Soldier Come Home
by Myla Jackson
Myla Jackson
Copyright © Myla Jackson 2010
Published by Myla Jackson at Smashwords
Copyright © 2011, Myla Jackson. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Cover artist: Myla Jackson
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
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Soldier Come Home
by Myla Jackson
THE MAILMAN DROVE by without stopping for the fifth time that week. I stood on the front porch, fighting back tears. I'd checked my phone, email and internet accounts earlier. Other than a recipe from a friend, nothing interested me. I hadn't heard from Jimmy in a month. He'd been in Afghanistan now for over a year. He hadn't gotten orders yet to return stateside, but he'd hinted that it was only a matter of time. Happy knowing there was an end in sight to the long separation, we'd made plans, talked about our home, our future and maybe even a baby or two.
Then he'd gone silent on me. The occasional webcam visit ended. The last email I'd received from his was short to the point of cryptic. "Going no-mail. On maneuvers. Love ya, Jimmy."
I stared at the back of the postman's jeep, wanting to run after him and beg him for a letter, anything to let me know Jimmy was all right.
A breeze swept across the wide front porch, stirring the swing built for two. I smiled, a lump forming in my throat. It had been our first big purchase after we'd signed the papers on our home. Before we had a couch, before we had a washer for our clothes, we'd found a maple swing, perfect for warm summer evenings on our very own porch. I'd helped him hang it, standing on a stepladder, sliding the chain over the hooks. When we'd set both chains in place, Jimmy had grabbed me around the middle and swung me up in his arms.
Laughing we sat on the swing, me in Jimmy's lap, snuggling and kissing enough to make the old couple next door call out, "Get a room!" For a long time we swayed back and forth, talking about nothing, watching the sun settle over the tops of the trees.
As night crept in, our hunger for each other grew. Married over two years, we still acted like newlyweds. His hand slid under my blouse, mine flipped the rivet on his jeans, sliding down to touch his hot, stiff erection.
Our passion flared and we leaped up from the swing, moving the party inside, stripping as we went, clothes flying across the hardwood floors. Jimmy almost tripped hopping out of his pants. We'd landed hard, laughing and giggling on the mattress, lying on the floor of the master bedroom, our favorite hand-me-down from his parents' house.
My body flushed with heat and I closed my eyes to the blinding summer sun, recalling that first night in our new home. The room had been dark then, only the light from the hallway shone across the bedroom floor, Jimmy stared down at me, a sweet smile lifting the corners of his lips.
"You're beautiful." His words were spoken in a soft, husky voice, the kind that made my insides melt. The look in his deep brown eyes still made my heart skip a beat, even with him a million miles away.
I'd felt like the luckiest woman in the world—lucky to have found him, lucky he'd chosen me to be his wife.
He'd kissed me, his lips gentle at first, then more urgent, his tongue pushing deep into my mouth, toying with mine, the thrust and parry of one tongue to another a prelude to the mind-blowing sex to follow.
He'd taken his time, trailing his fingers and lips across my cheek, down the side of my neck, lower still to where my breasts peaked eagerly, forming tight little buds, anxiously awaiting his attention. Heat exploded deep inside me, pooling low at the juncture of my thighs. I'd wanted him, more than I'd wanted anyone in my entire life.
A horn honked, yanking me back to the present. I blinked, wondering just how long I'd been standing on the porch daydreaming about my sex-life with Jimmy, wishing he was there. He was the only man who could satisfy my hunger, assuage the deep ache in my core and in my heart.
Knowing how much I enjoyed making love with him, Jimmy had given me several battery-powered toys before he'd shipped out. "Think of me when you use them."
On one or two of my online webcam sessions with him, I'd been using one of them, imagining him there. He'd been so turned on, he'd had to hit the shower tent twice to calm down.
I smiled.
Jimmy had frowned and scolded me the next time he'd come online, but I knew he'd loved it just as much as I had. I also knew toys weren't what I really wanted. I wanted Jimmy. Home. Safe. Naked and in bed with me.
