Dark Corners

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Dark Corners Page 14

by A. m Madden


  David

  “You drive.”

  “Nope.”

  “Come on. I drove the last run.”

  “And I drove the two runs before that.” I didn’t give him a choice, and walked over to the passenger side of the Humvee.

  “Suck my dick, Cavello,” he said, still standing behind the hatch pathetically, waiting for me to take the wheel.

  “I prefer pussy, but thanks.” Gunner looked down at me from his perch, failing to hide his grin. I grinned back, got into the passenger seat, and settled in. Confident he’d be over it before we hit the first zone of action, I watched as he moved around toward the driver’s side, still shooting me an indignant look as he did.

  When I laughed at him, he said, “I fucking hate you, Cavello.”

  “Aw, is that any way to talk to the love of your life, Price?”

  Private First Class Bartholomew F. Price III was my best friend in that hell we were in. If it weren’t for me, he would’ve gone postal by then. I was his voice of reason, the logic that the desert heat baked right out of his skull. The little voice in his head that constantly said, “Don’t fucking do it, dude,” as his finger itched to pull the trigger—that was me.

  “If I have to drive then it’s my music.”

  With an arrogant smirk, he flipped on the radio to his God-awful rap music crap. Determined to not give him the satisfaction, I returned an arrogant smirk of my own.

  We wordlessly waited for the rest of our caravan to position behind us. It was hot as fuck. The sweat poured down my body, making my fatigues so wet and my skin so damp, goosebumps riddled every exposed surface. You know the kind of heat that rips at your flesh, making it feel like you stepped into a blazing furnace? When the air is so thick, each breath you take feels like smog from a toxic fire?

  Like being in hell.

  As Barry closed the distance between base and the hotbox we were heading to in Baiji, I gripped the helmet on my head in an attempt to control the migraine that instantly began to pound behind my eyes. It was always the same pounding pain that came on suddenly from the combination of the heat, the mission, and the fact that it all could end at any moment.

  The place that we’d call home for the next four days was a shithole. Our mission: to secure the area for the officer convoy traveling through from Baghdad to Mosul, and stay alive while doing it.

  “Gunner, all clear?” I asked into my tactical microphone, as the abandoned buildings came closer and closer to the convoy.

  “Clear at twenty meters out.”

  The whirl of the turret above our vehicle as Gunner, aka Williams, scanned the terrain in his scope made it hard to hear the familiar chatter coming over the dashboard speaker—coordinates, convoy position instructions, all routine and necessary when approaching the hotbox.

  The tank in front gained ground, leaving an unacceptable gap between our Humvee and their tail. My eyes studied from left to right, watching, waiting for any movement from the dust-riddled façades that were barely standing. Everything was beige, the ground, the buildings, the air. Fucking blah…no color, no life.

  I faintly heard the metal ping that forced my eyes to cut over to Barry.

  “Price, drive.”

  Our Humvee continued to slow as his head lolled back at an odd angle…and I knew. I knew why, yet I still barked, “Price, stop fucking around!”

  Maybe he was fucking around?

  Maybe the prick thought it’d be funny to pretend he’d been hit?

  Maybe the next bullet was coming for me?

  In slow motion, a blood-red serpent traveled from under his helmet and slinked over the curve of his face, slowed over the terrain of his stubble, and then continued to roll until it disappeared into the collar of his fatigues.

  “Barry!”

  Maygen

  His arm flew toward mine and his hand clamped down around my wrist. His hold on me was painful, and grew tighter the more I tried to remove my hand.

  “David. David…”

  At the sound of his name his eyes flew open. A few long seconds passed before he released his grip and turned to look at me. Instinctively, I rubbed the spot he let go, causing his brow to wrinkle in confusion.

  “Maygen.” He immediately sat up, pulling me onto his lap. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, while his eyes surveyed my face.

