By Honor Bound (8 page)

“Just be safe wherever you go, whatever you do.”

He held her gaze. “I love being a Marine, Angela.”

“I know. I’d never ask you to give it up. You’d only end up resenting me.”

“I could never resent you.”

Smiling, she kissed his lips. “That’s sweet, Abe, but you could and you would. I’m smart enough to know it. It’s more than a job to you. It’s part of who you are. I’m proud of what you do.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” He squeezed her tighter. “That’s good to know.”

It was true. She admired Abe and men like him. The Corps meant as much to him as she did, and asking him to give it up or whining because he decided to stay wouldn’t be fair. From the moment they’d met she knew what he was. She didn’t have to stop him that first night when he was going to leave because he wanted to kiss her, nor did she have to write him that letter when he’d left her after that incident in the basement.

“So tell me, Master Sergeant.” She straddled his hips, her hand splayed across his chest as she gazed into his eyes. “Do I get one of those weddings with Marines lined up on either side of me, drawing their swords?”

“If that’s what you want.” He ran his hands up her sides and cupped her breasts. Amusement gleamed in his eyes as he bucked a bit, his hardening cock rubbing against her. “Speaking of swords, I got one right here that can use a special kind of sheath.”

“Maybe I can help,” she purred.

“Darlin’, I believe you’re the only one who can.”

Angela’s eyes closed with pleasure as she curled her fist around his cock and guided him deep inside her warm, waiting pussy.

Chapter Eight

Two weeks before the wedding

“I think that looks just beautiful.” Patricia Franco gazed at Angela who stood in front of a full-length mirror wearing her wedding gown. It was cream-colored satin with a long train decorated with pink seed pearls that matched the pearls sewn along the edge of her veil. “Sweetheart, Abe is such a lucky man.”

“I can’t wait to marry him, Ma.”

“I know. All you and Polly do is talk about him. She’s going to make the cutest little flower girl.”

“She’s all excited about being in the wedding.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea that you and Abe are adopting her once you’re married.”

“He loves her like his own child, Ma.”

“I believe he does. You know, when your father and I first met him, we weren’t so sure about him, but he’s a good man.”

“He’s the best.” Angela smiled. When he’d proposed and she suggested they wait almost a year for the wedding, she thought it would fly by, but waiting so long to become his wife seemed to take forever. Just a little longer and she, Abe, and Polly would be a family by law, though in their hearts they already were.

For the past year, Abe had spent all his free time with Angela and Polly, planning the wedding. They’d decided that after they were married, instead of buying a new home, Abe would move into Angela’s. Already he’d made so many of the repairs on it that Angela had been putting off. Her parents were happy about the forthcoming marriage and, as a wedding gift, offered them a generous amount of money to help pay for the expenses.

Angela and Patricia glanced out the window as Abe’s car pulled into the driveway.

“He’s here early,” Patricia said. “Sweetheart, you’d better get out of that dress. You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in it before the wedding.”

“Tell him I’ll be right out, will you, Ma?”

Patricia closed the door behind her as she left. While Angela undressed and carefully packed away the dress, she heard voices from the kitchen. As usual, her belly fluttered at the thought of seeing Abe. She wondered if she’d ever completely get over that giddy feeling almost every time she saw him.

As she stepped into the kitchen, she knew by his expression he had something to tell her. Even Patricia appeared uncharacteristically quiet.

 “I’ll go pick up Polly at school,” Patricia said, patting Abe on the arm. “I’ll see you two later.”

“What was that about?” Angela’s gaze followed her mother as she left.

Abe approached. “I got orders today. I’m going back to ‘Nam at the end of the week.”

Angela drew a deep breath, stunned. She shouldn’t have been. All along she’d known he could be sent back at a moment’s notice.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” He took her in his arms. “I know the wedding’s planned and all, but—”

“How long?”

“Eighteen months.”

She nodded, forcing a smile. “Are you going to marry me first or wait until later?”

“If you don’t mind getting married without the big wedding, I would love to have you as my bride before I go.”

“I want that more than anything.”

