His fingers interlaced with mine and he pinned them over my head. His pace quickened, and I could feel myself desperately trying to hold on to the cliff, hold on and ride the waves of ecstasy. He released my hands, and I clutched the sheets as he ground deep inside me, pressing flat against my belly, giving me the direct stimulation I craved. I dug my fingers into his ass, and he pounded into me. Our release came crashing down around us, and I savored every second as our bodies drowned together in a sea of satisfaction.
This man loved his fellow Marines, was willing to give his life for them. He was capable of loving someone more than he loved himself. I wondered what it would be like to be loved by such a man.
But my heart was restless. Soon our world would change, our time out here would be over. No matter how much we wanted to, we would never be able to return to the innocence of this moment.
Grady
I stood up, grabbed my pillow, and placed it on the sofa, ready to sleep alone when she grabbed my arm.
Her eyes pleaded with me. “Can I spend the night with you? I really want to try to make this work.”
Of course I wanted her to sleep with me, to fuck her sweet pussy every night, though I wasn’t sure if that emotional performance she just gave was nothing more than a combination of an apology for her ex-partner insulting me and pity after witnessing my flashback. At this point I didn’t care what her motivations were—I just wanted her near me.
“Sure. Just promise me you’ll wake me if I scream in my sleep.” I tossed my pillow back on the bed and climbed under the covers with her. “I’m glad you begged me to let your dad write my book. I honestly would’ve never done it. And I’m actually looking forward to saving up some money. The VA sucks and who knows if I’ll be able to hold down a job. And I’ll get to tell my side of the story in the book.”
She rolled on top of me, staring into my eye. “The book will be amazing. Get some!”
I kissed her forehead, appreciative of her Marine Corps “get some” reference, as if she was trying to relate to me.
In my post-coital haze, I decided to put myself out there even more. It had gone well so far. No more games. From here on out, I wanted her to know she’s mine.
“For the ball, I don’t want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
“Oh?”
I lifted up her hand and kissed it. “I want you to be my girlfriend.” Once the words left my mouth, I knew I had made the right decision asking her. Since I’d left the hospital, I’d stopped making plans for the future. I wanted to look forward to my life—with Isa in it.
A big smile spread across her face, and her eyes sparkled.
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, a shot of adrenaline reinvigorating me.
She pursed her lips like she was thinking. “Grady, since this is a ball, do you know how to dance?”
“Nope. Never learned.”
“Well, can I teach you? Just two dances. Maybe a foxtrot and a rumba? I really had a great time dancing last night.”
Hell no. “Nope, not going to happen. Most Marines just end up screwing around, you might see them dancing to ‘YMCA’ or the electric slide, but no one really dances.”
“I get that. But I mean the President will be there. You’re the guest of honor. And once the press finds out you’re going with me, they’re going to expect something. Especially since we’re dating.”
I tensed up my shoulders. Writing a book was one thing—I wasn’t going to learn how to dance. “No. It would be like a gateway drug. Next thing you know I’d be on Dancing under the Stars.”
“Ha!” she laughed. “It’s fine. Just thought it would be fun.”
She cuddled onto my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her. She fit perfectly. For the first time since I’d met her, I felt like there was a possibility that she could truly need me.
“Fine, two dances, that’s it. I’m not wearing those weird shoes with heels. And don’t get any crazy ideas about waxing my chest and stuffing me in a rhinestone onesie.”
She giggled. “You’re hilarious Grady. Okay—it’s a deal.”
Damn, this woman had me whipped already.
Grady
The next morning we left the campsite and headed back to the cabin. We had a few more days here before we would return to the real world.
In the daylight, I was filled with embarrassment that she’d seen me have another flashback. She’d been understanding and comforting, but I was worried that the novelty would wear off and she wouldn’t be able to deal with my issues long term.
We arrived back home and we milled around the cabin in silence. I needed to know why she’d snapped at me earlier in the week when I asked about her mother’s death.
