Love on a Battlefield Read online

  Stop being cheesy, I chided. So he’s hot. Don’t turn him into a fricking poem.

  I replaced the cork, slung my bottle over my shoulder by the leather thong, smiled at him, and rejoined my father.

  As we lined up on the battlefield the next day, I saw that shock of auburn hair straight across from me. Before I could make eye contact, the battle had begun, horses moving, gunfire blasting, and a few men already collapsing to the ground, probably playing out some real-life soldier’s tragic end. Rather than giving the early-outs much thought, I looked back to that boy. I was curious about him, but before I was killed prematurely and seriously disappointed my father, I got my head in the game and regained my focus. I took out several Union soldiers with my fake munitions before I tripped over a rock. As I regained my footing and stood up, he was right in front of me.

  I don’t recall if we gave each other a visual cue or if he said something, but we both decided to take a hit, bodies falling to the ground. We landed face-to-face, limbs sprawled out in opposite directions. My father was near, so I slammed my eyes shut, authenticating my death until I heard his voice move away with the continuing battle building.

  When I dared open my eyes again, the Yankee soldier was staring at me, smiling and licking his lips. His jaw was strong, defined, dusted with stubble from who-knew-how-many-days growth, and it drew my attention to his chin and full lips. We lay there studying each other for several minutes, shamelessly staring, before he scooted closer.

  So close I could feel his breaths wash across my eyelids and forehead.

  I didn’t know what was happening, but I didn’t hesitate long enough to question it. I just acted on impulse and sighed. It sounded contented, and if I were being completely honest, a little bit pathetic. But finally I was able to talk to this guy I’d been admiring from afar.

  He licked his lips and whispered, “I’m Shep,” barely loud enough for me to hear over the gunfire.

  “I’m Andrew.” I smiled at him, earning one in return. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen. You?”

  “Same. We should hang out after supper. I’m camped out over by the line of apple trees.” He used his eyebrows to gesture over my hip.

  “I can’t. Not until the battle is over tomorrow. My father’s strict about fraternizing with the enemy.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Sneak out,” he said, desperation leaking through his voice. “Tonight, by the water pump. Meet me after your father’s gone to sleep.” I nodded, ever so slightly.

  As we continued to study each other’s faces, the battle moved off over a ridge behind Shep, getting farther and farther away. He closed the distance between us, and I didn’t know what he was going to do. I started to panic, nearly pulling away, but I stopped myself.

  He hesitated, looked at me for permission, and then put his damp lips on my forehead, drawing them together in a kiss. My breath caught. I was nervous but relished in the sensation of the air rushing against my skin, the way his touch lingered. Just as the last bit of moisture evaporated, I pressed my lips to his forehead, tasting the saltiness there.

  Then, I got far enough away so I could see him clearly, yet close enough I could still feel his breaths on me. We relaxed there until the battle had been won, staring into each other’s eyes, and I tried to memorize his face.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement and quickly told him, “Tonight,” before feigning death once again.

  *

  The sun couldn’t set fast enough, but my father decided Mother Nature wouldn’t dictate his sleep schedule that night. He chose to stay up and socialize with his friends, smoking his pipe and drinking liquor that someone had probably made in their bathtub. It must’ve been a strong brew because, after only four swigs, his speech was slurring.

  Helping him back to our tent, I got him to lie down on his bedroll before I pulled off my wool jacket. I left my unbleached muslin shirt on but searched through my bag for a pair of shorts and sandals to slip on.

  On my way over to the water pump, my stomach flip-flopped. The whole journey I questioned what I was about to do. Twice I almost turned around. But then I saw him, hair shining in the moonlight, and my feet were magically drawn to him. His back was to me as he leaned against the pump, shoes partially submerged in the ever-present puddle under the nozzle.

  “Hello, Shep,” I barely managed to get out.

