Hunter - Big Girls & Bad Boys (13 page)

“Thank you, Penn...I mean, mom,” I said and hugged Penny. I had little idea how to go about doing what I suddenly knew I must but I would figure it out.

“You’re welcome dear,” she replied but as we parted, she had more to say. “For the record, I was pregnant with Hunter when I was on the steps of the state capitol protesting the Gulf War. I see a lot of me in you,” she explained.

“This might sound weird, but will you be my best friend?” I said, half kidding.

“Oh the trouble you and I could get into,” Penny told me with a wicked smile. Nate looked back at us in the rearview mirror and shook his head. “Oh get your mind out of the gutter, Nate,” she told him. We all had a good laugh and it felt good.

>>O<<

The months went by without Hunter. His family was my only savior during those trying times. Daisy and I agreed to disagree so we could finish out the semester. I didn’t tell her I got married, only engaged. Better to not throw gasoline on a fire, right? I graduated that May. My mom and dad were there along with Nate and Penny. They lived a couple of miles from the university but I think they would have flown across the country to see their newest daughter graduate.

Penny and I were thick as thieves while her son was deployed. I spent many evenings and weekends at my in-laws house and Penny and I had many adventures. She seemed to be eager to keep her own mind preoccupied as well as mine. I was glad for that. We didn’t get in too much trouble, though she might have sent pictures of me getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper to Hunter for me. Maybe. And if she did, Hunter was grateful for it.

After I graduated, I did a little soul searching as I worked odd jobs to pay the rent on my new one-bedroom apartment. Finally, I decided to go back to school and work on a secondary degree in psychology. But I didn’t enroll at Berkeley. I planned to enroll at UC San Diego once Hunter came home. In the meantime, I stayed in Berkeley to be close to my new family, especially Penny, my new partner in crime and emotional crutch.

Life went on, slowly and at times painfully. The emptiness was punctuated by tiny moments of great joy when Hunter was able to call home. But those times were few and far between and though I was happy to hear his voice or sometimes see his face, he sounded different, distant. Between those calls, worry became my new overriding pastime. Worry for both my husband and his buddies. I wasn’t religious or even sure I believed in God but I assure you, I prayed every night for their safe return.

Then one night as I watched television, the call came. I hung up and for a moment, I didn’t move. I couldn’t believe what I’d been told and as it sank in, I hugged myself and began to cry.

>>O<<

I stood on a dark tarmac as the big airplane taxied our way. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d never done this before. It was nearly two in the morning. Women and children, the families of the men returning home I assumed, held banners and waved flags. I had nothing to celebrate at the moment. I didn’t know what to expect.

Inside, my stomach was churning. It had been over six months since I saw Hunter. I’d spoken with him over Skype when we could link up our schedules but even those virtual visits weren’t the same as seeing him in the flesh. I’d been apart from my husband longer than I’d been with him during our short marriage. Nate and Penny declined to come along. They told me it was my place now to greet my husband, not theirs.

The plane eased to a stop as men began to ready things on the ground. The engines slowly stopped spinning and finally, a door opened. A Marine appeared and made his way to the ground. A woman off to the side of me squealed in delight. Obviously, he was her Marine. I watched as more Marines disembarked the aircraft, the tension rising with each and every one.

I was shocked at the way they looked. Each appeared tired, distant and gaunt. They seemed a bit overwhelmed as they exited the aircraft to the cheers and shouts of the crowd gathered around. I watched intently for Hunter but when I finally saw him, I hardly recognized the man I fell in love with. He was thinner than I remembered and he had a steely-eyed stare, almost as if he was still on a mission. He never surveyed the crowd to see if I was there. He just descended the stairs dutifully.

The Marines lined up in formation, some of them extricating themselves from the hugs of their overzealous loved-ones, and after a few words by an officer, they were dismissed. Some men all but ran to hug their wives or girlfriends, to hold their children or meet babies that had been born in their absence. I was overcome with emotion as I saw the joy they felt. These men had endured over half a year away from family and friends and they did it for me...for all of us. They did it to protect our nation and the politics were largely lost on these Marines. They did it out of honor and duty, not for any fickle agenda. They did it because no one else would.

