Soldier Boy

by Alam, Donna

  ‘You’re never interested in anything for very long,’ Mel says.

  ‘You’re wrong.’ His eyes never leave my face as he says, ‘Doesn’t matter how far I travel, some interests never go away.’

  Mel shrugs off his words before returning to the virtues of being loved by multiple men.

  ‘I’m going to the bar,’ I announce, no longer able to keep my gaze from returning Ben’s smouldering looks. Yes, smouldering. I’m surprised my clothes haven’t disintegrated the way he’s been looking at me. Brazen, and in front of his sister, too. I’m not complaining, but I think we’ve all had a little too much to drink for our secrets to come tumbling out.

  ‘I’ll come.’ I stop in my tracks, his words reverberating around my insides like an echo of something else. I’ll make you come. Come for me, Nell.

  ‘No. Stay. It’s silly because that means Mel has to move.’

  ‘God, let him go with you. Make him pay. It’s the least he can do for frightening off our admirers.’

  ‘What?’ His attention swings to Mel as she shuffles her bottom along the booth.

  ‘You, you big lump.’ Turning, she pokes him in the chest. ‘Your presence tonight has frightened off all the men who’d want to buy us drinks.’

  Ben shoots me a questioning look, to which I shrug.

  ‘How else do you think she affords her shoe habit?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Mel responds, shooing us off with a wave of both hands. ‘Don’t forget, it’s Ben’s round.’

  ‘I’m quite capable of a trip to the bar.’

  ‘You’re capable of a lot of things.’

  It’s noisier at the other end of the club. The bass reverberates through the soles of my feet, and I have to lean in to hear what he said. Or at least, that’s my excuse.

  ‘What did you say?’

  His hand slides around my hip, pulling my body to his. ‘You’re capable of driving me insane. Capable of making me endure a hard-on all night, you with your pink, wet lips, and your fuck-me eyes.’ Every single one of his words has a very visceral effect on my body, and I find myself pressing myself closer. ‘Fuck, how much longer do we have to stay here?’

  ‘As I recall, you weren’t invited.’

  ‘Ah, that’s right. You were hoping to build your harem of admirers tonight.’

  ‘If you’re a good boy, I’ll save a spot for you.’ As we reach the bar, I throw him a sultry look over my shoulder. At least, I hope it is. This whole flirting deal makes me feel a little like a fish out of water.

  ‘Pinot, right?’ the barman asks. I laugh a little, surprised that he remembered.

  ‘No, I think I’m going to try something else.’

  ‘The lady fancies a change,’ he announces, sending me a flirty wink that’s quickly followed by a glance at the wall of man standing beside me. I find myself chuckling and slightly bemused. I’ve made an effort tonight—I’m flashing a little leg. I’d even gone as far as to create a little smoky eye makeup and dig out a pair of heels, but surely, none of that is wholly responsible for the attention I’ve received from the opposite sex. Ben, the barman, my phone. It’s all a little mad.

  ‘What’ll it be, gorgeous?’

  Th barman’s question pulls me out of my head, and I tip up on the points of my toes to better see his wares. Not his wares—I’m not looking at his junk—I’m just trying to see the contents of the glass fronted fridges on the other side of the bar.

  ‘I don’t know. What’s good?’

  ‘On this side of the bar, everything’s good.’

  I find myself tittering as, beside me, Ben silently scowls. Right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if he suddenly breathed fire from his nose.

  ‘Here, sweetheart, why don’t you have a look at this?’ Ben says, passing me a cocktail menu.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ I take it in my greedy hands.

  ‘I’ll have a bottle of Bullfinch,’ he then says, his tone flat and aggressive. As the barman turns away to fix his order, I turn my face to him.

  ‘That alliteration was delivered a little violently, Benjamin.’

  His gaze flicks to mine for a beat, a smile hovering in the corners of his mouth. ‘Not nearly as violent as I’m going to be if you don’t stop flirting with him.’

  ‘I don’t like being told what to do,’ I reply with just a touch of taunt. ‘It usually makes me do the opposite.’

  ‘Then I’ll be forced to take evasive action.’

  ‘That sounds ominous,’ I reply airily as I turn my attention back to the cocktail menu. ‘You’re not one of those men who thinks fists solve everything, are you?’ When I chance another glance, his eyes meet mine full of challenge.

