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For Love or Country

Page 12

by Jesse Jordan


  Still, I can feel the warmth in my chest as we kiss, and I moan lightly when his hand massages my breast through my uniform top, and I feel the bulge in his pants when I cup him, both of us bordering on the edge of not caring any more. We haven't had a chance to make love since the road trip back from Colorado, and for the first time in my life, I understand what it means to need a man, not just want him. My heart is hammering in my chest when we slide apart just a few inches, and my first breath is shuddering and deep. “I've been thinking about us, that's why.”

  “I have been thinking about us a lot too. A lot of women would be afraid of a man who loses his temper twice so quickly, punching out her father and then nearly assaulting a DPE officer,” Ivan says. “You are remarkable to stick with me. Or foolish, I have heard that said too.”

  “You're not the only one who's heard that comment,” I chuckle, then the laughter dies away, and I'm nervous. “Ivan... this is very hard for me. The only man in my life really before you was my father, and you saw how he is. And then there's the fact that... well, you'll have to some day go back to the Ukraine. That's hard for me, you know.”

  “Me too,” Ivan says softly, pulling me close against him and letting me lean against his chest. “I did not expect to come to America and find a woman like you. I expected to spend my four years like I did my Plebe year, playboying. I never thought that... that I'd meet you.”

  We sit on the bench, and I take his hand, kissing the knuckles. “You've been so patient with me, Ivan. Please be a little more patient, it's hard to work past the scar tissue on my heart sometimes. But... you are special to me. I've never felt this way for any other man, and I want to stay with you as long as I can.”

  Ivan swallows, and then kisses my temple, his voice raspy with feeling. “Thank you, Christina. I have great feeling for you too. I... it is hard to say, I am sorry that I am too weak to say how I truly feel.”

  It's enough though, and we hold each other a little while longer, and when we stand up, walking the rest of the way down Flirty towards the barracks, I'm not upset at all. Instead, just inside the final marker that notes the end of Flirtation Walk, I turn and we kiss deeply, a single foot inside safe territory, and I step back, smiling. “Come on. You need some sleep so you can take care of your hours tomorrow. My only regret is that I can't walk them with you.”

  Ivan chuckles and reaches for my hand, before a cough and cleared throat from the shadows reminds us that I've stepped back into Cadet Area. Ivan groans darkly and nods in the direction of whoever warned us, and he lowers his hand, instead stepping forward and putting his hands behind his back as we start to walk. “You can watch, if you want. Bring a book, sit on the grass next to Nininger, and you can tease me with a big bottle Gatorade or something.”

  “I'm not that cruel. But when you get finished, stop by my room, I'll have that big bottle in Alicia's fridge. She's on leave, the hell with it, she can keep a bottle cold for a day, right?”

  It's a little weird being one of only four Firsties in the battalion still in the barracks. Still, it's quiet that way, and I'm able to get a lot of homework done. It's been like a roadblock cleared for me since Ivan punched out my father and later telling me why. With someone to encourage me to step out of my shell, I feel stronger, and while it's scary, I know that Karli and Ivan are there for me. It's showing in my academic work too, I feel like the few papers I've had to turn in have come easier than before. I'm getting better grades too, more Bs and As instead of Cs.

  I'm just finishing up my social psychology reading when there's a knock on my door, and Ivan comes in, having changed into his PT uniform. He looks drained, but he's got something in his hand when I get up to hand him the blue bottle of Gatorade, his eyes beseeching. “What's this?”

  “One of the first ways I could tell how you felt about me was your artwork,” Ivan says. “I have mentioned it before, but I've never shown anyone. I said last night that I am having trouble with the words, but...”

  I understand and take the notebook from his hand, seeing that it's not quite as big as the sketch pad that I like to use, it's more like a normal sized paper, but when I open the front cover, I'm shocked.

  It's me, but different than I've ever seen before. Ivan's style is almost hyper realistic, just in blacks and whites, but looking at me, I'm shocked at the details. I can see the small scar on my lip from the bicycle accident when I was eight, and there's the curl of hair by my right ear that I always have to fuss with before formations, it never seems to stay in place.

  But in each pencil stroke, I see something more. I see the same feelings I have for Ivan, reflected back at me. I see the way he sees me, not plain or even sometimes dumpy like I felt for most of my first three years at West Point, but beautiful. This is an old drawing too, I'm in my class uniform and I can see the two bars on my collar, last year’s. “Ivan....”

  “Please, turn the page,” he quietly says, and I do. Image after image, a dozen in all, each of them done with painstaking, loving details. Me in my parade uniform, my body looking strong. Me studying, a desk lamp illuminating half my face. I even blush when I turn the page and see me in my swimsuit, not in some sexy, cheesy pinup pose, but caught mid-air diving into the water. The final two are from our time on leave together, me driving my Honda and then from Beast, R-day in fact as I'm the Cadet In The Red Sash, strong and beautiful and commanding. “Christina, I have never felt this way for any other woman. I do not talk about my faith much, but I have gotten into the habit of praying every night for a miracle. A miracle that lets us stay together not just for this year, but for years to come.”

