Different as Night and Day

by Lennon, Leigh

  Leaning back, he pulls at my panties with one finger, watching me, my own anticipation at his touch. He stands as I lie in wait for his hands to ravage all of me, his commanding nature demanding and challenging me, orchestrating my body like a composer.

  “Hell, darlin’, you’re so beautiful, every little part of you is my forever. You better know I’m not letting you walk away from me again.”

  He pushes my legs apart and I ache for him. “Please, Sarge. Don’t make me wait.”

  He chuckles, a sparkle in his eyes I’ve never seen. “Oh, you’ll soon find, I call the shots in the bedroom, but making you wait means making my southern gentleman wait and I can’t do this.”

  He falls to his knees on the edge of the mattress, his fingers finding my clit. “This is mine. Your orgasms are mine. Your heart is mine, and sure as fuck, this pussy is all mine.”

  I’d known the differences in Scott and Maguire for a long time but every layer of Maguire he reveals, shows me how it’s truly only him I’ve fallen in love with and not the memory of my late husband.

  The way he says pussy makes me desire his dominance. I’ve never had this—letting go with sex. With his words and the circular motion of his fingers, my orgasm builds, and I can’t hold on one more second. He leans down to kiss my cheek as I let him and his magic fingers continue to bring me to the brink of such carnal pleasure.

  “I’ve made it my mission to study you.”

  A memory hits me now. “And you’ve watched me, too, right?”

  His little shrug tells me what I’ve always known when he returns tit for tat. “And you?”

  “I think you know the answer to your question. I still fall asleep to the memory of you stroking your cock.” I’ve never talked this sensual, not even with Scott, not even when we’d made love.

  “You and your vibrator have given me so much ammunition through the lonely nights.” He’s still hovering above me, but as quick as he’s over me, he slides back and I feel him at my very sensitive entrance.

  “Please, Sarge, don’t tease me, I need you.”

  “I don’t want a barrier between us, darlin’. There’s been no one since we’ve been back from North Carolina and before, I was always careful.”

  I still and the air whooshes from my body. “No one? But all those nights with…”

  “Friends, darlin’, we’ve been only friends since you imprinted your heart on my own.”

  As I’m attempting to process his words, his mouth crashes to mine again shutting me up. Pulling back, he starts, “Darlin’, it’s only been you.”

  “And you—I’ve been with no one, since…” I don’t finish the sentence nor does he need me to. But it doesn’t freak him out.

  “Listen, darlin’, promise me we won’t ever pretend Scott never existed. Even with us, as this, he’ll always be the reason we love one another.”

  And when he explains it in this way, what Maguire and I share doesn’t seem wrong, not anymore.

  With his body hovering over me, he pushes gently into me and I welcome the intrusion. He’s slow, so slow, so methodical. Taking my nipple into his mouth, I let out a long moan as he speeds up.

  His eyes connect with mine. “Don’t ever leave me, Holland, promise me now.”

  I’m on the verge of another orgasm, when I reply, “I promise you, Sarge. I won’t ever leave you.” It’s a pledge I intend to honor.

  His in and out motions only build the deep sensation in my stomach and I know I’m close. But the devious asshole slows down—his all knowing smile telling me he’s messing with me. This is the definition of us. Love overflowing as he playfully messes with me.

  His lips hover over mine and I lift my head slightly, biting his lip, pulling his head down with mine. And with the intensity of this kiss, he speeds up again, the wonderful sensation of my body heightening with him plunging deeper inside of me.

  “Don’t stop this time, you sadistic bastard,” I tease when he pulls his lips from mine. But even in my joking, the intensity of our bodies merging together, forming one, causes me only to stare into his eyes as my orgasm begins to build.

  “I’m not pulling out, darlin’, I’m marking you as mine. I’m going to fill you up and the world be dammed. You’re mine.”

  And the thought of carrying his baby only causes my orgasm to come on stronger. He falls on top of me, pulling my face to his, cupping it gently. “You’re mine, admit it, darlin’.”

