Authors: Kallypso Masters
Tags: #ptsd, #bdsm, #bondage, #submissive, #dom, #spanking, #ptsd post traumatic stress disorder, #marine corps, #bondage and domination, #military action, #marines, #femsub, #maledom, #survivors of child sexual abuse, #veteran stories, #survivor guilt, #iraq war vet, #contemporary adult, #romance erotica, #military erotica, #domsub, #bdsm bondage, #romance contemporary, #iraq war veteran, #bdsm club, #maydecember romance, #afghanistan war veteran, #bdsm spanking
Standing a few feet away from him, as if on
guard duty, shivering inside her coat, stood Karla.
“What the f…heck are you doing out here?”
Her teeth chattered as she tried to answer.
He took off his jacket and put it on her to give her another layer
of warmth, then wrapped his arm around her, hoping to infuse some
heat into her thin body. “Let’s get you back home.”
“N-n-no, Adam. I have to tell you
something.”
Adam just pulled her along toward the house.
“We’ll talk when we get you out of this squall.” She tried to dig
in her heels, but he’d have none of it. Damned fool kid needed a
caretaker.
He’d been dreading going back into the chaos
at her house, but now he just wanted to get her inside as quickly
as possible. She’d catch pneumonia out here. They got as far as her
front door when Karla wedged her toe against the door and turned to
look up at him.
“Wait! Adam, there’s something you need to
know, and I can’t say this inside the house.”
Adam tried to block as much of the wind from
hitting her shivering frame as he could, but her black-and-pink
hair lashed across her face. He reached out and tucked the wild
strands behind her left ear because they distracted him from the
conversation that seemed so important to her. What in the hell
could she possibly have to say that couldn’t be said inside?
Karla splayed her gloved hand on his chest,
over his wounded heart, and looked up at him with those big
sparkling blue eyes surrounded by that god-awful makeup and pink
hair. She searched his eyes for a long moment, he didn’t know for
what.
Then he felt a niggling at the scar on the
back of his neck—always a sign he wasn’t going to want to deal with
whatever was incoming.
Fuck
. He hoped she wasn’t about to
say what he thought she was getting ready to lay on him.
“Adam, I n-n-n-know you have a wife and
y-y-y-you think I’m just a kid, but I want to t-t-tell you that…I
l-l-love you.”
Double fucking damn
. He’d need a
minesweeper to navigate these waters.
Joni, where are you when I
need you?
She’d know how to deal with a sixteen-year-old’s
crush. She’d been surrounded by teenage girls at the Catholic
school where she’d taught until last spring.
Help me out here,
baby.
“Hon, I love you, too.” Crap. That didn’t
come out sounding right, but surely she’d know what he meant.
When her eyes lit up and she pursed her lips
as if expecting him to kiss her, he turned his rudder hard to
starboard. She’d definitely taken his words the wrong way.
“Like a
father
, Karla. Hell, I’m old
enough to
be
your father.”
When tears welled up in her eyes and spilled
down her cheeks, his gut turned to mush. He always came undone when
a woman cried. But, hell, Karla was just a kid. Why did her tears
rip him apart even more? How in the hell had he let this
happen?
Now, wait a minute there.
He’d never
given her any indication he wanted to be anything other than a
guardian to keep her out of trouble. Fuck, he didn’t know anything
about teenage girls.
“Look, hon…”
Quit calling her hon, you
frigging asshole
. “Look, Karla, I’m an old man. Your life is
just starting. I’m sure there are lots of boys who’d—”
“But they’re so immature. All they talk about
is sports. I don’t have anything in common with them.”
What the hell did she have in common with
an old worn-out Marine?
God, he wished they made tactical maps
for situations like these. He was fucking clueless how to fend off
this attack.
“Nothing wrong with sports.”
Oh, that’s
profound, jarhead.
Damn. He liked this kid a lot. Didn’t want
to hurt her for anything. But he wasn’t a perv.
Just tell it like it is, man. You’ve never
had any problem doing that before. What’s different this time?
She’s a kid! And a girl!
I don’t want
to hurt her.
