Authors: Sylvia Ryan
From his vantage point, Van Goodwin had a panoramic view of the people choking the shoreline, bathing, fishing, and filling containers with water. They were washing themselves in the polluted lake while others filled their jugs to the brim with the brown human soup. This was not going to end well.
Van also saw the woman sitting, almost completely hidden in the little island of trees and brush, farther inland. He’d been keeping an eye on her for over an hour. She sat eerily still, patient, deliberate in her caution. He scanned her with his binoculars from time to time. At first, he saw nothing special. Her body language gave him the impression she was a tomboy. She sat on the ground, knees bent up with a forearm resting on each knee. Her face was serious and held an edge of rebellion. It looked good on her. But then, everything probably looked good on her. She was a natural beauty with delicate features and serious eyes. After an hour of surveillance, her calm focus captivated him. The longer she sat motionless, the more curious he was as to what her endgame was.
As the daylight faded, the shoreline gradually emptied of people. Fishermen walked home with their poles, some grasped their catch in the opposite hand. Van noted that not very many of the fishermen were successful. There would be a lot of hungry people crowding this shore soon, and the successful fishermen would have to protect their catches with their lives.
The sun had long set by the time the shoreline was clear. In the sultry darkness, the drone of the crickets and the lapping of the lake water bathing the shore were the only sounds. With the absence of any light pollution, the stars popped against the inky black of the night. Still she sat motionless, waiting.
Van packed away his binoculars and put his night vision in place just in time to catch the woman in action. Now that she was on the move, she looked confident, advancing quickly and gracefully to the end of the pier. It took her no more than a minute to strip off her clothes and lower herself into the black of the lake. But in that time, Van’s hungry gaze grazed every contour of her slender body and lingered on the perky upturn of her breasts, before she submerged slowly into the water.
“Damn,” Van whispered to himself as he descended to the shoreline and waited under cover of darkness for her to return from the end of the pier.
He watched the green night vision image of her lifting herself out of the water. She slipped on a scrap of material that could barely be called panties, followed by her pants. Kneeling at the edge of the huge block peeking out of the water, she dunked her tank top, washing it as best she could before putting the wet piece of clothing on, and then tucked her pistol into her waistband.
Van sighed and shook his head. It was incredibly risky for her to be out here on her own, even if she carried a weapon and knew how to use it.
“It’s not safe out here alone,” he said to her as she walked by him in the dark.
She whipped around, her hand gripping the butt of her gun.
Van got the full and oh-so-beautiful view of the thin material of her tank top plastered to her skin and the hard tips of her nipples reacting to the cold.
“Whoa, whoa. Cool it. Not the enemy here,” he said, indicating his military uniform.
“You snuck up on me.” She exhaled a sigh and relaxed a little when she realized he was not a threat.
He smiled at her sweet feminine voice and studied her face with the close-up view his night vision provided. Her dainty features clashed with the aggressive warrior’s stance she possessed.
“You’re lucky it was me and not somebody else.”
“I’m on my way home now.”
“I’ll walk with you. Make sure you get there okay.”
“No really, you don’t have to.”
“I’ve been assigned to patrol this area. I would say that walking you back would be my job right now, seeing as you’re the only person around.”
“Since you put it that way,” she said, smiling at him. “How can I say no?”
“I’m Van.”
“Grace.
“Are you National Guard?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “Have there been any problems around here?”
“Nothing too serious, but the longer the power stays out, the worse it’s going to get.” He looked at her. “I have to advise you not to leave your house alone again.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that today,” she snickered. “I don’t follow directions very well.”
They walked side by side in silence for a while before she looked up, way up, at him and wrapped her fingers around his bicep, stopping their forward progress. “You’re going to have to turn back now. I can’t let you know where I’m staying.”
He didn’t want her to walk the rest of the way by herself, but she was being smart. He nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll probably be back out to clean up tomorrow or the next day. Will you still be in the area?”
“Probably. I’ll keep my eyes open for you.”
