Surrender (20 page)

Angela, one of the older students in my Wednesday class, came up to me one afternoon after our class had ended. “Miss Love . . .”

I turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “I thought it was Miss Lovely.”

“We shortened it,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I can't figure out the part of the choreography where you bend down and stick your leg out.”

“Okay, here, let me show you in half time.” I took the position and placed one hand on the back of my head and with the other grabbed my stomach as I crouched forward, my knees bending outward. Then I lifted my leg and extended it in front of me along with the corresponding hand, stepping forward then right, swooping my leg back around. “Now you try.”

Angela tried the move, and I stood beside her, making adjustments as she went along. I stood back, my chest swelling with pride as she tried three times before finally nailing the move.

“It was the swoop that was giving me the most trouble,” she said. “But I think I got it.”

“Keep practicing at home. Pretty soon your muscles will remember what to do.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks, Miss Love,” Angela said, waving before she met up with her mom by the door. I waved good-bye, filled with a sense of satisfaction. So this job wasn't as glamorous as performing on a stage, but I was helping to shape the lives of these kids, fostering the love of dance. And that, in many ways, was more gratifying.

When I was the only one left in the building, I turned off the overhead lights and began to put away anything out of place around the edges of the room, thinking about when I'd get to visit Neal next. Will and I had flown to Maryland a few times to visit him in the hospital as he recuperated from his injuries, cheering him on as he went through the process of physical therapy.

It had been two months since he was admitted to that hospital; the doctors said he'd probably need to stay one month more. For Will and me, who had made room in our house and were ready to start our life with Neal, it felt like forever.

I was deep in thought, lacing up a pair of tap shoes, and didn't notice the door opening. It was only after someone called my name that I finally looked up.

There in the doorway stood Neal, in jeans and a button-down shirt, looking larger than life in the late afternoon light.

“Hi,” he said with a crooked grin.

“You're back.” I stood frozen in place, my muscles apparently forgetting how to move. I blinked a few times, sure that if I cleared my head, I'd realize he was just a mirage.

“I'm back,” he said in his deep, smooth voice as he stepped across the threshold. His hair had grown a little longer and he was clean shaven, but though he appeared put together, his eyes belied the riot of emotions inside. “The hospital released me this morning.”

I took in a deep, shuddering breath, then I was crossing the room and colliding with his strong, hard body. I hugged him tight, pressing my face into the crook of his neck and breathing in his cool scent. “I can't believe you're here.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pressing his palms flat on my back, and kissed the top of my head. “Me, either.”

I turned my face up to his and drew his head down for a kiss that quickly turned into something more, our hands and mouths moving everywhere.

He pulled away, breathing hard. “Are we alone?” he asked, looking around.

“Yes.” I reached behind him and flipped the lock on the door then closed all the blinds in the room, cloaking the room in near darkness. “Now we are.”

“Will? Carol?”

“Carol's away at a conference and Will is at a birthday party,” I said with a smile. “And classes are over for the rest of the day.”

Neal walked toward me, a slight limp in his step, and took hold of my hips. “Perfect,” he said before pulling me against him and letting me know how happy he was to be back. He bent down and dragged his lips along my exposed jaw, breathing low and raspy against my tingling skin. “It's been torture, seeing you at the hospital but never getting to do more than kiss you.”

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, running my nails along his scalp and feeling the scars at the base of his skull. “The feeling is mutual, I assure you.”

“I've had dreams,” he ground out. “So many dreams.”

“Tell me about them,” I whispered, feeling dazed and hypnotized.

“I dream about you under me, moaning as you drag your nails along my back. I dream about bending you over the couch and taking you from behind. I dream about you giving me a lap dance, stripping only for me.”

I pulled away.

“It's just a fantasy, Julie. I'm not trying to objectify you,” Neal said when I walked off to the other side of the room.

I came back with a chair and set it down at the center of the room. “Sit.”

