When I hear those words I’m immediately taken back. He always called me that when he came around. It reminds me of all those times I thought about him. When I went to senior prom with some boy my age that my friend set me up with, but I secretly wished I were there with him. The big, strong guy who called me Brit Bit. Bit, because I was small.
And who isn’t smaller than him? And I do ever feel safe now…from the bad guys at least.
But there’s something about the way he hovers in that doorway that makes me feel not so safe. He exudes dominance and power without even trying. It’s alluring, but dangerous at the same time.
But there’s a different way that I don’t feel safe. I don’t feel safe to be alone with him. I don’t trust myself. I want to jump up out of this chair and into his arms. Those Popeye forearms and bulging biceps of his.
But it’s really his shoulders. They’re like two softballs, one on each side. I know he could catch me if I fell, and he wouldn’t even feel it. To him, I’m as light as a feather. He looks like he’s used to pressing three times my weight over his head.
But that’s the gym. I want the real thing. I want him grabbing me and tossing me around like a rag doll as he slides me up and down his pole. When he cums I look into his eyes and see that I’m everything. And when he tosses me around some more it’s like I’m nothing all over again.
The duality of it all is a huge turn-on. Plus completing a fantasy I’ve always harbored would be the ultimate rush.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m just still…processing everything,” I say. I conveniently leave out the part where I’m thinking about how I’m processing this situation right here and now, and not that situation from yesterday.
“Situations like these can definitely cause you to feel things you normally wouldn’t,” he says.
“I’m definitely feeling things,” I say. It’s no coincidence he’s a Marine, because I can feel the Sea of Galilee forming in my panties.
“I need to ask you some questions, but not here.”
“Okay.”
“Are you okay to leave right now?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Well, if you leave here with me I can get you through that media storm without any trouble.”
“Or?”
“If you wait you’ll have to deal with your co-workers, your boss, the media outside your building all day, phone calls, fake delivery men coming to your desk trying to get the scoop…you name ‘em, they’ll be looking for you.”
He’s offering me his personal protection. How can I say no? I just hope I’ll get to ride out of here on his back, but I’m not holding my breath.
“Now seems like a good time,” I say.
We walk outside the office door and turn the hall, but we’re not heading for the front doors.
“I thought we were leaving?”
“We are.”
“But the exit’s that way,” I say, looking towards the door.
“I brought my own ride,” he says.
This I’ve got to see.
CHAPTER 5
Sean
I splash cold water on my face and shake my head. I’ve got one hand on either side of the sink and I’m hunched over. I look up, seeing my reflection in the mirror.
I look like shit. It’s obvious. This girl is absolutely wrecking me.
It’s written all over my face. I can’t concentrate when she’s around, not that I’ve been able to concentrate on anything since I first saw her yesterday.
The attack was one thing. I’m glad I was able to stop tragedy, but that was mostly just training kicking in. You fall to the level of your training, as the saying goes. Fortunately over the course of all these years in the Corps I’ve had so much training that I can just flip a switch and be the guy our country needs in a time of crisis. I live it 24/7, but sometimes I need to kick it into turbo mode.
Yesterday was full turbo mode. The EMTs checked my heart rate immediately following the apprehension of the criminal. His heart was beating out of his chest. My heart rate? Forty-three. I’m so well trained I’m practically a robot with a heart rate that low.
But what I’m definitely not trained for is this.
Her.
I could feel the outside of her leg brushing against mine in the chopper on the way over. I wanted to unhook her and take her right there as we flew over the big apple.
Mile high club? That’s for amateurs.
Helicopter sex? While it’s in motion? How many people can cross that off their bucket list?
And it was always on mine, but it was never worth the risk just to say I did it.
But damn, she’s the biggest risk ever.
Her dad’s best friend? That’s me. Government helicopter and the court-martial that comes with it? I was considering it. A once in a lifetime opportunity with a girl who makes me feel like I got a punch to the gut every time I look at her? She’s the only one. Ever.
Thank god she was so focused on looking out at the skyline from the chopper. If she would have looked down she would have noticed my raging erection calling out to her. Fuck, the thing was bigger and harder than a stick shift on a piece of farm machinery.
And that wasn’t even my first fantasy.
All I could hear was Steven Tyler yelling, “Love in an elevator,” the moment I stepped inside that thing. Damn, that Aerosmith song is older than she is.
