"You up?"

Morgan read over the text message, blinking her eyes as they adjusted to the bright light of the screen. It was late in the evening - hours after she'd come inside from her nightly beer with Char. She and Justin had traded text messages for awhile before he had to head off on patrol and she laid down to get some sleep. Now it was nearing 2am -more than an hour after they'd said goodnight- and he was back again.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I'm bored," he wrote. "Come talk to me."

Morgan sighed, thinking it over. On one hand she wanted too. She liked talking to Justin, obviously. She wanted to spend as much time getting to know him as possible. But then again, she really should stay in bed. She had an early day tomorrow, and a million things to do. She didn't have time to be running around talking to Justin all night.

"I don't know," she told him. "It's really late."

"Pleeeeeease :) Come on, I'm already outside."

Morgan snorted and rolled her eyes at his smiley face- although it was slightly adorable. Climbing from the bed she peeked between the blinds masking her window facing out to the porch. In the distance she could see his tall frame stalking across the lawn camouflaged by the dark.

"Be out in a second."

She scurried into the closet, grabbing her pink and white polka dot bathrobe off a hook on the wall. The grey shorts and teal tank top she was wearing to sleep in would have to do. On her way through the living room Morgan stuck her head in Chloe's door, finding the little girl laying peacefully in bed with her thumb in her mouth. Morgan smiled, quietly pulling the door shut again and heading outside to meet Justin.

When she opened the door he was already standing on the porch, tapping his boots against the wooden floorboards. His head lifted at the sound of the door hinges, and he made his way over to her, enveloping her in a hug before stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the railing.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What are you doing?"

Justin shrugged, looking around the empty yard.

"Not much," he said. "Just waiting to get off."

Morgan snorted, but didn't speak. Justin shook his head with a grin.

"Dirty girl. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"I'm sorry. Char is a bad influence."

"Sure, blame her," he teased.

Morgan leaned back against the wall opposite him and hugged her robe tighter around her body.

"What were you doing?" He asked.

"I was trying to sleep, but this crazy white boy won't stay off my phone."

Justin sucked his teeth.

"Damn white boys; always causing problems."

Morgan giggled.

"I know. Always trying to keep a sista down. I have to ton of shit to do tomorrow."

"Shame. What are you going to do about this guy?"

"I don't know yet; haven't decided. Sometimes it's nice having him around, and he is kind of cute."

"Yeah. But, he keeps you up late."

"True. I do need my beauty sleep."

"Yep."

Morgan's jaw dropped and she stared at him. Justin took in her expression and burst out in laughter. She looked genuinely shocked and offended. Her eyes narrowed into little slits when he started to laugh, and she threw a half-hearted punch at his arm.

"Jerk."

"I had too," he smiled. "Your face was priceless."

"So glad my beauty sleep was interrupted at two in the morning so I could stand outside and be entertainment."

Justin straightened up, his face turning serious again.

"Okay, listen," he said. "It's not too busy right now. If you want I could come in and keep you company - make sure that guy doesn't bother you anymore tonight."

Morgan lowered her head and looked at him through her lashes with an expression that clearly read: you've got to be kidding.

"Come on," he coaxed. "I'll protect you."

Inside Morgan's already overworked heart picked up pace. She was no dummy, she knew what he was hinting at. His pleas for her to come talk outside had been a ploy just to get to this moment right here. On the plus side at least now she didn't have to wonder about being bad in bed. But, just because he offered didn't necessarily make it a good idea. Before she'd had the excuse of being drunk to justify her actions. This time it would be straight up stupidity and primal desire.

"Really? Will you tuck me in and tell me a bedtime story too?"

This time it was Justin's turn to laugh. He stepped close to her - his smell of musk and dirt invading her senses. His voice was deep and overly cocky when he spoke again.

"Oh, I'll put you to bed alright. Get your ass inside."

Morgan chuckled nervously, following his instructions and stepping back into the dark apartment. This Marine had so many layers. He was cold while working, flirtatious over text, and dominating in bed. Never in a million years did she picture herself as being the type of woman who let a man boss her around. Especially after getting away from Devon, Morgan didn't like anyone telling her what to do. But, Justin -for some reason- was different. Every comment he made he ended with his trademark, heart-stopping smile. That alone was enough to make her do anything he wanted. Aside from that there was the daringly sexy way in which he said it. He just stated it. There was no "please", no negotiating, just a command that he expected to be followed. His time in the military had obviously done a lot for his self-esteem. He was confident and secure. His confidence only made her want to obey him more.

Once they'd passed over the threshold and into the apartment she heard the door close and lock behind her.

"Where's Chloe?" He whispered.

"Sleeping."

"Ah. White boy's not bothering her?"

