Flying Monkeys

  “Oh, god.” She closed her eyes.

  “What?” the men asked.

  She laughed. “Well, not that I have a problem taking you home to meet them, but you realize that once they know I’m done with the military, and that I have not one guy but two, they will be pestering me for grandkids, right? They’re going to tell me I have no excuse.”

  Kilo laughed. “I think we could handle that.”

  “If you want kids,” Foxtrot added.

  “I’d never really thought about it before.”

  “Why not?” Foxtrot asked.

  She shrugged and looked down at her lap where their hands were loving clasped around hers. “Never had a relationship before where it was something I seriously considered. The military wasn’t just my work, but my life. I knew I wouldn’t have it easy on the outside and never thought about leaving, really. I figured I’d be married to my job until they finally put me on desk duty because I failed my medical or something.”

  “What about fun?” Kilo asked.

  She snorted. “What the hell is that?” Taking a deep breath, she let it out again. “I guess I have a lot to learn about having fun and relaxing.”

  “That’s okay,” Foxtrot said. “We can teach you.”

  “And we’ll have fun doing it,” Kilo added.

  Together, they leaned in and kissed her behind the ears, nibbling, sending shivers of pleasure up and down her spine.

  How the two of them had wormed their way into her heart and soul, she didn’t know.

  She didn’t care.

  She didn’t want to question it.

  She just wanted to feel. With them.

  And she had to admit they were fun. Yes, they were business and all about their mission, but in the spare time they could afford it, they’d shown her more fun than she’d had in…well, ever.

  And how sad a person was she for that?

  They eased her back onto the bedroll, their other hands still laced with hers. Closing her eyes, she tried to shut off her brain as they worked their way down her neck. Kilo freed his hand and reached up, unbuttoning her shirt, parting the fabric as he worked his way down to her waist and pulled the tails out of her trousers.

  Still working together, they freed her of that, her undershirt, and the sports bra she wore. Their lips feathered around and down, each man latching on to her breasts and drawing a sharp breath of pleasure from her.

  Tangling her hands in their hair, she held on to their heads, wanting to keep them right there forever. So much perfection in this moment, so much passion.

  As a team, the men worked by feel and got her belt and trousers undone and shoved them and her panties down her hips enough their fingers could slip between her legs.

  Eyes still tightly shut, she began kicking at her aggravating restriction until she got them and her panties kicked out into the darkness. She heard them hit the floor, then the sound of both of her men softly moaning around her breasts as their hands now had unfettered access to her pussy.

  One of the men played with her clit. The other slid one, then a second finger into her pussy. She didn’t care which did what, they both knew her and her body and she figured they’d probably take turns anyway.

  And either way, she was the benefactor of their attention, so it was all good.

  Inside their trousers, pressed against her thighs, she felt their cocks go rigid, straining for release. Yet still they took their time, each pull of their mouths on her nipples sending pleasant jolts straight to her clit.

  Yeah, she’d had good sex before.

  Never anything this good.

  This wasn’t just pleasure. This was love.

  Pleasure built, teased from her by their hands, their mouths. Her clit throbbed as the men took their time. The two fingers in her pussy slowly fucked her, working deeper with each thrust. It didn’t take long, all the stress of the cross-country trip melting away, all thoughts and cares slipping from her brain as passion shoved those things out the mental door and locked it behind them.

  Nothing but them, there, with her.

  She bit down on her lower lip when the envelope ripped open and her orgasm swept through her. Their hands moved faster, teeth gently grazing her nipples as they pushed, led, carried her through a long, rolling cloud of pleasure and release that seemed to have no end. Only when they were satisfied she’d had enough did their hands fall still and they finally lifted their heads from her breasts.

  Opening her eyes, she laughed as she spotted their nearly identical smiles.

  And they were both still dressed.

  “Pleased with yourselves?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” Kilo said. With a smile he sucked his fingers into his mouth, allowing her to identify who’d been where.

