Head On (Strength And Love)

by S. R. Jones

  “I think you should come and stay with me. Your dad called me, and he says you’re at some friend’s house, only he’s never met her.”

  What the heck? Dad can call Dave but not me? I try to push the hurt to one side. He’s busy and Dave is his business partner. I’ve wondered a few times recently if there’s something going on with the business as they’ve been calling one another more than usual at night, and Dad has seemed a bit distant.

  Ethan is heading back toward me now, the other guy limping off across the field in the opposite direction.

  “I’m fine, Uncle Dave. She’s a good friend.” I hate lying, it’s not something I’ve done much of in my life, and when I do it tends to be lying by omission, like not telling people about the cancer.

  “I still think you ought to come and stay with me.” He clears his throat. “Are you…are you okay? Is there…anything you want to tell me?”

  I’m stumped for a moment, it’s almost as if he knows. I push the idea away immediately. “No. Why?”

  He does this little cough again. “Well, erm…There’s been a bit of…trouble. Business stuff, but your dad’s a bit concerned.”

  My blood runs cold. Holy hell! Maybe Ethan’s been right all along, and what happened was aimed at hurting me. I’ve honestly believed it to be all about him. Now, I’m scared. Ethan reaches me and his eyes search mine.

  “I’ll be okay, honest. No one even knows where I am, so I’m probably safer here than at yours. If there’s a problem, then people know your Dad’s business partner. What exactly is going on?”

  He clears his throat again, and it’s noticeable because he’s normally all confident bullshit. “It’s silly business stuff, but some…threats have been made. At least tell me where you are.”

  Some gut instinct tells me not to. It’s not that I think Dave is behind what’s happened, but I don’t trust him. Never have. I’ll call Dad later and tell him, but not Dave.

  “I’m out walking Sadie at the moment, and I don’t actually know the address.” I give a little laugh. “I’ll text you it when I get back and can ask Ann.”

  “You’re not safe, two women alone. You should come and stay with me. It’s what your dad wants.”

  I decide to tell a bit more of the truth. “We’re not alone. Her brother’s staying, and he’s ex SAS.”

  There’s even more silence. “Okay. I’m not happy about it, and your dad won’t be either. Text me the address.”

  He hangs up without even saying goodbye.

  “Ex SAS, eh?” Ethan’s eyes are amused. “It’s actually ex-SBS.”

  I don’t understand the difference so I shrug.

  Ethan smiles at me. “SAS is the Special Air Service. We’re the Special Boat Service. I’m a sailor, not a soldier. We’re a bit like the SEALs, only better.” His smile turns into a full on, cocky grin, and I’m blinded by his beauty.

  Right now, with the sun shining down on his dark hair, his deep blue eyes even bluer against the bright light and blue sky, and his gorgeous smile, he’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever seen.

  His face grows serious as he regards me. “What was the phone call about?”

  “My Dodgy Uncle Dave wants me to go stay with him. He says there’s some business trouble, and Dad’s worried about me. It seems your guess about this being about my dad may be correct.”

  He nods, but doesn’t say anything for a moment. He indicates for us to head back toward the house, and we start walking down the hill.

  “What happened with the guy in the bushes?” I try to make light of it, but I’m getting seriously creeped out.

  He laughs. “Erm, turns out it’s a bit of a dogging and cottaging spot.”

  I’ve no clue what he means and my expression must say as much. He clears his throat and for the first time since I’ve met him, he looks a bit embarrassed.

  “It’s where people go and pretend they’re walking the dog, but they’re meeting for sex.”

  I blink at him, twice. “They have sex. In the middle of a load of hedges?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. Not too happy it’s right on my doorstep. I think I’ll ask the guy who owns this land to cut the hedges right back. Sadie and Ann go walking around here, don’t want her coming across people doing that shit.”

  I shudder at the thought. I mean, there must be all sorts of spiders and creepy crawlies in those hedges.

  He looks at me and starts to laugh. “You’re such a prude.”

  “And you’re such a ‘Not In My Backyard’ hypocrite.”

