Chapter 18

Since Lula could not accompany Stephanie on bond retrievals, her paycheck was skimpier. She knew her court appearance might put her into jail and fine her significant money, money she did not have. Instead of looking for higher-paying work elsewhere, Lula began plotting ways to get money.

She began selling bedazzled purses she purchased from stolen goods dealers and enhanced with her creative talents. They sold well to her Stark Street ho friends. She added shoes to her inventory. While most were FMPs, she also enhanced sneakers and ballet flats. Her friend Jackie asked her to bedazzle a hat to go with her purse and shoes. Lula exclaimed, "Sista, yo gonna shine like a beacon with all them jewels."

"Dats the idee, Jackie giggled. "I'ze need a edge ov'r the youn'r girls." She then asked Lula why she was doing handicrafting.

"I needs the money for my court case," Lula explained. "Since White Girl ain't bounty hun'ing, I ain't gettin' no extra mon." Lula's gutter talk shone when she was on Stark Street.

"Why don't yo' ask you big black man for de money," Jackie inquired.

Shaking her head, causing the beads in her braids to flow about, Lula answered, "He ain't mine no more. He gots all upset 'bout de hospital thing."

"Dat don't mean yo' can't get money from him."

Lula thought of their last conversation. He treated her like dirt. Maybe she did deserve some compensation.

-0-

Rain, now a civilian, was back from her job interview in North Carolina. She had already been to Texas only to be told, "They'd get back to her." She held out little hope. The North Carolina interview held more promise until she got there. She knew that, too, would amount to nothing.

She was home early, having stopped at a market on the way from the local, regional airport. The short-haul airline was one of the few that used the Trenton airport. She felt like cooking dinner. Spotting the filo dough in the refrigerator display, she decided to make spanakopita, spinach pie. She and Cowboy loved the individual hand pies but purchased them already prepared from the commissary or Costco. She remembered Tank also loved the pies as well. Briefly, she wondered if they had a bit of Agean sea in their background.

She chopped the fresh parsley and dill, scallions, and spinach. The filo was set out but remained covered until ready for use. First, she sautéed the onions, added the garlic, then the spinach until it wilted. She transferred that to a strainer and let the excess liquid drain off, pushing it down to aid drainage. She melted an obscene amount of butter she had to purchase, knowing it wasn't in Tank's pantry. While it melted, she mixed the drained spinach with eggs, feta, Mozzarella, Brie, and a touch of Parmesan cheese. These were in place of ricotta or cottage cheese. She added a pinch of nutmeg. Then she began layering the filo inside a deep pie pan, brushing each layer with butter. She put the spinach mixture onto the filo and topped it with more buttered filo layers. She rolled the edges a bit, trimming off the excess to seal the border. Once complete, she rolled the excess filo back up, put it back into the wax paper roll, and saved it for her next project. After placing the pie in the oven, she turned to their dessert.

Next, she sliced Granny Smith apples, mixed them with dried cranberries and a touch of lemon juice, sugar, and cinnamon. Then buttering each remaining filo layer and stacking them atop one another, she added the apple mix, rolled the filo around the apples, and placed the streusel roll onto a baking sheet. She hated having two filo items for the same meal, but she used the extra sheets. Baklava was not an option as the syrup needed to soak in overnight.

A Greek salad came together quickly, adding stuffed grape leaves, domathes, from a can. There was no time to make them by hand. Rain added soaked chunks of feta, not those pathetic crumbles, salad peppers, and olives to remove the excess salt, dried them, and added to the salad. A simple vinegarette dressing would finish the salad. Tuna was added for protein, scrubbing authentic Greek salad for something closer to French Nicoise. It's why she loved cooking, changing a recipe slightly at a moment's notice. She was not a food purist.

She cleaned the kitchen and set the table. Tank and Cowboy walked in, surprised she was home, and dinner was ready. "But Mama, we brought rotisserie chicken home."

"We can have that too! Go and wash up while I finish setting the table."

Tank walked up to her and kissed her on the lips. "Welcome home, mon Cher. You've been busy in the kitchen. I'm surprised."

Rain laughed, "We didn't always live in a garret," referring to the top-floor apartment in Wiesbaden. "I caught an earlier flight."

"How was the interview in North Carolina?"

Scrunching her nose, Rain answered, "I scared the beeswax out of the CEO, all 5'2" with lifts in his shoes. He would never raise his eyes above my chest."

Tank silently thought he, too, had a hard time not admiring her body. "Are you going to call them on it?"

