Holding a Hero

by Layne, Lyssa

“I just can’t believe you’d walk out on Aunt Deb’s Jambalaya. That shit just ain’t right. Do you have any idea how long she’s been working on that? And you know she’s expecting you to stay for dinner. Probably made it just for you after all the gushing you did over her chicken fajitas today.”

  Derek’s face froze up in a blank stare.

  “I’m totally fucking with you. All she does for Jambalaya is fry up every meat she has left over from the week, throw in some rice and add Cajun seasoning. It’s her cheat meal. But seriously, you’re obviously welcome to stay.” I tugged at his white t-shirt as I went by and didn’t let go on my way up to the porch, just so he knew I wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Once up at the door, I glanced down at my mud caked boots and then back at Derek. I hadn’t exactly been dressed for gardening when we’d started. Not that I’d been dressed to get married either. It was somewhere in between really. Jeans had seemed reasonable, provided I paired them with something fancy on top. Which I had. I’d parted ways with that flowy piece of crap while still in my truck on the drive back home though. After that I was left with a simple black tank I’d worn underneath and it had lent itself well to masking any sweat or dirt stains my gardening activities had probably accumulated.

  Of course, I hadn’t felt remotely underdressed when I’d seen that Derek had worn what could only be described as the guy version of my outfit. Jeans. Dress shirt. Voila. Ready for marriage. I grinned at the thought. Then, my ridiculous thoughts turned a little less silly as I took a closer look at him now down to his white undershirt and jeans.

  Well, it had been white when we started. Now it had a whole black and brown tie dye thing happening from the various degrees of dirt layers crusted on it. His jeans hadn’t fared much better. Worse actually. One of his knees had a rip in it now and his ass was covered in really unappealing smudges from all the times he’d wiped his hands without thinking about it. I instantly though of my own ass at the sight. It probably had a set of handprints to match.

  Regardless of the mud, sweat and holes in his pants, I was once again feeling an overwhelming urge to put my mouth on him. Nowhere specifically. Just, on him.

  Between his flawless tan, a variety of tattoos peeking out at me from the edges of his clothes and the solid six pack that teased me anytime his fitted shirt clung in just the right place, it wasn’t all that surprising my comatose sex drive had woken up with a vengeance.

  Then, because I wasn’t embarrassed enough on my own behalf, I looked up to find Derek staring at me, staring at him. For a lack of actual words, I cleared my throat. Several times.

  “You inhale a fly?”

  “Sure. Yeah, I inhaled a fly.” I was about to inhale his fucking tongue if he wasn’t careful. “We should probably get cleaned up a bit before we bring all this shit inside. I’m not a huge fan of vacuuming or mopping…hope those weren’t on your list of wifely duties by the way.”

  “They were actually. Right below hot meals and blowjobs.”

  This time I inhaled my own spit and I choked on it for two minutes flat. At least by then there was no telling if the deep red tone in my skin was due to humiliation or near suffocation.

  He patted me on the back several times, but the delighted glint in his eyes told me he was far less concerned about my well-being than he was satisfied with himself over having played me at my own game. Jackass. That only made me want to put more of my parts on him.

  I coughed one last time and took a breath. “That was a good one. Really. I’m impressed.” Meanwhile, I reached down for the hose and turned it on, rinsing my boots as I spoke. “Well, if you like a wife who cleans, I guess I better get on top of that.” I raised the hose and hit him square in the chest with the water. He was so caught off guard, he raised his hands to try and block it, only making matters more interesting by causing the water to spray in every direction, including mine.

  “That is it, Joss! Now you’re gonna get it!”

  Derek lunged for me and I took off running. With a fucking squeal, no less. Who was this person he was turning me into? This blushing, horny teenager I thought I’d abandoned for good when Cara died and left me with the task of being a mother. And a father. And a motherfucking warrior.

