by Rowena
He has a dominating aura, and it makes me feel submissive and suggestive to his will, and, as a result, it leaves me open. Most guys I date can’t get close to really reaching me and making me care, but Jake—Jake has always been close, and he is the only guy I’ve met with the ability to get even closer.
My heart’s in my throat practically the whole time he’s away and when I know he’s coming home, nothing takes me higher than the thought of that—except for actually seeing him. Then even that’s surpassed by the moment we touch, and his muscular arms wrap around my body, squeezing me in an affectionate hold. I love the feeling of being pressed against his firm chest.
That’s as far as we usually go, whether it’s hello or goodbye—we don’t do the kiss on the cheek thing like a lot of friends and family do.
Today, however, as we embraced among the airport crowd, his lips met my cheek before we pulled away.
I felt the tingle of contact long after we drove off, and at the moment, I didn’t return it—I was too busy trying to hide all signs of the joy that kiss brought me.
Considering our bond, that small act is no big deal—simply an expression of affection and appreciation like any other.
But, to be honest, I sense something different about him this time, and it scares me a little.
I’ve never been afraid of him before, and I have always respected the path he took and the way he puts his life on the line on behalf of our country, but despite knowing he’s a soldier who probably has at least a few deaths under belt, I have never felt in danger when around him—violence is reserved for whoever the government has declared the enemy and sent him after.
But the moment his lips met my cheek, my spidey sense started tingling.
I feel stupid, of course, because how could he possibly be a danger to me? Maybe if he finally has some kind of psychotic break and loses it and snaps my neck in some sort of PTSD reaction or something, but I’m not worried about that.
While he might not be completely stable as a result of his experiences, my gut insists it is not my life that’s in danger.
III.
JAKE
I try to ignore the way my heart drops when Gina’s car is finally out of sight, then I turn my attention to my condo.
Since I’m out of town for such long periods, I rent it out, and luckily, I have a dependable, trustworthy friend who helps me take care of the details and acts as a bridge between me and the temporary tenant: Gina.
Gina eases tenants in and out and takes care of details relating to deposits and cleanup. Of course, I pay her a fraction of the rental payments for sort of acting as a landlord on my behalf.
So far, over three years and four tenants, nothing major has been broken or stolen, and there’s been only one fight over a deposit.
We’re pretty careful about who we let stay here, and I’m relieved to see my place has no signs of having been trashed in my absence yet again.
Sure, Gina would have told me if a paint job was needed or about missing or broken items, but it looks like everything went smoothly, and Gina has had someone come in and do a thorough cleaning, which I send her money to do—I like the place to not only look neat and spotless, but smell like a Pine Sol flood passed through.
I drop my bag in my bedroom and continue to inspect the place, and I am more than pleased with what I see.
I don’t know what I’d do without her; Gina is truly a gem.
Satisfied, I take a long, hot shower and work on just blanking my mind, concentrating on how good it feels to have the spray on my skin.
I’m going to arrange a full body massage, then start calling around and making plans to see various friends so I can get into acting like a normal human again—hit up some bars, eat some pizza and watch a crappy movie. Pretend like I care about so-and-so’s new job or baby. And once I’ve got all of that rolling, I’ll do what I long to do most: contact Gina and arrange to see her again as soon as possible.
I’ll leave her alone for the rest of today, and maybe even tomorrow, if I can stand it.
I wake up from a nightmare, and immediately look over as if expecting to see Gina in bed next to me.
I wish she was so I could hold her and ease myself back to sleep, and I have to stop myself from dialing her just so I can hear her voice, even if to hear her say, annoyed, “What are you, crazy? It’s four a.m.!”
I’m not sure if she’d actually say that—she’d probably get concerned and think something’s wrong and that she needs to help me.
“What do you need?” she’d probably say. “I’ll be right over.”
It’s too easy, really—she’ll willingly walk right into any trap I set for her.
She has no reason to suspect I’d be up to no good, and she cares so much for me. She wants to make sure I have what I need—even if it’s just an ear in the middle of the night.
She has that look in her eyes sometimes that I see in other people’s eyes—that awkward sympathy about my line of work. Most people don’t really think about what I actually go through and sort of dutifully thank me for my service.
I guess I know I can call her right now and not piss her off, but I don’t want to do that to her—she deserves at least one more night of obliviously thinking of me as just an old friend, wrapped in the comfort of knowing she has been living her life on her own terms before I impose my plans on her.
When my eyes open again and I realize it is morning, I know I can’t wait another day to see Gina.
Torture returned to me in my next set of dreams, but that time, torture came in the form of her.
I can’t take it any longer—I must have her body against mine. I must claim Gina once and for all.
I know she likes to sleep in sometimes, so I wait until after ten a.m. to call her.
“What are you up to today?” I ask as she answers.
“I didn’t really make solid plans since I know you’ll want me to squeeze you in here and there over the next week or so.”
I have to stifle a laugh because she has no idea how right she is, how literal those words will become.
My cock is already twitching in anticipation.
“Come on down, then! We’ll figure out something. I owe you lunch at least for looking after my place.”
“You know I can’t resist free food! Okay, I’ll head over in about an hour; I’m not hungry right now, but you can feed me later. In the meantime, I want to show you this new Netflix series…”
I let her blab on while I savor the emotions churning in me, steadily increasing in power: affection, joy and desire—all aimed at Gina, like my cock will soon be.
It is thickening now as I think about the chance I’ll soon have to push it between her boobs, to have her luscious mouth close over it.
I think about the relief I’ll feel once I finally slide it in her and start pushing it against the sweet pussy lips I’ve only dreamt of.
My cock grows painfully harder as I imagine her moaning in my ear, my body pressing against hers while she holds on to me in the most intimate hug, my dick exploring the warm cavern of her body as I bring us both to the ultimate pleasure.
Finally, I will shoot my seed into her, squirting my cum at her uterus in hopes that I take root in her, my fertilizing fluid following its natural course and leaving a part of me behind to grow inside of her over the next several months.
I will take Gina again and again until I am sure she is full of my seed, and she is bound to me in more ways than one.
My dear friend is doomed.
IV.
GINA
I am far too excited when I receive Jake’s call to come over.
This must be what people in real romantic relationships feel, and I can see why people are addicted to the whole thing; it makes you feel alive.
I haven’t felt this kind of emotional dependence and excitement for a person outside of my friendship with Jake, and I long to feel that type of passion with the person I’m dating or in an actual relationship with, but I also
like my individual freedom, and not having to worry about how my actions will affect anyone but myself, so I find it fairly easy to keep an emotional distance.
I like being able to change jobs whenever I want with no real responsibility weighing on me, and I like not having my life determined by emotions connecting me to some other human being.
I like that I won’t lose my mind if the guy I’m dating forgets to call, and that none of the dudes I’ve met so far can talk me into doing something that will probably only ultimately benefit him: moving a few states away on account of his new job or school, or changing some other plan of mine to accommodate him; I’ve seen way too many chicks rearrange their lives for some dude not even guaranteed to stick around: delaying continuing education or getting rid of friendships—with males and females—as a result of trying to give more to him, and of course, guys never do the same.
Not fucking me.
The only guy who twists my heart when it’s been too long since I’ve heard from him is Jake, and I’ve learned to control that yearning for the most part. I like that, because of his periods of physical distance, I’m safe from the potential devastation he could cause if we were anything more than friends.
When I pull up to Jake’s place, however, something doesn’t feel right, and I start to get worried. I know I shouldn’t be, but I don’t want to ignore the feeling either.
I consider texting him that something has come up and then taking off, but I immediately feel bad for considering doing that to my old friend—he needs company and wants to hang out as usual and here I am, thinking about abandoning him at a time he might be most vulnerable.
I shake my head as if I can shake sense into myself that way.
Perhaps the problem is that my heart feels like it’s about to be opened to him in a way it hasn’t been before—like I’m on the verge of suddenly falling for him. I definitely feel like I’m on the edge of some cliff.
Before I can actually change my mind and speed out of there, Jake comes outside with a smile and a wave, and there’s no way I can turn my back on him now.
I leave the car, wondering why the strange feeling still hasn’t left me in the face of his sunshine.
We embrace quickly, then I follow him inside.
“So glad you could make it,” he says. “Had a nightmare last night and figured I could use some distractions.”
Immediately, my unease lifts.
“Glad I can help,” I say with a genuine smile.
“Water? Orange juice?” he offers, heading to the kitchen.
“Carrot juice,” I say, knowing it’s in his refrigerator because I bought it, along with the other groceries his cupboards and refrigerator are now loaded with. I usually take care of that once the cleaning lady’s done. Ever since the first time I bought him a few things so his kitchen wasn’t completely empty when he returned, he makes sure to send me extra money to cover costs in case I do it again—which I always do. He sends me far more money than I need, so he ends up a little more stocked than that first time.
We shoot the breeze for a bit, and it takes me a while, but I eventually notice something: Jake’s eyes haven’t left me in the past few minutes, and the intensity of his concentrated gaze is starting to disturb me.
I am reminded of the feeling I had when I first pulled up, then remember even further back to yesterday when he kissed me on the cheek.
I stare back at him for a moment, but he still doesn’t break his gaze, and my sense of dread grows.
I feel stalked so I try to shake him off with a snap of my fingers and a light: “Hello! Earth to Jake!”
I smile as wide as I can manage.
Jake doesn’t smile back or play along with my pretense that everything’s still fairly normal.
It is clear that something in the air has changed.
My heart starts beating even harder against my chest as fear surges through me.
The only man I’ve ever known with the power to bend me and change the course of my life by me giving in to his will is looking me with something I didn’t expect, wasn’t prepared for in the least.
I can no longer pretend to misinterpret the look in Jake’s eyes—he looks like an animal about to pounce.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I finally say softly, though I already know the answer. Guess I’m still hoping he proves me wrong.
“You know why,” he says, still staring me down.
My legs feel like they have been turned to jelly.
I try to keep my voice light and steady. “I asked, didn’t I? So I guess I don’t know.”
His eyes finally leave my face to travel down my body in a deliberately slow manner, reaching my chest and lingering on my breasts before traveling the rest of the way down.
I suddenly feel like I’m on fire as blood rushes to the surface of every part of me.
His eyes return to my face.
“You still don’t know?” he says, his voice deep.
“You can’t have me,” I say quickly in an embarrassingly pitiful voice.
I swear I meant it to come out strong and sure, but my gut already knew what time it was, and I’m on the edge of that cliff again.
His mouth quirks a little, a twitch of a tiny, one-sided smile, but it’s not a real smile—it’s the shell of an imitation never reaching his steady blue eyes.
“You know that’s not true, Gina. I can have you, and I’m about to.”
He stands and starts coming toward me, clearly about to prove his words true, but…you know how, in dangerous situations, that fight or flight instinct kicks in? Well, without a single thought I go into flight mode and begin to run.
For some reason, I decide to run toward the back of the condo, instead of trying to get out of the front door.
Maybe some part of me suspected Jake would anticipate that move and beat me there, blocking the door, and my chance to escape him would be gone.
Either way, I disappear through the first door I reach—his bedroom—and lock it quickly behind me.
It seems my unexpected move bought me enough time to lock it right before he reaches me—I beat him by about half a second and lean against the locked door, panting in partial relief.
He slams himself against the door.
“Let me in, Gina,” he says, then slams against the door again.
I know the door will give way to his muscular body soon—that hard, strong vessel strengthened further by adrenalin and mad desire.
“I’m calling for help!” I say, then pretend to call, since I left my phone on the living room coffee table. I hope he doesn’t realize it’s all a lie. “Please come quickly—he’s lost his mind!” I say.
“I haven’t lost my mind,” his muffled voice says from behind the door. “I’ve lost my patience.”
He slams against the door again.
I move away from it in preparation for it finally giving way.
There’s nothing else I can do—Jake will be in here with me soon.
I had hoped that pretending to make that call for help would make him think twice and deter him, that knowing someone else had been filled in on what he’s up to, and is possibly on the way here, would calm him down.
But I remember the way his blue eyes burned, the way my instincts kicked into high gear, warning me that my old friend was dangerously aroused and about to pounce.
I had bought little time with the door between us, and as I watch it finally fly open, part of me sinks, despite all the other elevated parts.
I am doomed.
“Hello,” Jake says calmly, as if he did not just break a door open.
I take a step back.
“Jake, please…”
“I want you, Gina,” he interrupts, taking a few steps forward and closing the distance between us, “and I’m going to finally have you. Do you have any idea how long…?”
It seems he has changed his mind about talking, for instead of finishing his sentence, he tears his shirt off instead.
My eyes
get stuck on his defined chest and abs before reminding myself that I need to come up with a plan B fast.
Then I get distracted by his sinewy, masculine beauty again.
“You’re not going to get away,” he says, “So don’t even fool yourself. Try to get past me and I’ll grab you—you know it. You have nowhere to go, Gina—nowhere but on that bed—and no choice but to take everything I have to give you.”
“Please, Jake…”
“I think I will,” he says. “I’ll do everything I can to please you, Gina, starting with this…”
He drops his pants and I’m pretty sure my eyes actually bulge at the sight of his hard, thick cock saluting me.
“God, I want to savor every moment of this,” he says. “Every smell, every taste. Too bad you called in reinforcements.” He has reached me and rips my top off easily. “Now I’ll have to rush, and if you try to resist me once more, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t soon forget it. I’m going to fuck you hard anyway—just not as hard as if you make me angrier.”
He starts undoing my jeans and I fruitlessly try to thwart his efforts, despite his threat.
“Relax,” he says as he unclasps, unzips and then pushes my jeans down.
I am standing there in my panties and bra and have never felt more vulnerable and helpless in my life.
“I’ll take care of you,” he says, then pushes me onto the bed.
Before I can recover he is over me and I am trapped beneath him, enduring his blue gaze on me.
His eyes follow the line of my shoulders, the swell of my breasts, and just as I think he’s about to rake his eyes down my torso, his mouth is suddenly on my neck and it makes me arch my back.
My skin is oversensitive, and the feel of soft lips and wet tongue there makes my body tingle furiously.
My center roars to life and he continues to suckle my neck, switching sides.
“Jake,” is all I say, and it comes out as a whimper.