I watched it, steeling myself to do what I promised, and I kept steeling myself as Raiden unfolded his body encased in tan cargo pants, tight hunter green tee and boots out of the Jeep. I continued steeling myself as he slowly walked up the steps, eyes on me and stopped at the post by the stairs.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Hey,” he said back in a way that that one word glided across the space and wrapped warm and snug around me like one of my afghans.

I quit steeling.

But I did make to move, saying, “You want a—?”

“Don’t move.”

I settled because there was a command to his voice, but it was different. It was like the way he said “hey” except more. A lot more. I stayed where I was, eyes glued to him, feeling funny in a way so good, it was absofuckingmazing good.

When he just stood there, his eyes moving over me, I asked softly, “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

His eyes came to mine. His body slanted to the side so his shoulder was resting against the post and he replied, “You, just like that, any man would fight and die for the privilege of comin’ home to that every day.”

My breath left me in a soft, audible “oof”, like Spot had jumped up on my chest.

Raiden wasn’t done.

“Better, she accepts you just as you are, then makes a special coffeecake with apples and doesn’t skimp on the streusel, which is the best part. All that to celebrate you givin’ her your trust and her givin’ hers right back to you.”

Tears crawled up my throat and started clawing the backs of my eyes, so my voice was husky when I whispered, “Raiden.”

“And you know, she learned at the hand of Miss Mildred, the chicken in the oven is gonna rock your world.”

It totally was. Grams taught me everything she knew, but my Mom was also no slouch in the kitchen.

“Please stop talking,” I begged.

He didn’t.

“Fight and die for that privilege, Hanna.”

I swallowed back tears then warned, “If you don’t shut up, you’re going to make me cry.”

Raiden shut up, but didn’t move. He just stood there staring at me.

So I asked what I was going to ask before, “Honey, do you want a beer?”

“I’ll get it.”

“Okay.”

He pushed away from the post and walked into the house.

I did not find the courage to talk to him about my concerns about our morning conversation.

No, the truth was that sharing my concerns didn’t once enter my mind.

* * *

That night…

Raiden was back on his calves, his hips powering up. I was straddling him, back to his front, his arms around me, his hands moving everywhere.

I was unraveling.

His hand slid down then glided across my belly, and not even thinking about it, my hand covered his and slid it up.

Taking mine with it, his slid back down to my belly.

I slid it up.

His hand stilled then glided to my side, down and in. My hand still over his, I felt his middle finger press in, circle. His hips surged up, he filled me, my head flew back, a moan drifted up my throat and I shot to pieces.

* * *

Twenty minutes later…

Naked in Raiden’s arms, I cuddled closer, my eyes drooping, sleep close.

“What was that?” his voice rumbled into me.

“Sorry?” I murmured.

“With your belly, baby.”

I blinked into the dark, suddenly not sleepy in the slightest. “Uh… sorry?”

“Want all-access, Hanna. You got some issues with me touchin’ your stomach?”

Oh God.

“Um…” I mumbled then said no more.

Raiden’s body tensed then pressed into mine so I was on my back and his shadow was looming over me.

Then he grunted, “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Do not wanna ask this shit, but did some fuckwad do somethin’ fucked with your stomach?”

I was baffled by this question so I repeated, “What?”

“Babe, you don’t want it, we won’t do it, but like I said, I want all-access and that might include me comin’ on you. Is that gonna be an issue for you?”

I didn’t answer. My mind was filled with Raiden coming on me, and how if he did that I’d get to watch, and how I kind of wanted to do that immediately.

“Hanna,” he called.

“What?” I answered distractedly.

His hand came up and cupped my jaw. “Honey, talk to me,” he urged gently.

God, he was being sweet and he totally had the wrong end of the stick.

So I found myself blurting, “I have a pouch.”

I watched the shadow of his head twitch and he asked, “You have a what?”

This was not fun in any way.

But I couldn’t have him thinking some “fuckwad” did something “fucked” to my stomach.

“I, um… well, am not exactly toned there like you’re, well… toned… or more like cut, well… everywhere.”

“So?”

I blinked into the dark.

“So?” I repeated.

“Yeah, so?” he asked.

I didn’t know what to do with that question so I remained silent.

Raiden didn’t.

He asked strangely, “Are you shitting me?”

I didn’t know what do to do with that question either. What I did know was I wasn’t shitting him, though I also didn’t know what he thought I was shitting him about.

“Well, no,” I answered, and suddenly his shadow was gone and the bed swayed because his big body landed on its back beside mine.

“Jesus, women are so fuckin’ whacked,” he informed the ceiling.

I pulled the covers up to my chest, lifted up on an elbow and twisted his way.

“Sorry?”

I felt his eyes on me in the dark. “Babe, guys like pussy,” he declared.

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“A woman’s gotta smell good and she needs to take care of herself. By that I mean, she’s gotta wash her hair, shave her legs and work it, whatever it is she’s workin’. Her clothes, the way she does up her face, the way she moves, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. She does that and has a sweet pussy, a guy does not give a fuck and gets off on whatever wraps that package.”

I wasn’t sure that made me feel better and I communicated this by saying a disbelieving, “All right.”

Raiden got up on his elbow to face me, his arm moving to wrap around my waist and haul my lower body against his.