Taking her in his arms, he kissed her forehead and lips. “Then let’s tell Polly and your parents.”

Angela clung to him tightly, closing her eyes. She wished that moment could freeze in time, so the end of the week would never come, and Abe would never have to leave her.

* * * * *

The day before Abe was to leave for Vietnam, he and Angela were married by a Justice of the Peace with her parents and Polly as guests.

Patricia cooked a delicious meal at Abe and Angela’s, but the Francos left early, giving the new family privacy before their separation. That night, Angela listened from the doorway as Abe read Polly a bedtime story.

“Abe, are you scared to go?” the girl asked as he tucked her in.

He sat on the bed and held her gaze. “Everybody gets scared about something at one time or another. When I do, I’ll have you and Angela to think about instead. Goodnight, darlin’.”

“Goodnight, Abe.”

He kissed her cheek and walked to the door. Taking Angela’s hand, he switched off the light.

Angela swallowed hard, willing herself not to cry. That would only make it harder for Abe and she certainly didn’t want Polly seeing her all teary. What kind of an example would that be? Tomorrow, when Abe was gone and Polly was off playing with her friends, she’d get upset. She could hold back until then.

In their room, Angela climbed into bed while Abe locked their door and pulled the shade. She heard him unzip his jeans and kick off his boots. When he slipped into bed, she snuggled close to his warm, naked body, her cheek resting against his chest. His heart beat steadily against her face. The thought that he might be wounded or killed in action suddenly overwhelmed her. No! She would not let this night be ruined. It belonged to them and she would not poison it for him by succumbing to her fears.

His arms enfolded her. Kissing the top of her head, he slid one of the straps on her nightgown down her shoulder and caressed the smooth flesh.

“Abe,” she murmured, straddling his waist and pressing soft kisses to his chest. She licked his nipples and splayed her hands across the hard pectorals, rubbing and squeezing the plates of muscle. Sitting up, she raised her arms, allowing him to lift her nightgown over her head. She wore no underclothes beneath, so her curves were bared to his touch.

“So beautiful, Angela,” he whispered, resting his hands on her waist and stroking upward, tracing her ribs with his fingertips. Cupping her breasts, he gently squeezed the full globes. His thumbs rolled over her nipples, circling over and over until they stood out stiff and aching.

While one hand continued stroking her breasts, his other found her clit. He circled it with a callused fingertip, feeling her grow wet against his belly. Rising onto her knees, she lowered her drenched pussy onto his cock, swallowing him inch by delectable inch. She wanted to make him happy tonight, so he could remember the warmth and love they shared whenever he was stuck somewhere terrible, surrounded by danger and yearning for home. Still, keeping her passion under control long enough to tease and please him was difficult when she wanted him so, so badly!

Their hands locked as she rocked upon him, keeping her mewls of desire trapped in her throat, as she didn’t want Polly to hear. It was so hard, not verbally expressing her lust as passion grew. Her heart beat frantically and her clit and pussy ached with desire.

Abe strained to see her in the darkness. He made out her silhouette, her gorgeous body gyrating astride him, her breasts so full and thrust forward as she moved sensuously.

Pleasure built deep inside him, centering in his cockhead. She enveloped him like a hot, wet velvet glove sliding over him, loving him on all sides.

Her breath rasped and he knew she was trying like hell to keep silent. Angela was normally a very vocal lover, but with the little girl in the next room, they’d both have to alter their ways a bit.

Abe grinned. It could be fun.

He gently rolled her onto her back without his cock sliding from her. Pinning her hands above her head, he covered her mouth with his and thrust with short fast strokes, pushing her toward a quick orgasm. Just when he sensed she was about to come, he slowed his movements, drawing out their pleasure. All the while he rimmed her lips with his tongue and thrust it into her mouth in time with his hips.

She panted, her body hot as her legs wrapped around him and her hips lifted to meet his.

