Desire

by Mia Madison

  “Come on,” he says. “We’ll catch up to Caden and say goodbye to the turtles. Then we’ll go get dinner.”

  He takes my hand to lead me down the sand just as if today were the first day of forever.

  8

  Ethan

  I turn on the air conditioning and the radio for Caden. “I’ll just be a minute, son.”

  Rylie waited outside my car. We’d both driven separately to the beach. As much as I wanted to never let her out of my sight, leaving her car behind is dumb.

  “Are you sure we should do this?” she asks me.

  “I’m sure,” I say. “It’s just dinner.”

  “You know it’s more than that.”

  “I guess it’s too late to turn back.”

  “You want to?”

  “What? Turn back the clock? No.”

  “You know what I mean. Are you sure?” she asks me with a serious tone in her voice. Her huge brown eyes lock on mine, and I know behind them are fair questions about my intentions and desires.

  “I’m as sure as anything I’ve ever put my trust in. You’re unbelievable. Smart and beautiful. It’s a deadly combination.”

  “But my father? The army? Your job? Your ex? Your boy?”

  “We can work things out. One of those insurmountable obstacles at a time.”

  I know the issues do seem that way, especially her father. I’ve been friends with Frank for almost ten years and I believe we’re close. I’m certain he wants the best for his daughter, but also that sometimes he’s overbearing. When it comes to her life, he has to let Rylie make up her own mind.

  She gives me a quick hug.

  “Raymond’s Fish House at eight,” I burr into her hair.

  “I’ll be there,” she says.

  We’d decide to take separate vehicles again. I’m guessing she’s not ready to announce to the world that we’re defying the unofficial rules regarding officer’s daughters. I also think she’s more afraid of her father than she’s letting on and I don’t want to scare her away.

  As I drive to drop off at Marta’s house, Caden falls asleep. He’s had an incredible day with Rylie. Whatever happens now, good or bad, will affect him as well. I can see he’s already smitten with her. She’s patient, kind, and fun to be with.

  This makes things even more complicated. When his mother ran off, I realized I’d been a bad judge of character. While I don’t regret having our son together, I remind myself that I can’t always be trusted when it comes to relationships.

  I hope Rylie is different. I’ve known her years so she’s not an insta-love kind of lust. But I do need to know she’s loyal, sincere and faithful if she’s going to be in my life. Our lives.

  The restaurant and bar are crowded when I arrive. It’s Saturday night, and we are at one of the best places in town. Our table is going to be at least thirty minutes.

  “Let’s get a drink while we wait,” I tell Rylie.

  Her light cotton dress clings, revealing curves I can only allow myself moments to imagine without getting bolt hard. I don’t want to stand in a crowded bar with my cock straining my pants like a hormonal teen. That’s what she does to me though and I can barely contain myself.

  We squeeze into the crowd at the bar and that closeness makes the bastard throb harder. She accepts her drink from me with a smile. Does she know?

  “When did you start collecting beach glass?” I mumble, completely out of my head with raging hunger for her.

  “Oh, years ago. My friend Alani introduced me. It’s kind of silly but really fun, like an Easter egg hunt. Or riding on daddy’s shoulders.”

  “What are your plans once you pass the bar?” I say as my wood threatens again.

  “Oh, God. Don’t remind me about the bar exam. Can tonight just be fun?” she says laughing.

  “You bet but really, it’s not so hard,” I say.

  “I’m really worried. What if I fail twice? Loo-ser.”

  “You won’t. I know a lot of successful lawyers who took the exam three or four times before they passed. It’s frustrating, but not the end of the world.”

  “I’d die if I failed three times.” She sips and appears reflective.

  I realize I should change the subject, but I want to encourage her just a bit more. “I know you’ll pass, don’t worry. Panic and worry are the only things that can make failure pop up. Try your damnedest to eradicate them.”

  “Thank you,” she breathes, with a smile of gratitude I hardly deserve.