  “Touché.” He doffs a pretend cap and I grin. I’m hoping I can interest him in a bit more of the sexy stuff when we get back to the house.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ethan

  We get back to the house, and after taking all the dogs leads off, and getting them water, I go to put the kettle on. I look around and there’s no Isla. I wander out into the hallway and poke my head into the living room, but she’s not there. I head into my study. But she’s not in there, either, or the gym.

  I shout upstairs. “Do you want a coffee, or some tea?”

  Silence. Frowning, I climb the stairs, and head toward the guest room, but it’s empty. She must be in the bathroom. I’m hot and head to the bedroom to take my jeans off, and put some lighter cargo pants on, when I stop dead.

  Lying on my bed, completely nude, is Isla. I can’t swallow. She’s fucking gorgeous. She’s on her side, facing the door, and her curves are mouth-watering. I walk over to the bed and trail my fingers along the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip, down her thigh, and back up.

  I shuck my own clothing off in record time and get on the bed, lying facing her. She smiles at me, sweet, but unsure, and I groan. She’s going to be the death of me. I kiss her, and it’s different than before. I take it slow, just kissing closed mouth and running my fingers up and down her spine. She presses in closer to me and she’s warm, and soft, and so, so good against me.

  “Turn over,” I tell her.

  She gives me a little frown, a tiny tell that she’s unsure about what I’ve said, but she does it.

  I pull her in closer, her lush arse against my dick. Sweeping her heavy curtain of hair to one side, I kiss her neck and she sighs. I nibble at her soft skin, taking a nip of the shell of her ear. My other arm goes around her to splay over her belly and then work up toward her breasts. I palm them, feeling their heavy weight, and gently rub my thumb over her nipples. I play with her tits for a long time, getting more and more worked up, as she starts moans and rubs against me. I’m still kissing all over her neck and shoulder as I move my hand down across her stomach, to part her folds with my fingers. She’s already wet, and I groan as I begin to stroke her clit.

  It's not long before she’s doing her squirming cat-like thing and it tells me she’s ready for me. I can’t wait another moment and I push between her legs to enter her from behind. Oh, Christ. She’s perfection. Warm, wet, and tight. She grips my dick and I have to focus for a moment, or I’ll blow my load right now.

  “Ooooh.”

  Her surprised whimper stops me for a moment.

  “Don’t stop. It feels amazing.” She presses back against me.

  Reassured I’m not hurting her, I push in more, before pulling out, and then I freeze. Fuck! I got carried away. I’ve not even thought about protection.

  “What’s wrong?” She wiggles against me, and I stop her, holding her hips still.

  “I forgot the condom. Shit, I’m sorry. I never forget the condom. You get me so worked up.”

  She’s not saying anything, and I bet she’s imagining herself at risk from all sorts of stuff, with what I do.

  I sigh against her neck. “I’m clean, honey. I get checked every month, and I always wear condoms. Plus, ninety-nine percent of my clients are married and not fucking anyone else, and that includes their husbands.”

  She stiffens further in my arms. Crap, I shouldn’t have mentioned what I do. I want to punch myself in the face.

  �
�I’m clean is all you need to know. But obviously, you can get pregnant. I’m going to grab a condom.” I kiss her shoulder and start to move away, but her hand clamps down on mine on her belly, and holds me in place.

  “I’m clean, too. Obviously. Why don’t we do it like this? I want to feel you, not the condom.”

  Holy shit! I want that too, but there’s the not-so trivial matter of her getting pregnant. While a part of me thrills at the idea, the sensible side of me knows it’s a stupid thing to do. “You can still get pregnant, sweetheart.”

  She shakes her head and her hair tickles my nose. “I can’t. It’s…it’s taken care of.”

  “You’re on the pill?”

  She nods once. I should still get a condom. This is stupid. It’s another barrier between us dropped, but she feels too good. Amazing, in fact. I pull her even closer to me, and start to press in and out. Soon, she’s moving too, pushing back against me, and we soon find our rhythm. I move my hand down between her legs again, and start to strum her clit.

  “Oh.” She sighs out the one word and lets her head fall back onto me.

