by Kara Hart
“I never got them,” I find myself saying. His hands wrap around my waist and he holds me tight. He gives a faint nod of understanding and then pulls me in close to him. He pushes my back against the mattress and looks at me longingly.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he whispers. “Forgive me for doing this.” Suddenly, I’m pressed up against his body. I wrap my arms around his neck and he kisses me like he’s been dreaming of this for years. My dress falls back, above my thighs. He runs his hand against the stitching of my black panties and slides his tongue through my lips, against my own.
A new energy releases inside of me. I can feel myself soak the fabric and he moans loudly when he runs his fingers over the wet spot. “God, I’ve missed this,” he says to himself, biting my lower lip.
“So have I,” I flip him over and suddenly, I’m straddling his jeans. We’re sloppy and uncontrollable at this point and I’m fumbling at his belt because I need this. I haven’t felt this good in years.
“What about your husband?” he stops me for a brief second.
“Fuck my husband,” I tell him. “He locks me up in that house all day and he’s ruined my damn life. All I want is you.”
“Good,” he smiles, running his tongue against my neck. Goose bumps dart across my skin and the invisible hairs rise with them.
I rip off his leather belt and slide his jeans all the way down. He’s not wearing underwear and his cock…wow, his cock is huge, thick and solid. I’m aching for him and I think he’s feeling the same way. I don’t even waste time with the foreplay. I just let him thrust it inside me and I moan loudly as he fucks me senseless.
I’m on top, but I’m barely in control. He just pounds upward, over and over again, pressing in deep and releasing. I gyrate my hips and angle myself so he hits my g-spot with each pump. Soon enough, something heavy builds inside of me. I’m going to cum.
“I know you’re about to burst, baby,” he moans into my ear, kissing and licking at my lobe. He curls his tongue against the cartilage and I just fucking lose it.
I’m dripping all over his thighs, down to his balls, screaming wildly. A neighbor pounds on the wall next to us to get us to quiet down, but I don’t give a fuck and neither does Payton. All that matters now is the feeling he’s giving me, over and over, in and out.
“Keep fucking me,” I manage to say.
“Like I’d ever stop,” he groans. “This is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”
I’m shaking and I feel the heat pulse inside of me. I reach out and rub my hands against his perfect abs and lose myself in him. I’m cumming and I’m cumming wildly. I nearly fall off the fucking bed, I cum so hard. Three years since I’ve had anybody inside of me. It’s hard to even imagine.
The orgasm is strong and overwhelming. I fall onto the pillows and he doesn’t skip a beat. He folds my legs over my stomach, behind my head even, and he runs his rugged hand over my smooth pussy. He inserts three fingers inside of me and curls them against my g-spot, sending me again into another orgasm.
I’m left picking up the pieces of my life afterwards. When I close my eyes, I feel him enter me again, parting my lips. They curl against his glistening shaft and hold him tight. “Fuck,” he moans. “I can’t believe you’re this tight.”
As he pumps away, I keep my eyes close and envision what my life would be like if I had never been on that show, if he had never gone to war. We would be together, living a perfect life with our child. Sure, we’d have worries, but it wouldn’t be anything like the horrible life I have now.
He leans forward and kisses me. Then, he holds my arms steady and thrusts a few more times, dragging his tongue around my nipples. “I can’t live without you,” he says. “I know. It sounds crazy.”
“It doesn’t,” I tell him. It sounds perfect. It sounds right. It even sounds better than dying and going to heaven.
He fucks me harder than ever before and when he slides himself out of me, I go on all fours and wrap my tongue around his cock. He pushes it in deeper and I feel it hit the back of my throat. I slide my lips back up and look up at him.
“Cum,” I tell him, demanding. I need him. I need to make him feel what he’s made me feel.
I wrap my mouth around his shaft again, tenderly sliding my tongue across the bottom. In and out he goes, holding my thick hair and closing his eyes. “Oh, Jesus,” he moans. “Holy shit. I’m going to blow,” he says.
