9. Pledge Allegiance
pledge allegiance
Strider
I’ve always gotten up and handled the condom. I’ve always had a reason to slide out of bed and have space.
I don’t want space. I want the woman who clings to my sweat-slicked chest, panting while I’m softening inside her. Gliding slowly, I enjoy the feel of her around me, even if it’s not the same.
I stroke her back, from the nape of her neck to just above her plump ass with a wide palm in a slow deliberate path and return, continuing my track as her breathing slows and she practically hums.
“Does this mean you’ll have breakfast with me?”
She stiffens and cranes her neck. “We just had dinner.”
“Right, but that wasn’t our date. That was me bumping into you when you were at your thing.”
Her eyes squint, and she touches the arm of my glasses. “You’re lucky you’re hot in these slutty little glasses.”
I choke, bouncing her every place we’re connected. “Slutty little glasses? I feel dirty.”
“You’re good at dirty.”
“And how am I lucky? You know what? Don’t answer that. I can feel how lucky I am from my thighs to chest.”
She does that muscle clench again and drops her head to my chest. “I wish this weren’t bad for me. I’d stay just like this until I inevitably get too hot in the middle of the night and move as far away as it takes to find a cold spot.”
That’s a lot of info.
“Stay a minute longer,” I whisper, running my palm along that same path, soothing me as I soothe her.
She nods against my chest and uses her fingers to draw a pattern along my forearm. Add that to the list of things I didn’t know I couldn’t live without.
“Tell me something about you.”
“What do you want to know?” Her chest vibrates against mine as her words hit the quiet room.
“Anything real.”
“I was a medic in the Army. The Ranger thing sort of just happened.” Her voice drops, and her fingers continue their drawing.
“It wasn’t like it was my sole desire or something I had to prove.
I was good at it. I could do it. I’ve never met a challenge I couldn’t outlast. And that’s what it takes…
not quitting when they want to break you. ”
“That’s a massive challenge, and you just went with it?”
She shrugs. “It was the next thing. It made sense.”
“That’s like saying you trained for a marathon because you were bored.” I can’t fathom what she’s saying.
“My family thinks the knee thing devastated me.” She pauses and her voice drops until I have to strain to hear. “I was fine being a soldier, but I was okay without it, too. I don’t want to be aimless. I’m more worried about that, actually, than the knee. Don’t think less of me.”
“Less of you?” My hand stops its trek and presses firmly into her back. “How could I think less of you? You’re accomplished and obviously tenacious. But being willing to pivot when things aren’t right is…” What is it? “Admirable. It means you’re resilient, and that’s a big deal.”
She pushes up to look down on me, her hair mussed from sex and wild around her face that’s open and raw. “You really think so?”
I nod. “I know so. That’s a whole different kind of bravery… Looking life in the eye and course-correcting. Few people have the courage to walk away from something good because the idea of great haunts them.”
Am I speaking to her or to myself?
She nods. “It wasn’t bad. It was hard as hell—mentally, physically, and emotionally. Same with washing out. Nothing is easy.”
“Nothing worth it is easy,” I correct softly. “Now, baby, I’m oozing out of you all over both of us. I do not want to move, but you deserve to be cleaned up and not have a wet spot in your bed.
“How are you real?” She topples over me curling into a ball.
I slip off the bed, tossing the covers over her body, and find her bathroom, including a washcloth… and her vibrator.
I won’t get jealous over silicone. I won’t get jealous over silicone. I won’t—nope. I note its location. I plan to take it with me when I leave her apartment. For as long as I’m here, she can use the toy attached to me.
I return to her with a warm, wet rag and clean me off of her, hating it, but loving the redness left behind by our passion. I stare a bit too long, or I must, because she slides a hand over her bare cunt and flips me the middle finger.
Mirren
The look on his face is priceless. He’s a ten-year-old boy busted looking at a Playboy or something. Red creeps up his cheeks, and he slams his eyes shut.
“Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I can’t see you.”
His eyes spring open. “Show some restraint, Freckles. You have to know that your pussy is perfect. Of course, I’m going to stare.”
One, I do not know. And two, he wants to stare? Well, two can play at that game. My gaze dives for his cock bouncing between us. He’s mostly soft, but it wouldn’t take much. “If I blow on it, would it stand at attention?”
