And he hugs me. He gives me the awkward freaking hug. The one I give my boss when she gives me a gift card to Starbucks on my birthday. When he leans back, the one-dimpled smile is on his face. Even though I’m still mentally sorting outthe hug,I want to lick that, too.
“I’ll call you. Bye, Windsor,” he says. It’s okay for him to fuck my name with his voice, but he definitely doesn’t want to have sex with me tonight. I am seriously in need of my therapist.
I watch him walk back to his car, which is still running, and try to decipher the Maverick code. I can’t. I probably won’t ever be able to. When I enter the condo I come to the conclusion that with a man like Maverick, you don’t try to decipher, you just ride the waves as they come and hope like hell you can hold on tight enough to enjoy the ride— or at the very least prevent yourself from drowning.
As I try to fall asleep several agonizing hours later, my phone chimes with a new text.
Are you awake? I got a new phone and number. It’s miraculously silent.
I stare at it blindly, trying to decide how best to respond.
I type back,I wish my head were as silent as your phone.
A second later.Go out with me tomorrow. All day. I’ll pick you up at 9.
Only if you promise not to awkward hug me ever again.
Chapter Seven
Maverick
I’ve killed men before. I watch their heads explode through the scope of my gun. I hate to break it to you, but it’s nothing like how it happens inCall of Duty. Blood sprays like a halo of red and then nothing. The crackle of life that hums in the air gets a little duller. Less life exists in the space surrounding me than it did only moments before. I don’t know how I can tell; it’s just like breathing, but death really is another sense.
After that trigger pull I feel release and a huge sense of accomplishment. After years and years of practicing, I get to do exactly what the Navy trained me to do. Of course directly following, I question my fucking sanity for the exaltation that comes with a snuffed life. It’s not about whom you kill. It’s about what you save. My brothers are beside me—like they always are, chasing down the same sense of enlivenment that only comes from this line of work. If the monsters on the other side of the scope don’t die, one of my brothers could. Or worse, an innocent.
Windsor is an innocent. She is so good that the opposite sense of death has reared its head. I have the urge to protect her. I want to protect her from all the bad around us. I get so caught up in her good and in the way she makes me feel that I forget that the main thing I should protect her from—that she should be fearful of—is myself.
I’ve made the decision to try to be with her…whatever that really means. There isn’t another option. I can’t think of anything else. When I close my eyes I see huge blue eyes, her cheekbones, her white smile. Oh, I still think of her sucking and fucking, but now it’s more. Way more. I’m worried if I don’t get whatever the fuck this is out of my system before deployment, I might not be as focused as I need to be. I’m losing my normal precision control and it scares the shit out of me. I’m afraid to kiss her because I’m afraid to fuck her because I’m afraid of what that will mean. I know enough to know I can’t fuck Windsor Forbes out of my system. The tiny glimpses I’ve gotten into her world only intrigue me and make me want to know more.
For the first time in my entire life I want more from another person and I can’t give what I take. It’s a mutual relationship with my teammates. What I give, they give back. It’s symbiotic. I can tell Windsor wants more from me, and that’s the scariest fucking thing of all. Because I know I’ll eventually give it to her. And it will wreck her completely to pieces. The damage will be catastrophic. Worse than death. The biggest halo of dark red blood spray will come from the right section of my own God damned chest.
Currently, my pulse resides in my cock. She’s in the passenger seat of my car wearing the smallest jean shorts I’ve ever seen. Her long tan legs are stretched in front of her. Tiny gray Converse shoes tap along to music. The white tank top rides up every time she leans over to mess with the radio, and I pray that static will fuzz out a song every couple minutes so I can catch a glimpse of exposed skin. With her hair down and her face almost bare of makeup, she looks like a walking water board created especially for me. Torture on every level. I haven’t even figured out what exactly it is about her that makes her so different from every other girl I’ve met in the last five years.What holds my interest? What keeps me engaged?I have no clue. I actually sat down and made a list of pros and cons of dating Windsor. The only cons were all things that dealt with me. Things that I can’t change, that are my fault. Not hers.