When I was a kid they didn’t have cameras in elevators like they do today. Today I couldn’t risk it. She’s a person of interest in a case I’m assigned to, and I have way too much respect for her. All it takes is one juvenile boy who works the night shift at that building to take a look at that tape and next thing you know the footage is all over the internet. Not happening. Not on my watch.
I exhale so hard I spray some water droplets from my lips onto the mirror.
“Go time,” I say to myself as I turn and leave the bathroom.
And then it starts all over again.
She’s sitting there on the couch with her legs crossed. She looks professional and sexy as hell at the same time. I can’t imagine how those punks I saw at her office are able to work next to her. The way she looks? I’d have to quit, get fired, or put a ring on her finger on the day she started so everyone else knows she’s mine.
A girl like that doesn’t even come along once in a lifetime. Only a fool would make the mistake of missing out on her.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“Brit, you’re never in trouble. You know I got you.” Damn, that was a little too direct. It’s my way though. No point in trying to be someone I’m not. When I see something I want I go for it. And I want her to feel safe whenever I’m around, so I’m going to let her know.
I sit down on the chair that’s perpendicular to the couch she’s on. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation at the Naval Recruiter’s office, but it’s the best we could do considering the circumstances.
Our intel said that nothing would happen at the parade. I’d be placed inside. I’d keep my eyes open. I’d be out as soon as it was over. Easy as one, two, there. Barely a weekend visit.
Didn’t really work out like that.
Everybody has a plan, until you get punched in the face. That’s the saying we learned in our hand-to-hand combat training, and it applies equally as well to what just happened at the parade. And at the moment I’m not even referring to that scum of the earth that tried to harm innocent people, including women and children.
I’m talking about her. My world is already crazy enough as it is, and I’ve just started to get things under control again. It’s taken a lot of work since the divorce.
I buried myself in my work and trying to be the best dad I can be for my daughter, and along comes another kind of daughter…Rick’s.
“I feel better already,” she says, “but what was going on over at my office?”
/>
“You haven’t heard or seen the news?”
“Nothing.”
It hits me that she’s probably so focused on her school work that she got right back to it. Her parents sure raised one tough cookie. She’s nearly plowed over and I bet she just went home and studied…brushed the whole thing off. No time to live in the past. And not only that, she gets up for work this morning like nothing happened.
As much as it pains me to say it, it’s becoming truer by the day. Women are the new men. They’re tougher, more resilient, and don’t complain. It’s how I always thought of my grandfather who served in World War II. And it’s certainly true from the men of his generation. Men today are another story, but women these days? Childbirth for starters. Raising an entire family with a man-child who’s stuck on the couch watching football most of the time. And to make matters worse he’s wearing a team jersey like his twelve-year-old son, and the jersey’s got another man’s name on his back. And then the guy wonders why his wife doesn’t see him as a hero.
Women take it all in stride. It’s the new normal, and they don’t let it get them down. They just keep marching…keep the family running along and never complain one bit. That’s the kind of leadership and devotion to team that the military can’t teach. That’s a mother’s love. And it’s not just mothers. It’s so many women these days. They truly are the stronger of the species, and this girl’s got me thinking like an animal.
“Your face is everywhere. I think they pulled whatever they could from social media after an unnamed source identified you.”
“Do you think this unnamed source—“
“Everybody’s an unnamed source these days. Just means somebody recognized you. Could have been facial recognition software for all we know. Doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that you’re considered a person of interest because you fled the scene, and you volunteer at a location where known terrorists have passed through as recently as six months ago.”
“At the NGO?”
“It’s not your fault. You and your people are just trying to help. Most people are good, and a little help is all they need. There are just some rotten apples who try and game the system. It’s those rotten apples we have to keep our eyes on.”
My subconscious betrays me as it’s clear I’m the one keeping an eye on her. My gaze drifts across her breasts to her waist, and then down those legs of hers. It’s all just what we call a microexpression, but I know she caught it. Fuck! I need to keep this professional.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” she says.
Damn this girl is a trooper. Talk about a team player.
“Thanks, but I’ve got this handled. I just need to ask you some really easy questions. Just answer them truthfully and I’ll cross your name off the list. I know you weren’t involved in any of this. No reason to worry.”
But I’m the one who’s worried. I’m here all alone with her, and I’m doing everything I can to keep my dick in my pants. I thought a man’s testosterone decreased with age. I guess it all depends on what he’s attracted to, and I ain’t never been so head over heels for a girl like this.
CHAPTER 6
Brittney
Sean and I breeze through the questions in under five minutes.