"No, it wasn't really what I wanted to do, but it was close to Trenton. The head engineer heard about the creepy CEO and rushed out to meet me before I left. He did offer to keep his ears to the ground for something around the country. He was hoping I'd join their team. He knew some of my work."

-0-

Later that night, after Cowboy was in bed, Tank came from the kitchen and handed Rain a water bottle. He had a beer. "I know you are less able to handle alcohol than Stephanie, but I'll get you one if you want."

"No, I'm fine. Stephanie. That's Ranger's woman, right?"

He nodded yes, "You don't come into the Rangeman building, so haven't met her."

"I haven't met Ranger either." Rain didn't say a word about Stephanie also being Lula's friend. Turning back to the television where a World Series baseball game was on, Rain said, "My team drove in a run from second base on an error," she said, waving towards the television screen. "That puts me ahead of your team."

"My team?"

"Your home, you are the home team. I'm a visitor, so the visiting team is mine."

"They will change for the next game in two days."

"Go with the flow, Sherman," she scolded.

"Want to put a wager on the game?"

"Well, my team picked off your best hitter and runner, eliminating the last inning's scoring threat. Statistically, the weaker part of your lineup is next. Meanwhile, my team's best hitters are coming up, plus we lead by five runs. Your bullpen is weak, especially with recent injuries. Do you feel lucky?"

Tank harrumphed. "What to change the bet?"

"Are you afraid I'll clean your pockets?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"I wasn't thinking of money. I had something else in mind," Tank said hesitantly and softly.

"Oh?"

Tank sat back, opened his beer, and took a big gulp before beginning. "Each time someone gets on first base, the runner gives the defending team a kiss."

"A kiss? Lip kiss or cheek kiss?"

"Runner's choice."

"What happens if the runner advances to second base?" Rain inquired.

Tank smiled, "The kiss becomes hanky panky."

Narrowing her eyes, Rain asked with suspicion, "I know I asked you to help me learn about being a woman, but you are going to have to define your version of hanky panky, Mr. Sherman."

"The hands and lips get to go exploring. Clothes remain on."

"Do I dare ask what happens if the runner gets to third?"

"Skin comes into play."

"Excuse me?" Rain asked nervously.

"Hands and lips go further exploring, under the clothes or clothes opened, but they remain on the body.

Rain thought for a moment, "The chances of your team getting to third are pretty low. They have one of the lowest on-base percentages in the league. They have no business in the World Series. My team's pitcher is fresh, and the third baseman has a strong arm. The shortstop is an MVP. You might be strictly a receiver in this game."

Tank smiled, "I won't complain. You aren't limited to my chest, by the way." He thought this would be an opportunity for her to be the leader in a little making-out.

Rain looked away, blushing. "Do I dare ask about reaching home?"

Tank almost blushed in return, "Ah, I don't think we need to think about that, now."

"Does this game involve every batter who comes to the plate?"

"Yes. Bases loaded could be quite active," Tank smiled.

"We can try, but I'm warning you, the game might be called due to Rain."

Tank smiled, "I believe we are in a drought."

Rain had become comfortable kissing Tank since they moved back to Trenton. The kisses were sweet but recently with more feeling. A quick peck lasted through the first two innings but grew bolder with each inning. By the middle innings, Tank's team was getting on base more often, and he was introducing her to hanky panky. At first hesitant, she was beginning to enjoy it.

Rain's team was the better team. She had become familiar with Tank's neck, chest, and arms but kept herself from going inside Tank's belt. Suddenly a short stop's error resulted in an overthrow, allowing Tank's runner to advance to third base. A flustered Rain lept up, "Stupid! You threw to the wrong base!"

She grabbed what she thought was her water and drank its entirely. It was his new beer. Scrunching her nose. Looking at the bottle, she mumbled, "Sorry, I'll get you a new bottle."

Tank smiled when she returned, "If you are lucky, the next batter will hit into a double play to end the inning, but in the meantime…" He leaned over and pulled her closer to him. It took two more batters to retire the side while stranding the runner on third. By then, her shirt was open, bra unhooked, and pants open. Perhaps feeling the beer's effect and Tank's hanky panky, she was disappointed the inning ended.

In the ninth inning, the home team was trailing by three, but they held the three bases through poor pitching and two hits. Tank had coaxed Rain into more daring behavior. Hands were disappearing into pants and eventually onto sexual organs or into her body cavity. Now both were sexually sparking. Both participants weren't sure if they were ready for the next batter to hit, driving in a run and involving a compromising situation.

