Craving Her Soldier's Touch

by Wendy S. Marcus

  “Only you.” He sucked her finger deep into his mouth. Her body responded with an instantaneous surge of arousal while her mind, focusing on his ‘only you’, responded with an intense yearning for intimacy between them.

  “You were in my head for months,” he said, easing her head closer to his. “Brightening dreary days, filling the silence, urging extra caution so I could return to you, hold you and make love to you.” With both hands on either side of her face he guided her the short distance to his lips and kissed her. “After the blast I got so caught up in grief and pain I lost you. It seems I’m no good on my own anymore. I need you, Jaci.” He kissed her again, his ardor growing, his tongue thrusting into her, mimicking the movement of his hips.

  Jaci’s body came alive for the first time in over a year, reawakened by his touch. And she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

  She shifted her lower body to straddle him, accidentally kicking his left thigh. He stiffened and sucked in a breath. How could she have forgotten? She pushed off his chest and sat up, keeping most of her weight on her knees. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Your leg.” She started to climb off of him.

  He clasped his large hands around her waist to stop her. “My leg is fine. Trust me, the ache that has my full attention is higher and more centrally located.”

  “You mean here?” she asked innocently and reached back to caress him through his jeans, up along his zipper, down between his legs to his butt.

  Ian let out a shaky breath. “Before we get started, I think I’d better apologize in advance for any...uh, misfire.”

  Restrained laughter tickled the inside of her belly at his unease with the topic. If what he’d said was true, and she had no reason to believe it wasn’t, he hadn’t been with a woman in over a year. Of course he’d be on the edge. “Bit of a hair trigger?” she teased, continuing to rub him.

  “Yeah,” he said, in deep concentration. “As much as I despise the thought of the word ‘premature’ being in any way associated with what we are about to do, before my injury I’d spent at minimum one thousand hours envisioning how we’d celebrate my return home. And right this minute you have me so revved up ‘premature’ is more a probability than a possibility.”

  She took pity on him and stopped, intending to slow things down. And have some fun. “In all those ‘welcome home’ scenarios you’ve conjured up in that handsome head of yours have any involved role play?”

  Interest sparked in his eyes and an I’m-up-for-anything grin formed on his mouth.

  Okay then, time to set a little emotional distance. Physical was the name of the game. To stay within the rules of play there would be no feelings involved unless they were directly linked to the pursuit of pleasure. “I am a superior officer,” Jaci said. “You will follow my every order and you will address me as ma’am.” In the sexy military style she’d heard him use on occasion.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He lifted his hips, rocked his erection against her yes-right-there-do-not-stop spot and Jaci realized staying in control of the situation may be a little harder than she’d originally thought. His smile told her he knew exactly what’d just crossed her mind. “To the best of my ability, ma’am.”

  “Very well,” she said, imitating an army officer. “You will remain in control of your...orgasms, Staff Sergeant.”

  Humor crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes and a playful smile lightened his expression to the fun, carefree face she remembered from before his most recent trip to Iraq. “Thank you for stating orgasms in the plural, ma’am.”

  Jaci struggled not to grin so she could issue her next order. “Disrobe from the waist up, soldier.” She couldn’t wait to see the contours of his broad, muscled chest and big, strong arms.

  “I mean no disrespect, ma’am,” he answered. “But I will if you will.”

  Ah what the heck. “Deal.”

  Since Jaci was sitting up it took all of five seconds for her to yank off her sweater and pull the matching tank over her head. Ian reached up. “Front clasp.” He remembered. With a skilled pinch her bra hung open.

  “I don’t want to know how you got so good at that.”

  He removed his windbreaker. “I used to steal my sisters’ bras from the laundry to practice on them.”

  Whether true or not, “Good answer.” She removed her bra, enjoying all the jostling down below as he worked to remove his

  T-shirt while lying down.

  When he noticed her bare breasts illuminated in the light from the kitchen he stilled. Staring up at them he licked his lips, and

  Jaci’s nipples went hard. “Beautiful,” he said with the perfect amount of reverence in his tone as he reached up to cup them...

