by jc santo
“Hunter,” Jo grabs his attention, “Is Marsh okay?”
With another gloomy nod he lifts his chin in the direction of the door. “Yeah, just got stood up again by this douche bag Preston. I don’t know the dude, but I can already tell you, I don’t fuckin’ like him.”
We see Marshall heading over to us, his head is downcast and shoulders are slightly slumped. As soon as he sees us his posture changes and I can almost see the fake mask slip into place.
“Darlin’,” I call to grab Jo’s attention. When she comes over, I whisper in her ear, “You may need to pull the friend card tonight and make sure Marsh is alright.”
She plants a kiss to my lips and gives me a firm head nod with a wink before walking away and immediately pulling Marsh out to the dance floor.
I turn back to the table to see a very timid looking guy awkwardly hugging Tess and Miller. After studying him for a moment I finally place him; this is Clark.
“Clark, you remember J.C.?”
I place my hand in his. “Hey man, good to see ya.”
“Hey J.C. How’s it going?”
“Pretty good, just buyin’ time till my discharge paperwork is completed.”
A waitress comes by and hands off two beers I ordered for Jo and I, seeing as how she’s out on the dance floor, I hand one to Clark and keep the other for myself. We both take a swig and fall into an easy conversation about the Navy, of course.
“So who else is here with you guys?” he asks.
“Well, you saw Tess and Miller already, and I’m assuming you’ve met T’s husband Hunter?” He nods. “Let’s see, Reed and his girlfriend Tegan are somewhere around here; probably on the dance floor together, where my wife is with one of her best friends.”
“Oh yeah, Fuentes, right?”
I grunt, irritated that Jo has yet to file all of the paperwork to change her last name.
“Yeah, soon to be Collins. She needs to hurry up and get her damn name changed,” I say more to myself than him.
He laughs, “Understandable. If I were married to her, I’d definitely want everyone to know.”
“So tell me, you got anyone back home? Where is it you’re from again?” I quickly realize I know nothing about this guy and I’m unsure how to take his comment about my wife.
“I’m from Massachusetts. And no, no one special back home. I severed all ties when I joined the Navy.”
Not wanting to pry, I simply nod in understanding.
“Ahh. Well, I’m glad you came out tonight. You seem to fit in with everyone so far and this group has become its own type of dysfunctional family. We’re always open to bringing in more strays,” I say with a wink.
He laughs and we both fall into a trance watching the dance floor.
With an awkward grunt, he points the neck of his beer towards Jo’s moving body.
“Uh, who is that big tattooed guy all over Fuen—I mean, your wife?”
I chuckle both at his attempt to cover up calling her by her maiden name and the fact that he’s worried about who Jo is dancing with.
“I said she was with one of her best friends, I didn’t say the best friend is a six-foot-something, body-builder lookin’, gay guy.”
“Her best friend is a gay guy?”
“Yep. He’s Hunter’s twin brother too.”
“Oh—okay.”
The confusion on his face is easy to read and hard to not laugh at. Dysfunctional is the perfect word to describe this family...I can’t imagine what people go through to figure out how we’re all connected.
I don’t bother to try to ease some of his puzzlement. I’m too enthralled watching Jo dance. It only takes a few minutes of seeing her shake her ass and all the hungry eyes of surrounding men before I succumb to my need to stake my claim takes over. With purpose, I finish my beer and place it on the table before stalking out to the crowded dance floor, pulling her by her small hips into me.
Even without seeing my face, her body immediately sinks into mine, turning into pliable mush. Jo is typically so in control, she’s wound up tight with determination and carries a sense of authority. As sexy as I find that about her, I much prefer this side of her. The soft, feminine side who loves a strong man to take some of that control and burden from her shoulders.
Jo
Feeling his arms and body mold to mine are my safe haven. I don’t know what heaven feels like, but this, being in the arms of a man I know loves me, this is my very own little slice of it.
We fall into a rhythm of grinding against one another until the song comes to an end and is replaced by a slower one. Part of me wants to feel J.C.’s arms around me longer, but I know I will have that later tonight; I want to be sure that Marsh is okay.
He has become a professional at wearing the ‘everything is good’ facade, but I can see through it. For months I wore that same mask so it’s easy for me to see the pain that he tries to hide.
Walking up to the bar where he’s standing, I link my arm with his.
“You okay?”
“I will be. Just sucks, I was looking forward to introducing him to everyone.”
“Maybe something came up?”
He sighs and pulls at the label of his beer bottle.
“Something always comes up, Jo. I’m beginning to question whether this guy’s worth it or not.”
My heart breaks for my friend. Marsh is the sweetest guy in the world. Seriously, if he was straight, I’m positive J.C. and Hunter would have never had a shot with Tess and I.
This isn’t the first time Marshall has invited this guy, Preston, around us but every
time he’s cancelled or flaked at the last minute. I hate to be judgmental since I don’t know what the deal is with this guy, but I can’t help but already hold a slight grudge against him for putting Marsh through all of this.
A round of four shots appears in front of us and I look to Marsh to see him looking back at me with an expectant face and an arched eyebrow.
“Might as well start drinkin’ him away, at least for the night, yeah?”