  Our table becomes available so I put my hand on Rylie’s low back to walk her over and settle her in the chair. During dinner I keep the talk away from lawyering and the military. We talk about our childhoods and our hopes for the future.

  I feel so naturally comfortable with Rylie that I begin to look for the trap door. Is she going to squash my heart? It’s a risk I’m not afraid to take…I think.

  “Dessert?” I suggest.

  “Maybe we can share?”

  “Smart idea,” I say. “They have a molten chocolate soufflé, but it takes thirty minutes to make.”

  “I don’t have a curfew,” she says smiling at me.

  Her eyes sparkle, and I wonder what hidden message lies buried there like her treasure glass.

  I order two Irish coffees while we wait for the soufflé.

  When the drinks arrive, I lift my mug.

  “Let’s toast something,” she says.

  “Okay. To whipped cream, chocolate, sea turtles, and first kisses.”

  We clink and I set my mug down after sipping to gaze at Rylie’s lips. They are luscious, kissable, and currently sporting a creamy white mustache. I reach across the table and run my finger along her upper lip, removing a layer of sugary whipped cream. She grabs my hand.

  “You're not taking any of my cream,” she yelps.

  “Wanna bet on that?” I growl.

  Taking up the challenge, she sucks the two digits into her mouth and twirls her tongue around them. My cock instantly unfurls at her lascivious move. I stare into her eyes without blinking. Her gaze fixates me as she works my fingers slowly into and out of her mouth. Mesmerized by her boldness as she removes one finger then sucks the other, it’s like she’s blowing me right here at the table. My rod is standing up like a fucking marine beacon. If body parts could express jealousy, I know what my dick would be saying to my index finger right about now.

  Rylie slides just until the end of my finger reaches her lips. She kisses the tip, nibbles on it, and gives it a small bite before ramming it back forcefully into that wet pouty mouth. My dick is shoving insanely at my zipper. Fuck, does the bastard crave to switch places. Then reality strikes as the waiter blandly sets down a dish of hot chocolate decadence that I’d gladly ignore just to be held in Rylie’s mouth another moment. With a wink, she kisses each fingertip then uses one of them to slide the spoon across the table toward me.

  “Feed me,” she commands seductively.

  I break open the soufflé and steam rises off the molten chocolate. Taking a generous scoop of cake and darkly molten center. I lift it to my mouth and blow softly, letting her know that this is in store for every pore of her silky skin. I hold her gaze stapled in mine as she trails the tip of her tongue around her mouth, slowly preparing to receive me.

  When I approach with the spoon, her eyes roll back as she opens up. The movement of her tongue on the spoon as she sucks sends my cock insane with hunger that has nothing to do with chocolate cake. And I nearly lose it when she swallows.

  I’ve lost all desire for eating anything but Riley’s dripping folds. I feed her over and over until one last mouthful remains on the plate. Realizing I’ve made her eat the entire thing, Riley grabs the spoon from me. Without dropping her teasing stare and moves, she fills the spoon with the last morsel and lifts it to her mouth to blow.

  As she travels it across the table, I close my eyes and open wide. And wait. I’m dying…

  She giggles and when I open my eyes, the spoon is in her mouth.
/>   “You tease,” I say.

  “You can punish me later, Major Daddy,” she says without a shred of remorse.

  I can see how she loves getting me worked up. I’m still sporting a cock as stiff as a Hawaiian war club. I adjust myself in my seat as Rylie leans across the table and licks some imaginary chocolate off my lower lip.

  I kiss her quickly on the lips.

  She lifts her hands to my face and leans closer.

  I feel her tongue slide into my mouth. She tastes like chocolate, Baileys and coffee. I move my face closer, cup the back of her head, and dagger through her lush hair. We dance our tongues together as if nobody is watching. Her fingers gently massage my ears, cheeks, and neck. My cock throbs in anticipation, and I have to remind myself we’re in a restaurant. She sucks in deeply, making me her prisoner. I pull back, letting her know who’s in charge and take her soft but strong muscle into my mouth as deeply as I can. It’s not enough. I want more of her.

