Chapter 6
Evan Granger Las Vegas, Nevada July 6th, 2016
In high school, I used to draw on my arms with a Sharpie. I knew I was gonna have a lot of tattoos. I'm not exactly classified as an artist, so my drawings could only go so far as I could take 'em. Now my tats are all a story: There's not one I can remember where I got a tat just to get a tat. It's all a part of me. I don't think I'm finished yet.
–Odell Beckham
I 'm right on time for our date. Threw on a pair of stone washed jeans, a white t-shirt and a pair of steel-toed boots. Got my knife strapped to my leg, wallet in my back pocket, and my phone in my front pocket. Good to go. I grab the box of chocolates I bought earlier for Cahira and head up to her room.
When I knock on the door, and she opens it, all the air leaves my lungs. She is wearing a red halter-top with matching shorts in a checkered pattern. It's got a little lace ruffle along the modest neckline and around the bottom of her shorts. She has on cherry red lipstick and high heeled sandals that emphasize her small ankles and elongate her legs. On anyone else, the outfit would look sweet, but on Cahira, it looks like pure sex. She resembles a pin-up model from the 1950's. I notice her hair is down in the wild curls I requested.
I realize I am just staring at her when she looks down at her outfit then back up at me with a puzzled gaze, "What? Do I look OK? Should I change? I wasn't sure where we were going."
Somehow, I recover the use of my senses and manage to growl out, "No. Don't change. You look terrific. Like Rita Hayworth and Marilyn Monroe all rolled into one. You just took my breath away for a second. Here these are for you." I hand over the box of chocolates, and she grins.
“How did you know these were my favorite?” she asks with a quirk of her eyebrow.
Yeah, that would be because I bribed the wait staff.
"Lucky guess. Ready to go Sunshine?" I ask and offer her my arm. She takes it with a smile, and I pull her closer. The familiar scent of lemons and jasmine fills my senses. My eyes rake the elegant lines of her neck that curve gently to the hollow at the base of her throat. I lean in so close that my breath is hot on her throat and murmur against her skin, "You smell so damn good baby girl."
Instantly, flashes of Cahira in my bed, head thrown back on my pillow as I kiss and bite that sexy little hollow play through my mind. I watch her eyes flutter shut and her breath hitch and recognize the desire in her delicious shudder. Catalog the discovery away for future exploration.
We pile into a cab, and I manage to bark out our destination to the taxi driver. "High Roller Ferris Wheel please." I pull Cahira on top of my lap, and she buries her face in my chest.
“I want to bury my lips in your beautiful neck and trace a line with my tongue from your ear to your collarbone.” Cahira moans softly, her body trembling a little with desire and anticipation.
This woman is going to kill me.
She pulls back a little and tilts her face up so that I can see her beautiful emerald eyes. The gold flecks in their depths are blazing with need, lips parted in invitation when she whispers, "Please, kiss me, Evan."
Thank fuck.
My throat rumbles as our lips clash, hungered and fevered this time. Her kiss sets a firestorm to my short-arm. Pretty much taking that for granted at this point. But the fire in the vicinity of my heart scares the hell out of me. By the time we disembark, I am ready to pin her against the nearest wall and have my way with her. Both of us are moaning and out of breath. Cahira whimpers a little when we pull apart.
“You’re killing me Cahira,” I groan out.
I pull away and cup her face in my hands, rest my forehead against hers. Her lips are bruised and swollen from my kisses. I have to adjust my cock before we disembark and Cahira sends me a smug little smirk.
I growl out with a voice thick with promise. “I’m willing to bet those panties are wet.”
She lets out a gasp and turns three shades of red burying her face in my chest again as I pay the cabbie. I'm so damn confused by this woman. It's like she is two different people. A fiery, passionate woman brimming with sexual confidence and an unsure girl uncomfortable with her sexuality. For a brief moment, I consider that she could be a virgin but dismiss it quickly. No way does a woman that looks like Cahira get to be 28 years old with her virginity intact.
