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Fuck. I wish I hadn’t lied. I think I’m in love with this woman.

It’s unbelievable. This is the last time I’ll be making love to…K. That’s the only part of her real name she’ll give me—an initial. And, after I make love to her just one more time, we’ll both have to say goodbye.

I let my weight fall heavily on her. I want her to feel like I’m hugging her whole body as tightly as her pussy is hugging me as I enter her.

“I’m going to miss you,” K says softly, her warm breath in my ear. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but I’m still going to miss you.”

Ah, fuck. This is supposed to feel good, but it hurts.

“Shh,” I whisper back, “let’s just enjoy this one last time.”

I can’t tell her I’m going to miss her, as well. If I do, I might break down and my dick will go limp. It’s never happened before, but I don’t think I’ve felt like this about anyone. The thought of not seeing her ever again weakens me. Goddamn it! I feel like I might cry.

I hook my hands behind her back then over her shoulders and bury my face in her neck. I grind against her hips and into her exactly how she likes it—working my ass and my abs in a controlled slamming but cycling repetitive motion of pound and recede forcing her to feel every stroke of our friction.

K starts moaning and wraps her legs tight around my waist. I love feeling like she’s clinging to me and doesn’t want to let me go. I slip my hands behind her head, gripping her silky thick, straight, black hair. “I need you to come for me, baby,” I tell her.  It’s almost time for me to go.

“I can’t,” she says. “I’m too sad.”

Oh God, I’m glad it’s not just me feeling pitiful.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, looking into her dark brown eyes, but I thrust into her even harder, making her body jerk in unison with the hotel bed.

  “Please don’t stop,” she beckons. “Just come, come inside me.” K laces her fingers behind my head of cropped brown hair and looks into my honey brown eyes. “And kiss me while you come.”

My face feels hot and my eyes feel wet. I don’t want K to see my face so I fist K’s hair and force my tongue into her mouth. The slick wet lips of our mouths and her pussy—Oh fuck! I’m about to erupt.

I come hard and I can’t help but grunt in K’s mouth and she laughs. I love her laugh. It’s the thing I’m going to miss most, and I love the jiggle and tightening of her body as I spill inside her.

I look at the clock. “I have to go.”

I kiss her warm neck one more time because I want to remember her smell. She always smells sweet, like strawberry candy. Even her cunt smells like candy until after we have sex. Then, she smells like sex and candy and I want to lick her all over.

I reluctantly roll off her and reach for my clothes to get dressed. As I throw on my jeans, t-shirt, and covered shoes, I look at the beautiful half-Asian woman lying naked in the bed—smooth fair skin, long black hair, brown eyes, pretty rose-colored lips that match her cheeks, and umber-colored nipples, which I bend down to suck on and feel it tighten in my mouth.

K lifts my chin. “Goodbye,” she says, forcing a grin.

I kiss her soft lips and I feel like I’m pouting. I don’t know how she can be so strong about this. Most girls I’ve had a fling with are usually trying to formulate a plan to stay connected, which never works out when we live so far apart. But not K. We’ve agreed to have our fling and let it go.

“Bye,” I choke.

I walk towards the hotel door where my suitcase is standing and ready. I grab the handle, reach for the doorknob, but I hesitate.

Am I sure I don’t want to get her number? She didn’t ask for my number. Do I really not want to link up with any of her social media profiles to stay in touch? She didn’t request to do that with me and I get the feeling she doesn’t want to.

I am tempted to turn around and ask her if she’s married or some bullshit like that, though I’m also enticed to turn around and tell her the truth—I’m not really a pilot or an officer in the military, but a lower-ranking enlisted mechanic. Although I do fly airplanes, the military wouldn’t allow me to be a pilot for them. Apparently, my personality test reported I was “too angry” for such a position.

Of course, she got the glorified version of my status. I wanted to impress her to get under her dress—and it worked. I just didn’t think I’d still be interested after one night, which then led to two nights until we decided to move into one hotel room to share the remainder of our vacation time together.

We met at my brother’s wedding. K is my new sister-in-law’s friend and was invited at the last minute since by chance K was in town. I was one of the groomsmen, also from out-of-town. Neither of us had dates so it was only a matter of a few drinks before we both eventually ended up at the same table to talk. Of course, I wasn’t really listening considering her small tits still had a nice bounce whenever she laughed under her low-cut, shimmery daffodil-colored dress.

