Desire Read online

  The silence expanded like a balloon and we stood there mute, in front of the refrigerator. We were lost staring dumbly into the depths of each other. Our eyeballs gouged deeper, seeking out reasons for this sudden change in our perception of each other. At least that’s how I thought of it, until realization slammed into me. I’d always felt this way about Riley. I’ve known her father close to a decade and Riley has been buried in my thoughts and unconscious dreams for a lot of those years.

  Inch by inch, like a tadpole moving through honey, our lips crept toward each other. Riley’s chest was moving so fast, she was close to panting for breath. Her amazing tits rose and fell and I longed to palm the round mounds and squeeze unrelentingly. Closer and I could feel her soft warm breath, slightly beery with a jasmine undertone from her perfume, fall on my upper lip.

  I couldn’t help it. One kiss wouldn’t hurt. Frank was outside and I know he’d never walk away from tending the fire. He wouldn’t burst in on the one breaking out in his kitchen.

  “Ethan,” Riley murmured, almost imperceptibly. “I want -”

  An aggressive noise sounded in my back pocket and I realized it was the special ring tone for Lisa, my ex. My kid’s mom. Shit. That jolted me out of every ounce of lust and I pulled back from the most gorgeous girl, to get the call.

  “Riley, the tongs,” Frank hollered from the back yard.

  With another sexy pout, Riley turned to retrieve the implement from the larder. I resigned myself to whatever the latest bullshit was that Lisa’s thought up to taunt me.

  Despite my best intentions, I watched Riley sashay from the kitchen to the garden, her hips swaying, her round ass absolutely stunning in the short shorts.

  “What is it, Lisa,” I groaned into the phone, hoping it would be quick and I could get back outside and at least keep Riley in my sights.

  “What it is, is that we’re sitting here on your doorstep,” she snarked. “I have to be on a flight in, like, an hour so you better get home or your son’s going to be all on his own in the dark.”

  3

  Rylie

  Waiting interminably for my father to finish up with Ethan, my mind is still wandering. Seems I can’t keep it focused on anything but the Major. I wonder what color his close crop would be if he were allowed to grow it out. Maybe black with some salt and pepper? But his eyes are so blue, maybe it would be dusky blond like Brad Pitt.

  Ethan is younger than my dad but still nearly forty. Last night they were talking about his upcoming birthday.

  “I’m going to be over-the-hill and stuck being single,” he’d joked.

  I wanted to shout to him that I’d sign up to make sure that didn’t happen, but they didn’t realize I was eavesdropping. My father would have made me do 50 pushups and run 5 miles for punishment.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a good woman,” daddy said. “You’re a JAG officer and a USC graduate. What more could any woman desire?”

  Nothing.

  Not a fucking thing.

  Then the man god emerges from dad’s office and with the door open, my father looking out sternly but not unkind. I know he’s desperate to recruit me. Ethan barely glances in my direction as he left. Why is he being so ice cold to me today all of a sudden? What if it’s because after he took off to meet Lisa and never came back for dinner, perhaps they hooked up again. Sharing a kid has to be a major glue.

  “Come in, Riley,” Dad says wearily. Perhaps he won’t push too hard now Ethan’s tired him out. Christ, I wish that man would exhaust me too, but solely with those rock hard muscles, no army business.

  “So how long was he married?” I ask casually as I sink into the chair. Still warm from Ethan’s….no, do not think of that tight round ass you just watched like a she-wolf as he exited the office without a word. Not in here. My father’s eyes narrow. Is he suspicious at my interest in his friend?

  “About three and a half minutes,” he says. “No one could stay married to that flaky bitch. Now can we get back to the issue of your recruitment and stop gossiping about my pals?”

  It’s another hour before I leave my father’s office. Our convos are always interrupted multiple times by personnel needing his sign-off. This time was worse than usual. Perhaps there’s a crisis in the White House.

  Maybe the President is planning a golf trip to the islands? I rarely get to find out what my dad is taking care of. And he’s always distracted in his dealings with me when he’s in the office. I don’t want to whine but sometimes I feel like second place behind his important duties.

