and exasperation.

  “I’ve always wondered if you wore a cologne but the hints of a scent were always so subtle. Sometimes I smelled it and other times I didn’t. It was never overpowering. Always exactly the right amount applied. Sometimes smells get so strong at the bar, but you always had the right amount—tantalizing. I just wanted to lick you all over.”

  My nonchalant stance changed instantly. I stalked closer until I was just inches away. “I’m getting a clear shower curtain so I can see your sexy body while you shower.”

  “Why don’t you just get in here?”

  “Not sore? I thought I worked you hard already.”

  “You did, but I still want you.” Her eyes were dark with sexual promise. She was love and temptation in one small, irresistible package. I shucked my clothes and climbed in with her.

  Sam rubbed her hands over my chest and smiled up at me. “You know you’re my adventure.”

  Lifting her into my arms so I could kiss her properly, I said, “And you know I’ll keep you safe.”

  THE NEXT MORNING I TOOK her to the knitting shop.

  “I’m surprised we left the apartment,” Sam cooed in my ear. She leaned over the console of my truck as far as the seatbelt would allow. It was the first time I’d wished I had bench seats, but then maybe it was a good thing there was a barrier between us. I had a hard time keeping my hands off her.

  “As much as I’d like to have a repeat of this morning…” I paused, remembering the vision of Sam bent over the kitchen table, her red, polka-dot dress pushed up right over her ass so I could drill her from behind. Reaching down, I adjusted my now-hard dick. At this rate, I’d have to sit in the truck for at least ten minutes before I could face Mrs. Bends and her daughter. “Anyway, I wanted to show you something.”

  I’d packed the rest of the knitting stuff in a bag and carried it out to the truck while Sam was showering. “What happened to the flag you were working on?”

  “Oh I ended up finishing it. I j
ust knitted a blue background and then crocheted a bunch of stars and tacked them onto the blue background. One of these days, I’m going to figure out the star pattern though and knit it. Just for fun.” Her fingers were running down the side of my abdomen, tracing out the pattern of my muscles. The whisper-soft touch was distracting me. “And I gave the afghan to my local VA. It’s about all I worked on these past two months. I’m behind in all my other projects.”

  "Ah." What the hell? That she'd finish her project before I got to her never occurred to me. She hadn't worked on it in over two years, and she’d whipped the fucker into shape in two months? I had not planned for this. Squeezing the steering wheel, I wondered where else I could take her, but we were already there.

  "Oh look there's a yarn shop."

  Sighing, I pulled into Knit Together.

  "We don't have to stop. I can get yarn anytime.” She smiled at me and stretched out her arms, making an interesting outline around her breasts. “I’m going to have a lot of time on my hands.”

  “What do you want to do after this?”

  “Probably look for a place to live.”

  “There might be someone in my apartment complex who has a place. Will you let me check that out for you?”

  “Sure.” She smiled, and I was so overwhelmed by emotion, I couldn’t really speak. Unbuckling her seatbelt, I pulled her into my lap and buried my head in her neck. She held me, soothed me, and brought me back to life again. I didn’t cry…exactly, but I held her tight and hoped she realized how precious she was to me.

  We may have sat like that forever if she hadn’t pushed away and said, “So even though I said you didn’t have to stop, do you mind if we go in? We are in the parking lot.”

  I chuckled and unlocked the door. Holding her to me while I climbed out, I set her down next the truck door. “Hold on.” In the back seat, I pulled out the pack and then slung it over my shoulder. Placing a hand at the small of her back, I ushered her into the shop.

  “Sergeant Phillips,” Mrs. Bend cried out when we were inside. Sam had started to look at some yarn balls on a front table display but quickly abandoned them to look first at Mrs. Bend and then at me. I bent down so Mrs. Bend could give me an obligatory kiss in greeting. Holding out my hand to Sam, I drew her close to my side and introduced them.

  “Mrs. Bend, this is my girlfriend, Sam, the one I told you about. Sam, this is Mrs. Bend. She and her daughter Dorothy have been helping me with something.” I let the pack drop to the floor and then knelt down on one knee to pull out the sad mat of yarn I’d created. Mrs. Bend had her hands up by her mouth, and I could see out of the periphery of my eyes that everyone in the store had turned toward us. Sam’s head was cocked to the side as if I were some strange bug she’d found on the floor and she wasn’t sure if she should crush it or sweep it outside with the trash.

  Feeling embarrassed by my effort, I crushed the knitting in my hand and thought frantically of a way to get out of this. What had I been thinking? I started to stuff it back into the pack and stand, but Sam’s hands stopped me.

  “What is it?” The caring in her voice had me dropping my head. While I was pissed off at myself for spending so many years avoiding relationships because of the number Carrie had done to me, I was grateful too, because otherwise I wouldn’t have met Sam, wouldn’t have fallen in love with her, and wouldn't have the gift of her love in return. She’d made every effort to keep me in her life and I had to show her how willing I was to make her part of my life, forever.

  Pulling out the project, I held it out to her. That’s my heart in your hands, I thought. No one in the store said a word. It was as if we were all holding our collective breaths.

  And then…then Sam started to sob. “Oh God, Sam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what I’d done, but I was damn sorry for it. Actually I’d done so many shitty things that I probably couldn’t say those words enough. She allowed me to cradle her in my arms. Sound burst all around us. Mrs. Bend was trying to explain that I was a dear boy, and Dorothy was fluttering around looking for tissues.

  I didn’t know if I should take Sam to the back where there was a sofa or out to my truck. What I did know was that I wasn’t letting go of her.

