Protecting Her Heart

by Chance Carter

  “Someone could see.”

  The more he protested, and they were totally weak protests, the more aroused I became. And more determined to taste him. I scooted forward, then brought my lips to his dick.

  I didn’t lick him yet, just opened my mouth and exhaled, teased him.

  He stared at me, stroking my crown, then down the back of my neck and back up again, mussing my sleek hair. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know. I want to,” I said, “more than anything.”

  Ryan lost his sense of reluctance as the words left me. He placed light pressure on the back of my head and forced my lips onto his dick. I opened my mouth wide and took as much as I could, jaw aching from the sheer girth of him.

  He felt good inside my mouth. He tasted delicious, and my own juices dripped down the inside of my thigh.

  “That’s good,” he said, and glanced at the door. “Fuck, Chanel, that’s so good.”

  I plunged him deep into my throat, as far as he could go, then back out again and circled that ridge around his fat, throbbing head with my tongue. I’d never enjoyed this before him, but the tension in his leg muscles, the twitches, drove me wild.

  He loved how it felt and I loved doing it for him.

  “More,” I said, “I need more of you.” I worked his now wet shaft with my right hand and matched the rhythm with my mouth around his head, teasing that most sensitive spot which I knew would make him come.

  He sat back and dug his fingers into the arms of his chair. “Fuck,” he said, “Chanel, wait, I’m going to come.”

  “Good, I want you to come in my mouth,” I replied. “I want to taste it.”

  “Later.”

  “What?”

  “After.” He grasped my elbows and lifted me into a standing position in front of his chair. Ryan worked my skirt up over my thighs and revealed the trail of wetness, the result of his flavor on my tongue.

  “Oh yes,” he said, and parted my legs, then my lips. He ran his finger between them, then looped his arm around me, and buried his face in my crotch.

  I lifted my leg to give him better access, and pulled his hair, directing him with tugs. “Uh-huh,” I uttered. Shuddering. My left leg threatened to collapse, but he held me upright. “Oh gawd.”

  The slurping noises, his fingers probing my entrance. Fuck, I couldn’t handle much more of this. My ass tightened up, I forced his lips into me and came against them, groaning, bucking my hips.

  Ryan let me jam all the way through my orgasm, then lifted me onto his lap and slid inside me in one swift motion.

  I couldn’t put my legs on either side of the chair, but it didn’t matter. He had me. He gripped my hips and lifted me up and down, up and down, filling me up as he had before. That motion that I loved, and the fullness I’d never get used to.

  I checked the door, hazy eyed, but it was still closed. If anyone walked past now, they’d hear the wet slap of our flesh, but I didn’t care. I needed him like I needed air.

  I kissed him and tasted myself. My pussy tightened around him, an involuntary clench driven by the sheer pleasure of having been eaten out.

  “You’re everything,” he said, and rammed me down again.

  My legs trembled, and I held onto his broad shoulders, meeting his gaze. “What?”

  “You’re everything, Chanel. You’re everything to me.”

  Oh God, what did that even me? Did it mean he actually loved me? Or was this part of a game to him? I didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking. But he didn’t have anything to gain by lying about his feelings, so why would he?

  “Look at me,” he said, and left me on his dick. He throbbed inside me. “Look at me, Chanel.”

  I did as I was told, swallowed whole by his soulful stare. “What is it?” I whispered, hoarse from emotion.

  “I’m falling for you.”

  “Ryan!”

  He kissed me before I could lodge another complaint. I circled my hips slow, moving with him and a deep burn of pleasure blazed between us. I breathed into his mouth, held his cheeks, worked myself back and forth.

  “Get off,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You said you wanted to taste me.” Ryan grunted the words out. “Gonna come.”

  I scrambled out of his lap and down onto my knees again, quickly taking him into my mouth again and sucked. He thickened beneath my grip and between my lips. Impossibly large. So big I could barely get past that ridge of pleasure.

