Her Soldier (That Girl #3)

by H. J. Bellus

  I shake my head in disbelief. This is just like the typical Jenni, falling for the nearest, hottest guy with a pulse. I get sucked in so easily, and it’s always for the wrong reasons. I sit here broken and fantasizing about a complete stranger.

  “Are you done?” A deep voice drags me from my thoughts, and when I look up Beau is standing before me.

  I simply nod, unable to talk from everything swirling around inside me. It’s like one poisonous thought after the next, with a vicious roller coaster of emotions as a chaser.

  “I gave you two painkillers. We need to stay on top of them to control your pain. They will probably make you sleepy.”

  I nod again, saying nothing, and feel myself falling off the deep end for this man. I try to remind myself to not get tangled up again in my masochistic cycle of pain and torture that always involves men.

  “C’mon.” His hand cradles me as he easily carries me to the couch. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No.”

  Beau gently places me down on the sofa, now covered in a blue plaid fleece blanket with matching sheets. I know these weren’t here before because the thick material covering the couch was irritating the skin on my arms.

  “Thank you for all this.” My hand mindlessly brushes over the soft blanket.

  “No problem.” Beau turns around, heading for his bedroom.

  My eyes flash toward the large set of windows, seeing nothing but a black sky with a few streetlamps lighting the way. It’s night. He’s going to bed.

  “Beau.” The word escapes my mouth before I can even process my next move.

  He stops dead in his tracks, not turning to me, but with this back facing me while his hands are perched on his hips.

  “Will you stay out here with me?” Tears threaten to pool up again as I ask the question, and my voice trembles.

  He says nothing, standing still in the doorway as I cringe with fear and anxiety.

  “Never mind, I’ll be fine.” I pause, searching for more words and hating the awkward silence mingling between us. “Um, thanks for making me this bed.”

  Beau begins to move again, stepping into his bedroom, flipping the light on, and I can hear some rustling. I take his movement as a no, so I decide to make myself as comfortable as possible on the couch. Balanced at the perfect angle on my left side, I find a position that allows me to breathe easily, and I even let out a slight cough without causing too much pain in my ribs.

  The light remains on in Beau’s room, and I can hear each of his movements while he gets himself ready for bed. The sounds of a running faucet, him brushing his teeth, and then some sounds coming from his bathroom. I even hear him let out a little growl and then turn on the shower. The apartment is very tiny, and I swear I can practically smell the steam from his extremely hot shower.

  I analyze each one of his moves and try to picture them as he completes each step of his bedtime ritual. Finally, he flips off the light to his bedroom, and my heart deflates a bit. I’m not sure what I was hoping for, but just hearing him move about his space was distracting enough for me not to focus on any other parts of my seriously fucked-up situation.

  Moments later, I hear his feet padding across the room. I look up and see Beau standing in the light pouring from his window. He’s clothed in flannel pajama pants with no top on. I only stole a glimpse of him shirtless before, and that was in a sleep and drug induced state. Now, only beginning to feel the effects of painkillers, I have a much better view. The sight of bare, tan chest makes me smile. My eyes not so discreetly follow the line of muscles down to the top of his pants, and yep, he has the perfect outlined V.

  “Jenni.”

  “Beau, please stay with me.”

  This time I don’t hesitate or act ashamed of my question. I force my voice to be strong and demanding. The truth is I need to be held by this man tonight.

  He lifts his hands from his hips and slowly drags them through his wet hair, contemplating my question. His hands finally rest on the back of his head while he stares me down.

  “This is a slippery slope, Jenni.”

  “I’m sorry.” My fingers pick at the edge of the dainty seams on the blanket. I avoid looking at his face. “I need you now, Beau.”

  In a series of movements, Beau climbs onto the couch, and not the way I expected him to at all. He’s covering my body with his. I removed the hoodie sweatshirt I was wearing and am left in a white tank top, braless. His upper torso presses into my exposed skin. He’s thoughtful and puts all of his body weight into the couch instead of on me.

  “Can I kiss you?” Beau drops his forehead to mine, softly brushing his lips against mine. “I need to kiss you, Jenni.”

  I nod. Beau’s lips touch mine tentatively at first. The scabs covering them don’t distract him from his mission. I find myself kissing him back, wanting more and more of his taste. My fingers slowly curl in his hair as he continues to kiss me. He doesn’t push for more or explore any other part of me. Closing my eyes, I take in all of him. His kiss is protective and intense. So many emotions are conveyed through the simple kiss, making me want more of him, but knowing it’s not the time or place.

  Beau slowly pulls up and stares down at me, and I know he’s asking if I’m okay. I tighten my hand in his hair and drag him back down. His lips are hard and searching as he lays claim to me. Pulling up again, his lips brush against mine.

  “Thank you, fuck, thank you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Nothing else is said between us as Beau positions himself behind me and cradles me perfectly. I finally settle back into him and realize I haven’t felt this relaxed and comfortable since before Jazzy’s wedding. My eyes begin to shut as the pills amp up their dulling effect. I feel one of Beau’s hands cradling the underside of my head while the other one is resting on my hipbone. He slips his hand down into the front of my sweats, holding me.