  ‘The truth is, every soldier likes to solve his problems with fists from time to time. And while I’d probably enjoy taking him outside and beating the disrespect out of him, it actually wasn’t him I was thinking of punishing.’

  ’Oh?’ I answer airily.

  ‘Hmm. It was you.’

  ‘I’m not sure I much like the sound of that, either.’ I don’t look up, though I’m aware of how my body contradicts my mouth as a molten heat floods my veins, every ounce of my blood flow heading south.

  ‘I wasn’t asking for your permission,’ he answers, stepping closer. ‘Carry on with those flirty eyes and little giggles, and I’ll spank your arse whether you think you’ll like it or not.’

  I seem to have so many feelings about this, and most of those feelings are happening in the vicinity of my panties. What the hell?

  ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ I whisper, sliding him a narrow-eyed glance.

  Ben straightens, giving his shoulders an almost imperceptible roll. ‘Really, Nell? Wouldn’t I?’ Oh, fuck. I know he would. ‘What’s more, you’d like it. It could be like old times.’

  ‘What, you mean like me running away from you screaming?’

  ‘You’d scream,’ he answers evenly. ‘I’d make sure of it. And you’d squirm. But you wouldn’t running anyplace.’

  My mouth falls open, but before I can say another word, Mel appears between us, her arms slung around both our necks. ‘Who’s going where? And what’s taking so long with the drinks? Has he gone to milk the vodka cow or something?’

  ‘What?’ I ask, my mouth answering a question my brain hasn’t yet quite registered, still stuck on the idea that Ben would threaten to spank me. Me—a doctor and a professional. I’m short, but I’m no one’s little girl. He wouldn’t, would he? And I wouldn’t let him . . . I don’t think.

  ‘Cocktails, yummy!’ Mel squeals, snatching the menu from my hand. As the barman sets Ben’s drink down in front of him, she begins to fire questions at him about the choices of gin in something called a Vesper.

  ‘You’d like it,’ Ben’s low voice taunts as he passes me another menu. Leaning in closer still, he runs his finger across the laminated booklet as though helping me decide.

  ‘How can you be sure?’ I murmur, my eyes not reading the description, my heart beating so hard I can feel it.

  ‘Call it an educated guess.’

  ‘How strange,’ I say almost to myself. ‘There was a reason I didn’t want more wine.’ His brow creases a touch as I carry on. ‘There’s wisdom in wine, so they say. And tonight, I decided I want to be a little reckless.’

  As my gaze flicks to his again, I find I can’t read his expression, but our moment is broken as Melody turns to us once again.

  ‘What you having, Pen?’

  My eyes flick to the menu, my mouth seemingly deciding for me without the firing of synapses. ‘I’ll have a Hanky-Spank, I think.’

  ‘I don’t think I saw that one on the menu,’ she says, looking down at the thing, confused.

  ‘Because it’s not on there,’ replies the barman with a smirk. ‘But he looks like he knows exactly how to give her one.’

  Chapter 14

  PENNY

  ‘Ah, babe, you got so may Tinder licks tonight.’

  ‘I got what?’

  ‘So, so many,’ Mel sa
ys, shaking her head like a toddler being offered a spoon of peas. ‘Sooo many!’

  ‘Come on. Let’s get you to bed.’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask,’ comes Ben’s voice from somewhere in the kitchen. Hell, it’s a good job she’s insensible.

  ‘Many, many Tinder licks on your profile.’

  Mel flops backwards onto the couch as I try to decipher drunk speak, deciding she must mean Tinder profile likes.

  ‘Jus cover me with a blankey an I’ll takeyoutobrunch tomorrow. Myshhowt.’

  ‘You don’t want to sleep on the sofa,’ I cajole, pulling on Mel’s arm. ‘Come on. There’s room upstairs. If you stay here, Smalls will come and sit on your face.’

  ‘Kinky cat,’ she says, giggling. ‘Can you get pink eye from cat farts?’ she asks, lifting her head and only her head.

  ‘He’s more likely to suffocate you in the dead of night.’

  ‘Make the room stop spinning,’ she whines, snatching her arm away and pulling a throw cushion over her face.

