Pieces of Paisley

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “Happiness doesn’t explain how I feel right now.”

  “You can reward me when we get home.” She winks at me, and I don’t know where that insecure girl went. When I left her I wasn’t sure we would be having a conversation like this, but she kicked that girl to the curb and brought back my Paisley. I plan on rewarding her, multiple times.

  She directs me to the apartment building and we head inside. She leads me to my bedroom, which somehow she has furnished and put together. I don’t have time to ask before she pushes me back on the bed. I try and slow her down because she is still going to be tight, and we can’t rush this. She has had sex one time and all of a sudden she is Jenna Jameson. “Slow down, Paisley. What has gotten into you?”

  “I’ve been reading Cosmo and ‘how to please your man’ books. Plus, Kara is a wealth of knowledge. I love her to death, but you know, she was kind of a ho before Rick. The shit she told me . . . they are kinky as fuck.” I know this situation doesn’t call for it, but I laugh uncontrollably. Cosmo? Books? Kara? I could have done without the Kara and Rick info, but damn this girl will never stop surprising me. The laughter dies on my lips when she removes her shirt, bra, jeans, and begins removing her panties. When those land in my face, and I inhale her scent, all bets are off.

  I tug her down on the bed with me, and as I start kissing her collarbone to her ear and gently bite down, it elicits a moan from her that goes straight to my cock. I bite a bit firmer and she is squirming underneath me, reaching for my shirt at the same time. I sit back and take off my shirt, when I hear her voice, “All of it. I want it all off.” Ask and you shall receive. I strip down and go back to work with my lips. After each kiss, I drag my tongue and teeth over the same spot. I start with her neck and work down to her right nipple. Once I am happy with that, I give ample attention to her left nipple. They are both standing at firm peaks, so I pinch them firmly and tug once as I release them. “Holy shit, baby. Don’t stop.” Oh, my girl has gotten vocal since I have been gone. I don’t stop and descend down her body, grazing on her stomach and reaching the core of her.

  I feel her try to bring her legs together, and I am not having any of that. “Relax, Pais.” I push her legs open and gently lick up her slit. When she moans and relaxes her legs, I follow that motion a few more times. She grips the comforter, and I quit playing with her. I suck her clit in my mouth and nip at it. When her head starts thrashing from side to side, I add two fingers and work them in and out of her while never releasing her clit from my mouth. When she clamps down around me, clenching around my fingers and screaming my name, I release her from my mouth, withdraw my finger, and slam my dick into her. I probably shouldn’t be so rough, but holy fucking shit that was more than I could take.

  I take her mouth and swallow her moans. I reach in between us and rub her clit while I never slow my relentless pounding. She is meeting me thrust for thrust, and when I feel her tightening around me once again, I push in harder and faster and release myself in her. Once I catch my breath, I look at her, “For fuck’s sake, beautiful, are you trying to kill me?”

  “Nope,” she giggles. “You said practice makes perfect, and I was the only one with no practice, so I read and researched a lot, and I have been waiting to detonate for the past two damn weeks, baby.” I wrap her in my arms and pull the covers around us. When I wake up later and my cock is in the back of her throat, I think I may order her a subscription to Cosmo, a lifetime fucking subscription.

  Chapter 11

  Paisley

  A woman knows the face of the man she loves as a sailor knows the open sea.

  Honore de Balzac

  I don’t know if it is really appropriate for me at age seventeen to be thinking the words ‘domestic bliss,’ but those are the only words I can use to describe how this weekend is progressing. I get to spend the entire night in his arms, wake up to his kisses, and hear his voice telling me he loves me. I sent him to the store with a specific list of items so I can cook dinner for him tonight. I set the folding table and make it look the best I can. As Jake walks in the door with a dozen roses and my bag of ingredients, he bends down to kiss me, and I think to myself ‘I could get used to this.’

  I looked up a recipe for cube steak online, and it looks easy enough and goes with the mashed potatoes I am making. I hope I can pull off the gravy; I probably should have had him buy the package gravy. I may be getting over-ambitious here.

  “Beautiful, if you want to keep cooking for me like this, then we need to get a real table.” Wow, we are actually being domestic.