  All of her.

  I release her and smile.

  Slightly stunned from the lust rolling all around our table, we sit in silence until the check arrives.

  When the night finally ends, I find myself home, alone in my bed.

  Our last kiss in the restaurant parking lot was short. We both realized, I think, that driving and leaving separately was the safest course of action.

  Alone, naked, on fresh sheets, I wonder what she’s thinking as I bring myself to climax imagining her lips sliding over my cock as if my manhood was her favorite dessert.

  I now intend to make it my mission to find out soon enough.

  9

  Rylie

  Sunday evening I meet Alani for drinks and gossip. Kimo’s Bar & Grill features an inexpensive happy hour menu, so we munch on pupus while she grills me for details about Ethan.

  “What?” she says in her cutely accented English. “You not going fuck da guy?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “It’s so damn complicated.”

  “Nah,” she says. “No be afraid.”

  I sigh and sip my beer. “I guess you nailed it. I am afraid. You know those military guys. Can I really trust this one?”

  Alani shrugs. “If you no like, I happy to open my legs.”

  “Slut.” I giggle.

  “He smokin’ hawt guy,” she says.

  She’d drooled all over the selfie I showed her, that I took in the restaurant of the two of us grinning like idiots right after meltGate. “Plus, those bruddahs in da military make beaucoup monies.”

  “How the hell do you manage to mix French into Hawaiian slang?”

  “Beaucoup not French word.”

  “I swear,” I insist, sliding open an app. “It’s right here…one second. Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “I just got a text from Ethan.”

  “And what, you’re dripping already? Girl, just go fuck da guy.”

  Ignoring my bestie’s filthy commentary, I open the text.

  I had a great time last night. How about another dessert Wednesday?

  “He’s asking me to dinner Wednesday,” I tell Alani. “Well, dessert actually.”

  “Say yes! You know what dessert euphemism for. Try be loose, have fun. You can be all the uptight you want once you pass the bar and become lawyer.”

  “Jesus,” I say absentminded, but laughing at her.

  This is a terrible idea. I can’t even imagine how pissed off my dad will be when he finds out. And he will find out. He’s like the FBI and Russians rolled in one when it comes to men and me. I guess I appreciate that he wants to protect me, but I’m not a little girl anymore. The pulsations in my pussy indicate the only possible reply.

  I had a fab time too. Wednesday’s good.

  A text flies back meaning he was sitting on the app waiting for my answer. That warms my tummy.

  Perfect. I’ll send you the sweet deets later.

  I hold my phone up to show Alani. “See, I accepted.”

  “Good, otherwise I was going call him.”

  “You bitch, get your own man.”

  “Oh, so now he’s yours.”

  Shit. I don’t know what to say to that. I feel close to him. I’ve known Ethan for years, and he’s always been a decent, kind person. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago after his ex-wife ran off, and he was around my dad more often, talking about his divorce, that I started to feel an attraction to him. In my selfish lust I must have missed his pain and any mention of a child. So absorbed in a schoolgirl crush. But now? Now I’m worried.

  Military guys, especially handsome ones, are alpha males who do what the hell they want like they own the planet. I don’t know of any good-looking guys in my father’s circle who didn’t outright cheat or get caught planning it. I can count up dozens of divorces. Before mom left dad, I used to listen in on her gossip with her girlfriends. I heard a lot of horror stories.

  “Do you think a guy like that can stay faithful?” I ask Alani.

  “I don’t know. Men are men,” she says. “But, so what if he treats you good?”

  “Yuck,” I say. “You’re telling me you’d tolerate a cheater?”

  “If he’s good to me and pays the bills, why not?”

  “I don’t want to be that woman, turning a blind eye.”

  “It’s not like his dick going wear out,” she says. “Plus he’s a daddy so he’s got responsibility down.”

