Duty: A Secret Baby Romance (17 page)

“He can make it difficult for you,” Lindsey says. “What if he gives Captain Lemmon a call?”

“Pete?” I ask, smirking. “Knowing Pete, he'll nod and say uh-huh, then hang up and go play volleyball or something. Pete's a good guy, and if he's anything like he was as a Devil, he knows that sometimes, there are things bigger than the rules. I guess the question is, what do you want to do? I'm willing to take on the whole Army and tell them from the Joint Chiefs on down to go fuck themselves if they don't like it that we're together. But what do you want?”

Lindsey hums, then squeezes my hand. “You're an idiot, you know that?”

“I know.”

She lifts an eyebrow and gives me a sarcastic little twist to her smile, nodding. “Just as long as you know. I can't turn back the clock, and I don't want to. If the Army doesn't like that, we can deal with it. Oh, and as for the Army . . . congrats on your new rank, First Lieutenant Simpson.”

I smile, scooting just close enough that her knee touches mine, and we watch our son play in the grass. It's a good feeling, and I'm happy. We can't tell Lance just yet, but right now, it's good enough.

* * *

I
'm feeling
anger creep up as sweat drips down my neck—anger at Captain Bradley. Thursday may have been a fun afternoon, but since then, the CO has had me on every shit detail position that he can think of. Whether it's been Officer in Charge of the weekend work details, making sure that the weeds are pulled from between the bricks outside post headquarters by the troops who are under Article 15 punishment, or being in charge at the range for the reservists that can barely hit the broad side of a barn since they fire their rifles only a few dozen times a year. If it sucks, I've been 'volunteered' for it.

But today, today has to be the shittiest, literally, the shittiest work detail that he's assigned to me yet. It started when Toby Keith came to town over the weekend and did a charity concert for the troops on part of the airfield. Now, I'm not much of a country music fan, especially Toby Keith's over-the-top style, but I can appreciate a free concert as much as the next guy. I was on duty, of course, but now, two days after the concert, I get to be in charge of the cleanup detail, a bunch of trash but also the twenty Porta Potties that were arranged on the edge of the concert area. Twenty toilets for what one of the troops said had to be over five thousand people . . . that's a lot of piss and shit per potty.

It smells like it too, and I'm trying to not gag as I help the field sanitation engineers more or less vacuum the shit out of each stall. “Okay, sir, just clear the kink in the hose,” the engineer, who knows his truck and so gets to stay with the controls, says. “Unless you want a shit bomb to go off.”

“No thanks,” I grunt, tugging on the heavy nozzle and sticking it down the hole of the porta potty before walking out and making sure the hose isn't bent anywhere. Couldn't the Army have gotten a civilian company to do this? Nope, it's a training opportunity for the engineers, of course. “How's that?”

“Good, El Tee,” the engineer says, starting his truck. “Gimme ten minutes, and then we can move on to the next one.”

With ten minutes’ break, I walk off, if anything, to get away from the smell, although I've been working around it so much today that it permeates my clothes. I'm washing the fuck outta these ACUs when I get home, double detergent if I have to. At least out here, nobody cares if I wear just my t-shirt and a boonie hat to keep the sun out of my eyes. Full sleeves down and a beret would just be too fucking much.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out, smiling when I see it's from Lindsey.
On lunch. How's the crap detail?

Terrible. I've literally been up to my elbows in shit today. You should be glad that I'm too busy to see you today. You two couldn't stand the smell.

LOL. I bet a shower could help. Especially if I joined you?

Careful, I don't think I need to pop wood on duty. People might think I like working with porta potties.

LOL. Okay, sorry. Just . . .

Just what?

I feel flirty and youthful the past few days. I know they've sucked for you, but even just texting like this, I kinda feel like old times, u know?

I do. Hey, I gotta get back to sucking crap. Text you later. Love u.

Love u 2. Call if you get home before 10.

I smile and put the phone back in my pocket, feeling refreshed. To hell with Captain Bradley. If he wants to put me on details like this every day, then I'll gladly do them to be with Lindsey. “Ready, sir?” The engineer says.