  I’ve got her pussy tight around me, her curves against me, her hair draping over my face. All I can see, hear, smell, and feel is her. And it’s glorious.

  “Oh, oh, oh.” She makes these panted little exclamations and I bite down on her neck gently, just nipping really. That’s all it takes, and she starts to come.

  Her rhythm goes out the window, but I don’t give a shit. She’s squeezing me like a vice, and with no barrier between us, it’s all I need. I join her, and come like crazy. I fill her up, pumping my load into her as she comes down from her own high.

  When we’re both almost back to breathing normally, I pull out of her, and scoot her into my arms, wrapping her tight.

  I’m kissing and nibbling at her neck, holding her close, and my eyes start to close. I feel so…peaceful.

  The thought brings me up short. I haven’t felt peaceful in a long time. I’m mostly…empty. And empty is an entirely different thing to peaceful. I’d rather be empty than live with the turmoil I’ve witnessed Luka grapple with, but this? This is much better. I’m feeling things again. It’s as if the world’s gone from shades of grey to Technicolor. But whereas before, I had to shut all that down, or all the bad stuff came flooding in, too. Now, in this moment, I’m only experiencing the good stuff.

  And suddenly my brain is moving in a dangerous direction. Why can’t we have a relationship? Okay, she’s younger than me. So what? Who gives a shit? It’s not like I’m fifty and she’s eighteen. We’re not too far apart in age for people to freak out over it. And yeah, she was a virgin, but she’s not anymore. Thanks to me. She’s vulnerable until whatever is going on with her dad is over, and I can help keep her safe. Maybe, just maybe, I can live a normal life. Have a girlfriend.

  I let myself imagine coming home to her, and right there is where the stupid sappy movie reel comes to a screeching halt. Yeah, come home to her after fucking other women for money. As if that’s going to work.

  So, give it up, a little voice in my head says. Could I? I’d need to find a new way to make money. Luckily, screwing for cash pays well enough that I own this house outright. And my cars. So long as I have enough to still be able to help my sis out, I don’t need all that much.

  My phone beeps, and I turn over and reach lazily for it. I see I’ve got a new email. I click on it and it’s from Sarah Ryan, the photographer. I read her message, twice. She wants to photograph me for a project she’s doing taking pictures of retired soldiers. My site says I am ex special forces in my biography section, no more detail and no real name. it’s the truth but it could easily be loads of bull. She is willing to pay me hundreds of pounds for an afternoon’s work. Why the fuck not? There’s another email from one of my old forces buddies, Liam. I open that, and can’t believe what I am seeing. He’s offering me a job.

  What the hell? This is like some sort of celestial sign or some shit. And it panics me as much as it thrills me. Suddenly the thing I thought I couldn’t have is looking possible, and once it’s possible, it’s as scary as fuck.

  I skim-read Liam’s message. He runs a security company. High end stuff, looking after the super rich. Those guys will pay thousands and thousands a day to keep safe.

  He wants to meet for a chat and a drink, but he’s needing someone with my skills. Fuck, me. Why does he need a sniper, amongst other things? Never mind why. It’s as if God is looking down on me and offering me a chance to get out of the mess I’m in. But can I do it? Do I want to? I’ve been used to doing my own thing. I earn hundreds of pounds, or thousands depending on the client and the scenario, for an hour or two’s work.

  I look over at Isla, now seemingly asleep beside me, and my heart squeezes. I don’t know if we will be anything long term, but I do know she’s got under my skin in a way no one else has. I’ve known her mere days, but she’s turned my world upside down, and I’m not willing to let her go…yet.

  She might not want this. She could turn around once things with her dad’s company are sorted and walk away. But if I’m going to have any sort of chance of getting her to stick around for a while, the screwing for money needs to stop.

