Trolling Nights: Interludes

by Frierson, Savannah J.

  She reclined against him drowsily, not the least bit inclined to disengage from him. His arms held her tenderly and her body rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

  “This certainly beats a hummin’bird cake!”

  She squinted her eyes at him. “What?”

  “Like you said—I’ve dreamed about sex in this bed since I first came to your house, so happy anniversary to me!” Tim cracked, pumping a fist tiredly in the air.

  She rolled her eyes and rested her cheek back on Tim’s shoulder. Her husband was a loon.

  “Oh—and as soon as we find the energy to get up, we’re packing a bag to stay the night at the Doubletree in Charleston.”

  Panic seized her instead of excitement. “Kerry—!”

  “Will be with grandparents who adore him,” Tim assured her, kissing her forehead. “It’s all been arranged. We have two anniversaries to celebrate, remember?”

  Bevin nodded and snuggled into him again. He’d been on a mission for their first one; and while they’d had an “anniversary dinner” when he’d come back almost a month after the fact, it still wasn’t the same. Spending the night at the same hotel where they’d stayed the night they’d gotten engaged would make for a perfect commemoration.

  They remained cuddling in silence for some moments, and she frowned when Tim began to chuckle.

  “Sir?” she asked.

  He grinned at her, running his tongue along his crooked front two teeth. “You do know we’ll have to leave this room eventually…and you do know Mama Bev’s gonna know we got jiggy with it in here,” Tim pointed out, and even did a shoulder shimmy.

  Bevin hung her head and shook it. “You really didn’t just say ‘jiggy with it’…”

  back to top

  Welcome Home

  Timothy Capshaw wanted his wife and he wanted her now. After thirty-two hours of nonstop flying, he yearned to climb into bed and hold her soft, warm body against his; inhale her scent into his lungs; and feel her love seep into his soul. But he couldn’t do that.

  Because she wasn’t here.

  There was no reason for her absence, in his mind. It was pushing eleven on a school night. She was taking classes at Old Dominion to get her MBA in Business Administration. Not only that, nobody was home—not even his two-year-old son Kerry. He’d called the Brown household, relieved when Rosita answered the phone.

  “Yeah, she had some sort of function, so I’m watching the babies! Welcome home—mmm…”

  Tim had rolled his eyes and said he’d talk to them later, irrationally angry Ulrich was getting to do with his wife what Tim wanted to do with his own.

  That had been thirty minutes ago; and as the clock skipped past eleven, his pacing had become frantic. How long did these things last, anyway? What the hell kind of school function went well into the night?

  His body froze when the front door opened. His eyes locked in on her, his wife, barreling through, the leather jacket opened because, though late, it was still summer, even if nights were a little cool. Her purple top stretched around her torso and Tim’s eyes immediately fell to her abdomen, to her bump that represented where their second child grew.

  “Tim!” Bevin Capshaw cried, rushing towards him only to stop abruptly, her arms stretched out wide as the strap of her purse dangled helplessly at her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know what time it is?” he asked quietly. There was no book bag on her back. “Where’ve you been?”

  Bevin drew back, cocked her head to the side, and pursed her lips. “Excuse me?”

  “Where. Have. You. Been?”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m slow!” Her lip curled dangerously. “Or a misbehaving child. I’m neither.”

  Tim breathed deeply to control his ire and rein in his relief that she was here and safe. This was not how he’d envisioned this reunion going.

  “You scared me, Bevin,” he whispered, looking at her mutinous expression. “It’s late and you and my son weren’t here. I couldn’t get in touch with you—”

  “So, you got a taste of what I go through whenever you go out on a mission, eh?”

  Tim clenched his jaw. He knew she was just saying that because she was on the defensive; and yet, that didn’t negate her point…or his.

  “You should’ve called,” he said, then shook his head when she let out a sharp laugh.

  “How? I don’t ever know when you’re returning! I’m not putting my life on hold for you, Timothy.”