“Look, Karla. I like you a lot, but I don’t
feel that way about you.” When the light left her eyes, he felt
like a fucking heel. While he knew the words needed to be said, if
it were physically possible, he’d have given himself a good
roundhouse kick in the ass for whatever the hell he’d done to make
her think he’d welcome this heartfelt declaration. How could he
make it not seem like a rejection because there was something wrong
with her? She’d make a fine girlfriend and wife for some guy
someday. Just not him.
“I still love my wife.”
Yeah, that’s good.
Let Joni pull your prick out of the fire
. He didn’t have to
tell her his wife was dead. Besides, he did still love Joni. “You
have some growing up to do. I’m sure you’ll meet someone one day
who can love and respect you the way you should be loved.”
Karla tore herself away, opened the door, and
ran inside.
He laid his forehead against the cold
doorframe. What a fucking mess he’d made of that. Maybe it was a
good thing he and Joni hadn’t had kids. He’d make a lousy
father.
That fucking bus couldn’t get here soon
enough.
* * *
Karla tried to eat all the food on her plate,
but the lump in her throat, and Adam sitting across the table from
her, made that impossible.
“Good news, Adam,” Daddy said, beaming. “I’ve
managed to get you a ticket on a red-eye flight out tomorrow night.
Direct to San Diego. You’ll be back on base in hours rather than
days.”
Karla saw the stricken look on Adam’s face.
He must be horrified to think of being stuck with her another whole
day. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she hung her head down, hoping
they’d fall right into her burgundy cloth napkin without leaving an
embarrassing trail.
“That’s really not necessary, sir. I don’t
mind—”
“It’s done. The least we can do after all
you’ve done for us.”
Luckily, Daddy didn’t add to her
embarrassment by spelling out to everyone at the table why they
felt they owed this Marine something. But she and her parents knew.
All her fault. A few hours ago, she’d have been thrilled to know
Adam would be with her another day. Now she didn’t even know what
to say or do with him.
Karla had teetered on the verge of crying
since she’d been rejected by Adam on the front porch. Of course,
she didn’t want to break up his happy marriage or anything. But he
could have at least given her a little kiss to remember him by.
She’d never find anyone like him to love ever again.
Adam continued to avoid looking at her. He
didn’t eat much either, not even the casserole she’d made for him.
Another rejection. More tears.
Grandma began sharing stories about her
latest cruise and Karla zoned out until she heard Adam’s name.
“Adam, have you ever been to Mexico?” Grandma
asked.
“Yes, ma’am. My wife and I went to Cabo San
Lucas on a second honeymoon about ten years ago.” He cleared his
throat. “Beautiful place.”
Well, even if he wasn’t happily married,
he wouldn’t wait for you to grow up, Kitty.
No, he was so
handsome, he could have any woman he wanted. Besides, he didn’t
even know she existed. Karla felt the lump growing in her throat
and put her useless fork down. She hoped this nightmare dinner
would end soon so she could escape to her room and have a good
cry.
Why had she so embarrassed herself on the
porch? She needed to make conversation before her Mom hauled her
into the kitchen for having such bad manners. Karla looked up at
Adam. “I’ll bet you miss her a lot.”
His eyes got sad again and he looked down at
his plate. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Yeah, he loved her. She was a very lucky
lady. As if to keep from having to say more, he took a small bite
of her casserole. She smiled.
Mom said, “Karla, your broccoli casserole
gets better every year.”
Adam looked up at her as he chewed, smiling
across the table. “Best I’ve ever had.”
Karla’s tummy squeezed tight and she smiled
back.
After the dinner plates had been cleared, mom
pulled out the Quiddler cards and dictionaries and everyone at the
table played. Adam was pretty good at it, but Karla beat him in the
last round with the word “domination.” That was the best word she’d
ever gotten in the stupid game!
The next day went by in a blur, but Karla
could never get Adam alone to apologize for her stupid scene. By
the time she stood in the airport terminal saying goodbye, tears
spilled down her cheeks. Her father already had said goodbye and
thanked him, then had to go to his office at the other end of the
terminal to check on some emergency.
Saying goodbye wasn’t easy. “Adam, please
forget what I said on the porch. I was just being a stupid
teenager. But I’ll never forget you. Thanks for rescuing me.”
He shuffled his feet, then seemed to decide
something and met her gaze. “Karla, I know you aren’t going to
understand this, but you’re the one who saved
my
life. I’d
lost sight of what I needed…what was important to me
since…well….”
