Putting his ear against the door, he listened for movement. After a moment, her shoes tapped the floor and her dress swished, just beyond where he stood.
“Just a minute.” The way she said it—in a hazy, faraway voice—made him feel like she was up to something.
The latch clicked and the door opened a fraction of an inch. She stared at him through the crack. Then abruptly, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it.
Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she twisted the lock behind her back. She was either horny or crazy, and he was game for either one.
“I decided I do want another Hot French Kiss,” she whispered, emerald eyes on fire. “But not the kind you drink.”
Grant was so surprised he couldn’t react. He just stared at her, wondering if this was really happening. When uncertainty crept into her expression, he took a step forward and buried his hands in her dark auburn hair, crushing his lips to hers.
She stood on her toes and kissed him back, lacing her hot tongue around his. Damn, she could kiss. Her lips were soft and demanding. She was a woman who knew what she wanted.
When she put her small, delicate hands under the seam of his t-shirt, tracing the lines in his abs, he groaned into her mouth. He was so hard already. She was like a snake charmer, or a siren.
His hands trailed out of her hair and down the front of her body to her breasts. He’d wanted to touch them since the moment he saw her, and they didn’t disappoint. He broke their kiss long enough to pull her dress over her head.
Underneath, she wore only a lacy black thong. No bra. Holy fuck. She grabbed him by his shirt and yanked it over his head, then pulled him forward to kiss him again. When his bare skin touched hers, they both sighed. Like it was what they’d been waiting for all night, maybe even all their lives.
Pulling back, he looked down at her. Her breasts were full and heavy and one hundred percent real, he was certain. She had the sexiest tan lines. Two creamy white triangles framed her rosy nipples. He rolled them between his callused fingers, then bent his head forward to take one in his mouth.
The contrasting textures of smooth skin and taut nipple against his tongue made him so hard it hurt. She whimpered a throaty sound as he suckled. He’d love to hear her make that sound night after night. He moved on to the left one, lapping at it until it was as firm as the right.
He kissed a line down her flat stomach, stopping at the hem of her thong. He glanced up at her as he hooked his fingers in the elastic waistband. A blush exploded on her cheeks and neck. The faintest hint of shyness lingered under her hooded lids.
He pulled her last piece of clothing down her pin-up-curvy hips and legs, and looked at her most intimate parts.
“Damn, Mara,” he growled, staring at the neatly-trimmed strip of russet hair above her luscious mound. He wanted to kiss every inch of her.
Lacing his fingers around the swell of her ass, he lifted her onto the counter next to the sink and placed another scorching kiss on her mouth. She leaned back, propping herself up with her hands. He pushed her thighs apart and stooped down between them.
“Scoot to the edge,” he breathed the husky demand. She obliged with no argument or hesitation.
The loveliest hues of pink spiraled between her smooth, flawless folds. At the very top, a tight little bud jutted out, firm as a pebble. He’d seen plenty of pussy in his day. But this pussy was art—it had the same allure as a blooming flower. One he couldn’t wait to bury his face in. Breathe its aroma. Taste its dewy, edible petals.
He traced the length of it with two fingers, spreading the slippery moisture of her arousal as he went. She was dripping wet. A shudder rolled through her when he stumbled over her clit. Leaning in, he pressed his lips around it. Slowly, gently, he kissed it. When she arched her body forward, he pulled away and flashed her a mischievous grin.
She stared down at him, frazzled. Her bottom lip quivered. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m just trying to savor the moment,” he said. “Feel the emotions. It’s about more than getting off.” He winked, teasing.
The look on her face was priceless. Widened eyes, parted lips, short, panting breaths. He was having a wickedly good time.
Leaning forward again, he licked her from bottom to top in a slow, thorough stroke. She moaned when he circled her clit and went back down again. As he continued the onslaught with his tongue, her pussy just kept getting wetter. He lapped it up, like nectar from the gods. She tasted so fucking good.
