WARNING: For mature audiences.
“They are asking for you again,” Tiff whispers to me, giving the piece of paper with drink orders to Travis, our bartender. I glance at her, and she gives me a warning look, leaning her hip against the bar table. “You know, this is the fifth time they have requested you. Do you think the boss won’t start to notice?”
I peek at the table she is referring to and look at the men in uniform laugh amongst each other. I then sigh. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
She smirks. “Right.” She takes the empty tray from the counter. “Just… just be careful. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” She’s about to walk past me to head into the kitchen, but then pauses in her step. She leans into me and touches my arm. “At least tell them to touch you. People will get suspicious. They are the only ones that haven’t.” Someone calls her name then, and she walks away.
I smooth down my corset and walk towards the table, kicking away at my skirts. She’s right, unfortunately. If she noticed, anyone would. I would hate to be the talk of the town, branded and beaten for…
I whip out my pen and paper from my apron, ignoring the thought. The closer I get to the table, the richer the twists in my stomach. I attempt to shake off the shiver that slithered along my spine and the colossal warm heat on my cheeks. I take a few deep, steady breaths, hoping to calm the rise in my chest.
“Hello boys!” I smile once I approach the table. “What can I get you?”
The soldiers in uniform were in the middle of a conversation; a story maybe, faded laughter painted on their cheeks. They smile widely at my greeting, and I attempt not to lock eyes with a certain gentleman, one who is currently burning holes into my blood. He’s tempting me to cave, to give in to his heated gaze and that slight tick in his jaw, but he knows I will not give him the satisfaction, especially in front of his men.
“Ah, there she is! We’ve been waiting all night!” One of them beams.
“Oh, come on! Don’t act like we were so desperate! Beautiful ladies, such as herself, don’t like that,” another says.
“You know you’re our favorite. We can’t let anyone serve us now,” Mr. Rick notes.
“I mean, what would it take for us to get you full time? Honestly. I mean no offense, but I don’t think Tiff likes us that much,” the other remarks.
“Well, soldier, that’s probably because you request me every time,” I smile. “Even when my shift is about to end.”
They erupt in a thousand enthusiastic apologies, declaring they didn’t particularly know my shift was ending. I, of course, know this is a lie, but I play along with their banter and giggle at their comments. They begin complimenting my services soon after; how kind and accommodating I am, making jokes about bribing my boss to give me a pay raise, if there was such a thing.
“Careful now,” the certain gentleman warns—voice deep and husky. “She doesn’t have all day.” He looks at them assertively, and the soldiers clear their throats at this. His eyes haven’t once left mine.
I begin taking their orders after the awkward silence subsided, and then finally look at the gentleman who rests his elbow on the armchair, running his finger along his lip. “And for you, sir?”
He tilts his head then, a strand of his dirty blonde hair falling just underneath his brow. He strokes his aftershave as if questioning my motives, his emerald eyes piercing intently into mine. My mouth begins to water as I watch him subtly glimpse at my lips. “You already know, don’t you?”
I ignore my heart hammering inside my chest. If only he didn’t look at me that way, if only his charm didn’t reek through that stupid grin plastered on his face… “Yes, sir. The usual then?”
“The usual,” he winks.
I write down the order on my notepad, attempting not to tremble as I blush. I’m lucky no one can notice my rosy cheeks. My black skin hides it well.
I’m aware of the soldiers’ amused expressions and pointed glances between the two of us. But I refuse to acknowledge the shift. “I will get you boys those drinks in just a moment.”
“Sergeant Williams,” a man suddenly bellows from the middle of the room.
The gentleman and his soldiers immediately stand. They salute the man, the chief, walking towards them. He nods to relieve the soldiers. The rest of them sit in their chairs while the sergeant, the certain gentleman, remains standing.
“Chief,” the gentleman answers.
The chief is about to speak to him but then closes his mouth when he sees me. This old white man, with his beer belly, thick mustache, and parted gray hair, looks at me like I was the intruder, giving me a penetrative stare in obvious disgust.
“Can I get you anything, chief?” I attempt a grin.