His eyes widened and he came over, towering over me with a question in his eyes.

“I'm going to give you something to really dream about,” I said, and pushed him down onto the chair. I walked over to the sound system and put on a song, grinning as the first guitar licks filled the room.

“Nice,” he said with a laugh as “Pour Some Sugar on Me” began to play.

I sauntered back to him, kicking off my shoes one at a time, coming to a stop between his legs. I let my hair down, flicking the elastic at his chest, then set my hands on his thighs and performed a dip, flipping my hair back as I dragged my chest along his body and face. “Take your shirt off,” I whispered, biting his lobe before straightening up and pivoting around. I bent at the waist and grasped my ankles, sliding my hands up the insides of my legs as I straightened.

Neal threw aside his shirt, hissing when I traced my fingers along his collarbone and shoulders as I walked all the way around him. With a heated look, I reached for the ties on my wraparound shirt, tugging each one loose as his eyes followed my every move. “For the record, I've never done this before.”

His lips parted when I pulled away the shirt from my chest to reveal my lacy black bra. “You're so beautiful,” he said, his wide chest rising and falling as he reached for me.

I came closer, kicking one leg up over his thigh, then the other, until I sat straddling him, gyrating my hips into his rock-hard erection. He trailed his hands up my back until they reached my bra, his fingers making short work of the hooks. With a smile playing along his mouth, he slid the straps off my shoulders, pressing his lips to my skin before peeling the bra away from my chest.

He gasped audibly, making me laugh out loud at its comic effect. “Excited much?” I asked.

He grinned up at me as he pressed his hands to my shoulder blades. “I've wanted to do this for the longest time,” he said before he buried his face between my breasts and shook his head side to side, jiggling my breasts around.

I laughed but it quickly died in my throat when he stopped, his forehead pressed against my collarbone as his hot breath came rapidly. His hands slid around to the front to cup the sides of my breasts, and he turned his face to one side, his tongue dragging along large swaths of my skin until his mouth found my nipple.

I threw my head back and enjoyed the attention he was giving to my breasts, continuing to swivel my hips on his lap. Then his hands dropped to my waist, stilling me.

“You're going to make me come right here with your magic hips,” he said, his breath coming out fast.

I dismounted him just as the music changed over to an R&B song with a deep bass beat.

“Do you have a stripping playlist or something?” he asked.

I quirked up one eyebrow. “I've been planning this for a while.” I ran my fingers along the sides of my breasts, down my waist, and into the waistband of my black leggings. Then I bent forward so that my breasts were hanging mere inches from his face and slid my pants down my legs, keeping my black thong in place. I tipped forward and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before pulling away, lifting my hands into my hair, sliding my hips up and down like a belly dancer.

As he watched me, his fingers worked on his belt and zipper, lifting his ass up off the chair as he freed his rigid cock. He wrapped his fingers around its base and squeezed. I turned around and shook my ass at him, lifting my hair out of the way as I gave him a sultry look over my shoulder.

He grinned then raised his hand, landing a smack on my ass cheek. I gasped and he did it again on the other cheek, his eyes flashing in excitement.

I raised an eyebrow. “You like that, do you?”

“Ungh, come here,” he said a second before he grabbed my thong and pulled me back toward him. He slid a finger along the crease of my ass down to my cleft, hooking his finger into the damp fabric and pulling it aside.

I took hold of his thick shaft and positioned him at my entrance, sliding the swollen head through my folds a few times before slowly lowering onto it. He groaned long and loud when I slid down, sheathing him completely.

I closed my eyes and savored the thickness of him, my insides quivering at the sweet invasion.

He pressed his face into my back, his hands digging into my hips, and gasped, “You feel so good.”

I moaned when he began to guide me up and down on his lap, setting my hands on his thighs for support. But as good as this felt, I needed more, needed to see the pleasure and anguish on his face as we made love. So I stood up, feeling a loss when he popped out.

