One Year Home

by Marie Force

  Muncie surprises the hell out of us when he tells us in the car on the way back to the hotel that Amy is taking him sightseeing this afternoon.

  “I’ve never been to New York City before, and she offered.” He shrugs, looking adorable and flustered. “Do you guys want to come?”

  “I don’t,” I tell him. “I’ve got work to catch up on, and I’m going to run home to do some laundry.”

  “I’m going to take some Advil and hope my head stops pounding.”

  “Maybe I should stick around,” Muncie says. “In case you need anything.”

  “Nope, you’re off duty,” John says. “That’s an order.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I’m going to chill for the rest of the day.”

  “I’ll be back after a while and can check in.”

  “Go have fun.” I’d love to see something transpire between him and Amy, that sneaky devil. She never mentioned anything about this to me. I text her.

  I hear you’re taking Muncie out on a date??

  It’s not a date. He’s never been here before. I thought he might like to see a few things.

  Is that all it is?!?

  Yep. How are you? Saw J on Fallon. He slayed it.

  He really did, and on Today and Kelly & Ryan, too.

  Everyone is talking about him at work. People are obsessed with him.

  My phone rings nonstop. I need three days to wade through all the messages, texts and emails I’ve gotten in the last twenty-four hours.

  You’ve got your hands full, that’s for sure.

  If only she knew… What’s up with Eric?

  Rob said he wouldn’t talk to Ava last night when she went over there. It’s bad… I guess they both saw Jessica today. Separately, though. Waiting to hear how that went.

  That news makes my stomach hurt. Keep me posted?

  I will.

  Have fun with Muncie. I include heart emojis and get back the middle finger, which makes me laugh.

  “Holy shit,” John says when we pull up to the hotel, which is surrounded by people and press. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people. The NYPD is there, working to establish a perimeter, but the situation is a long way from under control.

  “We need security.” There’s no way I’m chancing John’s safety by subjecting him to crazy crowds.

  Muncie looks as freaked out as I feel. “I’ll see what the Navy can provide.”

  “We need people who know this city and how things work here. I’ll ask my office to arrange for something.”

  I fire off a text to Marcie telling her we need security for John. The hotel is surrounded with people. Need help 911.

  She responds quickly. I’m on it. Will get someone there asap.

  Hurry.

  “How are we going to get him in?” I ask Muncie, my nerves stretched to the limit at the thought of people coming at him and possibly knocking him over.

  The driver speaks up. “We can take him around the block to the service entrance. I’ve got a buddy that works here. I know where it is.”

  Muncie puts down his window, just enough to call over one of the bellmen who’s helping the cops try to control the chaos. “We’re going around to the service entrance. Have someone let us in.”

  “Will do.”

  The driver hits the gas and gets us out of there, rounding the corner with squealing tires. “We got lucky that the intersection was clear. You hardly ever see that around here.”

  John is tense as he stares out the window. The poor guy is probably shocked by that crowd. I know I am. I can only imagine how he must feel.

  “We’ve got top-notch security people my boss, Marcie, is contacting.” I wish I could touch him, but I won’t do that with Muncie in the car. It’s bad enough he knows what happened last night. Oh Christ. He won’t tell Amy, will he? Oh my God… I’m almost thirty years old and right back in junior high. How is this my life?

  You know exactly how…

  I want to tell my own brain to shut the hell up. How am I going to get a minute with Muncie before he leaves? I won’t, so I text him. He’s sitting next to me, so there’s no chance of John, who is across from us, seeing the text.

  Um, this is hella awkward, but please… Don’t tell Amy. Anything. Please? I’m breathless waiting for his reply.

  I would never. None of my business.

  Thank you.

  I’m worried about him.

  I’ll keep an eye on him.

  “Are you two talking about me?” John asks.

  “Nope,” Muncie and I say together, which basically confirms that we were, in fact, talking about him.

  “I’m fine. I swear.”

  “We believe you.” I send him a warm smile. I’m dying to wrap my arms around him, to let him know that everything is okay, that he is okay, that he did great today, that I’m proud of him, that I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him. If we can just get him inside…

  The service door opens, and the same bellman Muncie talked to out front, a man named Brad, is there to greet us. We go through the routine of getting the crutches, handing them to John and walking slowly behind him as he makes his way inside. He’s moving slower than he did yesterday, which leads me to wonder if his head was the only part of him injured in the fall.

  Muncie sees it, too, and sends me a concerned look.

  “Welcome back, Captain West. I apologize for the situation out front.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “We’ll get it handled, sir. And if I might add, you were great on Fallon last night.”

  “Thank you. Glad you thought so.”

  “Everyone thought so. The entire staff has been talking about it today.” He leads us to the service elevator and escorts us to the top floor, where he checks to make sure no one is lying in wait to pounce, before he signals for us to exit the elevator. “All clear.”

  Leaning on his crutches, John offers his hand. “Thank you, Brad.”

  “A pleasure, sir. Thank you for your service.”