“Twelve down, eight to go. Let's knock it out,” I tell him, tugging on the hose. Just breathe through my mouth, and I can convince myself that it's not all that bad. At least, a little bit. Two more days, and then a four-day training holiday. Even Captain Bradley can't fuck that one up. It came down from the 82nd's commanding general, and Bradley can't stop me from using those four days unless he's willing to start paperwork on me.

Two more days. Just two more days.

I
t's
a sweet little drive toward the coast, Lance giggling in the back seat from time to time as Aaron snores next to me in the shotgun seat of the car.

“How much longer, Mommy?”

“We just left, honey. We still have a while to get there.”

It's a drive to the coast, but in exchanging texts and short phone calls with Aaron all week, we agreed that it was the best idea to stay away from the more popular places like Wilmington or some of the more famous barrier islands. Wilmington is the sort of town that attracts not only soldiers from Fort Bragg, but also lots of Marines from Camp Lejeune, who come to the 'big city' to party during long weekends. We don't need to run the risk. Murphy's Law seems to have bitten us in the ass once already.

Aaron tried to keep up a conversation on the way over, but the week plus of exhaustion caught up with him about five miles outside of Fayetteville, and he's been snoring at various volumes ever since. By my phone's GPS, we're about fifteen miles from Oak Island, so he's been down a while.

“Aaron? Hey, Aaron!” I say, shaking his knee. “You doing okay?”

He hums and smacks his lips, almost exactly like Lance does when he's waking up, but he opens his eyes, looking at me sleepily before smiling. “Yeah . . . that was a nice nap. Thank you.”

“You snore loud,” Lance says, and Aaron chuckles.

“Yeah, my old roommate at West Point said the same thing. Sorry.”

“You weren't too bad, and you slept right through the music, so I'd say you were fine,” I reassure him. “Next time, I'll just crank up the Skrillex a little louder.”

Aaron groans, and I can't keep up the deception. I laugh. He realizes I'm joking and gives me a little heart-stopping grin that makes me turn my attention back toward the road, or else we're going to crash. Aaron yawns and stretches as best he can, then turns his attention back to Lance. “So buddy, are you ready to hit the beach?”

“Uh huh. Can we build a sandcastle?” Lance asks, and I know why. In Washington, the sand at the beaches was normally too gritty to make them, and Lance wants to build one like in one of his picture books.

“You know what? Today, we’ll try to build one. Did you pack a shovel?”

Lance shakes his head sadly, looking down. “I don't have one.”

“Then we'll just have to stop before we get to the hotel and get us a set.”

We chat for the next forty-five minutes while we make our way to the hotel, including a stop for beach toys. The hotel is a block from the beach, and to keep up appearances, we did rent two rooms, side by side. I'm hoping that once we tell Lance, Aaron and I will have a little bit of privacy at some point, but who knows?

We get checked in quickly, hurrying up to our side by side rooms to change in a rush, the scent of the ocean putting an extra bounce in our step. I barely take a moment to look around the room other than noting that the king-sized bed looks luxurious while I hurry to change. Lance takes a total of thirty seconds to yank his pants off and pull on his little trunks before he's hopping from side to side, anxious.

I take out my swimsuit, which I just bought two days ago at the PX. It's not the sexiest thing out there, a simple white top and slightly conservative boy short style bottoms, but I hope Aaron likes it. I tie the wrap I bought, a multi-tone blue thing, around my waist and pull on a sleeveless t-shirt, hoping to surprise Aaron a little bit on the beach.

I put my sunglasses up on my forehead and grab my backpack, heading out with a still hopping Lance to see Aaron waiting for us outside his room, leaning against the wall with his own little backpack and t-shirt, already changed into his trunks. “Ready?”

“Love the t-shirt,” I tease, noticing that it has Bugs Bunny on the front. “Where'd you get it?”

“I wanted something as far from the military as I could find, so I bought it on leave one time at USMA. Come on, I've got the beach tools all ready. You ready, Lance?”

“Uh-huh!” Lance grins.

