Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7) (19 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Late Winter 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

I had been blessed with an opportunity to babysit Casey while Shane and Kace went out to eat dinner and see a movie. For the first hour and a half, Casey slept and had absolutely no interest in waking, regardless of how much I wanted him to.

As he began to stir in his swing, I rushed to it and reached down to pick him up.

“Listen up, Little Man,” I said as I pulled him from the swing.

As I raised him even with my face, he smiled. Seeing him smile was one of the best rewards life had ever offered me. With an adult, it was always anyone’s guess whether the smile was genuine or not. With a baby, I knew it was always genuine. Babies don’t lie and tell a man what he wants to hear, and they’re always honest.

And a smiling baby is a happy baby.

“Your old man is a good fella.”

He gazed off in the distance, well beyond me and toward the wall.

I carried him to the changing table, lowered him onto it, and opened his dirty diaper.

‘Do you hear me?” I asked him as I changed his diaper.

His mouth curled into a slobber-covered smile as if he fully understood every word I said.

“He’s a good solid dude, and you need to be sure and make him proud of you as he teaches you about life. Is that understood?”

Again, he grinned and cooed, apparently understanding each and every word. I picked him up, cradled him in my arms, and began pacing the house as we spoke. Having Casey in my life allowed me to look at things not necessarily differently, but with a more open mind. He provided me what the Ferris wheel provided me, an entirely different perspective on life.

A view from an alternate vantage point.

My exposure to him allowed me to develop a better relationship with God, as I was now sure God was looking down on all of us with compassion and understanding, which was something I had always worried about in the past. In short, Casey was damned good for me.

His eyes followed mine as I admired his ability to maintain focus not only on me, but on what I said each time I spoke. I realized he didn’t understand me, but it was nice telling myself he did. One day, without a doubt, he would, and when that day came, I would be a very proud uncle.

“That’s what I thought,” I said with a nod. “I knew the minute you were born you’d be a good listener. You see, we grow up a product of our environment. Violence breeds violence, and a loving family teaches compassionate behavior. Your parents are as good as gold. They love you. And Ripp and I love you, Little Man. You need to know if you ever want someone to just kick it with you can always come to uncle A-Train. Remember that. I’ll keep telling you, just in case your little baby brain forgets. But I’ll be here for you, Little Man. Always.”

“You see, my old man was a pretty good dude, but he didn’t so much care for kids. Me? I’m different. I like little fellas like you. One of these days, I just might have to have one of my own. Maybe make a little brother for you. Some might call him a cousin, but that’s not the case.”

I shifted my eyes from the window down to his face. His eyes were drifting closed. “Are you paying attention to me, kid-o?”

The tone of my voice changing caused him to open his eyes and smile. As his gaze met mine, he giggled, opened his mouth, and released a little bit of baby slobber onto his cheek. I reached down to wipe off his mouth, and his eyes attempted to follow my finger, but he soon lost focus.

“We’ll need to work on that, wont we?”

I moved my finger back and forth in front of his face slowly. As I did, his eyes followed it for the entire time.

“That’s better. We’ll tell your old man when he gets home you’re going to be a good baseball player. He’ll be excited. You’ll just have to remember to always keep your eye on the ball, little man.”

He grinned, got excited, and spit up a little bit. After I wiped his face with a burp rag, we got back to our discussion.

“Brothers are brothers, and don’t ever let anyone tell you differently. Your aunt Katie and I might just make you a little brother or sister someday. If she’ll marry me, that is. I asked her father for permission, and he gave me the go ahead, so it’s all up to me now. I just need to make sure I’m ready for everything.”

I heard the garage door open as we finished talking about the possibility of a marriage proposal. From the sound of the voices, Dekk and Kace had returned from the movie.

“Keep that marriage stuff quiet little man. Got it?” I asked.

“Right here,” I said as I cradled him in one arm and held out my clenched fist with my free hand. “Pound it.”

Babies invariably have clenched fists. Further proof they’re always ready to make a promise and have every intention of keeping it. As I pounded my fist against his, he laughed.

“I know, the thought of it makes me giggle too,” I grinned.