He bites his lip and tilts his head back. His cock grows inside my mouth and I open wider for him. “Oh,” he says again, “here it comes. I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming!”
His cock contracts erratically, pulsating in my mouth. Thick streams of his cum fill my mouth and I swallow it whole within seconds. I push him deeper inside, feeling him shake against me. When he’s finished, he slides out and I smile, wiping the cum from my lips.
He leans forward and kisses me some more, falling to the bed next to me. “Stay here,” he says after a moment. “With me. Like, for a few days.”
“I can’t, Payton,” I sigh, glancing at his chiseled chest and perfect jawline. His hair is combed to the side, short and beautiful. He’s everything a woman would want. He’s a hero, a man who searched the world for me, and he’s willing to give everything up for the one woman he loves. Here I am, fucking all that up.
“I know,” he frowns. “You’ve got a marriage.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I do,” I say. “I don’t know what I’m doing though. I just know I can’t just up and leave him.”
“I could protect you,” he says. “I’m saving some money from this construction job. We can save together and leave this place. It could just be you and I, forever.”
It’s a tempting offer and it sounds too good to be true. That’s because it is. “It’s more complicated than you think,” I whisper. “There’s a lot more that you don’t know. Stuff you couldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he laughs. “I’m a pretty understanding guy.”
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I have to go soon. I’m really sorry.”
“What about all of this? Didn’t it mean anything to you? Wasn’t it important?” he asks, sitting up in bed. He runs his fingers through my hair and I feel so calm. I don’t want him to stop, but the babysitter is already waiting for me. I look at my phone and I have two missed calls from Danny.
I turn to him, placing my hand against his rugged cheek. His dog tags hang around his muscular neck, dangling over his chiseled chest. “It was important. I haven’t fucked anyone in years. Do you know how hard that’s been for me? I haven’t felt an ounce of love from Danny.”
“You haven’t even had sex? Not even after the wedding? What the fuck is wrong with him?”
I laugh and shake my head, even more embarrassed about the whole thing. “We didn’t have a ceremony. He took me to a courthouse and we signed the papers. That’s it,” I say. “When we got back to his place, he drank a full fifth of whisky. He got angry with me, like almost to the point of violence, so I got scared. Eventually, he just fell asleep. The next morning, I told him we had the best sex of our lives.”
He’s looking at me now like I’m crazy and I hate it. “Stop,” I say. “You don’t know how hard it’s been. He’s really scary, Payton.”
“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just want you to be safe and the thought of you going back home makes me sick to my stomach. But, if you need me to, I’ll respect your wishes and let you go back home. I’m not ever going to hold you captive. That’s not the kind of guy I am.”
No. He’s the kind of guy who rescues people. He would never tear someone down like Danny. He’s too sure of himself. He’s more confident now that he’s back from his tour of duty. “I know you aren’t like him,” I tell him. “Thank you, Payton, for respecting my wishes.”
“Can I see you again?” he asks. He’s lying on his mattress, completely naked and, God, I want another round with him.
“Maybe,” I say. “We’ll see. We have to be c
areful. I have to be careful.”
I straighten out my dress and fix my hair in his mirror. I head for the door when I finish. It’s going to be strange when I go back home. I feel a sense of dread and guilt about the whole thing. Even though I want this more than anything, I wonder if I’ve went about it in the wrong way.
“Hey, Dakota,” he says, before I’m outside. “Your husband is a total asshole. I know you feel weird about all of this, but try not to let it get to you. He’s an abuser. He deserves worse punishment. You don’t love someone by hitting them in the face.”
I nod, feeling emotional again. I open the door and walk out, whispering “Bye, Payton.”
He just winks and folds his arms behind his head, cock fully out. “I love you, Dakota,” he says.
Shit.