  “Shit,” I say. “Then there’s Caden. I adore the kid, but is Ethan actually that responsible with him?” They’re the poster single dad and son together but I can’t forget how I found Caden playing alone. “I wonder if that really makes a difference. It didn’t in my case. My mom took off.”

  Alani waves to the bartender. “Two more.”

  “It just complicates things more,” I add.

  “Everything stay complicated if you stay breathing.”

  “True.”

  I realize she’s right. Life is messy and complicated. Ethan isn’t a saint, I know. But he loves his kid and he’s a good man.

  “I know he’s a damn good kisser.” Oops, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

  “Finally you got kissed again. About time,” Alani says.

  “Oh, yes,” I say smiling so broadly my cheeks hurt.

  “Damn girl,” she says smacking my shoulder. “That good?”

  “Yeah, it was like a dream.”

  As the bartender sets down another round, my mind travels back to kissing Ethan and sharing a chocolate cake. He surprised me with this tenderness, but still, I keep imagining him ravaging me in bed, doing things to me that have never been done. Taking me to places I’ve never been. I fantasize about his naked body on top of me. His engorged hard cock spreading open my tightness, forcing me to surrender to him. Now I’m am blushing, and my panties are wet. I shift in my seat.

  “Yeah, you going last until Wednesday?” Alani asks.

  I swear she can read my mind. My cheeks flame again and I force my thoughts away from being fucked by Ethan Hayes.

  Monday was terrible.

  Tuesday is turning out to be worse. My dad had me drive him to work at five in the morning, all gruff and grouchy.

  “Don’t be late picking me up,” he barked.

  “I won’t.” Christ.

  I couldn’t resist snarling under my breath. “I’m not a child.”

  “Sometimes I wonder,” he said, leaning in through the open door. Then slamming it to stride towards his office. No ‘goodbye’, not even ‘have a nice day, Honey’ like he usual.

  I drive carefully in the light rain as I make my way into the city of Honolulu. I have a lot of errands to run, one of which is to pick up some new sexy underwear, just in case things go as planned with Ethan. I’m still in doubt about how ideal this is as a thing but I do want to be prepared for the fun part Alani insisted on. I’ve even made an appointment at the spa.

  The day begins to get better.

  I find a gorgeous black and red lacy set that makes my tits look fu
ller and was also on sale. I nibble a little poké as healthy lunch, then get myself all scrubbed up nice at the spa, including a manipedi in a dark red I hope is provocative. I really have no idea what an experienced man like Ethan finds sensual. I am however feeling sexy and confident, until the phone rings.

  “Hello, Mom,” I say answering through the car’s Bluetooth.

  Her voice booms through the speakers and I have to turn down the volume. “Rylie, how are you darling?”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “How’s the studying going?”

  “Peachy.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it. I’ve had a talk with your father,” she says, like that’s something they do often.

  “What?”

  “He says he suspects you're sneaking around at something.”

  “What?” I screech.

  “He says he doesn’t know who – yet – but some soldier is going to get sent to—”

  I interrupt her, “He said what?”

  “He says you’re to come stay with me while you finish studying for the bar exam.”

  “What the fuck?” I yell, frustrating on so many counts.

  “I’m not one of your college roomies, Lady,” she opines.

  “I don’t have a college roomie, Mom. I live with Dad.”

  “I think that’s the problem.”

  “Why’s that a problem?”

  “You’re going to end up with a military man, and he’s going to treat you the way your Dad treated me.”

  “Not all men are the same," I object.

  “Bullshit,” my mother says in the oracle mother tone. “Men are all the same. I was married to your father for almost twenty years. You know how many officers in the JAG Corps were faithful?”

  “Tell me,” I say resigned to hear a lecture. Again.

  “Not a single one. Not only are they Army, but they're also lawyers. Think about it."

  “So you’ve said,” often, “but I still find that hard to believe,” I argue.

  “I’m telling you. If you keep seeing this guy—”

  “Wait,” I say, interrupting her again, “who says I’m seeing a guy?”