I push the mystery from my consideration and pull Cahira into the line for the Ferris wheel. The thing is 550 feet tall, and there are 28 air-conditioned cabins. I tried to rent one of the VIP cabins but couldn't get any tickets. Had to settle for purchasing two tickets to the Happy Hour Cabin. We climb in and look around. Damn thing is big enough to hold 40 civvies and even has a bar. A bank of glass windows gives us a great view of the Las Vegas Skyline. I pull Cahira in for a look, and we watch the changing view for a few minutes with her body molded to mine, one of my arm slung around her waist and the other draped across her shoulders. My five inches of height gives me an excellent vantage point from which to get an eye full of her cleavage.
Don’t look at her tits Evan. Remember, they are pockmarked and saggy. No use thinking otherwise.
My valiant attempt at chivalry lasts about –OK-exactly 48 seconds before my gaze drops down to her breasts. Breasts that are definitely not pockmarked and saggy.
Ah, hell.
Look away. Look away from the light.
I manage to tear my gaze away and remember to act like the gentleman my mother and grandfather taught me to be.
“What can I get you to drink?” I ask
“Vodka, two fingers straight up.”
“Have I told you how sexy you are? I love a woman that can handle hard liquor.”
"Oh, I'm not sure I can handle it, but I like it." She says with a little laughter in her voice.
I bend down to kiss her cheek and reluctantly leave the softness of all those curves to order us a couple of drinks. I am on my way back with our drinks when I notice an Alpha Charlie crowding Cahira. The guy looks like a frat boy, and I can see from Cahira's body language that his attention is not welcome. "We got a problem here?" I grind out. Every muscle in my body wants to rip this turd a new butthole. The frat boy turns around and starts to give me shit before he realizes I got him by a good 5 inches and 100 pounds.
"Leave." I bark out, and the guy takes off and joins his group of friends.
I see Cahira shaking and curse under my breath. "Hey Sunshine, you OK?" She nods, but I can still feel her trembling as I pull her in close to me. I bring her chin up with my forefinger and kiss her softly. Like she is something to cherish. "Hey, I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you Cahira. She nods and hugs me tighter. Damn, she feels so good nestled in my chest. I turn Cahira around, so my back is against the glass and hold her there so she can look past my shoulder and see the skyline. Plus, I can keep an eye out for butt munch frat boy. He joined a group of guys that all got the look of rich and entitled dirt bags. Guys like that aren't used to being told no. I keep my eye on them the rest of the ride.
When we disembark, I stroll over to the LINQ Promenade with Cahira. I waggle my eyebrows and give her a wink and a grin when she reaches out to hold my hand.
“Forward little thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes. When I know what I want I use every asset at my disposal to get it.” She grins back at me, wiggling her eyebrows right back.
“There is no doubt you have several considerable assets at your disposal.” I shoot back, raking my gaze down her body in a slow perusal of those …assets.
"You have many considerable assets at your disposal too. But one, in particular, is the most sizeable," Cahira purrs out, blushing furiously at the same time. Somehow, that blush makes my blood roar even more.
Please resist the urge to dry hump her leg while standing in the middle of the sidewalk.
Twilight is fast approaching as we turn left and explore some more of the promenade. We walk for a few minutes, passing into a section that has fewer restaurants and more clothing stores. Electric lanterns line the sidewalk and cast long shadows on the ground. A British style pub with an outdoor seating area catches my eye, and we head toward it. A trio of musicians are performing Irish folk music in the outside dining area, lively jigs and haunting melodies fill the air. We join the large crowd of people lingering nearby outside the restaurant to hear them play, many with toes tapping and hands clapping as the tempo picks up in a 6/8 beat.
Cahira appears utterly enraptured as she listens to the music, her feet tapping along to the rhythm. She turns to me with a mischievous look on her face, eyes twinkling and asks, "Dance with me?"
"I don't know anything about Irish dancing," I reply, shaking my head.
"Aye, but don't you know I'll teach ye?" Cahira fires back, her Irish brogue evident.
“Ok, why the hell not?”
