Friday, July 28, 2017

Jack & Crush Chapter 1

***So that you know up front, this story has been pulled after the first chapter. It still makes a lemony-filled one shot if you want to read it as-is. If you're interested in the published version, you can find me in the Amazon store under my real name, Lara Norman.***
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of S. Meyer. The original plot is the only thing that belongs to me. All poems are credited to their original owner. No copyright infringement is intended.

I admit she had a little madness,
But I didn't care;
She was magic and I was on edge.
She wanted to fall
And I wanted to fly
And somewhere in between
We lost direction in our heads.
We collided
And I lost my heart
On impact.

~R.M. Drake


It was especially hot that day, an Indian Summer. I remember being surprised at the way it hit me in the face as I stepped off the bus that brought me from the airfield. The sky was hazy, like a portent to something more fierce. I was coming home early, surprising my fiancée, and I couldn't wait to see her; I'd been overseas for eight months this time. It was a lot of work to Skype with the time difference, but I'd emailed her every other day and sent pictures when I could.

I'd grown up with Jane Wilder, and we had a relationship that was easy, comfortable. She wasn't clingy, and that was perfect for someone who worked late hours and every few months had to run a mission in Baghdad. I was a geospatial intelligence imagery analyst in the United States Army, with the rank of Corporal. My C.O. informed me before I left that I would most likely qualify for Sergeant after the end of my leave, due to the work I'd put in while in the desert.

Running up the steps to the house, I unlocked the front door and dropped my duffel bag on the floor. The air conditioning made it feel like heaven in there, and the feeling of being home was overwhelming. I'd noticed Jane's car in the driveway, but I didn't see her as I made my way around the staircase to the kitchen at the back of the house. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and wandered back to the staircase. Trailing my hand on the hard and cool wood, I climbed the stairs, anticipating how we would reunite.

The second stair from the top squeaked when I stepped on it, and I thought I heard a noise from the general direction of the bedroom. Grinning, I moved faster down the hall, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. I reached the bedroom door and paused, listening.

I heard Jane laugh, a girlish sound. Then I distinctly heard a male voice in response.

A male voice.

In my bedroom, with my fiancée.

Nothing I did from that point on, for the rest of the day, was done with conscious thought. The turning of the doorknob, the door swinging open, my feet carrying me into the room. Everything felt surreal as I stood there at the footboard, staring at Jane and Felix.

Jane was the first to see me. She gasped, sitting up suddenly, her pale breasts bare before she covered them with the sheet. Her hand scooped her hair out of her face, then she shoved roughly at Felix's arm. He looked up, spotted me, and his brow raised. Not in surprise or even shame, but defiance. A challenge.

Felix was the size of a linebacker, and he knew that I would not take him on. I'd never been in a fist fight in my life.

My body turned away, my heart denying what my brain was processing.

I took the keys to my Mustang off the hook by the back door, grabbed my duffel, and tore out of the yard.


Of course I noticed the walking sex god come into my bar. He had on a disheveled army uniform, and hair that looked as if someone had already fucked him thoroughly that day. He came right up to my favorite stool and sat down.

"What can I get you?" I asked.

"Whiskey, neat."

Fuck, even his voice was sexy. Of course it is, I thought to myself. Some people are just genetically blessed. I grabbed the Jack Daniels.

"Whatever you want, sugar." When I handed the glass over, he threw it back like a pro and slammed the glass back down. I raised one eyebrow.

"Another?" I guessed.

He nodded vigorously, then scrubbed his hands over his face. I couldn't help but notice the gold and green tones in his eyes. He was not a talker, so I moved away to work and serve other customers.

"Ma'am?" I heard several minutes later.

"I know you're not talking to me, cause I ain't no fucking 'ma'am'," I returned.

He looked a bit stunned as I stood in front of him. Welcome to the club, dude.

"I-I'm sorry?"

"You should be," I retorted as I slapped another glass in front of him, this time leaving the bottle. I walked away, feeling his perplexed expression as it followed my ass down to the other end of the bar. "And stop staring at my ass!" I yelled behind me.

As the evening moved into the wee hours of the morning, and my soldier still sat there drinking, I knew there would be a problem at closing time. Luckily for me, my Louisville Slugger kept me company behind the bar, and the Glock in my purse got me home at night.

Though, I doubted I'd have any real trouble from him.

"Last call, sweet cheeks."

"Shit, already?" He signed the tab I'd kept running for him, standing from his stool. When he wavered, I reached across the bar and put my hand on his arm.

"What the fuck?" he said angrily. I'd felt it too.

"That wasn't me. Maybe your ass is full of static electricity." I folded my arms over my chest.

"You coming?" he asked.

I huffed at his arrogance. "Like hell."

"I mean, are you closing? I think-" he stumbled again, and there was no way in hell I was going to let him drive home.

"Where do you live? I'll call you a cab."

His face clouded over. "I don't have a home."

Uh, what? He was clearly not homeless. "No comprendo."

"I don't have a home to go back to. I need to find a place." The look on his face was devastating.

I thought about it, my fingers drumming on the bar. "Fine, let's go."

"Go where?" he asked, his eyebrows pulling together. Man, he had gorgeous eyes.

"You can crash at my place. No funny shit, either, or I'll wrap your balls around your throat and choke you with them."

"You have a dirty mouth," he pointed out, as though I didn't know this already.

"No shit. Now let me lock the doors, and we can leave through the back." He followed me, making little clicking noises each time I flipped a lock or a light switch. He was definitely drunk.

When I started to walk down the alley, he put out his hand to stop me. "Wait." He fished in his pockets until he came up with a set of keys. "You can drive, even if I can't."