He glances at my chest as if this corset wasn’t tight enough and then looks up to meet my eyes. “Bring me another beer.”
I nod at his demand. “Yes, sir.”
I turn to leave, releasing a breath I didn’t know I had.
I pass the orders to Travis, and after asking Tiff where the chief was sitting, bring his table another cup of beer. I watch him continue talking to the gentleman as I buss and clean some tables nearby. The conversation seemed haste, and I see the gentleman nod in confirmation, taking a pair of keys from the chief’s hands. Before I can be spotted for eavesdropping or lingering too close, I carry the tray full of empty dishes and walk into the kitchen. I smile once Mrs. Rooney offers to take them from me, and I watch her walk over to the sink to clean them. I see my mama dicing onions on the counter. She calls out my name right when I’m about to step out.
“Can you get a couple of new glasses out back? It seems some of the soldiers like breaking them,” she says. She doesn’t even look up at me as she throws the onions in a searing hot pan behind her. That’s one of Mama’s many gifts; she knows I’m near without even speaking a word.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say.
I’m greeted with Keisha when I step out.
“Careful!” she exclaims.
I teasingly smile, “Hello to you too.”
She gives me a look, and I laugh at that. I’m about to take both bags from her as I see her struggling with the hold of them, but she shakes her head. “No, you have special customers to serve.”
Of course she heard. Why wouldn’t she? She is my best friend, after all.
I then take the trash bags from her hands anyway, and she releases her grip on my third insist. “It’s okay. It will only take a moment. Besides, my mother asked me to get some glasses outside of storage.”
She rolls her eyes but nods. I ask if she can serve the soldiers their drinks as Travis should be done with them by now. She starts to protest, knowing full well that they only want me. But this isn’t the first time I’ve requested her to take over their table. She had told me of their disappointment when I had to step away. The boys weren’t insulted by the change—I’m sure the gentleman made sure of that— and on my next shift, one of them wanted to know when Keisha was free. Of course, fraternizing with us Black women is frowned upon, illegal. If we worked in a brothel, however, certain laws didn’t apply.
“Fine,” she grunts. She turns on her heels and takes a tray on her way out to the bar.
I then haul these heavy trash bags towards the back, practically dragging them on the floor. I can see why she was struggling, a bead of sweat already dripping from my brow.
I open the door, and the cold air immediately rushes to my face. I’m completely taken aback by it, silently cursing within the wind. As the door shuts behind me, I release a breath, letting myself relax for a moment. I close my eyes and begin listening to the trees rustle in the wind, to the faded howls and laughter coming from various bars in town. Soldiers are chanting along to someone playing the piano, and I realize that must be Mr. Thompson’s doing, while Mr. Garrett plays the sax. The streets are dimly lit from a couple of lamp posts scattered about, but most of this alleyway is swallowed up by the darkness of the night, casting a couple of shadows of empty crates and barren bins.
I sigh and open my eyes, resuming back to my work. I throw the bags in the trash pile with all my might and wipe my hands together to rid the debris. I then open one of the storage wooden doors to the left of me, looking through to find a tray of glass cups sitting on top of other plates and dish bowls.
I suddenly have this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, a twisted knot in the depths of my body. Someone is watching me. The small hairs on the back of my neck stand upright, and I’ve grown alert of their presence behind me, about to approach. Right as I’m close to turning around, a hand quickly comes around to cover my mouth, firmly pressing it against my lips.
“Don’t. Scream,” the man says. I know that voice.
He removes his hand away, and I turn around, pressing my hand against my chest.
“You scared me!” I whisper, looking widely into the gentleman’s, Sergeant Williams’, eyes.
He apologizes, smoothing back his perfectly groomed hair. “I’m sorry. That probably wasn’t the best choice.” He grins, sheepishly.
I calm myself, releasing a sigh. I shake my head in disbelief. “No, it wasn’t.” I furrow my brows. “What are you doing here?”
