“Of course, you’d meet my parents . . . ,” he tells me and smiles.
“Of course,” I agree.
As we sit completely still and he narrates, images flash and the sounds of his family fade away. The first image is of us singing to the radio as he drives us around, and we’re laughing at how awful we sound. The next image follows immediately after the first and it’s of us hiking up the mountain through the park while I whine about how far we’ve gone. I can’t seem to keep up with the athletic abilities of a solider. The next picture shows me on Ike’s back as he carries me back down the mountain because I’m a klutz and sprained my ankle.
“You carried me the entire way back down, huh?” I ask quietly.
“Yep. Happily.” Warmth blankets me.
Throughout every image what I notice most are the smiles on our faces. And that causes my chest to ache.
As he speaks, more images appear of us cooking spaghetti together, me straddling him on the couch as we make out while he cops a feel. Heat radiates through my body as I watch how his hands fist my hair and how our mouths press to the others, achingly hard, as if we just can’t get close enough. The passion in that moment, hits me hard.
“I love your breasts,” Ike says, breathless.
“Perv,” I jest and he grins.
“By now I have a serious case of blue balls, but you’re making me wait.”
In the image, he’s just taken off my shirt. Even though I’m wearing a bra, he stares at me, his brown eyes fixed on me as if I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. I watch myself stare back, and the want and need in that moment is palpable; it’s a living and breathing thing. I need to see this moment with Ike. “Maybe I’m ready by now.”
In this beautiful daydream, our surroundings swirl and we’re by the river under the large tree staring at one another. Ike’s soft gaze meets mine and while I see want and need, I see pain. This will be every bit brutal as it will beautiful. We’re giving ourselves to one another the only way we can, but afterwards, we must face the inevitable. We must let each other go.
“Take your shirt off,” I order him. He’s not wearing his normal Army uniform. He’s in a dark button up shirt and jeans. Our gazes remain locked as his fingers slowly undo each button while I slip off my jacket and kick my shoes off. When his shirt falls from his body, my mouth goes dry. He’s perfect. His large broad shoulders and arms are smooth, his dog tags resting against his firm chest. His abs are ripped and peppered with the faintest dusting of hair that trails down into the waist his pants.
“Now you,” he urges.
She’s nervous. And it’s beautiful. Her arms cross as she reaches down for the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, her long hair moving up with her shirt, but tumbling back down her shoulders and back as she tosses it aside. Even though I’m only imagining this, the image is so clear and feels so real. Stepping toward me, her hands move to my belt and begin undoing it, before she works on the button of my pants. Before she pulls them down, my hands graze her shoulders as I reach around and unhook her bra. It falls to the ground and I step back and admire her, memorizing every detail of her body that I can. Quickly I pick her up and lay her on the blanket. The day is warm, but there’s a slight chill in the air causing her skin to pebble with goose bumps. I pull her jeans and panties off and quickly remove my own. Before kneeling down and pressing my body to hers, I stare at her, naked and waiting for me. Fuck, she’s exquisite. My insides ache with want for her, but there’s a pain there, too. This is it. This is all there is for us. But it’s more than I thought I’d get so I’ll seize it. Once I feel her under me, her breasts against my chest, I tug the side of the blanket over us, keeping as much warmth around us and between us as I can.
“Are you ready?”
She licks her lips and nods yes. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life.”