  Ryan growled, and pulled my hair, plunged me onto his dick as far as I could go, then released into my mouth. His cum tasted good, slightly salty but clean, and I swallowed as much of it as I could. More and more came, and it leaked out of the corners of my mouth, dribbling down my chin.

  Finally, he pulled back, cock still throbbing, but spent. “Shit, you’ve got – uh, wait a second,” he said, and opened a drawer. He handed me a handkerchief. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed and cleaned myself off, then handed it back.

  He laughed and stuck it in the wastepaper basket. “Don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.” He held out a hand and helped me to stand. I wobbled like I’d never used my legs before.

  I moved around to the chair in front of his desk and plonked down, worked my skirt back over my thighs and covered all the important bits. “That was amazing.”

  Ryan tucked himself away and zipped up.

  “Did you – did you mean that? What you said during? That you –”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m falling for you. I don’t want to, but I am.”

  “Wow, you don’t want to?”

  “No,” he said. “I – listen, Chanel, I’ve been through too much for you to handle. I lost people and I don’t want to lose again.”

  “Who says you’re going to lose me?” I asked, and my heart pounded against the inside of my chest, this time because I couldn’t believe he’d admitted any of this to me. This was some kinda pillow talk, minus the pillows, of course.

  “I can’t see a clear path forward with everything that’s going on,” he said. “Commander Shepherd is coming and it’s not just for your presentation. He wants what happened resolved, and if I don’t step up to the plate and help him figure out what happened, I – shit, I don’t want to think about what it means for the future.”

  I wrung my hands. I couldn’t keep the nerves at bay. “The future.”

  “Yes. I’ve dedicated my entire life to the Navy. I’ve risen through the ranks because of it, but I don’t know what’s going to happen. Jack has tainted everything.”

  “It’s my fault. If we’d never met everything would be fine.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Ryan replied. “And if we hadn’t met I wouldn’t be this happy.”

  My cheeks heated. He was happy. God, what was I, twelve? This was like the first crush I’d ever had, and it was definitely the first love. I prayed it would be the last.

  Could I picture myself with him? Married to him? Yes, but I doubted that was what he wanted to talk or even think about.

  “Thank you,” I said, “for everything.”

  “Are you kidding? Thank you.” His grin brimmed with unadulterated joy. He’d never smiled like that before. It was as if that wall he constructed collapsed, for just a moment, and I could see all the way to his soul, to who he really was.

  I loved him. But how would this end? I had to believe that it would work out, that Timothy would recover, and Commander Shepherd would approve the plans for the base.

  “Everything will work out,” I said, out loud.

  The smile disappeared instantly. “Maybe,” Ryan said, “but I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve spoken with the Commander.”

  “What time is he due to arrive?”

  Hurried knocks rattled Ryan’s office door.

  “Yes?”

  Petty Officer Jameson entered the room, neat strides and boots polished. “Sir, sorry, am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all,” Ryan said. “What’s the
problem, officer?”

  Thank God she hadn’t arrived five minutes ago. She definitely would’ve been interrupting then.

  “I’ve received word that Commander Shepherd has just landed on the helipad, Sir.”

  My mouth went dry. “He’s here already? How? What?”

  “Excuse me, Miss Scott. We’ll have to continue this discussion at a later date,” Ryan said, and stood up, fists clenched.

  By some miracle, the front of his uniform wasn’t stained with our juices. He marched to the window and threw it open.

  The tuk-tuk of a helicopter’s blades slicing air filtered in from outside.

  “Thank you for your time, Lieutenant Commander. Good afternoon, Petty Officer Jameson,” I said, and rose from my seat. I nodded to them both then headed out of the door, nerves replacing the mushy happiness that had sprung up when Ryan admitted his feelings for me.

  Commander Shepherd had arrived. I’d be called to present him my ideas soon, and my future as an interior decorator would ride on that. If I failed, mom would close the store, if I succeeded, I’d have a military contract that might end up launching my career.

  And in the middle stood Ryan, neither available nor out of reach.

