Protecting Emma

by ML Michaels

  Eventually, he said, “I still don’t really know what happened. One minute, things were going smoothly, and then... I don’t know, he just lost it. I don’t know what it was. He just started screaming. And suddenly bullets were going off. I tried to stop him. At first, I was just yelling at him in confusion, but then he shot down one of my other buddies. And then another. He tried to shoot at me, screaming that we’d all be better off dead instead fighting in a country where we had to worry every minute if some crazy militants would find and kill us. He shot me in the leg as I ran and tackled him. I was going to try to hold him down and talk some sense into him. But his skull cracked against some rocks when we fell to the ground,” he said, his voice cracking. He shook his head in disbelief.

  “I was the only one who survived. It all happened so fast that I never had time to process it. My body was just on autopilot. I still don’t get it, you know? He was my best friend. He killed our friends and tried to kill me.” My heart ached for him as I saw tears trickle down his face.

  “I’m pretty sure my boss has an idea of what happened. Chris was starting to show signs of stress. He wasn’t sleeping, and he started getting in fights with everyone over silly things. But I threw Chris’ gun in the river so they wouldn’t know the bullets who killed our buddies came from his gun. They don’t really have proof, and I won’t talk. I don’t want people to remember Chris that way. He was a good person, up until that point, and I think that’s how people should remember him.”

  I felt sadness wash over me. I’d seen first hand how military service could take a toll on even the strongest men and women. I couldn’t imagine how I would have handled a situation like that. It was terrible. I felt tears well up in my eyes. “I’m so sorry, so so sorry, Dean. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” I rested my head on his shoulder in sympathy.

  Dean looked at me, and sighed. “You should go.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “What?”

  I watched him get visibly angry. “I don’t need pity. Get out.”

  I was about to protest but saw his hands ball up into fists. I knew that if I tried to argue with him, he was going to forcibly remove me. I slowly got dressed and picked up my stuff.

  “If you need anything, you know where to find me.” With that, I walked out the door. He slammed it shut behind me.

  I sighed and leaned backwards against the door. Well, I supposed that was progress, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I may have caused more harm than good.

  ***

  Dean

  I slumped back into my bed. I couldn’t believe she had gotten me to talk. It felt so wrong. I had spent so much time trying to push down the events of what had happened that day. I had experienced a lot of difficult things in the army. But that had been the most horrifying day in my life. I had lost my best friend. I watched him lose it and kill his friends. Our friends. I vowed I would never talk about what happened to protect Chris.

  How dare she make me talk about it? During our appointments, I had made it clear that I didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe that’s why she had changed her mind about seeing me. She was too professional to date a patient. But maybe she figured I’d talk to her if we spend time together away from the hospital.

  The worst part was that I had. Sex had made me loosen up. I never talked to women like that after sex. That fact that I had was just more proof that it wasn’t something I should make a habit of. I knew I could never, ever see her again.

  And then, I realized that I needed to bounce back from this by finding another girl. I told myself that Emily had been nothing more than just another girl I’d wanted to fuck. Sure she was beautiful. And smart. And she’d made it more tantalizing by resisting me. But now that I’d had sex with her, there was no reason to be hung up on her. Sure, it was mind-blowing sex. I almost understood why some of my buddies got hung up on women. But it was time to move on. I had no intention of talking about my feelings like that again.

  I spent the rest of my day in bed, getting out only to order dinner. That night, I finally got dressed and headed down to the bar. When I walked in, the bartender gave me a big smile. “Haven’t seen you here for a few days.”

  I shrugged. “Everyone needs a break now and then.” Wordlessly, he poured me a scotch and I nurtured it. The burn of the drink warmed my body.

  I looked around the bar. There weren’t too many girls at the bar, but I notice a pretty blonde sitting all alone at a table. She looked nothing like Emily. She was the perfect girl to take home tonight.

  I slid into the seat across from her. “What is a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?” he asked.

  She gave me a smile over her drink, and said, “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  After the pretty blonde girl left, I crawled back into my bed, reveling in my alcohol-induced haze. I picked my phone up from the table, and noticed I’d had a few missed calls. I wondered who the hell would have called me. I looked at the number and discovered that it had been Emily. Not only that, but she had left a voicemail. I groaned. Why the fuck was she calling me? Couldn’t she take a hint?

  I no longer had a blonde girl in my bed to keep my mind off Emily so I needed something else to distract me. Absentmindedly, I opened the photo app on my phone and started scrolling. There were a lot of pictures of me and the guys. Some of them had died that day. I was about to close the app, not wanting to think about that day again, when I noticed a video that I couldn’t remember taking. It was time stamped only a month before Chris’ death. I opened the video, and I saw his face come up. Despite my best judgment, I pressed play.

  “Heyyyyy there, Dean!” screamed Chris’ voice from the phone. “I’m calling from my hotel right on the beach! Sorry you couldn’t be here! Maybe next time our vacation days can line up!” He paused for a second to look around before looking back at the camera. “I just met the most amazing girl! You wouldn’t believe it, but she’s the most amazing person I’d ever met! I think...I think I’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend, dude. I know, I know. I’ve always said I’m not that kind of guy, but...but sometimes you just meet someone so amazing. I know this one is special, and I can’t let her slip away.” Chris was smiling this big, bright smile. I’d only seen that expression on his face a handful of times. “I hope you’re doing good, buddy. See you soon!” With that, the video cut out.

