by Leslie North
Owned by the Navy Seal
Cringing inwardly, Rita smiled politely as her date continued to talk animatedly. Looking around the rapidly filling pub, she wished she wore a watch and wondered if she could check her cell phone without seeming too obvious. She was on yet another family-member sponsored blind date and she desperately wished that her family had a better idea of the type of person she found attractive. The shiny, corporate type wearing copious amounts of hair and face products and sporting a high-priced suit would never show up on her radar. Yet, here she sat. Again. Smiling politely as he droned on and on about banking and acquisitions. She wondered how many low-income homes he’d gleefully foreclosed on as he bragged about his most recent bonus check. That amount of money could help fix up seven, no eight, low-income senior homes. As the director for the San Diego branch of a nonprofit dedicated to fixing up homes sustainably for those in need, Rita enjoyed her job. The branch office was attached to a fifth wheel, and she liked interacting with the volunteers. Working on site during reconstruction saved time. And while her date extoled the virtues of foreclosures, she made a mental list of the things she needed to do tomorrow and wished again for a clock.
At 25, Rita was no stranger to the corporate world. While she had relished her dual liberal arts degrees in English and Philosophy, she had sucked it up and gone on to get an MBA to appease her parents. She had spent five years working in a corporate environment before she met her husband-to-be. All of that seemed so long ago. She had spent 10 long years in a marriage that she regretted. Granted things were great in the beginning and the sex…well the sex was fantastic. But all that ground to a halt once the ring was on and she was moved in. Gone were the long, lazy afternoons spent cuddling and talking about the future. In its place were long hours spent waiting. Waiting for her husband to tell her what he wanted. Waiting for her husband to make a decision. Waiting for her husband to want her. She couldn’t stand how claustrophobic she felt in her marriage, or that they had stayed together longer than they should have due to financial problems. At least we didn’t have children, thought Rita. The dogs were difficult enough and she still bristled when Tuck wanted to come visit her black Lab, Casey. When the arguing was fierce, Casey would lay tight against her, as if to say, I got you mom. Rita shivered when she remembered the night Tuck tried to kick Casey. Her ex had been in a particularly foul mood and Casey stepped between them as Tuck was about to slap her. Furious, he swung his leg back to kick Casey, but Rita had pulled her away shouting, “Pick on someone your own size!”
Shaking her head, Rita pulled herself away from her thoughts of the past to hear, “…compounded his previous ruptured, herniated lower back.” Turning her head, she looked at her date. And he was looking at her expectantly.
Crap! He’s expecting me to say something. What was he talking about? Nodding her head, Rita mumbled something vague about going to the bathroom and got up from the booth. Wobbling a bit on high heels and trying not to pull her skirt down as far as she could, Rita attempted a dignified walk to the bathroom. Pushing the door open, she sighed in relief. The bathroom was empty. Limping to the sink, she clutched the counter, enjoying the coolness as it slowly crept up her arms. Closing her eyes, she wished that she hadn’t agreed to another blind date, but she felt like she owed it to her sister. After all, Tessa had taken her in. Gave her a place to live when she had no place to go. She even tried to be supportive when Rita would talk about her marriage to Tuck. But her sister didn’t understand. Marital bliss had claimed her 25 years ago and the two of them seemed to balance each other as they worked together raising four children. Rita was envious of their relationship at times. They never seemed to argue and life seemed to fall continually in place for them. While Rita had been in two long-term relationships in her adult life, both had their moments of strife, which made for terrific make-up sex. Smirking, Rita couldn’t picture her favorite sibling and spouse having terrific sex. Obviously, they had sex, at least on four separate occasions, but the kind of fiery passion that Rita thrived on, she doubted it.
She was finished with these dates. She was putting her foot down. Her very pained foot that had been crammed into uncomfortable shoes because her niece said they made her look sexy. She wished desperately for a pair of comfortable boots and her favorite cargo shorts. Suck it up, woman! It’s almost over. Then you can go home, take a hot shower and curl up with your favorite battery-operated friend.
Looking in the mirror one last time, Rita pulled open the bathroom door and stepped back out into the noisy pub. Catching her heel, Rita grabbed for the pinball machine outside the bathrooms to keep from falling. Muttering, “I am so chopping these shoes up into tiny pieces and burning them.”
“Now, why would you want to do that?” rumbled a voice.
“Because I was never meant to walk in heels,” shot back Rita in frustration.
A firm hand gripped her elbow to steady her as she stepped away from the pinball machine. Looking up. And up. Rita looked into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Swallowing, she was about to thank him when he leaned in. “Keep the shoes. They look beautiful on you. They’ll look even better when you are naked and lying on your back.” Flustered, Rita quickly turned crimson as a blush crept up her face. Chuckling, he gave her elbow a squeeze before stepping away to return to his table.
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Jared was sitting with his date enjoying nut-brown ale. This one hinted of chocolate and citrus. Creamy and tangy. The right amber color with a hint of cloudiness. He used to love brewing beer with his brother and cousins. Raiding his mom’s kitchen garden, they would experiment with different ingredients. Some of them were complete disasters, but he did develop a taste for good beer. Downing the last of his pint, he waved the empty glass at his server signaling for another. He only wished his date were as engaging as his beer. Chatting on and on about some reality TV show, Jared wished he hadn’t agreed to meet for drinks. But there he was. Listening to the problems of some TV family that had nothing to do with him or his date. Jared didn’t own a television and he didn’t have a clue who any of these people were, but here she was talking about them as if they lived next door. Jared couldn’t understand how anyone could be so passionate about these people, they sounded completely superficial. He hoped the sex would be better than the talking.
Having spent the better part of 20 years in the service, Jared was released on medical discharge after crushing his ankle in a zero-sight drop from 30,000 feet. He missed the military and he missed his fellow Navy Seals. Three years out of failed marriage number two, it was times like this that Jared missed that sense of order he had in the military. Yes, his job was dangerous and his inability to talk about his work doomed both his marriages, but this? This was too much.
Looking around the room, Jared spied a woman who looked equally as miserable. Watching her, he could see the play of emotions across her face as she attempted to pay attention to whatever her table companion was talking about. It didn’t seem to last as she would scan the room at times in desperation. Looking for something. Rolling his latest pint between his hands, he watched her. She didn’t appear to be his type. He liked small, fragile-looking women who knew how to dress to please. This one, well, to quote his granddad, she looked to be of Irish peasant stock. Good for breeding. Not much else. Her hair was a riotous mess reminiscent of the Blackhills at sunrise and she clearly wasn’t wearing any makeup. Smiling to himself, he guessed her to be a schoolteacher. A school marm as granddad would say.
But there was something about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, yet he couldn’t stop staring. She seemed to be the only real person in the room. Grabbing his beer, he inclined his head as he watched her get up from her booth and walk toward the can, which would
take her past his table. Pretending to pay attention to his date, he watched her walk. Her ankles wobbled, but she was someone who walked with purpose. Jared liked that. Excusing himself, he headed to the can. He pretended to check for messages while he waited for her. He could hear her grumbling and talking to herself and he couldn’t help smiling. The amount of profanity he was hearing would rival some mess halls. The door flung open as she spilled out. Catching herself, he smiled when he heard her grouse. Oh, this one is feisty. Maybe she was his type after all.
###
Returning to her table, Rita looked around for the owner of that voice. His rumble went straight to her nether region as she thought about how long it had been since she had sex with a human. The last two years of her marriage to Tuck was spent in separate bedrooms and she’d been back in San Diego for the past year. Too long, she thought. Spying him, she looked him over. Blond hair, crew cut, cut muscles. Oh, he was yummy looking. She caught a glimpse of tattoos peeking out from his shirtsleeves as she wondered how many he had. Yes, this one was definitely her type. And that voice. It was rare that someone could affect her that quickly and usually it involved some heavy petting and making out. But this one, those few words raised the hairs on her arms and those eyes…she could get lost in those eyes. Smirking, she contemplated getting into more than one spat with him just for the make-up sex. All hands and mouth. Looking up, she flushed as he caught her watching him. Turning her head, she looked at Mike who was back talking about foreclosures. Had he even noticed that she left the table?
As the evening finally drew to a close, Rita walked out of the pub to say her goodbyes to Mike. She smiled politely as she listened to him ask about seeing her again and gave a noncommittal response as she mumbled something about checking her schedule. As she headed to her car, she spotted The Voice as he walked his date to his truck. She was tiny and perfect. He had his hand casually at the small of her back and she seemed to fit perfectly along his side. She was dressed to the nines in a form-fitting dress Rita would never consider wearing and her make-up was impeccable. Disappointment punched her as she realized that she wasn’t The Voice’s type. As she opened her car door, she looked up. He had placed his date in the truck and was watching her from the driver’s side. His intensity rolled across the parking lot. Smiling slightly in a way that looked more like a grimace, Rita dove for the safety of her car narrowly missing giving herself a concussion on the doorframe. Taking a deep breath, she clutched the steering wheel. Slowly exhaling, she started the car, happy at least to have a new fantasy to take to bed with her. Oh, he might be good for several nights.
###
Two weeks later, Rita was supposed to meet her best friend, Keanie, for lunch and shopping. Her friend had driven down from LA for the weekend, and she was looking forward to spending time with her, as she hadn’t seen her since she moved back to San Diego. When Rita first moved into her husband’s condo located in a small bedroom community in West LA, the two women discovered that they had more in common than being simply neighbors, and quickly became fast friends. Most afternoons they could be found deep in discussion as their dogs chased each other around. Rita missed her friend. They still talked online and by phone, but it wasn’t the same. Keanie was one of the most vibrant people she knew and even on her bad days, she always lifted Rita’s spirits. Boy could she drink. Whatever her current cocktail fascination, she could easily put away three without as much as a hiccup; something Rita could never understand as Keanie was the size of a pixie. Rita maxed out at one alcoholic drink and on the occasions she did try to keep up with her friend, she regretted it. One of the downsides to getting old, hangovers were that much worse.
Keanie called to say she was stuck in traffic and would be at least an hour late. By the time she reached Rita to tell her about the highway construction, Rita was parking her car so she decided to shop while she waited. Wandering around the department store to waste time, Rita found herself in the men’s fragrance department. It must have been when The Voice grabbed her elbow to steady her, but Rita had picked up the scent of a men’s cologne that she had yet to identify. It stayed with her on the drive home and added to her horniness. Since then, she’d been trying to figure it out, as she wanted to pick up a bottle for herself. Not that she would wear it, but a few well-placed drops here and there would add to the fantasy. She remembered the smell of citrus and something woodsy with some other scents mixed in. She wanted more. Well, she wanted to smell it on him. On his neck as she licked his sensitive spots and then more as she trailed kisses down his chest. Lathing each nipple until they formed into stiff peaks of pleasure. She loved the power she had when she could take her time worshiping a body. Each kiss. Each touch. Every reaction, no matter how small was intoxicating information as she memorized the locations of those pleasure spots. She imagined a trail of hair from his chest, down tight abs made for touching and kissing. Her long hair would tease and tickle as she slowly worked her way down his body. Kissing. Touching. Licking. The power of touch left Rita heady with desire at times.
She sighed as she picked up another fragrance. The Voice rumbled against her hair as he said, “I prefer Pour Homme.” Her hand knocked over two bottles as her knees came crashing into the glass case. Swearing loudly, she started to turn, but his chest was flush with her back as his arms came around to pin her to the display case. Blowing gently to move her hair away from her ear, he whispered, “Come with me.” Taking her hand, he tugged her toward the men’s dressing rooms. Waving at the salesman who tossed him a quick salute, Jared dragged Rita into one of the stalls, shutting and locking the door.
