The Flawed Heart Series

by Wade, Ellie

  Back in my room after dinner, I’m thrilled when I see that London is online, and I Skype her.

  “Oh my gosh!” Her beautiful face fills my laptop screen as she claps with excitement. “How are you? It’s so good to see you! Wow…you’re growing a beard. Ooh…you’re totally hot with facial hair. What are you up to? How’s Cooper? Are you staying safe? Tell me everything.”

  This, right here, London’s beautiful innocence, is exactly what I needed after a day like today. After waking up to a bombing, almost getting shot on a run, watching someone die as I carried his bloody body to the hospital, and the nail in the coffin with the shitty food, this will definitely be going down as one of the worst days in my life. But looking at London’s big brown eyes that haven’t seen the cruelty in the world and her gorgeous smile that radiates naivety and love somehow makes it all better. She makes the horrible circumstances surrounding today bearable.

  God, I love her.

  “You asked so many questions that I forgot them all,” I kid.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so freaking excited to see you!” She grins wide. “How are you? Are you okay?” Worry clouds her cheerful demeanor.

  “Yeah, I’m great,” I lie.

  I know that London wants to have a one hundred percent honesty thing going on while I’m here. But that’s actually a horrible idea. The obvious reason is that I can’t tell her much of what happens here anyway, especially if it’s mission-related. Plus, I don’t see the value in telling her all the horrible stuff when there is nothing she can do to make it better, which, in turn, would upset her.

  “Are you sure?” Her face tilts, as if she’s studying me on her computer screen, her eyes squinting in question.

  “Yeah.” I force my smile to go wider. “Honestly, babe…I’m just a little tired, is all.”

  She nods. “I can see that. You look tired. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll be heading to bed here shortly. No worries. Tell me, how are you?”

  “Great. I’m heading to the airport in an hour. Georgia and I are flying into Kentucky to spend Christmas with our parents.”

  That’s right. It’s Christmas Eve. I forgot, yet the second I woke up this morning, I remembered that it was steak and lobster day.

  “That’s great. How long will you be there?”

  “I’ll be back in Michigan on the twenty-ninth, so not that long. I wanted to return in time to do something with Paige for New Year’s. Actually, we’re thinking about flying somewhere. Probably somewhere in Cali, so Georgia can join us. This is her first New Year’s being twenty-one, so she can get into a real club. Anyway, I’m bringing my laptop to my parents’, of course, so we’ll be able to chat. We need to plan a time to Skype tomorrow. It is Christmas and all. Do you know your schedule?”

  I think about my agenda for the next day. I’ll be free after dinner, so that’s about seven in the evening, which would be ten thirty in the morning for London. “I’m free anytime after ten thirty in the morning, your time.”

  “All right. We’ll probably just be finishing opening presents then. So, how’s noon, my time? Will you still be up?”

  “Yeah, that works.”

  “Great. That will be in between presents and our early Christmas dinner. Everyone kind of does their own thing then, so I can head to my bedroom and give you my complete attention.” London smiles wide.

  “Do you have your own bedroom there?”

  “Of course. Why do you ask?” London tilts her head to the side, an adorable smile lighting up her face.

  “Well, I was talking to Cooper today—”

  London cuts me off before I finish my thought, “Interesting because I was talking to Maggie yesterday.” She puckers her lips together.

  “Oh, yeah?” I chuckle. “And?”

  “She was telling me about a certain Skype activity that she and Cooper do that we have not yet tried.”

  “Huh. You know, that’s kind of a coincidence because Cooper was telling me about a Skype activity as well.”

  “So, you want to do it tomorrow?” She quirks up an eyebrow and bites her bottom lip.

  “It would be a great Christmas present,” I say playfully. “Will that be weird? In your parents’ house?”

  “No, believe me, it will be fine. First, my room is on the opposite side of the house of the main living area where everyone will be. Plus, I have a lock. No one will know. It’s a huge house. Seriously, it will be totally great. No worries.” She claps her hands together before yelling, “Oh my God…I’m so excited!”