  The men stood up and quickly stripped before returning to her side. Kilo rolled her on top of him, reaching between her legs to guide his cock into her wet pussy. They both let out content sighs as she fully impaled herself on him.

  Foxtrot knelt behind her and stroked her ass. “I know what I want, baby,” he said, patting her ass cheeks. She felt him lean over and reach for something in his bag before he was back. “Lean forward, baby. Time to fill you up.”

  She did, kissing Kilo as he reached down and spread her ass cheeks for his partner. The cool feel of lube drizzling down the seam of her ass drew another moan from her, and then again when Foxtrot started playing with her puckered rim, teasing her, pressing a finger against her flesh as he worked lube around it.

  With Kilo’s cock embedded in her cunt, and her swollen, sensitive clit rubbing against his body, she slowly rocked her hips and tried to get Foxtrot to go a little faster.

  He planted his free hand splayed across her lower back. “Patience, baby. Good things are waiting for those who want to come.”

  Both she and Kilo laughed. She broke their kiss and cast a glance over her shoulder at Foxtrot, who wore a playful grin. “Get your cock in my ass, buddy. That’s an order.”

  “Thought rank didn’t count, hmm?”

  He had a point. “It doesn’t. But hell hath no fury, and all that.”

  “Hey, you already came once. We’re allowed to take our time if we want.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Kilo said. “Your cock isn’t dying to fuck her silly.”

  He looked down. “I beg to differ with you. Is, too.”

  “Your cock isn’t inside her already.”

  “True.” Foxtrot arched an eyebrow at her as his finger slowly breached her rim. “Like that?”

  Her eyes fell closed. She nodded, softly moaning. “Yeah.” She started kissing Kilo again, flexing her hips to encourage Foxtrot to move faster, deeper.

  Yes, she’d had anal before meeting these men. And she’d enjoyed it.

  If she’d realized what she’d been missing by doubling her pleasure, she might have gone poly years ago.

  After a few minutes, Foxtrot had worked up to three fingers and had her moaning loudly into Kilo’s mouth. Those moans turned to whines as he withdrew his hand.

  “Hold on, hold on, geez,” he teased. “Gimme a sec.” She heard him pull out wipes and clean up his hand. Then the sound of a condom pouch ripping open. Soon enough, the lubed, condom-clad head of his cock pressed against her ass.

  She rose up a little, enough to plop back down and speed things up, deeply impaling herself on both the cocks.

  “Wow, you are in a hurry,” Foxtrot teased. He grabbed her hips while Kilo’s hands slid up, one hand fisting her braid, the other wrapped around her. While Foxtrot worked his cock all the way into her ass, Kilo fucked his cock up into her pussy.

  She relished the stretching, pinching burn that quickly turned into pleasure as she started finding her own rhythm between them. Feeling Foxtrot’s thighs pressed against hers, she knew he was all the way in.

  This was soooo good. She started rocking, angling her hips until she discovered the sweet spot and let out another moan.

  Kilo let go of her, cupping her breasts and pla
ying with her nipples. “How about that, baby?”

  “Uh-huh!” That was what she needed. That little extra biting pleasure helped start her climb again. Her clit, her G-spot, and now her nipples, they were dialing her in and focusing her pleasure right where she needed it.

  “Come on, baby,” Foxtrot said. “We’ve got all night if we need it. Ride one out for us.”

  She braced her hands on Kilo’s pecs and proceeded to do just that, harder, faster, until she felt the spiral tightening and then…

  It was like hot lava washed over her, her body’s muscles wanting to tighten and let loose all at once. Her toes curled as the men took their cue and started fucking her faster, harder, keeping her climax going, bouncing along until she felt Kilo, then Foxtrot both orgasm and add their moans to the night air blowing around them.

  Finally, sated and sore in all the good ways, she collapsed on top of Kilo while Foxtrot collapsed on top of her.

