“Ha!” she shouted, jumping in the air and pumping her arm up and down, victoriously.
Abdulla scrambled to his feet, charged her, and knocked her over. She landed hard, the wind knocked out of her. He grabbed her wrists and wrenched them up over her head, holding them firmly in his grasp.
“Not laughing now, are you?” Abdulla used his knee to separate her legs.
Jackson stood up and slowly approached them. Lillian was flushed and breathing deeply. Her chest heaving, her pupils dilated. She was afraid, plain and simple.
“Get off me!” she shouted as she squirmed underneath him.
“Oh yeah, just like that. Got to admit, I like it when they give a little resistance. I’d love to give you a go,” he whispered. “Do you know what’s stopping me?”
Lillian looked up at him. Unable to speak she merely shook her head.
“Nothing,” he said before grinding his hips into hers. “Lieutenant, we may need to rethink this arrangement. She’s really quite exquisite. And what is that smell?” He sniffed at her neck and collarbone. “Could it be desire I smell on your girl? I simply must have a taste. Feel free to watch.” He glanced up at Jackson and shrugged. “Or not, whichever you prefer.”
“Not sure I’m one to just stand by and watch, mate,” Jackson replied.
“Well, how about I have a go first, then you can join in. I don’t normally like to share my toys, but—”
Lillian leaned her head up and captured Abdulla’s lips in an enticing kiss, sweeping her tongue out along his lower lip, begging entrance.
Jackson froze in place.
“Ow!” Abdulla jerked back, releasing Lillian’s wrists. “She bit me!” He gingerly dabbed at his lip, and then examined his fingers. Not only had she bitten him, she’d drawn blood.
Lillian wasted no time. Now that her wrists were free, she brought one hand up, slightly curled the tips of her fingers under and jabbed forcefully with her knuckles at Abdulla’s Adam’s apple. His eyes filled with tears. He spontaneously choked and gagged as his windpipe was painfully constricted, momentarily cutting off his air.
Lillian bucked her hips, then twisted, throwing him off her. Before Abdulla could recover she was on him, straddling his chest and raining down a series of blows to his face, tears streaming down hers. “You bastard! How dare you!” she shouted.
Jackson approached them and pulled Lillian off Abdulla. For a few moments she continued to struggle against him, trying to break free and continue her assault.
“Christ, love! You kicked his ass! Good show!” Jackson shouted.
Lillian forced herself to calm down and cease her movements. Jackson set her on the ground and she turned to face him. “Good show?”
Abdulla sat up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “It was Jackson’s idea. He thought you wouldn’t let go and really defend yourself against me unless you felt truly threatened. We had to know if you’d be safe.” Abdulla winked at Jackson. “I think she passed.”
The look in Lillian’s eyes sent both men reeling. Before either of them could say another word, she stormed from the tent.
“Is it just me, or did that not go so well?” Abdulla asked.
“Shit! I better…”
Abdulla dabbed at his bloody lip. “Go.”
Jackson ran from the tent and looked around, frantically searching for Lillian. He spotted her heading towards their tent.
“Lillian!” Jackson caught up to her just before she stepped inside. “Didn’t you hear me calling to you?”
“Didn’t you notice me ignoring you?”
“Lillian—”
She held up her hand to stop him. “No. I can’t talk to you right now. I can’t even look at you right now.”
“Please! I need to explain!”
“You know what? You may find this very hard to believe but I don’t care about what you need right now. I’m tired and I’m upset. I’m going to bed. Goodnight!”
Lillian disappeared inside the tent, and Jackson followed.
As soon as he stepped through the entrance she was on him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Jackson stumbled back outside. “I was just going to get ready for bed.”
Lillian followed him, poking his chest with her finger. “You’re not sleeping here tonight. You, mister, are in the proverbial doghouse.”
“Where am I supposed to sleep?”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t care?”
Lillian looked like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to burst into tears or punch him.
“Don’t you think you’re over-reacting a bit? If you’ll just give me a minute to explain—”
“Over-reacting! Over-reacting?” Lillian spun around, stomped back inside the tent, and pulled the flap closed behind her and shouted, “Dumbass!”
“Bitch!”
The flap flew back open. “What did you call me?” They were standing toe to toe. Jackson could see the rage in her eyes. He could tell she was furious, but he was angry, too. He struggled to rein in his temper. His own breaths were coming fast. He took a step back and allowed his eyes to rake over her. She was positively glowing from the thin sheen of perspiration covering her body. He took in the movement of her chest as it rose and fell in time with her breaths. Next, he noticed how her tousled hair shimmered the moonlight. Finally, he looked into her eyes, beautiful green eyes reflecting the hurt he had stupidly inflicted.
“I shouldn’t have called you a bitch. You’re not a bitch.” He reached out to her. “Come on, baby, let’s kiss and make up.”
Lillian pulled her arm back and slapped him, hard, across the face. The resounding crack could be heard across the camp.
Jackson, stunned, reached up, immediately covering his cheek with his hand.
“You treated me like a whore tonight, Jackson. I am no one’s whore, especially not yours. I gave myself freely to you, I trusted you.” Lillian shook her head in sorrow.
