by T. R. Cupak
“Now, you may continue,” he says without missing a beat.
“My pleasure, Nate.” I reach for his pants and undo the button and zipper. He audibly sighs as I relieve some of the pressure. I push his pants down and take his briefs with them. I bend down and get on my knees to help him remove his shoes and socks, then slip his pants off completely. Grabbing his hips, I give him a push. His ass lands on the bed, and he lets out a quiet grunt. I can’t stop my eyes from drifting up to steal a look at his erection.
I run my hands up his calves and splay my hands over his thighs. Licking my lips, I can’t take my eyes off his hard cock. But I want more control.
“Get all the way on the bed, hands above your head and grab the metal bar of the headboard.” I order him. He immediately does what I command. I get on the bed and crawl up his body, letting my hard nipples skim his legs, abs, and chest. Then I wiggle them in his face while I secure both hands in the cuffs with the hinge wrapped around the back of the bar.
“You, sergeant, look incredible,” I purr as I sit back on my heels to survey my work.
“Steph, you need to use that device on the nightstand and double lock my cuffs, so they don’t tighten up any more. Safety first.” He winks at me with that little grin on his full lips. He isn’t playing fair. Damn he is sexy cuffed and stretched out; he’s all hard lines and angles. And I know by that wink that he is toying with me.
“Fine,” I say as I stretch my body across his, nearly laying myself on top of him to reach the nightstand and the little instrument. I use it as he instructs and place it back on the table. A growl comes from deep inside his chest when I hear him try to reach for me only to be stopped by the cuffs. Then I set to work on driving the implacable Sergeant Jacobs wild with need.
Chapter Five
Nathaniel
It’s just after midnight—Stephanie is asleep with her ass curved into my body—when I hear my phone vibrate on the nightstand next to me. Even though I’m technically off duty, an officer is never really off duty, so I carefully slide away from Steph, turn and grab the phone. I recognize the caller ID. Even though it’s not a law enforcement emergency, a small spike of nerves makes my heart beat a little faster. I need to answer this call. I take the phone and quietly go to the bathroom and close the door before I hit connect.
“Mom? Is everything okay?” I ask, worry and a little panic in my voice.
“Yes, I’m so sorry to bother you, Nathaniel. I know you asked to have a quiet weekend, but Rosalie woke up from a bad dream and refused to go back to sleep until she talked to you. I tried everything, but she was insistent, so I called.” My mom’s sweet voice is so apologetic, but I’m glad she called. My blood pressure and heart rate are returning to norm.
“It’s fine, Mom. I wasn’t asleep. Put her on.”
“Hi, Daddy,” my little three-year-old says through the phone, quiet and hesitant.
“Hey, pumpkin,” I say soothingly. “Grammy says you had a bad dream. Do you want to tell Daddy about it?” I speak softly so I don’t wake Stephanie; she’d just fallen asleep fifteen minutes or so before the call.
“Daddy, there were monsters and they were chasing me,” she tells me in the unmistakable way a three-year-old has of pronouncing their words. Her voice sounds a bit younger than normal. It always does when she is feeling vulnerable.
“What did you do to make them go away? Remember how Daddy told you that the monsters will go away if you tell them to? You have magical powers when you’re dreaming.” I use the most calming voice I can muster. “I’m sorry Daddy isn’t there to help you make them go away, but you know what?”
“What?” Rosalie asks with a bit more confidence in her voice.
“When I was your age, I had monsters in my dreams too. Do you know who helped me make them go away and helped me go back to sleep?”
“No, who?” she asks with genuine curiosity.
“Grammy did. If she could make my monsters go away when I was your age, I’m sure she can make your monsters go away too.”
“Grammy did?” Her voice is full of awe. I can picture her little face looking up at my mom with amazement, and my heart squeezes. “Grammy can make them go away?”
“Uh-huh. She sure can. Maybe even better than I can,” I tell her. “Now, can you do Daddy a favor and let Grammy put you back to bed so you can get a good night’s sleep? You need to be rested so you and Grammy can go do something fun tomorrow. Okay?” I hold my breath, silently praying she’ll be able to sleep without any more nightmares. If she has another one, I’ll go pick her up.