Before she could speak, he had walked her to the back wall. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled them tight above her head as he kissed her lightly on the lips. Smiling, he licked her lips, slowly tracing around her mouth. As her lips parted in a soft gasp, he took advantage. Pressing against her, he plundered her mouth. Too surprised to respond, she sucked in a breath as he sucked hard against her tongue. Moaning, she was grateful he was holding her up; as she was sure, her legs would have collapsed by now. Sliding his left hand up to the side of her throat, he cupped her neck as he tilted her head back farther. Rita wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer, but attempts to pull free had him tightening his hold. Stepping closer, he placed his knee between her legs and lifted her onto his thigh. Moaning, Rita ground herself against his leg as tingles of pleasure woke her long slumber.
Chuckling, his voice rumbled, deep in his chest, as it vibrated in her body making her toes curl. Biting her lower lip, he turned her to the wall, holding her wrists prisoner as he leaned into her. Moving her hair off her neck, he inhaled deeply as he dipped his nose behind her ear. Nibbling gently down her neck, he bit down harder. Moaning, Rita arched against him, pressing her ass firmly against his erection. His right hand came around front as his palm pressed firmly against her lower abdomen, pushing her farther into him. Groaning, Rita exposed her neck, giving him more access. She was so turned on; she would let him do anything he wanted. She so desperately needed this.
Releasing her wrists, he placed both of her palms to the wall. “Be a good girl. Don’t move them.” Rita pushed her hands to the wall as she moved her hips back and forth, rubbing against his erection. She made small mewling noises in frustration when he stilled her. Sliding his hands down both sides of her body, he paused to cup her breasts. Rubbing his fingers in maddening circles as her nipples grew quickly to stiff, aching peaks. As his hands slid down her body, Rita felt her pussy drench. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this turned on. If ever. Pushing her forehead against the wall, she realized he had pushed her against the mirror. Looking at herself, she was surprised to see the wanton lust on her face. Her chest was flush with desire as she panted. Looking down, she watched his hands, mesmerized as he slowly slid down her body. She thought she would cum as his thumbs made lazy circles up the inside of her legs. Higher and higher. Thumbs traced around the leg bands on her panties as his fingers rubbed agai
nst her mound. He chuckled deeply when his fingers discovered how wet she was.
“At least I don’t have to ask if you’re enjoying yourself,” Jared said as he kissed the back of her leg with feather-light touches. Moaning, Rita pushed harder against the mirror as she spread her legs wider. That earned her a nip on the ass as he raised her skirt to her waist. Grabbing the waistband of her panties, he drew them slowly down, kissing a fiery path as he went. Sliding them all the way down, he tapped each foot as she submissively complied and raised each one so he could remove her panties. Sliding slowly back up her body, Jared watched her in the mirror aware of every nuance.
Moving his hand to her mound with practiced ease, he nipped at her neck when he found her shaved. Rita almost came when he whispered against her ear, “Good girl. I like it when a woman is clean-shaven.” Moaning, she almost dropped her hands as he cupped her, dipping one finger deep inside. Slowly drawing it out, he brought it to her lips. It glistened with her arousal. Tracing his finger around her lips, she parted them. He stuck his finger in her mouth. “Clean it.”
Rita nipped the tip of his finger before slowly drawing it into her mouth. She sucked hard as she swirled her tongue. She made a satisfied noise when she heard his intake of breath and felt his erection grow. Jared quickly stepped back and planted his hand against her back forcing her upper body forward and her ass back. Before she knew what was happening, he had delivered two quick swats to her ass before grabbing her and pulling her back against him. “That’s for being smug,” he muttered. “I’m going to really enjoy this.”