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I push a hand through the wet strands of my hair, slicking them away from my face as I think about how to carefully move forward a bit more with Luna. These small steps we’ve been taking have felt just right, but the last couple of days I’ve been a little restless, wanting more. I lean my head against my fist, pondering if it’s a sign that I’m ready to be more affectionate; that I wouldn’t be taking two steps back afterward. Earlier, in the kitchen, I actually gave her side a quick tickle as I walked by her, making her jump and let out a shrieking laugh that gave me some kind of endorphin hit that I didn’t know I was missing, and now I’m craving more.
Fuck it, I decide, sitting forward and looking around for a towel. I want to be close to her, and I need to do something. Only problem is besides the bathmat, there’s not a scrap of terry cloth to be seen in here.
“Lu?” I call out loudly so she can hear me from wherever she is in the house.
“Yeah?” I faintly hear her voice coming from the laundry room.
“Can you bring me a towel?” I beckon, and now I realize how she feels when I take the last towel and she’s had to call to me to bring her one several times in the last couple of weeks. Okay, one time I did it on purpose, just to see her naked, and I can neither confirm nor deny if I rubbed one out later that night.
The white, wooden door swings open, and in walks Luna with the laundry basket full of purple towels on her hip. She gives me a smart look, like, gee what’s it like to get stranded in the bathroom with no towel, but it’s the way her hair is up in a messy ponytail with strands hanging down around her neck that’s waking up my pheromones. And when she turns to hang a couple of towels up, I notice that she’s got nothing on but a long with tank top that can only make me wonder if she’s wearing panties underneath it. The racerback shows off her defined and delicate shoulder blades.
She’s to die for right now, and I feel myself rapidly growing below the water’s surface. But it’s more than just that. My need to touch her just went through the fucking roof. I want to hold her close and breathe her in for hours.
I watch from my front row seat in the tub as her lithe body moves and bends as she folds towels and goes up on her toes to stash some in the cupboard.
“Here,” she smirks, tossing the last one over the back of the chair by the tub we moved in here to help me get in and out.
She tucks one of those loose strands behind her ear as she moves past me and opens the door, but before she can exit, I snap out of my stupor.
“Hey,” I stop her, watching her stop at the door and turning to look at me with her eyebrows raised, waiting to hear what’s next. “Wanna join me?” I ask after a few seconds of looking her up and down.
She stares back at me for a moment, looking as if she’s struggling with something. She goes rigid but twitches and it only takes another second before her almond eyes crinkle at the corners and her mouth wins the fight she was putting up against a smile. A small laugh bursts out between pursed lips as her upper body drops forward, her hands finding her knees.
I feel myself frown at her response as she tries to straighten up, full-on laughing now.
“Oh - my - gaw-aw-awd!” she barely gets out as she wipes at one of her eyes.
I want to get mad and indignant, but even I can admit that came out lame. And besides, that laughter? I’m getting a huge dose of the aforementioned drug I got earlier, and it’s making it impossible. It feels too fucking good.
“Shut up,” I mumble out anyway, dropping my head back against the porcelain. Can’t even ask my wife to get in the tub with me. I had no idea I was that off my game.
“Come on,” she takes a deep breath trying to restore the oxygen in her lungs. “What are you, in middle school?” she teases.
“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, goon,” I volley back, shaking my head. I give her a minute to get ahold of herself while secretly basking in her smile, but as soon as it looks like she’s composing herself, I jump at another chance. “Lu… come on,” I look up at her, trying to gauge what she’s thinking.
“You’re serious?” she asks, her eyes searching as she still catches her breath.
“Yes,” I reach out for her hand and squeeze it to demonstrate. “Please get in here with me.”
We’re both still a moment, looking at each other, like we have several times since I came home. Like we’re trying to see each other; know each other again. And then Luna slips her hand from mine and reaches for the bottom hem of the dress-like tank top. Pulling it up, she gives me a slow reveal of lacey boy shorts in a shade of pale lilac, followed by the gorgeous, smooth plane of her stomach. Then she pulls it over her head, revealing the absence of a bra.
After she’s bent to pull down her panties, I brace both hands on the edges of the tub and pull myself up to make room for her, but before I can slide backwards, she surprises me by getting in behind me.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I ask, trying to look at her over my shoulder. “I’m pretty sure this is not how couples are supposed to sit in the tub together,” I chuckle out.
“Deal with it, soldier,” she chides, her voice sounding a relaxed kind of sultry as she brings her knees around either side of me. “Just give me a minute,” she sighs out and presses her bare chest against my back, and dammit… I thought I knew how badly my skin was craving the feel of hers against it, but it turns out, I had no idea. Luna hooks her arms undermine, wrapping them around my chest and leans her head against me, her cheek resting on the back of my shoulder.
I close my eyes as she lets out a sigh. I melt into this moment, not just because it feels good to me, but because of the realization that it feels good to her too.
Placing my hand over hers on my chest, I let go and give into the bliss of this long-awaited connection. There’s a raw but pure quality to it, and it heightens the tenderness.
My thumb finds her wedding ring and nudges it absently, just like I did a lot when we first got married.
Luna’s holding me… she’s infusing me with her peaceful comfort, her quiet support, her steadfast love… Just like she did on countless occasions before I deployed, and I’m pretty sure she’s the blanket I’ve felt that stifles my nightmares. She’s been holding me together this whole time. She’s been holding us together. She’s the hero in our love story.
But taking care of her gives me life. From the ropes course when we were little, to that night on the phone, and I definitely noticed how good it felt that night I found her in the shower.
I just want to give back; to balance us out. Not because I need to feel more adequate, but because it seriously uplifts me, making me feel like the kind of person I want to be.
