Pretend You're Mine: A Small Town Love Story (26 page)

“Show me again,” Luke ordered.

“Show you what?”

“Your perfect tits.”

She wondered if she’d ever stop blushing when he talked to her like that. “You’re sure you’re alone?”

“The WIFI signal is strong enough to work in quarters tonight. I’m all alone, baby. Show me.”

His voice sounded like gravel but still felt like satin on her skin. Harper bit her lip and pulled her tank top up and over her head, baring her breasts to the screen. “Are we going to —”

“Quiet,” he ordered. “I want you to do exactly what I tell you.”

Harper nodded breathlessly. Even from thousands of miles away, he could make her wet enough to soak through her underwear. She angled the phone so he could see more of her.

“Good girl. Now take your shorts off.”

She leaned her phone against one of the couch pillows and stood, shimmying out of her shorts.

“Fuck, baby,” Luke sighed, his gaze glued to the screen. Harper ran a finger over the edge of her light blue cotton of her briefs.

“Get on your hands and knees on the couch. Face me.”

She slid back onto the cushion bracing her weight on her hands. Her breasts hung down, and she ached for his mouth on her sensitive peaks.

“Luke, I want to see you.” It was a whisper but it carried across the miles.

He paused for just a moment and then Harper heard the rip of Velcro. A second later, Luke pulled off his shirt and angled the screen down and she could see what she had been missing for weeks.

Even gripped in Luke’s big fist, his cock looked huge. Harper felt the ache deep inside her core start to pulse with need. She wanted to feel his erection drive into her, stretching her walls as it invaded her.

“I’d give anything to be inside you right now, Harper.” He stroked his hand down his hard-on. “I want you to touch yourself.”

She hesitated.

“Go ahead, baby. Pretend it’s my hands on you.”

She took a shaky breath and brought her palm to her breast where it hung. The growl from her phone told her Luke liked what he saw. She took her nipple between her thumb and finger and tugged it down in a leisurely pace that matched Luke’s strokes.

“Baby —” The audio crackled and went silent, but the video feed remained.

Harper pointed to her ear. “I can’t hear you. Can you hear me?”

Luke pointed at his ear and shook his head. But his other hand stayed gripping his erection. Understanding, Harper slid her hand back down to her breast. She rolled and tugged the nipple, pretending it was Luke’s mouth teasing her.

She saw him increase the pace ever so slightly, wondering if there was a drop of moisture that so often appeared from the slit in the broad head of his penis. She licked her lips and slid her hand lower into her underwear.

She should have been feeling embarrassed. She wasn’t an exhibitionist. But right then, all she wanted to do was see Luke stroke himself to climax across his chiseled abs and chest.

Her lips parted as her fingers found the slick wetness between her folds. Her bud was already straining for contact. Harper shifted her weight back and brought her free hand to her other breast. She squeezed and saw Luke’s eyes narrow. His fist slammed down the length of his cock as he pumped himself in his own hand. Harper’s fingers circled her clitoris in a frantic pace, a race to the finish.

She felt the need for release blossom inside her. It bloomed as she drove her fingers into her wet channel. She opened her mouth to say his name and saw he was with her. The first rope of cum unleashed across his stomach. It was her name on his lips as a second and a third exploded from him.

She felt herself close around her fingers as they came together.

A
ldo Moretta was coming home.

After four long weeks in hospitals and clinics, he — and his fancy new prosthetic leg — were coming home to Benevolence.

Per his physical therapy team, he was going to stay with his mother for a few weeks before they released him into the wild.

Harper waited an entire day and a half before she went knocking on Mrs. Moretta’s front door on her lunch hour. Seeing Aldo in the flesh would put to rest nightmares that had plagued her for the last month. She shifted the bag of goodies into her other hand and knocked on the screen door.

It was drowned out by shouting.

“For the love of God, Ma. I’ve spent the last two weeks with you. You’re driving me fucking nuts.”

“That’s a fine way to talk to the woman who dropped everything to nurse you back to health because you couldn’t swerve around a bomb,” Ina Moretta shouted back.

“You played Candy Crush and yelled at me if I didn’t turn on ‘The Price is Right’ everyday,” Aldo roared.