Lance takes our hands and we walk the one block to the beach, and I'm happy to see that the sand is nearly sugar white, even if the waves are smaller than on the West Coast. Lance looks happy though. He's not ready to do more than splash in the water, so the calm Atlantic is actually more inviting to him.

“Can I?” he asks.

I look at Aaron, who looks at me intently. He knows what's coming. “Just a moment, honey. Have a seat with Aaron and me, right here, please. I have something I want to tell you.”

Lance stops and sits down, curious as I look at Aaron, who nods in support. This is something that I have to do myself first. “Lance, you've never known your Daddy. We've never talked about it.”

Little man nods his head. Aaron swallows, and I know what he's thinking, but his eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, and he takes a deep breath. I shake my head, looking at Lance. “Lance, I never told you, and your birth certificate doesn't list it because . . . well, when Mommy and Daddy were together, we weren't supposed to be. There were rules, rules put in place by the Army that said that we couldn't be together.”

“You broke the rules?” Lance asks, surprised and a little confused. “You said I'm not supposed to.”

“Sometimes, there are rules that are good, and sometimes, there are things more important than the rules,” Aaron says softly. “And this was one of those times.”

Lance looks confused, and I take his hands. “I'm sorry, buddy. But . . . Lance, Aaron is your Daddy.”

He looks at Aaron, who nods. “Your mom and I were together back when I was a cadet. The rules say that we can't be together. Even now. So, I was like you. I didn't know either. But . . . but we talked, and we decided that we can't let that rule stay between us anymore. I love you, Lance. I love your mom. And I want us to be a family.”

Lance looks at both of us, and I squeeze his hands. “Lance? Honey?”

Lance pulls back and storms off. I start to get up to go after him, but Aaron puts his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “Wait. He probably doesn't know how to react.”

I sink back onto the sand, not letting Lance out of my sight. He plays with the water a little, then comes back. “You lied, Mommy!”

I stop and blink back tears of shame at the disappointment in his face. “I . . . I know, honey. I'm sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, protecting you and protecting Aaron. I'm sorry.”

Aaron looks at him and speaks up. “Lance, the problem is, the rules still say that I can't be with you and your mom. They say that since I'm a Lieutenant, and she's a Sergeant, I can't love you two. Now you see why I said sometimes there are rules that I don't agree with? And why we still have to keep this a secret?”

Lance nods, and even though he’s smart as a whip, he definitely doesn’t understand the seriousness of it all.

I take Aaron's hand. “So what do you think, buddy?”

Lance holds his arms up, and I hug him. Aaron joins in, and I feel totally, wonderfully happy, kissing Lance and then Aaron.

* * *

L
ance goes down after dinner
, hugging to his chin Aaron's t-shirt, a smile on his face. Today's been a dream. “You know, the first thing I noticed when he was born was that he's got your eyes,” I tell Aaron, smiling. “It comforted me during those days when I thought I'd never see you again.”

“I'm glad he's got your hair,” Aaron replies, drawing out a lock. “And I'm glad you let him grow it out. I'm getting tired of keeping mine short.”

“I've noticed you've let it grow a little since we started seeing each other again,” I say, lifting my hand up and stroking his hair. It's still short, but nowhere near the prickly shaved sides a lot of Airborne wear. “You did the same when we were at USMA.”

“It reminds me that I’m a man, and not just a soldier,” Aaron whispers, looking at me.

I can see it in his eyes, and I nod. He takes my hand, leading me through the joined doors of our rooms to what is officially his. I close the door slightly behind me, but I don't lock it. Just in case. “We'll have to keep it down.”

“Then join me in the shower,” Aaron says with a quiet intensity, pulling me toward the bathroom. “The water will hide the noise a bit.”

I follow him, grinning when he turns and looks at me with a naughty hunger in his eyes. “You were so hot in that swimsuit.”

“Why do you think I bought it?” I tease him, unsnapping the shorts I'd changed into for dinner. “I was hoping to see you adjusting your trunks all afternoon.”

“Oh, you had me doing that for sure,” he says, unsnapping his jeans and pushing them down, his cock bobbing as he frees it. He's already half-hard, and I feel warm tingles between my legs looking at him as he pulls his shirt off. Reading the desire in my eyes, he pulls me close and kisses me, his hands pushing my shorts off. I moan into his mouth, and he pulls me tighter, his fingers sliding inside my panties to squeeze my ass.

