Once Burned

by L. A. Witt

  “The countdown’s starting!” someone shouted, and everyone crowded around the flat-screen TVs. I didn’t usually like being in crowds, but I didn’t object as the mass of people pushed me and Mark closer together. We exchanged smiles before looking up at the screen. As we watched the ball starting to drop over Times Square, Mark slipped his hand into mine. I turned, just meaning to glance at him, but once our eyes met, I couldn’t look away.

  We were surrounded by people, but it felt like we were completely alone. Like we had the entire High-&-Tight all to ourselves, and even with all the noise and activity, the whole world seemed to stand still.

  He was military. So recently divorced the ink was still wet.

  And I . . .

  Was falling for him.

  Hard.

  Right then, he flashed a smile, and my stomach flipped.

  No, I wasn’t falling for him—I already had.

  He was military, but he was also Mark, and that was the only thing that mattered. He was Mark, and I loved him.

  Everything I’d spent the other night thinking about came crashing back, and . . . yeah. It was time to make peace with the idea of a boyfriend who was military, because Mark wasn’t getting out anytime soon and I didn’t want to let him go. If I stayed with him, that meant staying with the Navy.

  And as I looked up at him, watching the disco lights playing in his eyes and across the flecks of silver in his hair, it was a no-brainer. There was no “if” when it came to staying with Mark. It didn’t even matter that we’d only been seeing each other for a little under two months. Every time I met his eyes, I just knew.

  We were standing less than ten feet from the spot where we’d met, but it felt like I’d never been here before. We’d met right there less than two months ago, but it felt like I’d known him all my life.

  Of course we’re here. Of course we’re together.

  And of course I love you.

  “Seven!”

  Midnight seemed way too far away. Way too long to wait.

  “Six!”

  I cradled the back of his neck, lifted myself up, and kissed him. As everyone around us continued counting down, he wrapped his arms around me and parted his lips so I could slide my tongue into his mouth. I held him close, kissed him deep, and midnight came and went without mattering.

  Mark ended the kiss as softly as I’d started it, and our eyes met again. Disco lights glittered in his eyes. Music and cheers vibrated the floor beneath my feet.

  And my heart was going crazy. While we gazed at each other with that kiss still tingling on my lips, the feeling of being alone in a packed room came over me again.

  He brushed my hair back off my forehead. “Happy New Year.”

  “Feliz año nuevo,” I murmured as I went in for a longer kiss. Mark’s arms tightened around me, and the kiss deepened just like it had while we’d ignored the countdown.

  “Maybe we should get out of here,” he whispered.

  I didn’t say a word. I just took his hand and headed for the door.

  I slammed Mark down on his bed and kissed him before he had a chance to recover. He moaned, throwing his arms around me, and rubbed his clothed dick against mine so hard I was surprised neither of us came.

  We were sweaty from the club, and probably needed a shower before we did anything else, but I wanted him too much. We’d both be drenched in sweat by the time I was done with him anyway, so it didn’t matter.

  “Did you see how many people were staring at you tonight?” he asked out of the blue.

  “Huh?”

  Mark’s lips curved against mine. Then he started on my neck. “So many guys there were checking you out.”

  “R-really?” I could barely remember other men even being there, never mind what they were looking at.

  “Uh-huh. Was fucking hot.” He nibbled under my jaw. “I wanted to blow you right then and there so they all knew you were coming home with me.”

  A shudder surged through me, and we both gasped as the motion pressed our cocks together. “That’s . . . Oh my God . . .”

  “I had the hottest man in the room tonight.” His voice was a low, throaty growl now. “And everyone there knew it. And it made me want you so fucking bad.”

  I whimpered, grinding my hips against his. “Yeah? So what’re you gonna do with me?”

  He gave a rumbly groan, then flipped me onto my back, pinning my arms to the mattress, and sank his teeth into my shoulder. My hips bucked involuntarily. Fuck, now I wanted to come, and I was still dressed.

  “Want it rough,” he growled in my ear.

