Chapter 4

When they got to the door to her apartment, he stopped.

"I can go stay in the barracks," he said.

"But I came all this way just to see you, and talk to you," she complained. "And I'm going to be in so much trouble when they find out I hoodwinked you. They might even put me in jail!"

"You could just leave," he said. "Just drive away. They have no idea who you really are. How would they find you?"

"And leave you here to take all the heat?"

"Hey, I'm a TBI patient. My brains are scrambled. I could do anything at any time. Nobody knows what I might do next. They won't even let me leave because they think I might go off the deep end."

"Really? You can't leave?"

"I have to have a sponsor. I don't have one."

"Who can be your sponsor?"

"Well usually it's a family member," he said. "Except I don't have any." He blinked. "I mean I didn't think I had any. I do have a sister ... somewhere. But they can't find her, so that doesn't help. And besides, she might not be willing to take me."

"I can't believe any sister would turn her back on her injured brother," Julia said, incensed.

"Well, she sure hasn't tried to contact me," he said.

"How do you know?" she asked. "I tried to contact you for months, with no success at all!"

He looked thoughtful. "Well, I guess that's true," he said.

"You know ... they still think I'm your sister," she said.

He looked at her. "Thanks, but it would never work."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Remember all that paperwork I'm supposed to complete back at the Family Assistance Center? It's not going to happen. We don't have anything to prove you're my sister."

"Oh," she said. "I guess that's true."

"Besides," he sighed. "You don't want me living with you."

She tilted her head and surveyed him.

"You haven't been listening very well."

Then she opened the door and pulled him inside.

"Julia," he complained. "I can't stay here tonight. You're a nice girl."

"And you're a nice boy," she said.

"I'm not a boy," he argued.

"And I'm not a girl anymore."

"We don't even know each other," he pointed out.

"We can get to know each other better tonight," she said.

"Look, Julia, you haven't been listening very well either. If I stay here tonight I'm going to want to do things."

"That doesn't mean we have to do things," she said.

"But I'm going to want to!" he said, getting loud.

"Obviously, you don't want to," she said firmly. "Because if you did want to, you'd be trying to get in here, so you could seduce me and carve another notch on your gun."

"I don't have a gun," he said, almost petulantly. "And if I did it wouldn't have any notches on it."

"None?" She was shocked.

"Well, not very deep ones, anyway," he said, looking away.

"What does that mean?" she asked. "Are you a virgin?"

"No," he said defensively. "I just haven't done it very much, okay? Are you happy now? I'm not a macho stud with a bunch of girls to my credit."

"How do you know?" she asked sweetly.

"What do you mean how do I know?" he barked.

"Well, you told me yourself, you can't remember things. You couldn't remember your sister, and she's a pretty important woman in your life. And you couldn't remember me, and you admitted you get horny for me. So who else can't you remember? I bet you have a girlfriend somewhere."

"I do not have a girlfriend," he insisted. "If I had a girlfriend I'd remember her."

"Like you remember your sister and me," she said, smiling impishly.

"What do you want?" he yelled.

"I want you to be Bob," she said softly. "I want you to be yourself, the man who wrote me letters, the man who my kids adopted. That's all I ever wanted."

"But what if I want more?" he whined.

"Do you?" she asked, and then held her breath. She was going crazy inside again.

He opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. He took two deep breaths.

"I don't think I'm supposed to," he finally said.

She wanted to scream "Why not?" but the fact was he might actually have a girlfriend out there somewhere. She couldn't believe women would let a man like this run free.

"All right then," she said. "All we'll do tonight is get to know each other better. Tomorrow I'll slip on out of here and you can tell them whatever you want."

"Okay," he said. He sounded tired.

"I need a shower," she said. "Can you go find us something to munch on tonight? And some drinks maybe? My keys are on the table. Can you drive a car with that leg?"

"Go take your shower," he said. "You have an automatic. I'll be fine."

Once she was naked, in the shower, with water cascading against her skin, she knew she'd have to masturbate. She felt like she was about to explode already. She soaped her body quickly. There was complimentary shampoo. It wasn't the kind she used, but that didn't matter. Not for just one time.