  Just as the door to the condo opened and Justin walked in. At the sight of her he said, “Holy, hell,” and slapped his hand over his eyes. “Hi, Jaci.” He closed the door.

  She flattened herself on Ian’s naked chest and he wrapped his arms around her to provide additional cover. “Hi, Justin.”

  She heard him walk down the hallway toward his bedroom. “It’s about time, Ian,” he said.

  “Shut up, Justin,” Ian responded.

  “You know you have your own bedroom,” Justin said. Adding, “Maybe it’s time you started using it,” before a door closed.

  Jaci looked down the hallway to confirm it was in fact Justin’s bedroom door that’d closed and with him behind it, before she started to rise.

  Ian stopped her. “Promise me when you stand up you are going to accompany me

  to my bedroom.” Desperation had returned to his voice. “Promise me you are not going to reconsider or change your mind and leave.”

  “I have no shirt on,” Jaci joked. “I’m not leaving so fast.”

  “Please.” He held her tight. Somber.

  No way could she leave him when he sounded like he’d die without her, nor did she want to. “The only place I’m going,” she slid up the distance needed to kiss his lips, “is to your bed.” She shimmied off of him. “Where I hope you will not keep me waiting.” She looked at her watch. “I’m having dinner delivered. We have thirty-seven minutes.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHILE Jaci pranced down the hall topless with her clothes clutched to her chest and her blonde curls bouncing, Ian eased his stiff leg to the floor. Thirty-seven minutes. Hell, thirty-seven seconds inside her warm, lush body would likely be enough to finish him off. He stood, waiting for the pins and needles in his leg to subside. He would draw out their time together if he had to channel a lifetime’s worth of self-control to do it, because in every single one of his welcome home fantasies, as in real life, her pleasure was as important as his.

  He took a tentative step. Dammit. I am going to have sex. With Jaci. I have been waiting for this moment for over a year. I will not think about the pain in my damn leg. I will not think about the pain in my damn leg.

  “I’m waiting,” Jaci called out in flirty invitation. “And I’m naked.”

  “Do I really have to know that?” Justin yelled through his door.

  “Sorry,” Jaci said. “I ordered us dinner. It’s coming by eight.”

  If Ian didn’t get a move on, dinner would be the only thing coming by eight. Unacceptable. He tried to flex his knee. Couldn’t. His muscles had gone into spasm, just like the doctor had warned they might if he overdid it.

  “Thanks, Jaci,” Justin said.

  “Would you two knock off the small talk?” Ian snapped, louder than he’d intended, but he didn’t want Jaci getting distracted. By sheer force of will he powered through pain that would typically have sent him back to the couch, until he reached his bedroom. Where he stopped short at the sight of Jaci, the unparalleled Goddess of Lovely, stretched out in full sex kitten on top of his navy blue sheets, in the center of his queen-sized bed. And she was indeed naked. And beautiful, with her creamy white complexion forming a strapless bikini pattern in stark contrast to the enticingly tanned, smooth skin of the rest of her body. Her pink nipples hardened
into mini top hats on her rounded breasts, each screaming for attention. His mouth watered.

  “Breathe, Staff Sergeant.” Jaci smiled her satisfaction at his stupor as she wrapped a curl around her finger. “Then close the door, take off your pants, and come hither.”

  Close door: Check.

  Remove pants: Only in the dark. Unfortunate. He gave one last slow, head-to-toe perusal of her stunning body, committing every spectacular inch to memory, hit the light switch and shucked off his jeans and briefs. Check.

  Come hither: On his way.

  “Hey,” Jaci complained. “I want to see you.”

  Not gonna happen. He could barely stomach how his now deformed leg looked. No way he’d subject Jaci to it. Definite arousal buster.

  “Turn the light back on, soldier,” she commanded.

  “No.” He reached into his nightstand for a couple of condoms.

  “That is gross insubordination,” Jaci said. “I’m in charge.”