She stands in front of me with her chin held high, shoulders thrown back, hair cascading behind her in a mass of fire. “Follow my instructions then, cuisle mo chroidhe.”
She winks at me then starts ratting off instructions, “Stand center stage; hop to your knee, raising right foot up to the left knee: spring onto you right foot; with right foot pointed out front, move from center to right side of stage for seven steps. Lead with right foot and follow with left foot…”
I do my best to follow her instructions but fail pretty miserably, the hopping and jumping places a little too much strain on my knees.
“Here I thought you’d be good at dancing,” she says laughing and wiggling her eyebrows as she dances circles around me.
“I’m plenty good at dancing,” I reply with a smirk and a panty-eating grin.
Cahira just lets out that beautiful musical laughter and flings her head back, her body moves faster and faster until she is just a blur of feet and long legs. Cahira’s high heels shoes make clicking sounds as she twirls and stomps to the music. I stand there transfixed, watching her laughing delight in the moment, admiring her complete lack of self-consciousness. Cahira never looks away from my gaze as she dances. Her emerald eyes burrow into my soul.
The carefully constructed defenses I have built around my heart shatter a little more with each stomp of her foot. When the song ends, the crowd applauds the musicians and call out words of praise to Cahira. Her chest is heaving; face flushed a pretty pink, and her emerald eyes are dancing with exertion.
I grip her by the waist and tug her close, pressing my erection against her while I bend her back at the waist and devour her mouth. Her flexible dancer's body folds back as if we are performing a salsa. Desire, yearning, admiration and… well, let's call it hope-all ebb and flow through my chest. Without letting our waists break contact, I pull her back up, so we are chest to chest, wrap my hand in all those wild curls, and tug her mouth towards me. A groan escapes her mouth," I love it when you do that to my hair. When you take control like that," she murmurs into my mouth as she wraps her hand around the back of my head.
"I love the trust you give me. But, Wow. You continually surprise me. That was spectacular, I'm totally under your thrall now," I murmur into Cahira' mouth.
The sun has completely set by now; a full moon shines brightly in the cloudless Las Vegas Sky. She pulls apart and spins around once with her arms outstretched, hair flying, back arched, the fabric of her shirt pulled taut against those spectacular breasts. I catalog the moment away in my brain, knowing I will need to savor it one night while I'm sleeping on the ground in Afghanistan. Then Cahira stops in front of me, eyes still dancing in delight. "What was spectacular? The kiss or the dancing?" She asks her grin bordering on lascivious.
I want to say, “The kiss. The dancing. Your body. Your laugh. Your thirst for life. Your raw sexuality coupled with your innocence. The hair that I want falling in waves down your back as I take you from behind,”Instead, I say, “All of it. You are spectacular.”
“Ditto.” She throws me a pleased grin. “Can we get an ice cream? My treat. I’m so damn hot.”
"We can absolutely get an ice cream. But it's my treat. I get to see you lick an ice cream cone with that incredible mouth." She giggles a little, and I take her hand, walking in comfortable silence until we find a small ice cream store tucked away by itself.
“Want to share a sundae?” I ask.
Cahira nods her head in agreement, and then suggests, “How about a turtle sundae? Do you like those?”
“Absolutely. Love them. Frankly, I’m kind of leery of anyone who doesn’t. Same as not liking dogs, apple pie, or fireworks.”
“I’m in complete agreement.”
We get a giant turtle sundae, hot fudge, vanilla ice cream, real whipped cream, and a cherry on top. The whole nine yards. I pull Cahira onto my lap and watch as she licks her ice cream off one of the two spoons.
"No. I'm going to feed you baby girl. I want control of that mouth." I wrap my left fist in her mass of curls and take away her spoon with my right hand. The spoon slides through the hot fudge and ice cream, and I scoop it up and bring it back to Cahira's mouth. "Open your mouth Baby. Show me that tongue." Her lips part and she makes a little "hmmm" sound while her full lips make love to the spoon.
This sundae was a very, very bad idea.