He gives me his crooked smile, reaching out to brush the back of his fingers against my cheek. I freeze, feeling him gently smooth my skin. “I had to see you, Lena.” I close my eyes for a moment, leaning into his warm touch, the gentle stroke of his fingers. His palm then opens to cup the side of my face, and my mouth slightly parts, becoming aware of the buzz along my bones, loving just how much he affects me. I look at him when his thumb grazes against my bottom lip, watching his tongue lick his. He’s mesmerized by them; aches to feel them against his own. “God, I needed to touch you.”
I then hear more laughter in the distance, quickly snapping out of his trance and moving away. He drops his hand. “You’re taking a big risk,” I warn. “The chief is here. We can’t do this now.” I look past him to see if anyone had seen us. There was no one in sight that I’m aware of, at least.
I turn back to the storage closet, feeling my breaths hitch when I hear him take a couple of steps towards me. I close my eyes again once his fingers slowly skim down my bare arm. He intertwines his fingers in mine. “I wasn’t followed,” he confirms. “Now, come with me. The chief asked me to do something. I don’t have all night before I have to be back.”
I sigh. “Luke, I can’t just leave. I have to take these glasses to my mother.” I pull away and attempt to retrieve a tray from above, getting on my tippy toes to do so.
“I got it,” he says, his body suddenly pressing up against mine from behind, reaching above. He grabs the tray I wanted and carefully handles it over me. He steps back, holding it against his chest.
I thanked him before closing the door. I’m about to explain why I will refuse once more, but then the back door opens. I still at the sound—we both do—spinning around to see who it is.
“Are you alright? You’ve been out here for–” Keisha steps out to see us standing close to each other. She eyes the tray of glass cups in his hands and then looks at me, wide-eyed.
“You folks need to be more careful!” she harshly whispers. “What is wrong with you two?!” She then looks at me, almost in outrage. “Your mother is asking for you.”
I release a breath, watching Luke do the same. I told her about him once I found it difficult to keep it a secret from her. And while she doesn’t particularly approve of our relationship, she’s been the most supportive, following through with the excuses and validating them during our rendezvous’. Though she consistently reminds me she’s not fond of the sergeant. She doesn’t trust his motives and intentions, no matter how hard he tries to persuade her. While I can’t convince her otherwise, he does his best to get her to warm up to him, even when his demeanor can be slightly intimidating.
I look back and forth between him and her. She shakes her head, knowing just what I’m about to ask. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she says. I take the tray from him and attempt to hand them to her. But she backs away, waving her hands in front of her. I plead her to tell my mama that I had been requested to do something for Mr. Jones, just before he locked up the shop. Has Mr. Jones become suspicious of me when I constantly ask him to be my alibi? Sure. But he has never questioned or complained once. When anyone asks about my whereabouts, he has always vouched for me. I insisted on thanking him by running the shop while he cares for his wife and cooking meals for them whenever he lets me. He grew quite fond of Luke at one point, and I’m sure he knows by now why I would be sneaking off with Luke every time he visits the shop.
“You can’t be serious,” she sighs.
“It will only be a little while, Miss Kiesha,” he reassures. “I’ve told my men that I’d be stepping out at the request of the chief. I have to report back anyway. Rick will handle any further speculations if they arise.”
Mr. Rick, his closest friend, his second-in-command. As much as Luke trusts him, he’s not yet confident enough to know what Mr. Rick’s reaction would be if he told him about us. Though, Mr. Rick has a track record for never questioning Luke, even on the battlefield. He has always been kind to me, I’m sure Luke might have insisted on that. He always tilts his head and greets me whenever we pass each other, once helped me carry groceries for Mr. Jones.
She’s annoyed, I can tell, and she doesn’t hide it well. Her nose is scrunched up, her eyebrows are furrowed, and her mouth is pouted; all of which are directed towards Luke. I was about to tell her I would do any favor she asks, but then she takes the tray of glasses from my hands instead. “Fine,” she grunts. “You are lucky I’m such a good friend.”
“The best!” I immediately kiss her on the cheek and thanked her profusely. I untie my apron as well and place it on the tray.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You kids have fun.”
Luke bows his head. “Thank you, Miss Keisha. If you need anything–”
Her eyes roll back again. “Oh, don’t be a kiss-ass, Mr. Williams. I still don’t like you. Just hurry back.”