When she was clean she leaned against the wall of the shower and slid a hand between her legs. She was already so excited that her practiced fingers brought her close quickly.

"Ohhhh shit," she groaned. For some reason, the only time she cursed was when she was doing this.

She ended up squatting, her knees weak from the pleasure as she shook in the grip of an orgasm. She wanted to sit down and just let the water play on her body, but she knew if she did that she wouldn't want to get up.

She turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. While she was toweling off, she glanced in the mirror, looking critically at her straggly reddish brown hair, the wet ends of which were currently plastered to her upper breasts. Those breasts were normally contained in a bra, but not because they needed support. They were firm and high on her chest, with nipples that she always thought looked like had been rouged. Her stomach was still flat, and she always examined it because that flat stomach was what kept her to her running schedule. She turned this way and that, trying to figure out if her hips were getting bigger. Looking over her shoulder she decided her butt was still OK.

She used a fresh towel on her hair, getting it as dry as she could. It was while she was doing that that she realized she'd forgotten her blow dryer. No matter. She could comb it out. It always dried straight anyway, even if she tried to put curl in it.

She turned to get dressed and froze.

She hadn't brought anything into the bathroom with her. In fact, she hadn't even brought her suitcase into the motel room. There had been too many other things to think about.

She looked at the clothes she'd taken off and wrinkled her nose. She'd been wearing them for almost twenty four hours. No way was she putting them back on.

She went to the door and opened it a crack.

"Bob?" she called. "Are you back?"

There was no answer. She opened the door more and peered out. No Bob. She thought about just waiting, but it was chilly. She decided to get the bedspread and wrap that around her until Bob came back. Then she could have him get her suitcase.

She stepped out of the bathroom, tossing the towel in her hand onto the floor. She walked to the bed.

The door opened and Bob walked in, a plastic bag suspended from one hand and her suitcase hanging from the other.

They stood, both like deer in the headlights. She stared at his face, noticing his eyes take in her nudity. He was very thorough in examining her body, and part of her mind noticed that as his eyes ranged over her naked skin, a pink flush began suffusing his cheeks and then his forehead, until he looked sunburned.

"Oh man," he sighed.

Julia sensed, in those few seconds, that she had power over this man. That seemed incredible, because he was a soldier, a warrior. He'd been in battle and fired guns and been blown up. It was impossible for a strong man like that to be helpless under the gaze of a mere woman.

But he was. She could feel it.

"Close the door," she said, astonished that her voice was so steady. She felt like she was going to explode any second.

Her suitcase hit the floor with a thud and the hand that had been holding it groped for the door and pushed it shut.

"Put my suitcase on the bed, please?" she suggested. "I won't have anything to wear until I can get into it."

"Oh man," he moaned.

"Yes, you're a man and I'm a woman," she said, putting her patient teacher voice into her throat. "There are some differences. You've seen them before."

"Not like this," he sighed. "I'll just turn around now."

He turned around.

"My suitcase?" she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah."

He bent and she noticed it looked different somehow. She wondered if the prosthesis made it difficult to bend over. He was trying to put the suitcase on the bed without looking.

"Bob?"

"Yes?"

"I don't mind if you see me."

"You don't?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because if you didn't have a girlfriend, I'd wish I was your girlfriend."

He turned sideways.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"We don't know that," she said.

"Then why are you standing there naked?" he asked. His eyes darted her way and then went back to the wall.

"Because you're holding my suitcase and I can't get any clothes out of it," she said.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Put my suitcase on the bed, Bob."

"Sure," he said. Finally he faced her and put the suitcase on the bed. He didn't look up, though.

"Would you open it and hand me something to wear?" she asked. This control she had just discovered was intoxicating.

"Um ... all right," he said.

He opened the suitcase.

"Panties and bras are in the corner on your left," she said.

He reached and then stopped. "I can't touch ... I mean I can't do..." He swallowed. "I can't," he finally said.

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Any Soldier

Lubrican

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