by Ava Catori
“Relationships scare me, but Scott spoke highly of you. I just got back from a tour, and I’ve got some emotional stuff to work through. It’s hard to explain what that means, but I didn’t want to drag you through it. It’s what hurt my past relationship,” he spoke honestly, and from the heart. I appreciated the truth, but hearing about a past relationship left me feeling a twinge of jealousy. “I go off as one person, and come home as another, and it takes awhile to adjust. That’s hard on both people, but I’m hoping it’s behind me. This was my last tour.”
“Was it scary?”
“Sometimes,” he said, “but you’re there to do a job, and you trust your team. Mostly, you’re focused on your assignment. I don’t want to bore you with this stuff, and honestly, it’s hard to share with people who haven’t been through it.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not prying, and I don’t mean to shut you out, it’s just its own thing.”
“Was it a long relationship,” what the hell am I doing? I kicked myself, stop, stop, close your mouth, and stop doing this.
“I was married,” he said. “It’s since ended.”
“Oh,” this took me by surprise. He has an ex-wife. Shit. I didn’t realize. I wonder if Heather knew and omitted that information, or if she was unaware. I tried to wrap my head around the idea of him having an ex-wife, but I didn’t like it.
“Why don’t we change the topic, that’s in the past,” he said, leaning over me, sweetly kissing my lips.
I was married played through my head over and over. Shit. He’s got a lot of baggage, hell, we all do, but he was married. Maybe this is a mistake. Why? It’s an ex-wife, let it go. Take it one day at a time, stop trying to dictate what this is, and just enjoy it for once.
I let his lips melt away the thoughts swirling through my brain. I knew they’d rush back later, but for now his mouth was all that I cared about. Okay, well if things stirred below, I’d care about that too.
Making love, is that what it’s called when we aren’t in love yet? I don’t know, but there was a new softness and warmth, a renewed interest between us. This time our hungry passion was tamed, and we took our time exploring each other’s bodies slower, getting to know one another on a very intimate level.
Worn, but deliciously satisfied, I curled in next to Austin. I could smell and taste my essence on his lips, after an incredible orgasm. Sprawled between my legs, he slid back up beside me, holding me, and now in the afterglow I licked his lips, which tasted of me. His tongue and fingers had done amazing things to my body, and I was limp from exhaustion.
Such an intimate pleasure shared between two new lovers, and for a moment in time it felt like he belonged to me. I hoped that feeling would linger, but I knew my own bits of jealousy and insecurity would crop up and block my way.
Chapter 7
I woke to Austin kicking, wrestling with the sheets, and didn’t know whether to wake him or let him go. It was obviously a nightmare, but I didn’t know what to do. He was sweaty, fighting, something – I couldn’t tell.
It was the first time I’d seen him go through this. Was I supposed to wake him, let him go? I knew he’d been struggling with nightmares time to time, as he’d talked about it at the tavern. He didn’t go into detail, but said it’s been rough getting back to a regular sleeping pattern. He’d mentioned that when he does finally sleep, sometimes bad dreams haunt him.
I gently nudged him, hoping to soothe him out of it. He looked so vulnerable in his sleep, and my heart broke for him wondering what plagued him. Was it something he saw when he was away? I nudged a little harder, finally pulling him from it.
“Huh? What?” He sat up, looking around. Turning he looked at me, getting his bearings back. It took him a second, but he realized where he was.
“It’s okay,” I said, stroking his arm, trying to calm him. I hope I did the right thing by waking him.
He sat staring at the wall across from the foot of the bed. Beads of sweat ran down his face, though the room wasn’t overheated. He looked at me and got up. Pacing in the bedroom, he said nothing, and then walked to the bathroom. Was it a mistake? Should I have let him sleep?
I heard quiet crying from the bathroom. I climbed out of bed and went to the door frame. “Do you want to talk?” I hadn’t seen a grown man openly cry in ages, and it tore my heart out.
“I’m fine,” he said, sniffling. “I just need a few minutes. I’ll be out shortly.”