He nods, pulling me towards him and leading down the alleyway, away from Keisha’s smirk and murmurs.
“I think she’s warming up to me,” Luke jokes.
I giggle at that.
~~~
We run across dirt roads in haste, Luke scoping out our surroundings to make sure we aren’t being seen. I let go of his hand so I could lift up my skirts to maneuver quicker, both of us lurking in the shadows and avoiding any lamp posts. Before I asked where we were going, he said we were heading towards the chief’s office. Looks like the chief is unsure and particularly too drunk to know if he locked up for the night. He trusts Sergeant Williams enough to give him his keys and orders him to secure the premises.
Luke has been highly praised for his duties and leadership; I heard he saved a few men on the battlefield. He’s been celebrated and highly recognized by the chief over the past few weeks, so much so that he hopes for a promotion and refuses to turn down simple favors such as this one. He wanted to leave this station, he once told me. And take me with him.
We walk against the back of a closed shop, and he stops me before moving forward, hearing people laugh as they pass the front of it. When their footsteps faded, he continued, and I followed close behind.
“You know, your men need to start touching me,” I blurt out.
He pauses in his step, and I almost run into him. Without a thought, he takes my hand and pulls me close to a nearby tree to hide us behind it. “Excuse me?”
“People are starting to notice Luke,” I hiss. “At least Tiff is. You are the only table that doesn’t touch me and–”
“You mean harass you? I will not have my men harass you, Lena.” His quiet stern voice causes me to swallow, and his lips are cut in a straight line.
“I can’t have my boss–” I begin to say, but the sergeant interrupts.
“I will handle your boss,” his square jaw ticks. “I told my men that they can look at you, but they cannot and will not touch you or any women you work with. That was an order. Those are not the types of men I lead. That is not what I stand for. If people have a problem with that, then they will have to answer to me. Is that understood?”
“But–“
“Is that understood?” He eyes me.
I close my mouth and sigh. There is no winning him on this. Fortunately—and unfortunately—he respects me too much. I nod.
“Good,” he says. He then uses his thumb to lift up my chin, having me look at his possessive, sincere emerald eyes. “And they will not touch what I love.”
He then intertwines his fingers with my own before I can speak and leads me to the chief’s office just across the road. He looks both ways before running past the lamp post to stand in front of the cabin. Just when we were going to up the steps, we heard a few footsteps coming from around the corner of another. He quickly whispers for me to scurry to the back of the office. He will let me in once it’s clear.
I take hold of my skirts and do just that, snapping a couple of twigs along the way, feeling the cold slice through my hot cheeks in adrenaline. I stand behind the back door and look around, making sure I was alone.
I hear Luke walk up the steps of the chief’s cabin and jingle the keys. He opens the door but doesn’t step in right away. I hear murmured voices from afar.
“You’re relieved,” Luke commands. “Yes, just doing a favor for the chief. Ah, headed to the barracks? Y’all have a good night.”
I then hear footsteps fading, soldiers chanting a war anthem across the field. A door shuts, and I hear shuffling inside, boots tap along the floors, getting closer to the back. The back door unlocks, and Luke lets me in.
“Well, he locked the back door, but not the front,” he confirms.
He helps me walk up a couple of wooden steps, and I settle inside, loving how the warmth of the cabin immediately heats my body. He shuts and locks the door behind me, and I let him move past me so he can do his rounds.
I realize I’ve never been inside the chief’s office, truly anyway. I smooth out my skirts and walk across the floorboards, the heels of my shoes creaking against the wood. To the right of me is the chief’s personal office, which looks to be one, anyway. It’s a separate room from the main one; a small desk with papers spread across the surface, file cabinets stored, and stacked in the corners. There are several picture frames facing his leather office chair, and I can only assume those are photos of his family; his children from his first wife, and the other from his second. If the window was open, I’m sure you can see a view of the barracks and some of the woods that cover a field.
To the left are other small offices as well, one held for a storage space, another with an empty desk and file cabinets, no name on the door. That could be a space for the captain, but I can’t be too sure.