  My heart swells with pride every time someone thanks him. Everyone should thank him. The whole damned world owes him a debt of gratitude for capturing that scum-sucking piece of shit Al Khad. We stop at Muncie’s door.

  “Home by midnight and use protection,” John says.

  I snort with laughter and then cough to try to cover it up, knowing Muncie won’t appreciate it.

  Muncie’s face turns bright red. “Fuck off. Sir.”

  John loses it laughing, and the sight of him in hysterics is so overwhelming, so amazing, that neither Muncie nor I can look away. We’ve never seen him laugh like that, and it’s quite a revelation to both of us. Slowly but surely, we’re starting to meet the man he was before his life was changed forever, and God help me, I like that man. I like him so much.

  When he recovers himself, John says, “Seriously. Have a good time. Enjoy the break. You’ve earned it.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you both in the morning. Call me if you need anything.”

  “I won’t need anything.”

  Muncie goes into his room. The door clicking shut behind him echoes through the hallway like a gunshot.

  John flinches and then seems to catch himself.

  I’m not sure if I should ask if he’s okay, so I don’t. I sense he wouldn’t want me to.

  “If I could hold your hand, I’d grab it and lead you straight into my room.”

  His words, spoken in a gruff tone, are the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.

  “Would you let me?”

  “Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper. I’d follow him anywhere. As that realization settles in on me, I experience a moment of clarity in the chaos of everything that’s happened in the last few days. My life is changing, possibly forever. I’m allowing that to happen by allowing this, with him, to happen, and my eyes are wide open to the potential price I’ll pay for taking what I want. He draws the keycard from his pocket, swipes it over the door and gestures for me to go in ahead
of him.

  I honestly planned to go home to my place this afternoon. I planned to do laundry and catch up on work and actually read the hundreds of emails and texts I’ve received. I was going to listen to my voicemails and start a list of offers for John to consider once the initial tour is complete. But instead, I drop my purse and reach for him at the same second his crutches fall to the marble floor with a loud crash.

  The kiss is incendiary. His hands are inside my suit coat, pulling at my blouse and on my bare skin before I can catch up to what’s happening.

  His head. He’s injured. We shouldn’t. I turn to break the kiss. “John, your head.”

  He presses his hard cock against me.

  “Not that one!” I sputter, laughing.

  “I’m fine. Shut up and kiss me.”

  “You have a concussion. You’re supposed to take it easy.”

  “Poppy,” he whispers, his lips soft against my neck and his cock hard against my belly. “It’s a mild concussion. Please?”

  I shiver and cave like a house of cards caught in a stiff breeze. “Only if you let me do all the work.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Once again, we tear at each other’s clothes like lunatics. I’ve never had sex like this. It’s always been slow and sweet and civilized. This is none of those things. It’s wild and untamed, the craving desire I feel for him turning me into a version of myself I’ve never met before. He’s equally uncivilized, and the sound of fabric tearing only makes me crazier than I already am.

  We fall on the bed in a tangle of limbs, and I almost forget about the concussion that’s not holding him back in any way.

  “John,” I gasp between the most passionate kisses of my life, “your head.”

  “Is fine. Kiss me.” With his hand on the back of my head, he pulls me into another kiss that’s all tongues and teeth and flat-out insanity.

  I keep thinking that this can’t be real, that this sort of thing doesn’t happen to actual people. It’s something you see in movies or read about in books. It can’t be happening to me. But it’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s divine. His hands are everywhere, his mouth ravenous. We come together like two comets on a collision course as he pumps into me deep, fast and rough.

  I come hard, crying out from the shocking pleasure that zips through me, and I’m on the way back up before I begin to recover from the first one.

  His teeth clamp down on my nipple as his fingers dig into the flesh of my ass. We’re both sweating as he hammers into me, his big cock stretching me to my absolute limit, but I’m right there with him, lost in this moment that’s changing me forever. Even as I’m swept away in a riptide that takes me far away from everything I’ve ever known, I have the presence of mind to know there’ll be no recovering from this man. If this doesn’t work out, I’ll never get over it. I’ll never get over him.

  “Poppy,” he whispers, straining against me and holding me so tightly I can barely breathe, “come with me.”

  Nothing has ever felt so good or so right or so perfect.

  As we come down from the highest of highs, I hear my work phone ring with the tone I assigned to Marcie. “I have to get that.”

  He holds me tighter, his muscles trembling. “Don’t go yet.”

  “It’s my boss.”

  “Tell her you were tending to your client.”

  That makes me laugh. Marcie will be furious if I don’t take her call, but I can’t bring myself to care when I’m lying in John’s arms, still breathing hard from the best sex I’ve ever had.

  “I’m sorry I was rough with you,” he says after a long silence.

  “In case you couldn’t tell, I loved it. But you were supposed to let me do all the work.”

  “You can do the work next time.” His eyes are closed, and his face is free of the tension that’s so much a part of him.

  I caress his cheek, wanting to bring him every bit of comfort and peace that I possibly can. “Does your head hurt?”

  “Like a bastard.”

  “Let me up. I’ll get you some ice and pain pills.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.”