  His body stirred at the use of his full name, yet he stalked closer, almost within arm’s reach. “Where’s Kerry?”

  “With Rosita, as you well know,” Bevin said, crossing her arms at her chest.

  “Why isn’t he with you?”

  “I have a test tomorrow and Rosita offered watch him for me.”

  “She offered to watch a two year old and an infant so you could study?” Tim asked skeptically. “Where are your books?”

  Bevin’s eyes widened and she shoved her hand to toward the next room. “On the coffee table—why are you interrogating me?”

  Tim glanced at the living area, where Kerry’s multi-colored building blocks were in disarray on his play mat and thick textbooks were, in fact, on the coffee table. “Why are they there instead of with you?”

  “Wasn’t supposed to bring them.”

  Tim narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t sitting right with him. “Where were you again?”

  “Mulligan’s Bar,” she heaved on a sigh.

  “I thought it was a school function.”

  Bevin just rolled her eyes this time and started walking towards the bedrooms. Tim grasped her arm and whirled her to him firmly, her momentum causing her to bump into his body. They both hissed, Tim closing his eyes at the feel of his wife against him. His other hand grasped her other elbow, not letting her be free of him. After a moment, Bevin relaxed against him, her arms wrapping around his waist.

  “It was a study session/study break. A trivia night of sorts of what we’d be tested on. It was surprisingly fun and I feel ready for the test.”

  Tim held her close, dropping his face to the top of her head. “I was frightened when you weren’t here. I didn’t like that feeling…” He’d been looking forward to seeing her, counting down the days, hours, minutes, seconds, until she was in his sight. To come home and realize his countdown had been extended had made him almost lose his mind.

  “If I’d known you’d be here, I would’ve called, Tim,” she promised, pulling back to look him in his eyes. Hers filled with tears, and he used his thumbs to brush away moisture that had escaped down her cheeks. “I’m so happy you’re back, though.” She pulled back further, her eyes scanning his form. “Unscathed?”

  He gave a crooked smile. “No more scathed than I was when I left.”

  Bevin chuckled and sagged against him. “That’s good.”

  “So, how did you get there if Rosita didn’t go with you? The car was still in the drive.”

  “Javier gave me a ride—”

  “Javier?!” A name like that meant trouble because it was male—the guy’s sexual preference be damned.

  Bevin pinched the small of his back, causing him to bite back a curse. “I know you aren’t jealous!”

  “You’re out with another man!”

  “Oh, my goodness!” Bevin cried, prying herself from his embrace and holding out the sides of her jacket. “Look at me! If this belly ain’t a ‘claimed’ sign, I don’t know what is—never mind the rings on my finger!” she added, shoving said finger out toward him.

  In that moment, a strong, possessive urge gripped Tim, and he hauled Bevin back up to him, kissing her hard. She gasped against his mouth, whimpering, although he was too busy trying to literally claim her to pull back and see to her needs. It was hard to imagine, after close to three years of marriage, Bevin still didn’t know the effect she had on men. He didn’t even trust Roberto around her even though he was every bit the younger brother to Bevin that he was to Rosita and had been in
a committed relationship with another man for almost a year. If this Javier person took her to this study session, then obviously he and Bevin were friends, which meant Bevin trusted him, which meant there was another man watching over her when he was off doing Uncle Sam’s bidding.

  He’d have to grill meet this fellow ASAP.

  “No,” Bevin gasped out, finally wrenching her mouth from his. “You don’t get to touch me and kiss me until my bra melts to get me to stop being mad at you! If you don’t trust me then we have a problem!”

  “I trust you,” Tim said immediately, moving his lips to her jaw bone and down her throat. “It’s everyone else—”

  “That line is so tired and cliché. And a lie.” She shoved him away, and he moved only because he respected her and her hormones were…mercurial. “I think you should sleep on the couch tonight.”