I left the warmth and memories of the porch and went inside, stripped out of my jeans and T-shirt and pulled my nightgown over my head. The gown was Jimmy's favorite. I wore it when I was missing him most.
I didn't bother making dinner. I wasn't hungry and what was the use? Jimmy wasn't there. It was just me. With a glass of our favorite wine in one hand, I switched on the stereo and flipped through the stack of CD's. Not until my hand stopped did I realize what I'd been searching for. The song that had been playing that night we'd hung the swing. We'd dubbed it our song. It wasn't the most beautiful song ever written, but it spoke of home and love, sounds and images of the things we hold most dear. To Jimmy and I, it was perfect. Every time I heard the lyrics, my mind drifted back to that day. One of the happiest days of my life.
I sat on the old rocking chair Jimmy's grandmother had given us before she'd passed on. After four months of weekends sanding, painting and reupholstering, it gleamed like new. I'd planned to surprise him when he got home. Whenever that might be.
Jimmy had loved his grandmother, the chair represented more than a piece of furniture. It symbolized the connection and love Jimmy felt for his family, both past, present and future.
As I rocked, I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, and I fought back the tears. I wanted my husband home so badly, I imagined I heard the screen door creak, the sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor.
I drew in a deep breath, the scent of outdoors and sunshine filling my senses just as it had whenever Jimmy came home from training. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I prayed for my husband's safe return.
"Are those for me?"
I must have fallen to sleep, because a low, rumbling voice invaded my dream, one that elicited all the joy and love in my heart.
Afraid to open my eyes, I whispered, "Jimmy?"
"Yeah, baby, I'm here." A warm chuckle filled the room. "You're playing our song."
"I missed you," I said, squeezing my eyelids tightly together. I didn't want this dream to end. Didn't want Jimmy to disappear when I awoke.
"Come on, sweetheart, I've waited more than a month of Sundays to see your baby blues." Work-roughened hands slid down my arms.
I moaned. "I don't want to wake up. I want to stay with you."
He chuckled again. "Oh, baby. I've dreamed of this day so long, please." He pulled me up and into his arms.
"If I'm dreaming, don't wake me. If I'm awake..." A sob caught in my throat and I dared to open my eyes.
Laughing brown eyes smiled down at me.
"Jimmy!" All the loneliness, sorrow and worry of the past year melted away, replaced by the joy of holding my husband once again. I flung my arms around his neck, tears streaming down my face.
"Sweetheart, I can't breathe." He loosened my arms clinging to his neck and took my hand in his. Still wearing combat boots and his camouflage uniform, his hair trimmed high and tight around his ears, he was the most beautiful man in the world. My Jimmy.
He pulled me close, swaying gently to the music as he bent to kiss me, the lyrics of our song weaving the same spell it had the first time we'd danced to the tune. "God, I missed you," he breathed into my hair.
Jimmy was home, in my arms and safe.
I took his hand and led him to the bedroom. Beginning one button at a time, I removed his jacket. I pushed him backward until the backs of his knees bumped against the bed, and he sat. With a smile I couldn't wipe from my face, I dropped to my knees him, unlacing his boots, pulling them from his feet.
Before I could take off his pants, he pulled me up into his arms and flipped me onto my back in the bed. "I can't wait that long for this." His lips descended on mine, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. A rough hand slid beneath my nightgown, cupping my ass, squeezing gently.
"Love me, Jimmy. Come inside me. Prove I'm not dreaming." I spread my knees wide.
Jimmy stood, pulled my panties down my legs, his fingers trailing along the insides of my thighs.
Raging heat rushed across my body, creamy juices washing from my core. I wanted him to come to me, to thrust deep inside me.
Jimmy jerked the buttons loose on his uniform pants, ripped them down over his legs and flung them to the corner.
For a moment he stood staring down at me in the shadows of the room, his body more muscular, lean and magnificent.
I reached out for him, pulling him down to me.
He climbed into the bed, slowing working his way up between my legs, his hands and mouth leaving a fiery trail of kisses and playful nips along the tender skin of my inner thigh.