As I carefully placed Casey into his swing, I wiped his mouth one last time and kissed him on the cheek.

“We don’t want your folks thinking I held you the entire time they were gone, so keep that quiet too.”

Filled with gratitude and appreciation for everything Casey provided me, I bowed my head and closed my eyes.

If you let me make Katie a part of my life, I’ll make you proud, Lord.

I certainly will.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Early Spring 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

Immediately following high school, I joined the military. Soon thereafter, I met Suzanne, and quickly got married. My deployments overseas to the war began as soon as my military training was complete, and they continued for over ten years. In short, my only exposure to the real world as an adult without the atrocities of combat, battle, and war, had been since my return from The Middle East.

The time I spent in Wichita following the war was unhealthy for me, and allowed me little, if any, recovery from post-war emotional and mental complications. My decision to move to Texas proved to be an excellent one, the elimination of stress alone allowed me to proceed through life with wide-open eyes. My new home allowed me, for the first time, to begin my journey not only to recovery, but to becoming a civilian responsible for his own actions.

Although I had been in combat for 12 years commanding troops, and home from the war for almost three years, I was experiencing the situations and making the same decisions that a high school senior would be forced to make upon graduating high school. My time in the Marine Corps did little to prepare me for living civilian life, and everything from housing, meals, and even medical provisions were provided for us.

I was cautiously proceeding through life no differently than if I was walking through a minefield.

And, since I had been in Texas, I had stepped in all the right places.

“I am so relaxed, it’s crazy,” she said.

With the tip of my index finger I traced along her skin lightly, from her shoulder to her wrist. Her skin was tanned from exposure to the Texas sun, yet silky smooth and without flaws. As she remained motionless, I slipped my finger under her hand and lifted it from the cushion.

I softly gripped the tips of her fingers and lifted her hand toward my face. Her eyes followed the movement of her hand, and as my lips pressed against the surface or her skin, she shifted her eyes to meet mine.

“Your skin,” I said as I gazed along the length of her arm. “It’s so soft.”

“So are your lips,” she responded. “I love it when you kiss me. It gives me goosebumps.”

“Scoot in here and lay down with me,” she said as she patted her hand against the cushion.

Comfortably positioned on the couch, seated beside her hips, I stared down at her and shook my head. “Not yet. I like it here.”

She nodded her head and closed her eyes. As she lay motionless, I admired depth of her true beauty. To me, in many more ways than her looks alone, she defined perfection.

Each time I looked at Katie at for any length of time, it raised wonder as to why she would choose to find interest in me. I felt undeserving of her attention, unworthy of her love, and often uncertain that her love for me could last a lifetime.

“On a scale of one to ten,” I said. “How happy are you right now? Not
right
now, but in general. With me?”

“Ten,” she responded without opening her eyes.

I feel the same way.

I lifted her hand to my lips again, paused, and shifted my eyes to her waist. Her shirt had lifted, exposing a few inches of her stomach. After an extensive period of time, I reached for the bottom of her shirt with the intention of pulling it down to meet the waist of her shorts. With my free hand half-way to her shirt, I hesitated and shifted my eyes to her face.

Her eyes were still closed.

As I lowered my hand into my lap my eyes quickly fell to her waist. The slight guilt I felt for admiring such a remote and sensual portion of her body slowly faded away, leaving me feeling rather curious.

I gazed blankly at the four-inch section of exposed skin for some time, wanting time to jump forward to a day when we were married – a time in which I would naturally feel that my exploration of her would be without limits, free from reservation, and filled with nothing but pleasant memories.

“Touch me,” she said softly.

The guilt which had faded away quickly came rushing back. Almost as if I was a child again, caught for doing something I had been warned not to, I shifted my eyes to meet hers, only to find her smiling softly with her eyes opened ever-so-slightly.

“I thought you were going to. It’s okay, Alec. Touch me,” she said.

“I…”

As I began to explain, I stopped, realizing that my desire to feed my curiosity was being fed fuel by her approval to proceed. I smiled, shifted my focus to her waist, and convinced myself touching her could be harmless as long as my intentions were pure.