  “I’m going rogue.” He half-crawled, half-dragged onto the bed, found her, and covered her soft, heavenly, naked body with his, reveled in the cushion of her breasts and how it felt to be cradled between her thighs. “You feel so good.” He kissed her lips, her cheek and neck. Too good. The fierce urge to have her, to thrust into her, over and over, now, with no barrier between them almost got the better of him.

  She slid her hands up his back and neck to comb through the hair on the top of his head. “Would you at least still call me ma’am?”

  That he could do. “Permission to go down on you, ma’am?”

  “Rogue works for me.” He heard the smile in her voice. “Permission happily granted, Staff Sergeant.” She pulled down his head so she could whisper in his ear. “If you’d like to do a little sightseeing on your journey down under,” she forced out a hot breath and tongued his ear, “I wouldn’t be adverse to a detour or two.”

  Yeah. He knew what she wanted and didn’t waste a minute getting to it. Trouble was he enjoyed sucking on her breasts as much as she enjoyed having him do it. The feel of her taut, roughened nipple on his tongue had his erection so sensitive even impersonal contact with the mattress served to stimulate him. Her moans, gasps and twitches as he alternated between them, swirling, flicking, squeezing and drawing her into his mouth fast and hard had him moving on before he embarrassed himself.

  He left a saliva trail down the center of her ribs, around her bellybutton, meandering south until his chin grazed her curls. When the scent of her arousal flowed into his nostrils and the finger he’d sent to explore the lips guarding her treasure found her wet and ready for him, things turned urgent. Ian fumbled to locate the condoms he’d left on the bed, ripped open a wrapper, and rolled one on.

  The race to the finish was on. Unfortunately he’d taken the lead and needed Jaci to catch up quick. So he settled between her legs, opened her with his thumbs, and set to work.

  “My, God, Ian.” She clamped her thighs on his head and squirmed her hips. “That is so good. But I need—” He eased his tongue into her opening. “Yes.” She spread her legs wide. “More.” He pushed two fingers deep inside of her, met hot, slippery friction, and almost lost it.

  Not yet.

  He focused on her, not the intense almost painful pressure in his groin. He used his tongue, his lips and fingers to pleasure her. Faster. Harder. Deeper.

  “Now,” she cried out. “I need you inside of me. Right. Now.”

  At her command he moved into position, poised at the entrance to paradise, close to detonating.

  “I’m ready. So ready.” She crossed her legs over his butt and urged him in.

  Ian let loose the most powerful thrust of his life, buried himself to the hilt and stopped. His breath came like he’d just done a five mile run in full gear. His body tensed. One more like that and it’d be over.

  “What are you waiting for?” Jaci asked.

  Restraint. The ability to make the divine sensation of being embedded in the clasp of her sex last for all eternity.

  But Jaci being Jaci she angled her hips, rocked beneath him and took what she needed.

  Ian maintained a tenuous hold on his self-control by a single strand of a spider web as she rode his length. Until he had to give in to his release or implode. Decision made, Ian indulged his greatest desire and drove into her, repeatedly, barely holding out for her scream of completion, before he let go in the longest, most satisfying orgasm ever.

  A tingly, joy-tinged, numbness seeped out from the depths of his core to his periphery, making him limp with rapture. Ian melted over top of Jaci.

  Gratified and satisfied.

  At peace.

  Finally.

  * * *

  Jaci didn’t mind the weight of a sated Ian making deep inhalation virtually impossible. Breathing was overrated, especially when even the slightest movement might interfere with her ability to savor precious moments of undisturbed bliss.

  “I’ll move in a minute. Promise,” Ian mumbled into her shoulder.

  “No rush.” She glanced at his alarm clock. They had fourteen more minutes before dinner would be delivered. Who knew if she’d ever share this closeness with him again?

  “I’m crushing you.”

  “In the best possible way.” Still intimately connected, their bodies slick with the sweat of passion, and warmed in the aftermath of stellar sex. “Welcome home,” she whispered.