“Okay. I like being with Grammy. Night, Daddy. I love you.” With that, there is a short silence before my mom is back on the phone.
“Thanks, Mom. Give Rosalie a kiss and tell her I love her. If she doesn’t get back to sleep or if she wakes up again, don’t feel bad, just call and I’ll come get her. I don’t mind.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, I can handle it from here. We’ll be fine, but I will call if I need to. Goodnight.”
With the call ended, I make sure to turn on the ringer in case Mom needs to call back. I use the toilet, wash, and turn off the light before re-entering the bedroom. I crawl back into bed as quietly as possible, pulling Stephanie into my body, feeling myself getting ready for round two.
“Was that the phone?” she mumbles in her sleepy haze.
“Yeah, everything’s all right.” I don’t want to discuss the phone call with her, not now, so I snuggle my face into the crook of her neck, kissing and nipping the lobe of her ear. “But I seem to be having a growing problem that you might be able to help with.” I nudge my erection against her backside, and she moans her approval. We leave all rational thoughts of the outside world behind as we tip into our own private universe once again.
I still wake early, considering the lack of sleep I got last night. I can’t hide my smile as I gaze at the tousled golden strands spread over the pillow beside me. Steph is out like a light, and I don’t want to wake her, so I sneak out of the bedroom as quietly as possible. I go out to my car, where I have a duffle full of civies, gym clothes, and toiletries. I decide to shower in the other bathroom, so I won’t wake her up. I throw on a pair of gym shorts and head down to make some coffee and see what I can fix for a nice brunch.
I’m in the middle of chopping bell peppers for a Denver omelet when I sense her.
“What’s all this?” she asks as she wraps her arms around me from behind, squeezing my waist. “It smells good. What can I do to help?” She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses my neck.
“Get yourself some coffee and go sit down. Otherwise, we’ll be skipping breakfast, especially if you keep touching me like that,” I warn her, turning and giving her a swift kiss on the nose. Swiveling her away and scooting her towards the coffeemaker, I give her a playful swat on the butt. She has on the same outfit that she greeted me in last night, and I need to concentrate on the task at hand. Food first.
“Did you have any specific plans for today?” I ask, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she puts creamer into her coffee.
“No, I’m completely open, and I place myself at your mercy, Nate. I’m yours to do with whatever you want.” She looks over her shoulder and winks at me with a coy smile on her lips.
She takes her coffee and goes to take a quick shower while I cook the breakfast. When she comes back into the kitchen, her skin is flushed from the hot water and her hair has been towel dried and combed. Steph doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on, and she is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She sits at the counter watching me plate the food and set down the silverware, napkins, and some orange juice I had already poured. As soon as my butt hits the chair, she digs in.
“Oh my God, Nate. This is fantastic. I guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was. You worked up quite an appetite for me.” She hums her approval while eating her breakfast faster than I do. It makes me happy to see her content in all the ways that matter.
“So, I thought about tod
ay, and I was thinking we could just hang out here. Be lazy, watch TV or some movies, then order some takeout food for dinner. And, of course that leaves us lots of time to be spontaneous,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. She giggles, slapping me on the leg nearest to her.
“I think that plan sounds perfect.” She polishes off the last of her omelet and drains her juice. “You know,” she starts hesitantly, bringing her hand up to a scar on my thigh that my shorts aren’t covering. Her fingers absently probe the indentation.
“What, Stephanie?” My voice sounds a bit harsher than I meant it to, but I can’t help it. I don’t like talking about the gunshot wound I received while on duty, and I definitely do not like to remember the look in her cerulean eyes when she pulled the ER curtain back and saw me lying there with a pressure bandage on my leg, blood soaked through despite its bulk. Her face lost all its color, worry etched into deep lines on her face. When I tried to reassure her with the age-old, “you should see the other guy” routine, it was obvious she didn’t appreciate the humor. She quickly assessed me before telling me she was calling in a surgeon for a consult and left the room as fast as she’d come in. It wasn’t until I went to the surgeon’s office to get the stitches removed that I found out she’d thrown up as soon as she left and had been on edge for days afterwards. I flinch at the memory her soft touch evoked. Ignoring my reaction, she continues.