  “Sure thing. Sounds great,” I reply back to him, keeping an eye on the potatoes that aren’t boiling so I can mash them. The meat is slowly shrinking and charring. I quickly glance at Jake to make sure he isn’t witnessing my epic fail. He is watching some game on the television, and I start scrolling through recipes trying to find out where I went wrong and nothing is making sense. I get the flour and milk out to start the gravy, thinking I can cover the mess with gravy . . . everything tastes better with gravy . . . right? From the looks of my gravy, it definitely won’t be making anything look better or taste better. Salt. Salt always works. As I am frantically shaking salt over everything on the stove, I hear chuckling behind me. I turn around so quickly I burn my elbow on the eye of the stove.

  “Son of a whore-dog bitch.”

  “Let me see, Paisley.” He gently examines it and grabs some ice and places it over the blister forming as he reaches around me to turn off the burners. “Pizza?”

  I refuse to answer. I will not admit defeat. I grab a fork and start testing the potatoes to see if they are soft enough to peel and mash. I have my answer when the fork won’t pierce them. “Shit!”

  “It’s fine, babe.”

  “But I wanted to make you dinner,” I whine.

  “Pizza is fine. What were you trying to make?”

  “Cube steak, mashed potatoes and gravy,” I am stating that way too proudly especially when I glance at the end result.

  “Beautiful, you know you have to peel and cut up the potatoes before you boil them?”

  “What?” I grab my phone and start to frantically search the recipe for mashed potatoes. “It states clearly, right here, boil potatoes until soft.”

  “You missed the whole top part, where it states, explicitly, peel and dice potatoes.”

  I glare at him and return to studying the recipe. “Well, great. The ad on this page is distracting and misleading. I missed an entire part of each of these recipes.” Once he pointed out the mistake I made on the potatoes, I flipped back to the cube steak recipe. Totally missed the part that said cook on medium-low heat, covered in water and oil for an hour before browning each side. “Pizza it is,” I begrudgingly tell him. I want to cry out of frustration, but when he starts laughing and wiping my cheek I lose my train of thought.

  “You have some flour right here,” he continues to rub at my cheek.

  “All I need is the apron, and I would be like the little wife at home.”

  “That will work just fine for me, one day, Pais. One day.” He is so sincere I don’t have a doubt in my mind I will be his, forever. We enjoy our pizza and revel in the feeling of solitude we have. Rick’s leave is fourteen days, so other than the nights I have to go home, we can go back to our bubble. We flourish better there. I am going to beg my mom to overlook the weekday curfew and see if she will just let me stay with Jake for the next two weeks. Once Rick and Kara get home, it will be Jake’s leave and Christmas.

  Later that night when it is time for bed I watch Jake strip out of his shirt and shorts, my mouth waters, but truthfully I am sore. We have been more than adventurous and made up for lots of time away in the last twenty-four hours. “I think I am going to watch a movie in the living room, I am not tired yet,” I lie to him. I just never want to deny him.

  “Come here,” he demands of me. When I don’t immediately follow his command, he softens his voice, “Beautiful, what’s wrong?” I am so stupid for not saying �
��Screw being sore’ and just letting it happen.

  “Nothing, Jake. I just won’t be able to fall asleep, and I don’t want to keep you up.”

  “You will keep me up not being in my arms. Why can’t you stay with me and watch a movie from bed.” I am wracking my brain coming up with an excuse when he uses my distraction against me. He made his way over to me without me even knowing, and he wraps his arms around me, and my cheek meets his bare chest. “What is wrong, Paisley?”

  “I am really sore, and we can’t have sex, and I don’t want to be the girlfriend who denies you and then you go looking for it somewhere else.” I have opened the vault of truth and the words flow out.

  He pushes me back and tilts my face upwards. “Beautiful, don’t ever feel like you have to have sex with me to sleep in my arms. Every time you give yourself to me it is a gift, I never expect it. Do I love it? Hell, yes. Will I be fine if I don’t get it tonight, or any night you don’t feel like it? I will be just fine, and any night I get you in my arms, sex or no sex is the best night of my life.”

