Free A is for… by L Dubois

could still remember the smell of that waiting room—coffee and old paper. She’d sat in a plastic chair until her legs went numb. She’d lied to get in there, saying she was the soldier’s fiancée, instead of his ex-girlfriend. She’d been in her final year of law school at the time and she couldn’t help but run through the ramifications if she were caught lying to the US Army. Eighteen hours after she’d gotten the terrifying phone call, and fifteen since she’d arrived at the base, a trim woman in a frumpy suit had stopped in to tell her that the boy she loved was alive. She’d pressed her hands over her face and sobbed, finally pulling herself together enough to ask when she’d be able to see him.
    They were college sweethearts who’d carried their relationship over as he went off to the army, fulfilling his ROTC obligation. She’d worked at a non-profit for a year after graduation before starting law school. He’d come back from his first tour tired and bitter, mumbling about shitty equipment and even shittier maintenance plans. She’d listened, but hadn’t really heard, too wrapped up in the drama of her first year of law school. Over the course of the next year, they’d grown apart. Anna had slipped into the polished, wealthy world of law, while the boy she loved struggled and slogged through war zones, piloting helicopters.
    The last time she’d seen him she’d dragged him to a cocktail party, despite the fact that he was due back at the base early the next morning. The firm she wanted to work for was hosting the party, and she needed to make an impression if she was going to land the all-important summer internship. She’d wanted to show off her handsome US Army Lieutenant. In the world of trim lawyers he was a gladiator, his height and imposing physique making him seem like a god among mortals.
    He’d been quiet and standoffish, finally telling someone point blank that the thing they were talking about was stupid. The night had ended with them screaming at each other, all the differences that now separated them mounting up like a wall neither one was willing to scale. He’d packed his things and left. Anna cried herself to sleep, and by the time she woke up the next morning it was too late—he was already in transit to the Middle East.
    Eighteen months later she’d received a call from the Army. He hadn’t updated his emergency contact information, and when the phone call woke her, some instinct had kept her from revealing that they hadn’t spoken in eighteen months. He’d been in a helicopter crash and was being brought home for medical treatment. She’d jumped in her car and raced down to Camp Pendleton, tears streaming down her face.
    That was three years ago.
    Anna turned her head, looked at Jensen’s scarred back. As if he felt her looking, he rolled over, rubbing a hand over his face. He blinked, then frowned.
    “Anna? You okay, love? You hurting?”
    “I’m okay.”
    “You’re crying.”
    “I am? I didn’t realize.”
    “What’s going on?” He undid the buckles on her left arm.
    “I was having a bad dream.”
    His fingers stilled. “The waiting room dream?”
    “Yes.”
    He pulled the sleeves off her. “Come here.”
    Anna cuddled against his side, breathing in his scent. He let her rest there for a while, but then his hand stroked her from collar bone to hip, fingers bumping over her nipple. “Anna, you haven’t been addressing me properly.”
    From one breath to the next, Anna’s mood went from melancholy to excited. “I’m sorry, Master.”
    He rolled her onto her belly, stroking her back and ass. “I can still see the marks from the abrasion. I like it.”
    “I liked it too, Master.”
    “And this?” His hand slipped between the cheeks of her ass, rubbing her anus. Anna sucked in a breath.
    “I’m sore, Master.”
    “But did you like it?”
    “Yes, Master.”
    He bent and kissed her ass. “I’m sorry you’re sore. I’m afraid I’m still going to