by Mia Ford
“I’m still in the Navy,” he said, holding out his left bicep and tugging up the sleeve to show me the large tattoo of an eagle perched on a ship’s anchor holding a trident and an old timey pistol in its talons. “Captain Shane Mavic, US Navy SEALS. At your service, ma’am.”
“Wow, look at you,” I said, slapping at his arm like a flirty teenager. It was like hitting a boulder. “I thought you hated the water.”
“I did,” he said with a smile that made my heart flutter. “Still do. But I have learned to deal with it.”
“Wow,” I said again, because I couldn’t think of a better word. “So, you’re here to pick up your mother’s dog?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could just keep it and do something with it,” he said, making it sound like he was asking me to take out the trash. “I’m not really a dog lover and I can’t take it back to Iraq, so—”
“Here you go, Mr. Mavic!”
Shane looked up just as Wendy shoved the little white Maltese in his arms. Biscuit immediately climbed his round chest, making her way to his face so she could lick his chin. Shane grabbed her around the middle and held her out like she was a baby with a dirty diaper.
“Oh my god, Shane, she’s not going to bite you,” I said, giggling at him. I took Biscuit and cuddled her to my chest. The six-pound Maltese wouldn’t take her eyes off Shane. Her tail wagged to beat the band as if she could sense that he was the son of her beloved mistress.
“Like I said, I’m not much of a dog lover,” he said, wiping dog spit off his chin with the back of his hand. He gave me a pleading look. “Can you find her a home? I mean, I’ll pay for her boarding and food until you do.”
“Wendy, do we have anyone looking to adopt a small dog?” I asked.
“Not that I know of,” Wendy said, her eyes bouncing between me and Shane. I could hear the gossip gears turning in her head. “And I’m afraid we can’t keep her in boarding because we are fully booked this weekend.” She looked at Shane and sighed. “You’ll have to take care of her until Monday.”
“What?” Shane looked like he was about to argue, but then blew out a long breath and started to nod. “Okay, um, exactly how do I do that?”
“Do what?” I asked as I shoved Biscuit back into his arms.
“Take care of a dog?”
“Such a helpless boy,” I said, teasing him like I used to when we were kids. I took a step closer and scratched Biscuit behind the ear. Shane was staring at me. I could feel his eyes caressing my skin. “Tell you what, why don’t I come by your place after we close and bring Biscuit with me. I’ll also bring a dog bed and enough dog food to get you through the weekend. Maybe by Monday we can find her a permanent home. I assume you’re staying at your parents’ old house?”
“You wanna come to the house?” Shane asked slowly. I could see the same look of hesitation that clouded his eyes when I brought up the subject of coming to his house when we were kids. Even though his daddy had been dead for years, Clint Mavic’s ghost still haunted his son’s thoughts.
I took Biscuit from him and cradled her to my chest. I brushed little white dog hairs from the front of his shirt with my fingertips. I saw his nipples harden beneath the thin material. I felt my nipples plump in my bra. I could feel the heat of his body radiating through my fingertips. I could feel hot moisture pooling between my legs. I resisted the urge to glance down at his bulge. I could feel Wendy behind me, watching us like a hawk.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” he said, his eyes studying mine.
“It’s not a bother.” I gave him a coy look, trying to put him as ease. “You are staying at your parents’ old house, correct?”
“Yes. On Dilbeck.”
“Good, then we’ll see you in a few hours.” I held up Biscuit to his face. Her tail wagged as she stuck out her tongue at him. “Do you want to give her a kiss goodbye?”
“No, not her,” he said, putting his hand on my arm. He leaned down and kissed my cheek. His lips lingered on my cheek for a moment, then he slowly pulled away. I resisted the urge to drag him into my office for a welcome home fuck. There would be time for that later, if that’s what he wanted.
“Sir, did you want to pay your bill?” Wendy was behind the counter, watching us, grinning. It thrilled her to interrupt our moment. I guess she had never seen me drool over a man before.