  “You’re so beautiful,” I say with a laugh.

  “You know, I’d rather actually be with you on our first Christmas. But, since we can’t, Skype sex is the next best thing. Have you ever done it before?”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  “Me neither. Another first for us.”

  “That, it is.”

  “So, what have you been up to? Any exciting plans for Christmas?”

  Her deep brown eyes fringed in long black lashes threaten to steal my breath from over six thousand miles away.

  I can’t get over how much I love her. I never knew this love, these feelings, were possible. It’s both terrifying and amazing at the same time.

  Love…

  It’s so strange, surreal, and completely undeniable.

  I blink hard, breaking the fog of adoration that had me momentarily paralyzed. “Um, not much. It’s a typical day here. I’m sure the dining hall will serve something ‘special’”—I use air quotes around the last word because special is subjective—“for dinner, probably roast beef or something. A change in the food menu is about as much celebration as we get here on base.”

  “Are there any bars or anything around, so you can go out and celebrate?”

  I shake my head. “No. Actually, there are two general orders on base that must be followed. Number one is, no sex in the AOR, which means Area of Responsibility. So, that’s like the entire base. Number two is, no alcohol. I don’t think the guys in charge think it’s a good idea to have drunk dudes walking around with firearms, you know?”

  London nods in understanding. “Oh, yeah. Two very good rules. Not that either applies to you.” She winks.

  Man, I wish she weren’t about to leave for the airport because a bout of Skype sex sounds incredible right about now. Seeing her face makes me miss her even more.

  “Exactly. You’re not here, and I don’t drink anyway.” I take a moment just to gaze into the screen to take her in. “You know, I’ll probably just go to the gym, hang with Cooper, watch a movie with some of the guys, maybe play some cards, but none of that compares to what I’ll be doing at eight thirty in the evening.” I stare intently.

  She squeals excitedly. “Oh, I love you.”

  She leans in and presses her lips in front of her laptop’s camera, so all I can see on my end are her plump lips taking up my screen.

  “Muah!” she says before blowing me a virtual kiss. “I’ve gotta go, babe, so I don’t miss my flight. I still have to finish packing before I leave.” Disappoint sounds in her voice.

  “That’s okay. I’m just so happy that I was able to catch you online. Plus, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “Right!”

  “All right. Bye, baby. Have a safe flight.”

  “I will. You stay safe. I will see you tomorrow.”

  She blows another kiss toward the camera before she clicks out of Skype, and I’m left staring at a blank screen.

  Well, it was a shitastic day, but at least it ended on a good note. I let the vision of London fill my head as I lie back on my pillow.

  Maybe tonight, for once, I can dream of her, of happiness. Though something tells me that’s not going to happen.

  London

  “There’s just something unnatural and depressing about celebrating a special occasion without the one you love.”

  —London Wright

  “Merry Christmas, baby,” Loïc’s gorgeous face says from th
e computer screen.

  “Merry Christmas,” I respond as a blanket of happiness falls over me.

  I said good-bye to Loïc twenty-one days ago, and that time has been, without a doubt, the longest twenty-one days of my life. Yet all of that longing dissipates, or at least lessens, when I get to see his living, breathing, smiling face—even if it is on a screen.

  I couldn’t wait to see him today. I miss Loïc all the time, but the ache is fiercer when it’s a holiday. There’s just something unnatural and depressing about celebrating a special occasion without the one you love.

  “How was your day?” I ask. “Do anything special?”

  “Well, we had roast beef in the chow hall, which was a treat for the holiday.” Loïc shrugs.

  “Was it good?” I ask with a laugh.

  “It was edible. Cooper would tell you different though.”

  “That’s because Cooper is a fantastic chef and knows how food should be.”