  Blushing, sex and immature giggling had been moved out for dark rings, sleepless nights and soothing lullabies. I liked myself better that way. Because I’d made myself like that part of me. It was my strength. My loyalty. My ability to keep a promise. Realizing that each one of those could fall by the wayside so quickly all because of a charming guy who came with his own set of tools and looked good in a tight t-shirt and jeans, scared the crap out of me. It also made me feel alive. Unhinged alive. Whatever he was unleashing within me, I wasn’t ready to cage up again just yet.

  I was headed straight for the back of the fence line where I knew the water hose wouldn’t be able to reach me, but all the new veggie growing tubs I had back there now had turned my yard into a serious obstacle course. I’d only made it halfway, when I felt Derek’s strong arm reach around my waist from behind and actually lift me off the ground mid-step.

  “Ah! What are you doing? Put me down!” I was screaming and laughing hysterically at the same time.

  “With pleasure.” The words rumbled briefly in my ear before I felt myself get flipped to the ground where I landed gently on my back. Shortly after, I was getting hosed down from head to toe with no way of escaping.

  Unable to make the wave of water rushing at me stop, I did the only thing I could and grabbed the excess hose on the ground, jerking it to me and tripping Derek in the process. Not expecting it, he tumbled down like a Jenga stack sitting on one block.

  Next thing I knew, we were both covered in mud and rolling around on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

  “That was fucked up.” He was still catching his breath.

  “You started it.” I took a handful of black soggy dirt and rubbed it all over his soaked shirt.

  Derek’s eyes went wide. “I did no such thing, you lunatic. It was all you.”

  “Oh,” I chuckled, “Yeah, guess it was. My bad.” My hand was still playing in the mud, contemplating scooping up some more and smothering him with it just so I wouldn’t have to feel tempted by that damn smirk of his anymore. On the verge of making my decision, I felt his fingers grip mine.

  Rolling onto his side and leaning over me slightly, he warned, “Unless you’re planning on using that as some sort of an impromptu beauty treatment, I suggest you release the mud and lift your other hand into the air where I can see it.”

  “Someone seems to be confused about the hierarchy around here. You’re not the boss of me, Derek Tice. I don’t have to listen to you.” And just to prove it, I used my free hand to pelt him in the side of his head with a hefty serving of sludge.

  “Unbelievable.” He was shaking his head, wiping off the muck still dripping off of his face. Then, still too pleased with myself to anticipate his retaliation, I was shocked by the feel of the wet grainy texture as he gleefully rubbed it into my cheeks and forehead. “I’ve heard this is really great for your skin. And we want you to look your best in our wedding pictures.”

  I was about to scream a slew of obscenities at him, when I heard the back door open and the sound of Aunt Deb’s wooden clogs as she stepped out onto the deck.

  “What the hell are you two doing out here? Mud wrestling?”

  I turned back to see her standing at the edge of the porch, both hands on her hips and scowling at us like we were piles of something Hattie might have left behind. “Get your asses up off the ground and inside. Don’t think for a second you’re coming through here though. Go around the front. I’ll open the door to the mudroom.”

  Made sense, what with us being covered in mud and all.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been scolded by her. I could already hear her coming at me for another round later to bitch about my being the reason she was getting the deep set of lines between her eye br
ows, like her own set of kids and crazy ex-husband had played no role in those whatsoever.

  Derek made it to his feet first and reached down to help me up. I was several inches off the ground when he dropped me back on my ass.

  “Hey!”

  He laughed. “Sorry. Seriously, for real this time.” He held out his hand again. I squinted at him skeptically and opted to bypass the offer instead of taking my chances.

  “I’m starting to think I can’t trust you, Derek. Tell me. What sort of a marriage are we supposed to have if we don’t have trust?” I stomped ahead dramatically, but with his long legs he caught up to me in two seconds flat.

  “The fake kind. It’s sort of built on dishonesty, you know?” He was grinning at me from ear to ear, completely unfazed by the fact that he was coated in crap that would probably take multiple showers just to clean off.

