by Wild, Nikki
Everything went white with desire.
It almost hurt how fiercely I came, the roping cum threading through the slit atop my thick cock. My heavy balls tightened securely, and I burst my seed into my lover – caught safely inside the condom.
Gasping, groaning, and breathing heavy, I collapsed onto the bed beside her, my head swimming with dazed pleasure.
After a moment of composing ourselves, I reached over and squeezed her sexy little ass. Kate giggled at the pressure, rubbing her rump into my hardened dick.
“See? Who needs the military?” She smirked, grinding her cheeks against my still-hard dick. “Ain’t none of them who can jump your cock like I can.”
I felt her cheeks rubbing around the outside of the erection, squeezing it between. It was a possessive move, and I loved it.
“True,” I agreed with a groan, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. With a chuckle, I pulled her into a tight embrace. “It’s a talent.”
“Goddamn right it is,” she huskily murmured in my ear, neck so close to my lips that I strained to keep from biting it. “We were made for each other, we were.”
“Ain’t arguing that,” I said defensively.
“Don’t worry, Grizz.” Kate turned over and took my face into her hands. “I know you have to do this. I’m not about to give you grief over it.”
“Kate…”
“No, I mean it,” she replied sadly, planting a kiss on my lips. “It sucks, but you do what you’ve gotta do.”
I felt bad for putting her in this position.
The plan had only been to knock out four years in the Marines, then come back home to my beloved – for good. I’d put in some time serving the country, get some serious training from respected marine officials, and leave with a sense of direction for the rest of my life.
After a stint in the military, I’d come back home with a solid bank account and whisk her away from all of this. We could start our life anew.
But this shit in Afghanistan changed the game. War meant a hefty signup bonus, better perks, more security afterwards, and selfishly… I liked being told what to do. I enjoyed direction from someone I could respect. I was a loose cannon in need of authority from someone I trusted, and God knew it.
“Not a whole lot of people can do a combat tour in the Marines, and here you are doing two. I’m proud of you, Grizz,” she whispered lovingly. “Lots of people around here are.”
“I don’t care about any of them,” I told her. “Can’t say I give two rat-shits about their opinions.”
It was true.
My deadbeat, washed up alcoholic father was still rotting in his trailer somewhere around here, and the rest of the people – nice as they were – weren’t enough to keep me in this tiny Arizonan mountain town.
“I know,” she smiled. “It’s just you and me against the world, isn’t it?”
“Always was, Kate,” I nodded. “Always will be.”
Her hand stroked my arm, up to my shoulder. “Which is why I wanted to make your last night as a free man special,” my lover smiled. “Tonight, we’ve got all the time in the world.”
“And don’t it feel good,” I grinned.
“When you get back, we’ll get all set up,” Kate smirked. “And maybe then, you won’t need a commander. You’ll be in charge of your fate. You can call your own shots. It’ll be your time in the spotlight.”
“Don’t care much for the spotlight,” I shook my head. “Something to be said about enabling someone better.”
She snuggled up closer. “Who could ever be better than you, Grizz?”
“Plenty of men,” I shrugged. “Besides, there’s safety in it. Put someone else in charge, someone deserving, and serve them well. Make a difference without putting yourself on fucking display. That’s the life for me.”
Kate smiled and shook her head. “That can work for you, but I’m a bit more ambitious than that.”
“New York,” I nodded knowingly.
“I’ve decided to turn it down.”
“What, why?”
“I’m going to wait for you, Grizz. I mean, really… Can you see a shy little desert girl like me in the big city alone? In the biggest city we’ve got? They’d eat me alive up there.”
“You can handle it.”
“Not convinced I can. No, I’d rather go up there with you by my side,” she told me. “Then I can focus on the work...”
“But what about the job offer?”
“The industry’s not going anywhere soon. I can wait and build up my work history out here. Maybe I’ll take a few more classes. By the time you’re back, I’ll probably be up for even better job offers.”
“Don’t know that’s what’ll happen.”
“The other choice is to live in some shitty studio apartment and barely pay the bills. The pay’s good, but it’s not that good. Not for New York City…”
“So, what? You’re just staying out here now until I’m ready?” I asked thoughtfully. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“Neither was watching you string on your combat boots to play Rambo on the other side of the world,” Kate reminded me, “but we are where we are, and I support you either way.”
I pulled her deep into my embrace.
“I’ll come back. I promised you this, I’ll be back before you know it, and I’ll be able to take even better care of you. You’ll see.”
“Don’t I know it,” she softly smiled, nuzzling into my hard chest, listening to promises given so carefully, with such undying conviction.
But I failed her.
Because by the time I finally came back to Arizona, Kate was long gone…
Kate
Two Months Ago
Waitressing the overnight shift sucked.
It meant that I always had to deal with the sloppy drunkards that wandered in off the street, eager for food just as much as a nice piece of ass to squeeze.
Waffle Shack, with its giant, glowing interstate sign, was a godsend to truckers in for the long haul. At least the out-of-towners knew when to quit ahead when you stopped playing along.