Aaron lets me go and steps into the shower stall, one of the most luxurious parts of the whole room. It's big and glass-walled, with twin shower heads that you can adjust, and Aaron turns on the water, washing himself while the steam starts to obscure the walls. “You joining me?”

His question breaks my paralysis, and I quickly pull my clothes off and step inside, sighing happily as the warm water runs over my skin. The afternoon was warm enough, but once the sun went down, it got a little chilly, and winter is coming soon enough. Aaron's glistening, the water running over his chiseled body, and I feel my desire increase as I see his cock rise up to full hardness as he looks at me.

“You know, no man has ever made me feel sexy, desired, and respected the way you do,” I tell him, taking his cock in my hand and kissing him. I pump his shaft slowly, until he takes my wrist in his grip, stopping me. “What?”

“I want to wash you first,” he says, smiling.

I nod and step back, reluctantly letting go. Aaron takes the soap from the dish and rubs it between his hands, then he sets it aside and starts with my forearms. In long, sweeping strokes, he rubs the suds over my skin, working up my arms to my shoulders and then down my back, massaging with his thumbs as his fingers work their magic. I relax into the feeling, luxuriating in the pampering. I push back into his hands slightly when he reaches my waist, but then he stops, chuckling. “Not yet.”

He kneels on the granite floor of the stall, taking the soap again and washing my legs, rubbing my calves and up the inside, my anticipation building as he brings his soapy hands closer and closer to my pussy, cleaning my thighs. I'm trembling and gasping, and I put my hands on his head, urging him. “Please . . .”

Aaron hums and sets the soap aside, rinsing me and his hands before running his fingers up my hamstrings and grabbing my ass, pulling me to his mouth. His tongue parts the wet lips of my pussy easily, trembles of ecstasy erupting deep inside me as he licks me all the way up to my clit before flicking his tongue over the tip, fireworks of pleasure exploding behind my eyeballs with every sweep. “Aaron.”

He stays on his knees, supporting me with his strong hands as I lean against the glass wall of the stall, unable to fully stand as his tongue licks and nibbles on my pussy, teasing my clit over and over with quick little caresses that threaten to make me collapse. It feels so good.

“Yes, oh God, yes,” I moan, pulling his head tighter against my pussy as he licks harder and faster. I thought at first he wanted to just tease me, but he's showing no mercy, his tongue swallowing me whole. His hands and fingers squeeze my ass, and when I feel his index finger press against my asshole, I moan deeply. How does he know? In my darkest, deepest fantasies, I've wanted him there, and as his finger slips inside, I groan, hungry for more.

Aaron hums, licking my pussy while his finger slides deeper inside, wiggling and loosening me until I'm trembling, so close to coming I can barely see. “Please.” I'm begging, wanting that last taste. “Please.”

His tongue flicks on my clit one more time, and I come, my ass tightening on his finger as I suck him deeper inside, needing him to complete me. I groan and hold his head close while I ride out my orgasm, my legs trembling as he supports me the whole time, sucking the warm, steamy air into my lungs and letting it out as sounds of pure pleasure.

When it finishes, I sigh happily, looking down on him. “That was a first.”

“How was it?” Aaron asks, looking up at me. His finger is still inside, and I squat down a little, grinning.

“I've always wondered what it’d be like for you to fuck my ass,” I tease, willing him in deeper. “Think you can go to the final frontier?”

“If we wash afterward,” Aaron says, grinning. “I never tried before because I didn't want to scare you.”

“Honey, you never scare me,” I growl, standing up. Aaron's finger slips free, and I turn around, sticking my ass out at him. “Just go slow. It’s my first time. Do we have any lubricant?”

Aaron nods, and we shut off the water, drying quickly before I saunter across the room toward the bed, wiggling my ass from side to side as I feel his eyes locked on my body, making me feel powerful and desired. I reach the bed and lie down, spreading my legs and beckoning. “Don’t make me wait.”