by Xavier Neal
Thankfully, I make it to our room and toss her down on the mattress. Giggling, she rips off her dress revealing a matching white bra and thong set. Her body is radiating sexy. Glowing with appeal. A beacon of warm light welcoming me home. Perfect. This woman is perfect. I slide myself down between her legs and place my lips back on hers. Hot. Hotter than they were before. She opens her lips to welcome my tongue as she pushes her hips up against me. Teasing my erection. Calling it to her. Demanding its presence in the one place it's been thinking about for the last 10 months. Home. I need to be home. And I don't know if I can live through foreplay before I get there.
Haven slips her hands to my jeans, undoes the button, and unzips them before I realize what's happening. The way her tongue is moving against mine I feel like I'm in some sort of cocoon created by the heavens. Wrapped in a soft euphoria. High but unsure how exactly. And then my jeans fall and her soft hands are stroking the outside of my boxer briefs, cupping me. Pulling away, I groan in pleasure.
“I've missed you Clint...” her voice whimpers.
My dick flexes. No. Not from her touch you greedy bastard. You have to wait until you're inside her. Until you've pleased her. Get it together! And when Haven rubs her thumb across the tip and I shut my eyes another groan coming out of me. I need her. I need her now. Now!
I reattach my lips to hers and yank her body up so I can finish the job of undressing her. And once my mission is successful and we're both naked, both tangled in my sheets, both dying to be filled by the other, I let my hands take over the duty they have been dying to reprise. Exploring her. Discovering what I already know. Letting her moans ignite the memories and the paths I need to make her body remember me. Remember that I belong to it. That I worship every single inch. And as Haven comes undone from my fingers, I strain to keep my body from following. Now she's writhing, flexing, crying out for more, and I can't take it any longer.
I lay my body on top of hers and slide into the sanctuary. The most sacred place in the entire universe. My forehead gently pushes against her as my jaw lets out a soft moan. A low whisper of her name, “Haven....”
“Oh. God.” She cries out loudly as I hit a spot that warrants the response. So I keep the pace, place, and the pressure as I hit it again. Again. Again. And now her legs are wrapped tightly around me like a dangerous need for more. Like she's terrified I'll let her go. As if distraught by the idea of us being separated once more. My name fumbles off her lips again with instructions, “Clint...don't. Stop.”
Lowering my lips down to her neck, as my hand grips her hip to allow me to dive deeper, I respond, “Never, angel.”
And with my hot breath and another stroke, she unfolds again, this time singing my name is a heavenly praise like she's experienced a miracle. Been blind but now given the gift of sight. Been deaf but now can hear the angles sing. Been enslaved but now given the gift of freedom. She is free. Free to call out like this. Free to say my name whenever she wants. Free to arch into me the way she is with her nails digging into my flesh, anchoring on my arms. Right on top of her own name. And as she anchors herself, I join her in the freedom to be lost in her. Releasing all the sadness from being without her and the pain that my days are number. Releasing the tension that only she can. I'm once again free too. Free to live again. Even if it is only momentarily.
Unsure of how long we've been passed out, since it is the best sleep I've had in months, I'm slightly annoyed when she finally starts to move underneath me. I grunt at her and pull her body in closer. It's warm. It's soft. Mine.
“Clint, baby,” her fingers stroke my hair keeping my eyes closed.
“Hm?”
“I have to go to school.”
Forcing my eyes open I see her staring at me, as bright and excited as ever. Damn. I forgot she has a life now. A real one. With places and obligations. No more just waiting for me to get back from running errands. No more filler. No more just me. I have to share her with the rest of the world. Not sure I like that.
“Right.” That fancy cooking school. Madam Phillip's Exquisite Cooking Academy. I haven't talked to her about it in months. All communication was cut off two months in. Some missions are like that. This was one. This was also the one that proved to my commanding officers that they wanted me for more than the basics. “I can't wait to hear all about it.”