"Deal." When we rounded the corner and I saw his Mustang, I creamed my panties at the thought of driving that. "Oh, what a beautiful lady you are," I purred, running my hand over the hood.

I hit the key fob, unlocking the doors, and then shivered at the way the night air had cooled so drastically from the day. My ass cheeks were going to freeze. We climbed into the car, and she roared to life under me.

"Jesus," I breathed, my hands caressing the steering wheel.

"Are you going to drive home, or make love to my car?" he said in a commanding voice.

"Both." Duh. "What do you do for the fine folks at the army?" I asked conversationally.

"I read maps. I was just at Camp Al-Ist... Uh, Ist-ig-lal," he adorably tried to enunciate. "The air base in Baghdad."

"Wow, say that three times fast," I joked.

"Mmm," was his only response.

When we got to my place I let us in, turning on the light above the stove and setting up the coffee pot. Soldier boy walked around my small living room, looking at my walls.

"I like your art," he said.

I can't say why that pleased me so immensely. "Thank you," I told him sincerely.

The smell of coffee was permeating the air when I felt him. His tall, lean body was directly behind mine, and there was a pulse of sexual energy that flowed between us. I took a deep breath in, holding for a count of five, and let it out slowly.

When I turned to face him, his hands immediately grasped my face and our mouths melded. His lips branded mine, searing the tender flesh. When I gasped, he thrust his tongue in my mouth, and I reacted. My arms went around his neck, and I buried my hands in that fuck-me hair. I admit I'd been dying to touch it, and it was just as soft as I'd imagined it would be.

When his hands went to my ass, lifting me to my countertop, I didn't protest. I braced my hands behind me, watching as his eyes darkened and traveled down my torso to my short shorts, down my thighs to my knee-high boots. He kneeled, and my heart leapt to my throat. His fingers moved down my thigh until they reached the top of the zipper to my boot. Fumbling, he managed to pull it down and slide the boot off. It thunked heavily to the linoleum, my heart echoing the sound as it raced frantically in my chest.

He repeated with the other boot, then his hands were on my feet, stroking the arches, roaming up my calves, massaging the muscles, reaching my knees. He lifted my legs, one at a time, and swirled his tongue over the crease at the back. I whimpered, my panties flooded with my arousal. When he stood, I slid off the counter and took his hand, leading him to my bedroom at the back of the house.

I stood barefoot in front of him and unbuttoned my shorts. They slipped down my legs, and I kicked them off. I reached for the hem of my tank, then whipped it off, standing in nothing but my skivvies.

"Fucking beautiful," he murmured. His fingers roamed my collarbones, which I found incredibly erotic.

He watched me, irises dark and lethal, as I slowly unbuttoned his shirt. When I had it free, I moved on to his undershirt. He helped me pull it over his head since I couldn't reach.

Kneeling, I untied his boots and pulled them off, followed by his socks. When I remained on the floor but reached for his belt, he hissed. When I unzipped him and slipped my hands in his pants, he growled. The pants came down his lean hips, and I pushed his briefs down quickly after. He stepped out of his clothes, but I could only stare at the cock that sprang free.

I swallowed the saliva that had pooled in my mouth at the sight of him. Leaning in, I glanced up at him from under my lashes. He had an earthy scent, some kind of man soap, and I inhaled before running my flattened tongue up the length of his cock. His eyes closed, his face scrunching up, and one hand went to my hair. I fondled his balls, stroking him with the other hand. He moaned, and it went straight to my lady bits.

"Maybe I can thank you for serving our country," I breathed out over his wet skin.

"Fuck," was his brilliant response. Hey, I've been known to make a man speechless before.

His thigh muscles clenched, and my mouth closed around him. My hands and mouth worked in sync for a time before he stopped me with his hands on my shoulders, pulling me up towards him. He kissed me deeply, bent around me to meet my shorter height.

His chest was smooth, taut muscles straining under satin skin. My hands went to his hips, and he moved his mouth to kiss down my neck. I leaned my head away to give him better access, moaning shamelessly at the sensation. He could make miracles with that tongue.

He broke away, looking into my eyes, and his were filled with lust. His hands found my bare ass, and he looked at me in surprise. I turned, giving him a show of my tiny thong and the piercing just above it.

"Fuck, woman, you're sexy," he growled.

Uh, yeah, pussy-tingling velvet voice. Gah. I shook my ass for effect, and then I felt him on me, hands caressing my cheeks and the tattoo work above them. Opening the drawer to my bedside table, I handed back a condom. I heard the tell-tale rip before he pushed me onto the bed, and I gladly went face first into my quilt.

There was nothing subtle about the way he went about fucking me. My thong was moved aside, and his thickness pushed into me with no more preamble. He used the leverage afforded by standing to push me into the mattress. He was hitting me so deep, it wasn't long before I felt the gathering of sensations in my pussy. Reaching down, I found the place we were joined and touched him as he moved in and out, reveling in the groan he let loose.

"God, you're driving me fucking insane," and that was all he wrote. The cock, the voice, the pounding, did me in.

Seeing stars, I cried out into the mattress as my body shuddered around him. When I slumped bonelessly, he rolled me over and threw my legs over his shoulders. If I'd thought it was hard and fast before, I was in for a surprise.

"Your pussy feels so good," he ground out.

A sexy, sexy surprise. His hands went for my bra, pulling it down until it exposed my nipples to the air. I reached for them myself, tugging on my piercings. It didn't take long for the both of us to come.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he shouted, sprawling warm and heavy over my body.

As I came down from my multiple orgasms, I realized I didn't even know his name. Oh, well, wouldn't be the first time.

No comments:

Post a Comment