“Oh, yes,” Shane said, reaching around for his wallet. He stepped to the counter and handed her his credit card. “Here you go.”
“Okay, then,” I said. “We’ll see you around seven-thirty.” I held Biscuit close to my cheek and started toward my office. I paused before going through the door and turned back to look at him.
“Something else?” he asked, his dark eyebrows arched.
“Biscuit says we’ll be hungry,” I said, smiling. “Wanna order us a pizza?”
He smiled back and arched his dark eyebrows. “Thin crust, meat lovers, extra cheese?”
“Good memory,” I said with a wink. “See you soon, Shane. We’re glad you’re home.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me, too.”
Chapter 14: Shane
Annabel Lee was always at the back of mind, regardless of where I was or what I was doing or who I was doing it with. She was always sixteen in my mind’s eye because that was my last point of reference; a skinny girl with promising boobs, Indian skin and cheekbones, long black hair, and dark brown eyes. I often tried to imagine how she would look now, all grown up, a woman, no longer a girl. I knew she would be beautiful, even more beautiful than when she was a gangly kid, but I had no idea just how beautiful she really would be until I turned and saw her staring at me from across the lobby of her office.
My heart literally missed a beat when I saw her standing there. It was like seeing an angel waiting to usher you into Heaven. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, like I was seeing a ghost or letting my imagination replace my reality. Only when she smiled and came at me with her arms out did I start to believe it was real. Then she wrapped her arms around my waist and melted into me, her head on my chest, my nose in her hair, the smell of her shampoo, the sound of her breathing. It was real. After all these years Annabel Lee was back in my arms where she belonged.
As I left her office my feet were barely touching the ground. I could not remember the last time I had felt so… so… fuck… what was I feeling? I thought I might even be smiling. I was warm all over and I knew it wasn’t just from the sun beating down on me as I climbed into the rental car and drove away. Then the radio was on. I was humming. What the fuck? I don’t hum…
Her smile lingered in my mind. Her words tickled my ears like feathers.
“See you soon, Shane,” she’d said. “We’re glad you’re home.”
“She’s glad I’m home,” I said, smiling at the man staring back at me in the rearview mirror. “She’s glad I’m home.”
I shook my head and chuckled out loud, then took a last-minute turn into the Food King parking lot to pick up a few groceries for the week. It looked like I might be sticking around for more than a few days after all.
* * *
I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d pushed a shopping cart around a grocery store. I ate in the mess hall when I was on base. I ate rations in the field and fast food when I could get it. I never shopped for groceries because I didn’t cook. Hell, I didn’t even buy beer or liquor from a store. I had witnessed what booze did to my old man. I’d never touched a drop of the stuff and I never would. When I was carousing the bars with my pals I drank Coke or Ginger Ale. My SEAL buddies never failed to give me a ton of shit for it, but I was usually the sober one leaving with the best-looking woman at the end of the night.
The Navy had spoiled me to my own detriment. I hadn’t had to fend a meal for myself in years and the contents of my buggy proved that fact. Since I had no clue what to buy, I decided a good strategy would be to fill up the buggy with the crap I recognized that I used to eat as a kid.
So far, I had
four boxes of Pop Tarts (one cherry, one strawberry, and two brown sugar cinnamon), three giant bags of chips (Ruffles, barbecue, and sour cream and onion), a stick of bologna and a pack of hot dogs, a box of crackers and a loaf of bread, a bottle of ketchup, and three 64-ounce bottles of Mountain Dew and one Coke. I also had two boxes of Lucky Charms and a gallon of whole milk, and six microwave burritos that had a picture of a jackass wearing a sombrero on the side. I hoped that wasn’t indicative of how they would taste.
I was standing in the produce department wondering how you could tell if a watermelon was ripe when I saw her. A pretty blonde with big hair and big tits and a big smile, all of it heading my way. I tried to place her. When I glanced into her eyes her name came to me, as did the memory of her lips on my cock and the feel of her round ass cheeks in my hands. It was Juju. Juju Wheeler. The girl who cost me Annabel Lee. No, that’s bullshit. What Juju and I did was my choice. It was my fault. I couldn’t lay one ounce of blame on her, no matter how hard I had tried over the years.
