“Everything okay?” I rose from my seat and walked around to her side of the desk. I perched on it and folded my arms. “Did anyone give you trouble?”
“No, they were all helpful and polite,” she said. “That’s not it. It’s just that – this is a lot more work than I anticipated.”
“If you want out, feel free,” I replied.
“No, I don’t want out. I’m not a quitter.” She tossed her head. “I just think I’ll need some help, and I’m going to need more than one day to evaluate and plan. I – uh, I also wasn’t allowed access to some of the areas.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, there was one door they wouldn’t let me through,” she said. “A gray, metal door.”
“That’s most likely the hangar,” he said. “Nothing you can really change in there. It’s just a huge room full of helicopters.”
“Helicopters.” Her eyes lit up.
“Yeah?”
“Sorry,” she said, and giggled. “I’ve always had an obsession with them. My dad was a hobbyist. He flew RC helicopters in his free time, and yeah, I loved watching him. I never got to ride in a real one.”
“You want to take a look?” I asked. I’d lost my damn mind. She didn’t have the clearance to check out these helicopters. She probably didn’t have the capability to redecorate an entire hangar, not in the short amount of time she’d undoubtedly be given by the Commander.
Chanel clutched her clipboard to her chest. “Are you serious?”
“Sure, why not?”
“That would be, well, that’d be amazing, Ryan, thank you. I mean, Lieutenant Commander Baker.”
“Yeah, it’s probably best if you call me by my title here,” he said. “Not that I care either way.” I pushed off from the desk and strode to the door, then held it open for her. “After you, ma’am.”
She cleared her throat and brushed past me, eliciting a swarm of heat through my limbs. This close and barely touching, already thoughts streamed through my mind. Unclean, naughty. God, the things I’d do to her if I had the chance. I’d –
“This way,” I said, and cut myself off before I got a semi and made a damn fool out of myself.
We walked the path to the hangar in silence, her practical heels clicking on the tiles. Tension built between us with every step. We weren't exactly arm-in-arm, but I couldn't keep my thoughts straight or off her body, her touch, and everything in-between. We didn't pass many personnel on the way, either. Most everyone was in the mess hall or the gym at this time of the day.
"There's a lot of potential here," she said, and broke the silence.
My heart skipped a beat. "Potential?"
"Yeah. You know, with the base? It just seems like it's got loads of potential. I already have a color scheme in mind that I think will suit the place perfectly."
"That's great," I said, and swallowed. Shit, I thought she meant potential for us. What the fuck had gotten into me? I didn't need emotional attachments. The last time I'd attached to anyone, it was to the men under my command and they perished.
People died around me. That was my lot in life.
"Are you okay?" It was her turn to ask, and she touched my arm too.
I snapped it down to my side. "Fine. This is it," I said, and gestured to the steel door. Saved by the hangar and its helicopters.
I let us into the cavernous space, the ceiling yawning above us, and stepped back for her to brush past again. This time her ass swished past my crotch, and my cock twitched in response. Down boy.
“Oh wow,” she said, and hugged her clipboard to her breasts. “That’s gorgeous.”
She pointed to a helicopter, glistening in the dim light from a high up window that gave us a glimpse of the fading afternoon, the clouded sky.
“Yeah, that’s a –”
“Seahawk M-20,” she finished. “Yeah, I know. Like I said, my dad was an enthusiast.”
An enthusiast who loved military helicopters? I let it slide and shut the door instead. It didn’t plunge us into darkness, but I walked to the light switch anyway.
“Don’t,” she said.
I froze. “What?”
“Don’t turn it on.” She dropped the clipboard with a clatter, then fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Ryan,” she said. “God, I must seem like such a slut but it’s just – you – you’re – the stuff you said. You talked about our first time. I thought maybe we could have a second time?” Her fingers stalled on her buttons.
She was adorable, caught halfway between rejection and arousal.
“I want you again,” I said, and betrayed myself, my determination not to become emotionally involved again, and my entire country. That was what it felt like. It felt like a betrayal I couldn’t resist. I was drawn to her. I was attached even though I didn’t want to be. “But this probably isn’t the best place.”
“It’s better than your quarters. People would suspect something if they saw us in there, but here…”
I saw her point. And I couldn’t deny my attraction for her, or the thickening dick in my pants. Just the mention of it from her lips, the need radiating from her expression. I walked toward her.
She was stuck in place, unmoving, staring at me with her mouth half-open, caught on the verge of what? A moan? God, I fucking hoped so.
“Come with me,” I said, and grasped her hand, pulling it from her buttons.
I walked her to the helicopter, opened the side door, and we clambered inside. I slammed it shut behind us and we were embraced by gloom, and the sounds of our breathing echoed in the small space.
Chanel looked around. “I’ve always wanted to get in one of these,” she said.
“Uh huh.” My fingers slipped over her buttons. If I spoke, I’d have to think, and then the rational part of my brain would stop this from happening. I didn’t want that. I needed her like I needed air.
She was a craving and it was wrong on every level. I couldn’t come to my senses now. This proved everything Whitmore had said.
