Anything For You: A Coming Home Short Story Read Free Page A

“Tell me so I can do it again tomorrow.”
    Jen smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, settling her thighs on either side of his hips. “Nothing special.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. “Just practicing, that’s all.”
    “Practicing for what?”
    “The rest of our lives,” she whispered.
    “Now, that is a hell of a good plan.”
    She rolled her hips against his as she kissed him, opening her mouth over his. It was daring for her, far more daring than she would have been a few months ago. It had taken her forever to simply find the courage to remove her prosthetic in front of him.
    She arched against him as she remembered how she’d nearly wept the first time he’d seen the scar where her breast had been. And then he’d kissed her, right there, and told her he loved her. With her breasts. Without them.
    That simple act of loving her, loving all of her, missing parts and all, had taken her to a place she’d never thought she’d find.
    And now, pulling open his uniform top, she felt transformed. Beautiful. Whole. Regardless of her scars. She tugged his t-shirt over his head and pressed her lips to the black ink over his heart. His skin was hot beneath her mouth and she traced one of the tribal lines with the tip of her tongue before sliding a little lower down his body. The carpet caressed her bare knees.
    The sound he made deep in his throat sent pleasure spiking through her veins. He threaded his hand through her hair. Her fingers curled over his ribs and his stomach quivered beneath her light kiss.
    “Jen.” His voice was a gasp, thick and guttural.
    She met his gaze, the big strong man laid low by a simple kiss. She smiled, but then her confidence escaped her. “I’m pretty sure I’m not good at this.”
    His mouth fell open. “I’m pretty sure whatever you do will be perfect.”
    She laughed quietly, wanting to claim the power of taking him in her mouth. Wanting to finally dare do something she’d never done with a lover.
    She was terrified of screwing up. There were so many logistical things that did not simply come on instinct. She kissed the soft line of hair beneath his navel and felt him tense as she worked his belt.
    She popped the buttons open on his uniform pants. One by one, she freed them, finding him without his normal boxer briefs and very, very aroused. “No panties?”
    “Men don’t wear panties,” he mumbled. “I forgot to pack them this morning. Can we please not talk about underwear?”
    He sounded pained. Jen licked her bottom lip, wrapping her hand around his erection. He was steel and satin beneath her touch. She almost giggled, remembering the first time she’d touched him when he’d been hard. She’d needed to remove the catheter he’d been complaining about from the moment of his arrival at the hospital, but when she’d gone into his room, he’d had an erection. For as long as she lived, she’d never forget his expression of horror mixed with downright humiliation.
    “I know what you’re thinking,” he growled. “Am I never going to live that down?”
    She gave up and surrendered to the laugh that bubbled in her throat.
    He sighed, then did the unexpected. He shifted and pulled her back into his lap. Twisting his hand into her hair, he kissed her breathless as his fingers found her heat and stroked until she rocked her hips against his touch. He brought her right to the brink of pleasure. He stopped, to pause and roll a condom in place before he slid home, deep. She frowned, realizing he’d distracted her from her goal of going down on him. “I didn’t get to—”
    “Some other time,” he said against her lips as he began to move beneath her. He gripped her hips, guiding her to the rhythm they both needed. She loved this position. She felt powerful and strong.
    Loved. She kissed him, losing herself in the pleasure of his touch, his taste, his feel. Her body shattered around him, and he followed a moment later, his breath hot against her