“Oh my god,” she squealed as she rolled her buggy up next to mine. “Shane Mavic? Is that you?”
“It’s me,” I said, feeling my face flush for some reason. She had her arms out, wiggling her fingers at me.
“Well give me a hug,” she said, her Texas twang in full bloom. I leaned down so she could hug my neck. I put my hands on her waist rather than around it. She pulled back and held my face between her hands. “I swear to the good lord above, it is so good to see you. How long has it been?”
“Eleven years,” I said with a nod. I resisted the urge to spell it out in the precise number of days, minutes, and seconds. “How are you?”
“Well, I’m just as fine as I can be,” she said, taking a step back and looking me up and down. “Look at you. All grown up. And, oh my lord, would you look at those muscles?” She gave my right bicep a squeeze. “Hard as a rock is what you are.”
“Well…” I didn’t quite know what to say. I hadn’t spoken to Juju since the night Annabel caught her blowing me in the back of my mom’s car. I saw her at school after that, but always managed to avoid talking to her. It was probably a shit move on my part, but I was trying to convince Annabel to take me back and I knew associating with Juju wasn’t going to help matters. I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the buggy and mustered a smile.
“Well, when did you get home?” she asked, still smiling.
“Yesterday.”
“You home for good?” Her eyes sparkled with promise. Time had been good to her. She was still beautiful, buxom, shapely, with plump lips and eyes that glistened in the bright store light. She was wearing a red pants suit and more jewelry than King Tut. She looked like she was doing well for herself. Or had married a guy who took good care of her.
“No, just a few days,” I said. “My mother passed, so I’m here to get her house cleaned up and on the market, then I’ll be gone.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said, poking out her lower lip like a pouty kid. “Where are you living now?”
“All over. I’m currently stationed in Iraq.”
“Iraq?” She said it like eye rock. “Lord, why would you wanna go there?”
I decided not to show off the tattoo on my bicep. “I’m in the Navy.”
“Oh, a Navy man,” she said, smiling, giving me a wink. “Well, look at you.”
“Yeah, look at me.” I took a deep breath and blew out as I pretended to look at my watch. “Wow, I didn’t realize the time. I have to get to my uncle’s house for dinner.”
“Wait, before you go,” she said, holding up a finger. “Let me give you something.” Her purse was in the child’s seat of the buggy. She opened it and quickly came out with a business card. She handed it to me and waited for me to read it.
“You’re a real estate agent,” I said.
“I’m the number one ReMax agent in town,” she said proudly. I didn’t ask if she was the only ReMax agent in town. That would have been rude even for me. “I’d love to come by and take a look at your mama’s house. I bet I can get it sold for you lickety-split.”
“It’s in pretty rough shape,” I said.
“Well, that’s not a problem,” she said, swiping a hand at me. “I can just take a look and let you know the best way to sell it fast. Either as a fixer upper or a flip or maybe even a tear down.”
“A tear down?”
“Yes,” she said, eyeing me pitifully, like she was breaking bad news to a little kid. “The new owner would basically buy the land and tear it down to put up something else.”
“I see.”
“So, how about this weekend? I can swing by Saturday afternoon if that’s all right with you.”
“Uh, okay, that would be good,” I said, still holding up the card. “You know where it is?”
“I do.” She reached out and took the card from my hand, then reached around to tuck it into my back pocket. She was close to me now, her lips just a few inches from my ear, her perfume lingering in my nose. “And maybe we could catch up, I mean, if you’d like to.” She traced a fingernail down the center line of my chest and softened her eyes at me. “We never really got to finish what we started. Maybe this time, we will.”