  I stride out past the pimply private, ignoring his attempt at hiding a leer. It’s not like I want guys to stare at my tits, but it feels weird when they don’t even notice me at all. Then, without realizing I’m doing it, I scan the hallway for Ethan.

  He’s nowhere in sight.

  I shake off the disappointment, reminding myself that ogling him will only lead to frustration.

  Once in my father’s car I turn the A/C on full blast. I’m so grateful that he allows use of the caddy, which I call the boat, it’s so huge. He also always ensures the gas tank’s full too, which I really appreciate. I’m pulling out of the lot when an MP squad car pulls up behind me. The military cop has me blocked in and nervousness prickles up my spine even though I haven’t done anything wrong, so far as I can recall. Nope – always the good girl. Unless my father knows about last night and plans to ship me somewhere out of Ethan’s reach. When I turn back to the window after reaching into my purse for ID, my heart turns over a triple somersault.

  “Oh,” I gasp. “Ethan.” That comes out in a breathless little whisper as I fight to inhale the suddenly even more humid air.

  He’s just as surprised, judging by the jolt across his gorgeous features. He must have been expecting my father when he rapped on the glass.

  “I assumed you were—”

  “My dad,” I say. “I get that a lot.” Suddenly my cheeks blush hot which creates a ripple effect of embarrassing me even more, so I have to say something, anything. “Why are you in a cop car?”

  “I got into an accident last night,” he says.

  “Oh my God!” I squeal just a little too much like a high school cheerleader. “Are you okay?”

  His features morph into a pensive frown. “Yeah, I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. My car, Not so much…”

  Ethan’s no longer the unimpressionable solid rock he was a while ago in my father’s office. He seems slightly frazzled and on edge.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” he says, looking down at me. I realize his hand is still covering mine, resting on the window frame, from when he went to take my ID then didn’t. Little quivers of warmth slide into my core as he admits, “I was thinking, actually. About what happened, about the…Sorry, forget it. I shouldn’t be burdening you with my problems.”

  “That’s okay, burden away if it makes you feel better.”

  Shit, that sounded dumb but I guess Ethan doesn’t think so. He’s staring at me that way again. Like he’s ready to devour a chunk of searing flesh and it isn’t one sliced from a cow.

  A shout interrupts him before I get to hear what it is he needs to feel better. My dad comes striding across the lot and throws us a weird look for hanging out.

  “Why aren’t you on the way to pick up the - package?” he demands, recalling I’m sitting there and not on a need-to-know clearance.

  “I didn’t think,” I begin.

  “Not you, him,” my father barks. “And Rylie why are you in the car? Ethan has requisitioned the boat.”

  “Sir,” Ethan speaks up, “I neglected to inform Rylie of my urgent need. I’m certain she’d have done something about it had she been made aware.”

  “Fucking hell,” my Dad says. He throws me an apologetic look then adds, “Shit, the – package – is due to arrive at sixteen hundred, get moving and don’t be late.”

  “Dad,” I protest, “my class.” I’m in a program to help me study for the bar exam. They don’t repeat it often and it cost a fre
aking fortune. “The package can get a Lyft. I’m not missing my class.” I look at him fiercely and then add, “Sir.”

  I notice Ethan is trying to repress a grin.

  “I can drop her off, sir,” he says. "If that’s okay with you."

  My heart begins to pound. My palms are sweaty and the island heat becomes unbearable enough that I want to tear my clothes open. I’m going to be a little…what’s the word?

  Distracted? Deranged? Horny!

  Shit.

  The two officers discuss, argue, and strategize. It’s as though dropping me off at my class requires the same precision as planning a foreign invasion.

  Twenty minutes after the Great Strategic How-To-Get-to-Honolulu Summit, I’m in the passenger seat cruising down the freeway.

  Ethan is driving.

