With her body shaking, I can tell she’s having a hard time catching her breath. Regardless of this, I don’t dare pull away just yet. I need to feel her, to know that she’s real.
With her breath hot against my neck, she says, “Damn you! Don’t you ever leave me again!” Her muffled voice, while filled with apparent sobs, is forceful and demanding.
“Never,” I say as I increase my hold on her.
I want to kiss her, but her trembling body is clutched so tightly to mine, anyone around us would think we were one being rather than two. Not to mention the kiss I plan to give her is one I don’t dare offer in public while wearing my uniform.
Calming down a bit, she backs away and looks into my eyes, all while keeping her hands clutched possessively around my biceps. Her nails dig through the thick fabric of my uniform, and I welcome the sensation. It means she’s real. She’s really here in front of me.
Instead of leaning in for a kiss—which I must admit, I thought was going to be our next course of action—Libby backs away from me with what I can only describe as fear outlining her soft features.
All the loud sounds of the crowd and parade come barreling back to me, as if I’m being trampled by the goddamn band. She’s backing away from me and, for the life of me, I can’t imagine why.
With the grace only a mother can possess, Libby reaches out and takes the baby from her sister’s arms, giving it a light peck on its chubby cheek in the process. Without saying a word, she turns her back to me and begins to walk down a side street.
My dumb ass stands there, completely stunned and confused as to whether I should follow her or let her leave. It isn’t until Holly punches my chest and shoos me away, that I find my brains and begin to trail behind her.
As if time begins to move in slow motion, I watch her body sway back and forth with the weight of the baby in her arms and the large bag hanging from her shoulder. It doesn’t take long for me to notice she’s heading toward the park just a few blocks away, so I try to jog a few steps and position myself beside her as we walk. Nothing is being said... yet.
Walking in stride, I peek over at her and share the most charming smile I can manage. Regardless of how freaked out I am that she has a baby in her arms, I’m still so glad to see her beautiful face.
With labored breath, she nearly sprints to the damn park. She still hasn’t said anything, and I can’t help but feel like something important is about to spill from those beautiful lips.
As we enter the small park, which is more like a large patch of grass with trees and a few concrete benches, she finds a huge, shaded oak and heads for cover from the brutal July sun. Without saying a word, she looks to the ground around her before setting her gaze on me.
“Here,” she says as she holds the baby out toward me. “Hold him for a few while I spread a blanket out.”
“Ahh,” I mumble, hesitant to touch such a fragile-looking little thing. Realizing this must be a test of some sort, I accept the writhing little being and hold it out in front of me.
Then it happened.
Looking into the eyes of this little baby, I suddenly see my own reflection.
My blue eyes...
My crooked smile...
...and cute, curly red hair.
Chapter Seven
Liberty
God, I don’t know how I’m going to explain to this man he has a five-month-old baby boy. I just hope he’s not thinking I’m some sort of tramp who went and got pregnant while he was away.
No, this is my Maximus we’re talking about here. He knows me better than I know myself, regardless of the time and distance put between us over the past fourteen months.
Laying one of the receiving blankets out on the plush grass, I look up and notice Max is studying his son while still holding him at arm’s length. His fear of the unknown has my smile broadening involuntarily.
I don’t dare take the baby from him. Instead, I step close and gently guide his son closer to his chest.
“You can hold him. He won’t break,” I instruct as I place my hand on his forearm and support the baby’s back while he settles him in his arms. Being five months, he is old enough to hold his own, but I can tell Max is beyond worried he will break if held the wrong way.
“What’s his name?” he asks while staring deep into his son’s eyes.
“Well, I wanted him to have a piece of both of us,” I explain with a bit of a blush tinting my face. “So, I named him Maximus Liberato.”
Max’s head jerks to meet my stare, and the look on his face can only be described as one of shock. “Us?”
I nod. “Max, I’d like you to meet your son. He’ll be six months old soon.”