  A pitiful, needy sound escaped my throat.

  He laughed and nibbled my earlobe before he whispered, “Quiero que me des duro hoy.”

  And I burst out laughing, then clapped a hand over my mouth.

  “What?” He lifted himself up, smirking and blushing at the same time. “Did I say it wrong?”

  “No.” I tried to pull myself back together, but I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “I just . . . wasn’t expecting . . .”

  As he came down to kiss me, he laughed too, and his breath rushed past my skin, which made me shiver and sober right up.

  “Oh God,” I groaned. “For the record, if you want me to fuck you like that, all you have to do is say so.”

  “I did. Just . . . badly. In what was apparently horrible Spanish.”

  “No, it was all right.” I chuckled. “Just caught me by surprise is all. Who taught you to talk that way?”

  He blushed again. “The internet.”

  “Of course.” I snorted, trying not to laugh again. “You googled how to say ‘I want you to fuck me hard today’?”

  Mark grinned, not looking quite so embarrassed now. “Apparently I did get it right.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you did. Now get over here so I can fuck you.”

  He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed me. We were laughing almost as much as we were kissing, though, which . . . was kind of hot, actually. Maybe I was just dizzy from lack of oxygen, but the longer we kissed and laughed without actually getting anywhere with the condom and lube, the more turned on I was.

  Finally, I couldn’t wait any longer, and breathed, “Condom.”

  “Should . . . should probably get undressed first.”

  I glanced down. Well, shit. He had a point.

  “Clothes off, condom on?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Once we’d stripped out of our clothes—fucking finally—Mark handed me a condom and grabbed the bottle of lube. While I opened the wrapper, he uncapped the bottle and poured some in his hand. After I put on the condom, he started stroking on the lube, and as he did, he looked me up and down. “I don’t know if I’ve told you this enough.” He sounded like he was out of breath. “But you are fucking hot.”

  I grinned, rocking my hips to fuck into his tight fist. “So are you. Especially when my dick’s in your ass.”

  A strangled sound escaped his lips as he shivered, and he tightened his grip around me.

  “Fuck,” I ground out. Then I batted his hand away. “On your back. Now.”

  Mark obeyed immediately, lying back on the pillows and spreading his legs wide for me. I fingered him a little, just to make sure he was relaxed and slick, then guided myself to his hole. He bit his lip as I pushed into him. “God, yeah . . .”

  I wanted to make a joke about how I’d barely given him an inch, but . . . God, yeah was right. The deeper he took me, the more I wondered how I was going to keep from going off too soon.

  Mark closed his eyes and exhaled. His fingers dug into my upper arms as he rolled his hips like he wanted to coax me even deeper.

  I’m getting there, baby. Don’t worry.

  I got there. In no time, I was thrusting hard, making the bed creak so loud it almost covered up our voices.

  “Oh yeah,” he was slurring. “Oh yeah. God, yeah. That’s so good. So good.”

  It was, and it wasn’t just my body he was overwhelming. T
he way I’d stared at him from across the room. The way I’d felt while I’d looked in his eyes just before midnight. The way being with him drowned out everything except how good I felt.

  “Te—” I cut myself off before te amo slipped off my lips. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t in English; I couldn’t say I love you now. Not like this. “Te quiero.”

  Mark whimpered, arching under me. “Fuck, it’s hot when you . . . oh God . . .”

  “Hmm? When I talk that way?” I slammed into him. “Or fuck you this way?”

  “Both.” His nails bit into my back, and his whole body tensed as he breathed, “Jesus, both. Don’t stop . . . keep doing both.”

  I moaned against his neck and squeezed my eyes shut as I fucked him harder, and I kept murmuring in Spanish. I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore, only that I couldn’t stay quiet while I was riding him like this, and he was getting more turned on with every syllable I slurred in his ear.

  Then his body jerked, and a hot huff of breath rushed past my shoulder as Mark clenched around me, and we both cried out. He kept pleading—almost sobbing—for me to keep going, and I did because he felt so, so good, and because I loved the way he sounded and felt when he came, and suddenly I was coming right along with him, shooting so hard I almost blacked out.

