Me and Danny Ch. 07

My mind was whirring with thoughts about Martin's infidelities, but the horror I'd imagined didn't even come close to what came from his mouth.

The inflection of his voice was humbled yet determined. This was my first clue that the news he'd be dropping on me was one that would change everything.

"My...uhh...job isn't what you think it is. The company that I work for..." he stopped himself, like he needed to redirect. I was trying to catch up because the words he was saying wasn't the words I thought he'd say.

"Your job?" I asked, confused.

He let out a breath before saying, "Yeah, I...never really got out of the military."

That sat in the air for a pregnant moment before sinking in. What exactly was he telling me?

We talked for hours. I learned things I wished I never knew. He and his coworkers, or his "team", have been tasked from time to time to carry out certain "operations". These operations were done in secret. Most of them involved bullets, bombs, knives, poison, death, blood, carnage...

My husband, the man who took words like Honor, Courage, and Commitment as biblical verse was nothing more than a government paid hitman. Sure, he was taking out terrorists or whatever, but he and his "team" were paid to kill.

And apparently, lie to everyone in their lives about it. Wives included.

He was vague with details, but even the cliff notes made me shake with fear. I knew he had to kill at some time while serving in the military. It was an abstract knowledge. However, I never really pictured Martin ending a life.

This was different. This was him admitting that he was comfortable killing people. Not as a Marine, as a person. The fact that he was capable of that changed how I saw him.

There were other parts of his story that were important. His medical discharge from the Marines, the stories he told about work, the last decade and a half of our lives...all a bunch of lies. Day after day he lied to my face and left for work, knowing there was a chance he could not come home.

Everything suddenly made sense. That fateful week that he was gone for "work", or when he suddenly left for Thanksgiving. The countless special days of our married lives that he had to miss because of "work". All of it fell into place.

I felt like my feet were gone from beneath me. My mind rewound over the years of my marriage. All the unexplainable disappearances. I'd been lied to for most of our marriage.

"So...you mean to tell me that while I was here, thinking you were safe, you were out there being G.I. Joe? Risking your life? For what? So you can play out some kind of action hero fantasy? What about me and your family? What would we have done if you'd been killed?"

He nodded, and with a joking smirk (I guess to ease the tension), he said, "You guys would've been taken care of. Set for life, really. Honestly, I'm worth more dead than alive."

That last sentence was supposed to be a joke, I suppose, but there was nothing...fucking...funny.

"ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING ABOUT YOU GETTING KILLED?" I screamed at him, sitting straight up in the bed.

Not only had I been lied to, but at any moment, he could've been taken from me by a stray bullet, or a knife wound, or some fucking poison. He could've been ripped from my arms without me even knowing he was in danger. And he thought throwing money at me would make up for him being dead? Did he think so little of me?

"Ronnie..."

"No!" I yelled. "Fuck you! You should've told me! You should've been honest with me! Here I was at home, thinking you're safe at your boring job, and all this time you were risking your life!"

He gaffed at that. "Are you seriously talking about honesty? Really? You do realize that you were just about to confess about cheating on me WITH MY FUCKING NEPHEW!"

Apparently, Martin was as good of a sniper with his words as he was with a rifle. That little shot hit me, right where it was supposed to. I gasped in shock, and my hand flew to my mouth.

He knew about Danny. He knew it all.

"I...I...I..."

"Yeah." He said, his voice now a bit condescending. "So, tell me again about honesty. At least my lie would've taken care of you for life. Yours would've humiliated our entire family. So please get off your self-righteous horse, Ronnie."

I was immediately flooded with questions. How did he know? How much did he know? Why hasn't he said anything?

The two of us sat there in our bed made of lies. Both of us were a couple of liars. No matter how we dressed up our lies, the simple matter of the fact was we were untrustworthy.

"What do we do now?" I asked, all the energy sapped from my body.

He looked me in my eyes with determination. "We fight, Ronnie. We fight for each other. We've been through too much to let each other go. Do you remember what you told me when I was gone for that week? You said you loved everything about me, even the parts you don't love. Is that still true?"

