Freedom

by Riley Edwards

  Shower? Did I just tell her we were going to shower? Together? What the hell was it about this woman that made me lose my mind?

  “What about you? Do I get to return the favor?”

  Time to move this along. Once the edge was off and she was thinking clearly without the sexual fog clouding her judgment, she’d put a stop to this. We’d drink some coffee, retreat to our own rooms, and I’d take a shower – alone – and jerk off thinking about fingering her.

  “Keep your hands above my waist,” I growled. “Tell me, Rea. Are you wearing shorts under this tee or just panties?”

  “Just panties,” she squeaked and shifted, bringing her feet closer together.

  I sucked on her neck and pulled the hem of her shirt up, making sure I touched her flesh as I slowly pulled it up. When I broke the suction to rip the shirt over her head, I lost her hands on my skin but gained so much more. I nearly swallowed my tongue when her full unobscured breasts came into view. She shifted again, rubbing her thighs together.

  “You are so beautiful, sweets.”

  I was right, the blush did extend down over the top of her breasts, and her nipples pebbled under my scrutiny. She was unable to stand still. I wasn’t sure if it was because she wasn’t used to standing almost naked in front of a man, or if it was because she was trying to gain some friction between her legs. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a little of both.

  After another few seconds of enjoying watching her squirm, I lowered my head, deciding I had tortured both of us enough. I needed to taste her. With a long swipe of my tongue, I licked one nipple while I used my hand to plump and squeezed her other breast.

  “Oh, God.” She pushed further into me.

  Once I’d spent a good amount of time lavishing both of her breasts with my mouth and hands, I lifted my head and watched as I lowered my hand down her belly to the top of her panties. I needed to make sure she was with me every step. Satisfied when she thrust her hips in my direction, I pushed under the material and felt her soft curls. The tip of my middle finger grazed her clit, and her body jerked, and her eyes flew open.

  Damn, she was beautiful. Her hazel eyes were clouded over and unfocused.

  “You still good?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Please touch me.”

  “I want to kiss you, Rea, is that okay?”

  She giggled and stared at me with hilarity dancing in her eyes. “Um, Clark, your hand is in my panties, and I’m begging you to touch me. Of course, you can kiss me.”

  I suppose my question would sound absurd to someone who didn’t have any hang-ups about kissing. I hadn’t allowed a woman to kiss my mouth in a very long time. If memory serves, my bitch of an ex-wife was the last person I’d kissed. Not that I’d tell that to Reagan. It made me sound like a douchebag. Which I was, but kissing to me was an act of intimacy. Yet another thing I’d have to analyze after Reagan was gone. Why the hell did I want to kiss her more than I wanted my next breath? I didn’t tell her that either. Instead, I said, “Nolan. When my hands and mouth are on you, I am Nolan.”

  I didn’t know why the fuck I’d said that. Telling her I wanted to kiss her was one thing, but demanding she call me by a name I hated was something else entirely. It was fucked up – that’s what it was.

  “Please kiss me, Nolan.”

  Our mouths collided, our tongues touched, and I devoured her. There was no other word for it. I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t coax her tongue to meet mine. I inhaled her like she was my last breath.

  When my middle finger started to make slow, hard circles on her clit, she bucked into me and dug her nails into my back. Hell yeah! I dipped my middle finger into her heat, gathering moisture, dragging it back up to her clit, and she bit my lip before kissing me harder.

  “Please,” she whined into my mouth. Before I could respond, she was back to kissing me.

  I made sure the heel of my hand was over her clit before I pushed a finger into her pussy and groaned at the tightness. She pulsed and throbbed against my finger and ground down on the heel of my hand. There was no use trying to take a calming breath or thinking about baseball stats; she was so sexy I was going to shoot off in my boxers like a teenager. And I couldn’t bring myself to care. Somehow, knowing that it was Reagan that could make me come without even touching my cock drove me insane.

  “That’s it, Reagan, ride my hand. You’re so fucking wet you’re dripping.” I curled my finger up and added pressure, causing her to buck and try and pull away. “Relax, baby. Let it happen, don’t pull away from it.”