  “No. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Placing a hand on the back of my head, he silenced my words by pulling me to his chest. I could feel his heart racing against my face with each of his short, shallow breaths.

  “I’m fine, David. I promise you.” At my admission he released his hold, allowing me to stare into his eyes. “Did you sleep out here all night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  An emotion I couldn’t decipher passed through his eyes. He lifted me off his lap, placing me on the couch beside him. I waited for him to answer, but instead he stood and walked toward his small kitchen.

  Tension rolled off him in waves. I suddenly felt like I was completely invading his privacy. Unsure if I should follow or give him the space he obviously needed, I remained seated, waiting for clarity to hit. Even with the smell of coffee slowly permeating the air, or when his large body appeared in the doorway as he returned my gaze, clarity still wasn’t presenting itself.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he finally said, misjudging my reaction.

  “You didn’t scare me.” In the way he shook his head, it was obvious he didn’t believe me. His eyes tracked my every move as I stalked over to where he stood. “I wasn’t scared,” I repeated.

  “Stop pretending this is all normal.”

  “I’m not pretending.”

  “I had a death grip on you. You’re all of what, a hundred pounds soaking wet?”

  “You wouldn’t have hurt me.”

  “Not even I know that, Maygen. I came out here to avoid that possibility and to protect you from me. And so what happens? I put you at risk anyway, and could have seriously hurt you.” He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes as he did. “Stop trying to tell me that doesn’t scare you.”

  “I am not a little child who easily spooks. All my life I’ve had to deal with my father making me feel like I’m a fragile piece of glass, and I’m not about to have you treat me the same way.”

  I stormed off toward his bedroom to retrieve my phone. When I returned, he looked bewildered at my behavior. Thrusting the phone closer to his face I barked, “See that? See all those texts and calls? Those are from my so-called friend and my dad, and I’ve had it with men thinking I can’t walk and talk on my own without their help. So, cut the damsel-in-distress crap or else, David Cavello.” I emphasized my point by poking his rock-hard chest with my finger and he fought a grin.

  “Or else what?” he asked, amused.

  “I’ll kick your ass.”

  In a flash move, he snatched my phone and pulled me against his practically naked body. With his lips a few inches from mine, he rasped out, “I’d love to see you try.”

  The swell of his cock pushed against my belly, and if I had been wearing panties they would’ve been drenched. The way his gaze dropped to my lips caused all my anger to fly out my pulsing pussy.

  He didn’t move while continuing to silently challenge me. I let a small smile spread over my lips right before I took matters into my own hands. I crushed my lips against his, and his returning groan signaled the response I was hoping for. I practically tried to climb him like a tree, and as I did my phone clattered to the ground when both his hands gripped my ass.

  Without breaking our kiss, David moved us until my back was against his apartment door. I felt a hand leave my ass, move between our bodies, and then what I felt was a delicious surge of fullness as he shoved himself deep inside me.

  “Fuck,” he said through clenched teeth. His nostrils flared with each thrust he made. This was the hard fuck I expected, and as he impaled me he made it impossible to think straight.

  “Get
there, Maygen,” he commanded, replacing his hand on my ass. His hold tightened with each thrust.

  “I don’t want to; it feels too good.”

  He didn’t seem amused. His skin felt slick under my grip as sweat broke out over his body. I fought hard to hold off my climax, not wanting it to end quite yet. Having him in this position was the hottest sex I’d ever had in my life.

  “You’re so stubborn,” he managed to say through his grunts. Raising a brow, he once again removed his hand from my ass to begin circling my clit with his fingertips. Sparks instantly coursed from his fingers straight through my entire body. Four seconds, that’s all it took for him to get what he wanted so badly.

  I came so hard, so fast, it felt as if I blacked out during it. Behind my closed lids I could see white flashes of light. I knew from his sounds he was right behind me. The last thing he murmured against my neck before he stilled while buried deep inside me was something along the lines of “I’m a fucking goner.”

