A whimper claws its way from my throat as pleasure shoots from my nipples to my pussy. A deep ache to be filled comes over me.
“Please, Ace.”
“What do you need, babe?” he says.
His use of an endearment turns me to mush. “You. I need you.”
He moves away from my nipples and shifts so that his cock is at the entrance of my pussy.
Yes, yes, I think as he drives his cock into my pussy. I raise my hips, pushing him even deeper inside. I cry out in pleasure as his cock drives out all other thoughts in my head. I wrap my legs around his hips as we move in sync with our breaths
Waves of pleasure wash through me with every thrust. Nonsensical meaningless words leave my mouth. I clench my teeth as an orgasm violently tears through me. Ace clamps my mouth with his hand and I realize that the loud whimpers are coming from me.
His thrusts are faster, harder. I clench my pussy when he comes, milking every drop from his manhood.
Chapter 9
Ace
Gunfire.
Screaming.
“We’re under attack!”
I train my weapon forward, but I can barely see because of the smoke. The gunshots are getting closer. I can see the outlines of my friends. My fellow soldiers. We’re in this together. We’re brothers. I must protect them.
My heart pounds hard against my chest. I grip my weapon tighter, but my hands are damp with sweat. A sickening smell wafts up my nostrils. A smell I’m familiar with. The smell of fresh blood. Someone has been shot. I go to my knees and feel the ground around me.
Who is it? Is it Lee? He was in front of me and now I can’t see him. Oh God, please don’t let it be Lee. He has a new baby that he hasn’t even seen. Wilson was ahead too. I’m going to be sick. Wilson has a bride waiting for him back home.
“Holy shit! Get down!”
I recognize my commander’s voice. I dive down and cover my head and wait for the blast to go off. I’m more frightened than I have ever been. We’re going to die. All of us. My parents. Declan. Park. Rachel. I’ll never see them again. A scream rises above the gunshots.
Lights come on and I blink rapidly.
“Ace, what the hell are you doing?”
It takes a few seconds to come to the present and when I do, am horrified. I’m crouched against the wall, stark naked with Lexi looking down at me. My breath rattles as I look up at her. Her eyes bulge with fright.
My face heats up in shame. I need to get up. When I do, Lexi goes rigid and her eyes dart around as though searching for a quick escape.
She’s frightened of me. She thinks I’ll hurt her.
“Lexi!” I take a step toward her and she steps back. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I promise.”
She nods but her eyes tell a different story. I can’t bear to see the fear in her eyes. I need to go. Now. I grab my boxer briefs and pants and pull them up. I put on my shirt and don’t bother buttoning it up. Lexi doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t blame her. “I’m sorry,” I tell her before I leave.
She folds her arms across her chest and nods. When I get into the car, I see that it’s two in the morning. I sit in my car surrounded by darkness, my breath rugged. I grip the steering wheel hard. I’m fucked up.
I keep seeing Lexi’s frightened face. I must stay away from her. I told her that I wouldn’t hurt her but how can I guarantee such a thing when I’m not myself during an episode?
I had lied to myself that once I got back home everything would be okay. I’m forced to confront something I haven’t wanted to. Something I pushed to the back of my mind when I left Afghanistan. I’d stayed five weeks in a hospital and during that time, I’d been plagued by recurrent nightmares and flashbacks.
I’d seen a military therapist and been diagnosed with PTSD. I’d scoured for all the information I could get. I was dismayed by everything I read. It sounded like an illness for weaklings. I lay in bed with my legs wrapped in bandages from gunshot wounds and they were saying that my head was sick too.
Where was the evidence that I was sick? I refused to accept that diagnosis and after that, I kept details of my flashbacks to myself. All I needed was to get back home and I would be okay.
I can’t run away from this crippling PTSD. I never told the therapist I saw days ago about my diagnosis. For the first time in years, I really like a woman, Lexi. But I’ve lost her even before what we had had a chance to grow. PTSD is ruling my life. Next, it’s going to take my job away from me. I can’t let it. I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll figure out something. I’m a fighter, even when I can’t see the enemy with my own two eyes.