by Mia Madison
“Sorry, little bud,” I say. “Daddy had a problem at work.”
“It’s okay, daddy, I was busy too,” he says, holding up a jar of insects.
“Hop in. You can go back to catching bugs when we get home.”
“They aren’t bugs, they’re aliens,” he says as if I’m completely out of touch with reality.
“Okay, they’re aliens.” I smile at him and rub his head as he buckles in. “Look, Tiger. Your mom is not going to be here tomorrow and I have to go on an Army mission first thing in the morning.”
He looks down and kicks at the car seat. “Do you have to go?” he whimpers, trying to sound brave.
“Yes, my boss is not at all flexible. I’m sorry.”
“When will mom be back?” he says, biting his lip.
“I don’t know,” I say, with sadness in my voice. I feel terrible for the little guy because it’s not his fault his mother is such a flake. Aside from general abandonment every time some new guy comes into the picture, I can’t even count the times she’s hurt his feelings.
“So...I’m going to drop you off at Auntie Marta’s house, you know you love that and she said she’d get her grand-nephews over to play soon. She’ll watch you until your mom gets back. Or I do.” Whichever comes first. I’m sure it’ll depend entirely on how long Lisa can keep the insanity under wraps.
“Daaaad,” he moans.
I know he’s disappointed. My neighbor Marta is sweet, kind, and attentive to him, but she’s no kid and goes to bed at seven. I think Caden ends up watching movies more than I’d like when he’s at her place. I feel like a rotten father now, and my anger toward Lisa grows. What kind of mother doesn’t care about her child’s feelings?
“What say we go get pizza, Bud?” I cajole putting my hand on Caden’s shoulder. I'll drop you Marta’s house after we eat. I have to take off very early, so you need to spend the night.”
“Daaaaad!” he protests again.
I feel worse as I resort to some more bribery and say, “We’ll get ice cream together on the way.”
Bad dad, but at least he reluctantly complies.
I take Caden to dinner, he seems distracted, but eats several pieces of pizza and a double ice cream cone.
“You have a chocolate mustache,” I say.
He licks his lip and then wipes the back of his hand across his face.
“They’ve got napkins,” I lift one and dab at his little mouth. My son is the absolute cutest even with a boo-boo. His little freckled face, kid glasses and mop of blonde hair make me wanna pick him up and hug him all day long.
He takes the napkin from me and wipes his own mouth, letting me know he’s a grown up now.
“You’re going to have a lot of fun at Marta’s house. Okay, Bud?”
“I will,” he states bravely.
I don’t want to start feeding my anger towards his irresponsible mother, so I rub his head, remind myself that he’s a great kid. Then I drive him home to the sitter’s house.
5
Rylie
“Come on, it sounds like he wants you. Bad.” Alani Kamaka has been my bestie since kindergarten but I’ve never mentioned my dad’s pal to her before now. Ethan was always a guilty secret I kept to myself.
Being stranded without a car, she drove me home on condition I spill. So I invited her in for Mai Tais and gossip. I explain the barbecue then the ride with Ethan, the glances between us, my growing heat. And most especially, his hand on my thigh.
She smiles like a hungry shark and says, “Tell me more.”
I’m happy to oblige. I’m like motor mouth when it comes to my Major. Talking about him is as close as I can get to the real thing right now.
“I’m not sure I’m reading him right. It’s complicated and I’m worried about-dad.”
“It’s your life!” Alani blusters.
“I know, but you know how the Army--”
“You’re not in uniform, girl.”
I sit on the bed next to her and sigh. “You want to listen to something?”
“Sure. The Weekend, Future, I don’t care. Even Ed Sheeran if you want,” Alani says.
I pair my iPhone with an external speaker that sits on my desk and pull back the bamboo shades enough to peak out.
“Isn’t he kind of old for you though?” Alani wrinkles her nose. “Being your dad’s bestie.”
“Maybe I’m immune, but the difference, physically speaking between Ethan and my father is like a gladiator and an armadillo.”