  “True. He has less patience for the crap they call food over here.” Loïc pauses to think before continuing, “Some of the guys threw around some tinsel and green and red garland in the rec building.”

  “That’s festive.”

  “Yeah, I suppose it is. But, more than anything, it’s a pain in the ass. That silver tinsel shit sticks to everything. We’ve all been walking around base today with shreds of silver hanging on us.”

  I grin at the vision of all the guys in their camouflage fatigues and the tinsel blowing in a cheerful dance from their bodies.

  Loïc’s expression goes serious before he says, “I miss you, babe.”

  I let out a sigh. “I miss you, too.”

  “So, your day is going well?”

  “Yeah, we opened presents this morning and had a big breakfast. Now, we’re all relaxing before dinner.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “It’d be better if you were here, but, yeah…it’s good.” I steer this conversation away from depressing to exciting as I cut to the chase, “So, are we ready to exchange presents?” I pucker my lips in a grin, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh, I’m ready.” Loïc smiles big.

  “How do we do this exactly?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little shy and awkward.

  “How about you start by removing your clothes?” Loïc’s voice changes. It’s deeper, huskier, and it sends a chill down my spine as I realize we’re officially doing this.

  I comply with his command and watch as he removes his as well.

  “Turn around—slowly,” he says. “I want to take you all in.”

  I do as he asked until I’m facing my laptop screen again.

  “Grab your nipples for me, babe,” Loïc says in a raspy voice. “Tug on them a little.”

  I do as instructed while closing my eyes and pretending Loïc’s hands are on me.

  “That’s it,” he coaxes.

  I open my eyes to see his dilated blues intently watching me. His arm is moving slowly back and forth, but the camera cuts off right below his elbow.

  “Move back, so I can see you,” I breathe out. Any apprehension that I had is gone, replaced by nothing but raw lust.

  He sits further away from his laptop, and my entire body starts to vibrate with sexual energy as I watch Loïc touching himself. I’m surprised at how much it turns me on.

  I exhale as one of my hands leaves my boob to travel south. My fingers enter my body as my other hand continues to tug at my nipple. I think of Loïc and the magic that his fingers are capable of yielding, and I mimic his past movements. The pleasure is incredible, and I let out a moan, my head falling back.

  “Yes, baby…that’s it,” Loïc says. “That’s great, baby. Just like that.”

  Hearing him fuels my desire, and I begin to ride my fingers, desperate to feel Loïc inside me.

  Loïc and I are close to perfect for each other in all aspects, but our compatibility in the bedroom is out of this world. I pull out all the memories of us—moans, pleasure, kisses…his lips, hands, and mouth. I love it rough and soft, anyway I can get it, because it’s incredible with him, every time. In one movement, Loïc’s body can fill me up, pushing everything out, until I can’t focus on anything but the sensations he gives me.

  “Loïc,” I cry, my entire body humming.

  “I’m here,” he breathes harshly.

  And he is. I can feel his mouth on me as his hands tug with the precise amount of pressure on my nipples. He’s inside me, and it’s perfection, as always.

  God, I love him. I need him. I’m his forever, and he’s mine.

  That last thought sends me over the edge, and I crumble. My entire core pulses with bliss, and my body quivers in release. I let go of everything plaguing me—the worry, the longing, and the sadness. Instead, my body fills with intense satisfaction and immense feelings of love, loyalty, and visions of forever. My heart overflows with adoration, and I call out Loïc’s name. It’s the only name I want to associate with these feelings for the rest of my life.

  I’ve found my nirvana, and his name is Loïc Berkeley.

  I open my eyes in time to see Loïc groan in release. His head falls back against the chair as his fist pumps hard, producing evidence of his pleasure.

  It’s the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I can’t help but stare in amazement. His muscles are tight with a shimmer of sweat as his stroke slows, and I can’t help but think that he looks like a Greek god, my freaking Adonis. He’s so perfect, and he doesn’t even know it.