I moved through the reunited families. I’d lost Hunter in the mix and searched for him frantically. Then I saw him. He looked lost and forlorn. He looked tired. I worried maybe the experience had changed him somehow, that it had stolen the man I married so suddenly. It was selfish but that was what I thought. Would he still be the same person I married? I wasn’t sure as I saw the haunted look in his eyes.

Then Hunter scanned the crowd and his eyes swept past me. I almost called out, sure he had missed me, but then Hunter’s eyes came back to me and locked on. He began walking towards me with purpose.

The strange, distant man that emerged from the plane disappeared in an instant. Light came back to his eyes and a smile crossed his face as he realized I had come to greet him. Hunter dropped his sea bag and walked with purpose towards me and before I could utter a word, he lifted me off my feet with a powerful embrace. When Hunter set me back on my feet, I saw him. I saw the man I married, returned to me.

“I missed you,” he told me. I wiped away tears as I stared at the man I fell in love with, the Marine that showed me what was really important in life.

“I missed you too,” I said. There was an awkward pause, for me anyway, until Hunter cupped my face in his hands and kissed me like he did when I married him. I felt my knees go weak.

“I’m home. I’m really home,” he said, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. I lay my head on his chest as he hugged me.

“I love you, Hunter,” I said.

“I love you too, Mel,” he replied as we hugged. I never wanted it to end but we couldn’t very well stand on the tarmac all night. “So, Mrs. McCoy, what’s the plan? I’ve got some leave coming,” he said as we parted. He took my hand and we went to get his discarded sea bag. He threw his sea bag over his shoulder and we walked towards the gate.

“Well, I was hoping we could take advantage of that housing allowance you talked about...especially since I’m going to enroll in UC San Diego for the spring semester,” I said. I hadn’t told Hunter my plans. Partly so it would be a pleasant surprise and partly because we had more immediate things to discuss during our infrequent calls.

“You graduated,” he said, confused by my declaration.

“I’m getting a secondary degree...in psychology. I’ve been thinking. Honestly, you and your mom kind of nudged me in this direction. I want to help veterans...you know, to readjust, to heal,” I said. I didn’t need and wasn’t seeking Hunter’s approval...or maybe I was. Still I wanted to hear what he thought of my plans.

“That’s fucking awesome,” he said and I could feel the excitement in his voice.

“I was hoping you’d feel that way,” I said.

“You know, you could start right now. I know a certain Marine that needs some healing. Some sexual healing,” he told me. I rolled my eyes.

“That’s corny as hell,” I replied.

“But it worked, didn’t it?” he said. I looked away.

“Yeah, it worked,” I replied and turned back to Hunter. “So, your leave? We can take a little vacation?” I asked.

“You mean a honeymoon?” he corrected.

“Oh, yeah. I guess so, huh. I’ve been married so long I forgot,” I joked. Hunter chuckled.

“I can’t leave for a few days. I need to debrief, turn some fucking gear in, shit like that. After that, I can leave,” he said.

“Good, ‘cause this girl’s husband just got home and she’s going to Disneyland,” I said.

“Sounds perfect. I fucking love Pirates...and have you been on that new Racers ride. Fucking outstanding,” he said.

“What’s with all the cussing? I don’t care but...,” I asked. Hunter smiled despite himself.

“Sorry, it will go away. I’m a Marine...we swear a lot. Takes a few days to get out of the habit,” Hunter explained.

“Oh, well that fucking explains it,” I replied. Hunter laughed and it was good to hear. I found out later that his unit suffered a few casualties but nothing serious. They mostly sat around in the middle of the desert supporting Iraqis. That’s about all he could really say but it sounded better than I hoped but worse too. I was just glad Hunter was home, safe and sound.

“So, remember our honeymoon?” I asked him.

“Uh, yeah! Like it’s been my favorite fucking thing to think about,” Hunter said.

“Can we do that again...you know, the butt sex and the pussy eating and, well, all of it?” I asked hopefully.

“You read my fucking mind, Mel. I slept on the plane. I’m beat but I’m not tired. Some butt sex will help revitalize me,” he said playfully.

“I rented a minivan,” I replied and Hunter knew exactly what that meant.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” I replied. We picked up the pace as we headed for the parking lot. Sleep was overrated, right? We climbed in the van and drove off the base. “Which way?” I asked.

