The Soldier & The Spy

by Samantha Sommersby

  “Am I hurting you? Shall I stop?”

  “No. It’s just that, this feels different than I remember.” Lillian ran her hands down Jackson’s powerfully muscled back, then brought her knees up, opening herself to him. “You’re so close to me.” She wrapped her legs around his lower back, squeezing the muscles that surrounded him.

  “Oh, Lillian, I want you so much,” he moaned, resting his forehead against hers.

  “You have me. All of me.”

  He leaned back up, his own eyes now glistening with tears from the intense emotions that seemed to be passing between them. “I’m afraid I don’t deserve you.”

  She could feel it building within her. Despite the slow, intimate pace of their lovemaking, her fires were being stoked and restraint was becoming all but impossible. She arched up into him, meeting his last thrust more forcefully as she clutched at his back, scratching it slightly with her nails.

  “Keep that up and I won’t be able to control myself, pet,” he warned.

  “Who said anything about control?” she asked coyly, pushing up again, even harder this time.

  He continued to move above her, biting on his lower lip. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. He was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. He was thrusting deeper now, faster, and she was climbing with him, to impossible heights. She moaned.

  He leaned down, and captured her lips in a searing kiss. As his tongue swept inside her mouth she sucked on it. When he pulled away his eyes were open wide in surprise.

  “Oh, Lillian, you’re going to be the end of me,” Jackson moaned, reaching down between them, finding her swollen clit.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  “Want you to come with me, love,” he whispered into her ear, his voice raspy and passion-filled. “Come with me, Lillian,” he groaned as he licked along the outside shell of her ear. “Come with me!” he demanded biting down on her earlobe, tugging on it with his teeth as he simultaneously pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger.

  She wasn’t sure what was happening, she felt as if she was losing control of her body. Lillian flooded with a feeling of panic as her breathing became more and more of a challenge.

  “Oh, God!” she moaned, her vision clouding. Lillian closed her eyes trying to guard against the dizziness, trying to hold on.

  “No!” he said. “Let go! Let go!”

  And she did. Her orgasm broke through and as she let herself go, Jackson did as well, thrusting once, twice, three times, deeply into her, spilling his seed into her womb.

  Neither of them wanted to move. Jackson hovered over her, gazing into her eyes, their bodies still connected, covered with a slight sheen of perspiration. Finally, as their breathing slowed, Jackson reached up and swept a stray strand of hair out of Lillian’s face, tucking it behind her ear before leaning down and kissing her, tenderly.

  “Was I all right?” she asked.

  “Perfect,” he said pulling away from her.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  “Never.” Jackson laid down alongside of her, wrapping his arms protectively around her. “Never.”

  Lillian sat up, the thin blanket falling down around her waist. “Jackson?”

  “I’m here.”

  Jackson stood near the entrance of the cave.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “The storm has stopped.”

  “You’re not answering my question.”

  “I was thinking,” he said softly.

  “About?”

  “Us,” he responded simply. “I wasn’t… I’m not prepared for you, Lillian.”

  “Do you regret making love with me?”

  “God, no!” he responded, joining her once again on the makeshift bed, enfolding her in his arms. “But this could get complicated.”

  “It could also be wonderful. Who knows, we could make a fabulous team.”

  Jackson ran his hands adoringly down the length of her back. “Our being lovers could be dangerous for you.”

  “I’m a big girl. We’ll be careful.”

  “It’s not a good idea, love. You could get pregnant. You could be with child now.”

  She placed a hand over her taut stomach. “I’m not. It’s fine.”

  “You can’t know that.” Jackson leaned over to pick up his robes.

  “We’ll think of something. We’ve got a long walk back to camp. We’ll have plenty of time to work out a plan.”

  “Lillian, we’re in the middle of a war here. We’re from two different countries, serving two different masters. This isn’t a fairytale. This is real.” Jackson stood up, retrieved her robe, and then held it out to her.

  She sprang to her feet and snatched it from his hand. “Yes! This is real. I am real. I am a real woman with real needs. I know I may never leave this place. I know that one of us, or both of us, could die here.”

  “This could be the end,” he said, solemnly.

  “Or it just might be the beginning.”

  “Beginning?” He slipped on his robe. “I should never have crossed the line. I took advantage.”

  “Jackson Crawford, don’t you dare. Don’t you for one second pretend that we weren’t both perfectly aware of what we were doing. We’re both adults. We’re both free—”

  A pang of guilt stabbed his heart. He wasn’t free, and he hadn’t been for a very long time. The painful memories must have shown on his face.

  “Oh, my God!” Lillian spun around, and hastily slipped her robe over her nude body.

  “It’s not what you think.” Jackson placed a hand on her shoulder. But Lillian shrugged him off, fire in her eyes.

  “You’re married.”

  “Yes.”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I…”

  “What? What? Did it just slip your mind?”

  “No. It didn’t slip my mind. It’s not the kind of thing a man forgets.”

  “Unbelievable. You know what you are? You’re an ass.” Lillian began to gather up the few belongings she had in the cave. “I’m heading back to camp.”