  —

  Fearing my dad would have filed an APB with my uncle George, I went into the bedroom to call him as David made us breakfast.

  “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Of course not. Good morning.”

  “Seriously, Maygen. Where have you been?”

  I had to fight the urge to admit I was sitting on David’s bed wearing his shirt and nothing else after having had the best door sex I’d ever had in my life. But that would be sure to give him a heart attack.

  “Dad, that’s none of your business. I’m fine, though.”

  “Well, thanks for letting me know. You need to thank your uncle, who got the brunt of my worrying this morning.” A very heavy sigh came over the line. “Look at it from my perspective, Maygen. There you were with a man you never mentioned once, and you disappeared without a goodbye only to not answer any of our calls. But you’re right. It’s none of my business.”

  “I did say goodbye.”

  “A wave across the room does not constitute a proper goodbye.”

  “Okay, I’m hanging up now. Don’t forget, I’m catching a ride with you to the Hamptons for Christmas. Love you.”

  “How can I forget that? Love you, too.”

  David knocked on the door just as I was about to emerge. “Hey, everything okay with your dad?”

  “Yeah. My uncle George had to talk him off a ledge. Welcome to my world.” He gave me a half smile before tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “Ready to eat?” Taking my hand, he led me to his couch.

  “It smells delicious.” On the coffee table were two plated omelets, two mugs of coffee, juice, and a small plate of fruit.

  “David, this is lovely.” I sat beside him and looked over when he didn’t respond. He looked embarrassed, which was absolutely adorable. This must not have been a common occurrence, as in have hot sex and then make the chick breakfast afterward.

  We ate side by side, asking each other questions.

  “So, tell me how you met George.”

  Shaking his head with a sigh, he looked reluctant to share details. I waited him out, wanting to know the long story he alluded to the night before at the party.

  “Well, my sister’s ex-boyfriend was trouble. He was nothing but a model boyfriend when he dated my sister through college. His abusive ways surfaced years later, and so did the fact his family was in the mob.”

  “The mob?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  I tried to channel my anxiety, no longer wanting to know the details behind this story. He watched my reaction before continuing.

  “Angela met Nick in Chicago. He was there undercover working a case; she was planning to run away to New York to escape Ronnie. Once I got home and found out what he had put her through, I wanted to fucking kill him with my bare hands. It wasn’t like having a civilized sit-down conversation warning him to stay away from my sister was even an option. He was a fucking mobster. The situation needed to be handled delicately. I murdered many men in the name of war, but killing a mobster wasn’t something I wanted to get pinned for. So instead, I insinuated to another mob family that Ronnie was looking to take control of their illegal gun ring out of New York. With a few incriminating pictures and the help of my cousin Luca and good friend Silas, I was able to remain on the sidelines manipulating the battles. Surprisingly, it was easy to start a mob war over territory between Ronnie and the other family that ran New York. Someone took the bait that I dangled, and conveniently killed the motherfucker.”

  I sat stunned, not knowing what to say.

  David waited a pause before adding, “Anyway, that’s when I first met Nick and George, and after I was cleared as a suspect we all became friends.

  “So, now do you want to run?” he asked. The look on his face, combined with his question, made me laugh.

  “No. I’m not running.”

  “Good.”

  “Is that it? All your surprises?”

  He rubbed his jaw while in deep thought. “No. Little doses. I don’t want you running.”

  He lightened the mood, bringing up Christmas and what his plans were. I wondered, if we had met sooner, would we be spending it together? As he shared a funny story about his nephew, Nicholas, I pictured him sitting on the ground allowing the little guy to run toy trucks over his arms and legs.

  The more time I spent with David, the more I saw the vulnerable man inside. His cockiness was a shield he hid behind. I had a feeling this man sitting on the couch beside me in nothing but a T-shirt and boxer briefs was the real David. When you stripped away all the hardness, you were left with a sweet, kind, caring person. I saw it the first day we met, when he offered me his scarf to clean myself up. And so many times since then in the tiny little things he did. The random acts weren’t practiced or perfected. They were spontaneous and real.