Max just stares, obviously stunned beyond belief. He no longer sways while holding his son. Instead, he just looks at me as if I have purple hair.
“I found out about two weeks after you left. I’m so—”
“My son?” he gasps, looking back and forth between the baby and me.
“Yes. I wanted so badly to tell you. He... ahh... he has your eyes,” I stammer in an attempt to make light of the elephant in the room.
“No shit. My son?”
“Yep. Maximus Liberato Becker.”
“You gave him my name?”
“Of course,” I say with a bit of a sigh. Passing my fingers through the baby’s unruly hair, I feel the need to add how important this man is to me. “He has a very strong daddy and therefore deserves a strong name.”
Searching his face to make sure he understands, I notice Max’s eyes begin to gloss over. Without warning, a light sob leaves his lips and immediately draws me to him.
Careful not to crush our son between us, I step to him, rise on my tippy toes, and press my forehead to his. With a tear trickling down his cheek, he crushes his lips to mine and then mutters, “He’s so beautiful. Just like you. Thank you.”
I just let him cry and bathe little Max in kisses. I know there’s no way he can make up for lost time, but watching him try is enough to make my heart swell like the Grinch on Christmas day.
All too soon, little Max starts fussing, and I can tell it startles Max a bit.
“What do I do? Is he okay?”
I laugh and reach for the baby. “Yeah, he’s fine. Just a little hungry. He hasn’t eaten much with all the festivities going on around him.” I watch Max carefully as I sit down in the grass with the baby and begin rummaging through the diaper bag. Understanding seems to cross his face, and then a flicker of joy consumes him, most likely indicating he has a brilliant idea.
“Can I feed him?” he asks with excitement while kneeling down in front of me.
“Well, I don’t think you have the right equipment,” I say with a smile as I strap the nursing bib around my neck and begin to lift my shirt.
“Oh,” he says, disappointed. Then he realizes what I mean. “Ohh,” he breathes.
Settling down in the grass beside me, Max hesitantly peeks over my shoulder before abruptly backing away, as if he’s worried I’ll get upset if he looks.
I can’t resist the chuckle that leaves my throat. “You can watch. I just keep this around me while in public. He’s surprisingly tolerant of it. If you put your head on my shoulder, you can look straight down at him.”
Hesitant at first, Max finally leans in and gazes down at his son. After a few moments of silence, he finally speaks. “I’m sorry I’m being such a fool. I’m just beyond shocked. I don’t know what to say or how to act.”
“I know. It’s okay. I wanted so badly to tell you.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through this on your own,” he says, surprising me with his remorseful tone. I almost begin to think he’s upset he came home to such a surprise before he finally continues, “But I can’t think of a better homecoming present than this.”
My tears brim to the surface again as I look over at him, and I can no longer hold back. “Oh, God, I’ve missed you,” I sob. Yeah, the same ugly cry that made its appearance when I first saw him co
mes back unwelcome. But this time, he seems more prepared to join me in my sob fest as he laces his fingers through my hair and presses our lips sloppily together.
“I love you so much, Libby. I didn’t think I could love someone more, but now... this?” he says as he gestures with his head toward our nursing son. “I just don’t have the words.”
“No words are necessary,” I affirm with a slight shake to my head. “Just hold me for a while. All I need is you right now.”
*****
Spending the rest of the afternoon catching up, I feel like I’m floating on air. It’s a wonderful feeling to have him by my side again.
We hit a bit of a bump when he spoke about his battle buddy, Kenz. The breakdown was inevitable as he told me about losing his best friend. I had no words worthy enough to console him. I only hoped my hugs were enough to let him know I’d always be there for him.
As dusk approaches, he asks, “Are they still setting off fireworks over the lake?”