“What . . . where are you going?” he asked in a panic.

I turned around, biting back a smile, and straddled him once again, hooking my feet onto the rungs of the chair. A sigh escaped from my lips when he filled me once again. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and began to rock my hips back and forth so that my clit was rubbing against him in a delicious way, my gaze never straying from his face.

When I sped up, his mouth fell open and his eyes squeezed shut. To see his normally calm exterior so shaken did strange things to me, and I brought my mouth down on his, kissing him as I moved faster, squeezed harder. All too soon I was coming, quivering around him.

Neal grabbed my hips and slammed me onto his cock two more times before he became rigid, muffling his cries as he came and came, his ass lifting up off the chair.

He bent his head to my chest, his breath cooling my damp skin. I kissed the top of his head, my entire body trembling from the force of having this man in my arms again, thanking all the gods for keeping him safe, for giving me one more chance to get it right.

“Sign here,” Bob said, leaning over the table to point to the obvious. After Neal scribbled his signature, Bob flipped the page and pointed to another line with the word
signature
written under it. “Sign here again.”

After all was said and done, he stood up and shook Neal's hand then shook mine, too, for good measure. He called to someone to bring the car around, then led us out of the glass-walled office. “You're really gonna love this car, Mrs. Harding,” he said to me while we waited at the curb.

I opened my mouth to correct him when Neal took hold of my hand and said, “Yep. She definitely will.” He grinned down at me, mischief in his eyes, then slid something onto my finger.

With my heart thundering in my chest, I looked down to find my silver ring, a little nicked in places but still whole.

“Someday,” Neal whispered. “It doesn't have to be today, but someday.”

I swallowed and nodded, gazing up at the handsome man beside me, imagining being his wife.

“There she is,” Captain Obvious said when the metallic-blue Jeep Grand Cherokee rolled around the corner. Neal broke away from me to get the key, smiling as he got into the driver's seat. “She purrs like a kitten,” Bob said.

After five more minutes of cheesy lines and handshaking, we were finally on our way in Neal's brand-new vehicle.

“This is fancy,” I said, sliding my hand along the black leather seat. “I think I could get used to these heated
and
cooled leather seats.”

He smiled over at me. “I think I could get used to seeing you there.”

“I meant the driver seat.”

He reached over and set his hand on my thigh.

I sat back in the seat and sighed, a content smile on my face. “So where to next?”

“How about we go pick up Will from school?”

“School's not over for another forty-five minutes.”

“That's perfect,” he said. “It'll give us plenty of time to buy him a booster seat for this car.”

—

“Hey!” Will said when we walked up to the front of his school. He threw his arms around my waist then gave Neal a high five. “Wait a minute, why are you guys both picking me up?” he asked through narrowed eyes.

“I took the afternoon off to help Neal go shopping,” I said, taking his hand and leading him back to the car.

He reached out for Neal and linked us all together, swinging our arms as we walked across the parking lot. “What did you buy? Is it something for me?”

Neal laughed. “Not exactly.”

We stopped in front of the car; the lights flashed when Neal unlocked it remotely.

Will's eyes were big when he put two and two together. “You bought a Jeep?” he asked Neal.

“Yep. I was getting tired of rental cars and taxis.”

“You didn't sell your plane, right?”

“Nope. Still have the Lancair.”

“Does this mean you're really going to stick around?” Will asked.

Neal crouched down to face Will. “I have every intention of staying.”

“Forever?”

Neal pinched his nose. “For as long as humanly possible.”

—

That night, Will once again pleaded to eat ramen noodles for dinner.

“But it's my favorite!” he said when I told him no.

“I know it's your favorite, but it's not healthy,” Neal said from the stove. “Besides, I cooked your second favorite.”

“Mac and cheese?” Will asked hopefully.

“Okay, then, your third favorite.”

“Spaghetti?”

“Bingo!” Neal set a plate down in front of Will then grated fresh Parmesan on top.