I sat in bed, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. I felt selfish for wanting everything to be perfect out of the gate, but this wasn’t going to be a regular relationship. I knew that, I could feel it deep, and yet, I wanted to hold him, comfort him, and make it all better. I knew I’d weather the storm with Austin, whatever it might be.
When he emerged from the bathroom, he quietly slid back into bed and stared at the ceiling.
“Are you okay?”
“Just par for the course,” he said. “You should go back to sleep.”
I reached over and ran my fingers over him tenderly. My feelings were growing, but I wasn’t sure where to place them, not just yet. I didn’t know how to help him, and felt lost. I wanted to help, but it wasn’t something he was ready to share.
Austin laid there in silence, his arms tucked behind his head, as he stared at the ceiling. I fell asleep at some point, but it pained me knowing he was struggling. On waking I saw he’d finally fallen asleep, and got out of bed as quietly as I could. I stood watching him sleep for awhile, before quietly leaving the room so he could rest.
When I spoke to Heather the next morning, she told me about Scott going through some stuff when he got back from his past tours. She hadn’t told me a lot of this stuff before, and I realized there was more involved to hooking up with Austin than just sex. She promised me it would work itself out, and he’d be worth it, just to give him a little time.
I broached the topic of his marriage asking if she was aware, and Heather meekly admitted she knew that kernel of truth. She was afraid I’d form an opinion before getting to know him. She told me over and over again that he’s divorced. It was awhile ago and she’s no longer in the picture. I guess after enough times of hearing it, I finally believed it.
I scanned the internet after he went home, and searched for pictures and information on Austin and his ex-wife. I didn’t have a lot of time; I still had to get a run in and get to work. I knew it was prying, but I was curious and needed to see what I could find. It took me a little while, but I finally dug up an old picture that was online, some bridesmaid from the wedding had their picture up with their names and was blogging about what went wrong. Seriously? Friends do that shit? Note to self, watch who your friends are.
My stomach hurt seeing his wife, ex-wife. She was gorgeous, a brunette with red highlights, long hair past her shoulders, petite features, and obviously prettier than me. I suddenly felt small, not good enough, and hated myself for having looked for things in the first place. It’s not my business; I shouldn’t be digging for information. Be careful what you ask for, because you just might find it… and there I sat, disgusted with myself, and realizing his ex-wife was prettier than I am. Not a great place to be.
Her name was Emily, and her friend was obviously bitter against Austin. Screw her. How dare she do that to her supposed friends, and say mean things about him. It made me bitter, but I couldn’t stop reading, trying to glimmer any detail about my new guy that I could pick up.
Apparently he wasn’t himself, not the man Emily first married, and after he went away things changed. It wasn’t some long expose, but it was a few paragraphs – sort of like, hey you know that wedding I was in, well, this is where they are now kind of post. It pissed me off, knowing my Austin was being talked about that way, but I was more upset sitting there looking at the picture of the once happy couple. I wished I’d never looked. Now that I’d opened Pandora’s Box, there was no going back. What would Austin think of me, if he knew I was snoopin
g like this?
I couldn’t think clearly. I knew it was my own fault, but I was a mess. After pacing around my living room, I went and laced up my running shoes. A few miles into my run, I let it all go. Coming home, I was exhausted, but knew the miles I put in was better than any therapy I could pay for.
I was a few minutes late for work, but nothing my boss would chew me out about. We had pretty flexible schedules, as long as you put your time in. It had been a rough night and morning, and all I wanted to do was get lost in my work. Heather stopped by my desk and gave me a quick hug.
“We’ll talk during lunch,” she said before heading back to her cubicle.
Chapter 8
“Yes, I know Emily,” Heather started, “Austin and Scott go way back. It wasn’t anybody’s fault at first; it was just the stress of military life that made the first crack in their relationship. Then it got ugly. After awhile, Emily started fooling around because she got lonely. She stopped the affair when Austin came back home, but they were fighting a lot, she said he wasn’t the same person she married, and eventually things came to blows. She filed for divorce, and it wrapped up pretty quickly, since there weren’t kids involved.”