  When the smoke cleared, I had collapsed on top of him. I didn’t remember doing it, and I didn’t care that I now had cum all over my stomach. I was against him and spent and satisfied, and it was perfect.

  I pulled out but lay there for a moment longer just to catch my breath. Once we both had our bearings, we got up and went into the bathroom to clean ourselves off before flopping back onto the bed.

  Mark stroked my hair. “Holy shit, that was good.”

  “Uh-huh.” I turned onto my side so I was facing him. “Always is with you.”

  He grinned, then kissed me softly. He trailed his fingers down the side of my neck. “And that party was pretty— Ow!” He jerked his hand back and shook it. “What the hell?”

  “What’s wrong?” I pushed myself up on my elbow, heart thumping suddenly.

  Mark stared at his hand, then turned it, and I saw the tiny drop of blood beading on his thumb.

  I carefully brushed a finger over the place he’d been touching and found the sharp edge. “Oh. Piece of shrapnel. It, uh, happens sometimes.”

  Mark’s eyes widened. “Come again?”

  “There’s . . .” I gestured at my face and neck. “They didn’t get all the shrapnel out. Sometimes pieces come out on their own.”

  His lips parted. “You’re serious.”

  “Yeah. I’ve got some tweezers at home. It’s fine right now.”

  “You’re just going to leave a little piece of metal in your skin?”

  “It’s been there for seven years.” I shrugged. “Hasn’t hurt me yet.”

  “It doesn’t hurt like that?” He gestured at it.

  I shook my head. “Not really. Just stings a little.”

  “I’ve got tweezers here too.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “You’re welcome to them.”

  As much as I didn’t want to leave the warmth of his bed, I didn’t need him cutting his lip on it or something. Or worse—not wanting to kiss my neck at all.

  So, we got up. Mark pulled a pair of tweezers from the drawer and watched silently as I leaned in close to the mirror and tilted my head. I had to run my finger over the fragment until I found it, and it was so tiny, it took three tries to get the tweezers to grab on to it. Then I gave it a careful tug, and the sliver of metal slid free. I dropped it in the trash, then cleaned off the tweezers. As I set them on the counter, I said, “You’ll probably want to put these in alcohol or something.”

  “I can deal with that later. What about you? Are you sure you’re—”

  “I’m fine.” I dabbed at the thin cut with a wadded square of toilet paper. There wasn’t a whole lot of blood; I’d done worse shaving. “Okay. Looks like that’s it.”

  He frowned. “You sure? That’s it?”

  Chuckling, I faced him and snaked my arms around his waist. “It’s really not a big deal. It’s no worse than a splinter.” I kissed him softly. “Sorry for the little, uh, interruption.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “As long as you’re good.”

  “I am.”

  A little grin played at his lips. “Do I get to brag about that? Rocking your world so hard it knocked shrapnel out of your skin?”

  I snorted. “Yeah. We fucked so hard, I fell apart.”

  “Came so hard you came apart at the seams.” We both laughed, and he gathered me up in his arms. We held each other like that for a while, still kind of laughing, but more and more, kissing. When he spoke again, his tone was light, but serious: “Tonight was amazing, by the way.”

  I couldn’t even make a joke about how it was amazing aside from me losing pieces of metal. Not when he sounded so sweet and sincere. “Yeah,” I said. “It really was.”

  Our eyes met again, and we both smiled.

  Do you have any idea how much I love you?

  “Happy New Year,” he said.

  I lifted my chin and kissed him. “Happy New Year.”

  Sex with Diego was always amazing, but this was by far my favorite part—when the smoke had cleared and we were lying half under the sheets. My marriage had been dead for so long, I’d almost forgotten how much I loved—and needed—this quiet, gentle cuddling in the afterglow. There was a lot to be said for the warm, solid presence of someone who still wanted to touch me once the orgasms were over.