  I swallow and know what I want to say, but the scar tissue is still too strong. Instead, I close the book and set it on my desk, then open my desk drawer and take out a little cloth bag, something I put together just in case. “Grab your drink and come with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Ivan asks, and I look at him with desire in my eyes. “Christina....”

  “Karli's clued me in on places where we can take the risk reasonably. And right now, I need to take that risk with you,” I tell him. “Now get your drink.”

  Ivan and I walk, out of cadet areas and down towards the Field House. The sun is setting, and when we reach the lower level I lead him along the two mile run course nearly all the way to the end of the road, where the outbuilding is located. It's old, and according to Karli it's an unused substation in the Academy's steam system that provides heat and backup power for important buildings.

  “Would it offend you if I told you I know of this place?” Ivan asks as he shoulders the door open, the latch having broken off long ago. “I suspect many others do as well.”

  “I think it's probably part of the hypocrisy of the Corps,” I reply. “They want us to be little robots, but know that we can't. But they can't just treat us like adults, that would be admitting the tin soldier routine is nothing but crap. So they overlook places like this. But right now, I'm not thinking about the Corps.”

  There's barely any light inside the building, which is little more than a cinderblock shack with some dusty machinery inside, but it doesn't matter. I'm barely turned around when Ivan pushes me against the wall, his lips crushing mine as we let our passion flare. We can make love tenderly, but that isn't what we need, or what we have time for. This has to be quick, we can't trust that our privacy will stay that way for long. “In the bag.... condom.”

  Ivan rumbles in Ukrainian I guess, but I don't care, he feels so good, his hands squeezing my ass and his lips kissing my mouth and throat. He slips a hand inside my shorts and I'm moaning, wet and needing him, the hard bulge of his cock grinding against my hip too much to deny. I reach into his shorts and stroke him, pulling him out and pumping his shaft with my hand, desperate.

  “Ivan...” I whisper, and he turns me around, pushing me towards a machine. The pipe is the perfect height and I grab it, bending over as Ivan yanks my shorts down, my pussy dripping
wet as I rub myself while he puts the condom on. I don't really want the condom, but we're not there yet. Ivan grabs the hem of my shirt as he lines himself up, and with one hard, powerful thrust, he buries his cock inside me, both of us half grunting, half screaming at the sensation.

  He's tearing me open, it's been too long since I've felt his cock inside me, but I don't care, the pain mixes with the pleasure and in just a few seconds is gone. The feeling of his cock hammering in and out of me leaves me breathless, overcome with pleasure as his hips slap into me, my ass warming from impact after impact. I'm trying to control myself from crying out, it feels so good, but I can't. In desperation I reach back and grab his wrist, putting his powerful hand on my throat and covering my mouth with my forearm as Ivan keeps pounding, driving me crazy with lust and need.

  I'm nearly coming, and when Ivan's hand squeezes slightly I moan deeper, giving myself to him. He's not rough, just strong, undeniable as his fingers cut off the blood to my brain, leaving me in a sex crazed haze that, in an instant, has me coming hard, my pussy clamping down on his cock and milking him for every drop. Ivan grunts, muttering something in Ukrainian that I can't grasp, my hearing's fading, all I know is the pleasure of coming around his cock as my brain slowly starves for fresh oxygen, but I can feel him come, and as the world goes gray, I'm overcome with total and complete pleasure. I try to say how I feel, but my brain fades out, and I'm left floating in a perfect cocoon of happiness.

  Chapter 12

  Ivan

  Christina wears the bruises on her throat from our lovemaking with pride for the next week, Karli giving me knowing looks when the three of us study together in my room the night my roommate has duty in Central Guard Room. “Damn you two...”

  “Karli....” I warn, and Christina laughs. “What?”

  “You're not going to stop her, Ivan. You know that. So don't sweat it.”

  Karli helps me with my English homework, reviewing how to put together a better opening paragraph for an argumentative essay while Christina works on some engineering, then the two of them review that. At a few minutes to ten in the evening, she gathers her books, smiling. “Okay you two, I've got a date with Chaz.”

  “You have a boyfriend? Congratulations,” I say, and Karli laughs. “What?”

  “Chaz is a character in Karli's favorite late night drama that starts in five minutes,” Christina explains. “Not all women are lucky enough to be dating someone like you.”

  “Yeah yeah, don't rub it in that I only get to rub them out,” Karli jokes in her usual crass fashion before leaving. Christina looks over at me and shrugs.

  “What're you gonna do? She's the best friend I've got here, even if she has a gutter mouth.”

  “I do not mind. I've heard worse, and she's helping me with English class. What about you, how are you feeling?”

  Christina blushes, then picks up her books. “Like I want to stay, but if I do, then there's no way in hell I'm going to be ready for my engineering quiz tomorrow. So I'll head back to my room. Ivan....”

  “I know, Christina. I'll see you in the morning, we can walk to first period together. Remember, tomorrow you find out your branch assignment, we can celebrate that too.”