“Yeah, but I think we should probably head home.” As soon as the words spill from my mouth, Max’s face drops in disappointment. Grabbing the center of his uniform more harshly than I probably should, I pull him to me and forcefully say, “You’re definitely coming home with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Chucking his uniform rules out of my mind, I pull him down further and crush my lips to his. Stars dance in my vision as I kiss him—truly kiss him—for the first time since he’s been home. This isn’t just a simple, closed-mouth kiss like before. This is a full-blown, mouth-watering, panty-drenching, fire-starting kiss.
Pulling away all too soon, he pants and says, “Your new place better be nearby.”
“Right around the corner,” I answer with a grin.
Taking the diaper bag from my shoulder, he gestures in front of us and says, “Lead the way... quickly.”
I begin to walk, but laugh at his impatience and say, “You know we still have to put him to sleep, right?”
“Yep, and I can’t wait to enjoy every minute I get to spend with him until his little eyes finally close.”
Chapter Eight
Maximus
She wasn’t kidding when she said her place was right around the corner. She managed to rent a house on the large lake located in the center of town. I bet we’ll be able to see the fireworks from her yard.
I know it sounds crazy, but as soon as I walk in, I feel like I’m home. Yes, it’s not my home necessarily, but with Libby and the baby near me, I feel this sudden, overwhelming sense of peace and serenity. I’ve spent way too long surrounded by people motivated by war and hatred. So, this small feeling of contentment makes me suddenly realize how homesick I’ve really been.
I’m not even three feet into the door when Henry comes running up to me like seeing me every day is a normal occurrence.
“Hey there, buddy,” I say as I kneel down for his wonderfully sloppy kisses. “Miss me that much, huh?”
“You know he’d slobber all over you even if you just saw him five minutes ago,” Libby says with a laugh.
“Yeah, but I sure missed these wet kisses,” I coo, allowing him to lick me a few more times before I get up and wipe his drool from my face with my sleeve.
I watch with fascination as Libby bathes and feeds little Max to get him ready for bed. The little dude is out like a light before he’s even done eating, and I can tell she’s very good at all this baby stuff.
She begins to lead me out of the room, and I suddenly panic. “We can’t just leave him alone in here, can we?” I whisper.
Holding up a little speaker box-looking thing, she smiles and says, “Don’t worry, we can hear him if he wakes up. The boy can sleep through anything though. These fireworks tonight probably won’t faze him in the slightest.”
Her confidence makes me feel a bit better as I follow her downstairs and into the kitchen to get a few beers. Fascinated by just the sight of her, I silently watch her body move as she bends over, pulls the bottles from the fridge, and pops the tops. The pressurized sound is loud amongst the silence between us, yet doesn’t seem to drown out the obvious sexual tension that’s beginning to build.
My eyes continue to take her in while she carries both beers back up the stairs and I trail behind. And what a glorious behind it is. I’m thankful she can’t see my devious smirk as I stare at her ass.
Walking through her bedroom, which I must say, smells divine, I watch her carefully as she stops at a set of French doors and looks back at me. Setting both beers down on a nearby table, she says, “You’re going to love this.”
The sudden excitement in her eyes captures me. Opening the set of doors, she steps to the side and reveals what the sheer drapes had obscured moments before. I cautiously step beyond the threshold, worried my sudden movements will somehow make the sight before me disappear like a mirage.
Standing upon a spacious, two-story deck, the scene beyond the wrought-iron railings is breathtaking. The moon is sitting high in the sky, causing sprinkles of light to glitter the surface of the lake. Various other neighbors, along with their children, play along the banks of the lake, sparklers in hand. A live band plays in the distance from the city’s public beach party. Even though we feel secluded up on her private deck, we can still see the whole town as they gather along the banks and wait for the community fireworks show.
Taking a deep breath, I allow myself to enjoy the humid summer night air, thankful my lungs are no longer becoming clogged with the rough, sandy atmosphere I lived in for so long. Without realizing it, I make my way to the edge of the patio, my free hand gripping the railing as if my life depends on it.