They had ignored men reaching home until now, but there were three men on base and Tank had a growing need to relieve the pressure in his pants. Could they walk away, alone back to their respective rooms if there was an out? When the batter popped up, Rain uttered, "You better catch that, you sucker." Tank was hoping for a dropped ball. The caught ball had Tank groaning as his pants were super tight, and his fingers were wet after fingering Rain.

Rain jumped up, adjusted her clothing, grabbed the empty bottles and empty popcorn bowl, kissed Tank on the lips, and said, "Tomorrow. How about an early morning run?"

Tank could only nod acceptance. He needed time to deflate or a quick trip to the nearby powder room before he turned off the lights and went to bed.

Later, muffled cries came down the hall. Tank knew Rain was having a beer-induced nightmare. He shuffled out of bed and went to her room and attempted to wake her up as he had months before. She woke up trembling, then uttered, "Fuck." Tank held her against his chest until her breathing settled, but she still shook. "I'll stay here for a while, mon Cher," he said. Rain nodded.

Rain sat on his lap, keenly aware she was wearing only a nightgown, no panties. She wasn't sure what Tank was wearing, but she felt bare skin under her and growing hardness. Slowly she drifted back to sleep.

Tank woke suddenly. His mind caught in a very erotic dream involving Rain being rubbed down with cocoa butter until her brown skin shone. He found himself curled around Rain. Somehow he had failed to put on boxers when he left his bed to comfort Rain. He was bare ass naked against her bare ass. Now he had a slowly deflating erection nestled between her buttocks. While embarrassing as that was, he realized he had had a nocturnal emission, a wet dream. His cum was now sitting close to or within home base.

Hell, what to do? He decided he had to wake her and tell her, hoping she was on birth control. "Rain," he started, gently shaking her.

"Huh?" she uttered as she woke. "Is there something wrong?"

Gads, how is he going to tell her? "Sweetheart, we fell asleep spooning together."

"No wonder I'm so nice and toasty," she said, wiggling against his groin. He stifled a groan.

"Yeah, well, ah, we were pretty close and, ah, I had an unintentional nocturnal emission."

"A what?"

"I had an erotic dream, and I ejaculated on you?"

She was quiet for a while. "You had a wet dream on me or in me?"

"I'm sorry, I was asleep when it happened," Tank apologized.

"Where? Do I need to be concerned?"

"I don't think I penetrated you. If you don't move, I'll get a washcloth and clean you. I'm so sorry."

Tank went to the bathroom and returned with several warm washcloths and two towels. Carefully tucking one towel under Rain, who had not moved, he began washing her. The bedside lamp was on the lowest setting, but he could see his white cum against her dark labial tissues. It was too close to home. He gently cleaned the area but wasn't sure he got it all. "If you don't mind, would you roll over onto your back so I know I've got everything?"

Rain was enjoying the warm cloth even though she was highly embarrassed being fully on display to Tank. At least the lighting was minimal.

The wiping action was beginning to affect both of them. Tank found his erection returning, and she was making low noises as her clitoral area swelled. As he finished, without thinking, Tank bent down and kissed her mons pubis. Rain groaned with desire, "Do it again." Just a few hours ago, they were enjoying their erotic baseball game. They were moving onto extra innings. He continued kissing and licking, moving to her inner thighs working his way inward. When he parted her lower lips, he found her wet with desire. His lips and tongue feasted on her juices while his hands rubbed her thighs and lower abdomen.

"Yes," Rain said softly, not discouraging his journey. Her swollen clit gave him more to explore with his lips and tongue. While his mouth was busy forward, his fingers, slick with her juices, gently stroked her perineum behind the vaginal opening. Rain's hips jumped with excitement.

Fearing he was going too fast, he moved to her breasts, licking, sucking teasing her nipples to become harder. Rain did not resist but wished he would return to the southern hemisphere. "Go back," she whispered.

He returned to her labial region and resumed his oral and finger explorations. Using one finger, he penetrated her while watching her reaction. As he twirled around, she smiled as she took over playing with her own nipples.

She was whispering quiet words of encouragement, Tank added a second and third finger and went directly to work on her g-spot. When her walls began to clench, she became frightened just as she had years before in Iraq.

"Let yourself fly," Tank cooed, but Rain grew increasingly fearful. He carefully withdrew his fingers and pulled her down to his lap as he sat on the floor.

