Chapter Five
Brett
I probably shouldn’t admit it, but I was having fun. I had seen more of that old fire in Hannah’s eyes today than I had in far too long. I couldn’t deny that the blowjob she’d given me had been incredible, but what really had me grinning was remembering how cute she’d been when she’d given me that sassy salute. Though she’d whined and moaned, she’d been a trouper on our run. Did I expect her to be so compliant every day? Hell, no. I knew her too well. This was the ‘honeymoon stage’ where she’d do her best not to get in trouble. I’d seen her roll her eyes more than once and had pretended ignorance, but if that became a habit, I’d nip it in the bud—or more precisely, I’d nip her butt.
“Feel better?” I asked as Hannah walked into the kitchen, moving to wrap my arms around her.
“Well, I don’t stink anymore,” she said.
Burying my nose in the blonde tresses that cascaded down her back, I inhaled deeply. “No, you definitely don’t. You smell like lemons.” Kissing the top of her head, I pulled back. “Ready for breakfast?”
“I normally don’t eat breakfast, but I’d love more coffee.”
I poured her a fresh cup, and while she took a seat at the table, I spooned oatmeal into a bowl. Dropping the last of the bread into the toaster, I took her bowl to her. When she turned up her nose, I grinned. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so don’t knock it until you try it. You can doctor it up if you want.” I pushed the small bowls of sliced strawberries, whole blueberries, slivered almonds, and brown sugar closer to her. Fixing my own bowl and bringing the toast to the table, I sat down and was pleased to see that she was eating.
“What would you like to do today?” I asked, taking my own bite.
“Take a nap.”
Slathering my toast with jam, I said, “Babe, you just got up. Let’s wait until mid-afternoon at least.”
She took another bite of her oatmeal and then answered. “We’ve talked about starting a garden. Maybe we can work on that?”
Nodding, I leaned back in my chair, finishing my own coffee. “That’s a plan. Finish up and we’ll run to the home improvement center. I don’t think we can do it all in one weekend, but we can make a good start.”
* * *
For someone who’d wanted to crawl back into bed, Hannah’s mind was still going a hundred miles a minute. On the way to Home Depot, she’d decided that a full-blown garden might not be the best idea, reminding me that I could be given new orders at any time.
“It would be a waste of time and energy tilling and fencing and planting only to find that we won’t be around to harvest.”
I couldn’t disagree as this was the third base I’d been stationed at and knew there were more moves in my future. “So, what’s Plan B?”
“A container garden,” she said instantly. “We can get all sorts of pretty pots and plant in them instead. Oh, and I’ve always wanted to try a hanging garden. Can we do that?”
Some pots, a few bags of dirt, a variety of seed packets sounded far easier than digging up half our backyard. “Sure, and speaking of hanging, how about a porch swing? That way we can sit outside with our coffee every morning and watch all the squirrels, rabbits, and birds steal our bounty.”
She swatted my arm, but giggled, and I knew I’d give her whatever she wanted. I had missed that sound as well as the excitement that practically had her bouncing up and down the aisle as she made her choices of containers. Leaving her to it, I found a swing and had an associate help me strap the box to the top of the car. Rejoining Hannah, I found she’d filled one flatbed cart full of pots and bags of soil. I pushed it out of the store, Hannah following with another cart with plants of various sizes. My wife had to peer through green foliage to see where she was going.
“I thought we were going with seeds,” I said, pushing buttons to lower the seats in our Suburban to give me a flat surface to put all our purchases.
“Oh, I got some of those too, but this way we have instant gratification. I can practically taste the tomatoes we’ll have soon,” she said, handing me two red wire cages that would support the plants as they grew. “The next time I eat oatmeal, it will be with strawberries picked from our own hanging garden. Just think of the money we’ll save. We won’t have to go to the commissary to get fresh vegetables.”
Loading more plants into the car, I grinned. “And when I shoot those rabbits who raid the cabbage patch, you can throw them into the pot as well.”
“Ewww, I’m not going to eat some poor little bunny!”
I didn’t care about the military frowning on PDAs—public displays of affection—she was just too cute not to grab and kiss. Granted, I’d meant for it to be just a quick smack, but the moment she melted against me, my cock rose to stand at attention. Releasing her, I saw that she was well aware of the affect she’d had on me.
“I hope you paid for that big zucchini in your pocket, Major. I would so hate to have to bail my husband out of the brig.”
