by Tessa Teevan
Taking her hand out of my shirt, she sits up next to me. She starts to feel her way up my arms, pausing to trace the tattooed scar on my forearm. I know what she’s doing, but I’m finding myself unable to stop her. I shake my head, knowing that I need to win this bet, and I’m not going to let this seductress distract me.
I look down to scold her, but I’m frozen in my seat as her hands move to my face, where her fingers work the outline of my jaw. She moves to my lips, and I’m fighting the urge to lick the tip of her finger. As if she can read my mind, she pushes it into my mouth. Seconds later, she removes her finger, bringing it to her own lips, spreading the wetness over them. The whole time she’s watching me, and our eyes are locked. I know she’s putting on a show.
She slowly rises and brings her lips to mine. It’s a soft kiss at first, but it’s not long before she’s straddling my lap, invading my mouth with her tongue. I know I should stop this, but the forceful side of her is turning me on in such a way that I can’t think straight. She moans against my mouth as my hands involuntarily move to her ass. Her tight little body rocks over mine, wanting the friction from my hardness that I know she can feel through my shorts. I dip my hands into her pants and come into contact with straight skin.
Pulling back from her, I smile at the surprise. My girl’s going commando, and that couldn’t be hotter. Stopping her before she drives me wild, I pick her up off of me and place her back on the couch. She glares at me, knowing she’s been caught. Grabbing the remote, I rewind through the last few scenes, not wanting her to miss a minute. I settle back in and give her a look before I go to hit the play button.
“As much as I enjoyed that, babe, I can wait another hour in order to get extra time with you tomorrow,” I inform her, mentally giving myself a pat on the back for resisting her.
That earns me another glare and a pillow thrown at my face. “The blue clit master strikes again,” she mutters, and I’m on her in a heartbeat.
I push her against the back of the couch and pull her head towards me. My hand bunches up her hair, pulling ever so slightly. She whimpers as I cover my mouth with hers. My tongue begins its assault, tangling with hers in an alternating rhythm of frantic movement and slow massages. My other hand cups her breast, and I grin against her mouth when it dawns on me that she’s also not wearing a bra. I bite down on her lower lip as my thumb caresses her nipple, effectively hardening it. My thumb and forefinger come together to pinch her, and she lets out a groan as my hands drop from her body. I place one more kiss on her lips before pulling away.
“You’re going to pay for that comment, Alexa,” I tell her.
She brings her hands to her lips before replying. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”
We lounge back down on the couch to finish the movie. I think we’re both more than ready for it to be over, but we’re both trying to win the bet. She rests on my shoulder again, but this time she keeps her hands to herself.
As the movie progresses, I can feel her chuckling underneath me, but it’s not until we get to one specific scene that I know I have her. Her shoulders start shaking, and it’s not long before she’s wiping away the tears in her eyes as she watches the shenanigans of high grandmothers, Salt-n-Pepa karaoke, and Jonah Hill having the best night of his life. I grin to myself, relieved that I’ll have all night with her tomorrow.
She catches me smiling and playfully punches me on the thigh. “Dammit, you got me. I admit it. I guess I probably should’ve paid more attention to what it was about. You know I love funny old women.”
I laugh and pull her closer as we watch the rest of the movie. She’s finally let herself go and she laughs along with me. At one time she even tries to mimic the infamous robot voice. As soon as the movie ends, she’s on her feet, holding out her hand to me.
“Ready for bed?”
Hell yes.
HIS EYES roam over my body, and I burn with desire at the thought of his hands doing the same. He places his hand in mine, leading me towards the bedroom. Dropping my hand as we enter, he heads straight towards the bathroom without saying a word. I’m assuming he’s just doing his nightly routine of brushing his teeth and putting on the moisturizer I always teased him about. I find my bag sitting on the bed where Jace must’ve placed it when he’d changed earlier. I take this opportunity to change from my pants to my favorite pair of comfy shorts. They have a red and gray plaid pattern, sporting the Cincinnati C on the left leg. They just barely cover my ass, so they’ve been relegated to sleep attire, but they couldn’t be more perfect for tonight. Once changed, I move to the bed and sit down, waiting for him to come back.
Jace comes back into the bedroom and I instantly notice that he’s lost his shirt. I watch as he walks over to a duffle bag by the side of the closet to deposit his dirty clothes. My eyes are immediately drawn to the ink on his back and they widen as I take in the full display.
He turns back towards the bed, smiling when he catches me checking him out. He sits next to me, tracing a line on my face from my temple to my lower jaw before lifting my chin to meet his gaze.
“Like what you see?” He winks at me, causing me to grab a pillow and hit him with it.
“Seriously? A badass soldier can’t come up with anything better than that. Do you know how many guys have used that line?”
He gives me a dirty look before answering. “Actually, no, Alexa, I don’t. I’m not hit on by guys very often, and that’s not a line they’d use because I’m not ever checking them out.”
I fall back on the bed, laughing as he frowns at me. “Brady is going to love you. He totally thinks you’re hot, by the way.”