I went to the kitchen and poured her a mug of coffee. After a few minutes, she sat at the table with me.
“So what happened to your mom?”
She looked away from me, her face turning red. “She died. End of story.”
I didn’t have a clue how to read women. Men were direct. If a dude had a problem with someone, he’d kick his ass, share a beer later when it was resolved. I hated playing the guessing game with this girl. “Cut the bullshit. You say you want to get to know me, but you’re being secretive. I absolutely can’t stand liars. You lied to me about where I’d seen you before, and you snapped at me when I asked about your mom. Just please be honest with me.”
Her hand was shaking. “It doesn’t matter how she died—it only matters that she is dead.”
I would get this girl to open up to me. I put my arm around her, her petite body fitting perfectly on my chest. “Babe, you have to trust me.”
She just looked away from me. For the first time it occurred to me that she might be in as much pain as I was. I had nothing left to lose—I’d lost my best friend, my career, I’d almost lost my life—twice. Once from a grenade, and another time from my own hands. I would lay my heart open for her sake.
I raised her chin with my thumb. “Fine, I’ll go first. I need to thank you for taking that bullet out of my gun. A few days after we met, I found out I was getting kicked out of the Corps. It was really dark for me. I’m in so much fucking pain all the time, I miss my buddy who died in the attack. I felt worthless. So I tried to end it. You’re the reason I’m standing here today. So, thank you.”
She gripped the sides of her head, as if she was covering her ears. “Oh my God, Grady. I’m so sorry you were suffering, and I’m so grateful I took that bullet. Suicide is never the answer. You’re such an amazing man. Your life is so valuable.”
I didn’t want to hear her fake platitudes. She didn’t know anything about the true darkness that lurked within me. “I’m fine now. Don’t worry about me. Now it’s your turn.”
She pulled her knees to her chest, her voice choked with tears. “My mom. She wasn’t murdered. She killed herself. I was the one who found her, her brains splattered everywhere.”
Bile rose in my throat. So that was what she was hiding from me. And my dumbass had just told her I’d attempted suicide. She’d never want to continue this relationship with me. I was just like her mom. “Man, I’m sorry.”
“I couldn’t deal with life, the press asking questions about my mom, so I quit the show, hoping the truth wouldn’t get out. The tabloids printed crazy rumors that I had some drug problem and that I went to rehab. To this day, I don’t know where that rumor started. So that’s why I took your bullet. You . . .” Her eyes were teary. “You remind me of her.”
Fuck.
I looked in her green eyes, really looked at her, and allowed her to look at me. I didn’t turn my head when she stared at my face. If a woman this beautiful could stand the sight of me, if she stood by my side, maybe I could face the world again.
Maybe not.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in pain. The skin grafts are brutal. And my brain is fucked up. I have triggers, and I can’t control myself. If I see something that reminds me of that night, I lose it. You’ve seen me.”
“It’s hard, I know. Just take your time.” She put her hand on my thigh and pursed her lips. “I wish I’d never run out the night we met. I was scared. And the truth is, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About that night.”
Her soft touch immediately invigorated me. “Me either, baby.”
I reached around her waist and pulled her closer to me. A lock of hair fell in her face and I brushed it back. She looked up at me through her long, black eyelashes, and I couldn’t resist a second longer. My lips covered hers, and her warm, sweet tongue danced in my mouth.
Last time I fucked her with the faint hope that it might lead to something more. Tonight, I would fuck her, praying that it would last forever. I could keep her safe, I could love her.
Her delicate hands rubbed the back of my neck as we kissed. We didn’t rush our lips. I had some time alone with this girl—I could take all the time I wanted.
Her fingernails scraped my scarred skin, and the sensation sent chills through my body. She lightly kissed my neck, then she nibbled on the nub where my ear used to be. I resisted the urge to shove her mouth away, not wanting her to be disgusted by me. But her lips found a way back to my tortured flesh, and the comfort of her kisses was more soothing than any creams that I had ever applied to my wounds.