  ***

  Beau

  I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. How the hell did I end up in this situation? It’s fucked-up beyond all belief. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want this broken one I’m holding. The thought of her being tortured by that asshole makes me see red. When I see red something happens, and it’s not a feeling I like to have. Then again it’s just a part of me I can’t control anymore.

  There’s no doubt I would’ve killed him if it weren’t for Jenni needing urgent medical care. The thoughts of her in pain and suffering were the only things keeping me from crushing his fucking skull. And this was before I had even seen her face and true beauty. All I could make out was her blonde hair flying around. My one weakness is women and the need to take care of them. It’s the one thing my gram taught me growing up.

  I desperately want to call her friends, and I know for a fact she knows Michelle or Lynlee or whatever her fucking name is now. They were wearing matching dresses, and I can only guess they were a part of the wedding party. Part of me is pissed that two days have passed and none of her friends or family has called or texted. Maxton’s name has popped up a couple times.

  Just the thought of his name threatens to cause me to fucking snap. When Jenni is well enough to be alone, I will be hunting down the fucker and finishing the job.

  Jenni rustles around a little, pushing her ass back on me while squealing slightly in her sleep, and I know it’s from the pain. It’s truly unimaginable what her body has gone through. I had one broken rib overseas when I was in the service and thought I’d die of pain before it healed.

  Her ass pushes back into me one more time, and I silently thank the good lord I hopped back into the shower, taking care of myself before coming out here. When she asked me to stay with her it nearly split me in half, and not in a good way. The last woman I loved destroyed me, and the only woman I could ever trust passed away with a broken heart, believing I was dead. Getting close to Jenni is not a good idea, or even an option for me at this time in my life.

  So leaving no chance of my other head taking control of the situation,
I handled it in the shower, stroking myself to the images of her beautiful face and blonde hair bouncing off my chest. She nearly undid me when she placed her sweet lips on my cheek earlier. I feel like a sick fuck wanting her so badly but can’t help how my cock reacts. With one more push of her ass back on me, my cock springs back to life, ready to enter her.

  Common sense kicks in, and I know she can’t handle being fucked in this state, and then my morals kick in, and I realize I’m one twisted asshole to even be wanting her right now. And that’s the one final reminder that I never deserve to be with another woman. Plus, I have way too much of a past to hide from her. The U.S. government has promised to cover everything up and create a new future for me. I bet they sure didn’t count on me finding a face from my past and then tangling myself up with her best friend. And only months into my new life.

  Fuck, I wonder if I can get off this couch and back without waking her. I need to take care of something again.

  Chapter 3

  Day Six

  Jenni

  “Beau.” Sitting up on the couch this morning is a bit more comfortable, but my ribs won’t let me forget how tender they are.

  “Getting out of the shower, Jenni.”

  Sighing, I’m relieved to hear the sound of his voice. The past couple nights he’s slept with me on the couch, holding me. I don’t know how to explain to him how much of a comfort he’s provided me over those nights.

  I try to hold a conversation with him during the days when I’m awake and eating, but the meds always kick in way too fast. However, I’ve gotten to know him a bit, and the only thing I did discover is that he loved his gram. I’ve heard countless stories about her and her baking skills, but when I push for any more, he cuts me off instantly.

  “Hungry, tiger?” Beau rounds the corner in his jeans and bare chest. It’s clearly his signature look when at home, and he isn’t embarrassed to show it off anymore.

  “Yeah, but I think I’ll shower this morning.”

  My words come out more as a question asking for permission. Beau is still right by my side if I try to walk or go to the bathroom. He’s finally comfortable standing on the outside of the door while I use the restroom. He’s provided towels and washcloths for me to clean up in the mornings. But today I want a hot shower. Each night before bed as I doze off on the couch, I listen to him shower, and smell the refreshing hot water filling the apartment makes my desire for a shower grow.

  Most of my scabs are slowly disappearing, while my bruising is turning into a pale green, and my lips are completely healed. Beau is constantly applying the salve to my lips, which is why they are probably in such great shape right now.

  “You think you can handle it?” His voice snaps me from my thoughts and causes me to grin a bit.

  “I think I’m ready, Nurse Nancy.”

  “You are going to think Nurse Nancy, Patient Polly Pain-in-my-ass.”

  I stand before Beau has the chance to reach me. I have to start to wean myself from his help and begin my recovery. The ER doctor prescribed an extra strength painkiller with major components that help with swelling. They’ve been magic and have allowed me to move about easier. I find myself still gripping onto Beau’s side for support.

  Beau cradles my right side, and of course it helps ease the pain and makes it easier to walk, but I have to do this myself.

  “I got this, Beau.” His brown eyes are full of concern. “As much as I love having you at my side, I have to walk on my own. It’s not like I can have you attached to me forever.”

  “I’m not sure if you’re ready.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” I send him a little wink as I take a step.

  The pain is there, but nothing compared to what it has been. The freedom of walking outweighs any pain I’m feeling. Beau’s right behind me, but letting me do this all on my own.

  “Thank you, Beau.”