“Left, I know a beach where we can park,” he said and then as I pulled out onto the street, Hunter asked me another question. “Did you and my mom really go to a strip club?” he asked. I giggled.

“Yeah, we did,” I admitted.

“That is so cool and so...creepy,” he told me. I laughed even louder.

“We have a lot to discuss,” I said. Hunter cocked an eyebrow and then reached over and squeezed my thigh.

“I’m going to regret asking, aren’t I?” he wondered.

“Yes...and no. It’s not so much what your mom and I did. Other than the strip club, it was all pretty mundane. It was the things she told me and the ideas they gave me,” I explained.

“It’s fucking good to be home,” Hunter said. I agreed. It was good to have him home.

The man I met that turned out to be a Marine had turned my life inside out. The craziest decision of my life, to marry a man I hardly knew, turned out to be one of the best things I ever did. Oh, there were hard times but they paled in comparison to the good times and through it all, those hard times never drove a wedge between us.

If two people from such different worlds can find love, can’t we all. And maybe when it’s all said and done, loving Hunter might be the best thing I ever did. Protesting war was one thing but loving a Marine and being loved right back, well, that was living my convictions. Make love, not war, right? And Hunter and I found a way to do just that.

>>O<<

The End

But don’t go just yet. Keep going to read your bonus novel, Softail Curves!

Softail Curves

Act I

“Oh my lord, you have to be kidding,” Becky said and I followed her gaze. It was Saturday night and Becky and I were out drinking and hoping to meet Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Right Now. So far, we were striking out and it looked as if that trend would continue as I located the guy Becky had spotted heading our way. Was this guy for real?

As Mr. American Chopper approached, I saw Becky roll her eyes. He looked like he just walked off the set of Easy Rider, wearing an American flag bandana that held his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes. The cliché didn’t stop there, however. He wore a black t-shirt with a half-naked girl on a chopper emblazoned on the front, blue jeans under leather chaps and scuffed leather boots. A heavy chain draped from his fat leather belt to his back pocket, keeping his wallet safe I suppose. Tattoos, mostly of motorcycles, skulls and naked women, covered his arms. However, it was his eyes that caught my attention.

Sure, he was a walking stereotype but his blue eyes told me there was more to this guy than his looks might suggest. For a moment, I wondered if he was a real biker or an orthodontist playing dress up for the weekend but something told me this guy was the real deal. He sauntered up to our table, looked Becky up and down then turned to me. His eyes swept up and down my curvy body hungrily. Apparently, deciding I was his preferred target, he turned his back to Becky.

“What’s your name?” he asked. I glanced at Becky and she was scowling at this guy, obviously not happy at being ignored even though I was sure she would have shut him down in any case.

“Shauna,” I said dismissively. He looked me over again and I suddenly felt self-conscious. I was out hoping to attract the opposite sex and dressed for it. My sleeveless white dress left my ample cleavage and thighs exposed. The dress flattered my round, curvy body but I still didn’t like it when a guy looked too closely. And this guy was all but undressing me with his eyes.

“My brothers call me Dutch but you can call me daddy,” he said. I wanted to laugh but he was completely serious and the edge to his voice told me he meant it. Behind him, Becky laughed.

“Oh my lord! Really?” she said but Dutch only ignored her. He was making me uncomfortable but not in a scary way. It was the way my body reacted to his words that frightened me. My breathing quickened, I felt hot suddenly and my pussy tingled. This guy wasn’t even close to being my type but my body begged to differ.

“I’m not really interested, Dutch,” I said gently, hoping he would take the hint and leave. I should have known better.

“Yes, you are. I can see it. I can smell it on you. I’ll be over there when you figure that out,” he said and walked away. I watched him go, his tight ass, wrapped in that old denim, begging me to dig my nails into his flesh. I shook my head and looked at Becky.

“What a creep!” she said and cringed dramatically. I nodded in agreement. I guess he was creepy. However, if he was, why was I so turned on? Why was I suddenly imagining him pounding me senseless as his hands dug into my lush curves? I shook the image from my head and decided, yes, he was a creep. I almost believed it too.