  “That is it!” Using both of my hands, I shoved him hard in the chest, causing him to stumble back against the side of the house. Then, before he could object or I could lose my nerve, I kissed him. It was intense and scary and I could feel my lower lip begin to quiver. That’s how fucking long it’d been since I had kissed someone.

  But it was also hot and sexy and empowering as hell to make the first move. A bold fucking move. A move, which incidentally, was totally and completely out of character.

  “What the hell was that?” Derek whispered against my lips as I broke away.

  “Fun.” I turned my lashes up at him to meet his gaze.

  “Then why did you stop?” he growled into my mouth just as his lips crushed back into mine. Our second kiss in a matter of seconds and I had no time to be scared anymore. His hands quickly moved around my back, pulling me tightly to him, while my own laced up around his neck and the back of his head, where I let my fingers slide into his hair like it was on instinct. Like they naturally knew how to move along his body and where to anchor themselves as the intensity between us grew. And it grew rapidly. If it hadn’t been for the sound of the mudroom door being swung open so hard it hit the house siding, I would have found myself in an uncomfortably compromising position before long. As it was, it would have taken some serious explaining had Aunt Deb popped her head around the corner to see what was taking us so long to walk up from the backyard.

  “I guess we better go get cleaned up.” My voice was shaky and barely audible, but then my mouth was unusually close to his ear, so he was able to make out the words without a problem.

  “Uh-huh.” A satisfactory feeling settled into my chest when I noticed his tone was just as unstable as mine.

  Slowly, I slid from his embrace, awkwardly separating myself from him and it struck me how much smoother I had transitioned to being near him than being away.

  I cleared my throat and began walking toward the front of the house again, feeling strangely naked now without the warmth his arms around me. “Well, I certainly hope you learned your lesson, mister.”

  He laughed. “I’m sorry. That was you teaching me something?”

  “Obviously. What, you think I just do that sort of thing willy nilly?”

  “I would certainly hope not.” Holy shit. He was doing it again. That goddamn sexy grin. The man had learned nothing!

  “Okay, seriously, you need to stop.”

  Perplexed, his brows shot up and the smile disappeared. “Stop what?”

  “Oh good. That’s better. Stick with that expression from now on,” I ordered as I stepped inside and made a beeline for the sink.

  “You realize you’re not making any sense, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Alright. Well, as long as you know.” A sly grin began to creep back.

  My pointer finger surged out of the water and into his face, “What did I just say?!”

  “And, the crazy continues.” His face turned stern. It was abundantly clear that he was purely mocking me, but I was okay with that. At least this way I’d only want to slap him, not rip every last shred of clothing from his body.

  Holy shit. Talk about mixed signals. Not that he was complaining, but definitely observing. Apparently I was welcome to keep my beat to the rhythm of a mental patient’s drum if I wanted. Although, the way I turned up the heat in an instant and then turned it down to freezing two seconds later, I would likely cause the onset of a serious case of blue balls if I didn’t make up my mind soon.

  I was trying my damnedest to keep my focus on washing the dirt off my hands, but that was next to impossible when Derek’s were right there, under the running water alongside mine. Feeling his touch, having his fingers moving over my skin, even for just a moment, only made me want more. For the first time in my life, I understood the demons of an addict. Derek was my crystal meth. One fucking taste would never be enough. My body wanted more. Even my brain was telling me so.

  “I don’t think this is getting me anywhere. Unless I actually climb into this sink, I’m not going to be much cleaner than I am right now,” he muttered, the soft growl of his voice only stimulating my sex deprived senses more.

  I reached over and turned the water off. “I agree. What are the odds we still have clean feet?”

  Our eyes traveled to the floor simultaneously. Both our shoes were caked in mud, but chances were good the dirt hadn’t made it beyond that. So, I proceeded to carefully take off my boots and Derek followed suit.

  Then, I led the way to the bathroom on my tip toes.