"Not at the moment, no."

Silently he followed her to the hall that extended into her bedroom. When they were far enough away from Chloe's room he broke the silence with his radio.

"Timberlake to office."

It took a second for Dale's scratchy voice to answer.

"This is office."

"There's some noise in the back lot. I'm gonna check it out. Radio if you need me."

"10-4, Hotshot."

Justin rolled his eyes, not bothering to press the talk button and respond.

"I hate that guy."

Morgan moved to the foot of her bed and turned to look at him. He'd pulled his gun from the holster and set it on the dresser, and was working on undoing the buckle to his belt.

"Dale isn't so bad," she said. "Where's Tim?"

"Took the night off for his and Tamara's anniversary."

"Awe, that's sweet."

Justin eyed her, his eyes taking a long, slow drag down her body; from her soft hair, past her polka dot bathrobe, to her polished toenails. His movements were slow and calculated as he stepped over to her and gave a rough shove to her shoulders. She fell back onto the bed with a shriek. He stood there, the lights from the walkway outside shining in through the blinds and bouncing off the nametag on his shirt.

"Mmhmm. Very."

Without another word he climbed on top of her, pinned her to the mattress with his weight and covered her lips with his. His hands - growing more brazen by the day - parted her bathrobe and slipped under her tank top. They were freezing cold against her stomach because of the cold night air; but they left hot trails on her skin as he slipped his arms around her, cuddling her even closer. Morgan pulled back, separating their lips by mere millimeters.

"How long do you think you have before Dale starts looking for you?"

"About a half hour."

"We better make the most of it."

Justin didn't reply, he just smiled and leaned in to kiss her again.

Twenty-five minutes later the room was quiet, save for the rustling of Justin's clothes as he pulled his uniform back on. Morgan was laying on the bed. Her ebony locks were sweaty and tangled, splayed out across the white pillowcases. The blanket was pulled up to her waist, and the sheet was over her bare breasts. She was laying on her side, watching the guard as he dressed. His heavy black pants were back on, and he was working on the velcro straps of his bulletproof vest. The rest of his uniform was in a loose pile on the floor by his boots. When he was done with the vest he reached down for his shirt and clip-on radio, knocking his belt to the side. Morgan's eyes flashed to the dresser where the faint outline of his gun lay.

"What kind of gun do you carry?" Morgan asked meekly.

She'd never given much thought to his gun before, but her previous conversation with Char had sparked a slight interest. It would be a small comfort to have around in case of a real emergency.

"A glock 23."

"Is that big?"

"It's a .40 cal."

"Is that big?"

He chuckled, flipping his shirt right side out and sliding it on.

"Big enough."

Morgan was quiet for a moment, choosing her words and working up the courage to say them.

"Can I hold it?"

Her eyes could barely make out the outline of his form, but she knew he'd frozen by the lack of rustling.

"No."

"Please?"

"Why?"

"I don't know, I just want too. I've never seen one before. Well, not up close anyway."

A beat passed and he didn't speak, so Morgan assumed he was sticking with his original answer. She was about to roll over and try to ease the growing ache in her hips when a short series of clanks rose through the air. It was the obvious sound of metal on metal; the trademark sliding of a gun hammer. Then his arm appeared in front of her, holding out a shiny dark mass.

It took Morgan a moment to reach for it, her hand a little unsteady as she did. He'd cleared the chamber and removed the clip so there was no way for her to hurt herself, but to her it still seemed like a snake coiled and ready to strike at any moment. It was heavier than expected - cold and hard beneath her fingertips. She could sense the power it possessed.

Sitting up in bed, Morgan tucked the sheet under her arms and held the gun in both hands to examine every inch. The bed dipped when Justin sat down beside her, doing up the laces on his boots.

"Since when are you interested in guns?"

"Char and I were talking about Devon yesterday. She thought maybe getting one would be a good idea."

"Have you ever fired one before?"

"No."

She didn't even have to look at him to see the smile on his face.

"Perhaps you should start with that?"

"Maybe. How much do these cost?"

"Depends on what size you want. Anywhere between three-hundred and seven-hundred bucks."

"Oh."

Justin finished his right boot, and turned to his left, his eyes finding her in the dark. She was still sitting there staring down at the empty gun.

"Are you really serious about this?"

"It's just an idea. I want to protect myself."

Her voice was soft and unsure as she spoke. Justin's mind flashed back to the night a few weeks ago when he'd watched Devon assault her on the porch. His heart had stopped dead and dropped to his stomach. Fighting wars overseas, he'd seen plenty of women falls victims to the brutal hands of the men around them. The very ones who had promised to take care of them hit them, tortured them, and terrorized them. It was sad to see that the country he was laying his life on the line for was infected with the same kind of disgusting men. He could understand Morgan's fear and her instincts to protect herself and her daughter, because when men like this weren't dealt with they just became worse and worse.