  “Welcome home sex was even better than I’d imagined.” He rolled to his side, bringing Jaci with him. “Makes me kind of disappointed I won’t be heading back overseas.”

  “What?” He’d once told her serving in the military was all he’d ever wanted to do.

  “Honorable discharge. I’m done.”

  “Because of your leg?” She slid her foot up his left calf, intending to wrap her thigh over her hip, and came in contact with irregular patches of bulging, puckered, indented skin.

  Ian went rigid, didn’t move or even breathe.

  “I’m sorry.” Jaci started to pull away. Ian let her. On top of his pain and disability, not being able to perform the work he loved had to be devastating. “You’re a highly trained, decorated soldier with ten years of experience. Surely there has to be work available training new recruits or in administration.”

  He let a tense silence drag on between them, their closeness of a few minutes ago over.

  “If I can’t do the job I was originally hired for,” he said the words quietly and succinctly, “I have no desire to remain on active duty.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’ll do next?”

  Ian didn’t respond.

  A sudden chill made her shiver. Jaci pulled the sheet up to her chin. This Ian was so different. Although she’d seen flashes of the warm, jocular man he’d been; when they were alone, his overall disposition vacillated between lustful desperation and brooding irritability. That combined with the nightmares she’d witnessed were a pretty good indication he suffered from some degree of P.T.S.D. Was he under a psychologist’s care? Taking medication as prescribed? Now didn’t feel like a good time to broach the topic.

  Lying on her back, in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, a foot of distance that may as well have been a thousand miles separated them.

  Jaci used the imposed isolation to think, to figure a way to help him. His decreased body image—as evidenced by his unwillingness to remove his pants with the light on and his reaction when she’d touched his bare leg—could be worked on over time. What worried her most was him being idle, sitting holed up in the condo, day after day, night after night alone with his thoughts and, what she anticipated were, horrible memories. Old Ian was always in motion—except when they’d cuddled on her couch. She missed that.

  Focus. Ian needed to be kept busy, to have a reason to get up and out every morning, to be a productive member of society. He needed a job that could accommodate his physical limitations. Hey wait a minute. Brilliant! “You know,” Jaci said. “If you’ve got nothing else lined up, maybe you
’d want to work at the crisis center. We’re looking for a head of security and facility maintenance.” A perfect solution for both of them.

  “Ah, yes.” Ian turned onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. “Just what I’ve always aspired to be, a glorified security guard slash janitor. Will I get a badge and some official looking uniform? Maybe my very own plunger?”

  Jaci could do without his sarcasm.

  “Thanks,” he went on, sounding anything but thankful. “I guess someone like you probably sees that as a great opportunity for someone like me.”

  Someone like him? What the heck was that supposed to mean?

  “But I don’t need your charity. I can find my own job, a good job, something respectable that pays an enviable wage. I have skills, you know. I can do more than shoot people and fix things.”

  “Whoa.” Jaci sat up. “Where’d that come from? Who said anything about you shooting anyone? And I wasn’t offering you charity because I don’t think you’re capable of getting your own job. I offered a man with the exact skillset we’re looking for, a job protecting our current sixty-seven residents who have been victimized and degraded, while they work to rebuild their lives. I was inviting you to be the first and only male member of our staff, the only man besides Justin who I’d trust to walk among our vulnerable clients, unsupervised.”

  Anger forced her out of bed. “As far as the job not being good enough or respectable enough or paying enough to suit you...” She flicked on the light, found her panties and slacks on the floor and jammed her feet into them. “A simple, ‘not interested’ would have sufficed. But let me tell you, I can’t think of any job more respectable and rewarding than protecting women and children, than providing them with a safe environment in which they feel comfortable enough to let down their guard so they can learn and grow and regain their confidence. So they can go on to live happier more fulfilling lives.” Ian was as much of a snob as Jerry the jerk. “And FYI, the job market in this area is saturated. I have fifty applicants begging to work for us. So before you make a snap decision that a job is unworthy of you, maybe you should check out the job description and wage scale.”