Luke announces that he’ll lock up the other offices on the other side first, and he begins to shut some doors. He then comes around from behind, touching my waist and kissing the back of my neck. He excuses himself and moves past me so he can secure and lock up the chief’s personal office.
I nod and walk further ahead to wander the main one. Its vast open space is meant to serve as a lobby/office area; a couple of chairs pushed up against the wall by the entrance, the American flag hanging from a pole in the corner, a clock just above the door. There are glass windows on both sides of this room, all shut and closed, while a large wooden desk sits in the center. It’s fully clean and wiped down, aside from the phone, a few binders and folders stationed neatly in corners, and the chief’s name plate placed in the front. The wall behind the desk is plastered with the military logo, painted perfectly, almost quite strategically.
I hear a door shut and watch Luke lock it with the keys. I wanted to ask where we would go next after he secured the office. But when he turns to me, there is a sudden change to his demeanor.
His jaw flexes, his eyes harden, and the air abruptly thickens between us, growing tense by the minute. He glimpses at my chest, rising and falling against my corset, my cleavage becoming more exposed as he watches it. He then places the keys in his pocket and raises his chin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he swallowed.
“Lock the door,” he demands.
I widened my eyes in shock. “What?”
He looks at the front door behind me, his voice deepening, pronouncing every word with intention. “Lock. The. Door.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and slowly spin around to walk towards the door. Every step I take compliments the ticking sounds on the clock. And once I twist the lock to the left, the soft click of it echoed in the room. I try to ignore my pulsating heart when I face the sergeant, as if the organ has jumped to my ears. He’s now standing against the wall next to the logo. He calls me towards him, raises his chin, and I do what I’m told.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers to me. “All day, you’ve been torturing me.” He steps forward, closing the distance between us, and I back up against the desk. His mouth hovers over mine, his hand curving around my waist. He tilts up my chin, feeling his hot breath linger on my tongue, letting my plump lips graze his. “Do you trust me, love?” He fleshes his body against mine, and he briefly kisses me, pulling slightly away when I lean in for more. “Do you?”
I breathlessly kiss him, biting my bottom lip once he teasingly pulls away again. “Yes,” I answer. I feel his hands drop to the back of my thighs, and he lifts me up, sitting my bottom on the edge of the desk. My legs casually spread open for him, letting him position himself between them.
“Yes, what?” he whispers. He cups the side of my neck so he can kiss me, his tongue finally swirling against my own. I quietly moan, opening my mouth wider so I can fully taste him. He tugs on my lip between his teeth and kisses down my jaw. “Yes, what?” he repeats.
I gasp when he sucks the spot on my throat. “Yes, sir.”
He licks up the length of it to gently kiss the back of my ear. “Lift up your skirts,” he demands.
He kisses me again, untying the front strings of my corset. He cups my breast through the fabric and moves down to kiss the tops of them. He suddenly rips one side of the fabric down and exposes my nipple to the cold. His mouth closes around it and profusely sucks in the bud. We both release a moan, tilting my head back, loving how his hooded eyes look up at me, my nipple hardening against his tongue. He orders me to lift up my skirts again, and I fumble with the fabrics, becoming frantic with anticipation, doing my best to bunch them up to my hips. He then kneels in front of me, mouth agape once he sees what he’s done to me.
“I’m going to need you to be quiet,” he says, eyes lusting with hunger while he gazes at the spot between my legs. “If you don’t, I’ll stop. Understood?”
He looks up at me, his fingers caressing me there. He easily slips one inside of me, and I gasp at that, biting hard on my bottom lip to keep myself from moaning. “Ye…Yes…Yes, sir,” I nod.
He lowers his head in between my legs, gently kissing my inner thighs. He then licks up what drips and begins to suck and swallow every bit of me, practically starving. I cup my mouth and attempt not to cry out, gripping the strands of his hair, riding every sensation he has on my body. He murmurs and whispers dirty phrases into the air, repositions my legs so they drape over his shoulders, rest along his back. He firmly pins down my hips at the edge of the desk, his tongue deepening inside of me. I whimper in approval against my hand; my eyes rolling, chest rising, back arching. He reaches up to massage my exposed breast, then pinches my nipple while he continues to savor the taste of me.