  “You can shower first. Soap and shampoo are in there. Towels are under the sink. Not sure what you can wear after, but Bobby’s probably got some stuff lying around here somewhere.” I reached for the handle, determined to leave again, but he got to it first.

  “What are you doing?” I was slightly panicked and certain my mouth would start quivering again at any given moment. I resorted to a disapproving pout just to give my lips something productive to do.

  His arm still stretched out above me holding the door, he leaned in even closer. “Not sure yet, but keep doing that and I might have to teach you a lesson.”

  I didn’t give him a chance to make good on his promise. My hand had gripped a handful of his shirt and yanked him to me. His lips crashed down on mine before he even finished talking. He pressed the weight of his body into me and I automatically pushed back, the same excited need pulsating between us.

  My hands seemed to take on a life of their own as they roamed his body, starting at his broad muscular shoulders and working their way down until they settled just above the waistline of his pants where they continued to fidget, unable to determine if it was safe to continue on from that point.

  In no time at all, Derek had lifted me off of the ground and onto the counter beside the sink. I’d barely hit the surface when I peeled off my shirt and then wasted but a second in relieving him of his. I reached up around his neck and brought him to me until we were skin on skin. My legs wrapped around him tightly, securing him to me.

  His kisses deepened and I could feel the tips of his fingers pressing gently into the skin on my back, moving down until he had both hands firmly on my ass. Neither of us said a thing. There was no question of where this was headed.

  Within moments, zippers had come undone and what had remained of our clothing was left behind scattered on the floor.

  “At the risk of bringing this whole thing to a screeching halt, I wasn’t exactly prepared to wind up here today,” he breathed into my ear.

  Holy shit. I wasn’t prepared to end up here ANY day. If by some fucking miracle there was a lonely condom to be found somewhere within my house, it was in all likelihood way past its expiration date.

  I let out a frustrated whine against his bare chest, which didn’t help matters any.

  “Who waits until this moment to mention they’re not prepared?” I hissed.

  “It’s not like I’m the only one who forgot.” In spite of our current predicament, neither of us had stopped our roaming hands and mouths.

  “I’ve never really had to worry about this. I don’t usually have r
andom hook ups. And the last time I had sex, my boyfriend and I had both been tested.” The last bit came out as more of a moan than actual words. Derek was slowly but surely driving me to the brink of insanity by his touch alone.

  “Well, yeah, military always checked me too, but what about the other thing?” he asked, like it was the other thing he was most concerned about now, given our clean bill of health.

  “What other thing? Oh, the baby thing. That’s not an issue.”

  He paused to clarify, “So, we’re good?”

  I didn’t even answer. I couldn’t. All the words in my vocabulary had evacuated my brain and all I could think about was him inside of me. My head shook up and down in a desperate nod while I rushed forward and started kissing him again. After four years of not getting laid, I was so done with fucking talking.

  ***

  All of my senses were on the verge of going completely haywire. Breathing her in, tasting her. Watching the soft expressions of pleasure on her face. Joss was captivating, taking me prisoner one sexy smirk and ridiculing glare at a time. Even covered in mud with clumps of grass still stuck in her long brown hair, she had me turned on long before she had me pinned to the side of her house.

  “Oh my God,” she exhaled loudly, eyes closed and resting her head on the mirror behind her while her long legs remained curled around the back of my thighs. “You should come over to garden more often.”

  “I’m moving in, remember? And I’ll be happy to garden with you anytime you like.”

  She giggled. “Yeah, I bet.”

  Which reminded me. “Oh, and for the record, having sex with your fiancé can hardly be considered a random hook up,” I scolded playfully.

  “Seriously? You do know the whole marriage thing is in no way related to our actual relationship. Right? I mean, we don’t even have a relationship.” Joss still had the expression of someone who had a really good buzz going, but her tone had taken a more sober turn.

  “We don’t have a relationship.” I was really just repeating her. No question. No argument. It was the only way I knew how to avoid either.