“Lillian—”
It was no use. Whatever it was he had to say, she wasn’t interested in hearing it. She stepped back into the tent, closing the flap with a sense of finality that was almost gut-wrenching. Jackson’s would-be apology was left hanging in the air and he was left alone.
Chapter Ten
“Trouble in paradise?” came a voice from behind him.
Jackson spun around to find Ahmed standing there. “Don’t you bloody start with me!”
Ahmed held up his hands. “Whoa, tiger! I’m not starting anything. Thought perhaps you could use some company, or a place to stay.”
“Thanks ever so, but you’re really not my type.” Jackson sunk to a crouching position in the sand.
Ahmed sat down alongside of him, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and offered a drag to Jackson.
“No thanks, I like to keep a straight head.”
“Yes. That’s probably wise. Who knows what kind of foolish thoughts you would have or what kind of impulsive things you would say if you didn’t have a clear head?” Ahmed inhaled on his cigarette.
“You have no idea, mate.”
“I might have some idea.” Ahmed tilted his head to the side and listened for a moment. “She is crying.” Jackson nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
“You should go to her.”
“What do you recommend? Oh, I know, perhaps I should tie her up and torture her until she loves me again?”
Ahmed leaned forward so as to ensure no one passing by would hear his question. “You believe she has actually felt love for you?”
“Should that be a secret?” Jackson whispered.
“It is just very rare, Lieutenant. And, if it is something that a woman feels for her husband, it is rarely admitted to. I had a wife once, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
“We were married at age fifteen. I never told her I loved her.”
“Where is she now?”
Ahmed looked out into the distant night. “Dead. Killed by the Turks alo
ng with my two sons.”
“That’s why you agreed to help train the men. This is personal for you.”
“Yes,” Ahmed admitted. “And that’s why you did what you did tonight. I understand. You plan to bring her into battle. You fear for her life. It is personal for you, too, yes? You want to instill in her the understanding that years of fighting wars have brought to you. You want to teach her the skills that you’ve come to possess after almost a lifetime of being trained to defend yourself, to kill if necessary.” Ahmed paused and turned back to look Jackson in the eye. “How am I doing?” He offered the cigarette to him again.
This time, Jackson accepted it. He took a long drag before handing it back. “Seemed like a good plan at the time.”
“Tomorrow evening we go into battle, Lieutenant.”
Jackson exhaled. The smoke rose into the air in little rings before slowly dissipating.
Ahmed pointed to them. “Neat trick.”
Jackson shrugged. “It’s a gift. I can also wiggle my ears and make a perfect martini.” He raised his voice and turned towards the tent. “Most birds would consider me quite the catch.”
Ahmed smiled. “Lieutenant, if I had won the fight—”
“You didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.” He offered Jackson the cigarette once more. “But, if I had, do you know what I would be doing tonight?”
“No, Ahmed. Enlighten me.” Jackson took another drag.
“I would be doing everything I could to convince my wife that I loved her more than anything in this world, even more than life itself. I like to think I can learn from my mistakes. I was young and foolish. I thought I would have more time. I thought such words were unnecessary. I was wrong. You, Lieutenant, were wrong.” Ahmed retrieved his cigarette, stood up and brushed the sand from his robes. “You have some explaining to do.”
“Have you been eavesdropping? And are you sure you’re Arabian?”
“We live in tents, Lieutenant, there are few secrets here. And, yes, I am sure I am Arabian. Although, I am giving the idea of leaving Arabia after the war serious thought. Perhaps I can get a job giving relationship advice, what do you think?”
Jackson raised an eyebrow, rose to his feet, and reached out for Ahmed’s cigarette. “I think you’ve smoked enough for tonight.”
Ahmed pulled the cigarette back out of reach and defiantly lifted it to his lips. “Or maybe I’ll go and study with that Freud fellow.”
Jackson shook his head and chuckled. “You’re really something, you know that?”
“Yes, but alas, you’re already spoken for. See you in the morning, Lieutenant.”
“Just so as you know, I would have killed you for her,” said Jackson.
Ahmed nodded. “Of that, I have no doubt.” Then he walked off, into the darkness.
Jackson stood for a moment, alone. He could hear Lillian quietly crying from within. He looked up into the night’s sky and reflected on Ahmed’s words. Regardless of his intentions, he realized now, that he had made a grave mistake. His stomach churned.
“Coward!” he mumbled aloud. Then waited a moment, hoping the scolding would somehow inspire him, that he would suddenly know just what to do, or say. After coming up empty he turned towards the tent, took a deep breath, and cautiously stepped through the entrance.
Lillian’s back greeted him. She had disrobed and curled up under the blankets of their sleeping pallet. He could tell she was still crying.
Jackson undressed quietly, lifted the edge of the blanket, and crawled between the covers. He moved closer to her, but was careful not to touch her. He leaned up supporting his head with his hand and nervously cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry. What I did was wrong. It’s not the first bad call I’ve made in my life and it bloody well won’t be the last. But, Lillian, if you won’t forgive me, if you won’t let me explain, it will definitely have been the worst.”
He paused then, waiting for some response. When she neither turned over to face him nor pushed him away he continued.