“Hmm I’m not getting the analogy.”
“Then let me put it to you in simple terms. Ethan is sexy as fuck.” Shit, I can only imagine the repercussions if my father heard me blurt that one out. “He has the dimples and grin of Jake Gyllenhaal. The Army-approved crop cut reminds me of him in Jarhead.”
“Oh crap, you’re sounding like a love-struck groupie,” Alani says.
From my perch on the window seat I gaze out to the street. Traffic is sporadic, so when I see a car that looks just like my father’s drive slowly past, a spasm pinches my clit.
“Fuck!” I exclaim, craning at the driver’s side.
“What?” Alani asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I think I just saw Ethan drive down my street.” It could be him, but it’s too dark to be certain. Regardless, my body reacts as if it’s him, and I feel like I’m in junior high, crushing on the quarterback.
“The dude must have it super bad.”
“I can’t be sure. His regular car is in the shop. Maybe I’m seeing things."
“Girl you obsessed, you’re seeing him everywhere.”
I look down the street, but all I can see in the distance are receding tail lights. “Whoever it was, he’s gone.”
“You think he was checking to see if you’re home alone?” She grins. “Or are you delusional from wishful thinking?”
“Nooo,” I protest. “He drops by to see dad all the time. It probably wasn’t even him.”
“You’re seeing his face everywhere. You’re probably imagining his cock too amirite?” Alani laughs. “Do you think he’s got a massive dick?”
“Stop,” I say. “You’re making me horny.”
“He’s at home waiting for you right now. He’s naked and probably stroking his pole and pretending it’s you.”
“Stop, I can’t take it,” I say laughing.
“I’ll drive you over and drop you off,” she says.
“Oh, bitch!” I can’t stop laughing at her antics, but inside my heat has risen and I’m going to have to admit she’s right. I want him bad. But I’m not ready to admit this out loud, so I laugh at her and plop back onto the bed. I stare at the ceiling. I wonder if it really was Ethan driving by? And if it was, what does it mean?
“Don’t worry, my brother will be happy to fuck you if this doesn’t work out,” Alani teases.
“What the hell?” I sit up. “I’m not interested in your brother. I mean, yeah, he’s good looking and probably a great guy. Just not for me.”
“He likes you,” she says. “I think.”
“He said something to you?” I ask.
Kahoni is the very definition of a Local Hawaiian Boy. He’s dark skinned, handsome, cocky, confident, and a great surfer. I suspect he’s also a player. He’s a young alpha, and I’ve seen him with a few different girls just in the last few weeks alone.
“He just asked me if you were seeing anyone,” she says.
“And what did you say?”
“I told him you were totally desperate because you hadn’t been laid in like a year.”
“You didn’t?” I squeal, tossing a stuffed dolphin at her.
She laughs. “No. I told him I’d talk to you. That’s all.”
“I can’t even think about anyone else right now.”
“You need this dude. You’d better do something about it.”
I think about her admonition and know that she’s right. My dilemma is that I still don’t know if Ethan wants me for a tro
phy notch or if he’s actually interested in the real me. Or even if he wants me at all.
Alani leaves and I crawl into bed where Ethan again takes over.
What might have happened today in my father’s car? Thoughts of his mouth on me, all over me, dance through my mind like a perfectly orchestrated hula. At the heart of my deeply imagined fantasy I belong to him. He possesses every last inch of me.
Ethan takes me hard, soft, fast, and slow. I’m certain he’s like no other man I’ve known. His experience would make his expert dominance of a woman total.
I moan and lift my hips off the bed, aching for him. Alone. Naked. Sweating in the Oahu heat.
His big cock, because I’m certain from the size of his hands that his shaft has to be significant and strong, saws in and out of me. Those hard hands expertly cover my small body, squeezing my round breasts, the perky curve of my butt. Ethan would masterfully possess me over and over again until our desires, lusts, and passion were satisfied.