She smiles brightly. “I love it, Clint! The school is perfect!” A small giggle leaves her again as she continues to gush, “We're so close to graduation too! I'm glad you'll be here for it! You're going to be so proud of me!”
“Angel,” I stroke her face. “I'm already proud of you.” And how can I not be? This girl freed herself from a prison, overcame all the emotional pitfalls most people would've fallen into, reinvented herself, and came out on top. Came out strong. Came out looking like the world was hers for the enjoying. Not to mention rescuing me in the process. How could I not be proud?
“There's so much I'm going to have to tell you,” she tosses off the blanket and pulls herself out of my grip.
My eyes follow her round behind as it relocates to the closet to grab her uniform. I love the way her back curves. Her hips curve. Her ass curves. Damn. My dick starts to tingle letting me know it can go another round. Fuck! I wish she didn't have to go to school. Would it be so bad if she skipped just once?
I realize she's been talking about something and I was supposed to be listening by the look on her face. She places a hand on her hip, a displeased look in her eyes. “Have you been listening?” My eyes shoot up from lower half as she sighs happily, “Clint Thomas Walker.”
“What do you expect? You're naked...” I shrug and she chuckles proudly. This is new too. This pride in her body. Letting it stand in all its glory before me. She was headed this way when I left, but now that she's here, she's even hotter than she was before. My cock flexes in agreement.
“I expect you to listen,” she drapes her uniform over her arm.
Sheepishly I whisper, “Sorry...”
“You don't mind if I take your car to school like normal do you?”
“Not at all.”
“You sure?” her nervousness for upsetting me slightly returns.
“I'm sure, Haven. No plans today.”
“Except the party.”
I groan in displeasure. I forgot already.
“Clint...”
“Can't we just stay home and welcome me back the way we just did?”
A slight blush comes to her cheeks. Looks like she can't believe we did what just did a little while ago. Twice. She giggles and shakes her head, “I'm sure after Mindy's party I can help welcome you home a third and fourth time...”
My balls tighten in anticipation. Haven bites her bottom lip in a teasing fashion. My cock strain against the sheets. She has to go to school. She has to go to school. She has to go to school. Repeating this mantra may be the only way she makes it.
Grabbing underwear from the dresser she informs me, “I'm heading to the shower.”
The thought of taking her against the shower wall while water rolls over her shoulders and the tops of her boobs causes me to grow harder. So hard now it hurts. Best kind of pain.
“Is that a hot shower for two?”
She pauses against the door frame, the situation from almost a year ago now in reverse. I can tell the memory is flooding to her as it is to me by the smile on her face.
“A cold shower for one...”
We both laugh and I let her go without another word. Flopping my head back against the pillow, I let my eyes fall closed. This is what life should be like. This is what life deserves to be like.
My eyes struggle against the sandman for custody of my consciousness. I need to wake up. I've slept away most of the afternoon, which is very unlike me. I don't nap. I'm not lazy. In fact before Haven I would've most likely been out for a run and a training session by now. Yet. Here I am. Rolling out of bed like some lazy college kid with nothing to do for the day. I feel a smile come on. Hate to admit it, but
it feels kind of nice.
I pull on a pair of sweats and a loose white t-shirt. My feet carry me out of my room to the stairs as dad walks in through the front door. Surprised to see me he raises his eyebrows and continues carrying the grocery bag in his arms.
“Did you just wake up?”
“Actually. Yeah I did, sir.”
“Lazy? Clint? That seems unnatural.” The comment is followed by a playful fatherly look. I smirk back. It's nice to be seen my father as his son. It's a good feeling. Seems like there are many of those going around today.
I lean against the back of the couch while I watch him put away food basics. Milk. Juice. Bread. Cheese. But then other items I'm not sure about appear too. Something with a bright yellow label and the words non-fat. Something else for the freezer labeled organic. Either Mindy has finally gotten through to my dad or his latest girlfriend is a health nut.
“Glad to be home?”
“Yes sir.”