Chanel kissed my cheek, soft lips brushed across my skin, and then stubble. She let out a tiny moan.
I sped up. Opened the shirt and exposed her lacy bra, then moved my hands around to the zip on the back of her pencil skirt.
“No time,” she said, and tugged the fabric upward, over her thighs. A triangle of soft fabric, lace, see-through, peeked at me from between her legs.
I undid my belt buckle, popped my top button open and unzipped, then drew my dick out from the folds.
Chanel whimpered, licked her lips. “Hurry,” she said. “I need you.”
I grabbed her hips and spun her on the spot, then rubbed myself against her supple flesh, dragging my dick between those two round ass cheeks. I throbbed for her. Fuck it, I dripped for her.
“Please,” she whispered. “Take me now, Ryan.” Chanel quivered against me.
I brushed my fingers down the sleeves of her blouse, then encircled her waist with my arms. Then I kissed her neck. Wet, soft, open-mouthed kisses, tasting her. A hint of perfume and that addictive smell that was oh-so Chanel. The scent of her naked skin. I nibbled, then bit down harder.
“Yes,” she gasped.
I would’ve made this moment last longer. I should’ve given her what she deserved. Full attention in somewhere that provided more privacy than this, but it would have to suffice, for now.
I lowered myself behind her, shifting her blouse upward and peppering her back with more of those hot kisses. I traced the line of her spine with my lips moving over the crest of one ass cheek and then the other.
I bent her forward.
Chanel almost lost her balance, but caught herself on the door. “What are you doing?”
I parted her cheeks, admired her already dripping wet pussy, then buried my face in it. I probed her with my tongue, collected her fluid and rolled it across her clitoris.
Chanel shuddered and railed against the
pleasure. “Ryan –”
“Quiet,” I said, between licks and sucks. God, she tasted good. Clean and delicious. It was the essence of that Chanel scent and taste. I could do this forever. Lick her until she was weak at the knees.
“I – I –” Her legs wobbled.
I circled her clitoris with my tongue. Gentle motions, then a pause to draw it into my mouth.
“I’m going to explode,” she said.
“Good,” I replied. “I want you to come for me.” I wanted that more than I wanted to be inside her. Her pleasure, her loss of presence in this moment, would give me more than my own orgasm.
She stuck her ass out and gave me full access. “More,” she said.
I gave her clit a wet kiss, then inserted two fingers into her pussy.
She bucked against me and cried out.
“Not too loud.” I worked those fingers inside her, feeling for her g-spot, and licking her clit in between deep strokes.
“I need more than this,” she said.
“What?”
“I need your dick inside me. Now. Give it to me now.”
I rose and grabbed the base of my dick, teased her pussy lips with my swollen head.
“Now!” She slapped the door.
I placed my dick at her quivering entrance and braced myself. Slowly, I entered her. One inch at a time, drawing out the waves of pleasure that crashed over us both.
Chanel wasn’t interested in slow. She rammed backward, and took all of me, tightening as she did. “Oh yes. Oh God, yes.”
“You like that?”
“Uh-huh, I’m gonna come.” She worked herself on my dick, back and forth, using the helicopter’s door as leverage.
My balls tightened up, a burning sensation tickled inside me. “Me too.”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I want it all. I want all of you.”
The words drove me over the edge and into the oblivion we created together. I pounded into her, taking back the rhythm and using it for my own climax. I squirted inside her, just as her warmth closed around me.
We pulsed together, fluids mingling, and certainty hit me – this wasn’t the last time we’d do this. Not by far. I hung onto the scraps of myself, closed my eyes and dug my fingers into the flesh of her hips.
Pure pleasure – this was where I wanted to be. This was where I belonged.
Chapter 11
Chanel
I stifled a yawn behind my fist, and bumped along in the truck. Ryan didn’t look half as tired as I was, but then, he didn’t spend the entire morning and afternoon running around the base and making notes of what needed to be changed and how.
I wasn’t close to completing a potential design or mood board. I needed more time on the base and that meant collecting an overnight bag and a whole lot of disdain from my mother with it.
Ryan squeezed my thigh and I swallowed, hard. Flashes of our tryst in the helicopter cleared out my vision for a minute.
There was nothing but the full sense of him pounding inside me and the building pleasure. I shuddered.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” I replied, over the rattle of wheels on the dirt road. “Just thinking about earlier. Ryan, I – I don’t know what’s going on.”
“What do you mean?” But he removed his hand from my thigh – he knew exactly what I meant. It was ‘us,’ this weird attraction we had going on, and it made him uncomfortable.
“Forget about it.”
“No, you can talk to me, Chanel. What’s on your mind?”
“Just the base and the decorations. That’s all.”
Silence drifted between us, and I focused on the dissipating clouds over the town. Meek Springs sat against the mountain, unassuming and adorned by quaint decorative lamp posts and old school stores with glass front windows and wooden doors.
To an outsider, the town would’ve seemed pleasant – the perfect mini-getaway during the summer months – but I’d lived the truth. Trap. It was all a trap.
Everything. And now, I had a job to do away from Meek Springs and the store, and that might end up a cage of its own.