  Spinning around, he caught my eye and then instantly reached for my hand, leading me behind the apple trees and beyond a line of tall shrubs. He stopped and turned to me, grabbing my other hand and looking into my eyes as if he was searching for an answer to a question I didn’t know I’d been asked. The moon spilled its ethereal glow over his beautiful features and I was utterly taken in by him.

  Placing his hand in the center of my chest, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, as if he were trying to hear my heartbeat. I mimicked his actions and felt his heart race under my fingertips. I drew closer to him until I felt his warm body pressed against mine.

  I slipped his buttons through hand-stitched buttonholes as he worked on mine. Soon, a warm breeze floated past my chest as my shirt was drawn over my shoulders, allowed to slide down my arms and fall to the grass. Slipping my fingers under coarse fabric, over the warmth of his shoulders, I pushed his shirt behind him and heard it land with a soft rustle.

  We came together, skin-to-skin, heat against heat. My nipples grazed his smooth chest, sending a rush of exquisite delight throughout my body. The warmth of his breath darted past my ear and down my neck before I felt his tongue run from my shoulder to my earlobe. I groaned at the sensation and tilted my head, inviting him to stay. He tugged me closer.

  Giving myself over to instinct, I lost all inhibition and sought out his plush mouth. He answered by opening to me. He was silken, so I deepened our kiss, allowing our tongues to twirl and dance.

  After pulling me down to the ground, he lay beside me. Languid, dreamy kisses that seemed to go on all night were only interrupted by soft moans and sighs. I was lost in Shep’s mouth, never wanting to find my way back home if it meant having to leave this feeling behind.

  He shifted to lie on top of me, grinding his hips into me. “Is this okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. Oh, god, yes!”

  My body surged at the glorious friction created as he thrust against me, and I reached around, grabbing to pull him closer. We rocked and shifted against each other, breaths coming out in rushed huffs, kisses forgotten as we rode this wave of pleasure. Holding his weight up on his forearms, his thrusts became more powerful as he used my shoulders for leverage.

  Looking into my eyes, gazing at me with the same passion he had when we’d rested dead on the battlefield, he said my name. “Andrew.” It rolled off his lips, causing them to purse.

  “Shep,” I moaned, barely able to control myself.

  He rested his forehead against mine and thrust harder. I cried out his name again as my body surged. Seconds later he flexed above me, my name on his lips as he shuddered through his release.

  He collapsed on top of me, his extra weight a wonderful addition to my euphoria.

  It kept me from floating away.

  Our breaths smoothed, evened out into contented sighs as we nuzzled against each other. Shep kissed down the column of my neck and across my chest before he made his way back up. Capturing my lips in his, he kissed me with desperation.

  Eventually he pulled away with a laugh and said, “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow.” It was the only word that fit.

  He pulled two large leaves from a shrub. We quickly cleaned ourselves up⁠—the best we could with foliage⁠—and he lay down beside me again, pressing into my shoulder, facing the stars above us.

  Reaching for my hand, our fingers entwined, the heat from him searing this moment into my skin. We watched in silence as wispy clouds passed, hiding and revealing the pinpricks of light.

  3

  I awoke to the clatter of tin pots and the clang of cast-iron
pans on the other side of the trees, the predawn light casting a glow on Shep, still beside me. Peacefully, he rested, lips pushed out like he was waiting for my kiss, arm thrown across my chest. Leaning in, I kissed his sleep-soft mouth before saying his name. He blinked his eyes open and looked around, as if trying to remember where he was.

  “Camp is stirring,” I whispered. “I heard the cooks. We need to get back to our beds.”

  “My flight leaves at six tonight, so we’ll leave soon after the battle.” His eyes were sad.

  Standing, we pulled each other into a desperate embrace, knowing this would probably be the last time we could touch each other so openly, if we could ever touch at all. We knew nothing about each other aside from first names, how each other tasted, and the noises we made when aroused.

  Walking back to my tent, my legs became heavier with each step, as if I was heading toward my doom. When my head hit my bedroll, a slow grin spread as a movie of what I’d just done with Shep ran through my mind.

