The gray light of early morning seeps in through the blinds.
Kelsey drapes her arm over my body, her leg thrown over my thigh. Her hair spreads across my shoulder and tickles my ear. I kiss the top of her head as I smooth the hair caught on my beard aside.
She doesn’t even so much as twitch. She must be exhausted.
My cock hardens again at the thought of the way she wrapped those long legs around my neck and her fingers ran through my hair as I sucked and slurped up every drop of her nectar.
The sweetest I’ve had.
I let my knuckles glide over the smooth skin of her upper arm. Everywhere I touch is soft, doubly so at her inner thighs and the lips of her pussy.
A woman like this could bring out the caveman in me. I couldn’t let her leave earlier. I wanted to drag her back to my bed and keep her here. I could kiss her mouth all day and lick her pussy all night.
I haven’t held a woman all night since before I left for a desert on the other side of the world. Have I been foolish to worry about my scars and imperfections? Maybe they aren’t that important.
Or maybe it’s just Kelsey.
Perhaps.
Because the girl who last said she loved me sure as fuck didn’t think she wanted to deal with what was left of me. She wasn’t interested in waiting for me to heal to see if everything worked. I guess Rachel loved my cock more than she loved me.
But that’s fine. I’m home. I’m healed. And even though I have this problem, no one can exactly say I’m not a man. Because I am. One hundred percent.
Kelsey’s dark lashes rest on her cheeks, and her breathing is slow and steady. She wasn’t issuing any complaints as she came apart under my mouth last night. And she did it so beautifully.
Condoms.
As soon as we’re up and moving, I’m heading to the drugstore. Because later I’m gonna wear out that pussy.
I ease out from under Kelsey and head to the shower.
I’m taking a hot shower this morning. If I walk around with a hard cock all day, I don’t give a shit.
Once out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and sneak to the kitchen to brew some coffee.
Damn. No creamer. Wonder how Kelsey takes her coffee?
I grab a t-shirt and some shorts from the dryer and slip out through the garage to make a quick trip to the local grocery. Four kinds of gourmet creamer and a large box of condoms later, I’m at the house again.
A bouncing Spike greets me at the door. He snuffles my cargo pockets.
As quietly as I can, I say, “Sorry, boy. I forgot to grab some new treats. You’ll have to settle for the ones you already have.”
I head to the kitchen to give him some biscuits. My phone beeps. I fumble to grab it from my pocket before it wakes Kelsey.
I whisper as I let Spike into the backyard. “Hello?”
“Hardick? How’s it hanging? I haven’t talked to you in a while. Thought I’d check in on you.”
I push through the screen door and grab it before it slams the frame behind me. “Romans, glad you called.”
“How’s life treating you?”
“I woke up on the right side of the dirt.”
“I hear you on that one, bro. So you still down in Texas turning houses or whatever?”
“Flipping. I’m flipping houses. Or I was supposed to be. I’m working on my first, and it’s a cluster of fucks in epic proportions.”
“But you’re breathing. And ambulatory. And your dick’s intact. Your dick is still intact, right?”
“And hard as my fucking head. How are you?”
“I’m good. Really good. I’m working. I’m being fitted for a new prosthetic next week. Life is—well, it’s not shitty right now.”
“Romans, you’re one positive mother-fucker. Especially for a guy who lost his leg.”
“Hey, not all of my leg. Only from the knee down. And you know what I say, IEDs will fuck a dude up, but they don’t have to fuck up a dude’s whole life.”
I smile. “Wisdom from the back streets of a small province.”
“Tell me about this gig you were talking about in your email. You’re gonna go on some speaking tour? You?”
“Yeah. I was talking to the shrink at the VA. She told me that after an injury like mine, that talking to other wounded vets might be good for me, and them too. She says it will help with the nightmares and the other shit we deal with.”
“I guess. It definitely helps me when I have a sit down with other amputees. It’s like we belong to this club and no one else really gets it unless they’ve been through it.”
For a second or two, we go quiet.
Then Romans coughs. “So, I need to live vicariously through my closest friend. You been getting any lately?”