* * *
I got away from Juju as quickly as I could. I regretted bumping into her. It was good that she was a realtor and could help me sell the place. It was not good that every time she looked at me she licked her lips like a hyena about to devour a baby goat and batted her fake lashes like she was spelling out “fuck me” in Morse code. I could tell what she was thinking by the sexy lilt of her voice and the way she let her eyes go dreamy when she looked at me. She was a hot piece of ass and in another time or place I might have been interested, but honestly, all I could think about at that moment was what Annabel would say if she saw me talking to Juju. I thanked her without returning the hug she offered and said I’d see her on Saturday.
* * *
I got back to the house around six. I quickly put the groceries away and jumped in the shower, knowing Annabel would be there by seven-thirty or so and I still had to order the pizza. I didn’t realize until I was in the shower with the water running that I hadn’t even thought about bringing or buying soap or shampoo. Fortunately, my mother still had a bottle of generic shampoo that was a few months from expiration (does shampoo expire, really?) and a half worn-down bar of Irish Spring in the holder. My mother always smelled of Irish Spring and cheap shampoo.
It took less than a minute to wash my short hair, then I used the lather from the shampoo to wash my body. I couldn’t help but think about Annabel as I soaped up my cock and balls and taint. Her face, her eyes, her lips… My cock got hard in my hand and within a minute I was coating the shower wall with my cum. It was like having déjà vu. I had shot my load on that shower wall dozens of times as a horny teen. I rinsed off my body and took down the shower handle to clean the wall, then turned the water off and reached for a towel.
The house was neat as a pin and the old air conditioner finally had the place cool enough that we wouldn’t sweat to death, although sweating with Annabel was one of my favorite past times. I poured myself a tall glass of Mountain Dew and sat at the kitchen table to call Dominos. One large thin crust meat lovers with extra cheese, please. I hung up the phone and sat back to catch my breath.
I glanced at the old Tom the Cat clock hanging on the kitchen wall, his crooked tail methodically clicking back and forth in sync with the second hand. It was a quarter to seven. Annabel would be here within the hour. The thought of seeing her again made my heart speed up with anticipation.
She’ll be here soon…
And just what the hell did I plan to say to her?
Should I start with an apology for something that happened a decade ago and beg for forgiveness?
Or should I keep my mouth closed and let her do the talking, hoping that the topic of Juju and our betrayal never comes up? Was Annabel the type to leave the past in the past? To let go of old anger
and embrace new possibilities? Of course not, but neither was I, so I knew I had better brace myself just in case our reunion got off on the wrong foot.
Whatever it took, no matter how large the apology or how much crow eating was required, I would have Annabel in my arms and on my cock before the night was through.
If not in reality, then in my dreams.
Chapter 15: Annabel
Sitting there across the table from one another in his mother’s kitchen, ravenously devouring the pizza and gulping down large glasses of Mountain Dew and Coke between bursts of laughter, it was like we had never been apart. It was as if Shane had not cheated on me with Juju. Like he had never gotten in the car with Kenny the night of the horrible accident. Like he had never confronted his father with such tragic results. Like he had never gone away. Like we had never spent a day or a night apart. Like I was still in love with him madly. That’s what it felt like in that moment. Sadly, I knew all moments pass and this one would, too.
Biscuit the Maltese was sitting patiently on the floor now, waiting to clean up whatever crumbs we might drop. The little dog was around ten-years-old, but still acted like a puppy, standing on its hind legs, dancing in circles hoping she’d be rewarded with food. Shane couldn’t resist pulling cheese off the pizza and feeding little bites to her.
“You should not feed a dog people food,” I said, scolding him with my eyes. He just smiled and kept offering Biscuit bites of cheese.
“Is this people food? Really?” he asked, giving me a sideways grin.
“It’s what passes as people food when you’re starving,” I said. I let my eyes drift around the kitchen. It was neat, almost like no one had lived there for a very long time. “So, you’re going to sell the place?”
Shane wiped the grease from his fingertips and picked up his drink. “I have no use for it,” he said, looking around. “You want it?”
“Why would I want it?” I asked.
“Your receptionist told me you lived above your practice,” he said with a shrug. “This place ain’t much, but it has to be better than that.”