Vanguard (29 page)

Michael’s mother stepped forward first, embracing Sophie and kissing her on both cheeks. “Welcome home,
mana meita
.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sophie saw Michael’s eyes widen at the familial endearment.

Maxwell shook her hand first, then pulled her into a long embrace, thanking her over and over. After he released her, he turned to inspect the luggage. “It’ll be a tight squeeze with you two in the backseat and all this in the trunk, but we’ll manage.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s not necessary. I’ll cab back to Brooklyn.”

“Do you not wish to be with me tonight,
mana mila
?” Michael looked at her with consternation, keeping his voice low.

She blushed, looking away from his parents, who eyed them with far too much interest. Michael gave them both a warning look, which had no effect. His mother’s eyes grew bright with excitement.

“Of course I do. But I’ve had you to myself for some days now. Your parents want time alone with you.” She handed him his bit of luggage off the cart. “You know that I’d rather be with you than anywhere else in the world,” she said in a voice that only he could hear.

“As do I,” he replied. “I will miss you.”

Her eyes flickered nervously to his parents again. Understanding dawning on his face, Michael put his bag down, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. She hesitated for just a moment, then kissed him back. The world seemed to go away for a few moments.

“Finally,” Maxwell said after they broke apart. Michael didn’t take his eyes from Sophie’s, just cupped her cheek in his hand. Signe had started crying again. Sophie hoped she wept tears of joy and not resignation.

“Yes.” Michael picked up his things. “Finally. I will call you tomorrow,
mana mila
. Later on, so you can sleep as long as you would like.”

“Okay.” She felt unexpectedly panicked, seeing him prepare to leave. He had not been out of her sight since she’d found him some weeks ago. “Goodnight,” she said to his parents. “We’ll catch up in a few days’ time.”

~~ - ~~

The cab dropped her at her front doorstep in Brooklyn shortly before 2 a.m. She had no idea what time zone her body thought it was in. She gave the cabbie an extra twenty dollars to carry her things up to the second level of the house she rented.

Sophie surveyed her tiny home, which had survived another one of her long absences. She’d get her mail started back up the next day. Pick up some groceries. For now, she found a package of stale crackers in the cupboard, crammed a few into her mouth, and shuffled down the hallway to her bedroom.

Wearily, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Then she dug around in the bottom of her carryon bag and found a t-shirt of Michael’s that she’d pilfered. She stripped, pulled on the shirt, and sat down on the edge of her bed.

As she always did before she went to sleep at night, she grabbed her iPhone and plugged it into the wall adaptor. She hesitated, bouncing the phone in her hand. She remembered how many times she’d sat there last year, listening to Michael’s voicemail message over and over just so she could hear his voice. Never knowing if she’d ever hear the real thing again.

Michael is home. He’s safe. It’s okay now.

He’d lost his cell phone during the Soviet bombing that broke up his resistance cell, he’d told her. For some odd reason, it hurt to think of his phone out there, buried in the snow somewhere in the Orlisian woods. Maybe someone would find it one day, and wonder whose it was.

She flipped her phone open and dialed his number. It rang once and then went straight to a recorded message.

“
We’re sorry. The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again.”

They had finally cut the service off. Thoughtfully, Sophie set her iPhone down to charge overnight.

She fell into bed, pulling the shirt up to her face. Soap, a bit of sweat, his deodorant, a faint hint of male muskiness. The smell of Michael, touching her skin. It didn’t make up for his absence, but it would hold her until she could see him again.

~~ - ~~

February 27, 2014

Sophie felt like a teenager waiting for her prom date to pick her up.

The last few days had been strange. On one hand, it was a relief to be home, to grab those “normal” moments again. She’d visited all her favorite haunts. The coffee shop around the corner. The kosher bakery two blocks east. The fruit store where the owners knew her by name.

On the other hand, she was climbing the walls without Michael. She’d thought after so many years on opposite sides of the country that being apart for a handful of days would be a snap. Apparently that theory didn’t hold water after the seal was broken.

Which is how Sophie came to be folding clothes while she waited for Michael to pick her up. Freshly laundered clothes were a luxury in the field, and she always looked forward to them when she came home. Plus, she found laundry soothing for her twitchy nerves.

They were having dinner at Maxwell and Signe’s house that night. With characteristic lack of tact, he’d told her that his family dressed for dinner and she should not dress like a dockworker.
As if I would.

She pawed through her meager closet, looking for something nice. Admittedly, she lived in jeans and couldn’t afford a lot of fancy clothing on a nonprofit salary. Most of her special clothes came from consignment shops and outlet sales. She settled on a simple black dress, a soft blue cardigan, and flats. With come-fuck-me underwear and thigh-high tights.

She was pairing socks without much success – she always lost socks in the field – when she heard the sound of feet coming up the stairs two at a time. Seconds later, Michael rapped at the door.

“It’s open!” she shouted, trying to find a place to put down her mate-less socks. He pushed the door open, slammed it shut behind him, and locked it. He wore gray dress pants and a dark green sweater, a white button-down underneath. Everything fit loosely after he’d lost so much weight, but he still looked gorgeous.

“You should not leave the door unlocked like that! What if I were a thief?” He crossed the tiny living room and pulled Sophie to her feet, crushing her against him. “Or a very bad man with only one thing on his mind?” He buried his face in her neck, licking and nipping.

“God, I hope so.” She gasped he ground his hips against her. She could feel his iron-hard erection through the fabric of his pants. “How long have you been like this?” She reached down and rubbed him. He pushed roughly against her hand, grunting with pleasure.