“I was trying to create something close to a real battle situation, a situation where you would feel the need to defend yourself to the fullest. We’re going to war, love. I don’t want you to die. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. I went with what I thought would evoke the greatest emotional response. It’s one of the things I’m good at, reading people, homing in on their fears and weaknesses and using it. I needed to know what you were capable of.”
He paused again, unsure as to how to continue.
“I trusted you,” she said quietly.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Lillian turned to face him and he was almost grateful that he couldn’t see the disappointment on her face in the darkness.
“If you could do it all over again you’d make the same choice, wouldn’t you? To deceive me, I mean.”
“Yes,” he said, honestly. “More than anything in this world, I want to get you home alive.”
“And you’d even betray me, sacrifice my trust in you to accomplish that.”
Jackson swallowed. “Yes. I love you.”
“I love you, too. And that’s why what you did hurt so much.” Lillian brought her hand up and cupped Jackson’s cheek. “You, Jackson Crawford, have the capacity to break my heart.”
“I’ll try not to.” He reached up to press her hand more firmly to his face. “But if it comes down to a choice, me or you, I’m going to choose you.”
“What if I’d rather die with you, than live without you?”
“I’ll choose you,” he said simply. “I’ll always choose you.”
“Make love to me, Jackson?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, unless you don’t want me?”
“How could I not want you? Of course I want you. It’s just, what you said earlier bothered me. I don’t want you to ever feel like a whore. You are precious to me, Lillian. I feel horrible. I don’t deserve you.”
“Shh.” Lillian sat up, the thin sheet pooling at her waist. She then slid the sheet down the length of his body, leaving him fully exposed to the night air. Maneuvering between his legs, she leaned up to kiss his chest. Her silky hair brushed across his torso as she moved lower, taking one dusky nipple in her mouth and flicking it with her tongue.
Jackson’s conflicting feelings of pleasure and guilt were close to overwhelming. He didn’t know how to respond. A part of him wanted nothing more than to get lost in her touch, the feel of her breath on his skin, the smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth. But another part of him was ashamed, ashamed to take from her so freely. To take so eagerly what he clearly hadn’t earned.
“How can you forgive me?” he asked, his voice constricted from emotion.
She paused and looked up at him. “I don’t want to go off tomorrow being angry at one another. I need your strength and your love to get through this. I need you, Jackson. I thought—” Lillian paused for a moment, as she struggled to find the right words.
Jackson leaned up, his elbows supporting him. He waited patiently for her to continue. Finally, she did.
“I thought you might feel the same way. That you might need me tonight as much as I need you.”
“I do,” said Jackson.
“I don’t want to deny either of us that. As angry and hurt as I am, I still love you. I still want you.” Lillian resumed her trail of kisses down his stomach. “Let me show you how much.”
She moved so that she was poised, sitting between his knees, his cock in front of her. He was still relatively soft, but his cock twitched as she reached out and wrapped her hand around the base. She leaned over him, then closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek along his shaft and across the glans.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to do this.” Lillian tilted his cock slightly away from her, then she stuck out her tongue and eagerly licked up the length of his shaft.
Jackson’s breath hitched.
“Does that feel good?”
“God, yes!”
She smiled. Emboldened, Lillian parted her lips and slid his rapidly hardening cock inside her mouth.
“That’s it, love. Use your hand to help control the depth. Think of it as an extension of your mouth. Spit is good, the more the better.”
Lillian began to move her hand and mouth up and down as if they were one, twisting on the upstroke and occasionally brushing across the head.
“Christ!”
Lillian relaxed her throat muscles and took him in even deeper. “Mmmm,” she moaned, creating a slight vibration deep in her throat.
Jackson reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair. “It feels so good. Don’t… Oh, Lillian!” Jackson leaned his head back and clawed at the bedding with both of his hands, desperately struggling to maintain control.
Lillian backed off and his fully engorged erection popped from her mouth. “Are you all right?”
Jackson looked up. “You’re stopping?”
“I don’t want to,” she whispered. Then she swept her tongue in a circular motion, around the head. She teased him, licking and sucking.
His breathing became less ragged and he reached down, entwining his hand in the long tresses of her hair and pulling it out of the way.
“God, I wish I could watch you.” He was rock-hard and about to burst just imagining what it looked like, envisioning it as his cock sunk deep into her luscious mouth. Over and over.
She moaned, making her throat rumble slightly before exhaling and taking him in, all the way in. Then she moved her attention to his balls
“Oh, yeah! Just like that.”
She rolled them gently in her mouth, first one, then the other, lapping and licking, cradling them in her hand.
“Lillian, love!”
With enthusiasm, she swallowed his cock, taking him again into her mouth and beginning an intense, rhythmic cycle, massaging him with her throat, licking, pulling away.
“Stop, I’m gonna—”
He expected her to pull away, but instead she redoubled her efforts.
“Stop!” Jackson grabbed hold of her hair, preventing her from taking him in again. “I want to come inside of you.” He sat up, quickly lowered her onto the pallet, and slid inside of her now sopping channel. “Jesus, Lillian. You’re so wet.”
The Soldier & The Spy Page 11