by HotShots
“Okay.”
He sighed. “I mean it, Dakota. I’m not pulling you out early for any other reason.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“I do say so!” His voice had gotten louder, and the driver glanced at us in the rear view mirror. Ike blew out a long breath, seeming to be making a conscious effort to calm down and lower his voice. “Damn it, what is there about you that makes me so crazy?”
“I don’t know, but I thank God for it.”
He smiled, and I smiled back at him. He opened his mouth to say something and a huge sound crashed over us. It was so loud my teeth rattled in my head, but before I could move, the truck tilted, and I was falling backward. Ike lunged at me and then the world disappeared and everything went black.
*~*~*
Col. Ike Morgan
I was lying on a gurney, with a long plastic tube filling with my blood. I closed my eyes and thought about Dakota. I’d give every last drop of blood I had if it would help him. The doctors said he was doing fine, but I still needed to see him, to talk to him. Since he was unconscious, I couldn’t do that, so giving blood made me feel like I was doing something, anyway. We’d hit a roadside bomb, of course, or caught a piece of it anyway, and even though the armored vehicles we rode in were resistant to mines, they weren’t absolutely foolproof, either.
Dakota had sustained a head injury and been knocked unconscious. The concussion he suffered was complicated by a blood clot near his brain, and though he was being treated with blood thinners and the doctors had assured me Dakota would make a full recovery, I’d refused all efforts to get me to return to camp. I needed to see his cheeky little grin and look into those beautiful eyes before I could go.
When I finished with the transfusion, I made my way back to Dakota’s room. He was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, looking small and vulnerable. IV lines pumped saline and antibiotics into him. He’d regained consciousness earlier that morning, and the doctors said he was just sleeping now. The medications they were giving him were strong, and it might be hours yet before he woke up again. Damn him for putting himself at risk like this.
I picked up his hand and kissed it, not giving a damn about the corpsman standing by the next bed. I had given the Army almost thirty years. I wasn’t giving them this too. I must have sat there beside him for over two more hours before he started to show signs of waking up. His eyelids fluttered and he stirred before he slowly opened his eyes. Blinking hard, his body tensed as his gaze darted around the room, probably trying to figure out where he was. I squeezed his hand, drawing his attention to me, and I kissed his fingers again. “You’re in the hospital, baby. The doctors said you’ll be fine, though, so no worries, okay?”
Blinking a few more times, he nodded, wincing as if the movement hurt his head and shifted a little in bed. “Ow.” He put a shaky hand to his brow. “God, what happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. We hit a mine, and you have a concussion, but the doctors say you’ll be fine. Your boss has been calling about once an hour, and everyone’s been worried about you. You even made the national news they tell me.”
“Oh. But no one else was hurt?”
“Just a few cuts and bruises—nothing to worry about. You’re leaving for home in a couple of hours on a hospital transport.”
Dakota gripped my hand. “But I don’t want to leave you.”
I leaned close and touched his lips, brushing my finger over them, unable to resist. They were cold and dry.
“It’ll only be a couple of months and then I’ll be coming home. In the meantime, we have our video chats, right?”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know, but it won’t be long. Let’s make a date for when I get home, okay? Meet me at Ft. Hood, when we all come home. I’ll take you out afterwards and we’ll paint the town. Isn’t that what they say in all the old movies?”
He nodded, still clinging to my hand for dear life. “Okay,” he said. “It’s a date.”
*~*~*
Dakota Greer—Two months later
Standing in the huge hangar, I clutched the small bouquet of flowers to my chest and looked around me nervously. The place was packed with spouses, children, parents and friends of the returning soldiers, and I felt a little out of place. Okay, a lot out of place. I wouldn’t dream of giving Ike the flowers in front of everybody, but I was hoping to catch his eye when they arrived and maybe he would see I had them. I could give them to him later when we were alone.
It suddenly occurred to me--and a hell of a time for it too, as they were due to arrive in the next few minutes—that I had no idea if he really meant it when he’d asked me to come to Ft. Hood to meet him when he arrived. The last time I mentioned coming to Texas I didn’t get a very warm response, after all. As a matter of fact, we stopped talking for three weeks. Of course, he’d asked me to come this time, and mentioned it several times since then on our video chats, but had he really meant it? Was he just feeling guilty about my injury and feeling sorry for me?
The crowd began to stir excitedly around me and I saw the troops arriving near the entrance. They marched in together and got into formation. My gaze was totally focused on my colonel. He led the column of soldiers, looking all sexy and official in his uniform. My heart was fluttering in my chest as I watched him salute and then shake hands with the Ft. Hood commanding general, who gave a little speech congratulating them on their mission and welcoming them all back home. I didn’t hear a word he said, as all my focus was on Ike. Finally it was over, and Ike gave the general a final salute before turning back to his men and dismissing them.