“Okay, and don’t worry, I’ll get back home safe. It’s not far,” she said over her shoulder.
“I’ll stay here for a while. Yell if you need me.”
Grace turned to face him and started walking backward. “Thanks, Van. I hope I’ll see you around.”
As she walked away from him into the darkness, Van replaced his night vision and watched her until she turned off the main road onto a side street.
Yeah. He hoped she’d see him around, too.
* * * *
It was sheer blackness in the shelter when Grace got back. Groping her way over to her bag, she took off her wet tank top and slipped on another one. Now she smelled like lake water instead of sweat. It was only a slight improvement, in her opinion. She felt her way to the single bed, took off her boots and pants, and laid her pants over the back of the nearest chair.
She expected to meet Sarge’s body on the small mattress when she climbed in, but she didn’t. Grace scooted so close to the cold wall that her rear was chilly from the touch of the cement block. If he wanted to sleep down there, it would be close company.
She exhaled a deep breath and tried to sift through her thoughts. The time she’d spent waiting for the beach to clear gave her mind free reign to pore over everything that had happened. She realized she didn’t want Sarge to pull away. She needed everything to be okay between them.
Truth was, deep down inside, Grace felt lost, separated from the only compass she’d known in her life, the only constant she’d known in her life. She was shaken and needed to hang on, cling to something that would keep her pointed in the right direction until she located her new path on her own. Usually, that needy part of herself was kept locked down and hidden. Not because she was raised to suck it up, which she was, but because she hated the way it felt. Emotional extremes made her feel totally exposed and weak. It was scary. She’d learned a long time ago that she’d rather break a limb than feel inadequate to cope with her own feelings. And right now, she was dangerously close to her breaking point. The last twenty-four hours had been too much. She was raw, vulnerable, and helpless to stop the rush of emotions she had been trying to keep at bay.
Grace heard Sarge enter the back door of the house, and her heart accelerated in response.
“Please, God,” she prayed softly, “at least make this better.”
She followed the sound of his footsteps to the secret entrance of the shelter then followed the beam of light bobbing down the stairwell, lighting a path toward the bed.
When he switched the flashlight off, the absolute blackness of the room amplified the sound of him removing clothing. She felt the side of the bed dip and heard the double
thunk
of his boots hitting the cement floor. He lay down on top of the blanket and blew out a deep breath. Their bodies pressed up against each other with the thin blanket between them. She listened for a minute to his even breathing and wondered if she would ever fall asleep with this man so close to her.
“You awake?” Sarge’s deep rumble resonated in the stark blackness of the shelter and sent a flutter down her spine that finally took up residence in her belly.
Grace reached over and laid her hand on his stomach. “Yeah.” She trailed her hand across his bare skin, feeling the cuts and curves of the muscle definition underneath.
He sucked in a breath as Grace’s fingertips roamed near the waistband of his jeans. “Grace.”
She heard the tone of warning in that one word, and she didn’t care what kind of message she was sending. At that moment, she would do just about anything to get this man lying next to her to hold her and make everything feel okay, even if it was just for a little while.
“You caught me off guard this afternoon.” She paused, carefully choosing her words. “Can we just start over? I don’t want to be constantly butting heads with you.”
“I don’t either,” he said in a voice so deep that she felt the vibration of it on the skin underneath her hand. “But there are a few issues between us already that won’t go away by just starting over.”
“Like?”
“Like the fact that my dick’s been rock hard and throbbing practically since the first time I laid eyes on you.” He placed his hand on hers. “You rubbing on me isn’t helping.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
He didn’t answer for a while, and then he lifted her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm
“No, Gracie, I don’t want you to stop,” he whispered with a tone of grumpy resignation.
“I promised your father I would take care of you, and you’re not cooperating.”
Grace’s hand stopped its slow progress down Sarge’s body. “I can take care of myself.”
