Masters at Arms (Rescue Me Saga, #0.5)(12)
Karla felt her mom’s scrutiny, but couldn’t take her eyes off Adam. Where he held her arms, a tingle of electricity zinged up to her shoulders and neck, then down to her…. Oh, my!
“What's the matter with you, Karla?” Mom asked. “You've seen plenty of blood. Ian was always getting patched up.”
"I’m okay,” she whispered, because of the frog lodged in her throat. He smiled at her and she felt tears dripping down her face. He’d taken that hit on his shoulder for her. She ached to press her lips against it, the way her mother had kissed her boo-boos as a kid. Usually, the pain magically went away. She wanted to take Adam’s pain away.
He reached up and wiped the tears away from her face with his thumbs. She caught her breath, then totally forgot to breathe for a moment.
“I’m okay, hon. Believe me, this is nothing.”
"You should see ..." her mom began.
Adam reached out and placed a hand on Mom’s arm. They exchanged a look, as if they shared a secret Karla wasn't in on. Mom nodded. Karla felt the green-eyed monster of jealousy for the first time in her life.
More tears welled in her eyes. Frustration at not being able to touch him, to comfort him, or even to get him to notice her as a woman, ate at her. She was still just a kid in his eyes. If she touched him the way she wanted, he’d think she was a freak.
But that just made her want to touch him even more.
*
Adam tried to stay out of everyone’s way on Thanksgiving morning. He’d managed to catch a few hours of dreamless sleep, which was more than he could say for the last few months. Then Karla’s relatives had started arriving—grandmother, uncle, aunt, cousins. Adam hadn’t been in a huge family gathering for Thanksgiving since he was a kid, and he was feeling a bit claustrophobic.
Adam knew her family meant well, but he counted the hours until he could get on that bus tonight and start making his way home to Pendleton. He grabbed his jacket and slipped out the front door, hoping no one would notice. He needed some air. The jacket did little to keep the wind out. But, compared with the crowded, overheated house, the air felt good. After he’d walked a few blocks, the frigid wind began to seep into his still-aching bones and muscles. He’d known Chicago was windy, but when the gusts were fifty miles an hour and the air temperature barely twenty, it was god-damned frigid.
He didn’t know where he was headed until he arrived. Standing on the shore of Lake Michigan, the wind blowing ice crystals from the lake onto his face, Adam braced himself against the gusts. Gray clouds hovered over the surface, much like they did over Lake Superior.
He and Joni hadn’t had much money when they’d married and all he could afford for a honeymoon was an off-season cabin rental at a park along Superior. It had been colder than a mother that November, too. Not that they’d wanted to venture out much. They were too busy exploring their newfound mutual interest in sexual bondage and each other’s bodies.
Adam got hard picturing Joni tied spread-eagle and blindfolded as he tortured her tits with ice and a feather. She had the cutest damned giggle. He’d tried to use his stern Dom voice, but knowing she couldn’t see him, he’d grinned every time she let out her little-girl giggle.
Damned wind was making his eyes water. He reached up to wipe the moisture from them, then his mind returned to the cabin. After two days of nothing but sex and sleep—maybe a little food, he couldn’t remember—they’d bundled up and ventured out to walk along the icy shore, down to the lighthouse.
Joni was curious about everything and they’d probably spent two hours talking with the lighthouse keeper. Adam accused her later of shirking her wifely duties by delaying their return to the cabin. Her screams of outrage as he reddened her ass during her first erotic spanking had turned them both on so much, they didn’t leave the cabin again the rest of the week.
Cold wetness on his cheeks brought him back to the present. He wasn’t sure if they were brought on from the wind or his sorrow. He didn’t care. No one was around to see him cry. For the first time since learning he was going to lose her, he just let himself feel the gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been.
Joni had given his heart a safe harbor all these years, but he knew now it was time for him to haul anchor, reset his compass, and shove off into unchartered waters.
“Safe journey, little subbie. We’ll meet up again someday.”
The wind whipped the words away from him. He hoped they made their way to his dear, sweet Joni, wherever she was. He didn’t dwell much on spiritual matters, but knew in his heart he and Joni would reunite one day.
Adam drew a ragged breath and pressed his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. He now knew he was ready to resume his duties at Pendleton or wherever they sent him. While he’d never forget Joni, he’d be able to compartmentalize the memories and pain so they didn’t take his focus off the mission at hand. He would never put his units in jeopardy because he couldn’t let go of the past. Until this moment, though, he hadn’t been sure he would be able to do that.
A sense of peace came over him. He almost thought he felt Joni’s lips brushing his cheek, the way she did before they curled up with each other and fell asleep. Then he became aware of the icy pellets pounding his face as a lake-effect squall whipped up. He turned around to make his way back to Karla’s house.
Standing a few feet away from him, as if on guard duty, shivering inside her coat, stood Karla.