  Damn this ache in my vagina. Those words make me want to jump on him and do naughty things, but walking is really not overrated, and if I did what I wanted I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow, and it is family night. I don’t think my step-dad would appreciate me walking in the house bow-legged with a boyfriend who just got off deployment and is hornier than a four-balled tomcat. So I will refrain from the images playing in my head. Neither of us says a word as he pulls me to the edge of the bed and gently takes off my shirt and bra, never making it sexual. Sensual as hell, he has me on high alert, but it is more of him tending to me, showing me I am his priority, not sex. He grabs one of his t-shirts and pulls it over my head, then removes my pants and pulls back the covers. Once I get in bed he asks which movie I want to watch.

  “None, I was making excuses so I didn’t have to tell you.”

  “Pais, I told you about that. You have to share with me. If we are going to make this work, I need to be able to trust that you will tell me when something is wrong, and you have to trust me to always put you first.” I don’t have words for him, so I reach my arms out to him. He quickly turns out the light and climbs in bed. Once he is settled on his back, he pulls me as tightly to his side as he can, and my head finds the spot between his shoulder and neck. I inhale and give him a quick kiss. I settle down and feel myself losing the battle to sleep with Jake’s fingers playing in my hair. The last thing I hear is him whispering, “I love you Paisley Hull.” I fall into a deep sleep and wake up refreshed and ready to tolerate my parents for dinner, and hopefully I will be returning to the apartment to play house with Jake.

  The morning flies by and we decide to butter my mom up and show up early. I can tell by the surprise on her face that she wasn’t expecting us. “I figured you lovebirds would be enjoying some quiet time,” my mom states.

  “I came to see if you needed some help.” I am so full of shit I am surprised my eyes aren’t brown.

  “I want it noted, if she helps with the edible stuff, I hope everyone likes pizza,” Jake adds. I elbow him in the gut, and he laughs and goes to watch the game with Marcus.

  “I take it making dinner didn’t go well last night?” my mom asks me.

  “You would be correct in assuming that.” I smirk at her. It isn’t like with Jake’s comment that wasn’t obvious. “I missed the first half of instructions on both dishes, so we had pizza.”

  “Why don’t you make sweet tea and salad? Neither of those are a staple of our dinner.” I am tempted to scream ‘Screw you’ at all of them, but then I remember I want something from my mom.

  I start the tea and pull out the salad stuff from the refrigerator. “Hey, Mom. I have a favor?”

  “How much is it going to cost me?” I laugh at her.

  “Nothing, I promise.”

  “Just spill it, Paisley.” She is getting frustrated with me.

  “Since Rick and Kara are on leave for two weeks, and Jake leaves for Christmas leave, I was wondering if I could stay over at the apartment with him.”

  She doesn’t immediately answer me. “Pais, I am not comfortable with you moving in with him.”

  “I am not moving in with him. Just playing house for two weeks. Please, Mom. He just got home, this is the last time we will be totally in our world, all alone, for a long time.” I can tell she is relenting, so I add for extra measure, “We will eat over here twice a week for dinner and his duty nights I will be home so I am not alone.”

  “Twice a week on top of the Sunday requirement.”

  “Yes, Mom. But we aren’t staying all night. He has to leave earlier for work now that he lives so far from base.”

  “Fair enough. Dinner will be ready by five so that gives you plenty of time to have conversation and food, then get home in plenty of time to rest.” Sometimes I am really lucky to have the mother I do.

  “Thank you so much. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Paisley.”

  I run out into the living room where my step-dad and Jake are watching the game. I jump in his lap, and he chuckles at me. Bringing my mouth to his ear I whisper, “I have good news.” Raising his eyebrows at me inquisitively I let him in on the new arrangement. “I can stay with you for the next two weeks, except nights you have duty, then I am to be under this roof, and we have to have dinner here two nights a week plus Sunday.” I make sure to keep my voice low, as I am letting my mom explain that news to my step-dad after I am safely tucked away in Jake’s apartment and his arms later that night.