  ‘I told you not to drink that last cocktail.’

  Lifting the cushion, she sends me a narrow-eyed gaze. ‘S’not helpful, Pen. I was drowning my sorrows. What kind of boyfrien’ doesn’t care if you’re not comin’ home?’

  ‘Evidently yours,’ Ben answers, walking into the living room. ‘Here.’ Arm under his sister’s head, he pulls her up to sit. ‘Drink some of this,’ he says, passing her a glass of water. ‘And don’t puke on Penny’s nice rug.’

  ‘Tim didn’t even care,’ she repeats balefully.

  ‘Yeah, well, you choose the shit. Want me to go beat him to a pulp?’

  ‘That’s not helpful.’ Folding my arms, I frown at him.

  ‘Pull the throw over her. She’ll be fine.’

  ‘She should be in bed.’

  ‘I know another couple of people who should be, too. Though not for the same reason.’

  ‘You should be nicer to your sister,’ I say, not taking the bait. ‘You’ve only got one.’

  ‘Thank God. And I’m disinclined to be nice to someone who sang at the top of her lungs in the cab all the way home. Besides,’ he adds, pulling the throw from the nearby armchair to cover Mel with it himself, ‘this Tinder shit she’s pulled makes me want to suffocate her myself.’

  ‘So you’re jealous?’

  ‘Why would I be jealous?’ he asks, full of a supreme and taunting kind of confidence as he stands, seemingly taking up all the air in the room.

  ‘Jealous of the attention my Tinder profile had tonight.’

  ‘You think I resent you going on coffee dates with a few limp dicks?’ His gaze drops from my eyes to my mouth, and then my breasts, and my nipples begin to tingle like his touch is a physical thing.

  ‘Maybe I’ll like one of them. Maybe he’ll go to dinner.’

  ‘Maybe you will,’ he says, coming to stand in front of me. Towering over me.

  ‘Maybe I’ll let you take me to dinner.’

  My reply is less like a retort and more tentative. ‘Sweetheart, I don’t want to take you to dinner.’ His tone is lazy, low, and seductive, a tenor that shivers across my skin. But I’m not disappointed by his words. Not as he leans around me, flicking the light switch and plunging the room into semi darkness. ‘I want you to be my dinner.’

  In the dark and with his sister soundly sleeping on the sofa behind him, Ben takes my hips in his hands, pulling me into his hardness. My breath hitches, everything within me suddenly dialled to a nine. My nipples ache in the confines of my bra as I strain to rub against him, my panties already damp.

  ‘I am jealous,’ he whispers. ‘I’d go insane if I let myself think about other men’s hands touching you.’ His head moves a fraction of an inch, the streetlamp outside making his eyes glitter at that moment as his warm, hoppy breath touches my face. ‘But you’re right to find someone else.’

  ‘Ben,’ I whisper, raising my hand to cup his cheek. ‘Let’s not talk about this.’ He’s not going to be around. I get it. But that’s later, not now.

  He swallows audibly, preparing to speak again, when I place my finger across his lips to silence him.

  ‘Not tonight,’ I whisper, still sensing his hesitancy to give in. ‘Tomorrow. We’ll talk tomorrow. Just . . .’

  In the dark room, it’s easy to forget that Mel lies asleep on the couch. It’s easy to ignore that we will never be more than stolen moments without promises. But there’s something about the darkness that makes me feel brave as I tip up onto my toes, pressing my lips to the small triangle of skin exposed at the neck of his shirt.

  His skin vibrates under my lips, his fingers tightening on my hips.

  Tightening. Loosening. Tightening again.

  Sliding around to squeeze my ass.

  Backing me up against the wall.

  Pushing his hard body against where I’m soft.

  Heightening my senses.

  ‘W-what about Mel?’

  He doesn’t answer, not with words; instead, he presses his lips to my head with a desperate growl.

  ‘Stop talking.’ His first kiss is just a wisp of air. His second, a brush. His third, the press of teeth against the soft skin of my lip.

  ‘She might wake up.’

  ‘I don’t give a fuck.’ His words are like a sudden thrust of fingers between my legs—a shocking sensation that makes my core clench. Drowning in an overload of sensation, I whimper as his teeth find my jaw, my neck, the day’s stubble abrading my skin.