I sat transfixed, listening to the details about the man I was dating. I wanted every shred of detail I could get, and asked way too many questions. When it came down to it, she moved on before he did, and when he found out later she’d been fooling around on him, he was livid. He didn’t contest the divorce, and held less than stellar opinions about his ex-wife, the one willing to sleep with another man while her husband is off at war. He was crushed though in all honesty. What man wouldn’t be? You think you’re doing your part, and your partner is off doing somebody else.
Sitting in the lunchroom, Heather and I hashed over the details of his past. I admitted that we’d decided to carry on as a couple, but that I’d snooped on the internet after he left. I was embarrassed to tell her at first, but being a woman, I knew she got that. I just wish I hadn’t looked at the picture, because I kept seeing her face and how pretty she was. How could I compete with that? I was simply average, okay maybe a little above average in looks, but she was downright stunning. Obviously a bitch, but a stunning bitch at that.
I hated Emily, hated her with a passion. I didn’t even know her, but that she hurt him so deeply, I was crushed. I wanted to wrap him in my arms, tell him I knew the details and that I wouldn’t hurt him that way. Only, I couldn’t tell him any of this. He couldn’t know I’d snooped, or he’d be pissed and wouldn’t trust me. I made my own bed, and had to deal with it.
Austin and I dated about twice a week, and continued getting to know one another. On the weekends, I either slept at his place, or he slept at mine. I had a little more room at my place, so we settled there more often. We were currently following a pattern of Tuesday nights we’d have dinner out and snuggle a bit, maybe watch television together, but then go our separate ways at the end of the evening. Saturdays were all day lust filled fun, and we’d pick an activity or two. Whether it was lunch out, a movie, a walk, a wine tasting, it didn’t matter, it was time with Austin.
Work was work, and Austin had his own stuff going on. The military had their own schedule of training, rules, and we worked around those things as well. Sometimes he was around, sometimes he wasn’t. I grew used to it, but counted down the days until he would be free of this lifestyle. I looked forward to a normal life and schedule.
Things were pretty calm and moving along smoothly. We connected emotionally, and while I’d like to claim it was love, I didn’t know if it was. Well, I knew I’d fallen in love with Austin, but I didn’t have a clue what his feelings were. He didn’t express them deeply, and while I felt cared about, and we shared a deep intimacy in bed, I just didn’t know where he stood in our relationship. I wanted to believe he loved me, but maybe it was too soon.
After a Saturday night of mind blowing sex, I went out for my usual run while Austin slept in. Coming home, I quietly climbed into the shower, wanting to freshen up before my guy woke up. The water felt good, and standing in the water I relaxed.
The hot water sprayed over me, washing away the salty grime from my sweaty body. My head always felt so much clearer after a run. I was enjoying a leisurely wash up when the shower curtain opened.
“Mind if I join you,” he asked with a schoolboy grin. Austin stood there smiling and naked, ready to get in.
I smiled and watched him as he joined me. His body was a thing of beauty, strong, and masculine. I loved his chest, solid and muscled, and his broad shoulders. I picked up the soap and ran it over one of his tattooed arms. “Hey, good morning,” I whispered, before leaning in to kiss him.
His kiss was sweet, and standing in the water we enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. I don’t think I’ve enjoyed kissing someone more. He did something to my heart and mind, leaving me breathless and happier than I ever remember being.
Austin reached over and took the soap from my hand, slowly bringing the bar to my chest. He drew small, lazy circles around each breast. The steam from the hot water left tiny bits of mist in the air. Closing my eyes, I saw nothing but darkness, drifting along in the sensation he offered.
The smell of the soap played in the air as he lathered my body. It was a springtime fresh scent, and right now it was heavenly, combined with each stroke across my skin, accompanied by Austin’s hand. My head felt dizzy in the most delicious way, enjoying his caresses.