Just as my body begins to tremble, nearly on the brink of ecstasy, he immediately pulls away and quickly undoes his trousers, both of us becoming erratic, animalistic. He flips me around and bends me over the desk. The folders fall to the floor once he begins to thrust, and he takes hold of my throat, pulling me up against him, his mouth sucking the skin on my neck.
“Runaway with me,” he whispers through gritted teeth.
My eyes widen. “What?” I pant.
I tangle my fingers in his hair behind me, getting lost in the pleasure of his movements. “Runaway with me,” he repeats in my ear. He slows his pace then, needing me to feel every inch, to come back to the present.
I gasp his name when he angles himself, attempting to hear his words. “Luke. We…we can’t just leave. What…what are you…saying? What about your…promotion?”
“I love you,” he declares, his dominance dwindling away. “I love you so much. I can’t bear it. I can’t sleep, I can’t think. I want to build a life with you, Lena. I want to build a life together. I’ll take you away from here. We can just be us. No rules. No laws. Just us.”
I find myself speeding up our movements, pushing back against him. “Oh, Luke. I Iove you too. You know I do. God, I…fuckin’ love you, Luke.” I’m almost there. He knows it, feels it.
“Please, love,” he begs, thrusting harder, becoming rougher. “Please, baby. Runaway with me. Please. I need you. Come with me, Lena. Marry me.”
I’m about to convulse against him, I’m about to say yes, but I abruptly hear footsteps outside the cabin.
We freeze, immediately halting our movements. It can’t be the chief. It can’t be the-
We hear a knock on the door. “Sergeant Williams?”
It’s the chief!
Luke instantly pulls out of me, and I jerk down my skirts. We quickly fix ourselves in panic; Luke drawing up his trousers as I adjust my breast back into my corset. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…
“Sergeant,” he knocks again, jiggling the handle.
“Yes, sir. I’m just finishing up. I’ll be right out!” Luke says.
I look at Luke wide-eyed as he smoothes back his hair and uniform, gathering the folders on the floor. He places them back on the desk where we found them and repositions them neatly as if they weren’t disturbed. He then grasps my shoulders and orders me to look at him, attempting to calm me down. I hadn’t noticed I’ve been shaking. When did I start shaking? “Look at me. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get rid of him,” he whispers. He shakes me a little so I can refocus my attention on him. “Go to the back and hide behind the wall of the last office. Unlock the back door, and when I shut the door behind me, you run out the back, you hear me? Meet me at our spot in the meadow. You understand?” I nod quickly. He gently shakes my shoulders again and places his hands on both sides of my neck. He asks me to repeat what he just said. I nod, echoing his words back to him. He kisses the top of my forehead, tells me he loves me, and then nudges me forward to go.
I walk to the back, trying to quiet my own footsteps, and hide behind the wall of last office space. I put my hand against my chest and close my eyes, attempting to calm my pounding heart, the throbbing pulse inside my ears.
The chief jiggles the handle once more, and I hear Luke walk towards the front door. He unlocks and opens it with ease. “Chief. I was just finishing up,” he confirms with no hint of strain in his tone. He’s so good at that.
The chief is clearly not at his best, slightly slurring his vowels, but ultimately, demanded what was taking Luke so long. He then makes up an excuse about being stalled by some rowdy soldiers, and that’s when I hear the door shut.
With my adrenaline kicking, I immediately open the back door and quietly close it behind me. I pause, hearing Luke and the chief talking out front. Luke tells the chief he needs to double check the back door, chuckling about there being no harm in being overly cautious. The chief says something about following, and I briskly walk down the steps to make a break for the woods in front of me. But just as I lift up my skirts to do so, a callous hand presses over my mouth. I widen my eyes, attempting to pry their fingers away and scream against it for Luke.
“Don’t. Make. A. Sound,” Mr. Rick whispers into my ear.
He then drags me back into the woods with him, just when Luke and the chief arrive.
“Who was that?” the chief asks.
To Be Continued…