  At that, Tim smirked, and then he threw back his head and guffawed. If she thought he would sleep on the couch after three months of her not being in his arms, she was heading for disappointment. Bevin crossed her arms underneath her breasts again, then huffed and spun around to the bedrooms. Tim followed directly behind, but he’d been too distracted by the sway of her hips and ass to prevent the door from slamming in his face.

  “Bevin!”

  “Couch!” she hissed through the door. “Welcome home!”

  Tim glared at the door and tamped down the impulse to kick it like Kerry would do when he threw one of his temper tantrums. Okay, so maybe he’d handled it a little wrong, but a married man didn’t come home to an empty house at ten-thirty at night without some trepidation, and then wait for a half-hour more for his spouse to arrive. Granted, he could’ve called Bevin’s cellphone, but that would’ve ruined his surprise homecoming—not that it’d ultimately mattered since Rosita had clearly spilled the beans. Now, his wife was filled with such righteous indignation that, by rights, really shouldn’t belong to her, yet it made him irritated and horny as hell.

  He took off his shirt and let it drift to the floor. “I’m sorry, Bevin,” he said against the door, his front completely smooshed against the white faux wood. “Baby, I’m tired, cranky, and still amped up from the mission, and I was so excited at the prospect of seeing you and my babies. You didn’t deserve my frustration, and it was my fault for wanting to surprise you instead of calling you like usual. I know you would’ve called if you knew I were here; that was unfair of me. And I know you love me…and I know nobody can put it on you like me because I love you so much—”

  The door opened. Bevin had tears streaming down her face while the red tank she wore rode up over the belly bump and her green bikini panties made her look like the embodiment of the Black Liberation Flag.

  “You punk,” she whispered at him, hitting his chest with her fist as she snuggled into him. “How can you be cocky and sweet at the same time?”

  Chuckling, Tim kissed her temple and squeezed her gently. “It’s a gift.”

  She tilted up her head and gave him a peck on the lips. “You’re still sleeping on the couch.”

  “What?!”

  “I have a test tomorrow!”

  “You know what would knock the anxiousness right out? Dirty monkey sex with your hubby—ow!”

  Bevin had popped his bicep hard. “Behave! You wouldn’t want anyone talking to your daughter like that!”

  His heart instantly seized and his arms tightened around her. “We’re having a girl?!”

  Bevin’s eyes widened again, but then she giggled and snuggled into him once more. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to find out without you. It was merely hypothetical, baby.”

  And just like that, Tim fell even more in love with his wife. Again. This seemed to be an hourly occurrence where she was concerned, especially when she said or did something so utterly cute and adorable. Or considerate. Or breathe. Yeah, it didn’t take much…

  She yelped and giggled again when he picked her up off the ground and carried her to the bed. He hovered above her after he lay her down upon it, the soft glow of the single lamp on the nightstand making her look ethereal. Tim really and truly wanted his wife to do well tomorrow, but he wanted to be inside of her even more.

  Bevin poked out her bottom lip and cupped his cheek. “I’m still mad at you…”

  Nodding, Tim closed his green eyes and began kissing the heel and center of her palm. “I understand.” He almost cheered when she bucked up against him to meet his hips, which he’d started pumping as he loved her hand.

  “I hate this is so easy for you—you just look at me and I melt!”

  Tim did chuckle at this, not even concerned about the glower she sent him. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled. She smelled like the bar—smoke, beer, and her—sugar. It reminded him of the first time he’d ever held her in his arms, during that dance at The Barrel. And he was just as breathless now as he’d been then, especially with Bevin carrying his seed again. He’d only wanted to get to know her then, drawn to her because she’d been bored and alert at the same time, holding court with her friends and their suitors yet inexplicably absent of any herself. That she’d been so wise and so naïve had been an enigma to him, and he’d wanted desperately to be the one to show her all she didn’t yet know.

  What he hadn’t expected was her showing him a thing or several also, mainly love. He honestly hadn’t thought it in the cards for him, and he’d never had to work so hard to get a woman to go on a drive with him, let alone anything else. But she’d showed him the gold standard of relationships, her parents, and he’d discovered he’d have to come with it or go home if he wanted her to want him in return. It hadn’t been hard to fall in love with Bevin so quickly; but it had freaked her out, she who’d resolved herself to spinsterhood at the age of twenty-seven.