“The fact that you think so has become glaringly obvious. Listen, I’m not trying to condescend to you. I just want to work with you to keep both of us safe. I don’t want to constantly be on edge because you might go off on your own without telling me. You have to promise me you won’t do that.”
Now it was her turn to stay quiet. She waited to hear his admonishments about going to the lake tonight, but got none. He hadn’t even known she was gone.
“Grace?”
“What?”
“This is nonnegotiable. We have to be a team.”
“I don’t like being told what to do,” she said coolly, pulling her hand away from its exploration of the smooth, hard flesh underneath it.
“You’re going to have to deal with it, at least once in a while. I’ve been preparing for something like this for a long time. You’re going to have to trust my judgment.”
His statement hung in the air between them.
“Dammit, Grace, this is not a game we’re playing here. In about a week, when all the food has been looted from the stores and there’s nothing left in the cupboards, people are going to start going a little crazy. In a few weeks, thousands of people will be dead. If we do everything right, and I mean everything, we have a chance to live through this. But we can’t let down our guard. We have to know what to do, and what not to do, to stay safe. And right now, you don’t know everything.”
Grace sighed. “Okay, I’ll trust you. I’ll follow your rules.” She paused. “I’ll try anyway.” Grace laid her palm on his abs again. She knew it was just inches from the head of his cock. She didn’t move it. She felt his shallow breathing and the tension in the muscles underneath her hand. “Do you think my dad wanted us together?”
“I’ve wondered the same thing. You know him better than I do. What do you think?”
“I think, maybe. I don’t know. But, I do know that I’m not ready to hunker down and play house. I’m over the fall-in-love-and-live-happily-ever-after fantasy. If something happens between us, then it does. You don’t have to worry about me getting clingy and needy. I’ll take it at face value. It’s just sex.”
“That’s a pretty jaded perspective you have on relationships.”
“Realistic. My view is realistic. I think that it’s naïve to leave your heart vulnerable to someone else and expect to come away from the experience unscathed. Real life just doesn’t work that way. It seems more like setting yourself up to be hurt.” Her voice sounded too matter-of-fact even to her own ears.
Sarge grunted. “You don’t really believe that.”
“I do,” she said softly. “But we have a lot of time to discuss our various theories about sex and love.” Grace rolled over to face the wall, clenched her teeth, and slammed her eyes shut tight. “Right now, I’m tired and feeling upset about my dad, and would really love it if you’d just hold me…please.” She added the last word so softly, she doubted he’d even heard it.
Sarge rolled onto his side and wrapped himself around the curve of Grace’s body.
“I’m going to do more than just hold you, Gracie.” He wasn’t pussyfooting around the fact that he wanted her, not his style. He snaked his hand over her and then under the blanket that separated them. His palm landed on the strip of skin between her thong and tank top. Soft, flat, firm skin. He was going to officially dip his toe in, to test the heat of the current between them. He caressed upward, his hand filling the expanse of skin beneath her breasts to the top lip of her panties, then waited for a response, a word, a tiny movement, something that would reveal her willingness to ride through the whitewater rush that was carrying him.
The quick rise and fall of her labored breathing was the only indication she’d heard him.
He pulled a short ribbon of hair away from her neck and pressed his lips there. “I don’t know whether what stands between us is just sex, or more than that, but I’m going to find out.” He spoke the words against her skin. Goose bumps formed underneath his lips and a shiver vibrated down her spine.
Grace raised her hand behind her and nudged his head into the cradle of her neck and shoulder. She groaned as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive area.
Abruptly, almost violently, he grabbed the blanket that separated them and ripped it from overtop her body. Then, he turned his complete attention to the woman stretched out next to him. He wanted to experience every nuance of her body, every curve, every taste, every erotic whimper. He moved his hand underneath her shirt. Her skin was soft beneath his work-roughened skin. Her nipples pebbled against his palm. The tank top was distracting. It had to go.
The slightest sound of Grace’s breath catching in her throat accompanied his grab for the hem of her shirt. He pulled it up, hearing the small sound of the material ripping as it cleared her head.