  I didn’t want to forget.

  I pulled my journal out of my pack as quietly as I could and wrote down everything. My father still snored as I tucked my words away and tried to get some rest.

  *

  I woke again, this time to my father’s morning-rough voice. “Soldiers don’t have time to sleep when they’re preparing for battle, boy.”

  He could never let it go.

  I spent the morning in my abrasive, gray coat, running my fingers through the grass as the battle was planned around me, tuning people out, internally sighing when someone was overly passionate about one thing or another. I no longer cared about the game, so I made my own plans to find Shep, seize his hand, and run into the trees where I could feel his soft lips against my skin again.

  When lining up for battle, I searched the blue uniforms, looking for that unmistakable copper hair. Panic rushed through me as I scanned and scanned with no success. My father mistook my increased breaths as excitement for battle, cajoling me about how amazing serving in the military could be, despite knowing that wasn’t at all in my plans.

  He’d missed out on fighting in any wars, born too late or too early for any major US battles, which was why he played at being a soldier at these events. I was convinced of that.

  “You could experience the real thing then. Feel the power of a military-grade weapon in your hand.”

  I was on the cusp of reminding him of my college plans when the battle began.

  I played my part, but the entire time I searched my opposition for the one person I wanted to hold.

  Had he left already? Where did he live? I didn’t even know his last name, so there was no way to hunt him down.

  My heart beat a mile a minute and my breaths hitched at the thought of never seeing Shep again. Running away from my father, across the field and parallel to the action, I made my way toward the tree line. Lying on the ground was a mess of auburn hair, and as I approached, blue eyes looked at me and smiled, his mouth following suit.

  Pretending to take a hit, I collapsed to the ground, my broken body lying next to his, an arm thrown across my forehead for dramatic effect. We turned so we were on our sides, face-to-face, my bicep shielding our conversation from the soldiers around us. Our reenactment looked realistic. Little did they know, Shep and I shifted closer, inch-by-inch, until our lips could touch.

  I sighed as soon as our flesh connected. All the panic tied in a knot in my gut unfurled and dropped to the ground as our lips met. Shep smiled and laughed into my kiss.

  “I couldn’t find you and I got worried that you left,” I admitted.

  “No, my dad just wanted me to fight a little longer, so he moved me to the end of the line. I guess he thought I’d be less vulnerable. Yesterday he saw me fall early on. Little does he know, I wanted to take a hit so I could spend some time with a handsome guy in gray.” He smiled a mega-watt smile that I couldn’t help but reciprocate.

  “You said you were getting on a plane. Where do you live?”

  “California. Wine country.”

  “Really? The Civil War and California, especially wine country, don’t go together in my head at all.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, my dad is serious about history. Wants me to get up close and personal with it so it’s not repeated. When I get back, I’ll have research papers to write and essays. He might even make me do a presentation.”

  “Really?”

  “Dead serious.” Shep laughed then. “But at least I’m getting college credits. My dad’s a history professor, and I’ve done a lot of independent study on our travels. We’ve reenacted battles all over the world, gone to memorials and museums. The traveling is fun, but I’m not a huge fan of Texas, to be honest. It’s not Italy or France, but …” His smile widened and he brushed a thumb over my bottom lip. “Wow, I’m glad I came this time.”

  “Me too.”

  “Where do you live?” His face was so expressive when he spoke, brows lifting and furrowing on certain words, eyes sparkling, and his lips simply begged to be noticed. He cleared his throat.

  I’d been caught staring.

  I licked my lips. “I live in Austin. Been there all my life and will probably live within a few hundred miles the rest of it.” I shrugged, knowing it sounded simple of me to want to stay in Texas, especially when compared to his European adventures. But I was being truthful. I knew what I wanted for my future, and all my dreams were centered close to home.

  “I hope to live a year here and a year there, travel the world, go wherever the breeze takes me.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Despite sharing what we had last night, it was obvious we were from two different worlds.