  And now she was a married mother of soon-to-be two.

  His hands molded over her swell, of the child she was growing within her. He’d been fascinated when Kerry was inside of her, and he was no less fascinated now. It blew his mind how someone so small, comparatively speaking, could do something so mighty. He helped save the world on an almost quarterly basis, but he could never do what she did.

  It was humbling as hell.

  “You want it to be a girl?” she asked, trailing her fingers through his curly blond locks.

  He smirked at her, pressing a little against Bevin’s belly so he could feel his child move. When he did, his smirk softened into a smile and he kissed Bevin’s navel.

  “I want it healthy and happy and whole. If it’s a girl, though, I’ll have to quit the Teams.”

  Bevin snorted and laughed, shaking her head. “You’re a Neanderthal! Ulrich has a girl and he’s still a SEAL!”

  “Rosita is also Sancha’s mother,” Tim reminded her.

  “This is a true and accurate statement—Rosita’s crazy!” Bevin said, guiding his head from her belly up her body as he kissed her torso. She moaned when his lips found her nipples through her tank and suckled on them briefly. She had the most gorgeous pair of breasts he’d ever seen in his life, particularly when she was pregnant. She began squirming and Tim groaned, grasping her hips to keep her still; but then he caved to his own desires and teased his thumbs along her slick cleft, pulling the crotch of her panties aside.

  Bevin’s breath hitched and he grew harder in his pants. They’d needed to come off hours ago, but he’d been too distracted with worry, relief, anger, lust, love.

  “My test…” Bevin trailed off, helping him get as unclothed as she was, but he went for broke instead of stopping at the underwear stage. He dragged the tip of his hardness against her exposed slit, and her legs opened wider.

  “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, Bevin; I can’t believe you’re mine,” he breathed. Bevin reared up to kiss him, and he grasped her to him so she wouldn’t fall back. Instead, she straddled his hips and bent backward over his arms because their height difference had made him lean forward to kiss her as he wanted—completely and totally. Bevin moved her head away
so she could remove her tank, her breasts bouncing out of the shelf bra and onto her torso. Tim immediately cupped one of the topsoil globes in his hand, nipples hard and the color of onyx against such sable skin. She was his personal garden; no other seed but his would take inside of her, and it made the horticulturist in him want to strut.

  “In your mouth,” she gasped, pressing her chest against his palms. “I want them in your mouth!”

  His lip curled with lust and pride. She’d certainly learned how to own her sensuality during the time they’d been married. She’d almost been scared of it when they’d first begun discovering each other, unused to having such powerful feelings, let alone having them because of someone else or for someone else. Now she could be downright bossy at times, and Tim wouldn’t want her any other way. To know he could please her meant she would have no reason to stray, and he would have no reason to use his military training on civilians.

  Instead of going directly for her breasts, however, Tim nibbled her bottom lip first while positioning her over his length. His teeth and shaft teased both sets of her lips until she was groaning and seating herself fully onto him.

  “Fuck!” he gritted out, feeling the wet tightness of her around him. He’d missed being inside of her so much! This was the coming home he’d wanted—all the way home in his wife and her love. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he suckled upon it, mimicking her channel around his cock. Bevin began twisting her hips and he used his hands to help guide her. He loved it when she rode him, when he could cuddle her against him until every part of themselves was intimately connected. Humming his adoration for her, he finally began his descent from her mouth to her breasts, taking detours at the pulse point in her throat, laving each part of her clavicle with care, anointing the valley of her breasts with his tongue. Bevin cooed, keened, and gasped at his loving, her hands clenching and unclenching in his hair with the same rhythm her inner walls clenched and unclenched around his length. When he finally closed his mouth around one hardened nipple, her hand and walls gripped him hard.