  Pushing away from me slightly, Sam made the decision for me. Wiping her tears with the backs of her hand, she held the blue bit of yarn between us. “Did you make this for me?”

  I nodded. “It’s the stars portion of your afghan. Mrs. Bend was trying to teach me your interstitial—no, intarsia—technique. See,” I pointed to a blotch of white, “that’s supposed to be a star.”

  She started laughing and crying at the same time. “This is about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Through her tears she beamed at me. “You really do love me, don’t you, Gray Phillips?”

  “I really do, Samantha Anderson. More than the world has stars, I love you.”

  I wasn’t an officer and not much of a gentleman, but I could carry the shit out of stuff. Scooping Sam into my arms, I carried her out the Knit Together shop.

  “So much better than the Lion yarn trunk show, Margo.”

  EPILOGUE

  Samantha

  "IF YOU AREN'T READY IN the next minute, I'm leaving without you," I yelled down the hall. My roommate Karen was still primping in the bathroom. We were both on our way to meet the boat down at the Dock. Karen's girlfriend was in the Navy. The Navy carried the Marines everywhere, or almost everywhere, so if a Navy guy comes over to the Marine base everyone thanks him for the "ride."

  Pausing in front of the entryway mirror, I double-checked my appearance. Karen had used a flat iron to make big beach waves in my hair, and I'd applied eyeliner, mascara, and a little blush. I probably didn't need the blush. My cheeks were red with excitement. No lipstick, Karen counseled, because Gray would eat it all off in the first five seconds of getting off the boat. That made me more excited than it probably should have.

  The six-month separation had been difficult because it came so soon, just a couple months after I’d arrived in San Diego. Gray had re-enlisted and then got sent to the Phillippines. His duties included drinking snake venom with the Philippine Army, at least according to one of his platoon members. Out of all the tall tales that his friends liked to joke about, that was actually one I believed.

  Karen's girlfriend was a medic, and we’d met when I was looking for an apartment to rent. Gray said it made sense to room with someone to defray the apartment costs, particularly when I wasn't going to be spending a lot of time there. The military frowned upon single men cohabiting. It would've been easier for Karen and her girlfriend to get by together, but since Rose had come out, they’d decided not to push it.

  It made for a perfect set up. Rose spent most of her time with Karen in our apartment, and I spent most of my time with Gray in his. None of us were "living" together in violation of the unwritten rules of the Corps, but I hadn’t slept one entire night in my apartment. Even with Gray gone, I liked to sleep in our bed, wrapped in his scent, surrounded by his things.

  It was hard on Gray to be gone. He struggled with his issues of jealousy and trust, so I did what I could to allay those concerns. When we Skyped, which we could do regularly, I gave him a general rundown of my day, including who I might have seen or run into. He never once asked, trying hard to show me how much he trusted me and how much he'd grown, but why torment him, I thought. Besides I liked sharing what I'd been doing. It made us seem closer even though we were miles apart.

  Today he was coming home, though, and I wanted to make his homecoming special. I waxed, shaved, plucked, and perfumed every inch of my body. Underneath his favorite dress—the red-and-white polka-dotted one I wore when I first returned to him—I had brand new panties and a red-and-white polka-dotted lace bra. My three-inch heels would make it easier for him to kiss me, I figured. I dabbed a bit of my favorite citrus perfume on the backs of my ears and a little in the small valley of my breasts. Over the top I added a white cardigan. It was colder
now, and I needed it.

  Karen finally charged out of her bedroom dressed in high-waisted grey checked slacks and a fire-engine-red poet's shirt with billowy sleeves. Her hair was styled Katherine Hepburn-esque with soft waves molded close to her head. She looked like the embodiment of a 1950s glamorous actress.

  Karen said that she always felt the need to look more beautiful than any other woman standing on the dock because Rose, as a lesbian in the Navy, felt like she had to do and be better than anyone else just to be perceived the same. Times were changing though. Gray didn't care and many of his contemporaries didn't either, although there were definite disagreements about women in combat infantry. Gray acknowledged, after a heated argument with Rose, that it was the men who'd need to change their attitudes but thought that it wasn't something that could be done overnight or even in Gray’s lifetime. Rose and Gray agreed to disagree, but that they’d remained friends was an achievement for both.

  "You look great," Karen said, giving me a once over. I smoothed back a lock of curled hair and she batted my hand down. "No mussing. That's for Gray to do."

  "I'm nervous," I admitted as I drove my Rover toward the base. "I feel like we’re meeting for the first time. Like it's a crazy blind date."

  "I know, isn't it great?" She laughed wildly. "Your relationship can never get old. He steps off the boat and the bloodlust surges through you like you were shot with a lightning bolt."

  "Can't wait." It was the truth. Karen and I had argued over who would drive, and finally I told her that if I didn't then I'd probably have Gray undressed and in a compromising position within two minutes of him being in the Rover—and only Gray would appreciate that. She'd conceded that maybe my need was just slightly more elevated than hers. Although she did ask me if I didn't self-pleasure as she figured Gray had been doing.

  "As if that's even the same thing," I had scoffed.

  I'd masturbated plenty while Gray was gone. We'd actually bought a couple vibrators for me to use and, while I never would admit this to anyone—not Eve, not Karen, no one—I’d used the vibrator on myself a couple of times while Gray and I Skyped. Gray just sat there, his eyes burning like crazy, headphones on so no one could hear my pants and then my pleas for him to touch me and finally my cries when I came.

 

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