“You ready to eat?” Neal called out to where I sat on the floor, stretching my legs in front of the mirror.

“Almost.” When I was done, I got up and joined them at the kitchen table, smiling up gratefully when Neal set a plate in front of me. “Thank you.”

He kissed the top of my head then sat down at his seat.

“Should we move the stuff back to the actual living room so we can have a formal dining room for a change?” I asked as Neal shredded cheese on both of our plates.

He shook his head without hesitation. “Why? You love having your own little dance studio.”

I shrugged and turned my attention back to the food before me. I swirled my fork around then brought it up to my mouth, groaning in surprise when the flavors hit my taste buds. “Oh, my God, this is so good,” I said after I'd swallowed the first bite. I looked down at my plate. “This is not the Prego in the pantry.”

He shook his head, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “It's my mom's recipe.”

I took another bite. “It's delicious.”

He set his fork down, studying me. “You would have liked her,” he said. “And she probably would've disliked you.”

“What?!”

“At first,” he said, laughing and holding his palms up. “Only at first. She didn't think anyone was good enough for her son.”

I pursed my lips and glanced at Will. “I guess I can understand that.”

“But you would have won her over. She'd have been grateful that you took pity on her little wandering son and gave him a place to call home.”

“I'm grateful to her, too,” I said with a smile. “For this recipe. And for giving birth to you.”

—

After we put Will to bed, Neal and I checked the doors and turned off all the lights then went upstairs to our room.

He took off his clothes and stood beside me at the bathroom sink in only his gray boxer briefs, his muscular body on full display. He'd been living with us for two weeks, and still the sight of him like this, standing nearly naked beside me in front of the mirror, never failed to steal the breath from my lungs.

“You're staring,” Neal said with one cocky eyebrow raised.

“I'm just wondering if it's actually possible to have a ten-pack,” I teased.

With his toothbrush in his mouth, he flexed, allowing me to count each raised, delineated muscle. “Eight,” I said, shaking my head. “You're a slacker.”

His mouth stretched out into a foamy smile. “I need to do more exercises that include the plank position, then.”

I palmed his butt and squeezed. “Perhaps that can be arranged later,” I said on the way out. “Hey, have you seen my iPad?” I asked before leaving the bathroom.

“In the office,” he mumbled around the toothbrush.

I went down the hall to what had once been the guest bedroom, but since Neal needed a quiet place to work, we'd pushed the bed against the wall to make room for a desk and chair. Sometimes we'd find Will up there, drawing on his notebook with the smartpen, claiming to be “working,” but mostly it was a place for Neal to find solace when the reality of what had happened in Afghanistan hit him, when he needed to sit by himself for a little while and sift through his thoughts.

I found my iPad on the table, like Neal had said. When I picked it up, I noticed Will's notebook with the smartpen lying on top, blinking red for record. I pressed the little stop button on the side, making a mental note to remind Will about conserving battery. Curiosity got the best of me and I pressed the back button to listen to his last recorded message, holding the pen up to my ear.

A computer chair creaked, the sound it made when someone sat on it. From the long length of silence, with only paper rustling and the pen scratching discernibly, it became clear Will hadn't meant to be recording.

Then Will started mumbling, that thing he'd described as talking to his guardian angel. “Did I tell you I have a big game on Saturday?” he asked. “My team's going to play this other team who's really, really good. They've won two games in a row. But I'm pretty sure we'll kick their butts because I've been practicing my soccer drills. I even score goals all the time now. Neal tells me to just keep practicing so I can get better.”

He paused. “I like Neal. He loves me and my mom a lot. And he has his own plane. And he has a scar on his stomach just like mine. Mommy was scared for him when he got hurt, but I knew you would watch over him like you watch over me. I knew you wouldn't let him die.”

He stopped talking when the door squeaked open and Neal spoke. “Hey, bud, who are you talking to?”