  Why did life have to be this confusing?

  Chapter 26

  Ryan

  Commander Shepherd was bald, tall, and walked like he owned everything and everyone in his path. He strode down the hall with me, as straight up and down as a street lamp, if street lamps had muscles and the power to end my career.

  “This way, Sir,” I said, and turned into the corridor leading up to my office. My heart couldn’t beat any fast, my mind couldn’t handle what I was sure was about to happen.

  “I see what you mean about this place,” Shepherd said. “It’s gray. Every inch of it is gray.”

  “That’s right, Sir. I think you’ll be very pleased when you meet our interior decorator. She’s got some plans that I think you’ll appreciate.”

  “One problem at a time, Baker. First, we have to discuss our course of action moving forward.”

  I beckoned Jameson, who’d positioned herself outside my office door to await our arrival – just in case she was needed. “Would you like some refreshments, Sir?”

  “Coffee,” Commander Shepherd replied, “as hot and black as you can make it.”

  “Same for me,” I said, to Jameson.

  The Petty Officer pushed off from the wall and rushed to follow the instruction. And then we were alone, me and my future.

  I held the door open for the Commander, and he swept past me, owning the room and everything in it as well. He didn’t sit down in the chair in front of my desk, instead, he swept around to my leather backed seat and took his place in it, then gestured for me to sit down too.

  I did as he commanded, and Shepherd drew a Cuban out of his top pocket and a cigar cutter with it. He didn’t offer me anything, of course. “No ash tray?” he asked, and studied my clutter-free desk with disdain.

  “No, Sir. I don’t smoke.”

  “Pity,” Shepherd replied.

  Jameson chose that moment to return with an entire pot of freshly brewed coffee and two clean mugs. She brought cream and sugar too, bless her, since I hadn’t asked for it.

  “Got an ash tray on this base?” Shepherd asked her.

  “Yes, Sir. I’ll retrieve one for you.” Jameson hurried out again, leaving a wake of controlled panic behind her. Everyone at the base wanted to know what would become of them, and of me. I was pretty sure my Petty Officers didn’t want to see me in prison.

  We waited for Jameson’s return in silence, and I tracked the movement of clouds in the azure sky outside the window. It was a perfect day, for once. The gray bank had cleared to reveal the beauty of the mountain beneath it. Light glinted off the polished trucks, and the water had all but dried on the concrete, leaving only little puddles and wet tracks from soldiers boots to and from them.

  Shepherd didn’t admire the view. He tapped the end of his cigar on my desk and stared at me. I didn’t dare ask him what was on his mind. He’d tell me when he was good and ready.

  Finally, Jameson reappeared with an ash tray and placed it on the desk in front of the Commander. “Here you are, Sir.”

  “Thank you. Dismissed.”

  She saluted, then exited the office and closed the door behind herself.

  Plunged into silence again, but this time disturbed by Shepherd’s cigar cutter and the frantic thoughts that screamed through my mind. Questions that didn’t have answers yet. Fuck, I had to calm down.

  Shepherd finally lit up and puffed acrid cigar smoke into the space above his head. I longed to open my windows again and let it out, but that would only fast-track my demise.

  “Is everything on this base made out of metal?” he asked, and moved the tin ash tray closer.

  I gave a feeble smile. “As I said, we’re working on that, Sir.”

  “Let’s talk, Baker.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve got to tell you, I don’t appreciate having to come down here, having to cut short my plans to check on a base I thought I left in good hands.”

  “It is in good hands, Sir.”

  Shepherd let fly another cloud of smoke. “Yes, well, that was what I thought until this incident with the boy.”

  “He was a young man,” I replied.

  “Baker, I don’t care if he was a senior citizen in a tiara and ballerina’s tutu,” Shepherd snapped, “he’s in hospital thanks to your lack of control over the operations of this base.”

  I sagged under the weight of the accusation. I thought I had everything under control. “Sir, apart from this one small incident, nothing has gone wrong.”