  He lifts his head, and his eyes open to find mine.

  We stare in silence. It’s easy to know the thoughts going through his mind because they’re the same ones going through mine.

  Finally, I break the silence by saying, “We are definitely doing that more often.”

  He throws his head back again but this time in laughter.

  His body moves from the camera as he grabs a towel. I do the same. After I clean up, I put my clothes back on to find Loïc dressed and waiting on my laptop screen.

  “So…how was it for you?” He smirks.

  “Surprisingly amazing,” I answer. “You know, I thought it was going to be a little awkward, but honestly, it wasn’t at all. I just imagined you and I together. It wasn’t as good as having you here with me, but it was a close second. How was it for you?”

  “Bloody brilliant!” he exclaims with a goofy grin.

  I laugh.

  “English-accent worthy, huh?”

  “Fuck yeah, baby. That’s as good as it gets over here. You’re right, we’re absolutely going to be finding time to do that more often.” His face goes serious before he asks, “What did I do to deserve you?”

  “You were yourself, and you, Loïc, my love, are pretty incredible.”

  On instinct, I reach my fingers out to touch the screen. His hand rises until his fingers are touching his screen almost seven thousand miles away. It’s not the same, not even close. But, if I concentrate hard enough, I can almost feel him, the real him, and it’s the most fantastic sensation in the world.

  London

  “If Loïc were anyone other than who he is, I would be hooking up with the Calvin Klein model in front of me at this very moment and writing my Dear Loïc letter in the morning.”

  —London Wright

  I understand why Dear John letters are so common. I truly do. The fact of the matter is that long-distance relationships suck.

  Like, really blow.

  If Loïc were anyone other than who he is, I would be hooking up with the Calvin Klein model in front of me at this very moment and writing my Dear Loïc letter in the morning. Loïc would be nothing more than some fond memories, tinged with a splash of regret.

  But, lucky for the both of us, he’s not someone I can replace. He’s a once-in-a-lifetime love that I know I will never find again if I let him go.

  So, instead, I swing back my hand and let my open palm strike the gorgeous man across his cheek. His hand flies to his face where he rubs the spot I just hit.
r />   “What the fuck?” he yells at me with anger as his eyes bulge.

  “I told you that I didn’t want to dance,” I state the obvious, shrugging my shoulders, as if smacking hot men in clubs is something I do on a regular basis.

  “And that gives you the right to fucking hit me?” he screeches in rage, his voice rising more than one octave.

  “Your hand on my ass sure does. Chances are, if I don’t want to dance with you, I surely don’t want you groping my ass.”

  He inhales, his chest expands, as if he’s about to let a slur of obscenities fly my way, before he blows the air out in a huff and stomps away from me.

  I’m about ninety-nine percent sure though that I hear him say, “Bitch,” as he goes.

  “Londy, he was so cute,” Georgia whines beside me, pouting out her lips.

  “Yeah, but I have Loïc.”

  “So? I don’t. You could have at least directed him toward Paige or me before you assaulted his beautiful face. Did you see those dimples?”

  “Oh, I saw them,” Paige says with a sigh. “And the eyes.”

  “And the jaw,” Georgia says dreamily.

  “And the tan skin. His chest looked rock hard.” Paige stares off into the sea of dancing bodies, as if she’s dying to get another look at him.

  “And his ass. Did you see his ass, Paige?” Georgia says with a slight shriek.

  I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” I say with a laugh.

  “You clearly weren’t,” Georgia agrees.

  “I was just trying to be a good girlfriend.”

  “You accomplished that. But you weren’t a good wingwoman. Not. At. All,” Georgia complains with a roll of her eyes.

  “You know what they say, London. Curiosity killed the cat.” Paige shrugs.

  “No, it didn’t,” I deadpan.

  “You put us between a rock and a hard place?” Paige questions, her eyebrow quirking up.

  “No.” I shake my head, straight-faced.