Page 18 of SEAL’S Baby Surprise (Lanes #2)

AUSTIN

Shower together, save water . . . Oh, yeah, great idea! Only thing is, I hadn’t stored any condoms in the shower. And the part of me that rarely has any good ideas at all doesn’t give a foil wrapper if there aren’t. In fact, it would be happy to take the plunge without benefit of a jacket.

Lee doesn’t seem to be worried about it either. Since I’d rubbed the soap suds on her backside, she has totally blissed out. I can feel her nipples harden against my chest, and our breathing has synchronized. All it would take to be inside her, would be to just lift her up . . . and . . .

I swallow hard. Julia is not a mistake. I would never call her that. Izzy and I were married when she was conceived.

But I don’t think Lee is ready for that kind of commitment, and I don’t want to get her pregnant just to pressure her into marriage. I’m older and more experienced, so it’s up to me to be the responsible one here.

Lee puts her arms around my neck and cuddles up to me so close I can feel her heart pound against my sternum. It would be so darned easy. She starts kissing me on my throat and under my chin. My skin is on fire with her kisses, and I feel like I’m burning up.

I’m happy to burn.

“Let’s get the soap off,” I say hoarsely, “Then we can do what you want. But let’s do it in my bed.”

She makes a little growly sound in her throat, then reluctantly says, “Okay.”

She reaches up and gets the sprayer, and showers us both, making a production of spraying down between our fronts.

As soon as the water is off, I reach over and open the door, careless of whether water spills out onto the carpet. Let it. I’m tired of that carpet anyway.

I want to pick Lee up and let her wrap her legs around me, but neither the door nor the hallway is wide enough for that.

I ease her off my lap and push her gently out the door.

When she tries to turn and trap me in the bath, I turn her around and smack her lightly across her wet backside with my wet hand.

That sends her running down the hall to my bed. She jumps on it, making the whole van shimmy, and spreads herself out like a starfish.

I hurry after her, pausing only long enough to pull a condom out of the storage compartment at the door. My hands are shaking with nerves and eagerness. I can scarcely get the thing out of its wrapper and rolled down over my erect member.

By the time I get it on, Lee is pressing back against the mattress with her arms, legs wide open, tilting her pelvis so that her pussy is open and inviting me in.

I want to plunge in like a plowman into fertile soil, but I make myself slow down. I hover over her, like I’m doing a push up, then I ease into her.

She is warm and tight, and I can feel the moisture from her pussy on my balls. She is so eager; she nearly loses me as she tries to take all of me at once. I brace myself on my knees and one arm so I can have a hand free to help guide all the parts.

Then we are together, and we catch our rhythm. Her shy laughter turns into moans and pants, and I’m more than a little bit excited about that. Lee is so responsive, and every time I move, she seems to love it.

I wanted everything to be good for her, and it’s clear she likes it.

I only hope it’s real.

Then I lose myself in her. I’m hanging on, holding off because I want to hear her come before I do. But holy . . . she’s so good, so sweet, so willing . . . She wraps those muscular legs around me, and I’m trapped. But I don’t want to be released, I want to just keep on going and going . . .

Then Lee’s eyes go kind of distant, and she lets out a squeak that sounds like she’s swallowed a scream, and her vagina, legs, and arms all squeeze around me at once. It’s just too much, and I explode inside her.

We continue to move for a moment or two after, reveling in the continued sensation and the little aftershocks. We hold each other as if we are the only people in the universe. For a little while, it is true. We are all there is.

Then my shoulders start to cramp up from keeping my weight off her, and she says, “Austin, I’m sorry but I got to pee.”

I laugh and slide off her, moving to one side. When she comes back, I go use the bathroom. When I return, she says, “Now I want another shower.”

“We emptied the reservoir,” I say. “I’ll have to go refill it.”

“Okay,” she says. “I can wait.”

“It’s going to be cold,” I warn.

“That’s okay, too,” she says. “I’d rather be cold than sticky.”

I laugh, get out of bed, pull on my shorts and go to the outside hydrant to turn on the hose to fill the water reservoir.

As I round the back end of the van, I see movement up near the dumpsters that are to one side of the path to the village.