He nestled Rain close to his body with his cock riding up between their bellies with his legs crossed. Pulling the comforter from the bed, he wrapped them both into a cocoon. They sat, cheek to cheek, relishing the skin-to-skin contact. Tank slowly rubbed her back, remembering her saying it was a sexual turn-on. "Breathe with me, mon Cher," he encouraged as he kissed her along her jaw bone and behind the ear. Slowly Rain began to rock back and forth on Tank's lap as their breathing became synchronized. Gently he pulled back enough to let his soldier fall from between their bellies to a position where he could penetrate her.

First checking her wetness, he then guided her onto his member, slowly, allowing her to adjust to his size. He took his time as he was well endowed. The yab/yum Tantric sex position, or lotus, was intimate but not aggressive. Very slowly, they began to move again, breathing in sync. The movements were tiny, more like pelvic thrust and vibrations. The penetration angle was perfect for clitoral stimulation. Rain became aroused again and synchronized her breathing with Tank, not gasping. This time she did not panic. She was enjoying feeling how her body responded with such careful and soft movements. When the climax came, it was gentle for her as his seed pulsed into her and her tongue stroked his tongue. They remained tied together as one. His heartbeat against hers cleansing her of her fears of intimacy, allowing her to feel a nonaggressive attachment to him. No man had ever been this gentle, including Tank, in their initial intercourse years before.

There was no post-coital sleepiness. They felt rejuvenated. When they separated and rose from the floor, they still clung to one another. "Do you want to shower?" he asked. "Together," he added almost as an afterthought though it was forefront on his mind.

She nodded affirmatively. "Thank you for ah, for being gentle," she whispered.

They decided to use the larger shower in his bedroom. Not only would it accommodate the two larger people, but they were also further from Cowboy's room. Carefully they began washing each other. He didn't have shampoo, so he only rinsed her hair before soaping up a washcloth and going down her back and legs. He noted scars on her buttocks and along the sides. One was from Iraq. Suspecting the slash marks were remnants of the whipping she endured from her stepmother, he ignored them. This was not the time to bring up past horrors. She turned around to face him but shyly kept her hands over her breasts.

"Did you breastfeed?" he asked softly.

She nodded affirmatively. "They aren't perky anymore."

Bending over, he kissed the top of each breast and tongued the nipples. "The gift of life for my son. They are beautiful." He pried one hand away, barely noticing the slight sag. Supporting the breast from underneath, he washed each carefully. After rinsing, he kissed each erect nipple sending chills through Rain.

"My turn," she whispered.

Soaping up her hands, she began washing his back. His back muscles were impressive. She took great delight in recalling the names of them as she worked her way down: lats, traps, erectors, rhomboid, and teres major. His gluts were like stone, his biceps and gastros, the calf muscles, were like thick swollen cords running the length of his legs. When he turned around, the quads stood proud, separated by the facia. That wasn't the only thing standing proud. She had not seen his erection in its full glory. No wonder she had been so filled and sore, her poor cervix.

Carefully soaping her hands, she started to clean his cock. "No," he said, stepping back. He was embarrassed everything had moved so quickly. Taking her soapy hands in his, he brought them up to his chest and sides. His abs and obliques were rock-hard but not as clearly defined as a body-builder stripped of fat for competition. Still, his eight-pack clearly shown. The most delicious part was his pecs. They were broad and solid like black granite. She was drawn to them like a fly to sugar, kissing and sucking each nipple, causing his body to tremble. "Do you want more?" he asked.

Laying her head aside his shoulder, she whispered, "Yes." Something was waking up inside of her. Her sexuality was blooming. This coupling was not the fuckings and rapes from her adolescence. This was her body reacting like a woman.

Pulling her close, he turned to put her back against the shower wall as his mouth assault her lips, neck, and breasts. Reaching down, he felt to see if she was wet. Then placing his hands on her buttocks, he lifted her. Automatically she wrapped her long, muscular legs around him, and he slowly entered her. His pace was slow and gentle. Once again, she was amazed at how gentle this giant man was. Her body was saying enough with this slow stroke. "Faster," Rain whispered. He complied.

This time she rode the wave, muscles freezing as she neared orgasm. Tank pumped faster. The sound of the water did not dampen the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Suddenly she placed her open mouth over his trapezius and screamed as the orgasm shot through her. He simultaneously grunted loudly as he too reached climax. Quiet gasps replaced the slapping flesh sounds as each tried to center themselves again. Neither noticed the water was cooler.

"Are you OK, mon Cher?"

Rain didn't know how to answer. She had first enjoyed long sensual intercourse only to be followed by a shower fuck. She tried to feel insulted but remembered it was her own body that drove the almost base nature of their actions. All she could do to answer was shake her head, yes. Wrapping a towel around herself and turn to leave. She didn't go more than a few feet before she spun around and pulled his head down for a passionate kiss. As she dressed, she realized she was falling in love with Tank.