With the backs of my knuckles I brushed her shirt upward slightly, exposing yet more of her silky smooth skin. As I admired the contour of her stomach and the slight depression into her naval, I flattened out my hand and raked the tips of my fingers ever-so-lightly around the surface of her skin.

Softly, she began to moan. Her state of mind was unmistakable. The sound escaping her lips was derived from pleasure, not pain. I continued, hoping to feed her desires without causing her any discomfort whatsoever.

Fed by each of her rather vocal releases of delight, I continued to trace my fingers along her skin in a circular motion, raising the bottom of her shirt ever so slightly each time my fingers passed by the fabric.

Soon, the curved portion of the bottom of her bra was exposed, and although I initially – and naturally – felt the need to pull her shirt down to cover the undergarment, I fought the urge, and continued to enjoy softly touching her skin – my reward being her repeated outbursts of pleasure in response to my touch.

With my eyes fixed on her stomach and following the pattern my fingers outlined on the surface of her skin, I watched as she arched her back and lifted herself from the surface of the couch slightly.

She removed her hands from behind her back and flattened herself onto the couch. 

“Take it off,” she said.

I swallowed heavily and shifted my eyes upward until they met hers.

“My bra,” she said. “Take it off.”

I gazed down at her body for what seemed to be an eternity, not quite sure of what to do next. As I sat alongside her thighs on the edge of the couch peering down at her, I felt rather foolish and slightly immature. Slowly, she sat up, reached into her shirt, and pulled her bra from underneath.

With the bra dangling from her fingertips, she lowered herself to the couch, draped her arm over the edge, and dropped it onto the floor. I shifted my eyes to her mid-section. Her shirt once again covered the skin I was so eager to caress.

As I stared down at her shirt, afraid to make any sort of advancement, I wondered exactly what prevented me from doing what it was I knew she found pleasure in. I decided, after a long pause, that it was nothing other than the guilt of moving too quickly or in a manner that brought her something other than pleasure. Frankly, I had no idea of what it was she wanted or how to proceed.

As I continued to stare, dumbfounded and confused, she sat up, pulled her shirt over her head, and tossed it onto the floor. Still sitting up and facing me, she leaned forward and reached for the bottom of my shirt. With our eyes locked on one another, I leaned in for a kiss. As our tongues explored what our minds desired and our mouths were either too innocent or too protective to say, I reached down and helped her pull my shirt over shoulders.

As we continued to kiss, I pressed my chest to hers, leaving the shirt draped over my shoulders. With my hands and mind at battle over how to proceed, my hands soon won, and found their way to the underside of her breasts. 

I softly kneaded her flesh in my hands as we continued to kiss, finding the vibration of her pleasurable gasps against my lips to be rather sensual. Eventually our mouths parted, and she leaned away from me, fully exposing her bare chest to my exploration. My eyes admired the fullness of her breasts, and my hands soon followed. As I softly squeezed, she groaned in pleasure, arching her back a little further each time.

Cupping the bottoms of her breasts in the web of my hands, I lowered my lips to her erect nipples and opened my mouth fully. I pressed my face against the surface of her skin, circling her nipple with my tongue.

The repeated moans that filled the room left little doubt as to her pleasure, and I continued based on the sound of her expressed excitement alone.

I realized as I continued that we had done very little speaking, and further understood doing so wasn’t at all necessary as long as I was receptive to her manner of communicating to me.

I lifted my mouth from her swollen nipple, leaned toward her bicep, and kissed my way to her shoulder. With my hands softly squeezing the upper portion of her arms, I lifted my lips from her shoulder, met her gaze, and grinned.

I reached out and lifted her chin slightly. After a few seconds of admiration, I kissed her again, softly and slowly, only to pull my lips from hers and move my mouth along her jaw and to her neck. As I nibbled and kissed her neck, her writhing against me became more intense and passionate. I continued for some time, and eventually slowed my pace until she became calm.

After a long moment of regaining my senses, I kissed her passionately and fully. As our lips parted, her eyes met mine and we shared a silent moment of admiring each other.

“I love you, Alec,” she said.

My response was immediate.

“And I love you,” I said.

And, for the first time in my life, I had no doubt that it was genuine.