I Don't Dance (Freebirds Book 6)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  My eyes closed and I breathed her in.

  She smelled like coffee and cinnamon roasted walnuts, which meant she’d cheated and already opened one of my Christmas presents to her.

  “Hey, baby,” I said into Blaine’s hair. “I had to keep my promise,” I declared.

  She turned her head, but left it on my chest, breaking my heart with the sight of her tears. “What promise?”

  Grinning at her like a fool, I said, “Dancing with you. I made a promise, and I plan to keep it.”

  “This is the best Christmas present ever!” She declared loudly, lifting her head out of my neck, finally letting me see her eyes.

  They were still streaming tears, but they were full of happiness.

  I grinned. “I guess you were fooled by my faux hotel room?”

  She mock glared at me, but couldn’t hold it for long. “I’m so going to kick your ass.”

  The thought was laughable, yet she looked completely serious.

  “Is that right?” I teased.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Yep. I’ve got other plans for your ass in the near future; you’re lucky.”

  “You know I don’t swing that side of the fence,” I said as I started walking towards the front door where our parents were patiently waiting for us.

  She laughed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “What the hell are you still wearing those pajamas for?” I whispered into her hair.

  She felt so good in my arms. Like the missing piece to my puzzle. It’d been a miserable nine months, but I was here now, and I would be for another four months, at least.

  My plans for the next few months?

  Sex.

  Lots and lots of sex.

  ***

  We didn’t even make it into our apartment before I divested her of her shirt.

  Shivers danced down her spine as my bearded face connected with the smooth line of her jaw, and traveled down the curve of her neck.

  “Elliott,” she gasped, taking a fistful of hair and yanking on it to get me to disengage.

  I was a starving man, though.

  Didn’t she know how much I wanted her? How very much I needed her? How long I’ve waited to have her again?

  Nine goddamn months.

  Nine long, lonely months of nothing for company but my hand.

  My dick missed her.

  Somehow I managed to get the keys out of Blaine’s bottomless pit of a purse, and into the lock, all while I devoured her neck and shoulder.

  Her hands stayed clutched to my hair, pulling me closer while she ground her pussy all over the front of my jeans.

  The jeans were new, and had no give in them, making it an uncomfortable sensation for my overly excited cock that hadn’t felt its favorite plaything up against it in nearly a year.

  The memory of her was two hundred and seventy days of torture.

  Sweet torture.

  “Elliott,” she groaned, moving her mouth down to my throat and sucking lightly. “We need to get inside before you get into trouble for indecent exposure.”

  My hand around her ass tightened, and I physically restrained myself from going any further.

  I stepped back away from her, or at least tried to, but her legs wouldn’t let me go.

  “You’ve got to work with me honey,” I rasped.

  She smiled. “Open the damn door, Elliott. I’ve been away from you for too long to let you go now.”

  I smiled, hoisted her up high on my chest and pinned her against the door, trying once again to get the goddamned door open.

  She distracted me extremely well, though.

  The feel of her soft, strong fingers massaging my scalp, scratching it lightly with her long fingernails.

  She knew how much I loved that.

  I groaned in bliss.

  My lips ran along her ribs, soft against soft, as I was finally able to get the door knob turned.

  I didn’t make it far inside, though.

  Two steps in, I kicked the door closed with a bone jarring rattle, and dropped down to my knees all in one motion.

  One fist planted down into the carpet, holding me steady while I let her feel the weight of me.

  My hard cock dug into her pubic bone, and her hands lifted up until they clutched the coffee table’s metal legs.

  She gasped, giving me the sound I’d so desperately wanted to hear again, and I was lost.

  I lifted up only long enough to yank the pajamas from her legs, and her panties followed only seconds after.

  “You feel so sweet,” I said as I settled back between her thighs.

  She grinned, and moved her hands to the bottom of my shirt, yanking it out of my pants, up, and over my head.

  I had to catch myself on one hand after she took the other out from under me with her exuberance, but it only added to our need.

  My hands went to the bra holding her boobs in place, and I yanked it roughly down, exposing the most beautiful breasts I’d ever seen.

  Her nipples were dark, perfectly round buds that begged for my attention.

  And who was I to refuse?

  I was a man, after all, with nine months of pent up sexual need for her.

  My wife was in front of me. Underneath of me. Giving herself to me.

  And I wasted no time latching onto one taut nipple and pulling it deep into my mouth, causing her to cry out in surprise.

  My hand, the one not planted beside her, traveled down, working the belt on my jeans and unbuttoning the snap, all the while my knuckles rubbed enticingly against her pussy.

  I could feel the moisture seeping out of her heated core. I could literally fucking smell it in the air around us. She smelled like heaven. Like home. Like mine.

  “Elliott,” she groaned.

  That seemed to be the only word that she could manage in her state, but that was okay. I knew damn good and well what she wanted. No, needed.

  Lifting my cock out of its confinement, I held the base and ran the bulbous head against the lips of her sex.

