She looks down, pushing her body up and off me with both of her hands on my chest. Her breasts rise and fall with deep breaths, and she stares into my eyes, a small smile playing on her face. My arms are wrapped around her waist, and as I move a hand to cup her ass, her eyes widen. Lust clouds her eyes, and I let the beast that’s been clawing to get to her out. I crush my lips against hers and love the feeling as she moans into my mouth.
I roll over and pin her under me, caging her in, never breaking our kiss.
“We can’t,” she breathes into the hot air between us, but I’m not listening. I kiss along her jaw and then down her neck as my fingers work to unbutton her pants. I’ve wanted her for so long. “The sun's still up, Aaron.”
Don’t do it, man. You’ll regret it. I pause as the words run through my mind. I peer down into her eyes and guilt threatens to overcome my lust. Such sweet innocence. I really shouldn’t be doing this. If we get caught, I could ruin her. I could ruin myself. I should get up and leave.
But the look in her eyes says it all. She wants me. All of me. Right fucking now.
I groan. I can’t take it anymore. Sometimes, the best things come with risk. “I fucking want you, Lindsey.” I tear at her clothes until she’s bared to me. My breathing comes in shallow pants as I look down at her flushed skin and her beautiful, curvy body.
“I want you too,” she whispers. Her eyes are full of vulnerability.
This is forbidden. We’re not supposed to be doing this. We're not supposed to be seeing each other, we're not supposed to be having sex, and we sure as fuck aren't supposed to be feeling for each other the way I do right now.
But as I gaze into her eyes and see nothing but desire back, I’ve already made up my mind.
Her needs are not only mine to fulfill. They’re my duty.
* * *
The sweat is dripping off my face, the spring warmth bouncing off the blacktop to suck the energy from my body. Why the hell did I sign up for a half-Ironman anyway?
Actually, that's not a fair question. All the work I've done on the bike since meeting Lindsey has more than paid off, and I've been flying on the bike for weeks now. And the day started off nice and cool.
But it was during the bike that the sun came out, and to be honest, I can't do anything about that. West Point is in the Hudson Highlands, where summers are certainly hot, but winter grabs hold in December and hangs on like a motherfucker until late March. When I left West Point, the average high was only seventy degrees during the day, and it was a dry seventy at that.
But this triathlon is in Virginia. The Army likes us to do it here because the team can stay on the nearby military base for housing the three days of the event. On the other hand, Virginia is at sea level, and it’s a hell of a lot hotter and more humid than New York. It wasn't too bad at the beginning. We started at seven in the morning, and the sky was a bit overcast, but now, the sun's out, and I'm struggling.
“You can do it!” some fan yells, and I glance over, seeing that it's a soldier. The military sponsors this event, and the winner of the pro group gets their ticket paid to the full Ironman qualifiers in California in September. So, a lot of the fans and the volunteers are military. In fact, I'm busting my ass right now to try and stay ahead of a guy from the Air Force Academy. I've already been passed by three people from Navy. They're on their home turf and know this course perfectly, but I'm not going to get passed by the goddamn Zoomie.
My feet are aching, and my knees feel like someone's shoving hot pokers into the backs of them with every step, but I still give the soldier a half-nod and a little wave and try to pick up the pace. With only a mile to go, I just have to suck it up for eight more minutes.
I round the curve at the bottom of the last hill, my lungs crying out. The air here is thick, heavy, wet soup, and I look up at the half-mile hill, my heart quivering in my chest. It looks like a heart attack waiting to happen, with my name written about every fifteen feet saying, 'die here.'
Suddenly, I hear a voice in the crowd, and I'm shocked. “Push, Aaron! Beat the Zoomie!”
Lindsey's here? How did she . . . it doesn't matter. Her smile and pumping fist drive me, and I find the energy deep within me to push harder into the pavement. I drive hard, lifting my knees as much as I can muster in the effort to accelerate. I hear the Zoomie trying to kick past me. He's a better runner than I am for sure, and it's been thirteen miles of him whittling away at the lead I had from the swim and the bike. That high-altitude training helps his lungs more than the heat is hurting us both.