“Did you see how he raped us with his eyes?” I said trying to convince Becky I was as disgusted as she was, or was I trying to convince myself?

“No kidding. I need a shower,” Becky joked and I laughed. I slammed the rest of my white wine to calm myself and asked Becky if she wanted another. I already knew the answer. I stood and grabbed her empty glass before she even answered. “Of course,” she told me.

“I’ll go get us refills, you watch the table,” I told Becky. The club was crowded and tables were at a premium. This wasn’t a biker bar and I wondered what Dutch and his friends were doing here. They didn’t fit in but they didn’t seem to care.

“OK, I’ll keep an eye on you to make sure Peter Fonda Jr. doesn’t attack you,” Becky said and I laughed but I think she was serious.

“He’s harmless,” I said but I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t think he was dangerous but I doubted he was harmless.

“Yeah, right,” Becky replied. I rolled my eyes at her and went to the bar picking my way through the dense crowd. I set the empty wine glasses on the bar and attempted to look needy. I’d have shown off my deep cleavage, but two of the bartenders were women and the third was likely gay. Too bad, even though I was big, guys seemed to forget about it when they saw my generous boobs. Suddenly, one of the bartenders set a glass of white wine in front of me without me having to ask. I wondered why she only brought one.

“From the gentleman over there,” she said and I turned in the direction she pointed expecting to see the biker that called himself Dutch, but he wasn’t there. I looked around and was startled to find Dutch standing right behind me. I wondered how he got past Becky but her attention was already somewhere else. Some bodyguard she was.

“You bought this?” I asked.

“I did,” Dutch told me.

“Well, thanks. I have to get back though,” I said hoping to avoid a long conversation, or rather avoid facing the way this guy made me feel.

“Looks like your friend is occupied. Why don’t you come over and sit with me?” Dutch said nodding towards Becky. Sure enough, two young guys in hoodies and skinny jeans were chatting her up. Great!

“Look, I appreciate the drink but I’m really not interested. Nothing personal, I’m just not into bikers,” I told Dutch hoping he’d get the message. On the other hand, maybe I was hoping I’d get the message. Either way, it didn’t work. Dutch put his hands on my broad hips and leaned close.

“Bullshit,” was all he said but he didn’t back away. I swallowed hard and I couldn’t hold his gaze. I looked away, but a finger slipped under my chin and he forced me to look him in the eyes. Damn, why did his eyes have to be so sexy?

“Look, what do you want?” I asked.

“I want you naked. I want your voluptuous body rippling with every thrust. I want to hear you cry out and call me daddy. I think you know what I want. More importantly, I think you want it too,” Dutch told me. He held my gaze and I couldn’t look away this time. A small battle raged in my head. Part of me was ready to submit to this biker and let him fuck me silly. However, another part was shocked and offended at his words. That part of me won the day.

I reached out and grabbed the glass of wine from the bar meaning to throw it in Dutch’s face but his hand seized mine and stopped me. The hand on my hips slipped lower and he grabbed my round ass as his tongue invaded my mouth. I struggled for a moment but as his tongue explored my mouth, I gave in. I let Dutch kiss me. The hand that held my wrist slid up my arm and cupped my breast. My God, was he going to take me right there?

“Hey, let go of her, you fucking dirt bag,” Becky shouted suddenly. Dutch let me go and laughed at Becky. Sure, now she shows up to rescue me.

“Go away, little girl,” Dutch told her. Becky kicked him in the shin with her pump, but he just chuckled at her.

“C’mon, Shauna. Let’s go,” Becky said and took my hand. She tugged me away from Dutch. I was surprised how badly I wanted to stay. Nevertheless, Becky’s intrusion allowed my reason and sanity to return and I willingly followed her. We walked towards the exit but just before we left, I couldn’t help but look back. Dutch watched us go. I had the feeling I hadn’t seen the last of the biker with the sexy blue eyes.

“I’m sorry. I should have kept an eye on you. That guy’s trouble,” Becky said as we got into her car.

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself. I was just about to knee him in the balls,” I lied. Honestly, I had no such thoughts. To my surprise, I enjoyed being ravished like that. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d never given a second thought to guys like Dutch, if that was his real name, which I doubted. Where I came from, guys on bikes dressed in leather with tattoos were either losers or middle-aged doctors and lawyers reliving their youth. In either case, I wasn’t interested.