Justin held his hand out, taking his gun back and locking it into the holster.

"If you're really interested, I'll teach you how to shoot. But, you need a lock box to keep it safe from Chloe. Preferably a combination lock, that way there's no key for her to find."

"Okay. Thanks."

Justin went back to his boots, tightening the laces. Morgan watched in silence as he tied the knot. He could feel her eyes on him, and he knew she wasn't talking because she was deep in thought. The worry was radiating off of her. When he was done, he put a hand on her head, petting her curls.

"Get some sleep," he told her. "It's late."

Morgan nodded, and Justin leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead. His thumb smoothed over her cheek as his lips pressed against her skin. When he sat back Morgan relaxed into the bed, her head sinking into the plush pillows. Justin pulled the blankets up and tucked them in around her. Then he rose from the bed and started to leave the room. Before he got too far away, he stopped short and turned back to her.

"You know that I meant what I said earlier, right?" He asked. "I will protect you."

"I know," she said.

He stood there for the second, not moving or speaking. His mind was reeling over what he'd just said. It wasn't every day that he offered to look after someone. Sure, he did it on a daily basis, but that was because the money was good and he got to play with guns. For him to offer to take care of someone they had to be special to him.

When the quiet got to be too much he cleared his throat.

"I'll lock up," he said. And with that he turned and left the room. A moment later Morgan heard the front door open and shut, then his boots descending the porch steps.

***

Justin paced back and forth behind his platoon as they lay positioned on the ground firing their weapons. It was Sunday morning during drill weekend, and they were going through an exercise at the rifle range. The Marine Corps were known for their accuracy and marksmanship. Every Marine was expected to be a riflemen first and foremost.

They had finished assembling their M16's and now they were on the practice range. He continued to pace back and forth as the row of privates aimed their rifles toward the designated targets a couple hundred feet in the distance. His eyes scanned over the men until they came to a stop on something that caught his eye. PFC Strickland was fumbling with his rifle, adjusting it on his shoulder and taking forever to line up his target. Justin stood behind him for a second as he watched the Private First Class struggle, then he let out a dramatic sigh.

"Sergeant Michaels!” He called out to one of platoon leaders.

The sergeant jogged over from his post at the other end of the range and stood at-ease in front of Staff Sergeant Timberlake.

“Yes sir?”

“Do I have Marines in my platoon that don’t know how to use a damn rifle?!”

He motioned with his head down toward the private on the ground, and then walked away. That was all it took for him to get things done around here. Behind him he could hear the sergeant yelling at the Marine on the ground, ripping him a new one in front of the group.

Rifle safety was something that the Marine Corps were very strict about, because it was easy to injure yourself as well as others if you weren’t careful. Training exercises were done using live ammunition, so it was important to know the ins and outs of all the weaponry being used. Accurate repetition led to muscle memory, and muscle memory was incredibly important in a combat setting.

Justin stood back, folding his hands behind his back and resumed watching the rest of the men. Before anyone could resume firing, a gun went off. The bullet ricocheted off the beams supporting the tarp providing shade of their heads. The snapping sound caused everyone who wasn’t already on the ground to drop fast - a byproduct of previous military experience. A hiss meant the bullet was close but not dangerous, a snap meant you needed to get out of the way fast.

The Staff Sergeants chest hit the ground, a cloud of dirt flying up around him. His mind flashed back to a day almost 7 years ago.

Loud booms echoed through the air, the impact of flying grenades signaled by the dust and debris they sent into the air. Shots were coming from every direction, the clanking of rounds as they ejected from the barrel was deafening. The smell of gun powder was thick. Various Marines were scattered around the field with hand-held M60 machine guns, each putting out about 200 rounds a minute. The vehicle mounted M24 machine guns fired a devastating 500 rounds per minute each. Somewhere off in the distance a team was operating the M48 grenade launcher, dropping more than 12 miniature bombs every 60 seconds.
 

"Get down! Get your fucking head down!!" The drill sergeant was yelling. "Is there something about that thick skull of yours I don't Timberlake?! Is it bullet proof?!"
 

"No sir!" A ragged Justin answered. 

"Then get your face in the dirt!"
 

"Yes sir!"
 

He spoke the words but inside he rolled his eyes. They'd been training since 4am, and it was well past noon now. They hadn't had much of anything to eat or drink - just constant physical activity and yelling. Crawling through the mud of this obstacle course was the closest thing they'd had to a break so far. The mud was coating his clothes, seeping into his pants and sliding under his shirt. How much further down on the ground did this instructor expect him to get?
 