  I fire off two quick emails telling both Sarah and Liam that I’ll meet them. Then I stand up, and lift Isla into my arms. I hold her with one arm, and pull the covers back with the other, then put her into bed, and climb in beside her. I’m not a nap-in-the-afternoon kind of a guy. But as I curl up next to her, my eyes drift shut and my brain closes off.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Isla

  My mouth is dry when I wake up, and Ethan’s still curled around me, his arms a warm cage. I could get used to this. He’s big and solid, he makes me feel safe and secure, but at the same time a little wild and naughty. I remember my mum once telling me a story, when I was about nine, about a bird who was caged and wanted to fly free. But the bird didn’t like being totally free either. He realised he wanted a home to come back to after he’d been exploring, and so he found a home with his friend, the squirrel. As an adult it makes no sense, but as a kid I loved that story. Now, I feel like that bird. I wanted to escape the cage of my life, to break free, and explore. But I’d still like an anchor, a home to come back to. If things were different between us, maybe Ethan could be that home.

  I push such idiotic thoughts from my mind. This is the trouble with me--my heart rules my head. Instead of enjoying this for the fun fling it is, I’m already starting to get all emo, making it way more than it is. This guy fucks other women for money. I purposefully use the harsh word, to try and jar my stupid heart out of its foolish pining. He was in the army…navy. He’s probably killed people. So, he’s a killer, and a prostitute, at what point do I think he’s relationship material?

  My dad will never allow it, even if I wanted it. And I tell myself firmly, I don’t. We’ll have our fun and then I’ll go my merry way and meet a guy nearer to my age. Someone who likes books, and board games, and quiet nights in. Someone I can trust, because I’ll never be able to trust the hot mess that is Ethan Foston.

  A car pulls up outside, drawing me out of my thoughts. There’s knocking at the door. My first thought is, what if Uncle Dave’s found me and he’s come to demand I leave? But I reject the idea, because no way can he know where I am.

  I climb out of bed, wanting to let Ethan rest some more, and pull my clothes on quickly. I head downstairs as there’s another knock, this one louder. The dogs all start barking. Great, there goes Ethan’s nap.

  Pulling the door back, I grin when I see Ann there with Katie. She smiles at me and bustles into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, but can you watch Katie for me? She’s still feeling sick, and I’ve got an interview for a job in a beauty parlour, and they’ll let me fit in around her school hours. I thought she had a bug at first, but it’s a migraine. She gets them sometimes, so it’s doubtful she’s infectious.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Ethan’s just, erm…he’s taking a
nap.”

  Her eyes sweep up and down my body, taking in what must be messy hair and rumpled clothes and she grins big. “Okay. I see. Well, if you don’t mind watching her until Ethan gets up? She’ll want to go to bed and lie down anyway, won’t you, chicken?”

  Katie nods at me, and her face is pale. I squat down until I’m on her level. “Do you want to go to bed upstairs, or would you like me to make a den for you on the sofa, and you can watch a movie with the sound down?”

  She thinks about it and then says quietly, “I’d like to lie on the sofa please, but I can’t watch a movie, my eyes hurt.”

  Ann kisses her. “I feel awful, but this is important for us long term, and Ethan is great at looking after her when she gets a migraine.”

  I should go wake him, but as I’m about to turn and head out of the room, he walks in, looking all rumpled and delicious.

  “Hey, Cute Katie,” he says. He strolls over to her and hunkers down. “You got one of your headaches?” She nods at him, her eyes large.

  “Oh, well. I know what we’ll do. Let’s take you into the living room, okay? Get you on the sofa, and I’ll draw the curtains, keep it nice and dark in there.”

  He looks to Ann. “She had her meds?”

  Ann nods. “Yep, but you know they only help a little. I feel awful, but I’ve got an interview, and long term it will be great for us if I can get it. It also means I won’t have to rely as much on you.”

  She pokes him in the chest, but Ethan gives her an exasperated look. “You don’t rely on me much, and you know I don’t mind. It’s what family is for.”

  “I won’t be too long. An hour and a half to two hours tops, I reckon.”

  “Good luck.” Ethan scoops Katie up in his arms and carries her into the lounge. He glances over his shoulder at me. “Can you grab the bedding I keep for her? It’s in the study. There’s a sofa, and the seat lifts to reveal a storage area. There’s a duvet and two pillows in there, and a small blanket.”