“For sure and probably pledge allegiance to you too.” He holds my gaze—half-dare, half-torture—before heading back to my bathroom. He clicks off the lights as he returns, as if this is our nighttime routine.
I probably should mention that the one in the hall stays on all the time.
Just in case. Just in case the sounds or the sights want to revisit me.
Just in case I need to see warmth and real and home when my eyes inevitably spring open in panic.
If only to remind me that the bad guys are half a world away.
Well, those bad guys. The rest are under our noses. And they look just like me.
I’m taken from my musings when he folds the comforter back and slides into bed, pulling his glasses from his face and placing them on the nightstand. “Come here.”
“I’m not a snuggler.”
“Humor me.” He extends an arm and, with a sigh, I roll into his chest and wrap his torso with my arm.
His body is a work of art. And not like a twenty-five-year-old who shreds for a month at the gym to bulk up, but in the way that he takes care of himself and has for years.
“Tell me about yourself, Strider.”
His sigh is not what I expect. Neither are his words. “I’ve played it safe my whole life. I envy your bravery to look at what you don’t want and your willingness to change it.”
“I blew out my knee on an op. That’s not exactly the same thing.”
“Are you happier now than you were?” His arm squeezes my hip.
I nod against his chest but add a “yeah” in case he doesn’t know what I’m saying.
“Could you be happier still?”
I nod again but offer nothing verbal.
“Be brave and chase it, Freckles. You’re worth it.”
We fall into companionable silence, and after three orgasms, and the lone martini, I’m lulled into the warm cocoon of Strider’s body and fall sound asleep.
There are no nightmares. There’s no flailing and fitful sleep. In fact, when I wake in the morning, I haven’t even rolled into the cold spot as I have every morning since I was discharged from the Army.
But Strider is gone.
On the nightstand where he dropped his glasses last night, there’s a note.
That wasn’t a date. Not that I’m complaining, but remember that implied promise of a meal? I’m calling it in. Tonight, my your at the big house. I’m cooking. Do you have any allergies I need to know about? Text me if you do.
I didn’t want to leave without kissing you goodbye, but you looked so peaceful, and something tells me you needed the rest.
P.S. I confiscated your battery-operated boyfriend. Ransom note forthcoming.
He what?
I flip back the covers and rush to my bathroom. Sure as shit, the place where Kevin, my vibrator, spends his time, is empty.
Strider Anderson held me as I slept, wants to cook dinner for me, and kidnapped Kevin. What the hell’s a girl to do with that kind of conundrum?
This girl has a job, so putting Kevin and upcoming meals aside, I do my morning routine, log onto my work computer, and begin reviewing notes from my last assignment.
Yep, Mom got the guy, but it turns out his intel was less than stellar. Small player, small time. Not what we needed to make the case. Definitely not what we needed to close it.
The national electric grid is weak and vulnerable. And it’s wide-open on the back end for all manner of digital attack.
Malware. Ransomware. Foreign government takeovers. All are right there for the taking. Hell, we gave them the back door when their processors were equipped with Wi-Fi chips.
Seriously, how many administrations okayed or didn’t consider the risks?
This goes back to before I was born. And the manufacturer is in a nation hostile to our goals.
Right or wrong, they can access. A genius with a smartphone can hijack the whole grid and ransom it for some digital currency while they get rich and remain off the grid. Pun intended.
So having those conversations in rural Alabama with electrical contractors is bold. It’s brilliant. And it’s incredibly telling.
They’re no longer hiding the goal. They’re out in plain sight, saying the quiet part out loud.
The one caught in the snare thinks he’s a patriot, forcing more security and helping make the grid stronger. He has no clue who’s masterminding this or what they’re planning. I don’t either.
But I will.
No one will dig further or work harder than me.
One reason—even if I wish it weren’t the case—is Mom’s reputation looms large. I’m in her shadow. I always have been… at the agency, at home, in our family. This little town thinks the retired school secretary is genteel and proper.
I know better.
I’m also the only person who knows aside from my dad. Her allowing me to know has created a power imbalance that I’d love to right, one I wish didn’t exist.
June Jones—former operative, professional liar, and my mother.
And the reason I work my ass off to be the best of the best, even if it means lying to everyone I love.