“You aren’t driving yourself to PT. I don’t care how big and tough you think you are. So you’re welcome to walk. Go ahead and hitchhike. See if I care. I didn’t raise you to be a grown man who shouts at his own mother.”

“That is exactly who you raised me to be!”

Harper gave up on knocking and stepped inside. She dumped the bag on the floor and cupped her hands over her mouth. “Hey!”

Aldo crutched into the foyer from the living room, and Mrs. Moretta poked her head out of the kitchen.

“Come right on in, bursting into my house like that. Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” Mrs. Moretta yelled.

“They must have died too soon, I guess,” Harper said in a decibel or two above her usual conversational tone. The shouting was contagious.

Aldo blindsided her with a bear hug, dropping his crutches to the floor. Harper grabbed him and held on for dear life. He was home safe and yelling at his mother. It was another step in the direction of normal.

“Pick up your goddamn crutches! You know the doctors don’t want you walking unassisted yet!” Mrs. Moretta continued on in some colorful Italian.

“I’m glad you’re home. And alive,” Harper said, her face smashed in Aldo’s barrel of a chest.

“I will marry you and have your babies if you get me the hell out of this house. I have a PT appointment in thirty,” he said, stepping back. Harper looked him up and down. He was dressed in gym shorts and a t-shirt. His gleaming new prosthetic left leg began a few inches below the knee and ended in a sneaker.

“Luke might have a problem with the first, but I’d pay money to see the second, so it’s a deal. Besides, I want to see what you can do with that hardware.”

“I can do anything. They just won’t fucking let me,” Aldo muttered.

“If you don’t do what the doctors tell you, you’ll end up screwing up your stump or breaking that thing,” his mother warned pointing at his prosthetic.

Harper saw red in Aldo’s eye and decided to force a truce.

“Mrs. Moretta, I’m going to take Aldo to his appointment today. Is there anything you need while we’re out?”

Mrs. Moretta grumbled for a moment. “Well, I supposed I could use another box of Chardonnay.”

At the car, Aldo tossed his crutches in the back seat and lowered himself into the passenger seat. He dropped his head back against the headrest and sighed. “I love that woman, but I swear to God, one of these days one of us is going to murder the other.”

Harper snickered and shifted into reverse. “That was World War III in there.”

“That’s what happens when you spend two fucking weeks straight with Ina Moretta. I think it was her goal to drive me crazy.”

“I hear that’s what moms are for,” Harper said, backing down the driveway into the street. “Where are we going?”

Aldo directed her out of town to the north.

“By the way, there’s a bag of goodies in the back for you,” she told him.

Aldo swiveled in his seat and grabbed at the gift bag. “Where’s the candy?” he demanded.

“It’s in the bottom. I consulted with Luke on this so a lot of it you can thank him for.”

He pulled out a clear package. “New ear buds and an MP3 player?”

“It’s full of get-pumped play lists for therapy, and you can also use it to drown out your mom.”

“Ear plugs,” he said pulling out the tiny plastic egg.

“Luke said your mom snores.”

“Like a fucking company of lumberjacks at a chainsaw convention. What’s this? A bracelet?”

“Yeah, I thought you could start accessorizing,” Harper teased. “No, it’s one of those step counter heart-rate monitors. It’s what normal people who don’t run half marathons on the weekends use to measure their fitness. And since, for the next week or two, you probably won’t be hitting a 10K, I thought you could use it with your physical therapy. It’ll sync with your phone, too.”

“This is cool, Harpoon. Thanks.”

He seemed tired, flat. But he was home.

“Seriously? You’re gonna go with Harpoon?”

“We’ll see where the day takes us.” Aldo unwrapped a mini chocolate bar and popped it in his mouth.

***

T
he clinic was a twenty-minute drive north of town. Aldo ate candy and stared pensively out the window while Harper called Beth at the office to let her know she’d be back later that afternoon.

“Beth wants me to hug you for her,” Harper said, hanging up.

“I have a feeling I’ll be getting a lot of that.” Aldo didn’t seem thrilled with the idea.

“I know there’s a certain beautiful brunette who’d be willing to get in line to hug you.”

Aldo grunted.

“Have you talked to Gloria?”

“No.”