But Lindsey's cheering pushes me, and I go hard. It's not a lot, but his rate of catching up slows. As I cross the line, I'm three steps ahead of him, and I stagger, dropping to the pavement and scraping my knees on the blacktop. Someone, I don't know who, helps me up, leading me over to the grass, where they've laid down a sheet. They make me stretch out, covering my body with cool, damp sheets. It takes me a while. The world is swimming, but when medic comes around, he says that I don't need an IV or anything like that.
“Nice run, Aaron,” Captain White, who's been helping everyone as they cross the finish line, says about fifteen minutes later when I can actually think, handing me a cup of lukewarm sports drink. Not all that refreshing, but I know if it had been cold, I'd probably have puked it out. “Sip. I didn't think you'd beat the guy. What happened?”
I nearly let my secret spill out, but I shake my head. “Just a fan cheering me on. She was cute.”
“Never underestimate the power of cadets to be motivated by their hormones,” our female tri-team member, Hayley, says with a laugh. She got hurt and had to pull out a week ago, but she's still here helping us all out. She's a trooper. “You put a girl in a thong on a motorcycle, and Simpson there sets a record on his bike. He was pretty close to doing it as it was.”
“Thanks,” I gasp, wiping my face with the wet towel and enjoying the coolness. “The focus paid off.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Hayley says before leaving to help one of our plebes who tried to push through today but dropped out at some point. He's done well on the shorter stuff this year, but he's not ready for this distance. Still, he gave it a good effort before falling apart on the run.
I lie down, looking around to see if Lindsey approaches the group, but she doesn't come any closer, staying just a face in the crowd across the rest area. I give her a smile when she waves a little, anonymous enough that nobody notices.
Since learning that she's an enlisted, our ranks have been the only clouds that have hung between us.
Still, it'd be nice to be able to not worry if someone sees us. That's why I'm looking forward to next month. After the firsties graduate and the Corps goes on summer break, I've got a week off before I start my summer training. Lindsey and I have already agreed to go to NYC together again. We're going to celebrate her promotion. She's getting bumped up to Specialist in June, and more importantly, I'm going to enjoy the fact that we can be ourselves.
I lean back and let my mind drift to the wonderful fantasy that is next month's trip to New York. I can stop being Cadet Aaron Simpson, but just Aaron, and I'll have Lindsey with me.
* * *
“So you got the summer assignments you wanted?” Lindsey asks as we roll down the Palisades Parkway. “Sure you're not going to miss the bike?”
“Yeah, that's going to suck. My tailbone's just begging to get pounded into submission some more,” I say with a laugh, sighing happily as I sink into the seat of her old Honda. Since the triathlon, I've enjoyed the luxury of being half lazy. I haven't set foot in a pool or run a single mile since then, only biking with Lindsey on casual, relaxed rides. We've slept together twice during those rides, always on a Saturday or Sunday ride when we can take hours, going five or six miles off post to a private spot in the woods and enjoying taking our time. “But Airborne School looks good. The wings are a nice little perk to have. And I'll get to do Beast Two, which puts me in line for a good position next year.”
“So you're real
ly committed?” Lindsey asks, and I hear a bit of sadness in her voice. I wonder why, but then she smiles. “It's going to be lonely without you.”
I smile and reach over, putting my hand on her leg. “It's going to suck not having you around. I know it cost me a few tests, but I still pulled a solid B this semester. Not quite Dean's List, but close enough that I'm not worried. Besides, you give me something more important than some Honor Roll gold wreath on my class shirt. You give me purpose.”
Lindsey blinks, and I see a shine in her eyes before she turns her head back toward the road. I yawn. I was up late last night helping some of the graduating firsties clean out their stuff and make sure they were ready for graduation today, and I'm tired. “It's okay, close your eyes,” Lindsey says with a little chuckle. “I understand. Grab some rack, and I'll wake you up when we get to the city.”
I nod and close my eyes, letting Lindsey choose the music as we drive down. I know I doze off some, but I'm awake again when she turns off Hot 97 and touches my knee. “We're here.”