I put Steve in place the second I bought a new cell phone. He knows exactly where I stand with her, even if he doesn’t understand it. On a whim, I decided to change my number so my phone wouldn’t be blowing up with texts and calls from all of the insignificants. I meant what I told her. I really don’t want anything to do with anyone else. That said, I need to get laid badly. My cock saluted Windsor the second she came bouncing down the stairs when I picked her up. I’ve had to work at keeping it at bay as I drive, but even her damn voice gets to me. This is our fourth date since the horrible dinner date.
A pop song blares out of my speakers, causing me to wince a little. “I love this song,” she says, curling her legs underneath her. “How can you drive without glancing at me even once?” she asks. “I mean, I’m glad you’re a safe driver, but what gives? Are you worried about crashing this beautiful piece of machinery?” I chuckle. Little does she know my peripheral vision has been studying her every subtle curve for the past twenty minutes. She refers to my car with such reverence. I love it.
“Some things demand your full attention,” I say. To make a point I turn my head and look directly at her. She startles and her full lips part. I make a show of running my eyes down over her cleavage and back up again. She smiles.
“Just drive, please,” she says, her voice a little breathy. I love that I affect her. “You should tell me where we’re going, too.” I focus my attention back on the bare road. Sunday mornings are always like this. I’m usually on my bike, by myself, but this…with her, feels good. She rubs her hand on the bottom of the seat, feeling the leather.
I grab one of her hands in my right hand and squeeze. “It’s a surprise. I owe you. You granted me multiple dates so I have to make every second count,” I say, rubbing my thumb over the dip between her fingers. She sighs a little. A jolt runs from my stomach all the way down to my dick.A nun or my grandpa on a cold, wet day. A nun or my grandpa on a cold, wet day.The mental distraction works.
She captures my hand on top and starts rubbing my fingers back. “Good. I don’t want to have to call Steve for that date anytime soon,” she says, voice teasing. Jealousy. A feeling I’m not used to hits me like a brick wall. Even though I know she’s joking, I can’t stop it. We’ve shared girls before, more times than I’d like to admit, but the thought of Windsor with anyone else makes me crazed. One of my brothers? Fuck no. “Well, at least I know he wouldn’t awkward hug me after arealdate,” she finishes, and I feel like she’s hit me in the gut. I’ve avoided touching her as much as possible, even going as far as not walking her to the door so I’m not tempted to kiss her goodbye.
“I can let him know you’re interested in non-awkward hugging if you want?” I tell her, my tone far too sharp to be joking, which is what I was aiming for. She laces her fingers in between mine, fitting our hands together perfectly. Mine big. Her’s small.
“I was joking. I’d rather awkward hug you than anything with Steve. You have to tell me though…you said you wanted me and then you hug me and then you nothing me. What’s that about?”
“I want to take it slow, that’s all,” I admit. It’s a truth, just not a whole truth. I’m not sure why exactly I don’t want to bag her just yet.
“Because you’ve never gone slow before?” she asks. I think she’s joking, but one look at her face says otherwise. I guess it makes sense she’d think that. I know the general public expects us to keep up fast-paced lifestyles. I’m sure everything she knows about me and my profession came from either Morganna or Dr. Google.
“Yeah. I guess that’s about right,” I admit. “Don’t think I don’t want to fuck you five ways from Sunday, though. That would be a lie. I don’t do lies…ever. In perfect honesty, I’ve never wanted to insert my penis into a body more than I do yours.” I do look at her after I speak. I have to see her face. Sure, it was crass. I mean it.
Eyes wide, she just glares at me. The thought comes perfectly, sanely—Windsor wants everything I just said. She wants to fuck me. And for all her talk of not wanting sex with anyone or me, she just gave herself away. It’s so obvious. A little of her innocence slips away in this moment and I couldn’t be happier. I turn the steering wheel into our destination –a huge barren patch of land with tire tracks leading to a small building surrounded by airplanes.
“It’s okay to want to be fucked five ways from Sunday, Windsor,” I say, turning off the car. She swallows audibly. I watch the top of her breasts as they rise up and down. She is so fucking beautiful I can’t stand it. Sitting in this car, which is now off, I can focus on her completely.
