“Shh,” I hiss to Maya, laughing. “We do have two very curious children and one noisy little dog.”
She shudders hard on top of me, her back bowing, her breasts dangling in my face. I help myself to one nipple as I work her hips harder, faster, then growl through my own orgasm.
Maya leans over me, panting. “Sorry. It’s been a long week at work, you’ve been gone, and I think we both needed to work off the stress.”
“Yes, we did.” I rub her back.
“I know it’s part of your job, and I know we’ve been through it a million times at this point,” she says after jetting off to the bathroom, letting Zelda in, and climbing into bed beside me. “But I really hate it when you leave.”
“I know, baby.” I slide my arms around her. “But, I have some news for you.”
She lifts her head. “What’s that?”
I smile. “This was my last deployment. I’m stateside for good from now on.”
Maya squeals and hugs me. I hug her back tight. Zelda, always needing attention and affection, gets in on the action too, licking my face wildly.
“Okay, okay.” I laugh, gently pulling Zee away from my face. She drapes herself over my chest, panting happily. “Yes. I’m tired of being away from you and the kids so often. Besides, I’m getting to be an old man now.”
She purses her lips. “You’re barely thirty-eight.”
“I know but I feel old.”
Maya chuckles. “Well. That actually coincides nicely with the news I wanted to tell you.”
“Which is?”
“It’s good you’re going to be around more,” she says slyly. “Because I’ll need your extra pair of hands.”
“For what?”
She reaches for my hand and places it on her soft belly. “For this.”
I bolt upright. Zelda growls at me. “Baby number three? For real? It finally happened? I’m getting my boy?”
Maya laughs, joyful tears leaking from her eyes. “Baby number three is for real and finally happening. Whether or not it’s a boy is impossible to know yet. I’m only seven weeks along.”
I embrace my wife, crushing her to me. She grips me back. “I don’t care if an alien comes out. I’m so happy, baby.”
“I love you, Cam,” she says squeezing me tight. “Forever and ever.”
I kiss her temple, her cheek, her forehead, her beautiful mouth. “And ever.”
The End
1
Joshua Hopper
I take a sip of my IPA and sigh happily. “It ain’t The Draught, but it’ll do.”
Alexander Knight, commander of Alpha Force Elite, grins at me over the rim of his own pint glass. “Some would say beer is beer, Hop.”
I nearly choke. “You bite your tongue and spit, sir! That’s blasphemy.”
“Whatever.” Nicholas Diego, the youngest member of AFE and our resident genius tech nerd, leans forward, reaching for the pitcher. “If it’s beer, I’m drinking it.”
“That’s why you can’t get a girlfriend,” I say matter-of-factly. “You have no taste.”
Diego flips me the bird. “Maybe I’m just waiting on the right one.”
“Aren’t we all,” Knight mutters.
Tonight, we’re not at our usual haunt, The Draught, a pub located close to Joint Base Andrews where our headquarters are. That might be why Knight is so moody—there’s something weird between him and the pub’s owner, Devin, but he’s never shared what it is, and I’ve never asked.
This place is more of a college-type bar, but Knight’s younger sister Casey just started working here after moving to the area from California, where she was trying to find work as a special-effects makeup artist. Apparently, the Hollywood life wasn’t for her, and she moved back to be close to family.
Now, Casey zooms over to us. We came early, but the place is starting to pick up now. “Guys need another pitcher?”
“Sure, sis,” Knight says.
“That’d be great,” I tell her, smiling.
Meanwhile, Diego is staring at her with a dopey smile on his face. I get it. Casey’s young and pretty, and seems just like Diego’s type, but he’d be a madman to pursue her. In fact, as I cut a glance over at Knight, he’s staring directly at Diego, who’s still gazing up at Casey as she reaches for our nearly empty pitcher.
Yikes. I carefully kick him under the table.
“Be right back,” Casey says brightly, totally unaware of the mini-war that just happened.
Diego flushes and sits back, sipping his beer.
Time to make things less weird. “So, how was it in the field?” I ask Knight.
He shifts his gaze to me and lifts a shoulder. “Same old. I travel to dangerous parts of the world and try to teach tradecraft and intelligence analysis to people who think they know better. Then I come home to my dog.”
“Better than no one, right?” I joke.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “How about you? Settling in all right? I know that last one was a doozy.”
He’s right about that. I traveled to Guyana to train their military on combative techniques. More and more terror cells are cropping all over the country, and it sucks to see so many good people suffering at their hands.
I nod. “Yeah. I’ve been home a month now—that’s about how long it takes me to decompress.”
Knight pats me on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work.”
I’m about to reply when movement across the bar catches my eye and I sit up straight
A gorgeous, curvy young woman bends over the pool table near the back, her long, wavy medium-brown hair falling over one golden-tan shoulder. I tilt my head to get a better view of her—she’s wearing watermelon-pink top with a low-cut neck and blue jeans she fills out like they were made specifically for her. Brown heeled sandals are strapped to her feet, and she moves around the table as easily as if she’s wearing running shoes.
She’s with a few other young ladies, all enjoying some cocktails and a game of pool, but the golden beauty is the one who seems to really know her way around some sticks and balls.
Sorry about that. One of my downfalls is being unable to resist a good dick joke.
“Who are you looking at?” Diego asks, craning his neck.
I smack him repeatedly on the arm until he gets the hint and slides out of the booth so I can get out. “Nunya.”
“What?”
“None of ya business!” I drain the last of my beer and set my glass down. “I just spotted my future wife. See you never.”
Knight chuckles. “Good luck, sailor.”
I snap a crisp salute and execute a perfect about-face, then forward march toward my objective. Before joining AFE, I was a sailor in the Navy, then became a SEAL and deployed more times than I can count until I got out a couple years ago. Still, you can take the boy out of the SEALs, but you can’t take the SEAL out of the boy.
The women are chatting among themselves, and abruptly stop talking as they notice me approaching. I offer them a smile, then shift my attention to the gorgeous girl, who’s playing against herself.