Placing the bar of soap back in its holder, he rubbed his body against mine, spreading the lather between us. Pressing against him, grinding, I was highly aroused. Sliding together, we played with the slippery feel of the soap and our slick bodies.
I turned so he could take a turn under the shower spray, and ran my hands across him, helping push the suds down, letting water and gravity do the rest. The small bubbles spilled down the length of his legs, and then spun around the drain before disappearing.
Austin’s fingers were tight on my ass cheek, groping and squeezing me. With a playful spank, he paddled my rear. Laughing, I squealed and told him to stop, but he continued on, lightly spanking my ass. Each new slap across my fleshy cheek brought out an arousal that I wasn’t expecting. The sound bounced around the tiled wall. I was getting hotter and hotter with each passing moment, and soon my hips started to grind on their own in a slow and steady rhythm.
“Mmm, looks like somebody likes this,” he said, lowering his head to my breast. Teasing me, he paddled my bottom lightly, while suckling my nipple. “It’s my lucky day, I’ve found a secret little desire.”
Light moans escaped my lips and echoed through the tiled room. Austin turned me to the wall, and pressed me tightly against it. Our kisses grew more heated, and hands roamed. I could feel his hardness swell against my hip and wanted to feel him inside of me.
The water sprayed over and around us, and in those next few moments, I was lost in our kisses, feeling his soft, sweet lips pressed to mine. Our tongues explored one another. I gently sucked and nibbled his lip, and then got lost in a passionate kiss once again.
Lifting my thigh, he slid into me, and together we bonded intimately. Groans and whispers bounced around the tiled walls, and as we finished, moans of pleasure filled the room.
Cleaning up yet again, we finally turned the water off and reached for towels. Drying off, I headed to the bedroom, “I’m thinking pancakes,” I called over my shoulder.
Austin stood drying his body. Tossing his towel over the rack, he grabbed his toothbrush. “Sounds good,” he said, his mouth full of foam, as he brushed vigorously.
Tossing on a t-shirt and panties, I padded into the kitchen to start breakfast. I was famished between my run and our shower encounter, and was ready for some food.
I should have known he’d start trouble as soon as he saw the pancake spatula. “Stop that,” I said hopping around, as he swatted at my bottom. We were laughing, and when I finally finagled the spatula back, I was able to flip the pancakes before they burned. “Grea
t, now I’m flipping breakfast with a dirty spatula,” I pouted.
“You’re clean. You just got a shower, and your panties are fresh from the wash,” he winked. “I think you like that. I could totally see us adding a little extra sensual spanking to our escapades.”
I smiled, pretended to be offended, and then broke, “Sure, twist my arm,” I teased. “What can I say; the girl likes her bottom pink sometimes.” Austin came in and was groping me. “How am I going to get this stuff done? Sit down at the table,” I pointed. “Let me finish here.”
“Fine,” he playfully pouted, “if I must.”
Serving up breakfast, I grabbed the syrup and butter and joined him.
Sitting across from Austin while finishing my pancakes, I smiled watching him eat. I was in love, and there was no denying it.
Chapter 9
Austin was making plans, with less than a year to go, he’d be out of the military. He was hoping to go back to school and start a new career. While the idea of psychology appealed to him, he wanted the stability of having a trade, and was thinking more along the path of electrician or heating and cooling, knowing there’s always work. He even thought about starting his own business over time. With four years in the army, his ideas of what he wanted had changed over time. He’d have four years of inactive reserve to account for, but he was hoping his time was coming to an end. Many of his friends re enlisted, but he knew a military career wasn’t for him.
When the news came that he’d have to serve another tour, he took it hard. Someone fell off of a roster, and he was used to fill the gap. He had a little over six months notice, but he’d be going back overseas. He wanted to step up and help his unit, but thought he was finished with tours. He’d all ready served two and thought he was done. He was a mix of emotions. He’d finally stabilized after coming back, blending into civilian life, and the thought of having to do it again overwhelmed him. The nightmares had started to subside, or at least happen less often, and he was torn over the mental energy it would take to go back.