“Mmm. That’s so much better,” he whispered, exploring the bared skin, studying it with his hands. He pressed his erection firmly into the cleft of her ass and was rewarded when she pressed back.
It was a spontaneous reflex when he grabbed her thong and ripped it from her body in one smooth yank.
After he separated her from that silky, damp material, a tumble of urgent protests escaped her. “Oh God—What are we doing? This is…”
“Shh, Gracie.” He continued to trail his hand over the long lines of her body, memorizing the subtle curve from her hip to her waist, soaking in the texture and scent of her hot, silky skin. “It’s okay. I’ll stop whenever you want me to. Just say the word.” He curled a fist gently into her hair and tugged. “But you don’t want me to stop, do you.” He growled the words in her ear, low and guttural. They were a dare and a promise. He followed them with a bite at the tender juncture of flesh at her neck and shoulder. His tequila-soaked tongue rolled over that searing bite followed by a sudden hard pull of suction. Grace’s breath hitched. It was followed by the softest of groans.
Sarge was a connoisseur of the female body, and he knew his actions sent bolts of sensation to her pussy. He anticipated the moment he would be able to glide his fingers through the warm release of moisture he’d just triggered.
Slipping his right arm underneath her and circling it around her waist, he held her in place. He circled his other arm over the top of her and lowered his hand to explore between her legs. Wet, hot, swollen lips with short peach fuzz hair teased his hand.
“Fuck.” Grace gasped as she arched again within the circle of his arms, pressing her body forward into his hands and then back into his body. His cock was rock hard and still nestled between the cheeks of her ass.
Sarge placed the pad of his finger on her clit, and her body responded with a jerk. She moaned. It was a long, raw sound that touched his heart and inspired him to do just about anything that would push her to make that sound again. He alternately swirled and pressed her clit with the pads of his fingers. Then he shifted his hand lower and pushed a finger deep inside her. Her inner muscles grasped at the digit that was taking her temperature, assessing her readiness.
“Ahh, sweet Gracie, you are so ready for me.” He groaned as he slipped a second finger into her. He felt the slight quiver around his fingers and the sudden release of moist heat lubricating their advance and retreat. It felt like every molecule of her body responded to the heated words and the rasp of his labored breathing next to her ear.
“Tell me you want my cock inside you.”
“Yes,” she breathed. She tunneled further into him, pressing her ass harder against his erection.
A low, gravelly purr that was more reminiscent of an animal than a man rolled out of Sarge’s throat in response to the increased pressure of her body against his. The pad of his thumb polished her clit as the two fingers fucking into her curved, rubbing against a part of her that he knew could push her over the edge in moments.
“Do it. Fuck me,” she said, shifting slightly, to give him better access from behind. “Please,” she added in a needy whisper.
“Ahh, sweet Gracie, since you asked so nicely…”
He directed the smooth head of his cock toward her entrance.
Her exhaled, “Yessss,” that accompanied his slow, smooth penetration nearly caused him to lose the tenuous restraint he’d managed to exercise so far. When he was fully positioned inside her, he held back the raging desire to start pounding into her. Instead, he took the time to relish the feel of her, savor the maddeningly tight grip her body had on him.
He concentrated his attention on the pliant flesh of her breasts, pinching her pebbled nipples then barely grazing his thumb over them, enjoying, with unhurried mastery, her body’s response to him.
He moved his cock inside her with almost imperceptible nudges. “More. Please, more.”
He chuckled. “All in good time.”
Grace squirmed, deepening his cock’s penetration, trying to quicken the slow pace he’d set. She was trying to satisfy herself instead of trusting him to do it.
“No.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her and stilled her body. He was in control of any and all sex between them, always. “You’re going to have to learn patience,” he instructed her.
Her frustrated sigh filled the darkness, and Sarge smiled to himself. He returned a hand to her breast and the other to her clit. He played her body like a finely tuned instrument, stroking and fingering with expert skill, and her sweet pleading for more was a melody he’d never grow tired of. She was under his total control, and he reveled in it.
