by Naomi Niles
He saw me looking at his cock, met my eyes, and reached down to stroke it. He moved his thumb over the head, down the shaft, all the while watching my eyes as they grew wider, my mouth salivating. “You want this?” He grabbed it with one hand and used the other to pinch my clit.
I nodded my head.
“Are you going to cum?” He shoved his fingers deep inside me, hitting my g-spot. I gasped, struggling to keep from exploding, but I could only hold it so long. He was driving his finger through me, in and out, smiling as I threw back my head.
“Fuck me,” I said in a soft whisper.
“What’s that?” He cupped his hand over his ear and pinched my clit hard.
I gasped. “Fuck me,” I cried a little louder.
His finger was deep inside me, massaging my g-spot. “Oh, you want me to fuck you.” He reached forward and pinched my nipple. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to do anything you don’t want me to do.”
I was red with anger, pulsing with desire and dying for more. I’d never been so infuriated in my entire life. “Just do it.”
He reared up and threw his shirt on the ground, revealing a map of scars and tattoos, so intricate that I could’ve spent years going over them, asking about their meaning. My eyes moved down his massive shoulders, over his toned arms, his ridged stomach, to the tuft of black hair sticking out of his jeans. His laugh rolled out. “You want to see it?”
“I want it.” I sat up and lunged forward, but he held me back and wagged his finger.
“Uh-uh.” He stood up and walked around me so he could lift my legs and rest them on his shoulders. He thrust his hips forward, letting his bulge move over my leg, closer and closer. Then he leaned forward to kiss me as he pulled his pants down.
As far as I was concerned, the only things that existed at that moment was his cock standing straight up, pointed at me and his lips, like a brush painting new sensations, things I never thought possible. Then, all of a sudden, he slammed his dick deep inside me.
I threw my head back and cried out, riding a wave of motion and force, so captivating that I’d completely lost control. He was too powerful, too big, and he knew how to move and press up into that spot. I was a spectator watching a stream of bliss flow throughout my body as the pressure inside me mounted.
He was relentless. There was nothing gentle about what he was doing. It was pure momentum — raw, animal energy. His teeth bared, he rose up, his body towering over mine, taking control as his hips thrust back and forth in time with his grunting.
Sweat was pouring down his forehead, his breath racing. I could barely keep up, he was moving so fast. One thrust melded into another as the pressure surged through me. Something snapped. A dam broke, and a wave of bliss spread throughout my entire body, sending my head back, my mouth open.
“Awww,” I cried out. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t talk. I was stuck in it. Finally, he collapsed by my side and pulled me closer, resting my head against his chest. I could die there happily, but logic was rushing in.
I started to question myself and what I was doing. Was I living out some childhood fantasy? Was I really ready to rush into this? Once he got control, I wouldn’t have a choice. He had me, and there’d be nothing I could do to stop him. I wasn’t ready for that. I was still trying to build a career for myself. I didn’t need this kind of distraction.
I sat up, feeling like a complete bitch, and looked back. “I’m sorry. I should go. I have to work in the morning.”
“Are you sure?” He wanted me to stay. Most men would’ve kicked me out the door by now.
“Yeah, I’ll call you though.” I grabbed my clothes and started getting dressed. He didn’t say anything. He just watched me, clearly disappointed, as I walked out. I hated myself for doing that to him, but I couldn’t let myself get caught up in anything that might get me hurt.
That’s what it came down to — it wasn’t just about the distraction. I was worried that I’d get in too deep, and that when it didn’t work out, I’d get my heart broken.
Chapter Thirteen
Dwayne
My bed was perfect; my clothes were ironed and spotless. On the surface I looked great, but inwardly, I was shrieking. The entire drive to the office, I kept thinking about the way that Gillian walked out right after we finished having sex.
It was obvious she regretted being with me, and that didn’t sit right. We both liked each other. We both wanted to be with one another, and she kept ruining it. Why would she do that? Is she afraid of getting involved with somebody? Is there something about me that unsettled her? I couldn’t help but think that it was my fault.
Something had taken a hold of me that night. I don’t know if it was desire or sexual frustration, but I couldn’t help myself. I threw off my usually quiet demeanor and transformed into a beast. I’d never seen that side of myself before. It was exciting and dangerous, a thrill I’d never expected. Maybe Gillian couldn’t handle the intensity.
Fred was waiting for me behind the receptionist’s desk when I got there. His face was bright red, and he had a water bottle sitting next to him. Clearly, he’d been drinking. “How’s it going? You ready for your first day?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Good.” He reached into his pocket to pull out a ring of keys. “These are for the back and front entrances. When you leave for the day, lock up and make sure that nobody is inside the building. We can’t have the alarm going off because somebody got locked in.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good; if you have any questions, you know my number. I’ll be around here for a while if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” I took the keys and walked back to the office with my coffee. I didn’t like the idea of sitting in a chair all day and doing nothing. I kept thinking back to the desert, the action, the blood and sand…those poor women.