What followed was a glorious kind of chaos. The soldiers rushed forward at the same time as the crowd. They met roughly in the middle of the floor with wives and children and parents and grandparents being scooped up in the soldiers’ arms, while tears and laughter surrounded me on all sides. I stood still in the middle of it all because Ike had spotted me and was walking determinedly toward me.
He stopped right in front of me, and I gave him a nervous little smile and held out my hand. His eyes never left mine, and ignoring my hand, he swept me up in his arms, bent me backward and kissed me right there in front of God, the general and the entire battalion. Kissed me until I couldn’t breathe, kissed me until my body was flashing first hot and then cold, and I thought I would pass out. Vaguely, I was aware of applause.
I lifted my hot face from his shoulder and looked around us to see almost his entire battalion and their families applauding for us. I lifted my flowers up and on an impulse I tossed them over my head, like a bride throwing her bouquet. I looked back into Ike’s eyes and the look I saw there told me we had both finally made it home.
The End
About the Authors
Destiny Blaine and her pseudonyms are bestselling international e-book and trade paperback authors. She lives in East Tennessee with her husband and daughter. Her son is serving in the United States Navy.
Visit Destiny on the web at www.destinyblaine.com or www.destinyblaine.blogspot.com.
T Lee Garland lives in Clarksville, Tennessee. One of her first memories as a child is her Uncle Roy giving her a Little Golden book for her Birthday. That’s all it took, she was hooked on reading. She read her first romance book at seventeen and never looked back. She loves a bad boy who doesn’t know how good he really is. As a matter of fact she married one! She loves writing strong female characters who know what they want and aren’t afraid to go after it. She is a “newbie” with Dark Hollows Press, but hopes to continue writing erotica, she loves getting to share the characters in her head with others. She aspires to write bad boys as well as Anne Stuart, whose Ice Series is one of her favorites.
She shares her home with about one hundred Barbies, countless books and movies, a rescued beagle named Samwise Gamgee (Sammie for short) and a plump, elderly cat named Coco. She is most proud of her two sons and the beautiful, talented ladies they married. She wou
ld love to hear from you on her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/T-Lee-Garland-Author/661072240627493 or follow her on Pinterest at http://www.pinterest.com/authortleegarla/
And in case you were wondering that Little Golden book is still one of her most priceless treasures…forty-seven years later.
Rider Jacobs was raised in a small town in the corner of Kansas where her mother installed in her a love of books, and as a result she developed a love for all things paranormal at an early age. After spending ten years in the bright lights of Las Vegas, Rider decided she wanted a much slower paced life and returned to Kansas. It was here that she met a friend who loved her stories and encouraged her to submit them.
When not writing Rider loves to read anything she can get her hands on from the dark taboo erotic books to the lighter Amish romance. She also has an interest in the lost art of pen paling. Putting pen to paper and sharing the good times and the bad through the written word with friends near and far. Rider also loves to travel and while she has been to the tourist attractions, she much prefers the hidden gems off the beaten path that few know about. It is these adventures that often find their way into her books.
Rider would love to hear from you. You can follow her blog at http://riderjacobs4.wordpress.com and also find her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AngelRothamelAndAjKelton
Tavish Lee has been writing male/male erotica for over twenty years, long before it became so popular among today’s ebook readers. Tavish draws inspiration from a longtime fascination with guys who like to walk (among other things) on the wild side of life.
Shannon West currently lives in the South with her husband and family. A lover and avid reader of M/M romances, she began writing them a few years ago and now has over forty short stories, novellas, and novels to her credit. She was a finalist in the Rainbow Awards for 2013 and very honored to be an All Romance Ebooks Top Ten Author for 2013. She loves men and everything about them, and believes that love is love, no matter the gender. She mostly spends her days at the keyboard, trying to elude housework, which stalks her relentlessly.
You can learn more about Shannon and her books on Facebook and at her website, www.shannonwestbooks.com
Many of our Dark Hollows Press authors have deep roots in the armed forces, whether having served themselves or having family members who have or are currently serving in the military. Because of this Dark Hollows Press will be donating 10% of all net profits from Hot Shots to the Fisher House Foundation.
The Fisher House Foundation is a network of comfort homes where families can stay at no cost while a loved one is receiving treatment. These homes are located at major U.S. military and VA medical centers nationwide, close to the medical center or hospital it serves. Fisher Houses have up to 21 suites, with private bedrooms and baths. Families share a common kitchen, laundry facilities, a warm dining room and an inviting living room. Fisher House Foundation ensures that there is never a fee. Since inception, the program has saved military and veteran families an estimated $200 million in out of pocket costs for lodging and transportation.
Dark Hollows Press
Dark Hollows Press is a publisher of all genres of erotic expression.
We believe our authors are artists and their talent shouldn't be censored, so our authors present high quality stories full of romance, desire, and sometimes graphic moments that are both entertaining and erotic. We have an exclusive group of talented writers and we publish stories that range from historical to fantasy, sci-fi to contemporary.
We invite you to visit us at www.darkhollowspress.com.