I writhed against the sheets, my head thrown back, my body on fire, with no way to extinguish the flame.
His tongue swirled around my entrance, lapping at the juices easing out onto the sheets. "You taste like heaven." Then he thrust that tongue inside, his hands lifting my bottom, kneading the flesh of my buttocks.
I laced my fingers in his hair, my back arching off the bed.
When his fingers parted my folds, his tongue shifted to claim that swollen little nubbin of my desire, lighting a barrage of fireworks that rocketed through my senses. I could swear I'd shot into orbit, crying out as my muscles tensed, pulsed and rocked with each spasm.
Before I came all the way back to earth, Jimmy slid up between my legs and slipped inside me, filling me with his hot, thick shaft.
More tears spilled from my eyes, as he thrust in and out, whispering words of love and forever. My heart filled with so much happiness, my life could not be more perfect.
Jimmy had come home.
THE END
About the Author
Twenty years of livin’ and lovin’ on a South Texas ranch raising horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all genres including historical westerns, medieval tales, romantic suspense, contemporary romance and paranormal beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. or spending time with her family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of 20+ years and her muses—the human-wanna-be canines—Chewy and Sweetpea.
To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com. Send an email to mylajackson@earthlink.net or join her Yahoo! group to enter in the fun with other readers as well as Myla:MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com
Other Titles by Myla Jackson
That Voodoo You Do (Alluring Tales: Night Moves)
Night of the Jaguar
Dirty Tricks: One Up On You
Dirty Tricks: Two Can Play That Game
Dirty Tricks: Three's A Charm
Dirty Tricks: Four Play
Dirty Tricks: Five Second Seduction
Sex Ed
Honor Bound
Duty Bound
River Bound
Body Snatchers
Naked Prey
Cat Scratch Fever
Sex, Lies & Vampire Hunters
Boots and Chaps
Excerpt from
Sex Ed
by Myla Jackson
Chapter One
Edward Judson slapped his dusty cowboy hat against his leg as he led his black gelding into the barn. The sun baked the weathered boards of the exterior, while the interior remained relatively cool. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the shadows. "I traded that stock yesterday, made enough to pay off my land and put a hefty chunk of cash down on a house."
"Good move." Grant Fowler slung a leg over the pinto mare and dropped to the ground.
Ed owed Grant a lot for teaching him everything he knew about trading shares on the stock market. The man owned a 5,000-acre ranch for a reason. Not because he was good at raising horses, but because he was damned good at managing money.
"You don’t need my advice anymore, Ed," Grant said. "You could go into financial planning yourself with a few courses for certification."
"Not interested." Ed had just begun to understand the stock market's full potential and seeing the fruits of his trades pay off. But he didn't need a lot of money, just enough for his own purposes.
"You gonna work training horses for other people like me the rest of your life?"
"Nope." Ed grinned. "Not that I don’t appreciate the work and all, but I got plans of my own."
"Whatcha gonna do with two hundred acres, Ed?"
"Get married someday, settle down, raise a family and some horses. It’s what I’m good at." He shifted his boots in the loose dirt of the barn floor. "The horses part."
"You’re good at day-trading, dude."
"I’ll do that on the side so that I can afford my horses too."
Grant shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "Okay, I get it. Can’t say that I blame you. At least when you’re trading for yourself, you don’t have the responsibility of other people’s money hanging over you."
"You hit the nail on the head."
"So how is babysitting Connor Mason’s sister? Saw her at the Ugly Stick Saloon last night." Grant whistled. "Looks to me like you got yourself a hot little handful in that one."
Ed’s muscles tightened, his pulse kicking up a notch as he stepped around the end of the stall. "What do you mean?"
Grant held up his hands. "Nothing, buddy. Not a thing. Just that she’s a pretty girl."
"Yeah and every man in the building was drooling over her. I get it. Don’t add to the crowd, will ya?" He should never have offered to look out for Kendall Mason. Especially now that she was over twenty-one and legal in every way. As far as Ed was concerned, her body should be considered a class-one felony.