My hands gripped her tiny waist. I loved her curvy hips, her round ass. She was perfection. I wanted to pleasure her, worship her, show her that I could be the man to protect her from anyone. If only she’d let me.
She lifted off my shirt, her eyes widening at the sight of my chest. I undressed her beautiful body, slowly, savoring the unveiling of her flesh. The previous times we’d had sex had been laced with lust. Tonight, I wanted to make love to her.
I had nothing left to say. Scooping her in my arms, I carried her into the bedroom. Her eyes widened, and she bit her bottom lip. I’d fantasized about this very moment for the past few weeks, and I was in no rush.
I placed her on my bed and we knelt facing each other. My hand pushed her hair back, and I planted a kiss on her neck. Her skin was so soft and tan. Her lips parted and my mouth took hers, indulging in every sensation of her hot tongue probing my mouth. These kisses were so much better than yesterday’s kisses, which were shortly after my PTSD attack, when I was so afraid of losing her.
I was afraid of nothing now.
I cradled her head and urged her closer to me, pressing her clothed body against mine. She kissed my face tenderly as she began to undress me. I removed her white tank top and kissed her cleavage. Her head dropped back and she gave out a sweet sigh. My hand unhooked her bra and then teased her nipples with my fingers, pinching and tugging until her face was flush with pleasure.
“Grady, you’re torturing me.”
I grinned. Taking her buds, I sucked on one while my hand squeezed the other. She moaned causing a jolt of pressure to my already hard cock.
Her hands dug into my shoulders and she began kissing my chest, licking my nipples, straddling my waist. I was so desperate to be inside her.
She undid my belt and removed my shorts as I pulled down her sweatpants. She was wearing a mesh lace thong. I teased her with my tongue, tasting her sweet wetness. When I couldn’t resist anymore, I pushed her panties down and devoured her pussy.
She writhed on the bed, gasping, moaning, every sound making me want her more. I could eat her pussy for days, forever.
I grabbed a condom from my nightstand, pulled off my boxers, turned her over, and climbed on top of her. Her round ass mesmerized me. I took off her thong and wrapped my arm around her.
“Ready for me?” I whispered into her ear.
“Yes, baby.”
I grabbed my cock in my hand and slid into her warm pussy.
The softness of her ass as I pressed deeper heightened my desire. She moved in sync with my thrusts. I rubbed her clit until she was moaning, almost gasping for air. I could feel her pussy clench tight around my cock and I was desperate to release. I pumped faster, harder, deeper, out of my mind in pleasure. She let out a long cry and I came with her.
We collapsed onto the bed, my mind completely blank. I was about to get up when she turned toward me and cupped my face.
We lay in silence and I listened to the pattering of rain falling on the roof.
“Grady, I need to tell you something.”
Great, here it goes. I already knew what she was going to say, “I care for you but this isn’t going to work”—the usual line of bullshit. I was ready. Bracing myself, I asked, “What?”
“I love you.”
Isa
I told Grady I loved him. And he hadn’t said it back.
But I wasn’t freaking out yet. He’d asked me to be his girlfriend—he’d opened up to me about his depression.
Though honestly, knowing that he had been suicidal filled my heart with more fear than love.
Grady gave me a wicked smile the next day and told me he had the perfect plan for us. I reluctantly agreed—even though I hated surprises.
Grady and I sat in his truck in silence as we drove on the freeway. This entire setup felt so surreal. I wanted a crystal ball so I could read our future. I wanted assurance that we could make some type of relationship work. I had never navigated an adult relationship and I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. The tension hung thick in the air, and even the view of the beautiful mountains did little to ease my nerves.
We pulled off a dirt road, and I saw a sign: “Shooting & Safety.”
“You’re taking me to a gun range?”
“Yup. Since you’re an expert and all at disarming weapons.”