The hotel is close to Central Park, and both of us agreed to splurge on it, splitting the tab between us. Thankfully, I've been tight fisted since our last trip, and I've got some money. Lindsey's told me that I don't need to pay for anything, but still, the only big purchase I've made in the past few months is in my duffel bag that has all my uniforms for Airborne School. After this weekend, I'm going to fly back home to Michigan for a few days to see my parents before the Army pays for my trip down to Georgia. When I get back to West Point, I’ll be a squad leader, and I’ll have two months of pay sitting around with nothing to spend it on except Lindsey.
Lindsey and I check in, and our room is up on the third floor, just high enough that I can see the hints of some of the stuff in the distance. “So what would you like to do?” I ask, setting my bag down. “It's a bit early for dinner.”
“How about Central Park?” Lindsey asks. “It's only a half-mile away, not that bad of a walk. I've never been to the Met. You up for some art?”
We head out, getting to the museum just as a big clock nearby rings out five o'clock. “Glad we came on a Saturday then,” Lindsey remarks as we look at the hours of operation. “We've still got hours to enjoy it.”
As we wind our way through the collections, I'm caught breathless time and time again as we encounter works of artwork that stun us both, leaving us amazed. “I've never seen anything so beautiful,” Lindsey whispers as we look at an authentic Ming vase from China. “Have you?”
“I've seen something nearly every day for the past few months that beats it,” I tell her, reaching up and stroking her hair. Lindsey blushes and blinks before taking a deep breath, looking at me.
“Aaron,” she whispers, touching my cheek. There's pain and something else in her eyes, and I’m confused. “Aaron . . . I'm so sorry.”
“Why?” I ask, confused. “I know this isn't the ideal time, but what’s the problem? Aren’t we in lo—”
“No,” Lindsey half-strangles, putting her fingers on my lips. “No, don't say it. This is hard enough as it is.”
Lindsey turns and leaves the museum, leaving me stunned for a moment. I watch her nearly run from the room before I follow, finally catching up with her on the walkway outside, the one that leads deeper to Central Park. She's crying, but I just don’t understand why. I step in front of her and wrap my arms around her, trying to offer what comfort I can.
“Lindsey,” I whisper in her ear as she cries, “I don't know what's wrong. I don't know why you're sad. This is the best weekend I've had in months. What’s bothering you?”
Lindsey sniffles and wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “It hurts, Aaron. I didn't say anything because it hurts too much.”
“What does?” I ask, stroking her golden hair. “That we're going to be apart for the summer? It’ll be okay. It’s what, eight, nine weeks at most? That first chance we get to spend some time together, we're probably going to have to be careful we don't start making out in the middle of Buff Soldier Field.”
Lindsey shakes her head, stepping back. “There won't be eight or nine weeks from now, Aaron. This . . . this weekend is it for us.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, even more confused. “Are you . . . what happened?”
Lindsey wipes at her eyes and touches her jeans pocket. “You're going to Benning . . . and yesterday, my orders came in. Come my June promotion, the Army's decided that there are too many Specialists in the S-1 shop. I'm being sent to Fort Lewis, Washington.”
I swallow, understanding. Transferred across the country, to a real unit. No more bike rides together, no more walks, nothing. “But . . . we can do a long-distance thing, can't we?”
“How?” Lindsey asks, crying and smiling in agony at the same time. “How am I supposed to be able to write you? You know the damn Goldcoats read your email. They snoop the system all the time. They keep you guys on a tight leash, Aaron. We've been pushing our luck as it is. So, we can't see each other. We can't talk.”
“But . . .” I whisper, reaching into my pocket and taking out the box that's been poking me since we left the hotel. “I got this for you, just because . . .”
I hold the box out, and Lindsey opens it, blinking at the necklace that's inside. It's not much, I know that, but it was all I could afford. “Aaron . . .”
“Lindsey, I'm not saying that this is good news. But it’s not the end either. And if it is, don’t you want to make it a weekend to remember?”