  “I can’t, Nolan. I can’t.”

  “You can. You’re close. I can feel you squeezing and clenching my finger. Fuck my fingers and let go.” I pulled my finger out and quickly pushed back in with two. Her hips thrust forward, and she let out a low guttural moan. “You are so goddamn beautiful. I want you to come for me.”

  Lowering my head, I took her nipple into my mouth and sucked hard. Reagan flew apart in my arms, detonating my orgasm. I didn’t need any touching or friction, just having my fingers inside Reagan knowing that I brought her off for the first time was enough. I slowed my pace, coming to a stop when I felt the last of her orgasm slip away. I kissed up her chest and neck until I ended with a final peck on her lips.

  “Wow,” she whispered. I didn’t know what I’d expected when I looked at her face, but a huge breathtakingly beautiful smile was not it. No signs of regret or embarrassment were present - just a look of wonderment. “Holy shit. I think I understand now what all the fuss is about. If that happens every time you orgasm, then sign me up because that is fantastic.” Her excitement was contagious, and I found myself chuckling right along with her. “Seriously Nolan, how have I gone my whole life not ever having one of those. I mean at first it felt kinda weird like I got hot all over, then it almost felt like it was going to hurt, so I wanted to get away from it, but when you started pushing up top and rubbing really hard I felt like I was going to convulse. Then, holy shit, when you bit my nipple I couldn’t control it, it was like a bright flash of heat took over… ohmygod I’m doing it again. I’m so sorry.”

  Her pretty face flushed and she face planted on my chest.

  “Look at me, Rea,” I urged.

  “Uh-uh, no way. I want the earth to open and swallow me whole. I cannot believe I just said all that to you. It’s totally embarrassing, like I’m imparting some sort of wisdom on you.”

  “News flash, I have a dick.” I laughed.

  “What does having a dick have to do with my verbal vomit?” she groaned.

  “Well, seeing as I have a dick, I’ve never experienced the female orgasm.”

  “So, it’s not like you haven’t given them before.” Her words were still muffled, and I could feel her lips against my bare chest as she spoke, causing my spent cock to start to stir again.

  “Giving them and hearing what happened to your body are two entirely different things. As much as I enjoy your mouth so close to my skin, I need you to look at me please.” I waited for her to look at me, then I continued. “Never be embarrassed to talk to me about anything. Especially what we do together. I want to know what feels good to you, and how it makes you feel. I love that you felt good and are excited and happy, so excited you wanted to tell me about it. Never hide who you are, it is stunning and the most precious gift you can give.”

  The look on Reagan’s face said it all – I had lost my ever-loving mind.

  “Okay.”

  “Change of plans. Shower before coffee. I’m a little messy and need a clean pair of boxers.”

  Reagan’s eyes widened, and she looked down, then back up, meeting my eyes. “Is that all me? Holy crap, Nolan, I’m sorry.”

  I bite back a laugh, but barely. “No, baby, that is me. You were so fucking sexy when you were fucking my fingers and coming on my hand I didn’t even try and stop it and joined you.”

  I was not only shocked I’d admitted that to her, but that I came in my pants in the first place.

  “You… you
know… but I didn’t touch you back. How is that possible?” she stammered.

  “I’m wondering the same thing,” I mumbled. “Join me in the shower?”

  She nodded and followed me to the bathroom. Much to my surprise she didn’t try and cover herself, and when we stopped, so I could turn on the water she allowed her eyes to roam freely, only smiling at me when I caught her licking her lips again.

  I was in hell – the fiery pits of the underworld – a place where I had to keep my wayward cock from finding the slick heat it desired. This was going to be the longest shower of my life.

  Chapter Eight

  I should’ve been self-conscious that my shirt was on the floor next to the door, where a man that I’d only known for under forty-eight-hours had taken it off and tossed it aside. Then, I essentially had sex with his hand while standing against his bedroom door after I’d busted in his room uninvited and was thrown on the floor while he was in the grips of a nightmare. I should’ve been horrified at my actions. I was behaving like a trollop, but I couldn’t muster up the mortification. I was giddy with excitement.