He smiles and folds his arms across his chest as if studying me. His dark blues eyes pierce me. Read the information I don't want read. The dirt from the job that's trying to stay left behind. Memories clawing in attempt to make scars on my conscious. Horrors looking for a home in the forefront of my mind. I'm glad to be home. And glad that I can put that shit in the ground where it belongs and just enjoy my life. Even if it is for less than a month.
“Did you tell Haven?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you've got a big career change coming?”
“How--”
“I know the look, son. What is it?”
I hesitate, but know there's no reason to try to deny it. “Scout Sniper School.”
With a deep breath, his chest swells with pride. And it damn well should. He nods his approval, “When?”
“First of next month.”
And a flash of disappointment is seen. Dad doesn't want me to leaving that soon. I'm surprised. Frustrated. Uncomfortable. Up until Haven's arrival I just assumed he didn't care if I was coming or going but now I know. I know how much he loves me and hates to see me go. Reminds me of when I was little and how I used to hate to see him go.
“You have to tell her, Slugger.”
“I know, Dad. I know. I haven't even been home for a day yet. I just-” I cut myself off. I just want to have a minute to breathe. Relax. Enjoy seeing her smile before making her frown. Enjoy letting her relish in the simple fact her boyfriend is home. And maybe for a couple days be a normal couple. Go to dinner, hang out with friends, have sex until we pass out. The way a normal could should act. Fuck. Since when do I give a shit about being normal? “I just wanted today to be simple.”
“You sure that's all you wanted?”
How the hell does he does that? How does he know? Maybe this was what it was like with him and mom. Maybe. Just maybe.
“Come on, Slugger. I bought you something,” he tosses his head the way of the garage for me to follow him letting the subject die or at least I hope.
Bought me something? My birthday is a couple weeks away but I don't celebrate it. The last time I really celebrated it was the year mom was alive. Mindy tried the following year to have a party and I didn't even show up. I hid in my room, barricaded the door by pushing my dresser in front of it and refused to come out. It was the last time anyone ever tried. Mindy has a tendency to buy gifts, wrap them in birthday paper and leave them on the doorstep. Sir only bought me practical things to merely acknowledge that I was born that day. A new wallet. Shoes. A razor. I haven't received a gift from him, face to face, in what feels like a lifetime. He's worked every Christmas since mom died. Christmas morning usually spent working out then wandering in just in time for brunch and to be showered with presents. And after I hit 18, I don't recall being home for a Christmas.
Dad opens the door to the garage and flips the light on. My eyes immediately shoot to the other side of the three car garage; opposite of mom's Harley, to what I can only assume is his gift. A brand new punching bag dangling from the ceiling.
Confused, I fold my arms across my chest admiring the new addition, “Really?”
“Really.”
I'm into training. I enjoy kick boxing. Regular boxing as well. I think he gets that I like to be active while I'm off and is trying to encourage it. Or state that he understands me. That he's been paying attention to me even if I think he hasn't.
“A lot has changed since you've been gone, Clint,” the words feel cryptic and cause me to turn my attention to him. What the fuck does he mean things have changed? What could've possibly changed that much? Mindy and Doug are still married. Dad's still alive. Haven's happy. Nothing too life changing seems to have happened unless there's something he's not telling me.
“What'd do you mean, Dad?”
“I mean...” the hesitation in his voice is unfamiliar to me. Since when does he neglect to tell me how it is? Since when am I not man enough to take whatever it is he's trying to communicate with the action? “You're gonna need this.”
My mouth opens to ask for further explanation when the sound of the front door opens and I hear an exasperated sigh. I know that voice. Effortlessly my mouth curls up into a smile. She's home. My girl's home.
Forgetting all about what he was trying to tell me, I turn back in and head for her, “Angel, you're home.”
“Barely,” her annoyed growl catches me off guard. Looks like the real world isn't being sunshine and butterflies for her. It better just be normal life stress relations. I would hate to kick someone's ass my first day back. Well maybe not hate. I've been too relaxed for my own good today. Last time I let my guard this much it ended in blood shed.