When he slipped a finger inside her, she rocked her hips forward, begging for more. He put a second finger inside the tight, hot little hole and stretched her in a circular motion. Even as wet as she was, he wasn’t sure he’d fit without lube. She was tiny, and he was not.
Then it dawned on him.
He didn’t have any condoms. Crushing disappointment settled into his shoulders, but he didn’t want to spoil the moment for her. He leaned in and drew the tight bundle of nerves between his front teeth—using just enough pressure to get her attention, but not bring pain. Then he flicked it with his tongue in rapid motion as he worked his fingers in and out, dragging them against all the delicious ridges inside her.
Her orgasm was almost immediate. Her pussy gripped his fingers like a warm wet fist as the contractions began. She exploded into a series of twitches and moans, cream pouring onto his tongue as her hands slid off the counter like she couldn’t hold herself up anymore.
He had to find a way to get condoms on this plane.
****
A light, blissful buzz surrounded her as she came down from her soaring high. Her breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath. She’d felt shy to be naked in front of him at first, worried he would notice the slight pooch on her lower belly, or that her breasts weren’t as perky as the women his age. But he looked her body over, taking in every detail. As she stared at him through lazy, fluttery lids, she realized he was putting his shirt back on.
What? They’d just started getting to the good part. She’d never been able to come like that with anybody, and certainly not so quickly. She was going to need more. Much, much more. Fuck their age difference. He was amazing.
“Hey,” she said, grabbing his shirt from him and tossing it on the ground. “What are you doing? We aren’t done.” She pulled him to her and kissed him, tasting herself on his mouth. It somehow only turned her on and made her ready to go again. The scruff of his five o’clock shadow rubbed against her face with the same divine friction he’d rubbed against her pussy. Suddenly the only item on her bucket list that mattered was fucking this soldier.
Fumbling with his pants, she unbuttoned and unzipped them and dropped them around his ankles. Hopping off the counter, she stooped and pulled his white boxer briefs down his muscular legs, freeing his heavy erection.
She’d expected it to be big. She had felt it pressing into her, and she’d seen it tenting his pants. But in the flesh, it was a whole new experience. An anatomically perfect masterpiece, it had a symmetrical, round head with smooth skin and bulging veins. Moisture drizzled down her inner thigh. She ached to have it inside her.
Dark, neatly trimmed hair framed him. His balls were big and tight, gathered taut against his body. She dragged her fingernails lightly over the ridges of his sac, enjoying it as he shuddered under her hands.
She held his dark gaze as she kissed the head of his dick. It was a slow, open-mouthed kiss. Sticking out her tongue, she dabbed the bead of moisture seeping out of the tip. Following the grooves, she caressed the length of him with her mouth and hands. He was so hard, yet the peach flesh was so soft. He bucked his hips as she sucked at the tip.
She’d never be able to fit the whole thing in her mouth without puncturing a lung, but she could use her hands to help. She wanted to give him the kind of pleasure he’d just given her.
But before she could get started, he pulled her up to him. Callused fingertips gripped her upper arms tightly and he clenched his tee
th. “Do you have any condoms? Because I don’t.”
Shit. While she found it kind of endearing that he didn’t walk around with condoms, expecting to get laid, it was pretty fucking inconvenient. Because she didn’t have any, either. She shook her head, biting her tongue to keep from suggesting they do it without one. She may have been a little drunk, but she hadn’t devolved to that level of stupid yet.
A knock rapped lightly on the door. “Anyone in there?” A voice called from outside.
They glanced at the door and back at each other. “Just a minute,” Mara answered, voice cracking.
Grant sighed, releasing his grip on her arms. “Another time, then.”
Bending over, he pulled his underwear and pants up over his massive hard-on, harnessing it in his waistband, and grabbed his shirt off the floor.
Um. Another time? Was he serious? Surely someone on the plane had a condom. She wasn’t even opposed to asking the flight attendant to make a request over the intercom. Maybe that was the absinthe talking.