“That’s not entirely true,” he carried on. “Some guys like big tits, some guys don’t give a shit about tits and like a round ass. Some want long legs. Some want short women they can protect or feel like they can dominate. But brass tacks, it’s about the pussy.”

I was sure this didn’t make me feel better, therefore I asked, “So essentially, if it’s female, a man will sleep with it?”

“No, essentially a man won’t fuck anything he doesn’t want and women have got to get it in their heads that if he’s givin’ her his dick, he likes what he’s burying his dick inside.”

Well, that was certainly clear, if crude, and something that again left me with no response.

“Hanna, baby,” his voice had gentled and his arm pulled me closer, “what I’m sayin’ is, we like what we like, we’re drawn to what we’re drawn to and I wouldn’t be fuckin’ you if I didn’t want what you’re givin’ me. All of what you’re givin’ me. You’re pretty. You smell good. You’re legs are fuckin’ amazing. You’ve got great tits. You’re toned and in shape but soft in great fuckin’ places and I like it like that. Add you bein’ cute, dorky, sweet and fuckin’ hilarious, it’s perfect. All of it.”

Okay, that made me feel better.

I thought, for the first time in a long time, about the woman I saw him with, petite and skinny-minnie.

“So, you, uh… like tall and curvy, not short and skinny?” I asked.

“No, I like tits and hair, however those come, but what they gotta come with, what turns me on most, are smells and personality. You might think that’s bullshit, but it’s true. You got all that, but add your legs and I don’t have to court a backache in order to take your mouth, major bonus.”

That absolutely made me feel better so I smiled.

Raiden must have seen it in the dark because he leaned into me, taking me to my back and again loomed over me.

“So, you gonna stop that shit with your stomach?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“All-access?” he pushed.

“Yes, sweetheart,” I promised.

“How about you give that to me now,” he suggested and a pulse pounded between my legs.

“Okay,” I breathed.

“Spread for me, Hanna.”

I opened my legs at the same time I had a minor preliminary orgasm.

Raiden put a hand flat between my breasts, slid it down, glided it over my belly then it dipped between my legs.

My hips lifted and I bit my lip.

He shifted and ordered gruffly, “Wrap your hand around my cock, honey. Jack me off while I play with your pussy.”

Readily, I did what I was told.

I came first.

Five minutes later, Raiden anointed my belly.

And I got to watch.

After cleaning him off me, I fell asleep with Raiden spooning me, big hand splayed at my stomach.

And I fell asleep thinking this was good news for my sundae addiction, I liked my little pouch and I was going to keep it.

* * *

That Friday afternoon…

Grams was sitting on her back porch, feet up, eyes closed. I’d dragged her chair to the end of the porch so she was bathed in sun.

Raiden was at the far end of the backyard with the push mower, its engine droning.

I had a mess of afghans all over Grams’ porch furniture and my basket of ribbons with me. I was folding, tying and tagging them.

Spot was lying on the floor inside the backdoor, his enigmatic kitty face studying my movements. I didn’t know if he wanted me to let him out so I would cease my work and give him cuddles or so he could do his best to draw my blood.

Grams’s house was in the residential area of town, two blocks down from the end of the businesses, one block in. As we were somewhat removed from the big city, not a suburb but not far away, thus we had wildlife, but the scary stuff didn’t stray into town, making clawless Spot a ready-meal should we let him out. Still, we didn’t let him out, just in case.

Therefore, being confined indoors was one of many things that didn’t make Spot happy, and I suspected he was studying me and plotting ways to draw my blood.

“See my precious girl’s decided to play with fire,” Grams told the backs of her eyelids.

I pulled a bow tight on an afghan and looked at her.

Then I looked at Raiden in jeans, a now sweaty tee and running shoes, mowing my grandmother’s lawn.

I looked back at Grams.

“Yeah,” I answered softly.

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled ambiguously.

“It’s not mine to share, what he’s shared with me, Grams, but you were right. He’s dangerous,” I told her.

“Know that, chère,” she replied.

“He’s also worth the risk,” I finished.

Her eyes opened and came to me.

“Talk in town and lots of it. Shocked you and that boy haven’t received your invitations to be grand marshals, sittin’ on a float in the parade the town intends to plan to celebrate your togetherness, what with them bein’ beside themselves with joy their local hero’s courtin’ the town’s sweetest girl.”

I knew she was worried. I didn’t want her to think I was going in with anything but my eyes wide open, but I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that I knew hit my lips.

Grams wasn’t done

“Those in the know about that fire within, that would be his Momma and his baby sister, they got all kinds of faith in you. Especially with Rachelle practically havin’ the menu planned for your wedding and Ruthie Miller grumbling about the bike shop bein’ closed, seein’ as she wanted to buy her boy a bike so he could ride alongside his girl.”

The news of Mrs. Miller and Rachelle approving was so welcome I had to bite my lip so I didn’t break my face smiling huge.

I felt Grams eyes sharpen on me and my smile faded.

“Don’t get ideas. That boy’s behind won’t mount a bike, precious. He might blow one up in a military exercise, but he’s not gonna ride alongside you while you mosey into town and pick up salad fixin’s for dinner.”

This was true. And it was funny.

I beat back the laughter and agreed, “I know, Grams.”

Her voice got sharp when she warned, “Do not take this lightly, child. You knew the danger, you still made a decision, took on this job and now you got people countin’ on you. His Momma, his sister, me, the town and, most importantly, him.”