"Buford, what the hell is your problem?!"
 

Thank God, the instructor turned his attention to one of the other recruits. Buford had been shipped to Pendleton from Utah, and his constant screw ups were a favorite target of the drill sergeants. Buford was hobbling as fast as he could from the wall climb toward the mud pits. He was out of breath and in obvious pain.
 

"Sir, nothing, sir. I just hurt my ankle coming over that wall, sir."
 

"Boo hoo Buford," the instructor pretended to rub his eyes. "Do you want me to go call your Mommy to come get you?"
 

"No sir."
 

"Do I need to have a pretty little nurse come out here and hold an ice pack on it for you?"
 

"No sir." 

"I think I should, because apparently I have a pack of fragile little baby dolls for recruits."
 

"Sir, no sir."
 

"Then get down there and get the led out, Sensitive Susie!"
 

Buford dropped to his knees instantly, slithering through the mud in the tracks of the men ahead. 

"Timberlake, if I have to tell you to get your fucking head down again I'm gonna blow it off myself!"
 

"Yes sir!"
 

"What's the key to survival men?!"
 

Robson, an over-achieving brown-noser trying to earn a spot as team leader sat up on his knees a few feet ahead of Justin.
 

"Sir, the key to survival is staying out of the line of fire, si-."
 

Before Robson could finish his answer a bullet sank into the right side of his neck, exploding out of his left cheek. Pink mist mixed with the dirt floating in the air. 

"Cease fire!! Cease fire!!" The drill sergeant was screaming as he ran to the team operating the nearby 50 cal machine gun. 

Robson's body stayed upright for a moment, and Justin heard him gurgle and groan as if trying to speak before finally slumping over into a lifeless mass. Justin was frozen in shock. They weren't even two weeks into boot camp yet. Pendleton was far from the front lines of the fighting in the Middle East. No one was supposed to be dying here. 

Justin reached up, wiping the mud from his face as he watched Robson's body. A red puddle had begun to form underneath him and soak into the ground. When Justin pulled his hand away he looked down at his fingers, his eye brows raising when he took sight of the smeared red lines. Robson's blood was splattered all over him. He looked over at Becks who had been crawling ahead. Beck's eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at the blood on his own pants. Then he looked over at his friend Chad. His face was dotted with red drops. They were all stained in Robson's blood.
 

"Stupid bastard!" The instructor was yelling, making his way back over to the recruits. 

The field had gone silent now, everyone in shock over what had just happened. The Marines stayed on the ground, traumatized and afraid to move. The drill sergeant was pacing -visibly upset- as he waited for emergency personnel to arrive. 

"You stupid fucking bastard!" He yelled at Robson's body. "Why can't you follow orders?! What did I keep telling all of you?! Keep your God damned heads down!!"

Justin looked up, seeing the same private he'd just had reprimanded standing there holding his rifle. His face was frozen in shock, his eyes absolutely petrified. He'd fired the weapon on accident, and now he knew his CO was going to have his ass for breakfast.

“Is everyone okay!?” Sgt. Michaels called out as they all began to get up from the ground.

Justin shot up in a burst of anger, stomping over to the Marine whose gun had gone off.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

“Sir..I—I.”

Justin grabbed hold of private's neck and threw him down onto the ground, pressing his knee into his chest as he pinned him down.

“Do you realize that you could have blown your fucking face off!? Not to mention mine?"

The Marine underneath him began to tremble within, but he dared not show it.

"I'm gonna tell you this once Private, and that's it," Justin said. "Incompetent, retarded ass pansies don't survive in my platoon! Either shape up, or I'll make sure you ship out.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

At this point Justin was sweating and panting heavily as the rest of the men stared. He could feel the eyes on him, wondering what he was going to do or say next. Anywhere else in the world one of these guys would have probably tried to come to the privates aid. But in this world - the military world - you don't dare try to tell a higher ranking officer what to do. Besides, these guys didn't see what Justin had just seen; didn't feel what he'd just felt. They had no idea what it was like.

Justin looked around and then stood up roughly. The man he'd been pinning down groaned and reached up to hold his chest. Justin suddenly felt like the weight of the world was coming down on his shoulders - suffocating the life out of him. He needed to get away from here.

"Get him out of my face, and get back on those targets!” He shouted, making his way off the field.

There were only a couple hours of drill left, and Justin was no longer in the mood to participate in any of it. He kicked open the door to the locker room, huffing and puffing so hard one would expect to see a cloud of smoke exhale from his lungs. He yanked his shirt over his head and threw it against the metal sink before dropping down on to the bench and holding his head in his hands. He was sick of the flashbacks, and the migraines that came along with them.