“We could do a Dexter marathon. I’ve got snacks and pop or beer and a big fluffy blanket to snuggle under.” She pulls her hand away from the scar and gives me a genuine smile. I heave a huge sigh of relief that she is letting it go without a discussion.
“You want to know what I think?” I ask and continue without waiting for an answer. “I think you are perfect company for a weekend off.” I lean over, pulling her face to mine and kiss her. I pour all the emotions I feel for Steph into it.
The rest of the day was perfect because we did exactly as she suggested. We binged on junk food, pop, and a vigilante serial killer. We followed brunch up with Chinese takeout we had delivered. We necked and fooled around so much I think we missed a whole season. The night was fantastic too.
Chapter Six
Stephanie
Sunday morning dawned with the promise of a gorgeous fall day full of sunshine and warmer than usual weather despite the chill from the night before. This is turning out to be the perfect weekend, and I have no regrets for the phone call to Nate on Friday that started this. I almost ruined it when I saw his scar, but, I pushed past my fears. Sergeant Nathaniel Jacobs loves his job. I need to deal with the memory and the fear it invokes, because I refuse to anything but supportive of his chosen profession.
I get out of bed, pulling Nate with me.
“Come on sleepy head. First a shower and then waffles,” I coax him even when he tries to pull me back to bed. He grumbles, but follows me into the bathroom and the oversized, glassed-in shower enclosure. “We need to talk.” I tell him as we finish up in the shower and he attempts to dry me off.
“Aww, Stephanie. Really? That’s the last thing a guy wants to hear at the end of an incredible weekend like this.”
I swat at him playfully.
“Seriously. We need to decide two things,” I continue before he has another chance to protest. He doesn’t even know what he’s protesting.
“First, where do you want to take Rosalie today after we pick her up from your mom’s? I was thinking, it’s such a nice day, maybe the zoo?” I watch Nate ponder that and ask my next question. “Second, what do you want to start out with for “parents only weekend” next month? I was thinking we could do kind of an angel and devil type of thing, or an innocent barmaid and a hot biker, or maybe a cheerleader and the star of the football team? We could do this again—it was fun. What do you think, Sergeant Jacobs?” I ask. We both are in such high-pressure jobs, jobs that literally deal with life and death, so we know how important it is to destress. Each month we set aside one weekend when one of the grandparents watches our daughter so we can relax, play, have some fun, and maybe create a little fantasy.
“I think the zoo sounds great. Are your parents taking care of Rosalie next month? If not, I’m sure my mom would be happy to do it two months in a row,” Nate says.
I chuckle because my mother-in-law always asks when it’s her turn.
“Oh, that reminds me—that phone call on Friday night, it was Mom. Our little sweetie woke up with a bad dream and wouldn’t go back to sleep without talking to Mommy or Daddy. You had just fallen asleep, so I didn’t want to wake you. She was fine after I talked to her,” Nate says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Oh, you won’t wake me when our daughter wants me, but as I recall, you had no problem waking me when you wanted me.” I grin at my handsome husband, glad we haven’t lost this spark and playfulness, even after six years of marriage.
“Cheerleader and football star,” Nate states. “I can’t wait to see you shake some pom-poms at me with nothing else on, and I can practice tackling you, Dr. Anderson-Jacobs.” He swats me hard on the ass, then walks out of the room. “I’ll go pack Rosalie’s stuff for the zoo.”
* * *
THE END
About Linnea Valle
My name is Linnea Valle. I spent over thirty years with a dream of one day writing a novel and becoming a published author. In June of 2018, I achieved that dream by self-publishing my first novel, Like There’s No Tomorrow. This is a new adult, second chance/military romance with a few twists and a lot of heart. The stories I have yet to write are many. If you enjoyed this one, watch for more to come and check out Like There’s No Tomorrow, and a short story included in Letting Hope Enter, a charitable anthology for suicide awareness/prevention. Feel free to look me up online, like, follow me, and even join my private reader group, Valle’s Book Bistro. Links below.
* * *
Social Media Links:
Valle’s Book Bistro Group
Website