He turned his back to her. The moment was over. Someone was waiting to use the bathroom. For what bathrooms were actually used for.
The room swam around her as she reluctantly put on her dress. Instead of putting her thong back on, she reached over and it stuffed it inside his pants pocket with a grin. He smiled back at her, but it seemed pained before he turned away and put his hand on the doorknob. Sudden panic gripped her. Had she turned him off somehow? Done something wrong? Did her older body repulse him? Maybe the bliss of her orgasm had clouded her perception of how much fun he was actually having.
She forced herself to breathe. No use jumping to conclusions.
Maybe they could continue things once they returned to their seats. The lights were dim, after all. She desperately hoped that everyone else was asleep as they exited the bathroom together, to a long line of funny looks.
****
Would it be in bad taste to ask her to crawl under the blanket and suck him off? He wanted to fuck her so bad he could barely think straight. His dick had been hard for so long that he was entering the danger zone they mention in Cialis commercials. Good thing she was a doctor, even though she apparently didn’t want him to know that.
He kept hoping she’d take it upon herself to just do it without him asking. But so far, she hadn’t. Maybe she wasn’t into risky exhibition-style sex. The bathroom was one thing, but committing lewd acts with other passengers a few feet away might be too much for her.
She lounged under her blanket on the seat beside him, giving him coy glances. A smug satisfaction settled into his gut. He’d really put it on her, and he hadn’t even called upon his best moves yet. She was in for a treat the moment they got to play around in a real bedroom.
He really hoped that’d happen before his dick fell off.
He licked his lips, still tasting her sweet little pussy on his mouth. Closing his eyes, he relived every moment of their bathroom exchange while he planned the things he’d do to her once they got off the plane. He never thought he’d be ready for another relationship, but Mara was really something special. Sexy. Funny. Smart. He couldn’t see himself getting tired of touching her.
He didn’t want to be pushy, so he tried to relax. Hoping she’d make a move.
****
Asleep. He was seriously asleep. The absinthe was wearing off, and she was starting to get a headache.
It was foolish for her to think he could’ve been attracted to her. He could fuck anyone he wanted—women much younger than she was. He probably took one look at her shriveling body and decided the same thing her ex-husband did. He’d get better elsewhere.
Like a good little Boy Scout, he’d made sure she got off, though.
Mind-blowing orgasm or not, she was nobody’s charity case. Turning over and wrapping herself in the flimsy airline blanket, Mara closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. They’d be landing in eight hours and she was going to get off this plane faster than Grant could say poor, pitiful cougar.
****
When he woke up at 4 A.M., he was still hard. He had to go to the bathroom and jerk off.
Twice.
After that, he slept like a fucking baby. But when he woke up, the plane was on the ground and she was already gone.
Chapter Three
Mara grabbed a breath mint from her white coat pocket and popped it into her mouth. She chewed it as she headed down the hall to her next patient.
It had taken her about a week to learn her way around Landstuhl. Once she got her bearings in the community, she’d gained a mild sense of comfort. Work was busy from the word go. There was no down time or acclimation to the system, since it was the same system she was used to at Edwards. They’d thrown her right into the thick of things. It was good for her. It kept her from thinking too much.
But in the quiet moments at her empty new apartment, or between patients—like now—she thought of Grant.
She knew she could look him up in the MEDCOM patient system and find out where he lived. But she’d be violating all kinds of privacy laws if she did. Regardless of the shitty decisions she made for her personal life, she wouldn’t jeopardize her career.
She vacillated between regret and lustful reminiscence over what happened on the plane. Though she hated herself for it, she wanted to do it again. Too bad he didn’t want her back. If she weren’t so embarrassed, she’d venture out and try to find a sex toy shop. She was going to have to do something soon. Her fingers just weren’t cutting it after experiencing Grant’s big long fingers inside her.
Shaking off the thought, she grabbed a chart from outside a patient’s door. She skimmed the information. Another soldier physical. She’d been inundated with them from the first day. This one needed the exam for his promotion packet.
