Billy's Baby - Annie J. Rose Page 0,12

mission had run as sharp and sweet in my veins as this feeling. My whole body thrummed with anticipation and desire. I was rock hard, and there was no distracting myself or getting past it. All those years in the SEALs, I had to ignore any urges I had, keep my mind on the mission. Now I’d been out of the service long enough that, although I still considered myself disciplined, I’d had my share of women. It wasn’t unusual for me to be attracted to someone, but it was way out of the ordinary for me to have an untamable hard-on hours later. Something about her got under my skin and made me want to get her under me as fast as possible. It felt wild and primal like my skin itched with need and I could have howled at the moon with frustrated longing.

There were so many places I could show her in the rain forest, a quiet pool near the river that was so secluded, so private. The perfect place to strip off and slide into the cool water together, wrap my arm around her waist and haul her against my chest and kiss her. No, no private spots to check out on our hike, I scolded myself. I’d show her birds and wildlife and the different types of trees. Including the one that had a huge hollow in part of its trunk almost as big as a cave, taller than me, a shallow, shadowy spot perfect for stealing a kiss. Except I would do no such thing because I was a hiking guide who was hired to show her the sights. So it didn’t matter that there was a place deep into the woods and off the trail where there was a small clearing where white and yellow flowers grew wild this time of year. What a perfect place that would be to lay her down. I tried to shake it off, the damn porn reel I kept creating in my mind when I planned our hike. I had to stop thinking of her that way. Our relationship was purely professional and would remain that way.

Every strategy I’d ever used to calm my body when arousal was inconvenient had failed me. Not reciting casualty statistics for every major battle in the European theater of World War II. Not trying to remember the Presidents in order—everything went fuzzy after Chester Arthur. Going over the sequence of expedient recon in a rescue operation didn’t distract me. All my tricks failed. It was hopeless. Morgan’s voice and face and body, her salty attitude and sharp wit had disarmed me. I had fallen prey to what could only be an accidental seduction. She had done nothing to entice me except for being herself and eating dinner. It was difficult to imagine hearing that voice for more than two minutes without going hard as steel and thick as a pipe. Already my hand was wandering over my dick. I couldn’t resist.

I gave way to it. I surrendered. I shut my eyes and let myself think of her. The sweep of her honeyed hair across her forehead, her striking dark eyes and the curve of her smile that was positively wicked at times. Her bottom lip was fuller than the top one, and I wanted to suck it between my lips, trail my tongue across it and then part her lips with mine. I gripped my cock and pumped it, a raging torrent of desire crashing over me.

The idea of peeling off her shirt made me shudder. I would reveal her high, rounded breasts, suckle her nipples and then blow cool air on them to watch them pucker. Then I’d lick them, nip at them, make her go wild with arousal the way I was. Nothing thrilled me like the notion that I could rile her up as much as she had gotten to me. My hands on her belly, slide down into her shorts and touch her, first dipping just inside the elastic of her panties, then probing deeper, to the hot crease between her legs, slick already with her wetness. I’d fondle her and make her writhe against my fingertips before I plunged two fingers into her, coating them with her juices and going in easily to stroke her, making her eyes roll back, her head toss from side to side on the pillow. She’d be moaning, saying my name, bucking her hips to get my fingers to go deeper.