His phone chimes with a text but Marsh stays focused on me, completely disregarding it. I pick up one of the shots and shrug a shoulder.
“What are good friends for?”
With that, we both toss back our first shot followed quickly by our second ones.
I grab the bartender’s attention and order three beers then we turn to head back to the table where our friends are.
About twenty feet from the table, Marsh calls out, “What the fucking fuck?”
It’s said in a hushed tone, almost as if he wasn’t anticipating me hearing him.
“What?” I ask and immediately begin scanning the room and Marshall for anything that could be wrong.
“Nothing,” his eyes are glued to his phone as he furiously types out a text message. “Just more bullshit with Preston.”
The urge to say something along the lines of ‘fuck him, you can do better’ is a hard one to fight, but I know this isn’t the time or place to have that type of conversation. But we will have it soon if this Preston dude doesn’t get his shit straight.
“Hey Clark, you made it!” I exclaim as we step up to the table
“Oh hey, Jo,” Clark says with an awkward hug.
“Marsh, this is Clark, he works with Reed and me.”
Clark apprehensively holds out his hand for Marsh to shake; not surprising, Marsh can be quite intimidating upon first meeting, especially when he’s angry, which he is tonight. He takes Clark’s hand, albeit reluctantly, and gives a very short, stiff handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Marsh.”
“Yeah, you too. Clark, is it?”
“Uh, yeah.”
I’m not alone in witnessing the uncomfortable exchange between these two.
This behavior isn’t like Marsh at all, that talk is coming a lot sooner rather than later.
With the exception of the uneasy meeting with Marshall, Clar
k seems to fall right into place with everyone. It’s still early to say, but it seems as though we might be throwing more invites out to him for our get-togethers.
Watching our group of friends, it’s crazy to see the difference a year makes. It wasn’t that long ago that we all stood here in this very same bar and were introduced to Hunter, then shortly after, Tegan. Our group has grown, the love between all of us multiplying.
The night continues on with more drinks, laughs, and of course, dancing. As more drinks flow through everyone, and the flirtier the couples become, it becomes a game of who will be the first man to have enough of our constant teasing.
Although I expected it would be Hunter who was first to insist on leaving, I’m surprised when I look around after my third or fourth trip to the bathroom and see that Reed and Bug have disappeared.
Tess reads my mind and answers my unasked question.
“Reed hauled her out of here as soon as you were out of eyesight.” She tosses back another shot just as Hunter comes up and wraps both arms around her waist.
With a whisper in her ear and a giggle from Tessa’s lips, she turns her attention back to me.
“I think we’re going to head home, too.”
Part of me wants to protest and demand she stay here with me, but to be dead honest, I’m exhausted. My heels are killing my feet and I want nothing more than to get out of this strapless bra and tight dress.
I dip my head back and release a breath of air before looking back at where Tess is waiting for my response.
“Good, I’m ready to go, too.” We both laugh at our lack of partying skills. “I’m getting too damn old for this partying. Next time, can we just all get together at someone’s house and get drunk in our comfy clothes?”
Tess high fives me. “Fuck yes. Gettin’ drunk in my yoga pants? I’m so in.”
“Have you seen my husband?” I ask Hunter who’s tidying up our table.
“Yeah, he was over by the pool tables a few minutes ago with Clark. I think Marshall was over there too, we need to find him so we can head out.”
The three of us walk over together to say goodbye to Clark and collect J.C. and Marshall.
Seeing him bent over the pool table lining up a shot, I can’t help the slight moan that comes out at the sight of his tight ass.
A nudge from Tess pulls me from my perfect view to see that I’m not the only one who’s noticed my man. A former hang around skank, Sheena, is practically drooling as she eye-fucks J.C.
Hmm, time to burst this bitch’s bubble.
I walk up just as J.C. sinks his ball and takes a step back from the table. He doesn’t have an opportunity to greet me before my lips are on his. Thankfully, he isn’t shocked by my need to show he’s mine. The hand not holding his pool stick goes to my chin tilting my face to the side more, allowing him to control the speed of the kiss. My hands roam his sculpted back as he dominates my mouth.
He slowly ends the kiss and pulls back slightly, not acknowledging the world around us but instead captivated by me.
“What was that for?” he finally says, somewhat out of breath. “Not that I’m complaining. You feel free to lay one of those kisses on me any damn time you want.”
“Just wanted to see if I could convince you to head home now?”
He smiles. “So the fact that Sheena was over here on the prowl for a willing bed partner tonight had nothing to do with that little display?”
I drop my chin in slight embarrassment, but he picks it back up.
“Don’t hide from me. I love that you just told her to fuck off in the best way possible. Now, let’s go home, but you’re gonna have to walk in front of me. My jeans are a little stiff after all of that.”
A blush creeps up my cheeks and I bite my bottom lip in anticipation of what’s to come when we arrive home.
“Hey, Marsh,” J.C. calls out, still holding me next to him. “We’re gonna get out of here.”
I step back somewhat and look at J.C.’s face to make sure he’s okay with breaking our connection. When he nods, I turn to see Tess staring at us, bewildered.
“What?”