I turned my head and looked out the passenger window.
We entered the town, and the first of those quiet, cute stores swept by. It was a Sunday. Folks were either getting ready for dinner or church, whichever came first or pleased them the most.
The storm had passed, but an icy wind pricked the coats of walkers at this time of the afternoon. There weren’t many people around.
“You’re sure it’s okay for me to stay over on the base?” I asked. “Like, it’s allowed?”
“Yeah, it’s covered by the temporary contractor’s permit. I’ll contact my Commander tomorrow and confirm the extended length of your initial stay.”
“My initial stay?”
“Well, yeah. You’ll have to present your plan, and afterward, once its approved, you’ll be on base to oversee the implementation of it.”
“How do you manage to make even interior decorating sound like a mission?”
Ryan shrugged. “That’s just who I am.”
I should’ve counted my blessings that he didn’t make sex into a tactical operation. Ugh, what was with the bitterness curling through me? It was as if I’d doomed the excitement of this new ‘relationship’ from the start.
“Here we are,” Ryan said, and turned the corner into my street.
All thoughts of ‘us’ and the crazy, hot helicopter sex we had flew right outta my head.
Home. I was home to pick up the bag and I didn’t want to imagine what my mother’s reaction would be.
Ryan parked in front of the house and cut off the engine. One of the curtains in the front window flickered. God, she’d already witnessed my arrival. I didn’t get out of the truck, but clenched my fists until my knuckles whitened.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Do you want me to come inside with you?” he asked. He didn’t touch me, though. He kept his hands on the wheel, this time.
Had I ruined everything at the mere hint of talking about our dynamic?
“No. I think my mother would have a conniption if I let you into my bedroom.”
He cleared his throat. “Oh.”
“I – yeah, I’ll be right back. Just wait here.” I lingered a second longer, then opened the truck door and slipped out into the failing light. Purple dusk crept over the mountain and between the houses.
I shucked my puffy coat up my arms and buried my neck in the fabric. It still wasn’t warm enough. I bumped the truck’s door closed with my hip, then walked up the short path that led to the porch steps.
The house was eerily silent. The only sign of life the lights on upstairs in my mother’s bedroom, and the smell of a home cooked meal. My mouth watered – I hadn’t eaten all day in the rush to get things done, and my mom could cook, I’d give her that.
I traversed the stairs, crossed the yawning gap to the front, then turned the handle.
The door rattled against the jam.
“What the heck?” She locked me out? “Mom?” I rang the doorbell.
“Everything okay?” Ryan called from the truck.
I waved over my shoulder at him.
The latch on the front door snapped back, and my mother opened up and glared at me. “Where have you been?”
“Out partying,” I replied. “Mom, seriously? You know where I’ve been. I’ve been working all day. Why was the front door locked?”
“It’s late. I was protecting myself.”
“Mom, it’s 6 pm,” I replied. “And it’s Meek Springs.”
Henrietta Scott sniffed. “Well, you never know with all these strange soldiers around.” She stepped back and allowed me entry.
I walked past her and she slammed the door shut behind me, then drew the latch again. She hurried to the curtain, twitching it aside. “Why isn’t he leaving?”
“What?” I made for the stairs.
“Chanel, why isn’t that soldier leavi
ng?”
“Because he’s waiting for me,” I said, and trooped up the stairs. I hit the landing, turned left and scurried toward my bedroom. God, she’d probably follow me up, spitting vim and vitriol once the shock wore off.
“He what?” she called, just as I reached my bedroom. “Why would he be waiting for you?”
I entered the room and closed the door behind me, then leaned against it, chest rising and falling too fast.
Why did she get to me this much? For the longest time, all I had was this bedroom with its teal wall paper and faded carpet. I’d long since stripped the posters from its wall, in the vain hope that it’d mature me enough to find an apartment anywhere but Meek Springs.
The only images were of Paula and myself, on the wall above my desk. Happy snaps from nights out at the restaurant, none of them with men, since I’d never been interested or met one who turned my soul to mush like Ryan did.
“Chanel Scott, why is that man waiting for you?” Her footsteps stomped on the stairs.
I pushed off from my door and went to my armoire instead. I opened the creaky doors, it was an antique from my grandmother, and grabbed my overnight bag from its spot atop my shoes.
“Chanel!” My mother opened the door without knocking.
I placed the bag on my bed, then retrieved an armful of clothes from the cupboard.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m packing a bag. There’s too much work to be done on the base. I have to stay over there for a while until I can put together a presentation on the project.” Formal tone. Clipped off sentences.
“Have you lost your mind?”
I shoveled the clothes into the bag, then picked up a few pairs of shoes. “No.”
“You were gone all day. Do you have any idea how much business we lost today because of this?”
“Business.” I snorted. “We didn’t lose any business. It’s a Sunday.”
“Oh yeah? I received a call from the Pachinko family today. They wanted us to review their home,” she replied. “It’s a huge project.”
“Mom, unless the Pachinkos have a house the size of a military base, I’m not interested,” I replied.
“You’re not the owner of this company, Chanel. I can fire you.”
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