“I’ve always been yours and only yours,” I whimper, breathlessly lost in my fantasy.
“I feel the same,” he husks, as his lips trail a line of kisses the length of my neck and chest before sucking a nipple between his lips. “I always have but..”
Oh, never mind… it’s never going to happen. I roll over and force myself to be content with the image of Ethan as he left my father’s office. The perfect vision of his solidly retreating tight rear end.
The next day, after a night of restless sexy dreams, I realize I have no car to get to class.
“Go pick up the boat from Ethan,” Dad tells me. I don’t need to be told twice to grab a second chance. All I’ve been able to think about is his hand on my thigh, one inch from my swollen pussy.
When his fingers curled around the side of my thigh, I parted my lips, silently praying that he’d lean forward and touch them with his full ones. His fingertips squeezed my upper thigh and every cell was urging his thumb to unfurl and burrow under my shorts. I knew my panties were soaked through. An inch higher and Ethan would have known it too. If I shunted my hips forward he’d have razed across the aching point that I want him to touch more than anything in the world.
I almost shifted.
Almost.
But I couldn’t be quite that brazen.
The good girl always holds me locked motionless. Ethan’s glazed eyes, filled with hungry lust, suddenly unsnapped from mine. The moment lost forever.
6
Ethan
When my ex dropped Caden, our six-year-old son, on my doorstep, I wasn’t prepared to figure out all the logistics of getting him to and from school. He has after-school care, martial arts practice, and homework. The education system has different holidays and off-days than the military. And sometimes I have to work nights and weekends.
To top it all off, Lisa, didn’t consider leaving him with any extra clothes or any of his toys, books or personal things he could entertain himself with. I could be biased but my kid is such a little trooper, he didn’t let out a word of complaint. He must be used to this solitude, hence the playing with sticks and insects for friends.
Over dinner, I taught him how to make paper airplanes and he sat swinging his legs, happy as a clam while he purposely folded every menu the waitress supplied him with. Guilty dad then took him on a shopping spree worthy of Christmas. Christ, the price of kids shoes, when they’re only going to outgrow them before they wear out. But having him with me is worth whatever it costs. His little hand clutching mine as he asks me all sorts of questions about fighter jets. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the greatest fucking hero.
For a little while.
I’d arranged to have a calabash auntie pick him up from school and drop him at tae kwon do practice, but she’d sent me a text message this morning letting me know she was extremely sick.
Stupid me, I’d messaged her back not to worry about it. Then I forgot my little guy didn’t have a ride. Too busy with my hands all over my CO’s daughter. At least he’s safe with Marta.
After dropping him off and feeling like a bigger shit as he clung to my neck, me on my knees, unwilling to let each other go. I drive for a while, out of the way, instead of going straight home. I need time to think before I pack my gear and try to get a few hours sleep before I’m picked up to go to the airport at o-dark-thirty. My thoughts keep returning to Rylie.
I can’t get her out of my mind, and I’m not sure I want to. I’ve been struck lately by a recurring vision of her. It keeps returning to me, like when the wind shifts and the scent of plumeria and night jasmine fill my little cottage. I see her brown eyes looking at me. I watch as she teases me with her lips and wiggles her hips. I want her.
The mere glimpse of her presence in my imagination fires my libido. My wood is standing tall and with every heartbeat, it pulses with desire. I find myself driving down her street, knowing full well I can’t stop and see her.
I’m not sure when I made the decision to turn this direction, but like a homing pigeon, I find myself being driven by instinct and desire. I know her bedroom window is the one covered with a bamboo shade. I helped Frank install them last year. The wooden window covering blocks any chance of catching a glimpse of her as I drive by, but I still imagine her there, winking, smiling enticingly, summoning me to her bed. I slow the car and then realize how reckless I’m acting. She’s unavailable to me. No matter what actions I take, I can’t see a way around the obstacles that separate us.
Ten minutes later I pull into my driveway.
