Page 5 of Stalked By the Soldier

As I climb up to my apartment, I can't help but replay every moment of our date – from the cozy restaurant to browsing the bookstore and finally this innocent yet intimate goodnight kiss on the cheek.

Brandon. The soldier who I suddenly feel like I’ve known forever.

CHAPTER THREE

Brandon

I slip my hand into Erica's as we wander through the maze of canvases and sculptures, her fingers a perfect fit with mine. Her laugh is a melody that hooks deep in my chest, more captivating than any piece of art we've passed today.

"Look at this one," she says, pulling me toward an abstract splash of colors that I can't make heads or tails of. But the way her eyes light up, like she's just stumbled upon buried treasure, makes me want to see the world through her lens.

"Explain it to me," I say, because half the fun is listening to her talk, seeing her get all fired up about brush strokes and symbolism.

She tilts her head, studying the chaos on the canvas before diving into an explanation about emotion and expression. I catch maybe one word in three, but her passion—it's fucking infectious.

"Brandon, are you even listening?" Erica nudges me with a teasing smile, and I have to grin back.

"Every word," I lie.

"Sure," she chuckles, giving me a playful shove. It's our thing—her knowing I'm full of it but loving me anyway. Or so I hope.

"Come on, let's grab some air," I suggest, leading her out of the gallery. The city park waits outside, drenched in sunset hues, its paths winding like ribbons through verdant lawns.

We take a leisurely stroll, her head occasionally resting against my shoulder. I memorize these moments, storing them as if they're precious metals, because who knows how long before I'm shipped off again.

"Are you hungry?" Erica asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Starving, but first, I've got a surprise." I can't help the excitement bubbling in my voice as I pull two tickets from my pocket. "Tonight, your favorite band is playing downtown."

Her mouth drops open, and I swear her eyes are brighter than the stars beginning to prick the evening sky. "Brandon! How?"

"Let's just say I have my ways," I wink, and her laughter fills the space between us.

Fast forward, and there we are, right in the heart of the concert frenzy. The thumping bass echoes in my ribcage, somehow in sync with my heartbeat. Erica's dancing beside me, her body a mesmerizing rhythm I'm itching to match.

"Come on, soldier, show me what you've got!" she shouts over the music, grinning wide and wicked.

And damn if I don't rise to the challenge. Our bodies move together, getting lost in the beats, the lyrics, the sheer energy of the crowd around us. She sings along, slightly off-key but totally unashamed, and it's the hottest thing ever.

"Kiss me, Brandon!" she yells, and it's not a request—it's a command. One I'm all too happy to obey.

Our lips crash together, and it's like fireworks and lightning strikes all at once. It's messy and desperate and perfect, and I pour everything I am into that kiss. We're not just dancing now. We're creating something new, something wild.

"Erica," I murmur against her lips, and her name is a prayer, a promise, a plea.

"More," she breathes out, and we're kissing again, hands roaming, hearts racing.

The band plays on, but for us, they might as well be a million miles away. We're in our own world now—a world where every note is a caress, every drumbeat a heartbeat, and the night is ours for the taking.

I feel my cock growing hard, and it takes everything in me not to throw her onto the floor and hump her like a rabid dog in front of everyone.

I resist—but just barely.

* * *

I'm a bundle of nerves, sitting across from Erica in this dimly lit café that's become our haven away from the world. My hands are fidgety on the table, and there's this knot in my stomach that's been tightening all evening. It's time, I decide. Time to let her in on the part of me that's still marching in formation, even when I'm out of uniform.

I need her to know the truth. I don’t want any secrets from her. She needs to know the type of man that I really am.

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