I’m beyond grateful Libby kept some of my clothes over the past year. Changing out of my uniform has me feeling somewhat normal again, like I am finally settling down in a comfy chair after a really, really long day of work.
A soft touch against my shoulder makes me jump before I realize it’s just Libby—my Liberty.
“Sorry,” she says, backing away. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t be sorry, love,” I soothe. Turning my back to the lake, I hold my hand out to her and make it obvious I want to feel her touch on me again. “C’mere.”
Instead of easing her way toward me and slowly enclosing her hand in mine, Libby barrels into me, nearly knocking me back into the railing. Warmth spreads through my soul with the feel of her arms around my waist and her face pressed to my chest.
“You okay?” she asks, her voice muffled against my shirt. Her question catches me off guard until she begins to explain herself. “I’ve never known you to be so skittish.”
Kissing the top of her head, I try to find the words to explain how fucked up my mind is, even subconsciously. “I just... I haven’t felt your touch in so long. So, I’m just not used to anyone... ahh... touching me, I guess. I’d like to say it’s like riding a bicycle, but my mind isn’t quite processing things... well. It’s really hard to explain. I’ll be fine though. I’m definitely fine now that I’m here with you.” I finish off my rambling with another peck to the top of her head, pressing my lips into her hair and lingering there for a while, relishing the fruity smell.
Looking up at me while keeping her arms wrapped around my waist, she grins and says, “I understand. Which is why I’m not going to let you go until you’re used to being near me again.”
“That sounds like a great plan.” I can’t help but smile at this beautiful woman. Her breath tickles my lips with her close proximity—taunting me—daring me to close the distance. She’s like a delicacy, and I’ve been starved for way too long.
With the need to taste her, I gently wrap my fingers behind her head and bring her lips to mine, touching them ever so slightly together.
Just as our tongues touch, a damn firecracker booms above us, causing us both to jump with surprise and pull away. If it weren’t for the adorable smile on her face, my frustration would’ve been more obvious. But instead, my attention is brought to those luscious lips, her t
eeth lightly grazing the pink flesh—deliciously tormenting me.
My palpable impatience makes her grin while we stand staring each other down. She knows just what she is doing to me—and fuck if that isn’t hot as hell. Her teasing act really has me wrapped around her cute little finger, and I am just aching to be wrapped around her entire body soon.
The electricity between us is tangible with pent-up frustration. Apparently feeling more confident now that we are used to the loud noises, she slowly inches closer.
Pressing her front to mine, she wraps her arms around my large frame again and trails her way up my back. The feel of her fingers caressing each contour of my muscular build through my shirt has me trembling with desire.
She will soon find out just how much I want her.
Chapter Nine
Liberty
Nuzzling my face in the crook of his neck, I inhale, filling my nose with his scent. Boldly, I let my hands creep beneath his shirt and begin to lift the soft fabric from his skin. I can feel every ridge of his taut abdomen as my fingers glide over his warm body. As if instructed to, Max reaches behind his neck and starts pulling his shirt over his head in that delicious way men do. Flinging the fabric into the opening of the doorway, he turns to face me, causing his dog tags to lightly clank against his chiseled chest.
Tracing the chain around his neck with my eyes, I notice several scars covering his left shoulder. He tenses beneath my gaze, as if my eyes have silently insulted him. Without even thinking, I trace my fingers along the raised skin. Gouges and scar tissue litter the left side of his shoulder and arm—disappearing around his back. I continue my feathered assault along his marred skin, studying the injuries like they are a work of art.
“I... it’s not—” he stutters, obviously self-conscious of his heroic war wounds.
“Shh,” I lightly shush, letting him know he doesn’t need to explain right now.
Feeling an overwhelming need to let him know he’s still beautiful, I slowly move closer and begin caressing his skin with my lips. His muscles shudder beneath me each time my mouth comes in contact with his now-healed injuries.
Red Hot and BOOM! A Sizzling Hot Collection of Stories from the Red Hot Authors Page 11