  Remembering his words after our earlier tryst, he had it all wrong….I was the goner.

  I pushed my plate away, feeling completely sated in every way. “That was definitely the most delicious omelet I’ve ever eaten. You’re a really good cook. I can’t cook to save my life.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “In the army, you kind of learn quickly how to whip up something edible from crap.”

  “Well, thank you for the best breakfast, and for the best se—” I halted my words while nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. A blush I couldn’t help caused one of his eyebrows to jerk up in amusement.

  “And for the best…what?”

  “Juice and…coffee…”

  “You’re welcome. But it seemed like you were about to say something else.” He folded his arms, waiting for me to spit it out. “Sounded like—and for the best se?”

  “No, you heard wrong.”

  “Is that so?” A smug grin spread over his face. “Se. Hmm. What words start sounding like se?” He ran a hand over the top of his head, pretending to ponder what I meant to say. “Se…se…wait, were you about to say the best sex?”

  “Okay, don’t get cocky over it.”

  “Well, cocky sort of has a lot to do with it. But, you know what?” He leaned closer, looking from side to side in an exaggerated manner. “I feel the same way.”

  My heart flipped at his response, even though I knew he was teasing me.

  “Ha-ha…very funny.” I stood up and grabbed our plates to walk them to the kitchen. Just as I placed them in the sink, his large body pressed up behind me. He moved my hair away from my shoulder and murmured against my neck.

  “I’m not laughing.” I felt his lips draw the skin below my ear into a soft suckle. He then dragged his mouth down toward my shoulder and gently bit down. “What are your plans today?” he asked between sucks and bites.

  “Um…” My hands held his forearms where they wrapped around my torso. He was driving me insane.

  “Um?” he prodded.

  “Oh…Christmas shopping.”

  “That sounds awful.” He moved over to my left shoulder and repeated the pattern. “I have a bet
ter idea.”

  Damn, if he keeps this up I’ll agree to anything.

  “What…um…hmm…what would that be?” I asked breathily.

  “We fuck until we can’t walk.”

  One hand traveled down my body and he slipped it under his shirt. With his mouth sucking my earlobe, his hand slowly teased me.

  I wanted to make a joke, but apparently I’d lost the ability to speak. What I managed was a combination squeak and groan. His next move was to fling me over his shoulder and carry me toward his bedroom with his large hand covering my bare ass.

  Chapter 19

  David

  Like a bad Christmas movie cliché, I sat in my rental car cursing the hordes of chipper, Santa-hat-wearing fuckers who clogged up the mall and all roads leading out of it. When I had to celebrate this greed-filled holiday, I was always one of those last-minute shoppers. But I truly felt no one else had the right to be. Thus they should get the fuck out of my way, and go home to their hot cocoa and Christmas carols.

  By the time I arrived at my parents’, I was close to three hours late.

  “How lovely of you to join us,” my mother chimed when she opened the door.

  “Hi, Ma. How about you move out of Jersey and spare me high blood pressure.”

  “Not happening.”

  Planting a big wet kiss on her cheek, I dropped what I was carrying and added, “Wait, I have more stuff to grab from the car.”

  My mom stood at the door staring at my rented black Prius before turning with an amused grin.

  “You bought a car?”

  “No, I rented it to come out here. I had too much shit to bring with me.”

  “David, mouth. Do you need help?”

  “Nope.”

  She watched from behind the glass storm door as I retrieved the last of my presents, as well as my duffel bag from the backseat. “How do you fit in that little box on wheels?”

  “With great difficulty, but it’s all they had on the lot.”

  Once I dumped the rest of my stuff on the floor in the corner, I pulled her into a crushing hug. She squeezed back, her face only hitting me mid-chest.

 

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