  “You’re cross, I can understand that.”

  “Cross? Cross? You’re married!” she shouted as she stalked over to him, cocked her fist back, and slugged him.

  “Ow!” He brought his hands up to hold his nose, trying to stave off the flow of blood. “You hit me!”

  “Well, you deserved it!”

  “I bloody well did not! Apologize!”

  “Apologize for having sex with me!”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back. She reached down and tore a strip of cloth from the one that had held their bread.

  “Here.” She handed it to him.

  “I didn’t have sex with you.” He looked at her, pointedly. “I made love to you. There’s a difference. And I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m not sorry. I am sorry about neglecting to tell you about Maria first. I should have told you.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, taking back the cloth and dabbing up the trickle of blood that had escaped his nose. “You should have told me.”

  “Can I tell you now?”

  Lillian searched his eyes, and asked, “Do you love her?”

  “Yes,” he responded, with complete certainty. “And I will always love her, Lillian.”

  Lillian looked away then, tears threatening to spill.

  Jackson reached down, grabbed her chin, and tilted her head back up. “But the fact is, pet, I am not in love with Maria. She hasn’t been a wife to me in nearly ten years.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Maria and I, we’ve known each other practically our entire lives. We were friends. Then in our teens we began courting. It seemed natural. We had a lot in common. But, before we even had a chance it all fell apart.” Jackson nervously ran his hand through his hair before continuing.

  “I was eighteen and Maria was seventeen, she got pregnant. I married her right away. She was so distressed when sh
e realized it, I couldn’t bear it. I had not one shred of doubt at the time. Maria was extremely religious and felt exceedingly guilty. I wanted to make it right. And I loved her.”

  “What happened?”

  “She started to unravel. The shame and guilt ate away at her. She went to Mass every day, praying for forgiveness for our sin. It didn’t matter that the priest offered forgiveness. It didn’t matter that he blessed our marriage. Nothing mattered. Then, in her seventh month, she lost the baby. That same day she lost her mind.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “In a hospital, for the past nine years. I couldn’t divorce her. I never wanted to. There was no one else of consequence, no need—”

  Lillian held up her hand. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Okay,” she repeated as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his.

  He sighed in relief, releasing a breath that he didn’t even realize he had been holding. “Now, where do we go from here?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, sadly. “But, Jackson?”

  “Yes, pet?”

  “We go together. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” He sealed his promise with a kiss.

  It was mid-morning when they reached the camp. Jackson had insisted that Lillian ride the camel on the long journey back. They had paused only briefly along the way to rest and drink water.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “I think so.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Love?”

  “Yes! Yes, I’m ready.”

  “All right, then. We’re agreed. You’ll go directly back to your tent and lay low. I’ll work towards getting an audience with the prince.”

  “Will I see you tonight?” she whispered in his ear as he reached up to grab her around the waist and lower her to the ground.

  “Absolutely.” He pulled her close to him so that she slid down the length of his body, landing softly on the sand.

  “Don’t move,” a gruff voice said in a thick accent.

  He didn’t. Jackson could feel the cold, metal blade of an Arabian scimitar jabbing him in the back of his neck.

  “Step away from my woman.”

  Jackson lifted his hands into the air and slowly turned around, looking his attacker in the eye. “I think you’ve made a mistake, mate.”

  “Ahmed!” the prince yelled as he galloped up on his white horse, black robes billowing out around him.

  Ahmed backed up a step and glanced over at the prince. “I have found the lieutenant, my lord.”

  “Ah, Lieutenant, nice to see you! It seems that you have taken some liberties with my generosity.” The prince nodded towards Lillian. “I believe that my offer was for a night, one night.”

  “Yes, well, forbidden fruit is the sweetest, is it not, my lord?” Jackson asked flashing a confident smile.

  “Don’t be a fool!” The prince climbed down from his horse. “Hessa! Get back to your tent. You must prepare for this afternoon’s festivities.”

  Lillian started to walk away.

  “Festivities?”

  “Yes,” the prince acknowledged calmly. “I have promised Hessa to Ahmed. He is to take her for his wife.”

  At that she stopped dead in her tracks, a look of horror and panic crossing her face. As she opened her mouth to shout out in protest, he backhanded her, hard, across the face, knocking her to the ground.

  “I didn’t tell you to leave,” he ground out, staring down at her, anger evident in his eyes.

  Ahmed advanced on him, pointing the sharp blade of the scimitar into his throat. “You do not give her orders. You forget yourself.”

  “She is mine!” Jackson stared Ahmed down.

  “Enough!” the prince shouted. “Ahmed won her, Lieutenant.”

  “Won her?” Jackson’s mind was racing.

  “Yes, Lieutenant. I was bored. It was weeks ago, we had a contest and Ahmed won, hands down. The prize was the promise of a wife. It gets difficult for the men, Lieutenant, being without female companionship. Surely, you can appreciate that. You are, after all, a man who appreciates many things, no?” The prince gazed down at Lillian, who was still sprawled on the ground.

  “Yes,” Jackson agreed, looking at Lillian himself. He walked over to her, reached down, and offered her a hand up.

  “When we first found Hessa, he chose not to exercise his claim. Instead, he opted to wait a bit, to see if we would find another, more suitable wife. Since seeing her last night, he has changed his mind. He informed me that he wishes to exercise his right as champion,” the prince explained.

  Jackson walked over to Ahmed. “You are the champion?”

  “Yes,” he said proudly “I am the champion.”

  “No.” Jackson quietly shook his head.

  “No?”

  “I can best you.”

  “Are you issuing a challenge, Lieutenant?” the prince inquired, amused at this turn of events.

  “That’s right.”

  “Why should he agree to fight you?” the prince asked. “He has already won the prize.”

  “Because, if he doesn’t agree,” Jackson walked up to Ahmed, looking him directly in the eye, “everyone will think he is a coward.”

  “You are of no consequence. I can beat you,” Ahmed said. “Then I will marry her and there will be no more challenges.”

  “It will be so!” the prince said. “Tomorrow morning, at sunrise, you will fight and the victor will gain a wife.”

  Lillian glanced, alarmed, at Jackson. He walked over to her, clasped his hand over hers and began to walk with her towards his tent.

  “Lieutenant!” the prince called out. “You have yet to win the prize. You should not presume anything. Ahmed is the finest of swordsman. He will be a formidable enemy.”

  Jackson walked back over to the prince, tilted his head to the side and asked, “You know what I find works best for getting rid of enemies?”

  “No, Lieutenant,” the prince answered.

  “Killing them.”

  “But, Lieutenant, we are at war, we can not afford to lose our best soldiers. Especially over something as unimportant as a woman. Let me be clear. You may fight Ahmed, but you may not kill him. Understood?”

  “Understood.” Jackson turned to walk back towards the tent.

  “And, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Hessa will sleep in the harem tonight. She must be prepared for her wedding day. There will be no further discussion on this matter.”

  Jackson nodded, then he walked over to Lillian and taking her hands in his made a promise. “I will win you,” he said, searching her eyes. “Believe me. No matter what it takes, I will win.”

  “I believe you,” Lillian whispered so quietly only he could hear.

  Then he watched, overcome with a combination of sadness and fury, as she was led away into the seclusion of the harem.

  Chapter Four

  Lillian stumbled slightly as she was pushed into the confines of the harem. She fell to her knees on the lush carpet, her mind racing. She angrily ripped the veil from her head and threw it towards the entrance of the tent, back at the attendant who had so roughly escorted her there. But he was already gone. She growled in frustration and climbed to her feet, ready to run after him.

  “Want to talk about it?” a voice said in almost perfect English.

  “You speak English!”

  The woman smiled at her. “Not that I’m terribly interested, you understand. Mostly, I’m bored.”

  “You speak English!”

  “You’re going to need to do better than repeating the same inane sentence over and over if you are to overcome the boredom of life in the harem,” the woman said.

  “I am not living in the harem!”

  Seems that you are, at least for now and, I can assure you, very few women ever leave here under good circumstances. I am called Ilham.”

  “Ilham? But
you’re not Arabic.”

  “No, I am originally from Greece. The Sultan, as a gift, gave me to the prince. That’s how it is. Now that you are a slave, you, too, will learn the ways of Islam,” the olive-skinned beauty with the long, black hair said.

  Lillian shook her head. “I am not a slave.”

  “We shall see.” Ilham walked deeper into the dimly lit tent. There were ornately decorated sleeping pallets scattered about the floor separated by diaphanous drapes and piled high with richly embroidered pillows. On one such pallet, towards the back were two women. Lillian’s eyes widened as she gazed upon them, seeing them clearly through the sheer curtains.

  They were lying nude, sensuously wrapped around one another, limbs entwined. The hennaed hair of one was fanned out against the emerald green silk of the sleeping pallet. Her skin was pale, almost translucent. In one hand she held a cigarette. As she slowly brought it to her lips, her other hand trailed over the full breasts of the second woman. After taking a deep drag from the cigarette she offered it to her partner who shook her head in refusal. The redhead rolled, effortlessly, exchanging places with the woman who now lay pinned beneath her. She smiled seductively, and then she leaned down, kissing her lover deeply, releasing the opium-tinged smoke into her lover’s mouth.

  “You like to watch?” the voluptuous dark-haired woman who had come to stand by Lillian asked.

  Lillian turned away, suddenly embarrassed. “No, I—”

  “No need to be shy!” the woman said teasingly as she reached out, caressing the side of Lillian’s face.

  Lillian stepped back, and suppressed the urge to flee. She looked from the dark-haired beauty back to the two on the pallet. The redhead was again on her back. As a narrow wisp of smoke escaped her lips she laced one hand through the hair of her lover, guiding the woman’s head down. Lillian looked away as the redhead’s legs opened in wanton invitation.

  “Iman, leave her alone,” Ilham said sharply.

  Iman stepped back, tossed her long dark mane of hair over one shoulder and placed both hands on her hips. “You’re just upset because it’s my turn tonight. You’re afraid I’m going to take such good care of him that he’ll forget all about you.”