  I’m glad he requisitioned the steering wheel because my heart's still beating an extra hundred times a minute. My hands are shaking. When I glance over, my eyes drift to the bulge in his pants. It’s still the most impressive I’ve ever seen, not that I go around checking them all, obviously. Is he possibly thinking of me or is it someone else? His ex wife, Lisa, perhaps. When he slides his glance from the road to me, I sense that I’m on his radar. So I shift in my seat and make sure he can get a good look at my legs.

  He catches me staring at the tent his pants are erecting and I bat my eyes.

  Can he really want me? Heat rises like wildfire in my body, even thinking the question.

  “So, how is your studying going?” he asks, like nothing is happening here.

  I’m too nervous to answer immediately. Then I’m afraid he’s going to think I’m a blathering idiot if I even try. “Can we listen to the radio?” I ask.

  “Sure, but you answered my question with a question.”

  He smiles at me, dimples in full effect.

  “Like you, I seem to be studying topics outside the usual curriculum,” I say, because he’s definitely spending more time staring at my legs than out the windshield.

  “I suspect your father wouldn’t be very pleased,” he replies, apparently missing my meaning here. Or maybe not. Enough beating around the issue. Time to ramp up the direction. YOLO, right?

  “No, he’d kill us. But maybe I don’t care.”

  “What?” he snaps, that brutish frown coming over his mouth.

  Oh, shit. Did I just say what I think I said? Retreat. Remove foot from mouth.

  “I mean…”

  He looks at me. I've never before experienced the jolt of power and electricity that tingles through my spine at that moment. It’s as if he’s reading every flicker that passes through my mind. I squirm in my seat and look out the window. As I squeeze my thighs together, my dripping panties squelch between my thighs. I can’t resist a peek to see if he’s checking me out.

  He’s staring rigidly ahead but must sense my query because his eyes meander to the side before batting right back to the road ahead.

  Traffic heading into Honolulu at this hour is not so bad. Ethan stays in the middle lane and turns the volume down on the radio. I can almost feel his thoughts. “I’ve always held back being honest with you,” he says, then explains with, “Occupational hazard and all.”

  “And?” I squirm and twist. I adjust my seat belt.

  This can’t be happening.

  I can feel my body reacting and my fidgeting isn’t disguising it. My nipples have stiffened. My face has flushed hot and red. I don’t know if I’m capable of speech as I lean towards him slightly to show that I’m still paying attention to his words. My fingers are itching to reach out and trail across his large gnarled hand.

  “About last night. I think you’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met. I’ve eavesdropped on you and your dad many times, wishing I could jump in and talk to you. Or take your side.”

  “Which you did last night.”

  “Yeah it finally all became too much.”

  “Too much?”

  “Not being able to ask you out for so much as a cup a coffee...it’s torturous.”

  At last. I can’t help but smile inwardly as he confesses his love for me. Okay not love but you know – feelings.

  I try unsuccessfully to wet my mouth so I can form a sentence and speak. “I um…” I gulp and compose myself, then try again. “I um… I feel…”

  I turn to look out the window again, mute with – what? My thoughts are a blur. I’ve fantasized about this moment for years.

  Ethan Hayes noticed me? OMG! He doesn’t think I’m a silly school girl with a dumb crush on an older, more experienced man. Maybe he doesn’t realize I have a crush on him, too.

  “That little tongue of yours tied for once?” he asks.

  “I um…” I still can’t speak. Thoughts of where I’d like to put that little tongue overwhelming me.

  “I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable,” he says, a shadow of doubt on his face as he misinterprets my silence.

  “I never imagined you’d be interested in me,” I blurt. “A dumb girl who failed the bar exam.”

  “Lot’s of people fail the first time, Rylie,” he says in a comforting tone. “Even a few times. And you’re not even close to dumb. I’ve been listening to you for years, whenever I’m over drinking beer with your old man.”

  “Oh yeah? So then, what animal was center of a project I was working on last February with the World Wildlife Fund?”

  “Ah, a test.” He grins.

  “Of course,” I smile. “Gotcha.”