I didn’t have any room to complain. Most people would kill for a job where they could sit around and do nothing, but that was civilian life. It was all about avoidance, not duty. They wouldn’t take something like this seriously. They’d have done the bare minimum. That’s why I was given the job. Jacobs knew that she could trust me to stay vigilant and get the job done. I couldn’t let my CO down after she stuck her neck out for me.
I felt like a Peeping Tom, watching people pacing around their offices and pouring themselves coffee in the break room. I couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but I could see everything they were doing. I decided to make it a game. I imagined the people in the break room were going over their nights at the bar. When they spoke, I imagined what they might be saying.
One guy nudged another. I imagined he was asking his friend if he’d hit that last night. The other guy stared down at his coffee as if he were ashamed of striking out. A group of women were walking down the hall towards one of the conference rooms. One would turn to the other, and I’d imagine that she was talking about the nasty guy that tried to hit on her at the bar. I gave a story to every character and followed them through until lunchtime when my phone started ringing.
“Hello?” It was Michael.
“Hey, man. What you been up to?”
“Working. It’s my first day. They have me watching the cameras for twelve hours.”
“That’s got to be hell on you. I’ll bet you’re ready to run out.”
“I’ll admit I didn’t like it at first, but it’s easy and they’re paying me well, so I don’t mind.”
“I was thinking of heading out there this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up, maybe get a drink.”
“Sounds like fun. I don’t have any other plans, so I don’t see why not.”
“I’ll give you a call later on then.”
I went back to the cameras. The man who didn’t get laid was talking to one of the women in the break room. She was nodding her head, listening to what he was saying. My phone started vibrating again. It was a text from Gillian.
“Saturday?” it said.
“Of course,” I texted back.
Chapter Fourteen
Gillian
The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. I spent my time trying to stay as busy as I could, but in the quiet hours, when work was over and there was nothing to do but sit and stare at the TV, I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not I was doing the right thing.
Lexie was right. I could get too attached. Things might not go the way I wanted them to, and if they didn’t, I’d be left hanging, thinking about what could’ve been. I stayed close to my phone as best as I could. I couldn’t keep it on me during class, but I did check it every time I got a chance.
The second the girls started dispersing, I’d run over, pull it out of my duffel bag, and turn the screen on. It didn’t take me long to realize something was wrong. Saturday morning, I woke up anxious and worried. I was starting to think that Dwayne didn’t want to talk to me. I got dressed and walked into the kitchen. There were three bowls and a pan sitting in the sink. I picked up the sponge and started scrubbing the pan, taking my time, trying to get every crevice. I had to stay busy.
I moved onto the bowls and took as long as I could, trying to keep myself distracted. I couldn’t think about him. I had to focus on the cleaning. I finished the dishes, filled up a mop bucket, and began mopping the kitchen. The floor was already perfect. The water came out clear, but I kept going, mopping underneath the cabinets, then behind the refrigerator and the stove. It didn’t take me long. By the time I was done, it was barely ten in the morning and there was nothing left to clean.
I collapsed on the couch and grabbed my laptop so I could find something to watch. I told myself it would be easy. I’d find a movie and get into it. Then I’d forget about the fact that Dwayne hadn’t called me. I settled on a romantic comedy and made some popcorn.
I couldn’t get past the credits. I kept checking down at my phone. I was going to have to call him, but I didn’t want to seem desperate. He stayed away for a reason. Still, if I didn’t call him and find out what was going on, I was going to lose it.
I dialed his number. “Hey, Gillian.”
“I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“No, I just finished working out. I’m sorry I haven’t called you.”
“Did something happen?”
“It’s your brother. He called me right before you texted to tell me that he was going to be in town.”
“That’s not so bad. Maybe we can do something together.”
“But he doesn’t want me seeing you.”
“I think we can work it. I’ll call him and pretend not to know that he’s in town. Then we’ll act like it’s the first time we’ve seen each other since the party. We’ll make it casual and act like there’s nothing between us.”
He paused for a moment, presumably to think about what I’d said. “That might work. How about we have dinner tonight, the three of us? I got my house fixed up and was thinking of cooking.”
“You cook?”
“I try. I’m not a gourmet chef, but I know some neat tricks.”
“You’ll have to show me.”
“I will. How does scampi sound?”
“Amazing.” I was starving.
“Good, call your brother and make him think it was his idea.”
“I will.”
I hung up and called Michael. “Hey, sis.”
“Hey, Michael. How are you?”
“I’m alright. I thought I’d drive up to town this weekend. What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Are you going to go see Dwayne?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. I just thought since he was in town. We should get together, the three of us tonight.”
“Maybe. I’ll have to talk to him.”
“Let me know. I am bored out of my mind here.”
“I’ll call you back.”