  “Small incident? Why don’t you call this Meller’s parents and convince them that their son in a coma is a small incident. I’m sure that will go down well,” Shepherd replied, and balanced his cigar on the edge of the ash tray.

  “That wasn’t what I meant, Sir.”

  Shepherd waved that away. “I trusted you, Baker. No one else would touch you after Mission Hubert. They thought you were damaged goods, that the PTSD had addled your decision-making process.”

  My jaw dropped. “What?”

  “Of course, no one would say that out loud, but that’s the general attitude they had toward you,” Shepherd continued, “but not me. I gave you a shot. I wanted you to prove that you were more than a collection of bad memories. Apart from Hubert, your record is flawless. Stunning.”

  “I know,” I said, and balled my hands into fists in my lap. This was worse than I thought. “Sir, this wasn’t something I could control. Whitmore went missing while we were in Meek Springs to fetch supplies.”

  “Two questions,” Shepherd said, “where were you when he went missing? And why were you with him on a supply run?”

  “Sir, I – we were in the local bar. Trapped because of a storm. And I went with him because –”

  “You wanted to have a good time?”

  “No! I’m not like that, Sir. I’m dedicated to my men. I went to fetch a few items of a delicate nature with which I didn’t trust Whitmore.”

  “Then why was Whitmore in charge of a supply run?” Shepherd asked, and picked up the cigar again. He rolled it between his fingers. “If you didn’t trust him.”

  “He – I – Sir, it’s not that I didn’t trust him in general, it was just that these were specific items requested by the interior decorator on the base. Requested directly from me.”

  “So? You’re the commanding officer here. Why would you go yourself?” Shepherd asked, and narrowed his eyes at me.

  “Because I had my suspicions about Whitmore prior to this trip, but I didn’t have enough evidence to act on them. I believed that he was envious of my position at the base and wanted to discredit me. He also expressed ill will toward the operation to revamp the base’s interior and believed it to be a waste of time.” I took a deep breath. I couldn’t let on how I felt about Chanel. Whitmo
re would certainly blab that part to the Commander as soon as he got the opportunity. “I was concerned that he’d attempt to sabotage her work.”

  Shepherd puffed on the cigar and studied me through a curtain of smoke. “The situation would’ve been better controlled if you’d swapped him out on the roster for someone else.”

  “I understand, Sir. Hindsight is 20-20.”

  “I agree on that point,” Shepherd replied, and killed the cigar in the ash tray this time. “I believe this was a slip up. I believe that Whitmore is probably out of control and your suspicions were likely correct, but that you made a series of ill choices leading up to this point.”

  “Sir, you’re not suggesting that I could’ve stopped Whitmore from –”

  “This isn’t a debate, Baker.” Shepherd sniffed, then brushed his fingertips along the edges of the desk. Finally, he halted at the corners, then placed his elbows on the surface. “I’ve made my decision.”

  “Regarding what, Sir?”

  “Your position on this base. Your station as Lieutenant Commander.”

  I held my breath.

  “I don’t believe you were prepared for this responsibility. You’re more than capable physically, mentally, but emotionally? I believe this was too much for you and your judgment has been clouded. I’m well aware that Whitmore was your friend. I believe you went easier on him than you could have.”

  I listened intently, still unable to breathe or move. Christ, was this the end for me?

  “I’m going to have you reassigned to another base. Hawaii, most likely. You’ll be taken back down to the rank of Petty Officer until you’ve shown that you’re ready to progress.”

  The room swayed, the walls curved inward. This couldn’t be happening. I’d worked damn hard to keep this base running smoothly, to provide for everyone here.

  “It will do you good, and it will ensure that the people in town realize that action is being taken up here.”

  “Sir, if you want to take action throw Whitmore in prison. He’s the one who did this.”

  “As I said, this is not a debate, Baker.” Shepherd’s pitying gaze hardened up. “I want you to be evaluated again, as well. And after that, you’re going to see a psychologist weekly. Once you’re in Hawaii.”