Mara studied the information as she walked into the exam room. Eye and hearing test were completed already—perfect scores on both. Urine test negative for protein or bacteria. Labs negative for abnormalities or disease. He just needed a check mark next to his physical exam.
Skimming up to his name, she said, “Mr. Taylor, I’m Dr. Ballew…”
And then she looked up at him.
Grant sat on her exam table in his boxer briefs, uniform folded neatly in the chair in the corner of the room. She froze in her tracks.
Her mouth hung open, in fly-catcher mode. She stared at him, though he didn’t look the least bit surprised.
“Well, doc. Looks like you switched careers since we met last week. Do you like this gig better than the travel writer thing? At least you don’t have to fly.”
Her mouth went Sahara-dry. Other parts did the opposite.
“You … you knew?” she croaked.
“Your MEDCOM badge was clipped to the side of your bag.” Grant’s eyes and dimples competed for most dramatic twinkling. He was amused by her lunacy. Not only was she a desperate cougar, she was also a liar.
God, what an idiot she’d been. She took a deep breath, mortified over the whole situation.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Grant’s dark brows creased on his forehead, like he didn’t understand why she’d be embarrassed. Typical. He probably didn’t even remember what happened between them. It couldn’t be a big deal to a guy like him. He was a perfect physical specimen—he’d probably had sex a dozen times with a dozen different women since then.
A pang of irrational jealousy jolted her at the thought.
Mara’s hand shook as she raised her stethoscope to his chest. Heat licked at her neck as she listened to his heartbeat, which pounded at a steady 110bpm. Much too fast for someone who appeared so outwardly calm.
“Why did you run off?” Grant whispered. “I wasn’t finished with you.”
Oh, no. He did not get to sit there and be sexy and mess with her head. She didn’t need this bullshit. If he’d really been attracted to her, he wouldn’t have stopped looking at her the moment she tried to suck his dick. And he definitely wo
uldn’t have fallen asleep, unsatisfied, and slept the rest of the flight.
“You were hibernating,” she snapped, pulling the stethoscope from her ears. “Your heart rate is too fast. You won’t pass your physical if I log it at the current rate. Take some deep breaths and I’ll retake it after we finish the rest of your exam.”
“Are you mad at me for falling asleep?” Grant narrowed his eyes. Like he couldn’t imagine why walking away unsatisfied—and uninterested in being satisfied—might give her some sort of complex.
Leaning in to his ear, she whispered. “I’m not mad at you. You’re 25 years old. I get it. You weren’t attracted to me. I’m used to it, okay? No hard feelings. Let’s just get through this exam and pretend we don’t know each other. Save ourselves some embarrassment.”
“Mara, I don’t think you do get it. And speaking of hard feelings—”
Mara dropped her clipboard on the exam table with a clatter and pulled her tape measure from her pocket. “Stand up, let’s get your tape measurements.”
She avoided his eyes, all business—or pretending to be. There was no time in her day for patronizing, despite the liquid heat pooling in her panties.
With a wicked grin, Grant stood up and towered over her.
Mara’s eyes trailed down his sculpted torso to his boxer briefs—which were stretched to the brink by a massive erection.
“I was just going to say speaking of hard feelings, Doc…” Grant laughed quietly. “Maybe you can tell me why I’ve been hard for a week. Every time I think about you, this happens.”
Mara’s breath caught in her throat. Her nipples pressed painfully against her bra.
Reaching for his waistband, Grant slid his boxer briefs down his legs. His erection flexed when the air touched it. He grabbed her hand and placed it over the bulging veins.
Mara couldn’t help it. Her pussy clenched when she touched his dick. She ached to have him inside her, even without absinthe. She wanted to know how it felt.
But she was pretty certain this whole thing was an act, to make her feel like less of an old hag. At 25, he could probably get hard if the breeze blew forcefully enough. She yanked her hand away like she’d touched a hot stove.
Uniform Fetish Page 27
