Goddamn. What I wouldn’t do…
I lean against the cupboards and try not to look as she sweeps past - her long fingers catching the door before it closes and taking out an ice-cold brew - but I can’t help it. She holds it up to her cheek and then her forehead, blushing and laughing a little as she does, then she tries to unscrew the cap with her palm and winces.
‘Ow,’ she says, shaking her hand and blushing. I gesture and she passes it over, a little reluctantly. I’m guessing she was either a Tom-boy growing up, or she has a few older brothers.
I pop the top and hand both back, but she fumbles the cap and it rolls along the floor, and my eyes drop to her ass as she picks it up. My dick throbs as she bends down, her little dress riding up for half a second, affording me a glimpse of the peach curve of her ass, a hint of white lace panties, and a taste of one of those tattoos.
Fuck me.
My airway constricts as I stare, my lips drying up and my heart racing. I look away too late as she stands and I know she sees me looking, so I take a swig of beer and pass it off.
‘So…’ I say, and I panic because I don’t know how to end the sentence I’ve just started.
After a moment she grins and holds the bottle to her chest, swinging the skirt of her dress, before licking her lips and eyeing me. ‘Normally people finish that by saying, Great weather we’re having, or, Did you see the game last night? Take your pick.’
I laugh. ‘Smart ass,’ I say.
‘I get called that a lot,’ she says, taking a sip and blushing.
She sits down on the stool opposite me, this time taking care to tuck her dress in between her thighs, flattening the hem against the wood. She sits like a cowboy, her knees wide and open, and I still can’t help but look, my eyes drawn to the hourglass shape of her little frame.
‘So what do you do?’ she says.
I look up and meet her gaze. ‘I can’t tell you.’
‘You say that to all the girls?’ she grins, pushing her luck.
‘Only the ones who ask too many questions,’ I say, leaning back. I give her an inch and she takes a mile. This girl needs a good spanking. And you need to control yourself, says my head.
‘Army, right?’ she says, taking another sip as she eyes me. ‘But high up. Intelligence. NORAD shit.’
I squint, my chest tightening. I lean forward, my instincts tingling. ‘Where did you grow up?’
‘Here and there,’ she says, raising an eyebrow and a mischievous grin. ‘Mostly Buckley.’
Fuck.
Of course.
That’s why she’s so organised and neat, and why my instincts have picked her out as a hellion. She’s mature beyond her years, and yet... I smile and nod. ‘You’re a base brat.’
‘Sir, yes sir,’ she says, saluting.
I say nothing and after a moment she looks down and plays with the hem of her skirt again, ruffling it between her fingers. I run my eyes up her pale legs, focusing on the little splashes of freckles here and there, then I trace the contours of her tight little waist and hips whilst I have the chance.
‘So no boyfriend?’ I say, taking a swig. ‘Girlfriend?’
‘No,’ she laughs and shakes her head then she pauses and flashes a look at me. ‘Well, there’s this guy…’
My heart thumps and my eyes narrow as my grip tightens on the bottle and my throat goes dry.
‘His name is Kyle,’ she says, and I damn near shatter the glass. ‘We’ve been talking, and texting, but I don’t know. I think I’m into him, and I think he’s into me, but he doesn’t like…’ she stops as she sees my expression, and I loosen it quickly. ‘You don’t need to know all this,’ she laughs.
‘No, go on,’ I say, waving for her to continue.
She sighs. ‘I don’t know, it’s like, if someone likes me, I want them to act on it. To just, go for it, and not think about it. Wait, that sounds wrong. I don’t want someone to just like, kiss me or whatever, but I want them to want me. Kyle is nice, but it just seems like he doesn’t… I don’t know.’
Part of me wants to tell her to forget this guy, to delete his number and block him and to never think about him again as I march across the room and kiss her so hard I leave her dizzy and spinning, but I know I can’t.