  As I enter his room, my eyes always find the picture of the sweet baby girl on his nightstand and the dog tags sitting next to it. I’ve wanted to ask several times who, what, and where, wanting all the details. I never allow him to catch me staring at the picture, but the little girl has his eyes and olive skin. I know deep down in my gut it’s his baby. I learned a long time ago to never ask questions about topics like these. You might not want to know the answer.

  “I’m just going to get a towel and some stuff ready for you, Jenni. The water should already be warmed up for you.”

  Beau steps out of the bathroom, and I admire the barely visible line of his crack peeking from his pants. His jeans tend to rest very loosely on his hips. I get back to shower business before he changes his mind and makes me sponge bathe again. I’m able to pull down the oversized sweats easily now. The navy blue pants drop to the ground with one easy push. I slowly drag one foot out of them, and then the other. I giggle at the Garfield undies Beau went out and bought for me. I’m pretty sure he picked them up in the little girl’s section, but I haven’t had the heart to tell him. The elastic in the waist digs into my sides, since they are about two sizes too small.

  I try to pull them down over my ass and nearly have the job finished when I realize Beau will be returning any moment. I have the downward movement mastered, but tugging them up causes me more pain. Beau enters the extremely tiny bathroom when I have my underwear at least pulled up enough to cover my coochie.

  “Here are some clean towels.” Beau’s eyes shoot down below my waist and then rapidly return to my eyes. I watch as he takes in a long gulp.

  “Sorry, I guess I got ahead of myself.”

  He turns to the tub and readies the water. He already knows I like the water hot, and the ever-familiar lingering scent of steam quickly fills the room. Something comes over me. My fingers begin to slowly drag down my underwear until I feel them settle on the top of my ankles. I step out of them, but have to grab onto Beau’s shoulder to steady myself. He turns just enough to see what I’m doing. His eyes linger on my underwear on the floor.

  Stepping right up behind him, I try to pry one arm from the oversized hoodie. “Holy shit.” The pain is too much to wrench my arm from long sleeve.

  “What?” Beau faces me with concern spreading over his face.

  “I can’t get this off.”

  Without another word, he delicately takes the hoodie off of me, then he turns back to the shower and adjusts the water temperature. When he faces me again, I stand before him clothed only in a white tank top. Taking his hand, I guide it to the hem of the material, urging him to help me remove it. I remove my hand, and his grips the thin fabric.

  His other hand joins and he slowly inches up the white material while his knuckles drag along the course of my skin. I grab his face, framing his masculine beauty while I relish the feel of him on me. I feel his hands reach my armpits.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this.” Beau bows his head and stares down at his feet.

  I use the grip I have on his face to make him look up at me.

  “I shouldn’t be letting you do this.” Standing up on my tiptoes, I place a soft kiss on his lips. “But there’s nothing else in this world I’d rather be doing.”

  In three swift steps, Beau has me pinned up against the wall with my hands raised above my head. My vision is blurred as he drags the white tank off of me. And then in an instant I’m standing bare naked. His eyes drink me in with his hungry gaze. I go to grab him, cling on to him, touch him, and kiss him, but he catches my wrist with brute force, shaking his head.

  Beau drops to his knees. I follow him with my eyes and try again to touch him, but he puts an immediate stop to it. His lips find the biggest bruised area on my pelvic bone, and he begins to pepper kisses all over the surface. He moves to the next swollen, healing bruise and performs the same action. My hands finally land in his thick dark hair, gripping onto it tightly while my head relaxes back against the wall.

  His touch comforts and confuses me all at once. I want more of him right now.

  “I’m so sorry th
is happened to you.” Beau’s lips slowly drag across my abdomen, making their way to my right side.

  “I just want to forget it all ever happened. Can you make that happen, Beau Morgan?”

  My fingers tighten in his hair as he kisses my side. He is so gentle and tender, not once causing me to flinch in pain. When he is finally on his feet, I find the button to his jeans and easily unbutton it and the slide down his zipper. I grasp both sides of his jeans and push them down toward the floor, and they fall easily. I repeat the same actions with his boxers.

  Bringing his hands to my lips, I kiss his knuckles while whispering my thanks to him. Over the last few nights I’ve experienced horrid and very vivid nightmares of Maxton and the blows which nearly destroyed me. Each time the nightmare invades me, I fight it, only making it worse until Beau wakes me up in his arms.

  “Beau.” I reach back to his stubble. “I don’t want any more nightmares.”

  He scoops me up in his arms and places me in the shower, and for a moment I think he’s going to retreat, but he doesn’t. He climbs in with me. The stream jetting from the showerhead is powerful. The smell invades me, and then Beau begins to wash my body. I don’t fight him or try to help.

  With each swipe he makes I try to erase a vision of Maxton. Closing my eyes, I try harder to force him from my brain. I make a pact with God as the bruises heal to erase all memories of that awful night. The harder I force him away, it seems a more vivid picture of Maxton towering above me forms in my head.

  I begin screaming, but the sound is only in my mind. I’m screaming for it all to stop, but every time the vision lets up Maxton’s bright green eyes come back into view.