I shuddered. “You’re kidding me. I hate guns. I told you my mom shot herself. Not to mention you confessed to me that you tried to shoot yourself. Nope, not going to happen.”
He placed his hand on my thigh and looked at me. “You don’t have to shoot, and if you want to, we’ll leave. But you’re the one always talking about therapy. One of the methods I was taught was to desensitize yourself from the experience. This is a safe place. I want you to take back the power.”
“And this from the guy who claims that therapy doesn’t work.”
“I was blown up by a grenade. I can’t really do that again to desensitize myself. But I’m working on other ways to deal with it. Talking to you helps. So does fucking you.”
“Funny.” I exhaled, happy he could admit that keeping his feelings bottled up was futile.
As we pulled up to the shooting range, my fingers tingled and it wasn’t from the cold. I’d been raised shooting with my dad, but after my mom killed herself with his gun, I’d never had a desire to be anywhere near a weapon, though I had made an exception when I stole Grady’s bullet.
“Wait here.” Grady walked around the truck and opened my door. Swoon. He hoisted me out of the truck.
Once inside the building, he introduced himself to the range owner.
The older gentleman shook his hand. “Sergeant Williams, I assure you that you do not need an introduction. It’s an honor to meet you. Thank you for your service.”
Grady posed for a few pictures, and I realized that in this environment he was a celebrity. This man was in awe of Grady.
The man placed his arm around me, in a fatherly hug. “Well, ma’am, you’re a lucky young lady to have a man like Grady Williams by your side.”
The fear pulsed through my veins as the owner pulled me aside to ask if I’d ever shot before.
“Yes, sir, I have but it was years ago. I’ll be honest, I’m pretty scared.”
“Well, you couldn’t have a better teacher. Grady’s a legend.”
We were led into the shooting area that kind of resembled a really secure bowling alley, long lanes separated by partitions. Grady fitted me with goggles and ear protectors, then his face turned serious. “Okay, Isa. We have some safety rules. First rule, treat every weapon as if it were loaded. Second, never point a weapon at anything you do not intend to shoot. Third, keep your weapon on safety until you’re re
ady to fire. I will walk you through each step. Now, carefully pick up the pistol.”
I hesitated to grab the gun, my heart beating rapidly. Grady had brought his own pistol, a matte camouflaged-colored piece of death, which he informed me was a Colt M45.
What had my mom felt before she retrieved my father’s gun from the safe? Why had he given her the code? Did she think of me before she blew her brains out?
I choked back tears.
Grady leaned into me. “You okay, baby? You don’t have to do this.”
I swallowed hard. “No, I’m fine. I want to.”
Picking up the gun with my right hand, the cold metal imprinted on my palm. It felt heavy, its deadly steel haunting in my hands. I shivered; I didn’t know if I could go through with this. I made sure to keep pointing the gun down range as I drew in a shaky breath.
“Good, baby. Now load the magazine.”
With my left hand, I loaded the magazine, careful to not pinch my fingers.
“Great job. Your stance is good, keep your legs parallel, arm extended. You will feel recoil when you shoot. Let it happen. Don’t tense up, and keep your weapon pointed in a safe direction.”
He wrapped his arms around me, his hands steady, his hard body pressed into mine. He took the weapon and adjusted my hands around it, his hands around my own, as if he was protecting me from the gun.
“You got this, babe. Now just aim and fire. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
The target was one of those paper bodies with a red heart. My hand slowly pulled back the trigger, and I fired and let out a yelp. The recoil surprised me, but Grady held me firmly in his grasp. A huge wave of relief swept over me.
“Good job, baby. Keep going.”
I pressed the trigger again, this time more confident. Bam, bam, bam, bam. Electricity pulsed through my veins; my heart beat fiercely. I felt alive, in control, strong, and powerful.
As I rode this new high, I placed the weapon down, relieved to relinquish its weight, both physical and emotional.
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