The locals thought you owed them.
When regulars started leaving larger than average tips, my pocketbook loved it, but my soul dreaded it. That meant it was only a matter of time before they expected the flirting to go a little bit… further.
After all, they were being generous.
The least you could do was let them have a little touch, right? Let ‘em have a bit of a friendly pat?
Wrong.
That’s not the kind of girl I am.
Sure, a little sexual harassment comes with the job, especially in the Deep South. But I didn’t sign up in this dump to serve platters of hash browns and grits, only to make myself the main course.
It didn’t even pay that well.
Only six weeks into this crummy job, and I already had to remind some of the older, overly friendly customers that there were strip clubs just a few exits down that offered what they wanted.
Sometimes, the customers were the least of my problems…
I was stuck on the bullshit overnight shifts because I was on probation, thanks to the shit-stain assistant manager, Clyde.
The problem was that I’d been naïve.
When Clyde started making advances not three days into the job, I’d politely warded him off. I was used to that kind of attention here, after all, and I really needed this job.
What I had failed to understand was that I was the novelty. I was the cute girl from out of town with the thick skin who could dish it out as often as I got it.
Hot plates optional.
But Clyde hadn’t taken too kindly to that. He’d taken that as playing hard to get.
His bulletproof plan was two-fold. Part one was a heaping of snide little sexual comments that were somehow supposed to make me drop on my knees in his office, giving him some of that Southern service with a smile.
The other part was automatically giving me the best shifts and days off becau
se he liked me, and it made me owe him.
Or so he thought.
The other waitresses, much more senior than I, didn’t care for that. I couldn’t turn to them for help, because every time I happened upon them smoking outside, they were bitching about my special treatment.
It came to a head when Clyde cornered me in the cooler one lazy Sunday afternoon, eager to wet his whistle, and I gave him a piece of my goddamn mind.
Oh, he got the picture alright.
Then the lecherous fucker smacked me with probation. So now, I was working the lazy overnight shifts, scrambling for tips from the drunken fuckers and broke college students stumbling in off the street.
The saving grace was Muriel, the other overnight waitress, a career server around seventy who took a liking to me. The woman could have been my grandmother, both in age and hospitable attitude. All she was missing was the tray of warm cookies every night.
So, the money sucked, and the rest of the scheduled servers thought I was first blowing their boss, and now getting uppity about putting out – no matter what I said.
On top of that, the late-night customers weren’t used to having a younger, attractive waitress on their beck and call. So, they acted up for me.
But there was Muriel to tell them off.
At least I had her.
One of the nights that I didn’t have her, I was stuck with a real uppity bitch from the late morning crew. Chloe had it out for me from the start, and I never figured out why.
But she was one of those who thrived on the sex appeal. Freshly eighteen, she cooed and played into the drunken fuckers, getting tips that could make me weep.
She’d even intentionally sat my asshole of an ex-boyfriend in my section tonight, him and his little group of cronies.
Mark was a little older, a heavy-set guy with a protruding beer belly, premature balding, and a leering grin. When we’d dated, he’d been kind of attractive. A broad build went a long way, and he’d been better than my previous string of asshole biker boyfriends.
Until he wasn’t.
“Whatcha want?” I angrily asked as I whipped out my pen and notebook, casting a filthy look over at Chloe as she poured coffees at the countertop and watched smugly.
Bitch.
“Hiya, Sunshine,” Mark grinned stupidly. It was obvious that he’d already downed his usual six-pack of his favorite domestic piss. “I wanna get a round of coffees for the crew.”
Oh yeah.
The crew.
That’s what he called his bullshit friends. While they weren’t the brightest bulbs in the box, I didn’t know what they saw in him. Then again, I wondered what I had ever seen in the asshole, too.
It didn’t help that they were all part of a motorcycle club here in these parts – the Bayou Boys, they called themselves. I didn’t know a whole lot about ‘em – the backwater chumps in my booth were recent additions, somehow all passing initiation.
All I knew is that I didn’t want any part of any club that willingly took these stupid strays in.
“Coffees, right up,” I muttered.
Of course, I felt the firm slap of his hand against my ass when I turned to walk away.
Just suck it up, I groaned.
You’ll only encourage him…
I moved for the coffee machine, only to realize that Chloe hadn’t bothered refilling it when it started getting low. Great. That meant five minutes waiting on it while Mark and his crew watched, open to heckle me at every opportunity.
“Ohhh, sorry about that,” Chloe smirked over her shoulder while taking an order.
Yeah. Sure you are.
I didn’t even notice the burly fellow wander into the diner, taking his seat two booths over from my ex-boyfriend.
One of the crew piped up: “Honey, we’re thirsty, tired men. You gon’ hurry up with that there coffee anytime soon?”
“Waitin’ on the machine, darling,” I sarcastically quipped.
Another one snipped up.
“You gonna get our orders, or what?”
