by J. M. Madden
Chad nodded, jaw clenched, as they stepped away.
“Hey,” Duncan cupped a hand on the back of his neck. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the end. Go to Texas and let them fix up your hand. Then we’ll get together again.”
Chad sighed and grinned. “I will, Dunc. Good luck moving in with your parents.”
Snorting, he shook his head. “I’m not moving in. Forty year-olds don’t move back home. I’m stopping for a visit while I find my own place.”
Laughing, Chad waved a hand as he turned away, braced on his crutch. “Whatever you want to call it, buddy.”
Duncan couldn’t help but laugh too as he watched Chad walk back to the elevators, with hardly a hitch in his stride. As much as he hated to admit it, the kid was right. Calling it a visit was just splitting hairs.
He loved his parents dearly but as soon as walked off the plane, the hovering started. His mother burst into tears when she saw him on his feet for the first time, and, he had to admit, he got choked up as well. Dad hugged him till he could hardly breathe, then pushed him to arm’s length to look him up and down. “You look good, Duncan.”
But as he headed toward the baggage claim, he could tell they were dismayed at the way he walked. Duncan gritted his teeth as he made his way through the terminal, conscious of other people staring as well, but there was nothing he could do about his gait. He’d only been on his feet a few weeks and he was still getting the hang of maneuvering the cane. Concentrating, he made sure he planted his feet securely every single time.
Dad snatched his duffle off the conveyor belt before he had a chance to and started for the parking area. “Let me go get the car.”
“Nope, I’m good.”
Actually, his hips were aching like hell and his back quivered. Just walking through the terminals today had been more exercise than he’d gotten in the past several weeks. A pain pill would definitely be in his future. But he wasn’t going to let his parents know how worn out he actually felt.
Duncan settled into the guestroom of the house in Arvada. Though welcoming and comfortable, after a few days boredom drove him out of the house. He walked a lot, thankful for the smooth sidewalks in the subdivision. Melanie had shipped his personal possessions so he took a day to go through those. It made him a little regretful that things couldn’t have worked out better with her, but everything happened for a reason.
The inactivity and lack of direction got so bad one day he consented to go to work with his father. As soon as he stepped into the family print shop, he remembered how much he disliked it. The smell turned his stomach, but he forced himself to hang out and pitch in. Helping his dad when he was a kid had been torture and not much had changed. The metal clang of the machines kept him on edge. He couldn’t imagine working here for any length of time. His younger brother Sam was there and it was nice to reconnect with him. Sam had taken to the family business with a passion Duncan never had and he was glad for it.
Robert, the oldest, was an accountant in Denver. He’d promised to come home for dinner on Sunday and visit.
They’d never been a close knit family, but they were certainly close enough to call upon each other when they needed help. His parents had always understood that Duncan didn’t fit in with them exactly. But they’d encouraged him in everything he wanted to do.
So when he started looking for apartments in Denver, though dismayed, they helped. He found one he liked and they helped him move in with little fuss. They seemed happy he was within driving distance. He promised to call if he needed anything.
Once he was on his own he began to concentrate on what he wanted to do. For a couple weeks he scanned the want ads, but nothing appealed to him. Though he’d lived a regimented lifestyle for years, he didn’t want to work for anybody anymore.
He wanted to be in charge and he wanted to help other vets.
He began to plan.
Chapter Four
Seven months later…
The woman was freakin’ hot! As she danced in front of him, all his worries about the service faded away. He was on leave for another forty hours and it had been forever since he’d had a good fuck. There was no way he was letting this opportunity pass.
When he asked her if she wanted to get out of there, she giggled and leaned down to pick up her lip-stick from the table, giving him a perfect peek down her generous cleavage. Not that it was difficult anyway with the tiny shirt she wore. In the bars surrounding bases, there were certain types of women that came in for the uniform only. And he was good with that. He certainly didn’t want any lasting entanglements.
Somehow the scene morphed into one of his old, empty apartments. Seemed like he was deployed all the time, so he never had time to actually furnish it. The girl didn’t seem to mind, though. She led him to the one piece of furniture he did have, a king-sized bed, and pushed him down on the edge. Nudging him to lay back, she attacked his zipper, ripping it down and pulling him out. She had crazy long nails, but she was gentle as she handled his erection. Immediately, warm wet heat engulfed his cock.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” he moaned.
The woman was an expert. She teased him just the way he liked, jacking him long and slow, bobbing on the tip of his cock. She teased the slit on the underside with her tongue, then sank down his length as far as she could go.
John tried to reach down to touch her, but she guided his hand to her heavy breast, pressing into his touch. He was okay with that. Her breasts were magnificent. Hell, what was her name? He couldn’t even remember. Amber? No. Kimber, that was it. Maybe.
She fondled his balls with her second hand, cranking his arousal. Everything around him faded away as she pleasured him, wringing feelings from him he hadn’t felt in too long. He tried to shift to take over, but she held him down gently. “I want you to finish like this,” she whispered.