Every time he looked at her, he wanted to commit all kinds of lewd and lascivious acts. With two hard pulls, he yanked the leather strap from the girth around the horse’s belly and let it fall, swinging to the other side.
Grant leaned on his saddle, apparently in no hurry whatsoever to groom his own horse or end the current conversation. "I don’t see how you do it."
"Do what?" As far as Ed was concerned, Grant talked too much. If he wasn’t the boss, he’d probably tell him so. Hell, he might anyway.
"I don’t know how you can keep your hands off her."
For the past six months, Ed had been fighting that very urge. "Grant, you talk too much." His hands ached to get hold of Kendall and touch her in ways that had nothing to do with brotherly love.
Grant laughed out loud, then continued to rub it in.
Much to Ed‘s agony.
"With that body and those boobs, the temptation would kill me."
"Resist, or I might just have to kill you. And I’d hate to lose my job because I killed the boss." Ed tossed the saddle onto a nearby saddle rack and grabbed a brush from the shelf, eager to get the task done and get home.
When Grant made no move to remove his horse’s saddle, it was all Ed could do not to throw the brush at the man. With quick, calming strokes, Ed curried his gelding, refusing to respond to any other conversation from Grant.
"Okay, okay, I get the hint." Grant finally turned toward his saddle and removed the strap around the horse’s belly. "I’m just saying you’re a better man than I am."
Ed snorted. As he ran the brush over the horse’s hindquarters, his cell phone vibrated his back pocket. He pulled it out and clicked the talk button. "Yeah."
"Ed?"
Every red blood cell leaped to attention at the sound of Kendall’s voice. Then they all sped south to pool in his groin. Grant had it right. Keeping his hands off Kendall was only half his problem. Keeping his mind off her had become an impossibility.
"What do you need Kendall?"
"When are you coming home? I have a project I need your help on."
"I’m not much good with school projects. Get one of your classmates to help you out."
"I would, but I’d rather you help me on this one. It’s special and you’re my best choice," her breath whooshed out slowly before she continued, "the only man I trust."
Ed sucked in a deep breath, his imagination running rampant over the close quarters they’d be working in. He couldn’t do it. No way. Just tell her. "I’ll be home in fifteen minutes."
"Oh, good. I’ll be waiting," she whispered into his ear, and the phone went silent.
Ed had a good start on a full-blown erection by the time he climbed into his truck and turned it toward Temptation, Texas, the little backwater town he’d been born and raised in.
The short ride home from the Rockin’ G Ranch wasn’t nearly long enough to cool the heat building in his loins. Tomorrow, he’d start looking for a different place to live. He’d planned on living in the apartment below Kendall’s until he had his own house built, but the way things were going, the way he felt about his best friend’s little sister…He couldn’t last much longer without doing something stupid.
As he turned onto the street where the old Ross house stood, a convertible backed out of the driveway he shared with the other two occupants. A muscular, bare-chested young man smiled and waved as he passed by with the top down, his long, bright blond hair blowing in the breeze.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel and a frown settled between Ed’s brows. Who the hell was that leaving the house he shared with Kendall and Lacey? Better be one of Lacey’s conquests. She was old enough to manage her own affairs. Kendall, on the other hand, had barely been twenty-one for a few weeks. She’d better not be messing around on Ed’s watch.
As he shifted into park, he glanced up at the window to Kendall’s apartment. The blinds were open and Kendall stood with her side to the window, wearing nothing but a thin, lace bra and thong panties. She turned her back to the window and unclipped the bra, letting it fall down over her arms to the floor.
She might as well be naked—the thin strap of the thong cutting a line between her butt cheeks hid nothing.
Ed moaned, his cock twitched, and blood rushed in to make it swell behind his zipper. He forced anger to follow the powerful rush of lust. Did the girl have so little sense as to leave her window wide open so that any peeping Tom could look in?
With the storm of lust and righteous anger driving him forward, Ed leaped out of the car, passed the door to his apartment on the first floor and took the steps two at a time to the upper apartment where Kendall lived. He hammered on the door until Kendall flung it open.