We all knew that they liked their drinks before they ordered, but I played along. Wandering back to their table reluctantly, I pulled out my notepad and began transcribing.
Mark grinned up in a leer, dropping the menu down onto the ground.
“You getting that?”
I resisted a sigh, carefully bending down so that I wouldn’t show my ass to them. Didn’t stop him from giving another solid smack, and I almost banged my head under the table on the way up.
“Are you done?” I asked, hand on my hip.
The crew burst into laughter, and I just shook my head. Animals. They’re all a bunch of fucking animals here.
Mark snatched the menu back, looking over the large, glossy, laminated sheet. “Yeah, I’ll take the All-American Platter, extra bacon, extra cheese on the hash…”
After I was done taking their orders and poured them coffee, I went ahead and updated the cook on the new itinerary.
I liked him.
Geoff was a friendly kid. No older than twenty-two, the high school dropout was a savant when it came to running a kitchen alone. He might lack in book smarts, but behind a grill, he was the best I’d ever seen. I imagined him running his own restaurant one day, knocking the critics dead with crazy recipes cooked to perfection.
That might be his future, but at the moment, he was covered in bacon grease and taking a second to read the annoyance on my face.
“Mark again, huh?”
I nodded bitterly.
“Don’t let ‘em get to ya, Kate,” he smiled sympathetically, simultaneously snapping open waffle grids and flipping eggs. “They’re real assholes. You did good by dropping that sack of shit.”
“Yeah, I like to tell myself that,” I sighed. “But he’s never gonna leave me alone. His bullshit crew knows everyone in this town. I can’t get a job in a fifteen-minute radius of Lafayette without him showing up two days later.”
Geoff wiped his hands clean on his perpetually stained apron front. “You deserve better than what you got. If it were me–”
Chloe’s shrill voice called out.
“Customer! Booth!”
Great. Not only did I miss someone walking in, but now the entire restaurant was going to blame me for not serving him… let alone it being her fucking turn.
“Be right back,” I groaned.
While he started slathering more bacon on the flat griddle, I walked back behind the countertop and out to the restaurant lobby, grumbling all the while.
“You as bad a server as you are a lay, sweetheart?” Mark sneered from off to the side, and his booth roared with laughter.
I tried to ignore them. They were going to make me miserable and leave me high and dry when it came time for the tip. If I was going to make a living, I needed to impress some real customers…
And the man who made himself at home in a corner booth certainly looked real.
Real big… anyway… The menu he held up did nothing to hide his massive arms and tall frame.
I tugged my greasy notebook and a pen from my apron pocket, walking over to greet him.
“Welcome to Waffle Shack,” I cheerily started. “My name’s Kate and I’ll be serving you tonight. What can I–”
The menu lowered as the stranger lifted his gaze, and the surprise hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
I could say that the years had been kind to Grizz, but that wouldn’t be doing justice.
The years had worshipped him, carving his strong, thick frame into something a Greek sculptor might have captured in marble. Broad shoulders, massive tree trunk arms, a thick beard, and a chiseled face bearing those same, piercing pale blue eyes gazed up quietly at me.
One glance from those eyes, in that body, and my panties didn’t stand a fucking chance. I could already feel my body react, betraying any hope that I might be able to hold myself together.
He wasn’t supposed to be here… He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere.
“…Kate
?”
Grizz
When the hand moves you, it doesn’t provide a list of directions and a fucking map. God opens a door, and you make a choice.
Impossible things happen all the time. Most people pawn this shit off as accidents or simple coincidence.
I know the truth.
There’s no such thing as coincidence…
Nothing else could explain why Kate was standing here with her polite expression faltering mid-sentence. This is why I’d been sent East. I just found my purpose inside a dirty Waffle Shack.
I wasn’t about to question that… I’m not a man who taps the stone twice.
“Yes, that’s my name,” she replied, finally breaking the silence and casting a shaky glance down at her nametag. With a broken voice, she quickly added, “What would you like to drink?”
Something changed in the air with the booth behind her, but I was preoccupied with this utterly shocking moment.
I shook my head, struggling to clear it. “Water, please,” I finally managed.
“Coming right up,” she replied calmly.
With those words, I watched an invisible veil fall over her soul, closing off the light in her eyes to me. Kate turned on her heel and was away from me in an instant, both in closeness of her flesh and her heart.
I felt a dark chill inside, and shuddered. The door to my destiny was closing, and I’d just asked for a glass of fucking water.
Something felt wrong here, and it wasn’t just this ghost from my past – no matter how strangely she was acting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the oxygen was being sucked out of the damn room. My instincts had me on edge as I tried to make sense of it.
“Here,” Kate muttered, dropping a glass of water off at my table. Without any ice, the straw bobbled uselessly in the lukewarm water. “Want anything else?”
“Kate,” I responded patiently, gazing into her eyes. “I know you remember me.”
“Can’t say that I do,” she shrugged, but I could see the hesitation insider her. I could see the way her pretty hands trembled on the little pad of paper she was carrying. “So, are you gonna order something?”