Hell, who was he to disagree? Relaxing into the mattress he let her work his body. The combination of the wet heat of her tongue and the motion of her strong hand had him on edge within less than a minute. With another glance at her heavy hanging breasts, he was a goner. Pleasure overwhelmed him and he shouted out, almost blacking out from his orgasm as he arched on the bed. She swallowed him down─ but continued to jack him with her hand, using his own cum as fresh lubricant. His mind blanked as he as he let the euphoria glide through him.
When John opened his eyes a few seconds later, he was surprised to feel wetness on his hand. He glanced around, not recognizing the dim room at first. He’d been in his old apartment, he thought. Reality slowly sank in and he winced. There was no woman.
Flinging the sheet from his body he looked down at his receding erection and wet hand and belly.
“Holy hell,” he muttered.
He’d just come all over himself. From a fucking dream.
Emotion tightened his throat as he looked again just to be sure. Yep, it was everywhere. He laughed out loud, then sank back on the bed as tears flooded his eyes and rolled down his temples. The aftereffect from the great orgasm made his muscles languid. He’d masturbated in his sleep. Unbelievable. He’d been out of the hospital for months and not been able to even get an erection, let alone jack off.
He laughed out loud and looked back down. Nope, it was still there. He held his right hand up in the weak morning light and watched it glisten. Regretfully, he reached to the bedside table for a handful of tissues to clean himself up, then hesitated. His cell phone was right there; maybe he should take a picture just to remind himself later. No─That’s too fucking weird.
He hoisted himself into the chair and went into the bathroom to clean up, smiling the entire time. Though it completely creeped him out, he wanted to call Duncan or Chad to tell them what had happened. Chad was always going on about marking milestones and this was definitely a milestone. First orgasm post-injury.
He rolled into the bedroom to dress and noticed his cell-phone was blinking. He hit the green redial button when he saw who had called. Excitement built in his gut as he waited for the call to be answ
ered.
“‘lo?”
“Dude,” he laughed, “you must have known I was going to call you.”
Chad was quiet for a minute, and John knew it probably shocked him to hear him laughing.
“Is this Gunnery Sergeant Palmer?”
“Fuck you, Lowell.”
Chad snorted on the other end of the line. “Yep, definitely Gunny Palmer. What the hell’s up with you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this excited. Did you get that security job you put in for last week?”
“No, well, don’t know yet. This is something different. Better.”
“Huh. I’m at a loss, brother. What’s up?”
John blinked, suddenly attacked by embarrassment. Would Chad even care? Fuck it. He had to tell somebody before he busted his gut trying to keep it in.
“I just came all over my hand.”
Silence stretched on the other end. “Uh, ok. Why’d you do that?”
“That’s not the point,” he growled. “It was the first time since my injury.”
It took a minute for the words to sink in. “Oh, no way! Palmer, that’s fucking fantastic. Congratulations on your messy hand!”
John laughed, just because he couldn’t not. More than a fucking year since he’d had any kind of release. ‘Bout damn time.
“Was she hot?”
“Ha! Well, she had nice tits, I remember that.” He tried to remember the dream he had. “Totally don’t remember her face though.”
Chad snorted. “Of course not. Well, I’m happy for you. Maybe now that your body has remembered what to do it’ll be easier next time.”
If John believed in a higher power, he’d pray for it to be so. “We’ll see. So, what’s up?”
They talked about inconsequential things for solid half an hour before they hung up. John was in a euphoric mood, and he knew he probably sounded downright giddy compared to his normal tone. His body felt more satisfied and relaxed than it had for a long time. He knew it was completely psychological, but he didn’t feel like a freaking eunuch.
Dressing himself in shorts and a t-shirt, he headed to the gym to take advantage of his burst of testosterone. He was actually excited to get on the machines. For the past six months he’d gotten disenchanted with even trying to look decent up top.
A woman on one of the stationary bikes looked up when he rolled in and gave him a smile. John was taken a little off guard because for more than a year, he’d been a hurdle for people to work around. Ignored. Most even avoided eye contact. Had his demeanor actually changed that much with just that one orgasm? Hell, he didn’t know. But when she drifted over to watch him do flies with the free weights, he talked to her. And relished feeling like a somebody again.
Leaving the gym an hour later, he marveled at how much his life had changed in the past few hours. And it changed yet again when he rounded the corner to his ground floor apartment. Duncan Wilde leaned against the door jamb to his place, a slender black cane at his side.
John jerked to a stop, shocked to see his old roommate on his feet. For months he’d laid in the bed beside his own, recovering. John had never actually seen him vertical. Hearing it on the phone and seeing it were two completely different things.
Duncan smiled, obviously relishing the surprise.
John couldn’t help but laugh. Today, for some reason, fate had given him bounties beyond what he’d ever had before. As he coasted to his door, he looked Duncan up and down. “Didn’t realize you were such a tall fucker.”
Duncan slapped him on the back and went so far as to lean down and give him a manly hug. He picked up a carry-out bag from the floor. “I brought Chinese and beer. Open the door.”
John unlocked the door and glided inside, cringing at the sight of his unkempt apartment. He certainly hadn’t expected company. Shoving clothes off the couch and clearing trash from the coffee table, he wheeled one-handed from mess to mess, cleaning as much as he could. Duncan stepped in behind him and placed the bags on the coffee-table, then sank to the couch with a sigh. “You weren’t exactly easy to find.”