  Tonight, we’d landed with Diego on his back and my head on his shoulder. His fingers absently stroked my hair, and I had my arm draped over his stomach. For the longest time, we were quiet and still, and I savored every minute of it.

  After a while, he reached up and dabbed at the side of his neck. When he inspected his fingertip, I realized he’d been checking it for blood.

  “Still bleeding?”

  He shook his head. “No. Sometimes they bleed for a while, but this one stopped.”

  “Good. And it really doesn’t hurt?”

  He shrugged. “It stings a bit, but it hurts a lot less coming out than it did going in.”

  I shuddered. “Jesus. You seem like you’re used to that happening.”

  “I am. It creeped me out the first few times, but eventually, it stops being such a big deal. Especially now that it doesn’t happen so often anymore. Since, you know, most of the pieces are gone.”

  “And no one’s worried they’ll get into your bloodstream or something?”

  “And pierce my heart?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah. I mean, I asked if that was a risk, and the doctors didn’t think it was anything to worry about.” A smirk played at his lips. “I tried to talk the docs into giving me an arc reactor like Tony Stark. You know, just to be safe.”

  I smirked. “What did they say?”

  “They gave me some Motrin.”

  I barked a laugh. “Ah, good ol’ vitamin M.”

  “The arc reactor would have been so much cooler.”

  “Damn budget cuts.”

  “Right?” Diego chuckled. “Seriously, though, it’s no big deal.”

  I frowned. “And it doesn’t bother you? With your, uh . . . with your past?”

  “Not anymore, no.” He touched the spot on his neck again as if it might’ve sprung a leak in the last minute or so. Then he shifted onto his side and, when I faced him, laid his arm over my waist as he gazed at me. “It used to be bad, but it’s gotten better. So I guess . . .” He chewed his lip. “Maybe that means there’s hope of me getting over all my shit with the military.”

  “Maybe. Has that gotten better? The whole picture?”

  Diego nodded slowly. “It’s still hard. The military is still, you know, a sore spot. But I want to be with you, and being with you means being with the military.”

  I clasped his hand in mine and brought it up to kiss his p
alm. “I want to be with you too, as long as it’s not stressing you out.”

  “It’s not.” Diego smiled. “I thought it would, but . . . it’s really not.”

  “Good.” I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “If, um, you are feeling better about all of it . . .” I hesitated. “You can say no if you want to, but there’s a party coming up. The Hail and Farewell for the outgoing CO from our supply ship.” I raised my eyebrows. “If you want to, I’d love to have you as my date.”

  To my surprise, Diego smiled. “Do I get to damage your uniform afterward?”

  I laughed. “Baby, you can rip it to shreds if you promise to fuck me like you did tonight.”

  “I’ll do that anyway.”

  “Then you can do whatever you want to my uniform.”

  His smile turned to a devilish grin. “I like the sound of that.”

  I chuckled, but my humor faded quickly. “All joking aside, are you sure about this?” I stroked his hair. “Going to the party?”

  Diego swept his tongue across his lips as he nodded. “Yeah. I want to be with you. I need to make peace with you being in the Navy.”

  I held his gaze for a moment, not sure what to say. As much as I loved the idea of showing him off to the people I worked with, I didn’t want to push him. “You don’t need to make peace with it overnight. If you’re not ready—”

  “Mark.” He took my hand and kissed my palm, raising goose bumps all the way up my arm. “If I’m not ready for a dinner party, then I don’t have much hope of being ready for anything. I’ll be fine.”

  I hesitated, but finally nodded. “All right. Just . . . say so if you’re not fine, okay?” I brushed his hair off his forehead. “We don’t have to stick around if it’s too much.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he insisted, and kissed me.

  When we broke that kiss, I whispered, “How did you say it in Spanish? Feliz . . . something?”

  Diego smiled. “Feliz año nuevo.”

  “Feliz año nuevo.” Then I frowned. “Doesn’t sound nearly as good when I say it.”

  He laughed, curving his hand around the back of my neck. “No worse than my English sounded when I was first learning. You’ll get it.”