I rushed into my room to find my outfit. I wouldn’t be seeing Dwayne until later on that night, but I couldn’t contain myself. It had to be casual, but sexy. I spent hours trying on pants, looking at them in the mirror, matching them with shirts.
Nothing I tried on worked, my standards were too high. I grabbed my credit card and drove down to the department store. I felt guilty spending the money, but it was worth it. I wound up buying a pair of tight leggings, black pumps, and a bright red tunic top.
By the time I got to Dwayne’s house, I was so frazzled I couldn’t think straight. I looked good, but I was worried. I couldn’t let on that Dwayne and I were dating — if that’s what we were even doing. Michael would lose his mind.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Dwayne answered, stepped outside, and closed the door. “I can’t wait to rip that off you.” He dove in to kiss me.
I pulled away. “Come on. We can’t let him see.”
He followed me inside. The bare living room had been transformed into a minimalist paradise with a white sectional and a matching ottoman in the center of the room. The only decoration was a clock in the shape of a black sun hanging behind the couch where Michael was sitting.
“Hey, sis. What do you think?” He looked around the room.
“It looks wonderful. When did you move in?” I asked Dwayne.
“Last week.” I followed him into the kitchen. There was a bottle of white wine sitting next to the stove and a bowl of shelled shrimp along with a bowl of angel hair pasta. “I was just about to finish the scampi.”
“It looks wonderful.”
“You want a beer?” Michael ducked down and reached into the fridge.
“Sure,” I took one from him. “How are you liking it in Chattanooga?” I asked Dwayne.
He added some olive oil into a pan, then a pinch of garlic and turned on the heat. “I like it. It’s different living in a big city.”
“I couldn’t do it,” Michael said. “Too many people, too crowded. I need peace and quiet.”
“I felt the same way when I first moved here,” I said, “but now I couldn’t imagine living out in the boonies. There’s nothing to do, and you have to drive all the way here to go shopping for anything but food.”
“There’s a lot outside the city, too,” Dwayne said. “I’ve been dying to see the waterfalls.”
I took a drink of my beer. “It’s so beautiful out there. I haven’t been in years.”
“Maybe we could go sometime.” Dwayne added the shrimp to the pan. Michael glared at him and pounded his beer.
Dwayne let the shrimp cook, then added the white wine, salt, and red chili flakes. He picked up the pan and threw the shrimp in the air. I gasped, and he looked back with a grin. “You really know how to cook,” I said.
“Wait till you try it.”
Michael was sitting at the dining room table watching our exchange. “I’m starving, man.”
Dwayne carefully pulled the noodles out of the pan with a pair of tongs and carefully set them on plate with a healthy helping of shrimp. “There you are.”
“That looks so good.”
Michael was staring at Dwayne while Dwayne made him a plate. “Don’t get any ideas,” he whispered to me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered back.
Dwayne brought Michael his plate and sat down. He watched me twirl the noodles around my fork and take a bite. “How is it?”
The wine, lemon, and salt mixed together, creating the perfect tangy flavor. It made my tongue tingle. “It’s divine.”
He smiled. “Yeah?”
I nodded excitedly.
“You guys want to get a drink after this?” Michael asked.
“Sounds good to me.” Dwayne took a bite of shrimp.
“Where should we go?” I asked.
“There’s a club downtown I’ve been thinking of checking out,” Michael said. “You won’t even h
ave to change.” He looked at me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” He downed his beer and turned back to his plate.
Dwayne met my eyes, a look of concern on his face. I shrugged. Michael was going to have to get past it if Dwayne and I were going to keep seeing one another.
Chapter Fifteen
Dwayne
When I was out on leave, I couldn’t go to the bars. Alcohol was illegal in Afghanistan, and I rarely got a chance to get out when I was in the States, so I didn’t know what to expect when we got downtown and started wading through the bar crowd to get into the club.
It was dark, save for red and blue lights that spun around the dance floor in time with the pop beat. I was out of place, stuck in a world of shallow drugs and debauchery, surrounded mostly by twenty-somethings looking to get high and find somebody to go home with.
Michael led me straight to the bar so we could get some drinks while Gillian found a table. “Man, look at all these chicks, ugh.” Michael thrust his hips forward. “You’re going home with someone tonight. I can tell you that much.”
“Yeah?” I glanced around, hoping to see Gillian, but the crowd was too thick.
“Fuck yeah, man. Look at this place. All them hot little girls. I’m gonna dive in.”
The bartender came up. “What can I get you guys?”
“A sex on the beach and two Red Moons,” Michael said. “My sister always drinks the fruity shit. Take a shot with me.”
“Nah, I got to drive. I’ll probably just have the one, but go crazy. I’ll get you back.”
“Suit yourself.”
The bartender gave us our drinks, and we walked out back where Gillian was sitting, staring at the ground.
“Here you are.” Michael handed her a drink.
“Thanks,” she said as she took it and glanced up at me.