John glanced at him as he parked opposite the couch. “Yeah. I wasn’t wild about the apartment they tried to get me into. They wouldn’t approve this one, so I left the program. If I’d realized you’d be looking for me I’d have given you my address.”
Duncan made a face. “No biggie. I got it from Chad. He said his mom likes to send you cookies.”
Embarrassment heated the tips of his ears. “It’s the only actual cooking I ever get.”
“Well, how about some more take-out?”
He unpacked the bags, lining up cartons in the middle of the table. John retrieved clean utensils from the kitchen and they dug in. It was only late morning, but for some reason the food tasted phenomenal. Or maybe it was the company. John was man enough to admit he’d missed his buddies. Phone calls were fine, but there was so much that wasn’t easy to talk about on the phone.
Duncan cracked a beer and handed him one. “Come on, Palmer. You have to drink one.”
“Why? I don’t normally toxify myself until after lunch. It’s a little early yet.”
Duncan winked at him.. “We have to celebrate opening our agency.”
John squinted at him. “What agency?”
“The investigative agency we’re going to create.”
For several long seconds, the words just did not compute. When they did, a thrill launched through him. “Are you being serious?”
Instead of answering him, Duncan reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers, handing them to him. It was a lease agreement to an office building in Colorado. The owner’s names were listed as Duncan Wilde, John Palmer and Chad Lowell. He looked at Duncan in confusion. “Why is my name on here?”
“Because you’re one of the partners.”
John knew he sounded stupid, but he had to ask again. “Why?”
“Because, you have experience. Valuable experience that the government gave you and I’m going to take advantage of. Can you still wire a camera?”
He frowned. “Of course.”
“Think you can brush up on your surveillance techniques?”
“Yes.” He shook his head, numb. “But I didn’t buy any part of it.”
“Well, what would you be comfortable paying for a percentage of it? The caveat being that I maintain controlling interest. I’m not working for anybody anymore.”
John was floored that he would even be offered the opportunity to take part in this. If Duncan wanted to run the company himself that would be fine, all the better for him. Emotion clogged his throat as he looked down at the pages again, and his name typed in bold on the top line beside those of the two best buddies he could ever remember having.
The thought of going into business with them and doing legitimate, needed work thrilled him more than the orgasm he’d had that morning. “Are you serious? Have you talked to Chad about this?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to make sure you were on board first.” Duncan grinned. “I knew you’d be the more difficult one.”
John snorted, glancing at the pages once again. He thought of what was in his accounts and retirement and knew it wouldn’t be enough. When he rattled off a number, Duncan shook his head. “No, you’re only buying a quarter interest. I’m going to maintain control of the business, but I want you guys there as partners.”
They settled on half of what John had offered and he signed the business contract, promising to be in Colorado as soon as he could release his apartment and make travel arrangements.
Chad looked up at the sound of a truck rumbling behind him. The inattention made his weak left hand slip and thirty feet of barb-wire sprang back into a coil.
“Shit!”
He flexed his left hand inside the glove, cursing his lack of grip. Yes, it was his weak hand, but it was even weaker than when he was a kid. Frustrated the hell out of him.
The familiar red truck pulled to a stop a few feet away and a woman got out. Chad lowered his
head until his hat covered his eyes and swiped the sweat from his face. He should have known he wasn’t far enough away.
With a sigh, he stepped carefully around the fencing materials, dropping the pliers into the leather saddle-bag on the ground.
“Hey, Tara. What brings you out this way?”
As if he didn’t know.
“Hi, Chad. Well, it’s been forever since I talked to you so I thought I would just slip out and say hi. Your momma said you were fencing. Can I help?”
He frowned and looked her up and down. Her blond hair was curled, make-up on, nice boots and low-cut shirt displaying her boobs. Not exactly fencing attire. More like seduction attire.
“Nah, that’s alright. I’m about done anyway.”
She swayed forward and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. Chad let her but pulled back when she tried to rest her hand on his chest. The smell of her God-awful perfume reached his nose. Even in the middle of a thousand acres of cow shit, it was enough to set him back.
He turned back to the fence line. If she wanted to hang around and watch him work that was fine, but this hole needed to be patched. He walked to the previous post, placing his left foot deliberately, and reached for the coil of fence. Barb-wire was cantankerous on the best of days with two good hands, let alone his. Finding the end, he pulled, slowly unhooking each barb from the coil behind it. It was slow, tedious work and more than once his hand slipped.
Tara stood to the side watching him. One quick glance at her face was enough for him to see the pity in her eyes. And the longer she stood there staring, the more frustrated and angry he got.
“Tara, why don’t you head to the house and say hi to my mom. I’m sure she’d love to see you.” Sorry, Momma. His mother would probably rather walk barefoot on hot asphalt than entertain Tara Johnson, but he didn’t know how else to get rid of her. “I’ll be home in a bit.”
Letting the coil of wire spring back, in spite of all the time he just spent unwinding it, he turned to guide her back to the truck.
“Well, I don’t--”