  ‘You make me want to hurt you,’ he whispers, taking my head in his hands. Everything turns molten, and I’m thankful for the wall at my back, keeping me up.

  ‘You make me want to let you.’ It’s not so dark that I can’t see the gleam of his white teeth.

  ‘Put your hands above your head.’

  My arms move almost of their own volition, the skin on the back of my hands hot against the cool wall. He doesn’t move, the only point of contact between us his hands now resting around my neck, his thumb lightly brushing the rapid beat of my pulse. His lips touch my forehead as he presses one hand against mine while his other cups my breast.

  ‘Are you wet?’

  ‘Please.’ My response sounds so needy as Ben presses his lips to my ear.

  ‘I asked you a question, and I expect you to answer it.’

  ‘You could always find out for yourself.’

  This is madness. This isn’t me. Yet I feel I’m wired to resist to the maximum. To drive him mad—to make him want me as much as I want him.

  In an instant, Ben’s hands move, pulling the fabric of my skirt roughly up my thighs, pulling it so hard, my ass bounces against the wall and the stitching splits. Once it’s rucked around my waist, he shoves his big hands down the back of my silky panties, squeezing my ass as though it belongs to him. Squeezing it. Needing it. Stretching the cheeks apart.

  ‘Last chance, sweetheart,’ he says, his fingers teasing the thin strip of fabric between my legs.’ Tell me how wet you are, or I’m going to shove my fingers inside you so hard and for so long, you’ll think they belong there.’

  ‘That sounds like an incentive.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ The low timbre of his voice is enough to send shivers across my skin without what he says next. ‘Because that’s just the beginning.’

  Instantly, two rough fingers press inside me without any preamble, thrusting deep inside, causing me to cry out. Ben kisses me hard then, swallowing my whimpers as he works those fingers inside me again and again. Two fingers become three as he murmurs a quiet hush into my mouth, his fingers swiping through my shameful wetness to bring moisture against my clit. He begins to pet and touch, all the while my insides clench emptily.

  ‘Please, Ben,’ I whisper. ‘I need you.’ I push my body against his hand, wanting the rough feel of his fingers inside me. But he doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t let up. In my desperation to take control, I begin to lower my hands when he catches them, pressing them back in place, entwining his fingers with mine as h
e braces himself with his forearm. My whole body draws upwards as he presses his mouth over the thin material of my blouse, his teeth finding my nipple tight and taut immediately. Pinned by his hands at both ends and captured by his teeth, I begin to come undone, my orgasm crawling through me and gathering like a summer storm. Up on my toes, I chase the sensation, whimpering and thrashing, trying to pull him to me. I forget about Mel for the moment, forget about propriety and the upper hand. The abandonment feels so erotic, it takes my breath away.

  ‘I can smell you,’ he rasps. ‘Your tight little pussy is desperate for my cock.’

  The noises I make in response aren’t exactly a denial.

  ‘And you’ll get it. After I taste you. After I bury myself in your sweet perfume.’ I gasp at his dirty words, the images blooming and bursting just my orgasm begins to crest, growing and expanding, forcing my legs wider and my body lower as I begin to flex against his hand.

  ‘Fuck, look at you, riding my hand.’ His words cease to have meaning or make sense as I begin to whimper and thrash, my insides pulsing emptily. I want to use my hands, to scrape and scratch, to pull him to the floor, to fill myself. But despite the images filling my head, I can do nothing but stay pinned like a butterfly, trapped by his attentions.

  As the realisation dawns, my orgasm takes over.

  ‘Ben, I need—’

  —what he gives me as he thrusts three long fingers in deep.

  ‘That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck my fingers. Fuck them hard,’ he growls, pressing his thumb to my oversensitive clit. ‘Before I take you upstairs and fuck your mouth.’

  With one final thrust, I undulate against him as I come thoroughly undone.

  Chapter 15

  BEN

  If Nell is concerned about Melody disturbing us, she doesn’t show it as she rests her head against my chest. Her breathing has settled as I stroke my fingers the length of her narrow back. More importantly, for the possibility of discovery, my fingers are coated in her cooling essence and she’s wearing her skirt as a belt. I love that none of it matters to her right now. Love how in to us she is.