Disarmed Read Free Page A

extra leaves to the table and set up a couple of card tables in the living room for the children. The scene was closer to Thanksgiving than his homecoming, but he wouldn’t have expected anything less.
    His mother was doing what she thought was the best thing to get him accustomed to normal living. What she didn’t realize was he would need something else, something greater and more significant, to make him want to stay in West Memphis. He couldn’t see himself living there. There were too many people with expectations he couldn’t possibly meet.
    As the plates hit the table, Mavis prepared his meal for him, heaping portions of hot garlic butter mashed potatoes and baked ham with sticky sweet pineapple rings toothpicked into its sides.
    His mouth began to water. Whether he stayed in town or not, he was thankful for all his family and friends, and the food. He watched as M, his special name for her, took her seat beside him. For a moment, the warmth of her body penetrated his cold heart. A shroud of love radiated from her body and wrapped around him. And Jessie embraced it, if only for a moment.
    “Jessie, can you bless the food?” His mother’s voice dripped with honey and sentiment.
    “Sure, Mom.” Everyone around the table bowed their heads, hands clasped. “Dear Lord, I want to thank you for this day. For allowing me to return to some old and dear family and friends. I am so grateful that they are in my life. I would like to thank you for my peach cobbler, my favorite dessert, from the loving hands that prepared it. And for everything else that has been prepared today. It sure beats the food from the base. And . . . just bless everyone who is hurting today, Lord. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.” Jessie started once to pray for Stanton and his bride, for all the men that had lost their lives along the way. He didn’t want to dampen the moods of all his well wishers visiting him. It wasn’t their war, after all.

Chapter 3
    Jessie watched Mavis enter the dimly lit bedroom, her curvy and vivacious outline framed by the light coming from the hallway. That delightful peach scent hit the air as she closed the door and made her way over to his bed.
    He stretched across the full-sized bed on his stomach watching her. She’d helped his mother put the dishes away and straighten the house after all the guests had cleared out, while he’d ducked out on the women’s work during all the commotion.
    Her hair was gathered atop of her head. He remembered her when she was cleaning the house years ago. She would glisten with sweat, ringlets framing her face. Her neck reminded him of a swan, long and graceful. He used to sneak behind her and kiss her on the supple skin. She would fold into his arms, the way he hoped she would again.
    As she drew closer, she stripped the elastic that held the hair in place and shook the thick mane, allowing the stands to fall onto her shoulders and down her back. Standing immediately before the bed, but beyond his reach, she unbuttoned her shirt. She was skillful in the art of seduction. More than the exotic women that Jessie had encountered on his tours, more than anyone he’d ever met. He observed her aureole, darkened by the black lace of her bra, her rigid nipples impossibly stretching the fabric.
    “I was so happy to see you today, Jessie,” she said in a low, husky voice.
    “I can see that.” Jessie took in the sight as she slid her barely there skirt over her hips and let the silky fabric fall limply onto the floor. The black lace boy-cut panties matched her bra. Such silly things that women paid attention to, when all he was wondering was whether or not her sex was still covered in thick brown curls or if she’d gone bare. Would he tickle that soft skin as his shadow of a beard rubbed against her smooth flesh?
    “How ya’ been, old friend? I see you haven’t found that mangy dog of yours yet.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed, her mouth pouty with that light pink gloss