  “I’m yours, Sarge, forever.”

  Chapter 20

  He tugs me into his body. “Hell, darlin’, you’re everything I want in this world.”

  He squeezes my body, and I giggle. “I’m not going to disappear, you can let up on me a bit, though.”

  His lips pepper kisses down my cheek, landing on my mouth. “I love you so much. I never saw a future with a wife and kids again, but with you—you paint a picture of my future so vividly.”

  I lean toward him on my elbows. “Sarge, listen to you and your poet-like words. It’s so romantic. You may be setting yourself up for failure in the future when you just say—let’s have sex. I’m going to want these more romantic moments.”

  He pushes me onto my back and he’s on top of me. “Oh, my words are in my actions and my cock…”

  When a snort escapes my mouth, I laugh so hard. “See, and there it goes, the romance is out the window with the bathwater.”

  “Oh, darlin’, you want romance, you’ve seen nothing yet.”

  He leans down to kiss me and I don’t duel with him, I give in as our tongues dance together. “I feel we need to talk about what just happened,” he almost whispers, bringing me back into his embrace.

  “Hell, I know you’re old, but have you lost your memory? Do you need me to draw you a map?”

  He starts to tickle me when I relent. “Okay, okay, I give. What do you want to talk about?”

  His hand is tracing invisible shapes on my naked stomach. “This—you and me. Are you really okay with all of this?” Maguire asks.

  “Hell, I’m at home in your arms, but if you want the truth, I’m scared. Not about what people say—only for Scottie. But I’m so tired of denying you. It has been so much work and tonight, when I was out with Evan, though I could have been attracted to him.” He snarls at my words. “Let me finish.” He still has a scowl on his face. “All I wanted was to be with you and Scottie. It’s all I ever want in this world…”

  He gently pinches my nipples and it elicits a moan from me. “Is this your long-winded way of saying…”

  I cut him off. “Yes, Sarge. It’s my long-winded way of saying I’m okay with you and me—the two of us.”

  He kisses me one last time and I fall asleep in his strong and loving arms.

  A rogue arm reaches over me in my slumber and I wake, taking a second to acclimate to my new environment. To my left is the naked and beautiful body of Maguire. He’s on his back, a light snore seeping from his mouth. I push up on my elbows, taking in the features of him, and only him.

  This should feel wrong but I’m tired of apologizing to myself and my late husband for the intense feelings flooding me concerning this man. This will be met with so much opposition, but a love as strong as what I feel for him can’t be wrong at the end of the day.

  As though he knows what he’s doing in his sleep, his hand travels from my nipples to my legs. Part of me wonders if he’s faking but I have a feeling with Maguire, he doesn’t play around. If he were really awake, he’d be pushing inside of me, making up for all the times I have flaked out on him. With him, I see Saturday mornings, him making pancakes as I try to wake up. Walking to the lake, Scotland between us holding both our hands. And maybe another baby or two. But my fantasies of the future don’t stop my bladder from making me leave his embrace. And because I know very little of this bedroom, I don’t navigate the darkness of the room. I make a beeline for the other bathroom, not a care in the world.

  Leaving my old bathroom, I walk p
ast Scottie’s room and see the door is open. Oh, no wonder I heard my baby earlier. Walking in, I don’t see her. Ah, I bet Maguire snuck out of bed to check on Scotland. He’d once told me he wakes quite often to check on her when she’s at his place.

  I can’t wait to get back into bed with my girl and my man. I’m almost expecting coos to fill the room when I open the door to Maguire still on his back. They must have fallen asleep. Pulling the covers back, I don’t see Scottie and peer over the other side of him.

  Moving around in bed to get a better view of Scottie next to Maguire, he begins to wake. “Hey, beautiful. What are you doing?” Pulling me over him, his smile is evident, as is his erection.

  “Wake me up any time for this. I’m willing and ready.” He begins to chuckle.

  “Well, hello to you, too.” I lean down to kiss him, still looking for my baby. “Hey, where’s Scottie?” I ask.