“That, was the hottest thing I’ve seen in forever.”
“Oh, whatever! Like you and Hunter haven’t had some of those steamy moments in front of all of us!”
She looks over at her husband, then back to me. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had any of those moments, but I have a feeling we may make up for that tonight…”
As if on cue, Hunter turns and locks eyes with Tess.
“Sailor girl, you ready to get out of here?” He pulls her into his side. “I’m more than ready to take you to our empty home.”
The meaning of his statement isn’t lost on me in the slightest.
“What about Marsh?” Tess asks.
Before Hunter can say they’ll still drop him off, he jumps into the conversation.
“Don’t worry about me, T. I can get an Uber.”
“No, you won’t,” I say. “J.C. and I will give you a ride.”
He looks over at me with animosity laced in his eyes. “Okay.”
With Marshall’s ride taken care of, Hunter and Tess head out.
“What was that?” I quickly spin around towards Marsh as soon as they’re out of earshot.
“What?” Marshall asks incredulously.
“I saw that look Marshall; don’t pretend like you didn’t just give me attitude when I suggested you ride home with us.”
He rubs the back of his neck and huffs out a breath.
“Look, I know tonight didn’t go the way I planned, but I’m fine. No need for any of you guys to baby me. I’ve gone out many times alone and have managed just fine. You need to go home with your husband and focus on your new marriage; I can handle my personal life.”
“Marsh, all of us are just concerned.”
“I know that Jo, I’m fine. Preston had something come up again, but it didn’t ruin my night.” He tugs me into his side in a hug. “Take J.C. home and show him more of that little sample you just gave him. I can catch a ride with the new kid or call an Uber. I’ll be fine, babe.”
“The new kid has a name,” I say, somewhat protective of Clark after their initial meeting earlier.
“Yeah, Clark, I know. I’ll learn it eventually, I’m sure.”
I can see the frustration rolling off of him now although he’s trying to reel it back and not lash out at me or the undeserving Clark.
“You sure? It’s not a big deal for us to give you a lift home.”
“Sure that I want you to go home and get some dick? Yes, positive.”
“Marshall!”
“What? Someone needs to put out for that man tonight. Might as well be the one whose mouth he just fucked in front of the whole bar, who he happens to be married to.”
I smile, unable to help myself. He did just rock my world with a kiss.
“Alright, we’re getting out of here then. You call me tomorrow, got it?”
“Yes dear.”
I turn and pull J.C. away from the conversation he’s in the middle of with Clark and quickly lead him out of the bar.
We can’t get home fast enough after that kiss.
J.C.
We’re barely inside our apartment before I’m on Jo. Her staking her claim on me in front of Sheena was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.
I’ve had women try to pull that same type of thing off before, but it’s never worked out for them. I’ve always found it to be annoying and even desperate that a woman, who’s no more than a one-night stand for me, felt it was necessary to make some kind of obscene gesture in public. Showing everyone that we’re together, even if it was only for a night.
My wife pulling that move though….
It. Was. Hot.
I could have laid her back on that pool table right there in the middle of the bar and had my way with her after her act of possessiveness. The only thing that ke
pt me from doing just that was the tiny voice in the back of my head telling me that everyone in the bar would see Jo’s body and hear her pleasure.
I blindly guide her through the small living room and push her back onto the couch, following her down and never separating our lips. One hand sits at the base of her neck, guiding her head how I want it, while the other idly skims her waist, thigh, and breast.
I want nothing more than to peel her tight dress off and fuck her and I both into an oblivion, but she has other plans.
She wraps a leg around my waist, and in what feels like a karate move, flips me over and straddles me.
My sexual desire heightens tenfold, but before I'm able to act on it, she quickly climbs off my lap and runs to the kitchen, laughing the entire way.
“Don't think you ain't gonna pay for that, Jo!” I yell teasingly as she skirts around the bar.
I sit momentarily, trying to calm my raging hormones.
Finally calm enough to think, and walk, I follow her path to the kitchen. Standing in the entryway, I watch as she collects our drinks and goes about rummaging through our fridge to find something to cure her drunk munchies.
Seeing her stumble around while she finds all the ingredients she needs entices me; most would find humorous, but I don’t. I see my Jo. This crazy, fun girl is the one who stole my heart months ago. Traces of the old Jo are becoming more and more common, telling us all that she’s getting back to herself.
I silently thank the Lord that she’s finding her way back to me, to all of us.
“What are you making?” I ask, seeing the gallon of milk, shredded cheese, and a package of ham in her hands.
“Omelets!” Jo drunkenly replies.
For the thousandth time tonight, I’m thankful that us guys—Hunter, Reed, and I—all chose to keep our drinking to a minimum of three beers throughout the entire night. My phone chimed with texts from both of them a short while ago letting me know they’d made it home safely with their drunk girls.
“Darlin’, you ain’t cookin’ tonight.”
She cocks a hand on her hip and arches an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
I walk over and pull the ingredients out of her hands, place them on the counter beside the stove, grab a small skillet and instruct her to grab the eggs from the fridge. It doesn’t take me long to whip up two ham and cheese omelets and we’re both seated at the four seater table in the conjoined dining room.