Getting back to his feet Justin went over to his locker and grabbed his duffel bag; searching through it until he found what he was looking over. He pulled out his orange pill bottle and popped two into his mouth, washing it down with some water from a nearby fountain. When he stood up he saw himself in the mirrors above the sink. His brow was covered in sweat. The veins on the side of his neck were pulsating. His blue eyes were now red and glossy.

He knew that he had to be more disciplined about taking his medication - especially if he wanted to be around Morgan more often. He didn’t want her to see him freak out and go into combat mode while they were together - especially if Chloe was around. He definitely didn’t want to scare them. He just hated to take the medication because it made him feel so unlike himself. Aside from bringing the stigma that you'd lost your mind, it also made everything feel foggy and surreal.

With a sigh Justin took a moment to regain his composure and then went to the showers. When he was done he threw on a fresh pair of boxers, a clean undershirt, his desert camie uniform, and headed out the door. It was another 20 minutes before he passed through the gates and pulled off base onto the main road. There was a stretch of empty fields for the next mile or so until displays for tire repair shops and fast food restaurants signaled your arrival in town. It was around 4pm on Sunday afternoon, and traffic was light on the street. Justin's hand tightened on the steering wheel, twisting against the leather. He was calmer now, after his shower; the pills must have started to kick in. But he still felt riled up inside, like a caged panther that had been pacing its cage all day waiting for a moment to run free.

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel he retrieved his phone out of his pants pocket. His eyes shifted back and forth between the road and his phone as he went through his messages until he found Morgan’s name. When his rolled up to a red light he quickly send a text.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

He dropped the phone on his lap when the light turned green. By the time he got to the next one there was already a reply waiting for him.

"Just cleaning. What's up?”

"Nothing, just getting out of drill. Got plans later?"

"Nope. Off today, remember?"

"I do."

He smiled, recalling their conversation from the night before. Normally he had to make two or three rounds of bed checks when his unit met for drill weekends. The recent advancements in technology made it hard to keep the men focused. They kept each other up all night in the dorms with the dings, chimes, and bright lights from their cell phones. Other guys clogged the bathrooms as they hogged the mirrors to take pictures for Facebook and girlfriends across the country. But this weekend he hadn't done any bed checks at all. While the guys groaned and moaned at each other to 'shut up' all night he was holed up in his own room trading messages with Morgan. They talked about Chloe's tantrum when it was time to clean her room, and what a useless piece of garbage Devon had been so far as a father. Then they talked about the Marine Corps, and the places Justin had travelled to so far. He'd already been to all the places she'd wanted to see, but that didn't mean he wouldn't mind going again as a tourist with her.

"Want some company?”

“Sure, I'd like that.”

“On the way.”

Morgan placed her phone down on the counter and quickly began to mop the rest of her kitchen floor. She was in full-on cleaning mode in an old pair of bleach-spotted sweat pants, a raggedy tee shirt, and her hair pulled up into a high ponytail covered by a bandana.

When the floor was finished she hurriedly placed all the cleaning supplies back in the closet and bee lined it to the bathroom to wash the scent of pine sol and bleach from her body. She knew that she had a good twenty minutes to make herself look presentable before he arrived. She was glad she'd taken the time out last night to shave all over - not thinking that he would come over today, but just as a part of her usual weekly maintenance.

She rinsed her body off with her favorite vanilla cinnamon body wash. It made her skin feel soft and smooth, and the scent lasted almost all day. Once she was satisfied at her cleanliness she wrapped a towel around her body and headed to her bedroom to find something nice to wear. She wanted to look good, but not too good. After a few minutes of shifting through hangers she decided on a simple lavender colored strapless sun dress that fell just above her knees showing off her long creamy brown legs. She slipped it on over her pink and white pinstripe underwear set and began to tousle her hair a bit. She skipped the make-up because it was warm and she didn't want to look too done-up. But, she did apply a bit of a sheer shimmery lip gloss to her lips and put a pair of studs to her ears.

Morgan was growing more and more nervous by the minute as she continued to play with her hair. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him before. Hell, she'd had sex with him before. But every time she saw him it made her heart beat double fast like it was the first time all over again. Her interest him had grown exponentially. Justin was turning out to be much more charming, intelligent, and funny than she'd anticipated. He'd travelled all over the world, and seen a lot of things. He listened to her silly stories about Chloe, and told her all the great, supportive things she needed to hear in regards to her court battle with Devon. Morgan had never met a man like him before; he seemed almost too good to be true.

Unsatisfied with her hair, Morgan eventually added a couple of loose curls and let it hang down over her shoulders. As she was spraying a little bit of vanilla body spray she noticed her hands beginning to tremble. Her stomach was jumpy, as if filled with dozens of butterflies. She didn't know whether to throw up, take a few deep breaths, or do a shot of Jack Daniels.