However, Dutch was different somehow. Those blue eyes made my pussy wet and his strong, ink covered arms made me weak in the knees. He wasn’t some part-time, wannabe biker, but he wasn’t a dirt bag, as Becky put it, either. He was different and not at all what I expected. I could hardly keep myself from imagining him and I naked having wild sex. I didn’t know whether to thank Becky for rescuing me or tell her to mind her own business from now on.

“You want to sleep over? I know I’d want company if some guy practically raped me in public,” Becky asked. She was being slightly dramatic. It was only a kiss. A magnificent, passionate kiss that sent chills up my spine, but just a kiss. I suppose I should have been upset about the way Dutch treated me, but I wasn’t. I smiled at Becky.

“No, I’m fine. Really. Besides, I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow. Thanks,” I replied.

“You sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. In reality, I wasn’t fine. I was confused. Why was a guy like Dutch making me feel this way? Why was his forcefulness so exciting? I wasn’t supposed to like guys that treated women like that. Guys were supposed to respect me, defer to me and treat me like a princess. Nevertheless, there was no denying that I enjoyed the way Dutch took what he wanted and didn’t ask.

“OK, I’ll take you home. If you need anything, call me,” Becky said. A few minutes later, she dropped me off at my apartment. I needed to get Dutch out of my head. I left a trail of clothes from my front door to my bedroom and after grabbing my favorite vibrator, I climbed into bed and went to town. I didn’t even try to deny that I was attracted to Dutch. I hoped working through my unexpected feelings would make them go away.

I didn’t mess around. No romance, no soft foreplay. I was wet already and ready. I turned on the vibrator, slipped it in between my soft folds and let my mind imagine it was Dutch’s thick, hard cock. For the next half hour, I let the sexy biker have his way with me, but I refused to call him daddy in my fantasies as he suggested. That was too much. I came more times than I could count and when I finally imagined him coming all over my full breasts, I turned off my vibrator sure I’d gotten the biker with the sexy blue eyes out of my system.

I went to the bathroom to clean the toy. I looked at myself in the mirror and now another battle raged in my head. I’d been concentrating on why I was attracted to Dutch but as I stared at myself in the mirror, I wondered why he was attracted to me. I wasn’t huge, but I wasn’t skinny by any means. I wasn’t like Becky, thin and beautiful. I just couldn’t figure out why Dutch was after me instead of her.

I put my vibrator away at the bottom of my panties drawer and went to bed. I was tired, having worn myself out dreaming of Dutch. Instead of basking in the afterglow, I was feeling inadequate and ashamed. Whatever, it didn’t matter. I had a feeling that I might see Dutch again, but I probably wouldn’t. After he sobered up, he’d realize what I really looked like and move on, just as I was trying to do.

>>O<<

Sunday, I hardly thought of Dutch and I was sure my strategy had worked. I had indulged my baser instincts and now that those torrid fantasies had been satisfied, I’d quickly forgotten about him. I did my laundry, cleaned the apartment and caught up on episodes of General Hospital on my DVR. After I finished eating a Weight Watchers frozen entrée for dinner, I made ready to settle in and watch a movie when someone knocked at my door.

I almost didn’t answer it but then I thought it might be important, a dying neighbor or maybe Publisher’s Clearing House with my check. I made sure I didn’t look too much a wreck. My jeans and tank were presentable enough. I opened the door and there was Dutch. For a moment, I stood there speechless. He was the last person I expected to see.

“Evening, Shauna,” he said. His bandana was gone but otherwise he looked the same. His t-shirt was white today, but it still had a half-naked woman posing on a motorcycle on the front.

“What are you doing here?” I asked and I was suddenly wary.

“Your friend ruined a nice moment last night. I thought you might like to see how it ended,” Dutch said. How the hell did he find me? I told him my first name but that’s it. Did he follow us last night?

“How do you know where I live?” I asked. I should have shut the door in his face, maybe even called 911, but I didn’t. I wasn’t afraid and I didn’t know why. For all I knew, Dutch was a stalker or worse but that didn’t feel right. In any case, he was persistent.