-0-

The next afternoon, the call came asking if Rain could come to California earlier than previously arranged. It was two days before Halloween, but she dare not hesitate. This was one of her top five employment options, and she did not want to upset them.

"Go ahead," Tank said. "Cowboy will have armed escorts for his trick or treating."

Rain smiled, "Ella is baking cupcakes for the office party, and the Murphies down the road have a haunted house planned. I don't want to miss either."

Tank kissed her forehead, "More likely, you miss the trick or treat treats."

She nodded, "That too."

"I'll put a cupcake in the freezer for you and any extra candy. I know how you like frozen Reese's cups."

She smiled broadly, "I thought I kept those hidden from you."

"By the way, does he have a costume?" Tank asked.

"Hector and he are dressing as banditos, complete with ammo belts, serapes, and sombreros. Bobby will paint their faces to look like skeletons in honor of Dia de Los Muertos being the next day. Hector found gloves that look like skeleton hands. I'm sorry I'll miss it. I expect many pictures, Mr. Sherman."

"Am I expected to dress up as well?" he asked.

Rain stood back and looked him over, top to bottom. With a little smile, "I assume an all-white Mr. Clean look is out, but I'd love to see you in tight leather pants and vest with gold chairs around your chest."

He nodded, "The second option is possible."

Panicking Rain quickly added, "Not trick-or-treating in this neighborhood. Two banditos and a motorcycle badass wouldn't be safe. That is strictly Rangeman party wear. Ah, does Rangeman have parties?"

Shaking his head no, "No."

"Then save the leather for me," she smiled with a blush.

Halloween day for school kids allowed costumes but no masks. Cowboy's ammo belt could not contain cartridges. Plastic floral tubes and caps filled the belt. Of course, any handguns, including toy guns, were strictly verboten. For school, the holsters held larger clusters of marigold blossoms, the flowers of Dia de Los Muertos. However, for his costume reveal at Rangeman, he strutted onto the 5th floor "armed" with two toy guns and empty rifle cartridge cases in the gun belt, dancing the "Macarena" with Hector. The loud music brought the men to their feet to watch.

Ranger stormed from his office, questioning the noise. The sight of most of the crew dancing along with Cowboy and Hector had Ranger stunned. He was about to explode when Tank grabbed him and spun him around. "Ten minutes, once a year. Stuff it."

Ranger turned back around and saw smiles on all his men's faces. "Your son dances well," Ranger backtracked.

Tank spoke up, "Ella has set up the large conference room for the party." Turning to Ranger, Tank said, "You are invited, but only if you shove your attitude."

Once those not on monitor duty were in the Halloween decorated conference room, Ranger sought out Tank's son and squatted down, "My name is Ranger, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Buenas dias, Senor Ranger. Estoy encantado de conocerte. Mi nombre es Bandido solo por hoy. De lo contrario, mi nombre es Pierre Sherman Massenet." (I am pleased to meet you. My name is Bandido for today only. Otherwise, my name is…)

"You speak Spanish well. Who is teaching you?"

"Hector, well, everyone here. I studied German and French when we lived in Wiesbaden. I didn't get very good, though."

"Don't give up. Learning different languages is easier when you are young."

"That's what my Mama says."

"Where is your mother? I've not met her."

"She's in California interviewing for a job. I hope she'll be home tonight."

Ranger turned to Tank, "Cute kid and smart. Obviously, he got both traits from his mother."

"The smarts, that is for sure. I'm afraid the looks are more like me. Poor guy."

"How do you like being a father?"

"Scarier than a jungle firefight. There I was trained. I'm improvising every day, especially with Rain absent. God Bless Ella and Luis. In total, though, I love every single second."

Ranger remained quiet. He had missed his daughter growing up. She was only a few years older than Tank's son. Only recently had he begun to think about life after his contract was up. Up until then, he had nothing permanent to offer Stephanie.

"But as scary as it is," Tank continued, "It fills a lot of hurt and anger I didn't know I had. Not having a father, well not when I needed him, hurt."

"How are you and his mother?"

"I hope like hell she doesn't get a job across the country. It's looking like it more and more, she will," Tank sighed. "The closest is NASA's Wallops Flight Facility in Eastern Shores, Virginia. The rest are in the West and Southwest."

Ranger nodded but was wondering if Rangeman needed a new office, wherever Rain ends up.