Looking at the face that I'd known all my adult life, I questioned my entire marriage. The truth was, I didn't know Martin at all. The man I married was a wounded Veteran who luckily found a high paying job right after he was medically discharged from the Marines. His job was important, but boring.

However, there were parts of Martin that I knew for sure; parts that were real. The Martin I knew was kind, yet strong. He loved me, protected me, and treated me as well as he knew how. He never raised his voice at me and supported me in anything I wanted to do. He was the best man I knew: a great husband, a wonderful father, and a sexy lover.

"Yes, Martin. It's still true. It'll always be true."

He smiled like he was relieved. Then, he planted a tender kiss on my lips.

"The past is the past. It can't hurt us unless we let it."

"But...your job..."

He shook his head. "The moment I realized I was losing you, I took another position. Yes, I'll still be helping with operations, but I'm not in the field anymore."

"What does that mean?" I asked, still confused.

"It means that I won't be doing the dangerous stuff anymore. It also means that my schedule will be more stable, and I'll have more time at home."

That sounded so wonderful! It was what I'd wanted from him all along. I so wanted to believe the words that were coming from his mouth. He looked sincere, and I would've readily swan-dived into this dream a few hours ago.

But he'd been effectively lying to me for most of our lives together, and I was none the wiser. How could I trust him now? How could we trust each other?

Martin rolled over on top of me, sliding his hips between my legs. I did nothing to stop him. Our faces were inches from each other. We sat there, gazing into each other's eyes before he said, "We should start over."

"How?" I asked.

He thought about it for a minute before a smile spread on his face. With new energy, he hopped out of bed and said, "Get dressed."

"What?

"Put some clothes on." He repeated. Then, looking me up and down, he added, "Wear a skirt."

I didn't know what he was up to, but I recognized that gleam in his eye. So, I did as I was told.

It was a pleasantly warm night outside. The wind against my bare legs felt nice, and the thin material of my sundress allowed for me to feel everything in the evening air.

As we drove, there was little conversation. Martin was deep in thought, and I was just looking around at the scenery passing by from the passenger window. My mind was racing, trying to rearrange the jigsaw puzzle of our marriage. Everything about the past two decades seemed different with the new knowledge I now possessed.

My mind snapped back to the present when he pulled into an IHOP. I turned to him with questioning eyes, wondering what he was up to. He looked at me with a grin before saying, "Do you know where we are?"

"Uhhh...yeah. We're at an IHOP." I said with a shrug.

"Just any old IHOP?"

I looked at my surroundings a second time, now realizing that something felt familiar. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. And then, it dawned on me.

"Wait a minute. Martin, is this..."

"Yep. This is the IHOP we went to after that college party we met at."

Now, my face was lighting up as I looked around me. It was surreal seeing how the passage of time changed things. Back then, this IHOP was a lone restaurant for at least a couple miles. There were trees on either side of it. Now, other stores and restaurants had been added, but this place remained just as it was.

The nostalgia of seeing this place sent me back to that party. How grown up I felt hanging out with college guys! I thought I was so sophisticated. I was the young girl with big, fantastic dreams of moving to New York. I was going to live in one of those luxurious apartments, work a super cool cultured job like Art Appraisal, and eat sushi at two in the morning. My life was going to be one, big "Sex and the City" episode after another.

So naïve! At that party, I was but a gazelle in a den of hungry lions. All around me were drooling teeth, waiting for a juicy steak. That night was going to end with a cock in my tight little pussy. Or ass. Or both.

Little did I know how much my life was going to change that night.

"C'mon." Martin said as he opened the door and stepped out.

Martin had a pretty big truck, so like the gentleman he was, he jogged around to my side to help me out. I noticed his eyes dancing around my bare legs as he did so, trying to catch a glimpse up my skirt. It was so pervy, just like that night all those years ago.

I wasn't hungry, but that wasn't the point of tonight. Martin ordered for both of us, and if memory serves me correctly, we ordered the same thing we ate that night.

The best thing about it was we talked. He told me about his real job, the people he worked with, and what kinds of things he did. He was very vague, but I got the picture. If I was that girl he met, I would've jumped his bones right there. His job sounded exciting and dangerous.