She nods, and I take the necklace out of its case, unfastening it and putting it around her neck. It lays on her blouse, the same color of her hair, glowing mellowly in the late afternoon sunlight. “I made sure to buy it thin enough that you can wear it in Class Bs or in ACUs.”
Lindsey fingers it, then smiles. “It's beautiful,” she says softly, then looks at me. “Thank you. It’s the first gift a boyfriend's ever given to me.”
I hold out my hand, and we entwine our fingers. “Let’s not let any news ruin this weekend.”
We walk through the park, sharing some hotdogs from a vendor on a bench as the sun goes down. I know that they say Central Park's not as safe after dark, but it doesn't matter, and as we walk back to the hotel, a sense of fate overtakes me. Going up to our room, Lindsey goes quiet again, and as the door closes, she walks to the bed, unbuttoning her jeans. “Come here, Aaron.”
“Lindsey, I didn't mean to pressure you,” I start, but she ignores me, pushing her jeans off and letting them fall to the floor. She's wearing just a satin thong underneath, and my words dry up as she unbuttons her blouse to reveal the matching bra underneath.
“I bought these two weeks ago, ordered them off the Internet,” she says, shrugging off her blouse and revealing the wine-colored lingerie fully to me. She's angelic, seductive, but I want nothing more than to rip those things off. “I didn't know then. I wanted to wear this because I wanted to tell you something. But I can't say those words. I'm not strong enough. It hurts too damn much to say them right now.”
“Then why are we giving up?” I ask, and she comes over, unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it off my chest, kissing my collarbones as she does. “Why?”
“Because you're going to be an officer,” Lindsey whispers, kissing lower on my chest. She licks my left nipple, making me moan in fear and arousal. I know what she's doing, and as much as my body yearns for it, what she is saying is at the forefront of my mind. “You're going to be a fine leader, a man who can be the sort of platoon leader that soldiers will follow into some silly battle because they know that you're going to pull them out of the shit when they need it. Because you're going to be the sort of officer the Army needs.”
Lindsey gets down on her knees, kissing my stomach and smiling when she rubs my cock through my jeans. “I'm going to miss this,” she whispers, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling my cock out of my underpants. She wraps her fingers around my shaft, pumping me slowly. “We both have our duties, Aaron. I've still got years left. I signed up for a
long hitch to get my GI Bill and my college loans paid off. You get commissioned, and I'm still in service. But take this with you. You will always be in my heart, and I will always be in yours, supporting you.”
Before I can answer, she licks the head of my cock, sucking it into her mouth slowly, swallowing me until her nose is pressed against the hairs at the base. She draws me out carefully, letting her tongue wrap devilishly around my shaft and around the rim of the head, my body surging despite the heart breaking inside me. She pulls her lips off and looks up at me. “Let me give you this gift. These memories. For one more night, be the man of my dreams.”
I nod, stroking her hair as she swallows me again, and my fingers wrap through her hair, tightening slightly as she sends waves through my body. I hold her head gently, keeping her still as I begin to pump my cock in and out of her eager, loving mouth. Lindsey tugs lightly on my balls, not painful but keeping me from going too fast, guiding me higher and higher.
I give her everything. If this is the last night, if this is the last time, then I'm going to show her with my body what I can't tell her with my mouth. I love you, Lindsey. Can you feel it? The wave of pleasure that's building inside my belly, the explosion that's threatening inside me—that's for you.
I swell, and Lindsey hums around my cock, pushing me over the edge. I groan deeply, spurting thick and hard, filling her mouth. She takes it all, making sure to get every last drop before swallowing and looking up at me with a smile, waiting for me to react. I don’t hesitate, and I pull her up, taking her mouth and kissing her hard. Our tongues wrap around each other, and I’m not grossed out in the slightest. Eventually, I let her go, and she looks at me for a second, then smiles. “Why?”
“Because you asked for me to be the man of your dreams for one more night. I'm not afraid, and I want to share everything with you. We won't say that word, but I'm never going to be the same after this weekend. And I want to show you how much you mean to me.”
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