Then, almost out of nowhere, Ark bursts on the scene, baying as if he were a hound on the trail of a hot scent. A man bolts from the dumpsters, running as if his life depends on it. Ark starts to sprint after him.

“Ark! Heel!” I yell. Obediently, Ark trots back to me, and takes up position at my side. Even so, he continues to growl and fuss.

All up and down the residential row, lights are turning on, people are hopping out with flashlights, trying to discover what is going on. I would have given a dollar or two to know that myself. Ark had run off intruders before but had never reacted to one the way he is behaving now.

Lee comes out of the van, a bathrobe wrapped around her. “What happened, Austin? What upset Ark?”

“I don’t know,” I say, straining my eyes against the darkness. “Can you go get my big flashlight off the kitchen counter?”

“Sure,” she says, ducking back into the van. A moment or two later, she returns, flashlight in hand. “What happened? What set Ark off?”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “Why don’t you duck back into the van while I check it out?”

“I don’t want to be by myself,” she says. “Let me come with you.”

“All right,” I say. I shine the light on the ground and walk up toward the trash bins. We look around, but there’s really nothing to see. The dry, sandy soil doesn’t take good footprints. Lee sticks to one side of me, Ark to the other.

“See anything?” one of the neighbors calls out. I recognize the voice as belonging to Pops McKinney, who describes himself as a retired hobo.

I shake my head. “Just some guy up around the dumpsters. But if he was dumpster diving in these parts, he’s going to have slim pickings.”

“That’s for sure,” Pops says, “Folks around here don’t throw away nothin’ if it’s got a scrap of good in it. If they don’t got no use for it, they take it to the Goodwill or give it to somebody.”

I know that to be true, so the only explanation for the lurking figure is that he is trying to find someone.

“It’s me,” Lee whispers. “He’s trying to find me. I knew he would.”

“Well, whoever he is, he can’t have you,” I whisper back. Then I add a little louder, “Come on. I want to check on Mrs. Turner and the kids.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Pops says.

And I don’t turn him down. He’s about a million years older than dirt.

He lives in a teardrop trailer and keeps a squeaky-clean lot.

I get the feeling he’s got some kind of military background, although I’ve never asked.

If he’s old enough to have survived the hobo jungles, then I figure he’s a good man to have around.

When we get to the Turners’ tiny house, we can hear Squeegee yipping at the top of her little voice. I knock “shave and a haircut” on the door, and Mrs. Turner taps back, “six bits.”

But she doesn’t open up right away. She slides open the privacy eye, and a little sign that says, “Smile, you’re on candid camera, being recorded,” lights up.

Only after it winks off does she open the door. “Oh, Austin! It’s you. I was scared. After Ark started barking, Squeegee started up and wouldn’t hush.”

“Are you and the kids okay?” I ask.

She nods. “All accounted for, although I doubt if they are asleep now.”

Three tousled heads poke out around Mrs. Turner indicating that the kids are definitely awake.

“Do I have to go home, Daddy?” Julia asks.

“You okay?” I ask Mrs. Turner.

“We’re fine,” she says. “There’s no reason for Julia not to stay, unless you are worried.”

“I’m okay with her staying here,” I say. “The trouble was up near the sign. Ark can patrol, and I’ll stay up and about for a while, too.”

Mrs. Turner and the kids go back in, and I wait until I hear the locks click and see the little sign that indicates the Turner security system is recording.

Pops walks back with Lee and me. “What in tarnation,” he says. “It’s usually quiet around here. No drugs, no drink except an occasional beer or wine. It’s why I like it here.”

“It’s why we all like it,” I say. “I’ll do some more looking around in the morning. I didn’t see anything tonight, not even so much as a conveniently dropped cigarette butt.”

“Heh, heh,” Pops cackles. “I’ll say that’s a good thing. We don’t need no dumpster fire. Them things is nasty.”

We drop him off at his little trailer.

Back at the van, I fill up the water reservoir. Then we each take turns rinsing off before curling up together in my bed.

Lee trembles against me. “I just want a little bit of happiness,” she whispers when I ask her if she’s okay. “Is that really too much to ask?”

I don’t have any real answers for that, so I gather her in my arms, and kiss the top of her fuzzy little head. Those blond curls are darned cute. Why in the world did she ever color them pink?