  “Let me think now. Wasn’t it the green sea turtle?” he says immediately.

  “You were paying attention!” I squeal.

  “Of course. Gotcha.”

  4

  Ethan

  Driving with Rylie is semi mind-blowing. What with it being the first time ever that we’ve been alone. Aside from the brief tong-hunt in the kitchen last night that culminated in me coming as close as a cut-throat shave to kissing her. The burning need to take her mouth in mine almost scorched us both. No coming back from that kind of physical announcement.

  We’re skirting around it now, neither of us seems willing to drop the bomb on this. I warned Frank of consequences and then became concerned about them myself. Entirely different ones but what would my bud say if he thought I meant I’d take Rylie from him? Now, alone with her, the electric spark in the tight space is fucking nuclear.

  There’s no doubt about what’s happening here but there’s also no question that it’s all wrong. Rylie says she doesn’t care but she’s not the one likely to lose everything. A career, buddy, lifestyle on a laid back island. Her father will forgive her while I’ll end up on guard duty.

  Does she really feel the same attraction as me?

  She picks my hand up off the gear stick and rests it on her bare leg, blowing my mind all over again. Her skin is so soft yet so firm, I can only imagine how the rest of her perfect body feels. I stroke across her inner thigh just a little, just enough to feel her velvet smoothness. I drive with one hand on the wheel, relishing the feel of her flesh, so delicious, my tongue longs to be sliding there.

  “Ethan,” she murmurs and arches slightly as though trying to squirm her way out from the sensation rocking her body.

  “What, baby?” I ask, looking at the desire filling her doe eyes, the way she looks at me with yearning. The same yearning -

  “Ethan,” she screams.

  I detect the accident up ahead from the radar vision trained into my eyeline and on auto pilot, my foot moves to slam on the brakes.

  Rylie lets out a gasp of a scream but our seat belts hold us without the air bags engaging. I stopped the car before we crashed into the pile up. I also reflexively braced my arm to shield Rylie from going through the windscreen. My hand slid up her thigh with the jolt of the braking. Now we’re sitting here stunned from the close call. I’m even more shocked and awed by the press of her firm tits against my bicep. And by her more abundant flesh, when my hand lurched, I now grip and dig my fingers into the very top of he
r thigh. The heat under my palm is way hotter at this level. I’m less than an inch from her pussy, my grasp rendering red marks on her skin that will surely bruise and be the one injury she sustains from this accident.

  “Are you okay?” I grit out.

  She nods, working her full lips anxiously.

  I control the adrenaline from the close call as I’m trained to and slow down its mad gush through my veins. But the pulsating blood from the softly intimate I’m still holding under my hand rushes faster. Her skin is burning up under my touch and sparks fly through my gut at being this close to her pussy.

  “Sure?” I rasp with a croak.

  She nods again but we remain frozen in stasis. If I move my hand it’s like admitting I’m caressing her most intimate part, something I’ve wanted to do for many years without even knowing it. One small movement and I’d slide into her slickness and deeper into her tight pussy. I don’t dare move a muscle. And Riley sits rigid in shock too.

  “I’ll go check that everyone’s okay,” I grunt.

  I lift my hand from her thigh like it might shatter, so careful am I not to slide one millimeter higher between her parted thighs. For all the world I want to bury myself in between them but of course that can't happen.

  It can never happen.

  All this happens in mere seconds but feels like we’ve been frozen in time for hours. I unpeel from the car seat and push the door back, glad for once of the heat outside that allows me respite from that inside me. Riley watches through the windshield as I swiftly take charge of the scene, making sure everyone else involved in the accident is unharmed. My heartbeat in no way calms. The points where her body connected to mine are still hot, my skin on fire with the need for more of her.

  Then she’s behind me, her hands on my bicep.

  “Is everyone okay?” she asks, then, “I called 911.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  I want to wrap an arm around her and show her she has my support and is safe, then I spot a child in the back seat of one of the vehicles stopped by the pile up.