by Amy Brent
“Only when it's true,” he said, turning towards me. He reached out and caressed my cheek. I nuzzled against his palm and sighed. He had a gentle touch, and it made me feel warm.
He ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek, then slid his fingers back into my hair. “You're very soft,” he whispered. He stepped closer, pressing his body against mine and leaning in to whisper in my ear. “And warm.”
I sighed softly, letting myself melt against him. His fingers felt amazing, and I found myself wanting him to touch me in other places as well.
“I bet you're the kind of woman who takes what she wants,” he whispered, tracing his fingers along the curve of my neck. “And doesn't hesitate.”
“You're right,” I said. I took his face in my hands and pulled him close, tasting his lips. He slipped his arms around me, caressing my curves as we kissed. His touch sent shivers throughout my body. I moaned against his mouth as his hands roamed lower, squeezing my ass. I felt his excitement as he pressed himself against me, and his arousal was contagious. I slipped my hand down and reached for his crotch, giving it a gentle squeeze.
He gasped and shivered. “You really do take what you want,” he said.
“I'm definitely ready to take it.”
He kissed me again, then took my hand. He led me down the path until we found a trail that led down to a small stretch of beach, framed by cliffs. It was dark and private, and when we laid down on the sand together, it was like there was no one else in the world.
We laid together on the sand, taking our time, exploring each other's bodies. Rick's hands moved slowly, caressing my ass, my hips, my breasts. I kicked off my shoes and let my toes curl in the sand as his touch sent tingles through my body. He unbuttoned my blouse and started planting soft kisses along my breasts. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his face closer, moaning in pleasure.
When I couldn't wait any longer, I pulled him on top of me and started unbuttoning his pants. I slipped my hand inside and found what I was looking for, stroking it firmly. He moaned and leaned over me, using his knees to push my legs open. I spread my legs eagerly and pulled him closer, guiding his movements until he was inside of me.
We made love in the sand, under the stars, until my body ached with such pleasure that I couldn't contain it any longer. I clung to Rick as he thrust into me, my nails digging into his sides. I didn't try to hold back my screams of ecstasy. I let them out, crying my pleasure into the night, knowing that there was no one else but Rick to hear the sounds of my climax.
Afterwards, we lay there holding each other. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of Rick's breathing. Each shift of my body sent grains of sand sliding off my sweaty skin. I reached up and traced a finger along Rick's lips.
“That was something else,” he said.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Mmm, a very good thing.”
He kissed me softly, gently, then laid his head against my chest. I held him for a long time, until the chill of the night air started to cool the sweat that coated my skin. We got up and brushed as much of the sand off of us as we could, then we got dressed. We walked back to the car hand in hand and Rick drove me home.
“Boy, I need a shower,” I said as we pulled up to my place. “I'm sweaty and I've got sand in...places.”
Rick smirked at me and caressed my cheek. “You want some company in that shower?”
I eyed him sidelong and grinned. “You sure you don't need to be back at the base, soldier boy?”
“I've got a forty-eight hour pass,” he said. “I can stay out as long as I like.”
“Well, in that case, I could use someone to scrub my back.”
We had as much fun in the shower as we'd had on the beach. Rick pinned me against the wall and soaped me up, then rubbed me down, taking his time to caress every curve. By the time we finished, I was pleasantly exhausted. We collapsed into my bed together and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.
Just before I drifted off to sleep, I whispered into the darkness, “Rick?”
“Yes, babe?”
“Is this something serious for you? I mean, not just a good time?”
“Everything I do is serious to me,” he said. He kissed my neck and squeezed me tight.
I sighed in contentment, then closed my eyes and went to sleep.
Rick became a regular part of my life over the next few weeks. He came down to the bar when he had time off, keeping me company when it was slow, and lending a hand when it was busy. I let him work behind the bar and found that he wasn't half bad at mixing drinks. It was nice to have him there, and it made my nights much more pleasant.
Sometimes we slipped back into my office and made love on the desk. Other nights, we went back to my place and he spent the night. He never took me back to the base, which was just fine. I didn't want to be around all of those other military types. Only Rick.
One night, weeks later, we were having a quiet, candlelit dinner at my place. Rick had insisted on cooking, saying that he had some news to share with me, and he wanted to set the right mood. I sat and waited while he cooked, my nerves all riled up. I had some news of my own, and I wasn't sure how he was going to react to it.
As he was serving the meal, I wrung my hands under the table. “Are you going to tell me what your big news is?” I asked.
He finished setting out both of our plates and sat down. “I was hoping we could enjoy a nice dinner first.”
“I'd really rather hear what it is,” I said. I didn't even touch my food. “I...I have something to tell you myself. And it's pretty important.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“You go first.” I kept my eyes lowered, too nervous to look at him. I picked up my fork and pushed the food around on my plate, but my stomach was tied in knots, and I couldn't bring myself to take a bite.
“Well,” he said, unfolding a napkin and setting it in his lap. “I have a decision to make. And I was hoping that you would be part of it.”