Before she could decide there were a couple of quick knocks at the door. Her pulse only went up, and the trembling in her hands got worse.

“Calm down Morgan,” she whispered to herself.

She couldn’t believe how childish she was being. He was just a man. It was one thing for him to make her nervous, but this was just ridiculous.

As she made her way out of the bedroom and to the front door, she smoothed her slender fingers over her dress and through her hair once more. The knock sounded again as she peeked through the curtain to make sure it was him. When she opened the door her eyes widened as she took in his entire frame. Through the window, she'd only glanced briefly enough to recognize his face; she'd failed to distinguish the difference in his attire.

“Hi,” she said softly.

Morgan stepped to the side and Justin stepped into the apartment, his eyes roaming over her.

“Hey.”

She was absolutely stunning. Her skin was glowing, shimmering, glistening - whatever you could call it. It looked so smooth he wanted to reach out and run his hands all over her body. She smelled like something sweet and warm; like she'd stepped straight out of a bakery. To her he smelled like fresh air and mud.

“Wo-would you like something to drink? I have Pepsi, water, juice....”

Morgan stuttered a bit as she looked up at him. When his glaze met hers she adverted her eyes, focusing on the wall above the sofa.

“Water's fine.”

When she turned and headed for the kitchen he grinned to himself. He could see how nervous she was on the outside, and it was exactly how he felt on the inside; he was just better trained at hiding it. But, it was good that he made her feel that way, right? When women are indifferent, they aren't interested.

“Okay. Have a seat, I'll be right back.”

Morgan pointed towards the sofa before floating off into the kitchen. His eyes followed after her, watching the sway in her hips and her longs sticking out from the bottom of her dress. He wondered what that thing would look like on her bedroom floor in about fifteen minutes. When he heard the cabinet door open and the sound of clinking glasses he surveyed the living room around him. It was nicely put together. None of Chloe’s things were laying around like his last unplanned visit.

He moved over to the front window, looking out at the grassy knoll and the play structure in the distance. His car was parked in the very last visitor spot, hopefully far enough out of the way that no one would notice it. He could see one of the guards, Eddie, in the back lot posted up on the wall a few yards from another guard, Nick. It was a pattern Justin had shown them, and he was glad to see it was still in use when he wasn't around.

"So, how's your day?” He asked, plopping down on the couch.

“Pretty good. Got Chloe up at a decent hour. She's off on a play date one of her little friends now. Then I spent most of the morning cleaning. How was drill?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Bullshit. I have this new CO and he's all about PT. I hate that shit. Like I want to run in circles all morning."

Justin left out his flashback during training for obvious reasons. Morgan returned from the kitchen with a glass of ice water. She handed it to him before sitting down on the other end of the sofa. She tucked her feet under her body and leaned her head against the pillows. She was a little more comfortable now that he'd been here for a moment, but she was still nervous.

He took a few sips before sitting the glass down on a coaster and leaning back against the couch. They both stared at each other for a minute before either one of them spoke.

"You don't have to sit all the way over there, you know," he said.

Morgan smirked. It probably looked a little silly, her sitting so far away from him as if they were strangers. She just didn't know what to do around him. She wanted his attention, and she knew she had it, but she had no idea what to do with it.

Scooting closer, she leaned her head on his shoulder when he lifted his arm. The fabric of his uniform was stiff and dense, scratchy against her face. It was obviously made to withstand some serious wear and tear. His hand rubbed along her side, tickling her ribcage and making its way down to her hip. She sighed and relaxed into him; he could feel her getting more comfortable when her weight sank into his side.

"You look beautiful,” he said.

And just like that the butterflies came back. Morgan’s face grew warm as she tried to keep a wide smile from breaking out across her lips. She lifted her head a little to glance into his eyes again.

"Thank you. You look handsome. Never seen this uniform before."

As she spoke the words her fingers moved over his chest, lightly picking at the two patches that read US Marines and Timberlake.

“I take it you like it,” he teased.

Morgan giggled with a nod.

"I'm more interested in the guy in the uniform, but it is a nice little bonus. Kind of like having my own personal GIJoe."

He laughed a bit to try to keep his face from turning red. It had been long time since a woman made him even remotely blush.

"That douche was in the Army," he said. "I'm a Marine. Those pansies wish they could be like us."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Common civilian mistake, just don't let it happen again."

Justin turned his attention to the television, trying to ignore the feel of her eyes on the side of his face. Morgan was biting back a grin at his minor offense. He was kidding, she could tell; but, in reality it probably was a real gripe of the military branches.