  I stared at my phone for a while, processing what Chris had said. I didn’t know how he could have gone from being this ridiculously happy guy to breaking down in the middle of a battlefield in only a month’s time. He wanted to be with this new girl, but it hadn't worked out. One way or another, when he got back to base, he hadn’t mentioned any girlfriend.

  I’d probably never know what happened to Chris that day. But telling Emily had helped. Some of the burden and guilt had lifted.

  Looking at Chris’ smiling face again, I realized that he had given me a final gift. He hadn’t had time to be with the girl he wanted and start a real relationship. But I was going to be in this town for the time being. I had time.

  I smiled. I knew what I needed to do.

  I sat up and opened up the voicemail from Emily. “Hey, Dean. You didn’t show up for your appointment today. I was wondering if you wanted to reschedule? I’m planning on referring you to another doctor, but I need you to come in for us to talk about it.” With that, the message ended.

  ***

  Emily

  After grappling with my up and down emotions for hours, I arrived at Dean’s hotel with a mission. I could tell my feelings were getting in the way. One minute I’d wonder why this guy was getting under my skin. It wasn’t like we were going to live happily ever after. Even trying to joke myself out of it left me feeling sad and bereft. The only way to get beyond my teenage-like obsession was to tap into my professional mode, such as it was with Dean.

  So here I was, ready to act the professional. If he was mad at me, that was fine, but he needed help. If that meant me sending him to another doc
tor, then that was going to happen. But for that to happen, we needed to talk. I was going to make him talk to me, one way or another.

  I knocked on his door, expecting to have to wait, but the door swung open almost instantly. Dean stood on the other end, looking at me with an odd expression. It wasn’t something I was used to seeing on his face. “Hi, Dean. You missed your appointment and didn’t take any of my calls. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

  He pulled open the door wider. “Come in.” That was not the reaction I had expected. Tentatively, I walked into the room wondering what was next. I opened my mouth about to say something, but he beat me to the punch. “I think I’m in love with you,” he said. I stared at him in shock. “No, I know I am.”

  I stood there like a gaping fish, not knowing what to say. He was in love with me? I was shocked, but then again, maybe it made sense. “I... I’m in love with you, too.” I didn’t know why I was saying that, but the second it was out of my mouth, I realized that it was true.

  He grabbed my arms and pulled me into a kiss. It was even more as breathtaking than our earlier kisses if that were possible. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him closer to me. Thrills of excitement danced down my back. He pushed me onto his bed, and I happily let him straddle me. Slowly, he began kissing down my neck. When he reached my collarbone, he took the skin between his teeth. His hands pulled apart the buttons of my shirt, and I slipped it off of my shoulders. As he tugged his shirt off, I tossed my bra onto the floor. He cupped my breasts in his hands and flicked his thumbs over my nipples. I gasped as the pleasure traveled down to my wet center. He kissed down my torso and when he reached the waistband of my skirt, he pushed it down along with my underwear. All of a sudden, I was naked, and he was still wearing his pants.

  I hooked my ankle around him, and flipped him over so that I was now straddling him. He looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. “You like what you see?” I said with a laugh.

  “You know I do,” he said. He pulled me down for another kiss, and I melted into it. I felt him wrap his arms around my back. I was getting more and more turned on and I reflexively pressed myself down on him. I felt him gasp into my mouth. I reluctantly pulled away from the kiss and dragged my hands down to the waistband of his pants and pealed them down his body. His cock sprung free and I wrapped my hand around it. He He watched me with hawk-like eyes. I leaned down and gave the head an experimental lick. Then, I swirled my tongue around the head and I heard him softly moan. I took more of him into my mouth, and started moving my head up and down. I could tell it was taking all of his willpower to keep his composure. But I didn’t want him to keep his composure.

  I started moving faster and faster. He was practically putty in my hands. Eventually, I pulled my mouth off of his cock and reached over to his nightstand. I remembered that he kept his condoms there and just as expected, my hand caught one. I pulled it out, and ripped it open with my teeth. “Damn,” he said, swallowing hard. “You’re really hot when you do that.”

  I grinned, and pushed the condom onto his cock. Then, I lined the cock up just so and slowly sank down onto it. I felt it fill me up, and I gasped. He pressed his thumb onto my clit, and I moaned, throwing my head back. I slowly began to move up and down on his cock, and he matched the movement of his thumb to the rhythm of my movements. I began to speed up, and the bed began to shake under our movements. I gasped and moaned, feeling my climax began to building. I rode him harder and harder.

  Suddenly, I yelped as I was tossed onto the bed. He climbed on top and slipped his cock back into me. I moaned as I felt him deep inside of me. The feeling was so intense. All I could think about was the feeling of his hands and his body and his cock. All I could register was Dean. There were moans and gasps echoing through the room, but I didn’t know what was coming from me and what was coming from Dean.