K caught me checking her out and I guess, between the champagne and soft glances, we both seemed eager to want to leave the wedding reception and start up a party of our own. It didn’t take but ten minutes for us to find ourselves in her hotel room across the street after we decided to jet.

“Jet. Jet. Jet.” She kept saying my name as I fucked her like she was obsessed with it as much as she was with my cock. I didn’t fuck her too hard though. She seemed like a nice girl and after I got her off, she wanted to know more about my name—how I got it, whether it was my real name or a nickname. When I told her I got my pilot’s license at fifteen, she seemed more eager to learn my past and we both couldn’t believe the coincidence—she, like me, loves airplanes of all things. K, likewise, impressed me with her intellect; she’s studying engineering.

But more than anything, I was caught up in her eyes always glancing at me with wild excitement. Every glance she made was filled with bewilderment like she had found something—someone truly special. The thought that I might be that special someone made me want to impress her as well.

When she asked me what I did for a living, I did not want to disappoint, so I said I was a pilot in the military.

Not. True.

I mentioned I didn’t want to discuss it further because I was married to my work, which was “boring and hardly conversational.”

Also. Not. True.

And, I added that as much as I loved my job, I needed a break from talking about flight status, which was just a cover so I wouldn’t dig myself in deeper with fictitious details. But despite the lies, she still seemed a little disappointed.

When I asked K about her life, she said she was focused on her studies. Beyond that, she didn’t want to divulge anything further, either. Like me, she mentioned, she was happy with her life but didn’t mind taking a break from the expectations of the norm. So, we decided not to talk too much about our personal lives. We spent several days just hanging out around town and in the hotel room—laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

On the first night, I learned K’s college was based somewhere along the East Coast, which is far from where I’m stationed in Hawaii. Plus, K still has two more years before she graduates. So, even if we were both interested in keeping something going on between us, deep down, we knew it would never work out and these five days would inevitably turn into something less memorable. I believe we both felt there was something about our instant attraction that we wanted to preserve, which long distance messaging and phone calls would only destroy.

I look at the handle of the hotel door—I still haven’t gripped it yet.

My flight is taking off soon and I can’t miss it because I have to report for duty tomorrow. I don’t know why I’m struggling with this. It’s not the first time I fucked a girl and had to take off. They all know what they’re getting into. I make it clear I’m not going to hang around but they still want to get in bed with me and they still cry afterward.

It pains me a little K’s not crying about it. I figure maybe I’m just caught up in the moment, like how women get when they watch romantic movies and don’t want it to end.

Or, for the first time, I’m uneasy because a woman is fine with just letting me go like she has no other option like she’s not interested in other options.

“Jet,” K calls out from behind me, but I don’t turn to look at her. If I do, I’ll want to crawl back in bed with her. “Jet, you’ll miss your flight,” she says. “You’d better take off.”

I reluctantly grip the handle and roll my suitcase out the door. I pull the door shut until I hear the lock click and I look across the hall. It seems much longer and narrower than I recall. I take a breath and the air feels stale and empty. I roll my suitcase towards the elevators where I wait in silence and when the doors finally open, I pause before I step inside when I notice my reflection in a mirror along the back wall.

I don’t just feel like shit; I look like shit.

My cheeks are flush. I’m fucking red all over and damn. I need a haircut.

I straighten up and remind myself I’m a soldier—an Airman. When duty calls, there are no questioning feelings, especially my own. So, it’s time to go and I guess I should be glad K made it easy for me to just leave.

Take off, she said to me. It’s as if she understands my obedience to military service, to Congress, and to my Commander-in-Chief—the President. I follow his orders whether I agree with him or not. And maybe that’s exactly what my problem was from the beginning.

K is a nice girl. She deserves a nice guy—someone who is always going to be there for her, be nice to her, and always be obedient to her needs.

The elevator descends and I grin at my own reflection, checking out my dimples.

Chicks dig the dimples. K said they were nice. She said a lot of things about me were nice and I hate to admit that I might’ve lied about a few other things as well. Ultimately, I think I lied because I didn’t want her to know who I really was—angry and an occasionally overzealous Badass. Instead, I wanted to leave K with a memory of someone who treated her nicely.

I hear a ding, so I turn around to watch the elevator doors open to a busy lobby with giant glass windows boasting a bright blue sky.

I still have the taste of K in my mouth and her sweet scent is lingering. None of it is enough to help me go forward—quite the opposite in fact. But the memories—the thought that she was mine for a time is enough fuel for me to pick up my feet and fly.