  There we were, standing in his bathroom waiting for the water to heat up, me half naked with only my panties on, and Clark was naked as a jaybird. Of course, he had nothing to be worried about; he was hot – all muscle and male goodness. His scars added to his badass appeal. Jesus holy moly, I’d never wished I had a photographic memory more than at this moment; not when I was cramming for finals, not in the middle of a presentation in front of advertising execs, never. But right now, I wished I had one; I wanted to memorize this moment so I’d never forget the way he looked.

  “Reagan?”

  Shit, was he talking to me?

  “Sorry, what?”

  “You ready?” he chuckled.

  “Yeah.”

  I started to step toward the shower enclosure when he shook his head. “Take your panties off before you get in.”

  Crap. He must think I’m a complete dumbass. First, I blathered on about having an orgasm – which was out-of-this-world-fantastic - now I’m getting in the shower with my undies on. Geez.

  He held his hand out and pulled me into the stall in front of him, taking the brunt of the spray on his back.

  “Is it too hot?” he asked.

  “No. The hotter, the better.”

  “Is that so?” I could hear the humor in his voice. “Good to know.”

  Thankfully he was behind me and missed the heat that had hit my cheeks, which was stupid considering I was standing in the shower with the man.

  By the time we exited the shower, I was a puddle of goo. My muscles were loose and relaxed after Clark had massaged every inch of my body while he soaped me up. When I protested, he shushed me and told me he enjoyed touching me. When I asked if I could return the favor he’d refused and explained that if I put my hands on him, we’d spend the rest of the morning in his bed. Which did not sound like a problem to me, so I pushed, and he still said no. It was hard to believe that someone as inexperienced and ordinary as myself could test his control. I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t seen (and felt) his hard-on throughout our shower. And what a spectacular hard-on it was.

  Now, I know I may not have had a lot of firsthand knowledge of dicks, but I do have the internet and have watched some videos trying (unsuccessfully) to masturbate. It was safe to say I knew a big dick when I saw one. I wouldn’t call it a scary monster cock but holy hell it was close. I wanted to ask him if he got light-headed when blood rushed to the muscle to harden. I mean, it could happen, right? I totally would’ve asked if I could’ve formed a coherent thought, but I couldn’t. His hands were on me drying me off with a fluffy white towel that was unusually warm and soft.

  “You have soft towels, and it’s warm like it just came out of the dryer.”

  Dammit, I wished I had some duct tape to put over my mouth so I stopped saying the lamest shit.

  “Towel warmer.” He stopped rubbing the material down my leg and motioned toward the metal rack on the wall. “When I’m out on a mission there’s no comfort, everything we carry with us is out of necessity. When I’m at home, I want comfort and a small amount of luxury, even if it’s a towel.”

  “Makes sense. Do you go out on missions often?” He didn’t answer, and I worried I’d unknowingly put my foot in my mouth – I did that a lot. “Never mind. That was rude of me to ask.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You can ask me anything you want, but you have to understand there are things about my job I cannot answer. It’s not because I don’t want to, it’s literally because I cannot. To answer your question, there is no easy answer for that. There are times when we’ve been gone months on end. One mission ends and something new heats up, and before we make it stateside, we are rerouted somewhere else. However, as of late, knock on wood, things have been quiet, and we’ve been home more than gone. But don’t repeat that to the guys. If they knew I said that out loud and we get sent away they’ll kick my ass.” Clark stood and smiled down at me. Damn, he was tall.

  “Why would they blame you?”

  “We’re all a little superstitious.”

  “Like don’t walk under a ladder and all that?” I asked.

  Clark led us out of the bathroom and went to his drawer, pulling out one of his tees and yanking it over my head. Alrighty then, I guess I’m wearing a t-shirt dress this morning. I fought the urge to smell his shirt, but only because Clark might find it creepy.

  “Not that bad. But we all have things we do and don’t do before we leave on a trip. There are things we bring with us for good luck and protection. Then there are things you don’t ever say – like it’s been slow or I’m bored. That is just asking for shit to hit the fan, and we get called up on an op.”