“Why wouldn’t he? I am, and my Greek god-like stature is apparent to all genders,” he says as he stands, flexing the muscles I wish I was running my tongue over right now.
I crawl to the end of the bed and get on my knees so I can finally explore the tattoos I’ve been wondering about since yesterday. His chest is bare, no ink, no hair, only hard muscle playing the eye candy role. My eyes wander to his right bicep, where I spotted the numbers the day before. I raise my arm to touch them, but Jace’s hand catches mine.
“Before I explain that one, you should probably see the one on my back,” he tells me, turning around so I can explore the collage that starts between his shoulder blades and spans almost all the way down to the two dimples that sit right above his ass. I’m mesmerized as I take in the work.
There’s a quote written between his shoulder blades, the first line with seven italicized words and the second with eight. It sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it, so I ask him what it means.
“You know I always liked to read when I got the chance, so that’s basically what I did when I wasn’t working while on my deployments. My mom sent me a set of Shakespeare’s works and I was so drawn into Julius Caesar. When I read the quote, I knew then and there that it was meant for me. I mean, with the war and my job, I never know what day will be my last, but this quote makes me feel like that’s okay.”
My fingers graze over the italic words as I read them out loud to myself. “Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once.”
I shudder at the thought of what this quote must mean to him, and Jace turns around to face me.
“I know it probably seems morbid, but if you really think about it, it’s so true. There are guys over there blowing themselves up because some Taliban leader is telling them to do something they won’t do themselves.”
I nod in understanding, and he turns back around so that I can study the rest of the tattoo. Below the quote is a sketch of a pair of military combat boots with what I believe is an M16 rising up from between each boot. A pair of dog tags is hanging from the handle, and a combat helmet rests on the barrel. Surrounding both sides of what I now understand to be a tribute are several names accompanied with Army ranks. I can only assume what these names mean, and it breaks my heart to think of all the loss he’s been through in his Army career.
He looks down at the tattoo on his bicep before he starts speaking. “I’ve seen a lot of things, Alexa. Things no man, woman, or human being should ever be forced to witness. I’ve seen some of the bravest men I know being shot by sniper rifle or blown up by an IED. The guys on my back? They weren’t just fellow soldiers. They weren’t just my buddies. They were my brothers. Men I trusted with my life and who trusted in me the same way. Men who I either failed or wasn’t there to help. I know it’s small, but the artwork’s my way of remembering them.”
“That’s not small, Jace. I think it’s beautiful that you wanted to memorialize them,” I tell him, running my fingers across the numbers on his right arm. “So how does this one tie in?”
“The first name I ever had tatted on my back was PFC. Chris Andrews. He went through Boot Camp and EOD school with Knox and me, and we all ended up at the same post for our first assignments. The three of us became pretty quick friends since we had to spend so much time together. Not too long after we got out of EOD school, our platoon was sent to Iraq and all three of us were on the rotation. Knox and I were pretty damn nervous, but Andrews was all gung-ho, ready to go fight for the cause.”
He pauses and I just nod for him to continue if he wants to. I know how hard it is to talk about losing someone you care about, so I won’t push it.
He gives me a small smile and continues. “That’s how Andrews was. Gung-ho about everything. In Boot Camp he always did more pushups than anyone. He was the first in our class in AIT. He was actually excited when we got our orders to deploy. I’ll be honest with you, I was terrified. Here I was, a nineteen-year-old kid who’d never left the South. I was going into an unknown country, a hostile environment, so I had no idea what to expect. Andrews was the one who kept everyone grounded.”
Taking a deep breath, he continues to tell me tales about how this guy kept morale up for most of their time in Iraq. He swallowed hard as he recounted the mission they’d been sent out on to disable a suspected IED. They made their way to the location and successfully disarmed it without fail. He shares the sigh of relief they all felt as it was the last mission they were being sent on before they were scheduled to return home. His voice got quiet as he told me about the sniper fire they underwent when they were only about a mile away from the base. They all scrambled for cover, scanning the rooftops trying to see where the fire was coming from.
“Andrews had been on the left back side of the Humvee and I’d been in the right passenger seat. I had no idea it was him when I’d heard Sgt. Parker yelling, ‘Man down.’ At that point, the gunfire had ceased, and the downed soldier was loaded into the Humvee behind us. We made our way back to base, but it was too late. He’d been hit in the neck with an AK-47 round and was killed instantly.”
I put my arms around his neck and give him a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Jace.”
He hugs me back and his shoulders fall. “I can’t believe it’s been almost nine years since he’s been gone. It seems like yesterday.”
“I know what you mean… So how do the numbers play into it?” I ask, wanting to get off the subject of death.
He smiles as if he’s reliving the memory. “The first thing I did when I got home was go to the tattoo parlor. I’d already sketched out my back tattoo, so I had that planned. It wasn’t until my boots were planted firmly on the ground back in the States and I powered up my phone that I got the idea for my arm tattoo. The first thing I saw on my phone was the date. I didn’t go as far as to kiss the ground, but I couldn’t have been happier. So when the artist was done with my back, I had him put the date on my bicep. I wanted to commemorate the day I came home safely. After that, it just kind of stuck. Every deployment from then on ended with a new tattoo, and I’ll continue to do that until either I retire or don’t come back.”