  Dinner went off without a hitch, and I thank my lucky stars that my mom decided until we left to break the news to Marcus. She told me the next day she was afraid they were going to end up in the Emergency Room because she was sure his blood pressure was through the roof. He calmed down by the time I spent the night over there when Jake had duty. He wasn’t thrilled, but relented when I pointed out it was really not much different than me spending weekends over there, this was just an exception, not a regular thing.

  The next two weeks fly by with us watching movies, cuddling, sex, eating, and cooking, sex, laughter, and more sex. The day has crept up on me, and now I am taking him to the airport to say good-bye, yet again. I know this time will be easier because we can talk as much as we want, and he is going to his mom’s and not a third world country. I hate we will be apart for Christmas, but I am also secure in the belief that we will have many more Christmases and holidays in our future spent together. It is much easier to kiss him good-bye this time.

  “What, no tears this time, beautiful?”

  “Nothing to cry about. I will miss you, but it is different this time.” I tell him exactly what I have been thinking.

  “Still sucks. I feel I just got you back in my arms and now I have to let you go for a bit. I wish you could come home with me.”

  “I wish I could too, but just think, we will have many more holidays to spend together. Eventually, we will have to split our holidays with our families and here is a hint . . . my mom prefers Thanksgiving, she is weird like that.”

  He gives me his cocky smile and puffs his chest out. He is extremely satisfied with himself. “That is right, Paisley. We have a lifetime of holidays ahead of us. Love you.”

  I give him one last kiss before I send him through security. “Love you, too.” I stand here until he disappears in the crazy crowd, and then I turn to go home and smile with myself that I snuck his present in his bag, and he was none the wiser. As I drive home, I crank up my radio and smile as I let the music float out in the air. I am so lucky and I promise not to take it for granted.

  Chapter 12

  Jake

  Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

  William Shakespeare

  I step off the plane and nostalgia hits me. I miss this place. It is where I grew up, and it is where I want to grow old. I know Paisley said we have a lifetime ahead of us, and I have two more years left
in the Navy, but I wonder how she will feel about moving to Kansas. I don’t see me living anywhere else, and I hope she will be happy here. I have plans; complete my enlistment, marry Paisley, come home and join my dad’s security firm, live a full and happy life on a few acres and retire with the love of my life by my side. Kids used to factor in to my long-term goal, but not anymore. I always dreamed of a few kids, running around my legs, Sunday morning breakfasts, t-ball games, and football practices, whatever they wanted to do. Now I added Paisley to the equation, and it may sadden me to not add kids to our future, it is for the best. I love my mom, and she is an amazing woman, but watching her struggle and scrimp to raise me has tarnished the image of having kids. I know it would be different with Paisley and I because I would never leave her side, but Lisa happened . . . not something I dwell on, but not something I can forget.

  I make my way down the terminal towards baggage claim, and I see my mom bouncing on the balls of her feet waiting to launch herself at me. I see Brian, my step-dad, right behind her beaming like a proud father. He didn’t come into my life until high school, but you would never know it by the way he treats me. It is almost as if he was my biological father. He bragged to his friends about my service to the country, he was at every football game in high school, helped me fix up my first car, and gave me advice on sex and girls. He basically did everything my dad didn’t. I barely have time to brace myself before my mom launches herself in the air and I catch her. Brian follows behind her and claps me on the shoulder, “Welcome home, Son.” It doesn’t bother me when he calls me that; it makes me feel worthy.

  My mom is crying, “Jake, I have missed you so much. I am so glad you are home, I get so scared when you go on deployment.” I know this, she tells me often enough. I set her down and kiss her cheek.

  “I am fine, Mom. It hasn’t been that long.” She had flown in to see me in April, right before I was put in the brig. I was in the hospital for a few days after the fight and my jaw was wired shut so she would make me smoothies I could drink through a straw. Although she didn’t voice her disappointment in me at the time, I saw it glimmering in her eyes. She was pensive, afraid to say what she wanted, and she hates my temper. I try to reel it in around her, but she will call me on my shit, more so than Paisley does. My mom is somewhat a pro at dealing with my anger. She has witnessed it on more than one occasion, but no matter what, she is there for me. That is why it is so important for her to like Paisley and leave the Lisa dilemma in the past.