  “Um, what?”

  I’m sitting on his stomach and playfully smack him. “Nice try, Sarge. Scotland—I was just in her room, because the door was cracked. She’s not in her crib. What did you do with her?”

  He sits up immediately, our faces mere inches from one another. “Darlin’, I don’t have Scotland.”

  I’m out of bed, running to her room, positive I missed her, maybe in the corner, cuddled under the covers. Maguire is on my heels and we both turn on the light, not afraid to wake her. I’m sure we’ll be laughing about this in bed as she’ll be between us, but when the light is on and I move her blanket, she’s nowhere to be seen.

  She’s in front of the sliding door with me behind her, the lock disengaged. “You locked it, right?”

  Beads of sweat are forming on my forehead and underarms. I rake my hand through my hair. Every second that goes by is another second our baby is not with us. Every second that ticks away is another second Holland is without her daughter.

  “Answer me!” She’s screaming. But I had, I remember it. I know I had. I grab for my phone, sitting on the island, finding the name and hitting call. The second he picks up the phone, I already know the answer to my question. “Did you come back to the house? Do you have Scotland?” My words are hurried.

  “M, what? No, I don’t have Scotland. What do you mean? You had her when I left.”

  Holland is wearing out the carpet in front of me biting her fingers, tears streaming down her face. “Gotta go, Ned.” I hang up, tossing Holland her phone. “Call 911.” She’s visibly shaking, barely gripping the phone tight enough.

  I’m pulling up my feed, the cameras placed on the service road leading to and from my property on both sides. Holland’s screaming into the 911 operator’s line as she answers questions like ’are you sure she’s not in the house, hiding.’ I have the film on fast forward when Holland replies, “She’s ten months old, not even walking. Sure as shit, she’s not here.”

  The second I see brake lights on the security feed, I slow it down. It’s time-stamped 9:58 p.m. It had been only twenty minutes after Holland returned to the house to check on Scottie. I can’t see inside the car. Moving to the security feed which is placed outside the door with a bright light, the feed is clear through the camera. The person has a purse—leading me to believe it’s a female. It’s slung around her shoulder. When she reaches into it, she grabs a key. I don’t have to see the face. Her hands are neatly manicured with a flower painted on her index finger. My heart sinks and I can barely catch my breath.

  Placing the phone down, my chin drops to my chest. The 911 dispatcher is telling Holland she’s sending several units to the house.

  Her face searches mine. “What? Did you find anything?” Her fingers touch my skin. I had no idea Holland was even near me. Tipping my face to look at hers, she asks, “Did you see anything on the cameras?”

  I nod ever so slightly.

  “Maguire, what the hell is it?” Her scream is deafening but nothing prepares me for how she’ll react to my next words.

  I close my eyes, I can’t look at Holland when I tell her this. “Yeah, darlin’, I know who took Scottie.”

  Chapter 21

  I can’t ask. I can’t speak. He stands across from me and calmly tells me he knows who has my baby—without storming out the door to rescue her. The pressure rises in my veins as I feel that one may just burst from the rage and wrath building inside of me.

  “What? Who?” I finally choke out. But he doesn’t answer, he only shows me the video of the front porch. I don’t have to see a face. By her manicured nails, I know who it is.

  “What?” I begin to ask slowly, methodical, almost calm, like the calm before the storm. But I can’t and won’t delay my fury as a candle between the two of us gets slung through the kitchen, smashing up against the nearest wall. “How the fuck?” Anything in my reach which I can grab and thrash against the wall is easy picking. I must toss five things before Maguire’s arms surround my body. I fight him off as I’m attempting to escape his grasp.

  “I’ll kill her! I’ll fucking kill her.” My arms are everywhere, scraping him, anything to escape. When he allows me to, I turn around so quickly, a rabid dog couldn’t compare to the damage I could cause in my manic frenzy.

