Hero by Night

by Sara Jane Stone

  “You don’t have to do this now,” she said. “We can go out first.”

  “Lena, right now, ” he said, his voice low. “I’m going to make you come so hard you see stars and then I’ll feed you.”

  “You do this for all your dates?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm, her gaze fixed on the toy in his hands.

  “No. Now close your eyes.” The lights were off in the small space, but the late afternoon/early evening sunlight poured in through the windows. And he welcomed it, wanting to see her and gauge her reactions. “I’m not going to touch you yet. I promise.”

  “OK.” Eyes closed, her shoulders relaxed.

  He stood in front of her, out of reach, but close enough that she could hear every word as he turned the vibrator over in his hand. “I’m not going to lay a hand on you tonight, Lena. But I’d like to finish what we started. I want to watch your beautiful face as you come, see your body bend and arch from the pleasure. And I want to know I brought you there, even if I have to do it with a toy between us.

  “Tell me no, tell me to stop if it is too much, and I will. But right now, I want you to keep your eyes closed and lift your skirt. I want you to tease me with your long legs, beautiful.”

  Eyes closed, head tilted back, her fingers clutched the fabric of her dress, slowly drawing it higher.

  “That’s it. Draw it out, make me want you,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her bare skin. “Tonight. Right now. This is for you. But know that I want you, Lena. Looking at you, the thought of giving you pleasure, hearing you cry out, it all makes me hard.

  “Now lift your hips,” he ordered. “I want your skirt at your waist.”

  Lena rocked back on her elbows, her hips lifting high off the bed, her breasts thrust upward as her body formed a plank. That position—­fuck—­if only he could toss the toy aside and run his hands up her legs, touching and exploring her.

  “Like this?” she asked, lowering her hips to the bed, her long skirt hiding the curve of her slim waist. Her soft voice, devoid of fear, told him she was with him. Ready. Wanting.

  “Yeah. Like that.” His gaze narrowed in on her white lacy underwear. “Did you wear those for me? Hoping I’d catch a glimpse under your skirt?”

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  “Good answer. Now slip them off.”

  Raising her hips again, she wiggled the slip of lace off, kicking her panties away. Naked from the waist down, she leaned back on her elbows, her knees pressed together and her eyes closed.

  Kneeling at her feet, he pressed a button and the vibrator moved in his hand, shaking and rotating. “Spread your legs, Lena. Let me see you. Spread them wide.”

  “Chad—­”

  “Take your time. I’m not going to touch you. Not with my hands. I just want to look at you. See if you’re wet and ready. If you are, then, beautiful, I’m going to tease you with your new toy, let you feel the movement, waiting until you want more, until you ask for more,” he said, spelling out his game plan, hoping to dispel her fears—­and turning himself on in the process.

  Slowly, her thighs parted, her feet heel-­toeing apart. And, oh yeah, she was wet and ready.

  “You’re so damn beautiful, Lena.” He inched closer, still on his knees. Fighting the urge to press his hands against her and bury his face between her spread legs, he touched the vibrator against her right thigh. She gasped, her back arching, her ass pressing into the bed as her legs moved together.

  “Easy, Lena,” he murmured, mesmerized by her movements. He couldn’t remember ever taking a seduction this slow, watching his partner’s desire unravel piece by piece. It might be unusual, but it sure as hell worked for him. His cock agreed, pressing against his fly.

  “Keep your legs apart,” he said. “Unless you want me to stop.”

  “Don’t stop,” she said, obeying his instructions, her knees falling open again. He rewarded her, slowly moving the toy up her thigh until the rotating head was poised at her entrance. Running the tip over her, up and down, gently at first, and then with the slightest pressure, he teased her. He learned where she liked to be touched, listening to her moan as the vibrator toyed with her clit before moving lower.

  “More,” she said, that one word riding the boundary between command and plea. Her hands moved to her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples, as if trying to push herself closer to release.

  “Oh hell, yeah,” he said, his voice a low growl. He welcomed the help, loving the way her body responded to her touch.

  He pressed the vibrator inside her, watching the first inch disappear, then another, and another. Easing it in and out, he mimicked the thrusting motion his hips would make if he were inside her. Part of him wished it was his cock making her moan, her fingers falling away from her breasts and digging into the blankets. But damn, he loved watching her.

  “I’m going to make you come now, Lena.”

  SHE CLUNG TO his words, wanting to believe him. Chad had stayed true to every promise he’d made her so far. He hadn’t touched her, using the low, gravelly sound of his voice to connect the pulsing sensations racing through her body to the man kneeling between her splayed legs. But it was his respect for her boundaries, more than his dirty talk, that allowed her to open up, and really, truly feel the pleasure, the stirring of an orgasm, bigger and bolder than one delivered by her fingers.

  Her world had been divided for eighteen long months between the things she could have and everything else. And now, with his words inciting her senses, and the vibrations whipping her body into a frenzy, her world was a riot of rushing, blending feelings.

  Her hips bucked, seeking more. And he gave it to her, quickening the pace of his thrusts.

  “That’s it, beautiful, let go,” he murmured. “Come for me. I’m dying here, waiting to hear the sounds you make when you explode.”