With a shake of my head trying to put that thought out of mine I ask, “Bad day at school?”
“A little.” she shrugs, frustration written clearly all over her face in neon lights.
I walk over, hug her, and hold her tight. Close to my chest, cradling her. She still needs me. Needs me to hold her. To protect her. To offer her comfort. I'm grateful she still needs me.
“I missed you,” her voice coos as her hands stroke my back. “And not just today.”
Pulling away from her, I push the loose strand out of her face. “I missed you too...especially today.”
I wiggle my eyebrows and she starts giggling her mood immediately lightening. God, that laugh. My entire existence should be devoted to that sound and the life that comes from it.
Dad rounds the corner. “Haven.”
“Hey Whiskey,” she calls over her shoulder.
“How'd that test go today?” Test? What test? I should know she had a test. A good boyfriend would know she had a test.
“Not my best work.” The look of disappointment arrives once more as she pulls out of my grip and turns to face him. So that's what she's sulking about. Why does dad know and I don't? I used to be able to read her better. 10 months away is affecting a lot more than our sex life I see.
“Not you’re worst either.” It's not a question but a declaration. “No one's perfect, Haven.”
“But this test was so important,” her bottom lip slips between her teeth. “I needed this A.”
“You didn't need this A,” he corrects.
Suddenly, I realize it's much worse than me not knowing she had a test. I don't know what classes she's taking. I don't know if she's succeeding or not. The realization I know less about my girlfriend than my father has me rubbing my now tensing shoulder in an attempt to remain calm.
“Okay,” she huffs, “so I didn't need this A, but I wanted it. And I know I didn't study as hard as I could've but I thought I had it. I just kind of expected it--”
“And that's where you went wrong,” his fatherly tone is strong and takes me off guard. I never got lectures like this when I was in high school. I kept my grades up and problems to myself or Mindy when she would catch me frustrated at the kitchen bar with my math homework. To put it bluntly, I told my Algebra homework on more than one occasion to go fuck itself. “Never half a
ss study. And never expect your grades to be great just because you think they should be. You want good results. You better be putting forth the effort. Earn them.”
Haven meekly responds, “You're right.”
I prepare to jump down dad's throat for coming down so harshly on Haven when he says, “Clint is the best example of what hard work can get you. He trained for years to be in an elite unit. And his hard work will pay off.”
A small amount of pride swells in my chest. I didn't know Sir knew that I was training back then. I never thought he was paying any attention to me. Looks like I was wrong again.
“Won't it, Slugger?” His eyebrows rise. Oh. He's setting me up to tell Haven about school. Paving the way for the conversation to go that direction, prepared on standby to help if needed. But just like before, I'm not ready to talk about it. Not yet.
I offer Haven a small smile. “Always does.”
His eyes lower to a glare at me before focusing back on Haven. “You're just going to have to put in a little extra work. I know this class has been difficult for you, but don't stop the hard work. You'll get there.”
“God I hope so,” she whispers shaking her head. “Maybe I'll ask Michele for a little extra help.”
Dad merely hums and sticks his hands in his pockets. He's clearly trying to avoid the topic of her friend Michele. Maybe he doesn't like her. Maybe she's a bad influence. He would know better than me at this point.
“Shouldn't you two be getting ready?”
“Right,” his cut in helps disrupt the runaway train of despair. No need to worry about any of that right now. Plenty of time to learn. Who am I kidding? Less than a month is almost no time. But then again, I fell in love with her in minutes. Time between the two of us isn't the same as it is for everyone else. “I need to shower and shave.”
“Go ahead,” Haven insists pulling out her cell phone. “I need to text Mandy anyway.”
She lifts her gray uniform covered body and kisses me softly on the lips. I relax. All the stress from not knowing these new people, these new threats or dangers in Haven's life dissolves. The kiss is too brief but given the extra person in the room and the circumstances it's understandable.