  The silence started to make me feel itchy. “I’m Andrew Summers, by the way.”

  “Oh, I’m Shep Wells. It’s good to meet you, Andrew.” He winked.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks and I was sure my face was blooming.

  “I think we moved far past formal introductions last night.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. The fact that he could talk about last night and still look me in the eye told me a lot about Shep.

  I’m sure my wayward glances told him a lot about me too.

  His hand found mine, and he slowly brushed his fingers across my knuckles. Instinctively I flipped it, sighing at the touch of his palm against mine.

  “I wish we didn’t have to lie here. I wish we could go into the trees so I could properly kiss you,” he told me.

  I wanted that too, more than anything.

  “We’re close to the trees,” I whispered. “Do you think we can escape without being missed?” I was unable to see the action behind me.

  “I’m not sure. The battle has moved off, but there are still a few observers hanging back.” He glanced around, scoping things out, before saying, “I’ll go first, then you follow after a few minutes.” Shep stood up, pretending to have a stomach wound, as he staggered into the trees.

  I watched as he hid behind a large tree trunk, crouched down and waiting for me. When he nodded, I made my way toward him, feigning a leg injury.

  As soon as we were out of sight, we took off running through the trees, stopping only when we were hidden in a row of a large cornfield. Surrounded by green, we could hear the battle continue in the distance. Crushing his lips to mine, Shep released a wanton moan, which somehow urged me to explore his body. I didn’t know where this was headed, but holding him felt so right.

  Jackets fell to the ground, followed by hats and muslin shirts. Blue and gray commingling on the firm, brown earth. Rubbing our chests together, feeling our nipples brush against each other, my woolen pants tightened. Smelling the musky hint of cologne, I buried my face in his neck, trying to savor it, file it away in my memories. Shep’s hand snaked between us and released the pewter buttons on my fly. Then he knelt before me.

  Looking up at me through his dark lashes, he asked, “Have you ever?”

  I could barely breathe, so I shook my head and confesse
d, “You’re the first.”

  “Should I stop?”

  “No.” I was positive I wanted this to happen.

  He slid my pants and underwear down to my knees and sat there looking at my erect cock, licking his lips as he stared. Watching his mouth made me twitch. He reached for me, wrapping his long fingers around my length and kissing the crown.

  My head fell back at the sensation. I had no clue this could feel so exquisite.

  Tentatively wrapping his lips around the head, he pressed his tongue to my slit, flattening across the top, and then moving under the ridge to tease. The varied sensations dragged a deep groan from my chest, a sound completely foreign to me. Gently sucking, he slid his wet lips down my shaft, tightening as he returned to the head. He stroked me, twisting and squeezing as he lipped and tongued me.

  Standing there amidst the corn, I hoped my knees wouldn’t give out as the sensations started to overwhelm me. I reached for his sweat-damp hair, tangling my fingers in it and holding on for dear life. My belly tightened, my balls drew up tight …

  “Shep, I’m gonna …” I tried to move him out of the way, but he palmed me, keeping me close. He enveloped me as I spent down his throat. He swallowed, causing me to gasp as the muscles in his throat moved and massaged me. I watched as he slid his tongue up my shaft, traced under the ridge, sucked the head into his mouth, and then gently kissed the tip with reverence. The sight weakened me.

  My knees settled into the dark earth, and I pushed Shep onto his back. I crawled up his body and placed appreciative kisses to the center of his chest, on his rosy nipples, and along his neck. Wrapping his fingers in my hair, he tightened his grip and pulled me to his mouth. Not sure I wanted to taste myself, I kept our kisses chaste, to Shep’s obvious disappointment. He whined before he slid his tongue across the seam of my mouth. Instinctively, my tongue darted out and I tasted my essence left behind.

  At least this way I knew what I was getting myself into.

  It wasn’t bad. Not like I’d expected.

  I opened to him and our twirling dance from last night resumed. The feel of him on my tongue made my heart sing. There was nothing in the world that could compare to this sensation.