For the first time, he felt a bit sour about leaving for a tour. Knowing he wouldn’t see Angela for eighteen months… Eighteen months! What if they never saw each other again? He wouldn’t think that way. He couldn’t. When had Master Sergeant Abraham Marley Forbes gotten so soft? Yes, he loved this woman with his heart and soul, but he was also loyal to the Corps. In order to do his best for both his woman and his country, he would give her a happy memory of her wedding night, then go and perform his duty with the single-mindedness that had gotten him through hell many times before.

His thrusts quickened and he immersed himself completely in her soft, feminine body. With her eyes closed and her limbs tight around him, she gasped as she came.

Her hot, wet pussy throbbed around his cock. In a burst of pleasure that stole his breath, Abe stiffened and strained in climax. Tearing his mouth from hers, he gasped against her ear.

“I love you, Angela,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Abe.”

“When I come home, you give me a night just like this.”

“I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.” She hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek.

Chapter Nine

December 1969

Vietnam

Abe sat on the floor of a hut where the army had set up an infirmary. He’d arrived that morning with what was left of his unit. Most had been picked off by snipers a few weeks ago. Many suffered bullet wounds that, while not fatal, left them weak from pain and blood loss. A couple more had fallen prey to traps made of shit-smeared spikes disguised by leaves and branches, rendering them helpless from infection. Abe and those left uninjured took turns carrying the wounded through the hot jungle, infested with vermin, traps, and enemy soldiers.

Shrugging his shoulders, Abe rested his head against the wall. His body had felt sore and sweaty for so long that he scarcely noticed anymore. That’s what happened after almost a year in hell. Not that he was complaining. He could be stuck back in the prison camp like last time, getting the shit beat out of him and his arms busted while some bastard fired questions at him. Being stuck in isolation could be just as bad, sitting alone, wondering if you’d ever look at another face like yours again, your head telling you there was no way you were getting out while your heart said your brothers would not abandon you.

Nearby a kid started crying. Medics were too busy to do anything about it. Abe pushed himself to his feet and approached It was a skinny girl, a little younger than Polly, with bandages on her face and arm. He talked to her, using what Vietnamese he’d picked up, and she quieted a bit.

Funny he could be comforting this one today and busting in on another kid’s village tomorrow. No point thinking about it. Unfortunately, there were more times than most people imagined that you could just ponder these thoughts, trying to figure out what was right or wrong. Those concerns faded fast when faced with a deadly situation, though. Survival instinct seemed to win out over almost any other.

The kid fell asleep and Abe glanced around. Civilians gazed at them with wariness in their eyes, even the ones who smiled outwardly. Medics worked. Some of his men sat talking, others in silence.

Lying in a corner, a private, his chest swathed in bandages, glanced in Abe’s direction. Abe remembered what it felt like being fresh out of boot camp. He’d been luckier than this kid and not been thrust into combat right away. Training prepared you for the motions, but nothing could prepare you for the
e
motions of the first real taste of enemy fire.

Abe squatted beside him. “How you doing?”

“Fine, Sir.”

 “Boring lying there.”

“Kind of, Sir.Lots of time to think.”

Abe nodded. “Home?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Where’s that?”

“Texas.”

“That’s where I grew up. Near Austin.”

“My girl’s from Austin. We’re getting married when I get home.”

“Not too much longer, then.”

“That’s what I hope, Sir.”

“This your first time here, private?”

“Yes, Sir. How many times have you—”

“This is my third.” Abe rested a hand on the private’s shoulder. “Rest up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Looking at the youth’s sallow skin and reluctance to move or even talk too loudly due to the pain of the injury, Abe could hardly believe his narrow escapes over the past year. Every time he got through a shower of bullets or discovered a trap before he stepped on it and got his feet punctured or his legs blown off, he was grateful. Being wounded was no picnic, but there were worse things, he well knew.

He stepped out of the hut and leaned a shoulder against the side of it. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out two letters. They were stained and tattered from being read so much, but just looking at them made him feel better. One was from Angela the other from Polly. They’d given him the letters the morning he left, knowing that it might be next to impossible to reach him during his tour. Polly’s was short and sweet, the loving words of a little girl. Angela’s was a bit longer and he knew it by heart.