ONE
Curiosity is the driven knowledge for lust within the mind, soul, and body.
~ Styx Fuller
I knew the moment she glanced my way, I had to have her. Kaboom. White-hot desire spread in an instant. Sizzling chemistry drawing me in by my overzealous anatomy. Both organs, my mind and my dick, on a direct course for her. My other brain in total and complete agreement. He’s found his newest conquest, a new home.
Her body, the stuff wet dreams are made of, and the face to go with it. Pouty lips and fuck-me eyes. Her platinum blond hair is cut short. Normally, I prefer my women to have long hair, the better to wrap my hands around and tug while in the throes of passion. In her case, it’s a tiny mishap that’s okay by me. Her long, luscious legs a man could wrap around him and green eyes the color of Grayson’s pastures back home put a strain on my iron will.
Johnny, Beauty, and I strolled into Grayson’s hospital room. I was pushing a wheelchair the hospital required him to leave in. Grayson was shot in the shoulder a few days back during an ambush, while we were making contact with Mustaf’s second, Badahur. Mustaf’s terrorist cell is our target and the higher-ups want him taken down using all means necessary. He’s been selling arms to insurgents for years, perpetuating wars amongst the neighboring countries in the Middle East. We’ve been sent to find and eliminate the danger. That’s what we do. Specialize in taking down unknown threats. It’s a risky business, but as a team, we’re damn good at it.
I grew up with Johnny and Grayson in Lakeview—best buds throughout school. So, following them into the Army was a no-brainer for me. Nothing was tying me to The View. I didn’t have a reason to stay; I could always come home and visit my family. When Grayson approached me to join an elite squadron he was putting together, I accepted without a second thought. Throughout the years, we formed a brotherhood—a family of sorts. I would die for them. Not only my brother-in-arms, but brothers for life.
Grayson is one lucky son of a bitch, judging from our most recent scuffle with the insurgency. The bullet went through and through, or he would be sitting in a hospital bed for weeks healing.
As we entered his room, I joked, “Your chariot awaits, my king,” and stopped right in front of him, waiting for the explosion to occur. It didn’t take long with the G-man.
“No fucking way am I leaving here in that,” he angrily spouted.
“You will if you want to leave, sugar,” a husky voice from behind me said.
I turned to find the person who belongs to the voice. In that moment, it was as if the heavens opened up and the most beautiful angel ever created stepped into the room. A bone deep premonition slammed into me, assuring that everything would change, and in an instant, I knew I would never be the same again. I had to play it cool. No need to give away all my cards in the first meeting.
She is studying me. Worshipping my body with her angelic gaze. There is nobody else alive but us. Nothing else matters. Not the grip I have on the wheelchair, Grayson pacing back and forth ranting about the wheelchair, or Beauty and Johnny talking quietly behind me. Words are not needed, only the hunger surging between us. I observe as she lays claim to every inch of me. Her eyes peruse every part of me, beginning at my toes and sauntering slowly upwards to meet my eyes. I watch as her pupils dilate and her breathing accelerates. She likes what she sees and doesn’t mind letting me know. Good to know she’s not a timid little church mouse.
My turn.
Hunger and desire flare to life inside of me as I return the favor. My study of her is thorough. I begin with her pouty red lips, aching to nibble and taste, I stare until her pink tongue darts out and wets her bottom lip from the anticipation. I want to groan, but don’t thanks to years of self-discipline and training. She leans her head to the right, and I focus on the pulse where her shoulder and neck meet, mentally caressing it with my tongue. Chill bumps appear on her delicate arms, and her chest reddens with a blush as I stop to appreciate the more than a handful mounds of flesh, dreaming of fondling both to a point of raptured need. My tongue darts out, wetting my lips, and I bite my lower lip between my teeth to stop the groan from surfacing. Her body shifts slightly, generated by my interrogation of her luscious curves.
Her identification badge rests there, and I take my time memorizing her name and rank. Second Lieutenant, Savannah Bushard. I’ll be able to find her later tonight.
Continuing down her hourglass shape, I pass her flat stomach to the junction of her ample thighs. She squirms when my heated stare lingers. I picture her spread wide on my bed at home and hesitate before following the path down her long legs and begin my journey back to her scorching green eyes. I’ve claimed her body. She’s mine as she unhurriedly nods her head in affirmation.
I blink, acting as if nothing has transpired in the last few minutes, and focus on securing Grayson once again.
“Come on, Captain. We’re going to visit Aabdar before we take you to your temporary quarters. It’s not like we haven’t gone for a ride in one of these bad boys before. My ass has seen so many it would put your ass to shame.” I chuckle trying to lift the sensual fog from my brain.
Grayson looks around for help, and I know I’ve got him when he turns and plops down in the wheelchair, ready to leave. I look at her one last time, exit the room, and follow the guys to the elevator. My mind is racing a mile a minute at the possibility of spending a lustful night between her luscious thighs. Savannah. Her name is branded in my thoughts.
The fact that she’s an officer, taboo for an enlisted man like myself, doesn’t even faze me. Breaking down the invisible bullshit barriers won’t be an issue, especially with the heat that passed from her to me. She saw my stripes and knows my rank, and it didn’t seem to bother her.
Until we meet again, my sweet Savannah doll.