But sitting there listening, all I could think about were the times he could've been killed without me even knowing it. What would I have done without him? How would I go on living? And, if he'd been killed during my week with Danny, how would I have lived with the guilt of fucking my nephew while my husband was coughing up blood in some foreign hospital bed?

The thought of losing Martin made me realize just how precious he was to me. And that thought made me angry.

"If you die over in some god-forsaken country and leave me here, I will commit suicide just so I can yell at you for all eternity!" I said semi jokingly. There was still a tinge of bitterness in my voice.

"Deal." He said, taking me up on my joke with a smile. When he saw I wasn't laughing, his hand reached across the table and grabbed mine. "It's not gonna happen, baby. I'm done with field work. You're now married to the boring guy who sits behind a desk."

"I was already married to that guy!" I said, emotion seeping out of me. "How can I trust that's who you are now?"

I could see him struggling to find a way to calm me. Honestly, there was no way to calm me. Trust was shattered. I'd believe anything about him at that point, down to the smallest rumor.

But then again, I wasn't exactly Little Miss Innocent over here. Far from it. The same questions I had for him, he probably had for me.

We had to start somewhere. If we were going to make it, we had to move forward and stop looking back.

I squeezed his hand and said, "Promise me, Martin. Promise me you won't put yourself at risk like that again. I can't lose you. If you give me your word, I'll believe you."

Lifting my hand to kiss it, he said, "I promise, Ronnie. I'm done with that. Nothing is worth me losing you."

We left IHOP, and I assumed we were going home. But there was a second part of that evening all those years ago, one that I was forgetting. Martin, however, remembered vividly. It wasn't until we were at that lookout point, the one overlooking the city, that I knew.

He killed the engine. Then he looked at me. As our eyes met, he made his move. And now, I understood the reason why he wanted me to wear a skirt.

Thinking back to this scenario years ago, it's a wonder how life changes things. I remembered being so nervous, waiting for him, wondering what he was thinking. Was he going to kiss me? Was he going to touch me? Were we going to have sex?

But now, things were different. We were different.

We practically attacked each other. I don't know where my panties went. All I knew was that they were gone, and his pants were around his ankles. My skirt was flipped up and my bare ass was pulled onto his lap. I could feel his throbbing cock against my vulva. I sat on it for a minute, not putting it inside. I wasn't as thirsty as I was all those years ago. Now, he was going to wait until I was ready to be fucked.

I kissed him, deep and passionately. I grinded my pussy against his thick cock, my lips spreading across that big vein in the middle of his shaft like it was riding horseback. As I grinded, his skin rubbed across my clit. Waves of pleasure warmed my groin.

If I'd known then what I knew now, I might have orgasmed that night. Tonight, I was going to rectify that. Tonight, I was going to cum all over Martin's cock. More than once.

His hands went down to my ass and grabbed the cheeks. I felt him spreading me apart, his fingers pressing into the skin. This only made me wetter.

I grinded against him faster and faster. With my juices providing lubrication, my clit glided easily across that vein.

"Oh fuck!" I gasped as I realized that I was about to cum without even being penetrated.

Faster and faster my hips bucked. Harder and harder I grinded. Closer and closer I drew to that orgasm. Shorter and shorter my breaths became.

He knew I was about to cum. He saw it. As he looked into my eyes, he slapped my ass hard and said, "Cum for me, Ronnie."

That loud smack and that delicious sting on my bare bottom threw me over the cliff. I buried my face into his neck as I groaned out, "UUUUGGGGGGHHHH!"

Before I even had a chance to recover, he lifted my ass with one hand, guided his cock with the other, and sat me down on it. I was so wet that he sank into my pussy with ease, all the way to the hilt.

Now, it was his turn.

He impaled me on his hard cock repeatedly. His thickness spread me open so wonderfully. The sounds of wet pussy and skin slapping mixed with the smell of sex and sweat.

My fingernails dug into the fabric of his headrest, gripping almost as tightly as Martin was holding my ass. There would probably be bruising tomorrow. He was thrusting up into me, using the force of his powerful legs to bounce me up. With his hands guiding me and keeping me on his cock, gravity did the rest as I was slammed back down onto his lap.

"Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" I grunted gutturally as I was fucked. He wasn't going to last long. I could tell. My pussy was too wet, and it was hugging his thickness way too snugly.

Not even a few thrusts later, he proved me right when he cried out, "Oh god, Ronnie! I'm about to cum!"

"Do it." I goaded him, whispering into his ear between my moans.

With a final forceful thrust, I felt the pulsing of his cock as he released into me. I felt his breathing on my neck as he relished in the relief of unloading into a warm, wet pussy.

It took a minute for us to come down from that. We sat there and hugged with his cock slowly deflating inside of me. The only sound filling the cab now was us catching our breaths.

It felt nice, holding him. This may have been a rerun of our first time together, but there was so much more here than that night many years ago. A lifetime of laughs, cries, highs, and lows passed our sweaty bodies.

As we gazed into each other's eyes, that boyish grin that I love so much adorned his lips as he said, "Hi. Nice to meet you. My name is Martin."

"Hey Martin. Veronica. Nice to meet you too."

He raised his open hand, like he wanted me to shake it. I did, giggling as I did so. Then, I placed a soft, prolonged kiss on his lips. No tongue.

"I think I'll keep you." I said to him.

We laughed together. It was nice. Yes, this was a new beginning for us.

***

TWO YEARS LATER

The doorbell rang, and I think I broke the sound barrier running to the door. When I swung it open, my smile spread across my face.

"Where is he?" I asked impatiently.

Chris and Sara looked at each other with a chuckle. Then, Chris held up the baby carrier that contained the precious cargo I was looking for.

"And hello to you to, mother. I'm doing well. Thanks for asking."

I waved him off and grabbed the carrier from him. All of us migrated towards the living room where I was able to see my precious grandson for the first time. Carefully, I lifted him from his seat and held him in my arms as I sat back on the sofa.

"Oh my god! He's so beautiful!" I awed. He was so...perfect. Blue eyes like his dad, ears like his mom, and an angelic face like both put together.

"Hi, Connor! It's granny! Granny's here! Yes, I am!" I cooed lovingly in a baby voice. His little, tiny hand held my finger as he gave me a gummy smile.

I remembered holding Chris when he was this size. I remembered that same smile looking up at me, those same eyes trusting me with his very life. It seemed like only yesterday I was this scared 19-year-old girl with a brand-new baby wondering how I was going to take care of him when I could barely take care of myself.

Martin, who was off in his office, came into the room. After greeting his son and daughter in law, he came and sat beside me, only he was perched up on the arm of the sofa. He smiled down at his grandson as I played with him. He looked up at Chris and Sara with an approving nod.

In the briefest of moments, I wished I'd had another one. Yes, it would pass, and my logical brain would kick back in. I knew that. But at that moment, I was running a high temperature with my baby fever.

Connor was not to be our only visitor. Chris' phone chimed. He checked it, and then said, "Uh...Connor's not the only person that came with us."

He sounded a bit apprehensive, almost like he was giving news he needed us to sit down for. And he looked at me when he spoke, as if he were warning me directly. As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Martin was about to get up to answer it, but Chris waved him off. "I got it." He said before disappearing into the foyer.

He returned moments later. "Look who I found just wandering the streets!" he joked, though it seemed like he was trying too hard to sound hearty. We all looked up to see Danny walking in.

My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. I felt like someone set off a bomb in my stomach as I looked upon the nephew that I hadn't seen in over two years.

He was...stunning. So different than the Danny who was forced into exile by my selfish actions. His long, unkempt hair was cut shorter and styled. Gone were the glasses he wore; I'm assuming replaced by contact lenses. The pale skin of yesteryear was now nicely tanned, and the casual clothing that hung on his body was a step up from the faded jeans and old T-shirts he used to wear. Even his shadow of a beard was trimmed.

"Danny." I whispered, his name coming from my lips in a breath.

I could see Chris' eyes dart to me warily, like he was gauging my reaction. I don't know what he was looking for from me. Maybe a hint that I was over Danny, or a sign that I was still in love with him, or just worry that I'd tip off my husband to the secret. Neither he nor Danny was aware that Martin already knew the whole sordid truth already.