I repeat the process of spoon-feeding her, slowly, over and over again. Little moans and whimpers escape her throat with each taste. When she starts to suck the chocolate off her spoon, those beautiful cheeks hollow out. Ice cream drips on her chin, and she laughs as she licks it off with her tongue. I completely lose my shit.
"Cahira, baby you know you are driving me crazy with that tongue." She looks at me wide eyed, but I can see a hint of mischief in her eyes. Yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
“That’s it baby girl. You’re going to get a spanking now. You deserve it for torturing me like that.”
I make something between a growl and a moan as I grab our ice cream and toss it in the trash. Cahira protests loudly, lunging for the bowl. I take advantage of Cahira’s distraction and throw her over my shoulder and keep a firm grip on her legs so that her tight little bottom is hanging in front. Slap. Slap. Slap. The palm of my hand makes contact with her curvy ass three times. She shrieks in indignation, but not before, I hear a moan.
So Sunshine likes a little pain with her pleasure. Good to know.
Cahira is laughing and screeching simultaneously as I walk into the nearest alley, tickling her thighs. I slide her down my chest and wrap her legs around my waist. Pinning her to the wall and devouring her mouth as a man possessed. "You taste so good, Sunshine, just like Chocolate and pure sex." She moans into my mouth and pulls me even tighter. I'm so caught up in the moment that I almost don't hear the footsteps come up behind me. Thank fuck there is a thin layer of gravel in the alleyway. My SEAL training kicks in just in time. I drop Cahira carefully to the ground and pivot, bringing my hands up into a fighting stance. Its Frat Boy douche bag and four of his frat friends from the High Roller.
"One of us is outnumbered," he says.
“Yeah, but I will take pity on you and let you walk away unscathed if you leave now,” I bark out, pure menace in my voice.
Frat Boy Douche bag chuckles and jerks his head in my direction and the five of them are on me. I'm a qualified black belt in Karate and Aikido but having Cahira to protect puts me at a disadvantage. She stays quiet behind me, but I know she must be scared out of her mind. I take Frat Boy douche bag out with a roundhouse kick to the jaw, and he falls back onto the sidewalk with a thump. The guy with a dragon tat comes up from my left, and I duck before coming back up with an upper cut to his chin.
I hear the crunch of bone, and he screams, "Fuck! I think you broke my jaw asshole."
I keep him in my periphery as dirt bags three, four and five approach me from the right. I push Cahira further behind me and tell her to run behind the dumpster but can’t risk turning my head to check if she is there safely.
“Cahira, call the cops,” I yell out.
I wouldn't usually bother getting the police involved, but I know damn well what these douche bags will do to Cahira if this doesn't end with me on top. Time to finish this. I let one of the frat boys get behind me and deliver two head butts to his face in quick succession. The fourth guy is a lot closer to my size than the others, and I can see he has had some training from his fighting stance. I reach down and unstrap my WING Tactic 11-inch knife from my leg. It clicks open, and the guy stills. Before I can advance, I hear Cahira scream. I turn to find that frat boy is back up and has Cahira by the neck in a chokehold.
“Drop the knife,” he barks out.
Fuck. I hold up my hands and put the knife on the ground at my feet.
“Kick it over to me,” he calls out.
“No fucking way. Let go of the girl and then will talk.” I grind out.
I see someone come up on my right in my periphery and elbow them to the face before dropping, jumping back up and kicking them in the face. Before I can do anything else, I hear the BZZZZZZ of a Taser. Shit. My blood runs cold, and I lose myself to the adrenalin and muscle memory that comes with years of training.
I move forward with my left foot into a left back stance, use a double fist middle block on Dragon tat and reverse middle punch with my right hand. Douche bag #2 goes down with a left double front kick; I sweep back with a left inside block, double punch Bent Shitcan #4 in the nose. This time he goes down and won't get back up. Douche bag #5 stumbles to his feet, and I move my left foot into a forward left front stance. Then I grab him by the collar with my left hand and pull him toward my right shoulder, delivering a fast right uppercut to his chin. I grab my knife back up and hold it in my right hand, spinning around to look for any more opponents.
I let out a sigh of relief when I realize everyone but Cahira and I are down. Cahira is standing over frat boy with a hot pink Taser in her hand. Tears are streaming down her face, but she keeps her gaze alert, moving back and forth between the piles of douche bags. I bolt over to her and grab her by the arm, pulling her towards me and flipping her back over my shoulder. Bolting for the promenade like the hounds of hell are on my tail.
I’m maybe ten yards in before I hear, “Halt. Put the girl down and your hands in the air.” Aww hell. What a freaking Charlie Foxtrot. I carefully lower Cahira to the ground and then kneel on the concrete sidewalk with my hands behind my head.
Cahira calls out, “No, he saved me. The five guys you are looking for are on the ground in the alleyway over there.”
I hear two sets of footprints run back to the alleyway, and the same voice says, "Don't move a muscle mister. We are verifying your story." That's when I know it's going to be a long, long night.
By the time the cops let me go, and we have given our statements it is almost midnight. Cahira had the foresight to turn on her cell phone when she ran behind the dumpster and recorded the rest of the fight on video. It's pretty clear who the aggressors are once the cops watch the video, and their attitudes do a quick 180. Cahira makes a quick phone call to her dad, and they quickly get a phone call from the Commanding Officer of nearby Nellis Air Force Base. When they run my background check and see I'm a Navy SEAL with a bunch of chest candy, they are tripping all over themselves. We even get a ride back to the Mandalin.
I help Cahira out of the police car and pull her against me for the first time since we entered that damn alley. She has shown a surprising amount of poise at the police station, but once I hold her, the tears begin to fall and she starts to shake in my arms. I hold her tighter and use my right hand to stroke her hair, murmuring soft words to her. "Shhh. It's OK Cahira. You're OK, I won't let anything happen to you."
"I was so scared. So frightened that something would happen to you," Cahira murmurs back.
My heart clenches in my chest. No one but the men in my unit has given a shit about me since my brother died. At that moment, I know I will do anything, be anything, and give everything she needs. I walk her back upstairs and wait while Cahira fumbles with her purse as she looks for her room card. She finally finds it and turns back around, her small soft hands grabbing my own rough-hewn hands. Cahira looks down at our hands, biting her lip a little before she finally looks up at me, her beautiful face lined with worry.
"Will you come in? I mean, I'm sharing my bedroom with Rebecca so we can't…umm. Well, what I mean is ... I would feel safer with you here. We have a huge sofa that pulls out. I have lots of extra pillows. I'll make sure you have everything you want." When Cahira realizes that her last statement might be viewed innuendo, her hand flies up to her mouth. "Umm, what I meant was…" My lips find hers before she can finish the next sentence and I brush my calloused thumb across her cheek.
"Shhh, little Warrior. I know what you meant. I would be honored to stay here and protect you. I slept in a whole lot less comfortable places than a foldout couch at a 5-star hotel. Believe me," I smile at her reassuringly, and she leads me by the hand into her suite.
The place is gorgeous, floor to ceiling windows giving a spectacular view of the Las Vegas skyline. I tuck her into the crook of my right arm and hold her so that her back is to my chest. My left arm circles her waist and I swear I can feel her pulse jump in her chest. Or maybe it's my pulse jumping. I bury my nose into her hair and chuckle.
Then I murmur in her ear, "You were so brave tonight little warrior. You looked sexy as hell when you were standing over that frat boy with your hot pink Taser."
My short-arm must think so too because my jeans get tighter. Cahira jumps a little when she feels my reaction.
“Can’t help what my Johnson thinks we should be doing. But my heart thinks we should stay like this for a while yet.”
I feel her body relax and sigh into me. We stand there for a few more minutes, lost in our emotions. When I finally get settled on the couch, Cahira shuts the door to her room with a soft, “Goodnight Evan. Thank you for saving my life tonight.” I roll onto my back and clasp my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling for hours. For the first time since my brother died, I realize I have something to live for.