“Care to expand on that? I feel like I’m talking to Luke here,” Harper sighed.

“Turn here,” Aldo said, pointing at a white stone building on the right.

Harper pulled into the parking lot, and eased up to the front of the two-story glass entrance.

“I’ll grab your crutches,” she told Aldo, pulling the parking break.

“I’ll walk from the parking space,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harper shrugged. “Fine.”

Two could play the smart-ass game. She pulled into the very last space at the far end of the lot and turned the car off. She worked the crutches free from the back seat and waited until Aldo pulled himself to a standing position.

“Get your ass in there.” She handed him the crutches.

She saw the tic in his jaw and waited.

“You can come in if you want,” he said finally before stepping around her and starting toward the front entrance.

Harper grabbed her bag out of the back seat and followed him.

His face didn’t show any exertion when they reached the reception area, but there were little beads gathering on his face and neck. His knuckles were white on the padded handgrips.

Angry and pushing himself too hard. Well, he was Mrs. Moretta’s son. It was to be expected.

They waited in silence for a few minutes until a nurse in cheery flowered scrubs called them back.

“Lieutenant Moretta, welcome to PT,” she smiled at him. “I’m Annalise.” She extended her hand to him. After shuffling crutches, Aldo shook it.

“Aldo.”

Annalise turned her attention to Harper.

“I’m Harper,” she said, taking the offered hand.

“Thanks for coming,” Annalise said, leading the way through tables and cardio machines. “It’s important for family to be involved in recovery.”

“We’re just friends,” Aldo mumbled.

“Well, it always helps to have another pair of eyes and hands,” Annalise said, unphased. She pointed to a pair of chairs next to a set of parallel bars. “Let me get these set to your height and the doctor will be here shortly.”

Aldo glared at the bars while Harper tried not to think of the friendly, funny man who left Benevolence not so long ago.

“Lieutenant.” A slim man in a white coat and glasses approached. “I’m Dr. Steers. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Aldo shook his hand, but said nothing.

“Harper,” she introduced herself.

“Great to meet you Harper. Let’s get started, shall we? Lieutenant, Walter Reed gave me your file and you already have our staff impressed. To be where you are right now, barely a month from the injury, is almost superhuman.”

Harper saw the corner of Aldo’s mouth lift. So he was still in there somewhere.

“He is pretty awesome, isn’t he?” she grinned.

Dr. Steers flashed her a grin. “We can understand the lieutenant’s frustration with the pace of therapy, and we’ll do our best to write a program that challenges him at his level. We just need to make sure we’re not asking too much of your body while you’re still so early in the recovery process. Okay?”

Aldo nodded.

“So let’s get you up. You know the drill.” The doctor pointed to the bars.

Aldo stood and handed Annalise his crutches. He gripped the bars and walked, one foot in front of the other, toward Dr. Steers who paced him backward on a wheeled stool.

“Looks good,” the doctor said, making notes. “Go ahead and go back to the top.”

They had Aldo walk, holding the bars several more times, pausing briefly to make slight adjustments to the prosthesis.

“Lieutenant, let’s try it without the bars.”

Aldo dropped his hands to his sides and sauntered toward Annalise. “That’s perfect,” Dr. Steers said. “Your gait looks great.”

Again, they put Aldo through his paces this time without walking aids.

His impassive face gave no hint of exertion, but his t-shirt was soaked with sweat.

“Let’s take a quick water break and then we’ll move on to some of the balance exercises,” Dr. Steers suggested.

Aldo shrugged, but dropped into the chair next to Harper.

“Harper, there’s some bottles of water in the cooler on the far wall. Do you want to grab a couple for you two?”

“Sure.” Happy to be able to do something, Harper hurried to the refrigerator and grabbed two bottles.

“Here,” she said, holding one out for Aldo.

“Thanks,” he said, twisting the top and downing half of it.

She resisted the urge to rub his shoulder.

“I know the energy expenditure is frustrating. Typically, mobility with a below knee amputation consumes up to forty percent more energy than what you’re used to. That’s why you feel like you just finished a marathon. It might only seem like a few steps to you, but to your body, it feels like almost double that.”

“I’m fine. I can do more,” Aldo shrugged.