He wouldn’t last long with her tight cunt hugging him so ferociously. He began to fuck her in earnest with hard, deep thrusts and relentless attention to her clit. Her pleading stopped and her moans swelled. Sweet, long moans that were going to make him lose control.
“Come for me, Gracie. Let me hear you come.” Sarge gritted his teeth, trying to stave off his orgasm while she careened headlong into hers. And then, a peal of utter euphoria escaped from her lips. Sarge pounded into her and worked her expertly as the impact of her orgasm left her shuddering and helpless.
Grace lay panting and groaning when he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both completely over until she was facedown, and he was on his knees between her legs.
Sarge preferred his women facedown and ass up. It was the perfect pose of submission. He loved being inside a woman’s cunt and ass at the same time, and tonight he was going to find out if Grace liked it, too. He stuck his thumb into his mouth to slick it up and then found her rear entry with it.
“Oh God,” she keened when he massaged her opening and then pressed in lightly.
He was gentle and controlled as he penetrated the tight hole of her ass and worked slowly in and out. He waited for an indication that she was with him, and then he felt her push back onto his finger and release a sexy sigh.
Sarge smiled to himself. She was willing to go where he wanted to take her. During sex, she would submit to him. His other hand guided his cock into her pussy, and he pumped into both of her holes with increasing force. Sarge felt the brush of her fingers between her legs. She was stroking her clit.
“Fuck me hard. Yes. Yes.” She was wailing now.
Oh, fuck yeah, it’d been too long since he’d been brought so close to coming so quickly, and this was without what he knew was a spectacular view of the woman below him. He couldn’t hold back any longer. His balls drew up, his cock swelled, and in one last deep penetration, he shouted, “Fuck yeah, Gracie, come again. Come with me.”
Her body froze below him as his cock shot cum into her. Noises akin to sobbing filled the air as Sarge continued his rhythm until they both were done coming. As Grace quieted, he felt her body relax.
He rolled them onto their sides without leaving her body and spooned her, savoring the perfect fit of her within the tight circle of his arms.
His limbs were hot and limp, like overcooked noodles. The cool softness of the cotton sheet gave subtle relief to the heated skin on his face.
His mind drifted.
It had been the best straight-up, normal sex he’d ever had. That thought was immediately followed by another. He hadn’t kissed her yet, felt the silken texture of her lips against his and inhaled her breaths as they were face-to-face.
Next time.
They fell asleep together in that position, unmoving until he felt Grace slide out of bed the next morning. She dressed without so much as a smile or word in Sarge’s direction. She acted as if nothing had happened between them, which provoked a twinge of irritation in him. He didn’t like it. She was running away.
“Come back to bed, Gracie.”
“I’m going up to start digging the latrine early, before it gets any hotter,” she said as she headed toward her boots.
He’d never been so summarily brushed off in his life. After a long sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “You want any food?”
Her eyes locked on his, and he saw her adamant refusal to allow them to travel lower to his exposed hardness.
“Later,” she said over her shoulder as she walked up the stairs.
“Still just sex to you, Grace?” he challenged.
She disappeared through the false wall without a reply.
This was the “it’s just sex” philosophy in action. He didn’t like it. He sat alone on the edge of the bed and felt his temper flare. The harsh “don’t call me, I’ll call you” dismissal sent a clear message that she was trying hard to keep anything between them meaningless.
But, shit, wasn’t that what he’d done with practically every woman he’d ever been with? He’d given them all a polite thanks and then the brush off. He’d never really been open to any long-term commitment with his sexual partners over the years. Sarge’s conscience pricked him a little. He didn’t mean to hurt anybody’s feelings, but now being on the receiving end of the unemotional, noncommittal post-sex morning, he knew his apathy toward them had been hurtful.
“Huh,” he said to the empty room. He’d learned something today. A bit too late, in his estimation, but still, he’d learned.