  “You—this is what happens when I’m with you.” I’m thrashing around with fervent and uncontrolled rage and like a diseased animal, I’m foaming at the mouth.

  “Darlin’, shit, I know you’re scared. I’m so fucking worried right now, but at least with her, we know she’s taking care of Scottie.”

  Wrong. Fucking. Thing. To. Say!

  I push off of my feet, jumping onto him, hitting him with all I have with an ear-piercing scream wailing through the house. “I’ll kill anyone who separates me from my child.” I’m in a zone, a rage overtakes me when different hands have me enclosed and I look back and see the gray eyes of Ned. I turn and throw myself at him, but this time is different. I’m crying in his arms. “She took my baby. She fucking took my baby.”

  His hand works in circular motions on my back, soothing me. “Who took Scottie, Holls?”

  I can’t say her name and I don’t need to because Maguire begins as he clears his throat. “It was Christine, Ned, Chris has Scottie.”

  I’m left to watch my friend comfort my girl as Holland screams for Scotland.

  How could I not have seen this coming? Yet, I have so many questions. Could I have predicted this? Should I have. I’m left to a memory that still haunts me, as it will now. Recalling this particular remembrance makes me wonder what I was truly thinking.

  “Daddy, I’m hungry,” Scott whines from the passenger seat. I don’t blame the poor kid. He’s been at school since Christine forgot to pick him up. At the age of five, it scared him being the last child at school. Hell, by the time they reached me, only a couple teachers were still in the building and the school secretary was not pleased. More so, she told me this wasn’t the first time Christine had forgotten to pick up Scott.

  “I know, just going to check on Mommy first.” She suffers from horrible migraines. Before I take Scott out for supper, I’ve got to make sure my wife is okay.

  Following me inside our simple little bungalow we have in the middle of downtown, I’m clear with my son, “Stay here.” If she’s asleep, I don’t want him to wake her up.

  But farther down the hallway, I’m surprised to hear the television on. In my mind I think she can come out for supper with us. Opening the door, it’s not the television, but her and some strange man I’ve never seen going doggy-style in our bed, the one we share together.

  The man has the decency to leave through the window leading to the backyard but before I can confront Christine, she’s dressed with Scott in her arms, pulling out of the drive like a bat out of hell, with my boy.

  It was two weeks before I saw my son again. And when I tried to use it for grounds in a custody dispute, she claimed she feared for the life of her and her son. After all the shit she’s pulled, how did I not see this coming?

  Chapter 22r />
  When it rings, it continues to be delivered to voice mail. “Can you track her phone?” I ask with easily twenty various law enforcement men and women taking residence in my house.

  One of my carpenter’s sons works for the state’s version of the FBI. With his close proximity to us, he’s been called in. “Yeah, I have one of my men on it,” Dave answers as his phone rings. Looking at the caller ID, he whines. “M, I’ve got to grab this. I’ll be right back.”

  Holland has retreated back to my room and with the door open, I have a straight line of sight to her as she lays her head on Teagan’s lap. I think she has cried herself to sleep. When Teagan catches me looking, I mouth, “You okay?” Holland is blaming me but more so, she’s blaming herself, pushing away from me every chance I have to comfort her.

  “Yeah, I got this,” Teagan mouths back. The second I called Ned and alerted him to Scottie’s abduction, he called Teagan on the way over, her arriving before the police.

  When I turn around, Dave is back—a soured look on his face. “The FBI feels since this is a family dispute, and the grandma has the baby, they’re not going to get involved, not yet anyway.”

  I curse, and kick a chair as it’s flung through the kitchen. Everyone stops in mid-movement, their eyes fixed on me.

  When the police had arrived here, they scoured through the tapes and confirmed viewing more video, Christine did leave with Scotland in her arms. She had taken the car seat out of Holland’s vehicle. It’s one of the first things I checked once Ned arrived.

  “Listen, M. We still have resources. My tech has a lock on her phone. We’re putting together our team in Sacramento and they’re almost ready.”

  “Sacramento? They’re already so far away from us.”