She thought she saw a glint of tears in his
eyes, but none fell. He looked down at the floor again. After a
moment, he continued. His voice sounded like he’d swallowed
sandpaper. When he looked into her eyes again, those freaky
butterflies returned to her stomach.
“If you hadn’t shown up in that bus station
two nights ago, Karla, I don’t know what…. I was heading back to
the war without the fire in my belly. It’s my job to make sure my
units survive their next missions and I….” He rubbed the back of
his neck.
She wished she could give him a neck rub to
calm him. He seemed so upset. Then his words registered.
Oh,
no!
He was going to Afghanistan or Iraq. She was sure of it.
That’s all she heard in the news now. Ian might be going to one of
those places, too. They both might get killed!
Tears spilled down her cheeks again. Good
thing she didn’t wear mascara. She’d known she was going to cry
when she said goodbye, just not how much. Suddenly, it was
important that she not lose track of Adam. His wife and family
would write to him, but Karla needed to know he was okay, too. He’d
become such an important part of her life in the last two days.
“Can I—?” She cleared the frog from her
throat. “Can I write to you, Adam?”
His gaze met hers and she thought he was
going to say no, then he smiled—another really sad one. She bet he
didn’t think she’d actually follow through, because she’d acted
like such a selfish teenager ever since he’d met her. But she
would. Every day.
Well, at least once a week.
“I’d like that.”
Before he changed his mind, she reached into
her purse and pulled out a treble-clef-shaped writing pad. She
wrote his name—well, he had to spell his last name for her—and then
his APO address. Ian had an APO, too.
Well, duh, Kitty. All soldiers have
those.
She vowed to herself she would also bake
goodies to send them both. “Do you like brownies?”
He got that look where she knew he wasn’t
thinking about her anymore. Then he smiled. “Yeah. With peanut
butter.”
Karla giggled. She’d never made that kind
before, but she’d learn. For her Adam. Maybe she could send him an
MP3 recording of her singing. Her music teacher wanted to record
demo tapes for her and another student to send to college
admissions offices.
“Why don’t you write down your address for
me, too?” She looked up. He wanted to write to her? “I probably
won’t get around to writing very often, but I’ll write when I
can.”
Karla scribbled down her address on the next
sheet and tore it off to hand to him. She wished Adam would hug
her, but he’d been very careful not to get anywhere near her since
she’d made a fool of herself on the porch.
But what if she never saw him again?
Karla wouldn’t risk never getting to feel her
arms around him one more time. She closed the space between them
and slipped her arms around his narrow waist. His sides felt like
steel bands and his heart beat fast against her cheek.
“I’m going to miss you, Adam.”
Just when she was about to let go, thinking
he wouldn’t hug her back, she felt his arms surround her and pull
her into his heated warmth.
Safe. Protected.
Adam. He’d always be her hero.
September 2003, La Jolla, California
“Hey, boy!”
Damián Orlando looked up from bussing one of
the isolated booths along the wall of the hotel restaurant to see
some rich-looking dude at the booth in the corner waving at him. He
did a slow burn at the condescending way the man in the white suit
addressed him, but smiled as he’d been trained to do.
In the booth next to the man sat the most
gorgeous blonde he’d ever seen. She reminded him of his little
sister’s Malibu Barbie doll—the one he’d decapitated accidentally
while they were playing dragons and princesses as kids.
Her pale skin looked fragile enough to break,
like his grandmother’s china. She pursed her cherry-red lips. He’d
enjoy kissing the lipstick off her full, sexy mouth. The thought of
those full lips sucking his…
“When you’re finished ogling my…date, would
you mind asking our server to bring us the top-shelf wine
list?”
The Barbie doll looked up at him and he saw
the apology in her sad blue eyes. What did she have to apologize
for? Her date was the jerk-off.
He looked at the man and clenched his fists.
Fucking jerk-off
. Damián smiled. “Yes…sir.”
What was she doing with such an asshole? He
shook his head. Understanding crazy rich people wasn’t what he got
paid for. He turned away from their table, happy to hide his
hard-on.
“You didn’t have to encourage him, slut.” The
man’s hate-filled whisper carried across the nearly empty room.