Grinning, I shook my head. “Maybe an up close and personal inspection of that zucchini will remind you that you are an army wife, not a navy swabbie, recruit. Brigs are on ships.”
“Your command is my wish, sir,” she said, purposely skewing the phrase. “After all, you are the officer in charge.”
Damn straight I was. We finished loading and every time our fingers brushed as she passed me something, I swear there were sparks popping between us. Once in the car, the smell of plants and soil and manure seemed to bring out my baser nature. She’d thought I was prepping her for a bit of kinky sex last night, which I hadn’t been. But as an officer, I was used to making multiple contingency plans. I’d tossed that blanket over her last night to preserve her modesty. Today I planned on tossing her down on it and having her squirming like a little earthworm.
“Why are we stopping here?” she asked as I pulled into another parking lot. “I thought you were tired of fast food.”
“We’re going to have a picnic,” I informed her, pulling up to the speaker box. “What would you like?”
“I don’t know, there’s too many choices. What are you going to eat?”
“You.” I watched her eyes widen and her nipples jump to attention beneath her t-shirt. Reaching over, I took a stiff bud between my thumb and finger and gave it a little pinch. “Now that is my kind of salute.”
“Brett!” she said, but in a tone that had no rancor, only a bit of shock. The fact that she arched her back a bit, offering more of her breast told the true story.
Forget choices. I turned to the speaker and ordered for the both of us. Passing her the bags and putting the bottles of water in the cup holders, I pulled out and after a few miles, turned into a strip center.
“Brett Griffith, I am not going to get a tattoo!”
Grinning, I turned to her. “I don’t know; maybe seeing ‘Daddy’s Girl’ inked across a certain part of your anatomy might remind you to be good.”
“Since I can’t see my ass, I find that highly doubtful,” she shot back. “Seriously, you don’t expect me to get a tattoo?”
“No. We’re going to get dessert.”
She looked at me like I was crazy. “If you wanted dessert, you could have gotten some cookies at the deli.”
“I’m not looking for cookies,” I said, cupping her chin and turning her head to the right. “I’m fancying something longer lasting and far less fattening than cookies.”
Her gasp told me she’d seen the Erotic Zone sign above the shop sandwiched between the tattoo parlor and a convenience store.
“There is no way in hel… on God’s green earth that I’m going in there! What if someone recognizes us?”
“Then they’ll know we enjoy a very healthy sex life.”
“No, they’ll know that you are kinky!”
She actually slid down in her seat as if expecting to be discovered.
Chuckling, I shrugged. “Hannah, know this, if you don’t go in with me, I’ll choose whatever dessert I want, and you will have to live with it.”
“O-okay.”
Decision made, I opened the door, hearing the lock snap almost before I’d completely stepped out of the car. Well, I would have locked the car anyway, so I didn’t fault her the security measure. This was a part of town that could be found outside most military bases in the country. Soldiers were known for the proclivities to cover themselves with tattoos and let off a little steam—both in the bars and in any assortment of sexual outlets. They put their lives on the line, and I’d dare anyone to demand they be angels.
The store wasn’t empty but, unlike Hannah’s fear, I didn’t see anyone I knew by name. Granted, if I’d been in uniform, I would not have entered. I might like kink, but I did respect the uniform. While my haircut most likely proclaimed me a soldier, my jeans and t-shirt gave me anonymity.
I knew exactly what I was looking for, so it didn’t take long to make my purchases. I paid cash, not bothering to ask for the military discount the sign on the counter offered. I did ask if I could step into their employee bathroom which I knew would most likely be a lot cleaner than a public one. I unpackaged and thoroughly washed every item I’d bought, not trusting they’d been sanitized enough when packaged. With bag in hand, I returned to the car to find Hannah had laid her seat back as far as she could so that she wasn’t visible with a casual glance through the window.
Sliding behind the wheel, I saw her eying the bag.
“Um, that looks like an awful lot of dessert.”
“I’m a man with a very healthy appetite. Put your seatbelt on, babe.”
She raised her seat and clicked her belt into place. “So, what did you get?”
“I believe I’ll keep that a surprise,” I said, knowing a little bit of anticipation could go a long way.
Once we were back on the road, she seemed to relax, though she kept shooting glances at the bag I’d set down next to a glazed purple and yellow pot behind me. Not wanting her to worry herself out of the playful mood we’d shared earlier that had led to this entire plan, I reached over and took her hand.
“Relax, baby. I promise you’re going to enjoy dessert.” When she remained looking skeptical, I added, “This isn’t punishment, Hannah. This is for pleasure.”
“Aren’t we supposed to have a safeword? I read that in those books.”
I knew she meant the erotic books and not the ones on domestic discipline, but wasn’t going to shrug aside her concern. “Do you feel you need one?” I asked.
“Maybe. You have more experience than I do and… well, I might not enjoy whatever it is you bought.”
I had no doubt that she’d balk a bit, but knew that if she’d allow herself to get over her somewhat puritanical ideas, she’d enjoy it. While I wasn’t going to allow her to use a safeword to get out of a punishment, I was proud of her for asking for what she needed.
“Pick a word,” I said, flipping on the turn signal.
“Stop?”
I’d yanked my foot off the gas pedal and was about to slam on the brakes when I realized she didn’t mean the car. “No, honey. Not a word that is commonly used. What if you are saying ‘Stop, no, don’t, stop’ when what you really mean, is ‘Oh, Brett, that feels so fantastic, please don’t ever stop’?”
Her eyes rolled again but she also flushed, the color staining her face a pretty pink. “Pretty sure of yourself aren’t you, sir?”
“When it comes to making my wife swoon, yup.”
“All right, I’ll give you that. I guess I hadn’t considered that a problem… I mean the word, not the swooning part.”
“It needs to be something you’d never say in a normal conversation.”
She thought for a few minutes and then giggled. “How about ‘zucchini’? Even though we do eat it, it’s not really a common word.”
It was my turn to grin as I pulled onto our street. “Fine, but just know that anytime we have that particular veggie, I’m going to be thinking of you naked, squirming in passion, and begging for permission to come.”
The pink deepened and her eyes sparkled. “I can live with that,” she said with a smile.
Pulling into our driveway, I plucked the dessert bag from her hand that she’d grabbed. “Good try, babe, but I’ll get that. You bring the food.”
“What about the plants and stuff?”
“They can wait. In fact, we’re going to have a different sort of picnic.” She turned quizzical eyes to mine, and I held up my bag. “We’re going to start with dessert.”
I helped her out of the car and started the scene. “Put the food on the counter and leave your clothes on the floor. I’ll meet you in the backyard.”
“You want me to go outside naked?”
I had no problem asking her to do so. Our house sat on a hill with nothing but woods behind us. Our neighbors on either side had houses that sat far forward of ours. Unless they were planning to scale our fence, we’d have no witnesses to our picnic. “Yes.”
“What if I say zucchini?”
“Will I respect your use of the word—most assuredly. I’m not saying I won’t be disappointed, but that would be because you aren’t giving this—us—a chance. I hope you trust me enough to know that I’d never do anything to embarrass you. Will I push your boundaries? Yes. Would I ever harm you? Absolutely not.”
She didn’t say anything, including zucchini. Instead, she walked past me into the house. To give her time to make her decision, I removed the box on top of the car, leaning it against the garage wall. I opened the tailgate to allow air to circulate among the plants. When I walked into the kitchen, I bit back my disappointment at seeing the deli bags on the counter, but nothing on the floor. Still, I’d promised to respect her choice and I would. She’d had a lot to deal with in the last two days, and perhaps I was pushing too hard.
After putting our food in the refrigerator, I went looking for her, expecting to find her in the bedroom. Movement had me looking out the patio door. Her running shoes were right outside the door. Her socks a few steps further away. Grinning like a fool, I walked through the door, bag in one hand, blanket from the car in the other. My wife, the woman who’d just seemed appalled at the thought of doing as I’d asked, was not cowering by the door, sticking as close to the house as possible. I saw her shorts and t-shirt on the lawn. And Hannah was walking, hips and hair swaying, across the lawn toward the huge willow tree at the back of our lot. When she reached it, she parted the long branches that swept the ground, turned to look over her shoulder and smiled before ducking inside. The little minx had found her own privacy curtain. I chuckled when her hand appeared between the branches and dropped first a pair of pink panties, and then the matching bra to the ground.
I might be known as a hard-ass to my soldiers, but this recruit was special. Granted she hadn’t strictly obeyed my command, but I could hear her argue that the ground was nature’s floor, and I was no fool.
It just took me a moment to become Adam to her Eve. Crossing the yard, the only articles on me that were not ones I’d been given at birth were the blanket she’d soon be lying on and the ‘dessert’ that was guaranteed to make her squirm.