“Every minute we have been apart.” He kicked the laundry basket aside, sending clean clothes flying in every direction. “But the last twenty-four hours have been hell. I cannot wait to have you,
mana mila
.”

“Then don’t wait.” She reached for his belt. “Have me now.”

The next thing she knew, she was on her back in the middle of the living room rug, scattered socks all around her. Michael stood over her, pushing down his pants. She yanked up her dress, tore off her tiny scrap of lace underwear and wantonly spread her legs for him.

He knelt between her legs. “Fuck, Sophie.” He ran his fingers up to the bare skin of her legs, then over her wet sex. Pulling her up onto his thighs, he pushed hard into her with an animalistic groan. She had to hold back a scream that was half pain, half outrageous pleasure.

“Oh God,” he gasped, pulling out slowly and then plunging back in. She wrapped her legs around his back. He went deep into her, holding her hips to control his thrusts. It was so good, and so very much what she needed.

“Mikael…” She arched her back with every stroke. She’d been ready for him for hours, and the feel of him rooted deep within her was more than she could stand. “Oh Jesus, yes, right there!” she shouted as he angled the next thrust upward. “So…fucking…good!” He did it again with every ferocious thrust, and she screamed, her orgasm pouring over her. He grabbed her hips hard and slammed himself into her, shouting her name as he climaxed.

Less than a minute after it started, Michael collapsed on top of her, panting. They both jumped when her neighbor banged on the wall with an irritated shout to keep the noise down.

“Did I hurt you?” he gasped. “I did not mean to be so rough. I was most eager for you.” She stroked the worry lines out of his forehead.

“I’m fine. I was very eager for you too.” She kissed him. “I might be a woman and smaller than you, but I’m tough. And I think you know already that rough is sometimes very, very good for me.” She kissed him again, more thoroughly. “Hello, Michael. Come in. How’ve you been these last few days?”

He laughed. “I am fine, love. It has been wonderful to spend time with my parents, but I missed you terribly.” He kissed her again. “So terribly that I had to take you on your living room rug immediately or else die of wanting you. So terribly that I want to take you again before we leave for my parents’ home.”

Michael put his lips to her ear and whispered exactly how he would fuck her, what he would do with his tongue and how much he wanted to hear her scream again. As he did so, his fingers slid inside her, his thumb rubbing tight circles around her swollen clit. Overwhelmed by the stimulation of her imagination and her body, she came helplessly against his fingers a few moments later, biting his shoulder to keep from disturbing the neighbors again.

She lay on the floor, gasping. A moment later, he settled between her thighs. “May I,
mana mila
?” She nodded. He slid into her, making love to her slowly until he threw back his head and exploded inside her with a strangled moan.

After a long moment, Sophie sat up. Her hair would be a wild mess, and she couldn’t imagine the state of her dress. “My God, what time is dinner? Are we late? You’ve probably been ticketed…”

“You worry too much.” He rolled over and started hunting for his pants. “Dinner is not for another two hours. I parked in a lot three blocks over.”

“Two hours? Why did you call for me so early?”

He smiled wolfishly. “So that I would have time to fuck you at least twice before we left. Maybe three times.”

~~ - ~~

Signe and Maxwell had trouble dragging their eyes off Michael throughout dinner. Their joy at having their son back was impossible to deny. Both looked years younger than when Sophie had left nearly two months before. While their scrutiny scared her a little, they also made it very clear that she had their approval.

Michael was uncharacteristically and charmingly nervous. His eyes flickered over to her at regular intervals, especially when Signe started making broad hints about the recent wedding of a family friend’s daughter. Sophie had to hide a grin with her hand.

After dessert, they relaxed around the table with tea. “Dinner was lovely, Signe. Thank you so much,” Sophie said. Signe smiled delightedly.

“My pleasure, dear. It is truly a celebration to have Mikael back home, especially now that you two are finally planning a future together.” After this startling remark, she turned to her son. “Go to the living room and relax. We will clear the table.”

“It is good to have you home too, dear.” Signe and Sophie carried the dessert dishes into the kitchen. “I have never seen Mikael so happy.”

“I’m glad,” Sophie said. “I’m very happy too.” She thought Signe’s smile couldn’t get any wider, but apparently she was wrong.

“He is a wonderful boy, is he not? Now go sit with him. Max will help me with the dishes.”

She left the kitchen and found Michael hovering in the hall. “Hi.” She snuggled in to steal a kiss. “Are you all right?”

“I was nervous.” He dropped warm kisses across her face. “But not anymore.”

~~ - ~~

The four of them talked about Orlisia, the war, and politics through the rest of the evening. Michael sat on the floor at her feet, his hand cupping her calf. She scratched her fingers across his scalp, and he purred with contentment.

Signe got up to put their empty mugs in the kitchen, and Sophie saw it was after eleven. “Maxwell,” she said, “can we talk before you go to bed?”

“Of course. Let’s go to my study, shall we?”

“Come.” She held out her hand to Michael, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. They followed Maxwell to his office where Sophie handed him an envelope. “This is how I spent the money.”

He unfolded the sheet of paper and scanned it. “When do Sergei and Sevastian arrive?”

“Next week. I’ve lined up a place for them to stay with a friend of mine. I’ll get them connected with the services they need to get on their feet. They’ll do well here if they stay out of trouble.” Michael made a small noise in his throat but said nothing. “Thank you for all you’ve done to ensure their safety, Maxwell.”

“I’m glad I could help. And I have something for you as well.” He reached into his desk and handed her a bulky envelope.

Sophie frowned at his cryptic words, then opened the envelope. Out tumbled dozens of folded pages. She picked one up and studied it.

“My cell phone bill?” Michael asked, hanging over her shoulder to peer at the pages.