Page 32 of Just Like This
“Are you ready for me?” From the way she moved on the bed and the slickness of her core, I knew she was, but I wanted her to say it. Or at least, acknowledge it. She nodded slowly before running a hand through her hair.
I spread her legs just a little more and then aligned the head of my cock against her entrance. She was already so close that just the faintest contact had her trembling. I remained still while she relaxed.
“Cami, look at me,” I demanded. Her hooded gaze landed on me, and once our eyes connected, I surged forward, driving my cock deep inside her. I stilled once I was fully sheathed to let her adjust to my size. Her chest was already covered with a thin layer of sweat, and I placed light kisses along the swells of her breast before drawing one of her nipples into my mouth. She writhed beneath me, and her responsiveness drove me crazy. Everything I did sent her soaring, and I loved it.
One of Cami’s legs caressed my side, and I held it firmly in place while I started to move in and out slowly. Her hands cupped my cheeks, and her moans encouraged me to keep going, pounding deeper and deeper until I felt her tense under me.
“Garrett,” she hissed.
I bent forward and claimed her lips with a searing kiss. I snaked a hand between our sweat slickened bodies and rubbed her clit with light strokes. She reached down and covered my hand with hers, trying to stop me.
“Oh no, sweetheart,” I warned her. “I want you to combust.”
Our fingers shifted until I was directing hers, commanding them to stroke the sensitive coil of nerves. I encouraged her with whispered words against her skin until she was trembling with need. My thrusts became quicker and shallower until she abandoned her own pleasure to grip the bedsheets firmly in both fists. I buried myself deep inside her, over and over, punishing her with each drive of my cock. Her pussy pulsed around me, shoving me into total freefall. I remained firmly rooted inside her, not letting one drop go to waste.
This was what I wanted to remember for the next twelve months. The way she felt under me, the saltiness of her skin, the blush of her skin, and the way her wild curls fanned out around her head like a halo.
“Garrett,” she said softly.
I’d barely heard her; I was so lost in thought, hoping to enjoy more of these moments before my leave was over.
“Garrett,” she said more firmly.
“What? Am I crushing you?” The heady fog of lust slowly dissolved, and I felt the wetness of my orgasm start to seep out between our still-joined bodies. “Oh! Shit!”
I slid out of her and realized the same thing she must have; we hadn’t used protection.
Cami must have sensed my imminent panic because she placed one hand on my chest and the other on my cheek, directing my gaze to hers. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m on birth control.”
“I’m sorry. I should have known better,” I told her. I glanced around the room and took note of the two doors on the other side. One must be a bathroom. “Do you want to get cleaned up?”
Cami nodded and wiggled off the bed. I followed her over to the first door, which led to a modest-size master bathroom. I turned the water on in the shower and stepped inside, letting the ice cold stream hit me. Cami waited against the vanity before she stuck her hand inside to test the water. I laughed and grabbed her hand to pull her inside.
“You like cold showers?” she asked, eyeing me skeptically.
“Nope. But I’m used to them,” I replied with a wink.
I bent forward and kissed her hard, nipping her bottom lip with my teeth. We were nose to nose, our eyes locked, and I found myself grinning like an idiot. I reached up and tugged on one of her locks playfully. When I released it, it sprang back into its loose coil. A shy smile spread across her lips as I played with her hair and placed light, playful kisses on her cheeks and nose.
I twirled my finger, motioning for her to turn. Grabbing the bottle of body wash from the ledge, I squirted some of it into my palm and slathered it across her back. Slowly, I massaged it into her skin, careful not to apply too much pressure. Touching her as much as possible gave me the opportunity to memorize every inch of her body. I worked my way down to her ass, softly kneading the flesh before I turned her to face me again.
Cami’s eyes flicked back to the tattoos on my chest and then down to the much larger one that covered my stomach. It was a depiction of Lady Liberty in a circle of laurel leaves with American flags on either side. It was done in a traditional style, and the colors were more vibrant than most of my other tattoos. She lifted my arm and brushed her fingers along the script emblazoned along my ribs. She flicked her eyes up, questions swirling in them.
“It’s the Warrior Ethos.” I mentally recited the words I knew she read:I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat. I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade. I turned my head away, embarrassment and guilt creeping up. I was about to embark on my last deployment. I was quitting, a direct contradiction to the words etched onto my skin.
Her eyes traveled up the length of my arm to the eagle done in the traditional style on the inside my bicep. It clutched a banner in its talons that read U.S. ARMY and was my very first tattoo. She turned me to inspect the rest of my body, and when I faced her again, she looked confused.
“Why aren’t there any on your arms,” she asked. “With the exception of that one.” Cami pointed at the eagle and then looked at me expectantly.
“My dad hates tattoos. He’s very conservative, and these,” I said, running my hand across my stomach and chest, “are private tributes. I don’t need him to see them and criticize me. It would ruin what they symbolize.”
She nodded like she understood, and I saw sadness start to creep over her. Her hand rested on my heart, over the words “They died for me, so I live for them.”
“What’s it going to be like when you come back?” she asked quietly.
I shrugged. “It depends. If it’s pretty quiet, then it’ll be easier for me to adjust back to civilian life.” The thought of what returning to civilian life after enduring combat was one that I did not want to entertain.
While the steam billowed around us, I told her what a life with me was going to be like. My quirks, my habits. Up at dawn. Sometimes, I was more comfortable sleeping on the floor. The doors always locked. A constant stream of nightmares that one day might vanish long enough to allow me more than a few hours of sleep.
“And lots of sex,” I said, joking. When she looked up at me, her eyes as wide as saucers, I burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, Cami. I’m not some kind of sex fiend.”
She lifted her shoulder and looked away. “Well, maybe I am.”