  A moment later, she felt a desperate tapping on her shoulder.

  Opening her eyes, she looked down.

  “Baby, move,” Kilo said. “And take lard ass with you, please. I can’t breathe.”

  Lard ass laughed and pushed off them, sitting up and carefully withdrawing his softening cock from her ass. “Hey, serves you right for smacking me in the face with your balls that time.”

  “Wasn’t your face,” Kilo said after he gulped in a breath of air. “It was your chin. And it wasn’t on purpose.”

  She giggled, happy to have both her guys back.

  It felt right.

  It felt good.

  Maybe I can get the hang of this fun stuff. “You guys know how much I love you two?”

  Foxtrot kissed her on the cheek. “You can tell me when I come back from cleaning up. Love you, too.”

  She remained half draped over Kilo, who stroked her back, his wilting cock buried inside her. “Love you, too, baby,” he said, his fingers gently playing over her flesh.

  Foxtrot returned a moment later, used wipes to clean her up, then climbed into the bedroll behind her.

  Kilo rolled onto his side so Kyong could nestle herself between them, Foxtrot’s body molded along her back, their legs entwined with hers.

  Lips feathered across her shoulder. “Good night, baby. Get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow we can sleep in, for a change.”

  Kilo kissed her, brushing lips across hers. “We’ll relax and have fun, explore the island, make love in the Gulf.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Sounds like sand up my balls,” Foxtrot grumped.

  She reached behind her and lightly smacked his thigh. “Look at it as getting laid.”

  “Well, sure, when you put it like that,” he teased.

  Knowing there might be few nights like this in their very near future, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep with the sounds of the ceiling fan and the gentle Gulf waves lapping at the shore.

  Chapter Thirty

  Kyong wasn’t used to not having something to do. She’d picked up the Derring and had flown it back yesterday. It was securely moored at the dock on the inlet side of the island, visible from the buildings. Her morning routine checks of it had already been completed.

  Alpha had told her to take the rest of the afternoon off.

  When she’d hunted down Papa and talked to the CO to confirm he’d meant for her to take a break, he assured her it was all right for her to use the time off to relax and decompress before they started planning the Atlanta mission in earnest.

  As she walked the beach, barefoot and trouser cuffs rolled midway up her calves to keep her pants dry, she kept her eyes focused on the sugar sand beneath her feet, on the lookout for shark’s teeth, shells, anything that might catch her interest. Through her aviator’s glasses, everything looked darker, dimmer.

  Much like her heavy heart.

  Always close to her thoughts were Lee, Maggie, and Darrel.

  And, of course, Tuan. He would always be in her heart, always missed, always just there, out of reach and out of sight, but forever imprinted in her thoughts and mind and life.

  It’s not fair they aren’t here to see this.

  She knew it was survivor’s guilt, compounded by the fact that they were her friends and had been her responsibility.

  Then again, had they not died, had the four of them still been a crew, they likely would have been snapped up and reassigned immediately, still schlepping cargo and soldiers around and not…this.

  And she wouldn’t have met Foxtrot and Kilo.

  She wouldn’t, for the first time in her life, have a reason to look ahead and dream about what the future might hold for her beyond endless reams of meaningless forms and reports and flying time and hoping she kept passing her medicals so she didn’t get saddled with a desk job.

  Despite the humidity, the breeze off the Gulf tempered the heat and made it comfortable even in the sun. Her shadow walked ahead of her as she strolled north along the beach, head down, searching.

  Foxtrot and Kilo. What a pair. Her pair.

  Her future.

  It was hard not to feel guilty. She’d never forget her crew, her friends. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Refused to.

  All roads led her to where she now found herself.

  “Kyong.”

  It almost sounded like her name carried on the wind. She stared out at the Gulf, wondering if she was now hearing ghosts. But when she turned, in the distance she spotted two forms that she instinctively recognized were her men.

  Hers.