The pair sat silent for a moment, staring at the television but paying no real attention at all. The quiet was driving Morgan crazy; the sexual tension was getting to her big time. She wanted him. She wanted him so bad she could feel the ache pulsing through her blood, throbbing with every beat. The tension was so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. She bounced her leg up and down, trying to ease the anxiety of the moment. Suddenly she popped up, startling herself and causing Justin to hold back a laugh.

"Would you like something to eat? A sandwich or something?”

She didn't wait for a response, just jumped up from the sofa and made her way back into the kitchen. She didn't notice Justin slowly rise from his seat with a smile, following quietly behind her. He watched from the door way as she scavenged through the cabinets and refrigerator in her own personal frenzy.

He stepped towards her when she began fumbling with twist tie around the bread. His hands slid down her arms, searing hot on her skin. He nuzzled his face in her hair, inhaling a deep whiff of her cinnamon scent; his lips brushed against her ear and down her jaw.

“I’m good. I ate before I came.”

Gripping her elbows, he turning her around until she was facing him. Then he stepped in closer until she was pinned in between the counter and his body. He could feel her trembling slightly beneath his touch, hear the heaviness of her breathing. He was in total control of the situation, she was at his mercy. She was the perfect, beautiful gazelle for his caged panther: vulnerable and unsuspecting. He looked into her brown eyes as she stared back, anxiously awaiting his next move. He placed his hands on both sides of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss.

That was all it took for Morgan’s body to unravel. She wrapped her arms around his body, her fingers grabbing hold of the back of his jacket and pulling him closer. Justin took that as his cue to drop his hands and clinch the back of her thighs. He lifted her up onto the counter top and wrapped her legs around his waist. Hormones shot through the roof as their kisses grew more and more intense. Hands were roaming over bodies as articles of clothing began to drop to the floor. Soon Justin was standing shirtless and the top of Morgan’s dress was pulled down low around her waist.

The cups of her exposed bra were folded down, and his lips left a trail heading South from her collarbone. He pulled one of her breasts into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth over her hardened nipple until she was wiggling on the counter. Then he let go and moved over to the other, showing it equal attention and waiting until she was whimpering softly before he pulled back. She watched him as he pressed her breasts together, totally focusing on the task at hand. He tweaked her nipples with his fingers, squeezing and massaging her skin. He loved listening to her. Everything he did caused a specific reaction in her; there was a certain moan, shiver, or sigh assigned to every nerve ending in her body. She was his instrument and he was playing his own personal sweet symphony.

She was a ragdoll by the time he picked her up again, finally satisfied with the attention he'd shown her body. She'd been moaning and trembling uncontrollably as he'd pinched and toyed with her. But when he looked up at her face, she was starry eyed; long lost in a haze of pleasure and arousal. He felt a twitch and a tightening in his groin; he needed this girl.

Justin lifted her up once more, cupping his hands under her butt as he moved from the kitchen to the bedroom. He rounded the corner into the hall and walked until his legs hit the bed. Then he gently laid her down and stood up over her. Morgan was watching him with lust filled eyes; her pink and white striped panties buzzed like a neon sign against her skin. Justin's body was on fire, his back burning from the deep lines she'd scratched into his flesh. He licked his lips slowly before his spoke, his mouth practically salivating at the thoughts running through his mind.

"Get on your knees," he said.

Morgan was excited by the low, rough grumble in his voice. Right now he wasn't himself; he was that dominating Marine who expected everything he said to be followed. He looked like his usual self except for the dark hunger in his eyes. She felt hunted; as if he'd been searching for her for a long time and now he had a list a thousand miles long of all the things he wanted to do to her.

Slowly crawling to her knees and turning her back to him, she saw him begin to undo his pants. The shiny silver of the buckle matched the two dog tags hanging on a chain around his neck. The fabric of his uniform brushed against the backs of her thighs -rough and abrasive- and she felt the bed shift as he moved. Morgan didn't know what to do, what do say, what to expect. Justin wasn't saying a word, and she was afraid to look back.

His legs inched hers further apart, spreading her thighs wide. She'd been leaning down on her elbows when he grabbed her back of her neck, pressing her face down into the pillows. She let out a gasp of surprise, but didn't fight against him. The bottom of her lavender dress was pulled up and over her hips. Her eyes closed as she realized she was on full display for him. She could feel his eyes on her body, soaking in the curve of her hips and the arch of her back.

Soft, warm fingers tugged at the crotch of her panties, pulling them to the side. Next something was rubbing between her lower lips, gliding up and down past her entrance. His hand gripped her hip tightly and she felt him push into her. He gave her all of him; every single inch of taut, hot flesh was forcing its way in.