  “You never told me what a Combat Applications Group was.”

  “Umm, right. I was distracted.” Clark nuzzled into my neck. “You smell so good.”

  “Message received loud and clear. I’ll stop asking.” Besides, Clark kissing the side of my neck was way better than talking about Army stuff that I would never need to know or understand.

  “Combat Applications Group is a special mission unit, also known as SFOD, Special Forces Operational Detachment, or Delta team.”

  “Mmm, sounds pretty badass. God, it feels good when you kiss behind my ear. My arms break out in goosebumps when you touch me there.” I wish he’d forget about coffee and conversation and take us right to bed, but unfortunately, he’d already pulled on a pair of sweatpants. “It really is a shame.”

  “What is?” he asked, straightening and pulling us toward the door. He seemed to do that a lot. When Clark wanted me to follow him, he simply grabbed my hand and moved me where he wanted me; he didn’t ask me to follow or ask if I was ready, he just tugged on my hand, and I went.

  “You covering up your impressive dick.”

  When he tossed his head back and roared with laughter, it made all the embarrassment I felt worth it. Just like in his Jeep in front of Jasper’s house, when Clark laughed, something I didn’t think he did very often, my insides warmed.

  “Damn woman, you don’t hold back, do you? You call it as you see it.” He laughed.

  “Sorry.” I tried to pull my hand from his grip, my awkwardness around him off the charts. Why couldn’t I keep my freaking mouth shut?

  “Don’t be. It is a whole new experience for me. Most women like to play guessing games. It’s like walking through a minefield. One thing I hate is guessing. I love that you say what is on your mind, especially when it’s my cock that you’re thinking about.” The accompanying wink made me want to jump him and shove him on the couch. “Relax, and I’ll make the coffee. How do you take yours?”

  I sat on the couch and answered, “Black, please.”

  “Huh,” Clark said and looked down at me smiling.

  “What’s huh mean?”

  “You’re full of surprises. I figured you for a cream and sugar kinda girl.”

  “I used to be. But through college,
there were plenty of times I needed the caffeine. I learned to drink what was available. So, I guess I’m not all that picky. If it’s strong enough to grow hair on your chest or make you feel like you have enough energy to run a marathon, it’s perfect.”

  “Good to know.” Clark walked into his kitchen and pulled out two K-cups from the cabinet and set up the instant one cup coffee maker with water. Once the machine was gurgling and spitting water, he turned to me. “You don’t know much about the Army, do you?” he asked.

  “No, not really. I don’t know anyone in the military except Jasper, and he never talked about the Army to me when he came back to visit. I don’t even really know what he does, other than maybe test equipment, or something like that. I assume you do the same since you work with him. Does that bother you?”

  “No. I like that you don’t know anything. Most of the women around here are well versed in the Army lifestyle. They are trying their hardest to hook up with a military man. I know that sounds bad, but the majority of women I come in contact with are Barrack Bunnies.”

  “Ummm, I don’t know what a Barrack Bunny is.”

  I didn’t need to know the actual meaning to know I was happy I wasn’t placed in that category. It sounded an awful like a derogatory name.

  “A woman who lurks around the base waiting for any Army guy to pay attention to them. They don’t care who, what rank, or rate, they just want to hook up. Then, of course, you have the guys who are down with contractual marriages and don’t mind that their fake wife has been passed around more times than the gravy boat at Thanksgiving dinner.”

  Clark handed me a cup of coffee and sat on the couch next to me. “Seriously? That sounds… unsanitary.”

  “It can be. I won’t lie to you, Rea, I’ve been with my fair share of Barrack Bunnies. I admit it makes me a dick, but they’re easy. There have been times in the past when we’ve come home from an op, and all I wanted was a warm body to sink into and not have to think for a few hours. A woman who didn’t require work, or a whole lot of talking, was what I needed. All she was after was how many chevrons I had on my uniform and what she could brag to her girls about. I didn’t have to feel bad when the exchange was over because that’s all it was - an exchange.”