Page 77 of Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC 7)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Early Spring 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

Immediately following high school, I joined the military. Soon thereafter, I met Suzanne, and quickly got married. My deployments overseas to the war began as soon as my military training was complete, and they continued for over ten years. In short, my only exposure to the real world as an adult without the atrocities of combat, battle, and war, had been since my return from The Middle East.

The time I spent in Wichita following the war was unhealthy for me, and allowed me little, if any, recovery from post-war emotional and mental complications. My decision to move to Texas proved to be an excellent one, the elimination of stress alone allowed me to proceed through life with wide-open eyes. My new home allowed me, for the first time, to begin my journey not only to recovery, but to becoming a civilian responsible for his own actions.

Although I had been in combat for 12 years commanding troops, and home from the war for almost three years, I was experiencing the situations and making the same decisions that a high school senior would be forced to make upon graduating high school. My time in the Marine Corps did little to prepare me for living civilian life, and everything from housing, meals, and even medical provisions were provided for us.

I was cautiously proceeding through life no differently than if I was walking through a minefield.

And, since I had been in Texas, I had stepped in all the right places.

“I am so relaxed, it’s crazy,” she said.

With the tip of my index finger I traced along her skin lightly, from her shoulder to her wrist. Her skin was tanned from exposure to the Texas sun, yet silky smooth and without flaws. As she remained motionless, I slipped my finger under her hand and lifted it from the cushion.

I softly gripped the tips of her fingers and lifted her hand toward my face. Her eyes followed the movement of her hand, and as my lips pressed against the surface or her skin, she shifted her eyes to meet mine.

“Your skin,” I said as I gazed along the length of her arm. “It’s so soft.”

“So are your lips,” she responded. “I love it when you kiss me. It gives me goosebumps.”

“Scoot in here and lay down with me,” she said as she patted her hand against the cushion.

Comfortably positioned on the couch, seated beside her hips, I stared down at her and shook my head. “Not yet. I like it here.”

She nodded her head and closed her eyes. As she lay motionless, I admired depth of her true beauty. To me, in many more ways than her looks alone, she defined perfection.

Each time I looked at Katie at for any length of time, it raised wonder as to why she would choose to find interest in me. I felt undeserving of her attention, unworthy of her love, and often uncertain that her love for me could last a lifetime.

“On a scale of one to ten,” I said. “How happy are you right now? Not right now, but in general. With me?”

“Ten,” she responded without opening her eyes.

I feel the same way.

I lifted her hand to my lips again, paused, and shifted my eyes to her waist. Her shirt had lifted, exposing a few inches of her stomach. After an extensive period of time, I reached for the bottom of her shirt with the intention of pulling it down to meet the waist of her shorts. With my free hand half-way to her shirt, I hesitated and shifted my eyes to her face.

Her eyes were still closed.

As I lowered my hand into my lap my eyes quickly fell to her waist. The slight guilt I felt for admiring such a remote and sensual portion of her body slowly faded away, leaving me feeling rather curious.

I gazed blankly at the four-inch section of exposed skin for some time, wanting time to jump forward to a day when we were married – a time in which I would naturally feel that my exploration of her would be without limits, free from reservation, and filled with nothing but pleasant memories.

“Touch me,” she said softly.

The guilt which had faded away quickly came rushing back. Almost as if I was a child again, caught for doing something I had been warned not to, I shifted my eyes to meet hers, only to find her smiling softly with her eyes opened ever-so-slightly.

“I thought you were going to. It’s okay, Alec. Touch me,” she said.

“I…”

As I began to explain, I stopped, realizing that my desire to feed my curiosity was being fed fuel by her approval to proceed. I smiled, shifted my focus to her waist, and convinced myself touching her could be harmless as long as my intentions were pure.

With the backs of my knuckles I brushed her shirt upward slightly, exposing yet more of her silky smooth skin. As I admired the contour of her stomach and the slight depression into her naval, I flattened out my hand and raked the tips of my fingers ever-so-lightly around the surface of her skin.

Softly, she began to moan. Her state of mind was unmistakable. The sound escaping her lips was derived from pleasure, not pain. I continued, hoping to feed her desires without causing her any discomfort whatsoever.