Morgan cried out, a mixture of pleasure and surprise. Her hands balled into fists, wrinkling the fabric of her pillowcases in her palms. Her body clamped down on him, fighting against his invasion. This only added more fuel to Justin's flaming fire as he reached forward, pushing her head back down into the pillow. Her moans were the sexiest thing in the world to him. But, she also had neighbors, and he doubted she wanted to be the talk of the complex tomorrow.

When she relaxed down into the bed his hand trailed up her back until they both rested on her hips - his thumbs pressing into the small of her back. He watched himself penetrate her with long, deep strokes. She swallowed him, then cried out softly when he withdrew. He didn't know what it was about her - what she had that other women didn't - but he never wanted to leave this. Her body - her sex - was as closest thing to perfect he'd ever felt before.

His eyes locked onto the side of her face. Her long curls had flopped over her eyes. They were squeezed shut and her teeth clinching down onto her bottom lip as she tried to keep her sounds to herself. Slowly he started to speed up to his usual pace. He remembered the way she'd been before - the noises she made and the expressions on her face. He wanted to see them again. He became relentless as he pushed into her; the sound of their skin slapping together sounded through the room. 

Morgan had no idea what to do. She didn't want this time to be like last time. She wanted to participate. She wanted to sit up and look back at him, watch his face and see if he was enjoying it as much as she was. But unfortunately wanting to do something, and being able to do something, were two completely different things. All she was really able to do was try to keep her voice down - and she was doing a mediocre job with that at best. There was just too much masculinity happening for one woman to handle: the uniform, the smell, his rough tone, the way he was being so deliciously aggressive. Part of her mind was still having trouble processing the fact that this was actually happening.

She reached back, her fingers desperate for something to hold on to - something to ground herself in the moment. Her hand landed on the side of his thigh, and fisted the loose material of his pocket. Her nails scratched along the thick seams. He took that as his cue to thrust even harder, and she arched her back. Her hips started to quiver in his grasp, and she let out a few high pitched squeals into the pillow under her head. When her insides squeezed him in deep waves he realized she was riding out her first orgasm of the day.

He slowed his pace and waited for her to come down before shifting his weigh. Justin laid down on her back, pushing her pelvis into the mattress. His legs moved to the outside of hers, pushing them together. He groaned at the sensation. Her insides -already soaking wet from her orgasm- tightened around him even more. He started to thrust again and Morgan lifted her head, taking in air through a pattern of quick deep breathes. Justin slid a hand up her torso, between her breasts, to her neck. His fingers pressed into her flesh, choking her lightly. It served two purposes for him: not only was it turn on, but it held her steady so he could penetrate deeper.

One of her small hands snaked around his forearm, gripping him tightly and digging her nails in. It was thrilling: feeling the pressure on her neck, the slight sense of danger in what he was doing. But, she also trusted him, and she knew he'd never do anything bad enough to actually harm her. Even if she did want to protest she couldn't have. His hips were still moving, swinging back and forth, and she was still too overwhelmed to do anything more than hang on to him.

Unbeknownst to her, Morgan's hips had started to move. She instinctively tilt them up in a rhythm that matched his, and he felt the difference automatically. His hand dropped away from her neck, and he lowered his head to her shoulder.

"Oh, yeah," he whispered roughly. "I love it when you fuck me back."

Morgan's blurry eyes opened, and she realized she was indeed moving with him. A sense of relief flooded over her. Finally, she was helping. And he loved it.

She still had it.

Time seemed to fly by as they laid there in bed, moving in sync with one another. Her mouth had made its way to his wrist, and she bit down to muffle her gasps. He had to admit it hurt a little, but then it wasn't every day that he got to bring out the inner animal in a beautiful woman. He was in no hurry to ruin the moment. But, he knew their time together was drawing to a close because her sounds changed. They were lower and raspier, dug up from a place deep inside. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard her soft voice.

“Ooh, I’m gonna--gonna--.”

Morgan’s body shuttered violently before she could completely get her words out. Justin thrust into her hard and fast as she fell over the edge again. He followed soon after, letting out a deep groan. She could feel him release inside her, his hips pressing deep and holding there until there was nothing left. When they were done, their bodies collapsed against the bed.

Justin kissed her shoulder and rolled himself off to the side. He laid on his back, staring up at the off-white ceiling. Neither of them moved for a few minutes, trying to catch their breath. When he looked finally looked over at Morgan she still had her face in the pillow. He chuckled, pleased with himself. 

When Morgan finally shifted her body and lifted her head to look at Justin as he was already watching her. She smiled coyly, searching for the right thing to say. He smiled back and pushed the damp hair from her face so he could kiss her forehead. When he leaned back Morgan scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder and lazily toying with the dog tags around his neck.

They both smiled thinking the same thing: I could get use to this.