I’m still frustrated, hard, aching. Desire has clouded my mind so much that I barely make it to my bedroom before I’ve stripped off my clothes. Closing my eyes, I think of Rylie. I feel the heat between my legs and know there’s only one way I’ll find comfort and get a restful sleep tonight.
She’s standing over me licking her lips.
Her hips sway in a slow, seductive hula dance.
Rylie’s breasts move in time with her body.
Placing her hand on her pussy, she strokes her clit and teases.
Lustful brown eyes captivate me.
I work myself into a frenzy, rubbing my huge shaft vigorously to the image in my head of her standing naked before me. As I release in an explosion, I whisper, “Rylie.” Hearing the sweet syllables that form her name I say, “I want you in my life.”
I gasp and bring my breathing back under control. Sweat drips from my face. In the shower, minutes after I’ve come, I spend an eternity under the cold water simultaneously telling myself I’ll do whatever it takes to have a chance with her and that it’s an impossible fantasy that will only end in heartbreak.
Just a few hours later I look out the window. Below me is a blanket of white so thick I cannot see the ocean. As the plane levels off high in the atmosphere, I attempt to sleep, but I’ve got too much on my mind to enter dreamland.
Rylie’s presence in the past, has been distracting and disconcerting at times, but I always felt it was a passing phase.
The more time that passed, as she transformed from an awkward teen to a graduate with an advanced degree, the more I realized I wanted to know her in ways that would do nothing but cause problems. Now my desire for her has incited a lack of care about potential problems and an obsession with the lack and loss I’d feel if she wasn’t in my life.
Her silky smooth skin pressed against mine. Perky round breasts, long tan legs, and in my imagination I see a tight little pussy ready to enrapture me.
Imagining her now, I get an uncomfortable feeling in my groin that accompanies a bothersome badly-timed hard-on.
Shit. It isn't a good time to have my pants-soldier standing at attention. I’m on a military flight along with a dozen guys from my unit. We’re headed to a Navy base on Guam to deal with a legal issue sparked by an altercation between a few Army grunts, a couple of jarheads, and two Navy SEALS.
SNAFU applies in triplicate, and I’m sure by the end of the day there will be significant repercussions going up the chain-
of-command. My job is to make sure everyone plays fairly with the law, a task which is harder than it looks.
Even as I consider my duties, my uncomfortable erection won’t go away. Rylie’s magic works on me even when I’m a thousand miles away. I shift in my seat.
“Hey, Hayes,” someone says from the next aisle over, “you look like you need to let one loose. Do us a favor and take it to the head.”
“Keep your eyes to yourself, dickhead,” I respond, but secretly I’m wondering how badly dreaming about Rylie is affecting my mind. I need to be able to do my job.
I think about the case. Then I reflect on my last physical training scores, better than most, but maybe I could improve? Getting Rylie out of my mind is harder than I thought because when I consider my workout routine, I realize the main benefit of having a fit body would be to share it with her.
I shift in my seat, again, open a book, but I can’t concentrate. Then I realize I’ve forgotten to straighten things out with Marta for the care of Caden while I’m gone. I know she’ll handle it, but I wish I’d made an effort to appear more responsible. If his mother weren't off in southeast Asia boning a stoner, our son's life would be more stable and secure.
I’m agitated, but at least reminders of my villainous ex-wife have eliminated my awkward stiffy. Thank God for small favors.
In spite of the uniforms, weapons, and military vehicles, my day-to-day job isn’t much different than an average civilian lawyer. My first responsibility is to be a soldier but my life is paperwork, filings, case studies, reports, and the interviews.
“Hey, Major Hayes,” one of the lieutenants whispers from across the aisle, “did you check out the ass on that She-Private?”
“What?” I say coming out of my mind fog.
“That ass,” he repeats.
“No,” I say sternly. “I did not. And try to remember that we take sexual harassment seriously these days.”
He lets out a derisive guffaw and someone else says, much too loudly, “I think the Major is in love. What else would cause a man to miss that piece that just walked by?”