Shaking my head at his statement, I pull myself back to look at him. “Please don’t say things like that, Jace. I can’t stand the thought of you going back there in two days,” I say softly.
He brushes the hair out of my face before cupping my chin. “I’m sorry, Alexa, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean—”
I cut him off, knowing he’s thinking he’s upset me because of Ty. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone but you when you said that. After hearing about what you’ve had to see and do over there, I hate that you’re going back. I just found you again. I know it’s silly. It’s only been two days, but I can’t bear the thought of losing you again,” I say, trying to avoid his eyes.
Wrapping his arms around me, he stands, taking me with him. He turns and throws me down on the bed as he hovers over me. He comes within mere inches from my face, and I’m anxious to hear what he has to say.
“I’m trying my hardest here, babe, not to push you. I’m not lying when I say that I’m happy about how your life played out after I left. I’m glad you didn’t spend the last ten years pining for someone you knew you could never have like I did. I was happy knowing that you had a good life, a good marriage. That’s all I wanted for you. I tried, I did, but I was never able to find anyone else that I could feel even a fraction of what I felt for you.”
I’m trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out. It kills me knowing that I moved on while he was at a standstill. And he’s right. I was happy, and it blows my mind that he’s so…content with all of this. Most guys probably would’ve run away screaming after everything I admitted to him earlier tonight, but instead he held my hand and wiped my tears away. I have no idea what kind of girls he’s been dating, but clearly they’re crazy for ever letting him go.
“Do you remember the summer that we watched David Cone pitch the perfect game?” he asks me, interrupting my thoughts and causing me to wonder where he’s going with this question.
I shudder at the thought. “Of course I remember it. It was the first perfect game I’d ever watched. It just sucked that it came from a Yankees pitcher.”
Jace laughs, knowing how I’ve always detested the New York Yankees. “Do you remember what you said to me after that game?”
I shake my head, having no idea what I said to him thirteen summers ago.
“You looked at me and you said, ‘It kind of sucks for him. He just pitched the perfect game. It can never get better than that for him.’ Do you remember me disagreeing with you and accusing you of just being a Yankees hater?”
I’m somewhat in shock that he remembers a conversation from so long ago, but now that he mentions it, I can remember myself saying that. I nod my head, and he grins down at me.
“I didn’t agree with you at the time, but I learned my lesson later. That’s what you don’t get. I’m on the pitching mound and you’re my perfect game. It will never get better than you. No matter how many times I try to duplicate it, I know that it will never, ever happen. And now that I have a second chance, I’m not going to let you go as easily as I did back then.”
“Jace—”
He interrupts me by pressing his lips to mine. “You don’t have to say anything right now, babe. I know this is probably overwhelming and a lot to take in. I… There’s just so much to say and not enough time. But let’s forget that talk for tonight. I think we’ve had enough serious conversation for one night.”
I want to tell him that I feel the same, but he’s not wrong in his assumptions. I’m both thrilled and nervous at his words. A part of me knows that I’ve always harbored feelings for him, but the other part is scared of the implications of admitting that fact. He’s just told me about how dangerous his job is, so the thought of losing him terrifies me. He’s staring down at me, so I nod in agreement.
Jace gets off of me to lie on his back on the
bed. I get up and go to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and doing everything else that is a part of my nightly ritual. Coming back into the room, I slide underneath the sheets. I lie on my side away from him and he wraps his arm around me, drawing me to his body. I can’t help but think about how natural this feels. He begins to tell me funny stories he’s collected from his deployments, and it’s not long before I fall asleep in his arms, more content than I’ve felt in a very long time.
I CAN hear my alarm going off, and I struggle to find my phone on the nightstand to turn it off. Hitting the snooze button, I turn towards Alexa only to find that I’m alone in bed and her side has been all made up. Getting out of bed, I head to the bathroom to get rid of this awful morning breath before going to find her. There’s no note, so I’m mentally freaking out that our conversations last night were somehow too much from her. I splash water over my face before leaning both hands against the counter, hoping that I’m wrong. Coming out of the bathroom, I smell the scent of bacon and smile at the realization that she’s still here. I throw on a t-shirt and make my way out towards the kitchen. I manage to take two steps in the living room before tiny arms are wrapping around my knees.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead! We thought you’d never wake up,” a beaming Ava exclaims to me.
I look up and catch Alexa’s gaze. She gives me a smile and shrugs. “Sierra called and said she needed a sitter earlier than expected but offered to drop her off here. We’ve just been hanging out, watching Dora.”
“I can say hola. That means hello in Spanish. I don’t really know why they say it different, but it sounds funny, so I like it,” Ava informs me.
Leaning down, I pick her up, smiling as she throws her arms around my neck. She gives me a kiss on the cheek before she moves towards my ear.
“Mommy said that you’d probably be tired after spending the night with Aunt Lexi, so she told me to be really quiet. It was boring, so I’m happy you’re awake now so that we can play games.”