133
Payton
I wake up the next morning with a solid morning wood. I’ve been having some heavy dreams lately and they’re all about fucking Dakota Rogers’ brains out. God, was yesterday real? Did that really fucking happen?
I walk into the bathroom, jerk off in the shower for the hundredth time, and get ready for my day at the construction site. Truth is, it’s some really hard work. I saw and did plenty of rough jobs in Afghanistan, but it’s been three years since I’ve trained. This work is brutal.
My body aches and my hands are sore, but I have to do it. If I’m going to live out here, I have to give it my all. It’s the only way I’m going to get her back. And I’m definitely saving her from Danny. I walk out my door and head toward the job.
“What an abusive piece of shit,” I mutter, drilling a large nail into place. Dobbins is steadily holding a beam that’s secure on some kind of levy system. It’s heavy and he’s sighing pretty loudly so I go over to help him out. “Am I right? I should kill the guy, right?”
The men on the lower level grab the beam and give us the thumbs up. “I don’t know,” he laughs. “He sounds like a piece of work, but what’re you gonna do? Steal her?”
My eyes light up and I raise my eyebrows in thought. “That’s not a bad fucking idea,” I laugh. “I’ll kill him and then I’ll steal her.”
“Well if you need an alibi, I am not your guy,” he says. “I just worked with the guy, I’ll tell ‘em.”
“So much for having my back.”
“Yeah, well. To each his own,” he shrugs.
When the day is done and we’re feeling pretty shitty, he slaps my back. “You look worn out, kid,” he says. “Why don’t you come out with the rest of the guys and get a drink or two?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I’ve got some things I have to take care of.”
“Like what? Staring at your wall? Masturbating yourself to sleep?” he laughs. The men around turn to me and laugh with him. “Come on. It’ll be good for you to get out of the house for a while.”
I’ve been out all day, but I go anyway. There’s no use in arguing. Plus, he’s probably right. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I haven’t spent every hour thinking about Dakota. I need a day to myself.
The sun ahead of us, hangs at the corner of the sky. Not quite night, not quite the afternoon. It’s stuck in the limbo period that’s always made my mind yearn for more things than I have in front of me. When we walk in the bar, I think of her. When I order a drink, I think of her. When I see a woman smile to her date, I think of Dakota’s cute smile and the way her cheeks crease against her beautiful lips. Every second is spent thinking of her.
I grab the cold bottle of Bud and knock it back, finishing it within seconds. “Damn!” Dobbins yells, clapping. “That’s one thirsty kid. Get another one for him, will ya?”
The bartender grabs another bottle and slides it down my way. I open it and this time sip on it. “There ya go,” Dobbins says. “Pace yourself. We have all night.”
It doesn’t take much to get me integrated with these guys. They’re loudmouth, blue-collar folks with hard lives. And even though I didn’t grow up quite like them, I have their respect because I served to protect them. Only, they don’t know what it’s like over there. No one does. It’s a bit awkward to explain.
“So, let me get this straight,” Jeff says to me with an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His hair is greased back and shiny looking, and every so often, I catch him glancing at himself in the mirror. “You get stabbed twice and shot at by some Isis folks. Then, you come back, and spend three whole years trying to find some broad? And she’s married?” he asks.
I shrug and take another drink. He laughs. “Let me just ask you this. Why?” The whole table bursts out laughing and I can’t help but smile.
“Jeff, I’m going to answer your question with another question,” I laugh. “Have you ever met a woman that you can’t stop thinking about? Have you ever spent one night in the Afghan desert, freezing your balls off, the only thing keeping you alive being the thought of her in your arms again? Have you ever gotten stabbed, laid in the dirt, bleeding out, and the only thing you can think about is writing one last letter to the woman you can’t get out of your head?”
The whole table is silent. If someone were to drop a pin, I’d be able to hear it echo throughout the building. “That’s what I thought,” I say, motioning for the bartender. “Another beer please.”