“Decision?” I asked, frowning. “What are you talking about?” The knots in my stomach just got even tighter.
“At the end of the month, they're going to be transferring me,” he said. I looked up at him and he met my eyes. “Overseas.”
“Oh God.” I felt faint and swayed in my chair. I took a sip of water, suddenly feeling parched. “You...you're leaving me?”
“No, no!” He got up and moved around the table to kneel by my side. He took both of my hands in his. “That's what I want to talk to you about. See, I've never had any reason to stay in one place before. I always just went where they needed me.”
“But?”
“But,” he said, “now I've got a reason.” He squeezed my hands.
I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. The last thing I needed right now was to find out he was moving to another country, even if it was only temporarily. He could be gone for a year or more, and that would ruin everything.
“What are you saying?” I asked, once I was calm enough to speak. “Are you leaving, or not?”
“That's what I want to talk to you about,” he said. “I have an option. I can resign my commission, and then I won't have to go.”
I held my breath for a moment while I sorted through that thought. “So is that what you're doing, or...?”
“That depends a lot on you,” he said. “I feel like things have been going really well between us. And I'd like our relationship to grow into something more. But I need to know if you're in the same place I am. That you want the same things I do.”
“And what is it that you want?”
He reached up and cupped a hand against my cheek. “I want you.”
I leaned my face against his hand and closed my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“And if I ask you to stay...?”
“Then I'll stay,” he said. “As long as I know what we have is something serious. I'm not asking you for marriage or something. Not yet a
t least. But I need to know this is a real commitment.”
I opened my eyes and looked down at him. My heart raced in my chest. “Before you decide,” I said, “I think I should share my news with you.”
“Of course,” he said. He got up and sat in his chair, scooting it closer to me. He took my hands in his and squeezed them. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to find the right way to share my news. In the end, I decided there was only one way to do it. I had to be direct.
“I'm pregnant.”
He froze in place, staring at me. His hands went limp in mine. My mind raced, imagining the worst possibilities. That he'd take the job overseas after all. That he'd leave me to raise this baby alone. Sure, he'd pay child support, and he was wealthy enough that the baby would be well-provided for. But that wasn't the same as having a father. A real family.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes.” I sighed and lowered my head. I braced myself for what was coming.
Then he laughed.
I looked up at him and saw that he had a huge, goofy grin on his face. “Really? I'm...I'm going to be a father?”
He laughed again, but it was a laugh of joy. He grabbed my face and kissed me. Tears of relief slid down my cheeks.
He pulled back and brushed a thumb across my cheek, wiping away my tears. “What's wrong?”
I shook my head. “I thought you would leave me.”
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “Now I've got even more reason to stay. I'll put in my resignation tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I'm sure,” he said. “I was ready to stay when it was just for you. Now, I've got even more reason to stay. We can do this. It'll be great.”
I let out a shuddering breath of relief and leaned against him, putting my arms around him. He held me close and stroked my hair. My fears started to fade away. There was still a lot to worry about. I'd never had a baby before, and I wasn't sure if I was ready. But at least now I knew I wouldn't be doing it alone.
I took Rick's hands and stood up, then led him to the bedroom.
“What about dinner?” he asked with a mischievous grin.
“It can wait,” I said. I pulled him onto the bed and pushed him over onto his back. I pulled down my panties, pulled up my skirt, and straddled him, leaning down over him to kiss his sweet lips. He reached up and massaged my breasts, then slid his hands lower and grabbed my hips. He pulled me against him and started grinding up against me before I even had his pants off. I could feel him through his pants, and I ached in that moment to have him inside of me.
I pulled his pants down and lowered myself onto him. He moaned in pleasure and thrust up into me, holding my hips as I moved in time with his motions. I ached for this man, needed him, craved him. And now I knew he would really be mine.
In all of the excitement, it didn't take long for Rick's eager thrusting to bring him to climax. I coaxed him onward, stroking his face and whispering sweet nothings to him. I let him fill me, giving me what I craved, what I needed. Then I collapsed atop him and planted little kisses all over his face and lips.
When it was done, we laid there in bed, holding each other. I knew there were a lot of details to work out. I'd have to talk to Rick about whether he wanted to move into my place, or if we'd be getting someplace new together. I could offer him a full-time job at the bar. Not that he needed the money, but it would give him something to do now that he wouldn't be in the service any longer. And we had to make plans for the baby, getting ready to be a family.
But all of that could wait for another day. For tonight, I laid there, holding my man in my arms, at peace with the world. And I couldn't have asked for anything more.
Pregnant By The Seal
I met Jack at an airport in Northern Syria, the day before our expedition was due to head out. It was a sweltering day, high 90's, and the tiny airport didn't have any air conditioning. I stood there fanning myself with a folded map of the surrounding area, wishing we had scheduled this trip during the winter months instead of during one of the hottest weeks of the year. Timing was important, however. The Islamic State militants had been causing all kinds of trouble throughout the region for months now, and this was one of the only times things had settled down for it to be safe for us to get into the country. Though there was still high risk of terrorist attacks in the area, which is why Jack was here.