  “Celebrate or commiserate,” Christina half-jokes and leaves. I take a moment to gather my thoughts again before trying to open my books again. I'm taking military history, and some of the videos and ideas presented conflict directly with what I have learned in the past. 'Mil Art' is not just about how to fight, but why to fight, and the ideas that the Academy teachers are saying.... they are conflicting with what I've been taught. They present a side of America that is very different, one that a growing side of me wishes that my own people would understand. I'm not saying that America has lived up to the ideals of what they are teaching me in Mil Art, but at least they dream to be more than what they are.

  I'm waiting nervously in the rotunda outside of Robinson Auditorium along with a few other cadets, who are waiting to find out what their significant others are getting for their branch of the Army. I can hear Colonel Renquist through the door, muffled but still his voice is easily distinguished. He's probably giving the Firsties some sort of rah-rah speech, or telling them how important it is to focus themselves on the needs of the branch the little brass pin inside their envelopes represent. To put themselves on the altar of the Army, as if the sacrifices the Firsties have made so far isn't proof enough of their willingness to serve their country.

  I hear whispers off to my left and I look over, seeing a couple of Cows. I think I remember one from the Brigade Boxing Open, he was the cornerman for my semifinal opponent. “Hey... check out the Mad Russian. Guess he's waiting for Flipper.”

  I roll my eyes and ignore him pointedly, but at the same time I have to take a little pride in Christina's new nickname. Sure, some of the fucktards are trying to make fun of her, but both Christina and I have taken a sense of perverse pride in our nicknames. We both understand that it stems from the fear that they have of us, of jealousy and intimidation.

  The doors open, and the Firsties start to file out, some excited, and more than a few looking disappointed. I know that there are parties being put on by all the various branches at various places around post, where a lot of the Firsties are going to get themselves wasted and come back to the barracks half drunk or more.

  I see Christina come out of the auditorium, a dejected look on her face. I wave and she sees me, coming over with a brave but still disappointed look on her face. I see it pinned on her gray tunic, Chemical Corps. “Not your first choice.”

  “Number five, actually. Apparently, the MPs, the Quartermasters, the Finance, and the AG don't want me. I'm going to be twitching and having a nervous disorder by the time I'm thirty. You mind having a girlfriend whose hair has fallen out because of exposure to supposedly totally safe materials?”

  “I do not care if you end up bald and with only eight toes,” I reassure her. “What I care about is you. So, are you going to go celebrate?”

  Christina nods, then points. “Chemical's got a small party over at some Lieutenant Colonel's house nearby. I'll go, be polite, have a glass of wine or two, and be back by ten. By the way, when you see Karli, give her a congratulations, she got what she wanted. Medical if she gets accepted to med school, and if not she's in Military Intelligence.”

  I smile and nod. “Okay. If I see her. Where is she?”

  “She took the side exit, I think she said that MI's party is down by the docks.” Someone calls Christina's name, and she looks over, waving to a Captain. “Okay, that's Captain Delgado, he's showing us the way to the party. I'll see you later?”

  “Of course. And Christina?” I say, and she turns back, questioning. “I am proud of you. Congratulations.”

  Christina, for the first time since coming out, smiles before heading off with Captain Delgado. I leave, walking towards Pershing. I'm just leaving when my cell phone buzzes, and I turn right, heading towards Patton Statue to text privately.

 

 

  I wait, fuming. I can't put these assholes off forever, regardless of how many rumors or little pieces of information I try to feed them. I have even just made up shit every once in a while, but unless I send them pictures of my cock buried inside my targets, they are not going to be satisfied. I'm quickly running out of options.

 

  The next message makes my blood run cold as I read the name on my phone's screen.

  The picture comes through, and it's Karli all right.

 

 

  My phone is silent for a moment, and I hope that my handlers are going to reconsider their order, I just need time to think of something, anything... I cannot betray Christina, never.

  cannot do your mission, Agent, then we will apply pressure to encourage you to complete your mission.>

 

  Another photo comes through, and my mouth goes dry as I see Christina and I, our arms around each other during a day we spent in New York City. We went to Coney Island, rode the Cyclone, and relaxed on the beach together. It was my best memory of summer, actually.

 

 

  There's no reply, and when I try to send another reply, the message comes back as undelivered before my phone fades out. I stare at it, and want to throw it. I want to crush it, I want to see if I can send the pieces flying all the way into the Hudson River. But... I can't.

  I know what I have to do.

  I have to find Christina. I have to protect her, even if it costs me everything, including her.

  Chapter 13

  Christina

  It is nearly Taps when I get back to my room, the Chem Corps had their party farther away than most of the others, and I actually get lost trying to walk back. I'm surprised though to find Ivan sitting in my room when I come in, his face ghostly white and strained. “Oh thank God you are safe,” he says, springing to his feet and hugging me. “I was scared when you didn't come back by ten.”

  “I got lost, it's okay,” I tell him, wiggling back. We're in my room and my roomie isn't here, this isn't safe. And while the feeling of his arms holding me is good, I don't want him getting in any more trouble. Besides, there was something in his voice and face that worries me. “Ivan, what's wrong? You look scared out of your wits.”

 

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