He’s probably supposed to be hammering me hard, this is a huge investigation after all, but the way he asks me questions feels like I’m just telling my friend how my weekend was.
But he’s not a friend, and that’s the benefit right there.
If this were someone my own age, or even a little older, it wouldn’t work. Not just because we know each other, but because he knows how to talk to people. His voice and demeanor are calming. If he wanted to he could probably get me to confess to any and every unsolved mystery in the history of New York right now.
When I’m talking to guys my own age they can’t wait to impress. Sometimes it almost works. I go home thinking, wow…that guy was pretty interesting.
With Sean it’s completely the opposite. The way he asks me questions makes me feel like I’m the most interesting person in the world. The crazy part is my experiences in life don’t even hold a candle to his.
I don’t know if it’s charm, charisma, or just comes naturally, but whatever he’s doing is working. I feel a magnetic pull, and I’m not the only one with directional thoughts at the moment.
My nipples are so hard they’re pointing his direction, as I’ve angled my body to face him as best as I can. And I caught a glimpse of his trousers and let’s just say his compass’ favorite position is due north. I can tell he’s struggling to contain his feelings, and it’s turning me on.
“That’s it,” he says.
“No more questions, your honor?” I joke.
“No more questions. The jury finds you innocent. You are free to go.”
I think of a snappy comeback, but I realize I don’t want to go. That’s the problem. He senses it and feels the same way.
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“Is there something else?” I ask.
“Well, I saw some tea and coffee in the other room. It’s been awhile, and today was not exactly the way old friends should talk to one another,” he says.
Old friends? I’m not sure what to make of that.
“Yeah. A glass of tea sounds good.”
“I’ll boil some water,” he says.
I look around the room imaging eighteen-year-old kids signing on the dotted line right here. Boys agreeing to become men in this very room…offering to risk their life for Corps and country. Then I remember it’s a Naval Recruiting substation and I imagine signing up to be at sea for four years. How can an eighteen year old make that decision?
“That was fast,” I say, as he’s already walking back in the room.
“They have one of those water boiler kettle things. Just plug it into the wall. Water is scorching in about twenty seconds.”
“Technology,” I say. “What will they think of next?”
“Good question. I’ve kind of been left behind by some of that stuff.” He takes a sip. “I guess those things just come naturally to your generation. You’ve been using them your whole life.”
“They do offer a lot of conveniences, but sometimes that convenience comes at a cost.”
“How so?”
“You can get everything right in your home. Whether it’s 157 channels round the clock, Chinese food at three in the morning, or even drone delivery in certain cases.”
“That’s allowed in New York?”
“Maybe not yet, but we’re getting closer. I think some businesses were getting away with it for awhile.”
“Makes my job even tougher.”
“And it makes being my age tougher too. It’s easier to meet people, but much harder to connect with them.”
“You’re a good-looking girl. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of guys beating down your door.”
I feel my skin blush at his compliment. I know he’s my dad’s bestie and he’ll always say nice things to me, but I can also tell his words are genuine and sincere. He wouldn’t tell me I’m good-looking if he didn’t think it himself.
“Thanks, but I don’t actually.”
“That’s surprising,” he says. He adjusts his position in his chair and I catch a slight grimace as he reaches for his thighs, sliding his pants down a little. They seem to be bunching up around the groin, and I can only imagine the pain he’s in.
“I must give off that ‘I’m too busy vibe’ or something.”
“Are you too busy?” His body leans in an inch closer to mine. He’s still a couple feet away, but I feel the distance closing.
“I guess we’re all busy these days, but for the right man anything’s possible.”
“The right man?”
I feel my panties start to moisten at our game of wordplay and I know we’re about to cross the Rubicon.
“I’m not really interested in boys, or anyone who doesn’t have their act together. I’m focused on my fut
ure, and if I’m going to include someone in it I want to make sure they’re focused on their future too…and mine.”
“Sounds like you’re searching for the perfect…man,” he says.
“I wouldn’t say searching,” I say.
“If you don’t have your eyes open you might not notice him when he comes. He might just fall right on your doorstep,” he says.
Nothing about his tone or expression has changed, and I love how he’s not being cheeky about this at all. He’s being very direct without being aggressive or off-putting. I’m attracted to his intelligence and banter just as much, if not more, than I am his perfectly sculpted body.
Veterans Day Daddy: An Older Man Younger Woman Holiday Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 29) Page 3