  That lasted for all of five seconds as I made the mistake of unlatching myself from one tit to go to the other, and she turned the tables on me.

  Wiggling her little body, she made it out from under me, causing me to lean back in surprise.

  She looked at me hungrily, eyes fastening on my raging erection that pointed straight to the ceiling in its excitement.

  She licked her lips, and then threw herself forward.

  I caught her effortlessly, my cock smashing between us as her hips started grinding down into my own.

  “Please,” she whispered frantically.

  Not liking that she was in distress, I lifted her up, positioned my cock at her entrance, and slowly lowered her down, easing my stiff dick inside of her one slow inch at a time.

  Her pussy swallowed me up.

  Needy and hot.

  I closed my eyes, concentrating really hard on not coming, but it was a losing battle.

  One I wanted to lose.

  Knowing this one was going to be over quick, I shoved her down hard as I thrust up, impaling her on my cock, and eliciting a moan of sheer pleasure from her as I went in as deep as I could go.

  The tip of my cock found its favorite place inside of Blaine.

  I ground deeply into her, opening my eyes in time to see her throw her head back and moan.

  The muscles of her throat working as sound poured out.

  Her nipples tightened impossibly harder, and her core clamped down on my cock with a death grip, pulsing and sucking me in even deeper.

  “Oh, fuck,” I moaned as I felt the familiar feeling start to race down my spine.

  My balls tightened, pulling up as close to my body as they could go, as I too, joined her.

  Our combined releases zapped what little energy we had, and I fell backwards onto the floor, taking her with me as I went.

  “This is pretty comfortable.
Do you mind if I nap?” She teased.

  “You know, you could ask me to do anything, and as long as you were with me, I’d do it. Even if I didn’t like doing it. All it takes is one tiny look into your eyes, and I’m gone. I’m so fucking into you I don’t know where I end and you begin,” I rasped against her ear.

  Her legs tightened at my chest, and a sob caught in her throat.

  “I’m so glad you made it home,” she whispered happily.

  Catching a tear with my lips, I whispered, “There was never any doubt, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 5

  Nobody touches my junk quite the way you do.

  -E-card

  Blaine

  Christmas number 2

  “I love you,” Elliott said as he kissed me one last time. My arms wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t let him go.

  Two deployments, and it never got easier. In fact, they got harder. Maybe I knew a little better now what would happen after he was gone. How lonely I’d feel. How worried I’d be.

  I knew that I’d cry myself to sleep most nights. I knew that after I hung up the phone with him, I’d worry about him until I spoke with him again two weeks later.

  I lived for those phone calls. My world revolved around them.

  His hand raised and cupped my face. His big palm covering my cheek and half my eye, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said quietly. “It’s only six months. That’s one hundred and eighty days. That’s nothing.”

  I’m sure his intentions had been good, but knowing it was one hundred and eighty days made it seem somehow longer, rather than just saying six months.

  I lifted my head up from his shoulder, and looked into his beautiful eyes.

  He was so sexy. Even with his ugly brown and green cammies on. Even knowing what they stood for. Knowing that when he had those on, it was because he was about to deploy, and leave me alone again.

  “Will you dance with me before I leave?” He asked, surprising me.

  I nodded, feeling a sick welling sensation in the back of my throat. “Yeah.”

  So we danced.

  He hummed ‘Oh, Christmas Tree’ under his breath, just as he’d done the year prior. It was off tune, and sounded terrible, but I could care less. It meant something to me that he’d remembered. Somehow making this whole terrible thing bearable.

  We danced for what felt like seconds, but turned out to be two long minutes, because whistles from the men at the gate, his team, interrupted us.

  He lifted his hand, letting them know he’d heard them, and looked into my eyes.

  “Here,” he said, lifting a folded envelope from his side pocket. “Don’t read this until I’m gone, okay?”

  I nodded, giving him my promise not to look at it until his plane was safely in the air. “Promise.”

  He smiled faintly. It was a sad smile. A smile that told that he knew what was about to happen, yet not able to do a damn thing about it.

  “Be strong, girly girl. I’ll see you soon. Now kiss me and smile for me,” he said as he gave me a long, wet kiss, and then let me go.

  I blinked, and watched him walk away.

  “I’m leavin’ on a jet plane…” he sang loudly.

  I smiled. A real genuine smile.

  He looked back over his shoulder twice before he found his place in formation. I knew it was hard for him. Hell, it was probably worse for him than it was for me, knowing that he was leaving me here.

  At least he had something to keep his mind occupied. All I had was free time. And I knew exactly how it would be spent. Thinking of him. I hated the US Army. So fucking bad it wasn’t even funny.

  What kind of sick fucking joke was it to deploy troops the week of Christmas?

  Then I berated myself.

  You knew what you signed up for. I thought to myself.

  I sat in the bleachers beside my parents as I watched the love of my life stand single file with one hundred and thirty other US Soldiers, all in proper formation, waiting for the okay to file onto the plane.