  She moaned and arched, feeling her muscles tense around the silicone penis as it shook inside her. He pulled it back, thrusting it in one last time, holding it there as she fell apart.

  “More,” she pleaded, too far lost in her orgasm to know what she was begging for. She just did not want this to end. The vibrator moved in her, pulling back, then pushing forward, so deep she felt his hand against her skin. She opened her eyes, the orgasm spiraling higher and higher, propelled by his touch.

  Lifting her head, gasping for breath, she clung to the sheets. Chad stared back at her as if he wanted to stay kneeling between her legs, driving her wild. Hunger, need—­it was all there in his brown eyes.

  The orgasm ended and her heartbeat raced. But it wasn’t anxiety rearing its ugly head. Not this time. She’d reached the finish line. Maybe, just maybe, she was one step closer to the woman she’d been before her journey halfway around the world.

  Lena closed her eyes, resting her head back on the bed. The swell of nerves that had bubbled up as she’d read the blatant need written in his expression . . . that wasn’t fear. Her world had been bookended by anxiety for months now, and it didn’t feel like this.

  She felt him move away. The buzzing stopped. He’d turned off the toy. Opening her eyes, she stared at the ceiling wondering what to say to her pretend boyfriend, the man who’d delivered her first orgasm in mixed company in many, many months.

  “Lena?” His voice was soft and gentle, devoid of the naughty edge that slipped in when he issued commands.

  “Hmm?” she murmured.

  “You’re not thinking about your gun, are you?”

  She laughed, propping herself up her elbows. He’d set the toy aside and stood with his hands in his pockets, watching her with his trademark charming smile in place. “No. I’m still too shaky to handle firearms.”

  He nodded, his smile fading. “You would tell me if it was too much, right?”

  “It wasn’t.” She sat up, smoothing her skirts down over her legs. “It was different, but lovely.”
r />   “We need to work on your vocabulary.”

  Lena pressed her lips together, searching for the right word. She glanced at the vibrator on the nightstand. “It was perfect,” she said. “For me.”

  “So I get a gold star for creativity?”

  “Yes.” She smiled, suppressing a giggle. What was it about this man? She’d laughed more with him in two days than she had in so long. Most ­people tiptoed around her, their expressions grim and their actions wary. Maybe she’d needed that for a while. But Chad brushed past her barriers, delivering sweet-­talking charm and humor. And the words he used when he set aside the sweet . . .

  Tonight. Right now. This is for you. But know that I want you, Lena. Looking at you, the thought of giving you pleasure, hearing you cry out, it all makes me hard.

  Oh yes, this man deserved a gold star.

  “We’ll start a sticker chart for you after dinner.” She moved the chair and opened the bathroom door, freeing her disgruntled dog. “Good boy, Hero,” she murmured to the retriever.

  “If you two are ready, let’s get something to eat and show this town you’re mine,” Chad said. “Because Lena, right now, with your I-­just-­got-­out-­of-­bed glow, you look like you belong with me.”

  Chapter 7

  LENA STUDIED CHAD’S fluid, easy movements as he steered his pickup down into Independence Falls. Hero sat between them on the front bench, but Chad didn’t seem to mind. He had to be uncomfortable, and not just because there was a golden retriever breathing in his ear.

  She wasn’t the only one turned on by his experiment with the pink toy. But she’d left the room satisfied, her body still tingling. She’d been trained to pay attention to details and she’d seen the way he adjusted himself when he thought she wasn’t looking.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. “Do you want to turn back, take a little break before dinner? I know you’re probably eager to get your part of our deal in motion, but if you need a few minutes, I understand.”

  He cast a sideways glance at her before turning his attention back to the road. “Lena, did you just ask me if I need to jerk off?”

  “Yes.”

  He flashed a devilish grin, his eyes lit with amusement. “Would you like to watch?”

  Yes. No. “Maybe?”

  Chad laughed. “If you’d said yes, I might have turned the truck around. But I think I can keep it together long enough to get you fed. I appreciate the thought.”

  “You’re welcome.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And I think I might like to watch one day. I think there are a lot of things I might want to try.”

  “Stop teasing the man with the hard-­on who wants to buy you dinner.”

  She smiled at the playful note in his voice. “I’ll do my best. Where are we going?”

  “What do you like to eat?” He slowed the truck as they approached Main Street. The strip was lined with storefronts, a church on each corner, and a few restaurants. On one side of the street, the buildings touched, but across the pavement the lots had green spaces in between. And many of the restaurants used the grassy areas to set up outdoor seating.

  “I’m not picky,” she said. About food. Cramped indoor seating might ruin his plan. It would be hard to date a woman who refused to enter the restaurant—­or worse, caused a scene when she bolted two minutes after entering, a full-­blown panic attack nipping at her heels along with her dog.

  “Pizza? A Slice of Independence has picnic tables outside.”

  “Outdoors would be nice.” Lena exhaled, feeling as if she’d been holding her breath, waiting to take a shot at a target. One orgasm courtesy of a pink penis did not mean she was ready for a crowded restaurant on a Saturday night. “And I like pizza. Is it good?”