  He opens his eyes, looking at me with eyes the bluest blue I’ve ever seen, as well as the vulnerability he tries so hard to keep hidden. “I don’t want to seem weak to you.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that. “In light of recent events, you have absolutely no need to worry about that.”

  “It was good for you?”

  “You can’t seriously be asking me that.”

  “I’m seriously asking you.”

  “It was… life changing.” I kiss his lips, both cheeks and his forehead. “You are life changing.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  “I think it might be.” I’m in so deep with him, deeper than I’ve ever been. I should be terrified, but I’m oddly calm. At almost thirty years old, I’ve been around long enough to know that something like this is rare and special, and I intend to treat it as such. “Let me up.”

  He releases me, and after a quick trip to the bathroom, I go into the other room to get ice from the freezer and the pain pills they gave him at the clinic. I bring them back with a glass of water. He’s right where I left him, facedown in bed, his muscular back on full display, along with the red scratches I left on his back. Those scratches fill me with satisfaction even as my body continues to quake with aftershocks. I want to lick him, bite him, scratch him. I’ve never had those thoughts about any man.

  But this isn’t just any man. I’m a little bit afraid of how powerful my feelings for him have become. It’s like being on a freight train with failing brakes that’s headed down a big hill. Even knowing I’m heading for an epic crash can’t stop me from jumping on that train and hoping for the best.

  “Ready for some ice?”

  He grunts in response and takes the pills I hand him, washing them down with a gulp of water.

  After stashing the glass on the bedside table, I put the makeshift ice pack on the back of his head and hold it in place while using my free hand to caress his back.

  “Feels good.”

  Long moments pass in silence as I hold the ice in place and continue to massage his back. He’s completely relaxed when my phone rings again.

  “Ugh, if I ignore that again, I won’t have a job.”

  He reaches up to take over with the ice pack. “Go ahead.”

  I run for my purse, which was dropped inside the door. I take the call right before it goes to voicemail. “Marcie. Hey.”

  “What the hell, Julianne? Why didn’t you answer when I called before?”

  “Did you call? It didn’t ring.” I wince at the lie. I’m the world’s worst liar. I absolutely suck at it, which is why I try to never do it. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted you to know that security is on the way. They’ll be working the main entrance of the hotel to help provide additional coverage there as well as the top floor where Captain West is staying.”

  I realize with a sinking feeling that the presence of security could put a damper on our extracurricular activities. “Okay.”

  “I gave them your number in case they have any questions. If they call, answer the phone, Julianne.”

  I wince at her tone. “I will.”

  “Also, you need to do something about the inquiries you’re getting regarding the captain. Everyone who is anyone is reaching out, and when they can’t get you, they’re calling here.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need additional support from the office?”

  I’ve never been more certain about anything. “Positive.”

  “One more thing… Victor Carlin wants him on his show.”

  “No.” I hate Carlin and his whole shock-jock persona. There’s no way I’m subjecting John to that guy.

  “I’m not asking, Julianne. I owe him a favor. I told him I’d make it happen.”

  “You shouldn’t h
ave told him that without consulting with us first.”

  The dead air that follows has my stomach twisting with nerves. I’ve never spoken to her that way before, and there’s no question that she doesn’t appreciate it.

  “Make it happen.”

  The line goes dead. No freaking way is he going on that show. I don’t care what Marcie promised him.

  “Everything okay?” John asks when I return to the bedroom after having a conversation with my boss while completely naked.

  “Victor Carlin wants you on his show.”

  “That’d be awesome. I loved to listen to him before the deployment. I got satellite radio just so I could get his show. I’d love to meet him.”

  I cringe and wrinkle my nose. “I knew there had to be something about you that I didn’t like.”

  He laughs. “You didn’t like me when we first met.”

  “That was so three weeks ago.”

  His smile makes my heart happy because I know he hasn’t had much to smile about in a long time. “Your boss wants me to do Carlin. I want to do Carlin. Sounds like you’re overruled, Poppy.”

  And when he calls me that… I die. I’m dead.

  “I’ll set it up, but don’t blame me for whatever happens.”

  “I never would. I’d be rocking and drooling in a corner without you to run interference for me.” He reaches for me and draws me back into bed with him, the ice bag abandoned to the floor.

  When he nuzzles my neck, I’m reduced to the consistency of Silly Putty. He could ask me for anything, and I’d give it to him. “You’re so sexy, Poppy. Your skin is like silk, and you smell so good. I want to stay in this bed with you for the rest of my life.”

  Every defense I might’ve had crumbles to dust. His words and the gentle, reverent movement of his hands ruin me. Yes, I want to say. Let’s stay in this bed for the rest of our lives. Let’s never leave this suite. Let’s be this way forever.

  If the last time was wild and untamed, this time is tender and sweet. It’s even more devastating, though, because of the way he looks at me as we make love. As he gazes deep into my eyes, I can’t get enough. I want him deeper. I want him so far inside me, he can’t ever leave. I want him in ways I never imagined possible, and when I think about how I might’ve married Andy and missed this, I feel ridiculously relieved.