  As the order finally came, I watched as the love of my life, with one final look back at me, blew me a kiss, and then entered the plane.

  I caught the kiss, bringing it down to my heart, and making a fist so it’d never escape.

  “Oh, sweetie. He’ll be back in no time,” my mother said softly. I ignored her.

  She didn’t know that.

  I didn’t know that.

  He didn’t know that.

  He could die over there, and I’d never get to see him again. Then I criticized myself for those terrible thoughts.

  I’ll have him home next year. I’ll have him home next year. I repeated those words inside my head, taking them to heart.

  This year may suck, but he wouldn’t be deployed two Christmases in a row.

  Next year would be different.

  The massive plane’s engines started up as the final straggler entered the back of the plane.

  Six people ran around the plane frantically as they closed doors, removed the wheel locks, and moved things out of the way so the plane could get out, and take our soldiers off to their next destination.

  Then the large ugly green giant started moving slowly down the runway, picking up speed faster and faster until finally it lifted off the ground. It seemed like it took forever to reach the air, clearing the fence at the end of the runway with what looked to be inches to spare.

  I watched, my heart in my throat, until I could no longer see the plane.

  Then, with shaking hands, I reached into my hoodie’s pocket and removed the note that Elliott said to read as soon as I couldn’t see the plane any longer.

  My eyes leaked, and my nose ran, but I read the letter.

  Blaine,

  No tears.

  There isn’t room for them here.

  (Did that work, ‘cause I’m sure it didn’t, but it was worth a try.)

  But you’re smiling now, right?

  I was.

  I got you a present at home. I had the neighbor deliver it while I was gone.

  Don’t kill me.

  I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart, and when I next make it home, I want to start a family with you.

  This is my last deployment.

  I can’t bear leaving you anymore.

  It hurts too bad.

  I want to lay down next to you every night.

  I want to wake up with you in my arms every morning.

  I want to make you green Christmas tree shaped pancakes on Christmas morning.

  I want to get yelled at for leaving my gaudy underwear in the middle of the floor, and the toilet lid up.

  I just plain want you.

  The good you. The bad you. The pissed off you. That-time-of-the-month you.

  Don’t be sad, sweet girl. I’ll be home in six months, hopefully less.

  And remember what I said about not killing me when you see your Christmas present.

  I love you to infinity and beyond,

  Elliott

  He was good. My tears had dried, and I smiled for the first time since he left me standing at the airport’s gates.

  ***

  “Oh, my…God,” I said as I took in the state of my kitchen.

  There was trash everywhere, as well as two piles of poop, and a large puddle of pee.

  In the middle of it all was the cutest little Bassett Hound with the longest ears I’d ever seen.

  “Oh, Elliott, you little shit,” I said as I got down on my haunches and looked into the cutest eyes, aside from Elliott’s that is, that I’d ever seen.

  “So much trouble, Elliott. So much!” I yelled as I scooped the tiny puppy up into my arms and carried him with me down the apartment stairs and to the little patch of grass at the side of the building.

  Old Mrs. Lowe sneered at me when she saw me, as was her usual.

  The woman hated me.
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  I didn’t know why, and she didn’t expound, but we stayed clear of each other, because otherwise, there may be a slap down in the woman’s near future.

  Likely it had to do with the fact that my husband didn’t hide the fact that he hated Mrs. Lowe’s son, who was a douche and a half.

  The man was downright creepy, and made no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching me, even if my husband happened to be at my side.

  “Alright, big…” I said looking down underneath the dog’s legs. “Boy, go pee pee.”

  Miraculously, he did, and it became the beginning of a brand new partnership.

  One where I cried into his coat because I was missing my husband, and he let me.

  He was a good cuddler and all, but he wasn’t my husband.

  ***

  Elliott

  Three months later

  “Did she call you cussing you out yet?” Sam asked as he plopped down in the seat beside me.

  I shook my head. “No. She even sent me a care package to express her thankfulness. How about that?”

  Sam rolled his eyes.

  He wasn’t fooling me, though.

  I knew he got just as excited to get a care package as I did.

  “Open it, open it,” Dougie clapped his hands, imitating a six year old girl waiting to open her birthday presents.

  Knowing they wouldn’t be leaving until I opened the box, I fished my knife out of my boot and slit the tape open.

  I unfolded the box, and lifted out a shoe. A bra. A makeup bag. A pair of underwear. And finally, a half-eaten block of Velveeta cheese.

  “Holy shit,” Sam said, barely containing his laughter. “It looks like she’s trying to tell you something.”

  No doubt.

  Especially since each individual item had been torn to smithereens, and was barely recognizable.

  “What’s the note say?” Dougie asked, bending down to read over my shoulder.

  I flipped open the note, and scanned it quickly, managing to hold my laughter in until I’d made it all the way through.

  “She says she wanted me to feel like I was home, so she sent me some of Steeler’s favorite things,” I chuckled.

  “How thoughtful,” Jack said dryly.

  She would never knew what that chewed up crap meant to me.