  “It’s the only pizza joint in town, so I’d say it’s the best there is.” He turned into the half-­filled parking lot, cut the engine, and hopped out. He was at her door opening it before she’d released her seat belt. “Why don’t you grab a table and I’ll go inside and place the order? Any requests, or are you willing to take a gamble on the special pie of the day?”

  “The special. Unless it has mushrooms.”

  Lena selected an empty red picnic table on the outskirts of the grassy seat-­yourself area. A family with two young kids, one barely walking and another that looked to be about the same age as Nate, Eric’s nephew, sat close to the door. Nearby, a young ­couple, probably still in high school, were splitting a pie. The seating area was visible from the street and cars occasionally slowed down to wave.

  Lena had to give him credit. Chad had picked the perfect spot. No crowds or noisy interior, plenty of space for her dog to lounge in the grass, yet still in full view of Independence Falls on a Saturday night.

  About ten minutes later, the screen door attached to the side of the brick building swung open and Chad walked out carrying a pizza, a stand, and a ­couple of plates. He smiled and called out a greeting to the family as he made his way to the table.

  “Trish is the only server working tonight and she’s slammed with customers inside, so I offered to play waiter.” Chad set up the stand on one side of the table and placed the pizza on it. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “I don’t mind.” She reached for a plate. “What are we having?”

  “The special had mushrooms, so I went traditional. Plain cheese on half and pepperoni on the other side,” he said. “Dig in. I’m going to run inside for our waters. Unless you want something stronger. A soda maybe? Or a lemonade?”

  “Water is fine.” She selected a slice of plain cheese and let it cool on her plate.

  Returning with the waters, Chad sat on the bench across from her. The young ­couple and the family stared at her, as if trying to figure out who she was. On the street, a car slowed, the raven-­haired twenty-­something driver nearly swerving off the road.

  “I feel like I’m eating in front of an audience,” she said, her voice low.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve brought a date here,” he said.

  “How long?”

  “Freshman year of high school.”

  She froze the pizza at her lips. “You gave up on dating that early?”

  “I’m kidding, Lena. It hasn’t been that long. A ­couple of years maybe.” He nodded to her dog. “Does Hero need a slice?”

  She shook her head, getting the hint. He didn’t want to talk about it. And she didn’t want to push. Her fake boyfriend’s dating history was none of her concern, especially when she had a mouth full of the best pizza she’d had in years. “No. He’s fine with dog food.”

  Her dog dropped his yellow duck toy and let out a bark as if he understood the words “dog” and “food” pertained to him. But she ignored him.

  “I would hate to waste this on an animal that mistakes a chair leg for dinner,” she said. “The crust is perfect. Not too thin. Not too thick. I haven’t had a pizza like this since I lived in New York.”

  “In the city?” He selected a slice of the pepperoni.

  “No. Upstate. I went to West Point.”

  “You always knew you wanted to be in the army?”

  “My father always knew he wanted me to follow in his footsteps and be in the army,” she corrected.

  “Your dad served?”

  She nodded, sliding a second slice onto her plate. “And my brother. He fought in Iraq.”

  “That must have been hard for your parents,” Chad said, leaning back. “To watch both their kids go to war.”

  No, it was what they’d wanted for their children, Lena thought, biting into the oh-­so-­perfect crust. Maybe not the war in the Middle East. But wearing the uniform? That had been their dream from day one.

  “My brother was home by the time I graduated and deployed,” she said. There was so much more to the story, but she wasn’t ready to share the details yet.


  “Your family must be proud of you.” She could feel Chad watching her carefully. “For receiving a Silver Star.”

  “I’m sure they are. My dad grew up very poor. His parents moved to Texas from Mexico when he was about ten. They became citizens, my dad went to school, and my grandfather’s business thrived. They love this country. As soon as my dad was old enough, he enlisted, determined to serve. He dreamed about sending his kids to military schools, but my brother followed in his footsteps, enlisting when he turned eighteen. The day I graduated from West Point, my father cried. He was so proud of me.”

  Chad set his half-­eaten slice on his plate. “Lena, you can tell me to mind my own business if you want, but why aren’t they helping you now?”

  “They don’t understand,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Physically. But I refuse to go back and serve another tour. I’m done. I don’t think they could accept that. They didn’t understand.

  “Maybe if there was one event that I could point to and say this why I can’t move forward with my life. But it’s not isolated to the images in my nightmares. Waking up every day not knowing if someone will attack your unit. Wondering about IEDs every time you get into a truck or go out on patrol . . . it builds and builds until your normal is fear.”

  She selected another slice of piece. “My normal is fear right now. It wasn’t like that for my brother or father. Their injuries healed, to the extent they ever will, following the timeline set out by their doctors. My family expected the same would be true for me.”

  “So they gave up on you,” he said. “Like your ex?”

  “You’re awfully nosy for a fake boyfriend.”

  “Just hard to imagine walking away from you, Lena. You’re beautiful and fascinating. And you must have done some pretty amazing stuff over there to receive a medal from the vice president.” Chad offered her another slice of pepperoni pizza, but she shook her head. “Plus your ex drove all the way down here to give you that envelope.”