  I screamed when an orgasm slammed into me sending pleasure throughout my body. As the high of my orgasm dissipated, I realized that Dean was breathing hard over me. He’d had an orgasm at about the same time. I pulled him down into a lazy kiss, and he kissed me back. Then, he moved from my lips to kiss my nose, forehead, cheeks, and then back to my lips. “Wow,” he said. “That was amazing.” I nodded, not being able to speak, and took his face in my hands.

  Dean rolled off of me, and shuffled over to the garbage can to slide the condom off. Then, he crawled back into the bed and wrapped his arms around me. I grinned, and then said, “What made you realize you were in love with me?”

  He was quiet for a few moments. For a minute, I thought I had said the wrong thing and went to apologize, but then he said, “You know what? It was Chris. I realized that life is too short not to spend it with someone you care about. You’re the only one I want to be around. I know it sounds like high school but will you be my girlfriend? Will you wait for me when I’m away on deployment?”

  Emotions overwhelmed me. Simultaneously, I felt like crying with gratitude and shouting with happiness at that top of my lungs.

  “Yes! I love you too.”

  He took my chin and pulled me into a kiss. Finally, I was exactly where I belonged.

  The End

  *****

  Phantom Billionaire: A Vampire BBW Protector Romance

  By: Bess Hart

  When Aidan danced, he seemed one with the music.

  Morphing the floor of a typical nightclub into a mystical virtual ballroom, the golden dancer likened an angel in flight as he swept across the floor; his agile muscled form swaying across the room with uncommon style and grace.

  Seated at a table near the back of the club, Callie watched enraptured as his hard chiseled body and flexible limbs floated above the fresh polished tile, not even seeming to touch the floor as the music guided his movements.

  She couldn’t immediately identify his style of dance, indeed, the solo moves that he performed for an audience filled with admiring onlookers seemed an enchanting pastiche of styles—a dance of his own invention in which every move seemed more radiant than the last.

  The leaps and occasional pirouettes that punctuated his dance reminded her of a ballet performance she’d seen as a child; one that had first introduced her to the magic of dance.

  Yet the moment that Aidan’s feet hit the ground, he launched into a sexy, hip driven routine that—with its struts, shimmies and gyrations—looked like an act that might have been filmed for a movie like Dirty Dancing or Saturday Night Fever.

  “Or perhaps even Magic Mike,” she mused, adding as he thrust his trim hips forward in a particularly hot gyration, “Or so I’ve heard.”

  And as he continued to dazzle the crowd with his fluid, impromptu, yet highly skilled dances, she could tell that he savored every moment of his performance. Indeed, on the rare occasion that she could drag her gaze away from his sinuous body, she focused on the flawless face of a man who threw his very heart and soul into every single dance move.

  His blue green eyes seemed reduced to dreamy slits as he moved to the strains of a melodic jazz tune, gazing out from a chiseled face that also boasted chiseled cheekbones, a cleft chin, and full moist lips spread in a sly, white toothed smile—a seemingly pleasant, innocent expression that told his audience he knew what they were thinking.

  “Or at least he knows what I’m thinking,” she gritted her teeth, ducking her head as their gazes clashed for a brief but timeless moment.

  As far as she knew, Aidan Sterling was never paid for his solo dance performances at Club Prestige, the premiere (OK then, the only) night club in her hometown of Pineville, Florida. Yet the moment that he cleared the stage, the dancer immediately attracted a throng of fans who barraged him with requests of various sorts.

  “Various and a sundry,” she thought with a chuckle, reviewing in her head the words that she’d heard pass the lips of the dancer’s devoted fans. “Would you teach me that move where you do that one thing with your arms and that other thing with your legs? Would you teach m
e to dance in general? Would you father my children?”

  Callie chuckled outright as she considered the boldness of some of the ladies in the crowd, and she watched with a smile as he took every lady interested for a turn across the floor. Whether she took the form of a matronly grandmother swinging what she strongly suspected was not her original hip, or a giggling young college girl who more than matched his seemingly boundless energy, each of Aidan’s partners seemed to leave her mortal space for the few precious moments she spent in his company basking in the realm of a heavenly otherworld where she danced on air and reigned as queen.

  Callie, for her part, never stepped forward to take her turn with the star of Club Prestige. As the executive director of the only nonprofit domestic violence agency based in Pineville, she always found it necessary to maintain a certain standard of dignity and decorum.

  “What I have is a reputation to uphold,” she asserted in silence, holding fast to her seat in the darkened back area of the low-lit club. “What I don’t have is a single shred or ounce of dancing ability.”

  And ironically enough, it was these two facts that had worked in bizarre tandem to motivate her visit to the club in the first place.

  As the organizer of a yearly fundraiser that benefitted the Woman’s Choice shelter, the domestic violence and sexual assault agency that she had helped to found five years ago, she constantly felt challenged to come up with new and innovative ways to bring in needed funds for the shelter, the only help agency of its kind open and available to the women and families of her hometown.

  And after years of hosting activities that ranged from bake sales to book sales, golf tournaments to wine tastings, her vice president Angel Patrick—bless her little heart—had suggested that they put on a show.