  It was nice to realize she felt more possessive about the two of them than she did about the Panda.

  Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

  She stopped and waited while they caught up with her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Kilo grinned. “Why do you automatically assume something has to be wrong?”

  “Force of habit and long experience.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Papa ran us out of the building and gave us the afternoon off.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he said we’d earned it.”

  “And,” Foxtrot added, “because he knows you’ll soon be spending time away from us, and I think he wants to let us get a little bit of together time in while we can before the next round of crazy starts.”

  She slowly nodded, another unusual feeling swirling through her. While she was excited to know she’d be flying again soon, she felt a wistful pang that she’d be leaving her men behind for the mission.

  And that was something she’d never felt before. Even when she’d left home for the Academy, and then for the service, she’d never felt that pang. Her all too few and brief leaves home, she’d never felt a pang when leaving again.

  This is where I belong. With them.

  Foxtrot cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”

  She smiled. “You know, at this very instant, in this very place, not a damn thing.”

  “You think I’ll ever get the hang of dealing with you?” Foxtrot teased.

  She turned and hooked her arms through theirs, tugging on them so they’d start walking with her. “Probably not, mi vida.”

  Kilo snorted, but didn’t say anything.

  “What does that mean?” Foxtrot asked.

  “At least she didn’t call you lỗ đít,” Kilo said.

  “Did you just swear at me in Spanish?” Foxtrot asked her.

  She giggled. “Nooo.” She looked up at Kilo. “I thought you couldn’t speak Vietnamese.”

  “I can’t. Just a few swear words. Those are always the easiest words to learn.”

  “What’d you call me?” Foxtrot nearly whined.

  “Learn Spanish,” the two of them said, laughing as they realized they’d parroted each other.

  “She called you ‘her life,’ moron,” Kilo said.

  “Oh.” Foxtrot stopped, which meant she and Kilo had to stop, too. He turned her to face him and kissed her. Long, slow, sweet, the hint of Gulf salt air on his l
ips.

  “You’re my life, too,” he whispered, caressing her cheek.

  Behind her, Kilo pressed in close. “We’ll take it one day at a time,” he said. “Not take a single day we’ve got together for granted.”

  She tipped her head back so she could look into Kilo’s blue eyes. “How sad is it I’ve never really let myself love before? Not like this.”

  He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I personally think it’s pretty great. It means we’re the guys lucky enough for you to take a chance on. And he’s right. You’re my life, too.”

  She didn’t cry. She was not a crier. But she pulled her shades off and tucked them in her shirt pocket, closed her eyes, and as the men pressed in even closer, enveloping her, she let the Gulf breeze carry her tears away and dry them on her cheeks.

  “They didn’t even get a funeral,” she finally whispered. “And I didn’t get to go to Tuan’s.”

  Foxtrot looked around and walked up the beach, returning with a driftwood stick. He handed it to her. “Tide’s coming in,” he softly said. “How about we honor them now?” He kissed her fingers where they curled around the wood before releasing her hand.

  She looked down at the beach, the wet, packed sand below the high-tide line where the waves and foam licked at it, as if testing it before inching higher. She stepped away from them and began to write in the sand, lengthwise, so they’d all be taken at the same time.

  Tuan Tran—Beloved Brother.

  1st Lt Darrel Richard O’Connell.

  1st Lt Maggie Lynn Porter

  2d Lt Lee Michael Andrews

  Then she added a line of writing under the names.

  Clear skies and tailwinds, until we meet again, my friends.

  She chucked the stick as far out into the surf as she could and walked up the beach to sit in the sand above their names and wait, her glasses once again firmly in place. Kilo and Foxtrot wordlessly sat on either side of her, holding her hands.

  As the tide eased in, she took deep breaths, each flick of the surf smoothing the sand until finally, an hour later, only the waves remained.

  She stood, brushing the sand off her trousers and shaking out her cuffs, re-rolling them to keep them from getting wet.