“My dad,” Will said in the same matter-of-fact tone he'd used with me.

Neal's voice sounded closer. “Oh, yeah? What were you telling him?”

“About things,” Will replied. “Do you think he can actually hear me?”

“I bet he can,” Neal said without hesitation. “And I'm pretty sure he's got a big smile on his face because he's so proud of you.”

“How do you know?”

“I'm not your dad and
I'm
proud of you. Can you imagine how your own dad feels?”

“Do you think your mom is proud of you?”

“I hope so,” Neal said, and cleared his throat. “At the very least, I think she'll be happy that I have you guys.”

“Are you going to marry my mom?”

“Uh . . .” Neal was quiet for a second, then, “I don't think she's ready for it yet. I just moved in, so we're still trying to figure things out.”

“Don't you want to marry her?”

“I do, I really do. One day, bud, I'm going to drop down on one knee and ask her, and she'll say yes. But not yet.”

“After you get better?”

There was a long pause, then Neal said, “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes you're really quiet and you don't smile. Remember, this morning I was telling you a joke and you didn't even laugh.”

“Yeah. I'm sorry. Sometimes I get really sad when I think about what happened over there. It doesn't mean I stopped listening to you or paying attention. It just takes a little while for me to stop being sad,” Neal said in a soft voice.

“You can think about something that makes you happy.”

“I do,” Neal said with a smile in his voice. “I think about you and your mom.”

Will snorted. “Lame,” he said a moment before bursting into delighted laughter.

Neal gave a short clap. “Well, I've got to start cooking and you have to do homework. Meet you downstairs in a few minutes?”

“Okay.” The door creaked shut and the pen scratching across paper started up again. He was quiet for a long moment then said softly, “Neal told me before that you were up in heaven, looking down at me. Is that true? Can you see me when I'm playing Legos or when I don't eat my peas? Or when I hurt myself and want to cry but I don't because I want to be tough like you?” Then in a wavery voice, he whispered, “Dad, are you happy?”

In the background, my voice could be heard shouting up the stairs, reminding Will to start his homework.

“I have to go and do homework,” Will said on a sigh. “But is it okay if I call Neal ‘Dad,' too?”

I turned off the pen when the recording ended and it was only when I was setting it back down that I noticed the drawings in his notebook. Will had drawn kids kicking a soccer ball, a car with
JEEP
written across it, a woman standing on her toes with her arms outstretched, a man flying a prop plane. Up at the top corner of the lined page was a cloud and peeking around it was a face, smiling, watching it all take place.

With a tightness in my chest, I crept into Will's room and kissed his sleepy head, wishing more than anything that he'd known his father. “He's happy, Will,” I whispered, hoping he'd hear me in the dream world. “Knowing how you turned out, I don't know how he couldn't be.”

Back in the master bedroom, I found Neal on the bed, lying on his stomach.

“Did you find it?” he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow.

I undressed and crawled into bed, stretching along the entire length of his body. I touched a finger to his shoulder and felt the raised white scars that lay scattered across his arm and back, then pressed my lips to the puckered patch of skin on the base of his skull where hair no longer grew. “Yes, I definitely did.”

He shivered when my lips traveled downward, to the bird with outstretched wings. I laid my head on the expanse of skin between his shoulder blades and breathed him in, savoring his warmth against my cheek. “I could stay here all night.”

He gave an appreciative moan, the sound rumbling through his back.

“Do you feel at home here?”

He rolled to the side, throwing me onto my back, and before I knew it, he was hovering over me, studying me with a dark expression on his face. “I feel at home with you,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.

I wound my arm around the back of his head and pulled him down, our lips parting for a kiss that spoke volumes about love and passion. And later, when he slid home and touched the deepest part of me, I realized that Neal and I were more than an optical illusion, that once in a great while, the ocean finds a way to create a wave so immense, so powerful, that it can rise up and kiss the sky.