He got off the plane, a small private jet provided by our benefactor, Tremaine Industries, and headed straight towards me with a purposeful stride. He had a lot of swagger for a white boy, stalking across the tarmac with his jacket slung over his shoulder, a fine pair of Costa Del Mar shades covering his eyes. He had dark hair and a square jaw covered with a few days' stubble, and he moved like someone who knew how to handle himself, scanning the area as he walked for any possible threats. His resume listed him as a formal Navy SEAL, so I figured he knew his business. Why he was working private security now, I didn't know, but I was glad to have him along.
“Ms. Harris?” he asked, offering me his hand. “Jack Carmichael.”
“My pleasure, Jack,” I said, giving his hand a quick shake. “And it's Camille. We're gonna be working together, might as well be on a first name basis.”
“Works for me,” he said. He had a roguish smile, almost cocky. Though I liked a little confidence in a man. “I assume you have a car waiting?”
“Right this way.” I led him through the airport to where our rental car, also courtesy of Tremaine Industries, waited in the parking lot. There were only half a dozen other vehicles there. We'd chosen an isolated airstrip to reduce the chances of running into any trouble. Not that our job here was all that dangerous. But terrorists had blown up a few temples and other historic sites over the past few months, all as part of their religious war. They considered statues and graven images to be idolatry, and they hated with a passion anything that went against their extreme view of Islam. My group had been sent here to retrieve as many historic and religious artifacts as we could, in order to save them from destruction and relocate them to museums in less disputed territories.
I walked over to the driver's side door and opened it, but Jack thrust himself in front of me and blocked the door. “I should drive,” he said. “Just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. He seemed awfully paranoid for a white boy, but I guessed that he was right. “Fine,” I said, circling around to the passenger side of the car. It was a large, all-terrain SUV, ideal for our job here since we'd be venturing off the beaten path to get to some of the excavation sites. I was just glad that the car we'd been given was roomy enough. I was a big girl, after all, and it was no fun squeezing into a tiny compact car in a hot, sweaty day.
I eyed Jack as he drove us to the hotel, not even trying to hide the way I was checking him out. My mama always said a girl should never have shame in admiring a man, no matter what anybody had to say about it. This man was built, with firm muscles straining against his tight black t-shirt. The navy didn't take scrawny boys or scrubs and turn them into SEALs. For them it was only the finest of the finest. And believe me when I say he was fine.
A smirk crossed his lips when he caught me looking. “Like what you see?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm,” I replied, pursing my lips. “You got it going on.”
He laughed, and some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to release. “I hope we can have a good working relationship, Ms. Harris...Camille. I take my work very seriously. I wouldn't want to see any harm come to you or your team.”
“You really think there's any danger?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye, studying his reaction. If he tried to coddle me just to ease my worries, I planned to catch him in the act. “There hasn't been any activity in this area for a while now, at least according to the reports Tremaine gave us.”
He shrugged, keeping his attention on the road and watching the other cars we passed, alert for any possible trouble. “I'm cauti
onary by nature, Camille. I'd rather be over-protective if it helps reduce the risk to all of us. Americans in this part of the world aren't treated well when they cross the wrong sorts of people.”
A shiver went through my spine at that. I'd seen the news reports. There had been people out here who'd been captured, tortured, even beheaded. The artifacts we were here to retrieve weren't really all that valuable, beyond their historic significance. It sure as hell wasn't anything worth dying for. And I had never had any silly ideas about being some sort of Indiana Jones, and not just because being a large black woman, I wasn't exactly much like Harrison Ford.
“Let's just get the job done,” I said, “and get home. I ain't planning on winding up on the news.”
Jack patted my knee. His touch was firm and sure of himself. “I like a woman who keeps an eye on her goals,” he said, winking at me. “I can see why you were chosen to lead this expedition. There are plenty of other archaeologists with your credentials, but a task like this takes someone with some moxie.”
“Mr. Tremaine chose me because I'm the best woman for the job,” I said. Not that I'd ever met the mysterious billionaire. He had funded several expeditions I'd been on, going back all the way to my college internships. I'd worked hard to make a name for myself in the field, working under several prominent archaeologists on digs all around the world. This was my first time leading my own expedition, and I had Mr. Tremaine to thank for it. Though all I knew about him was what the news said: that he had a strong interest in preserving historical artifacts, and that he spend a generous portion of his vast fortune trying to save priceless artifacts from destruction. Though those stories were mixed up with news of Tremaine industries performing hostile takeovers and laying off workers by the thousands, so sometimes I wasn't sure what to think. I never knew for sure how secure my job was, so I made sure to be the best that I could, so that I'd be an invaluable resource.
I doubted that I'd ever meet Tremaine himself, but as long as he kept signing the checks and funding our supplies and travel expenses, that was just fine by me.