“Shit!” Jeff yells. “Get this man ten!” he bursts out laughing again, slapping the table.
I like these guys, I decide. They’re different. They’re rough around the edges, but they help me pass the time. “Anyway,” I start again after I’ve gotten about halfway through my drink, “it’s what I’ve set out to do. I don’t know if I’ll fail or not. I think she loves me, but you never can tell with these things. Her husband beats her. I have no doubt in my mind that’s true. She practically admitted it herself.”
Jeff clears his throat and slams his fist against the table. “Dammit!” he yells. “We’re going to find that son of a bitch and we’re going to give him something he’ll remember!”
“Settle down,” I wave my hand at him. “It hasn’t come to that. Yet. I want to think that this thing can end clean with him.” I shake my head when I say the words. Even I know that won’t happen.
“Boy, I may dumber than you, but I’ve lived a hell of a lot longer,” he says. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that shit like this, it don’t end easy. But that’s why you gotta do it. If it was easy, you think it would be worth it?”
I nod at him and finish my beer. “I suppose you’re right,” I tell him, placing a twenty on the table. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. I have some things to take care of. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Same time tomorrow?” Jeff yells at me just as I’m walking out.
“Sounds good,” I tell him.
I step out onto the humid street and the sun’s gone down beyond the horizon. I’m drunk, but not too drunk to know where I am. I hear the bar door open and shut again behind me and I turn around to see who it is. It’s Dobbins.
“Hey, it’s getting late for me too,” he says. “How about I walk you home?”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I tell him. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“Payton, New York is a beautiful place. A wonderful place, actually. But at night, in this area, it gets a little rough. Ever hear of the Luciotti Family?” he asks me.
“Nah,” I mutter. “I have a feeling I don’t want to either.”
“You’re right,” he laughs. “You don’t. Hell, you might be fine. But it’s better not to take any chances."
We walk the lonely streets of Brooklyn, stumbling and talking about better and worse times. I tell him a few stories about the war, about Savage and he tells me about his stint in prison.
“That Savage guy sounds like a bad ass motherfucker,” he says. The way he says it makes me laugh. He gives the motion of wielding a fully automatic and I chuckle lightly to myself.
I can’t concentrate on anything anymore. I try and just make my way through the day by looking down, doing m
y work, and getting home as soon as I can. Today’s been different, however, and I hope it marks a turning point. Although, I’m not too sure.
She seems like she still loves me. Shit, maybe I’m just projecting. I really don’t know. All I know is what I want and what I need, and it’s her. Maybe I’m selfish. Okay, I’m definitely selfish. I just feel like I know what’s right.
“Did she read those letters you sent to her?” Dobbins asks me. “If she did, she’ll surely be with you. You really wrote her every single day?”
“Every single day, man,” I laugh. “She said she never got them. God, I don’t know how many letters there were. There had got to be at least 85, maybe even close to 100. They’re all gone now, I guess.”
“Shit,” he grunts. We arrive at my house and I put out my hand. “In any case, I think you’ll do good. Just keep fighting for her. Don’t give up. That Danny guy sounds like a huge asshole. If he’s as bad as you say he is, she already wants out. It’s just up to you to get her to act on her wishes.”
“What if she’s brainwashed? What if it’s too late?” I ask him.
“Buddy, it’s never too late,” he says. “Trust me on that. I’m an older guy. I’ve been in similar situations.”
He shakes my hand and I nod with a slight smile. “Thanks, Dobbins.” I turn around and jiggle the old lock open with my key. “You’ve been a real friend to me out here.”
“No worries,” he says. “I’ll see you at the site after the weekend.”
I shut the door behind me and head upstairs, to my apartment. When I get inside, there’s a piece of paper under my door.
It’s simple and small, and it’s been cut out. I recognize that paper. It’s from my letters! It’s the same parchment I used over there, I swear. I jump on my mattress and hold the note in my hand. It reads: