CHAPTER TEN
CHANCE
Sam wakes up with my hand between her legs. There’s a welcome, wet warmth building there that’s got nothing to do with the morning sun falling onto the bed.
I can’t believe she is finally here in my bed completely naked. I also note the way the sheet’s tented around my crotch. “Morning, beautiful.”
She wipes sleep dust from her eyes. “I thought this was a dream.”
I apply a little more pressure to her clit. It’s shocking how wet she is already. “Does it feel like a dream?”
“We did… last night, didn’t we?”
“We did,” I smile. “A number of times.”
“And you still want more?”
I snigger. “I’d make love to you twenty-four hours a day if my cock would cooperate.”
She reaches down and squeezes the offender in question. “Seems like he’s cooperating to me.”
I can almost see the thoughts running through her head.
Geez, she’s thinking, fingers struggling to wrap around my member. This was inside me last night?
It’s all a blur to me—a sweaty, steamy, blissful blur.
I languidly trace my free thumb over her lips. Given the way she bucks forward, they might be more sensitive than her clit. “It’s the weekend. Did you have any plans?”
She throws her leg over me, grinds into my hand and pants out a reply. “Not. Really.”
“How about I work your body for a change?”
She arches her back, her nipples brushing against my chest and filling. “Sounds. Good.”
I slide a finger inside her. It easily passes in to the second knuckle, curling up against the corrugated roof of her pussy in a ‘come hither’ motion, and she will come if I keep it up.
She squeezes her ass cheeks together and pushes down, my other hand coming up to cradle a breast, a tawny nipple caught between my fingers.
“Chance…”
I sit up and throw her leg off, climbing between her thighs and lowering my head. I spread her legs apart with my huge hands and breathing hot onto her dripping core. “Breakfast of champions.”
*
Sam actually needs help getting into the shower she’s so weak and wobbly. It’s like her legs have turned to licorice, my head not faring much better, and my cock? Well…
We decide to head to my place given Sam’s doesn’t have air conditioning and the temperature is already at a week-high. People walk down the street in board shorts. Dogs walk beside them with their tongues long. It’s brutal out there.
The moment we’re through the door, we’re at it again. We’re so hot for each other we don’t even make it into the bedroom, the kitchen table playing the supporting role this time.
Sam sits on the sofa in her panties after we’re done, watching me cook brunch. She pulls a blanket over herself. I know she can see my cock swinging between my legs as I shifts pans around on the stove.
“That’s a bit dangerous, isn’t it?” she calls. “I wouldn’t want your star player there to suffer third-degree burns.”
I turn, spatula in hand, everything on show. “You never cook naked? You should try it some time. It’s liberating.”
I flip the omelet over, a surprisingly practiced move given most bachelors I know struggle to put the toaster on.
“Who caught you to cook?”
“The Army.”
“I thought the Army provided your meals?”
I laugh. “What the Army calls a meal isn’t exactly Michelin Star-worthy. It’s a good thing we had three professional cooks in our squad. We’d take over the kitchen a couple of times a week, deliver food that you could actually enjoy as opposed to lay a house slab with.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You think given we were an elite force we’d have the meals to match, but that’s the military for you.”
This is the first time I’ve opened up to Sam about my time in the Army. I never thought I could, to anyone, but Sam makes it so easy, so natural.
“What did you do,” she continues, “in the Army?”
I look at her. “You really want to know?”
“Of course. We basically worked our way through the Kama Sutra and I still know hardly anything about your life.”
I switch off the heat and slide the omelet onto a chopping board. “Okay. I was a Ranger. I came in when things were wrapping up over in Afghanistan, but that doesn’t mean it was any less dangerous. Insurgents were still fucking everywhere. If you didn’t keep your head down, they’d happily take it off for you, or worse.”
I’m hoping she can take me seriously given I’m standing here in my birthday suit.
“Did you see much action?”
“Action?” I laugh, turning back to the stove even though it’s off. “Yeah… a lot. I mean, the Afghan government is one of the most corrupt in the world. We had intel, but the place was leakier than a convertible submarine. They came at us with guerrilla raids, ambushes, suicide bombers, turncoats… It was fucking crazy.”
I know she wants to ask the obvious question.
I’m not going to make her.
I turn around and cross my arms. “Did I kill people? Yes, ma’am. Plenty. Does it play on my mind? Every fucking day, but you know what? I did my country proud and I do not regret it for a single moment. The official line might be all ‘nation building’ and ‘win hearts and minds,’ but I know I was part of the real war, the dirty, dirty stuff the government would never admit to but is vital to our national security. That is why I joined. That is why I did my duty.”
I’m getting worked up. I’m hoping my tone didn’t come across overly preachy. Cool it.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” Sam continues, bringing her legs up under herself. “I’m just curious.”
I lean against the counter and grip it hard. “I know. I just get passionate about this stuff. Your regular Joe has no idea about what went down over there. I’m talking horrific, haunt-you-for-life kind of stuff. If it wasn’t for football…”
Sam stands and lets the blanket fall. She watches as my eyes take in her naked form. She comes forward and presses herself against me, placing her head against his chest so my heart beats powerfully against her cheek. “Whatever I can do, Chance, let me know. I want to be with you—heart, body, and mind.”
I hold her away. “I want to be with you too, but I’ve got baggage from the Sandpit. You haven’t seen the worst of it. I can be downright frightening sometimes.”
“I can handle it.”
“Are you sure? Why do you think I’ve pushed people away in the past?” I span a hand across the room. “Why do you think I’ve got all this stuff and yet no one to share it with? I’m messed up, Sam. I tell myself I’m okay, but what happened over there? It gets to me sometimes. I just want you to come into this forewarned.”
She runs her hand over my shrapnel scar. “I am. My eyes are open.”
I take her leg, hoisting it up my side, reaching down to pull the crotch of her panties to the side. I harden against her. “Not the only thing.”
She slaps my chest. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”
“So am I.”
The tip of my manhood kisses the sensitive center of her sex. All she needs to do is sink down upon it.
“Are you on protection?” I query.
Yeah. Way to kill the mood, Gunner, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind.
Sam nods and lets her hips fall. She takes me long and deep inside, the skin-on-skin contact incredible.
I take hold of her ass and lift her up easily. She wraps her legs around me and pulls herself tight to my chest, her clit pulsing.
“What about the omelet?” I question.
She comes off my shoulder and looks into my eyes. “Let it go cold.”
*
“Yeah, wrap your fingers around the base of it, just like that.”
Sam looks terribly awkward. I don’t think she’s done this before. “Like this?”
“You got it. Now give it a shot.”
Sam tosses the ball, but it goes end over end far from the torpedo precision we use on the field.
I’m cracking up as I retrieve it. “Your dad never taught you how to throw a football?”
She stands with her hands on her hips and looks down to her cleavage. “These are called breasts. Girls have breasts.”
“You’re saying girls can’t play football?”
“From what I’ve seen, only if they’re wearing lingerie. Regardless, I wasn’t exactly a tomboy growing up.”
I bound back over to her. “Come on. Did you play any sports growing up? You’ve got the body for it.”
“Is channel surfing a sport?”
“Very funny.”
She pouts. “My family wasn’t really big on sports, not really big on fitness in general come to think of it.”
“So how did you manage to turn out so well?”
“I’ve got an aversion to sugar.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. A sweet tooth I am not.”
“Cake?”
She shakes her head. “Best left to children’s birthday parties.”
I place the ball down. “Ice cream?”
“Just… weird.”
“This is insane. Wait. Chocolate, surely?”
Her head moves from side to side. Holy shit she’s cute when she’s a little frustrated like this. “Definitely not.”
I take her by the sides, the park surprisingly empty given the heat. She looks even cuter wearing my Dodgers cap. I’d like to see her only in my Dodgers cap, true, but this will do for now. “I bet I could find something to chocolate-dip that would meet your approval.”
Her fingers run up my chest. “Is that so? I suppose I am open to experimentation.”
“See? There you go, and trust me, I’ve got plenty to show you.”
Over the course of the next hour Sam improves. She’s a quick learner, not just out here, but in the bedroom too. Soon that shy, quiet girl who fled Vegas will be gone. It’s a shame, really, but there’s no reason she shouldn’t be living life to the fullest, and I am going to be there. It’s different this time. Everything is telling me she’s the one, the girl to finally make me something greater, more than myself.
A whole life flashes before my eyes—cute, button-nosed kids, a yacht, Sam in a wedding dress, Sam out of a wedding dress…
Whoa, whoa, boy. You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, no?
Maybe, but who fucking cares? Is it too early to know this is the woman I want to spend my life with?
Something hits me hard in the side of the head. I stumble around for a moment looking for my attacker, only to find the football bouncing away down the hill.
Sam’s got her hands over her mouth. “Sorry!” she calls.
I rub the side of my head. “Damn. You really are getting better. Keep that shit up and maybe we’ll find you a spot on field instead of that matchbox of a massage room.”
She runs over. “But I like that little room.”
“I think it’s safe to say there’s not going to be much in the way of traditional massage when we’re in that room together any more, is there?”
“But there’s no lock on the door.”
I can’t help but smile. “Even better.”
We’re suddenly saturated in water. Sam screams, covering her head, sprinklers all around us popping up—absolute insanity given the heat, but it must be an automatic system.
I pick her up around the waist and start to run for the other side of the park, both of us laughing and smiling.
When we’re finally clear of the hot zone, I lay her down on the grass and collapse beside her, very conscious of the way her soaked T-shirt leaves nothing to the imagination.
I look up at the sky, a cloud that looks a hell of a lot like a ring breaks apart.
You’re in deep, son. Way too deep.
Sam pinches her T-shirt with two hands, lifting it away from her nipples. “I’m soaked.”
“That will teach you to run around without a bra.”
She rolls over and slaps me on the chest again. “You’re out of control.”
“Hey, you’re the one who almost gave me concussion just now.”
“That was an accident.”
I roll over onto my elbow and stare down into her face studded with water droplets glimmering and gleaning in the sun. “If you were trying to knock some sense into me, there’s no need. I’m all yours.”
“You are?”
“Body and soul.”
She rolls on top of me, hands holding my head. “In that case, I guess I should take better care of my property.”