from—that she should be fearful of—is myself.
I’ve made the decision to try to be with her…whatever that really means. There isn’t another option. I can’t think of anything else. When I close my eyes I see huge blue eyes, her cheekbones, her white smile. Oh, I still think of her sucking and fucking, but now it’s more. Way more. I’m worried if I don’t get whatever the fuck this is out of my system before deployment, I might not be as focused as I need to be. I’m losing my normal precision control and it scares the shit out of me. I’m afraid to kiss her because I’m afraid to fuck her because I’m afraid of what that will mean. I know enough to know I can’t fuck Windsor Forbes out of my system. The tiny glimpses I’ve gotten into her world only intrigue me and make me want to know more.
For the first time in my entire life I want more from another person and I can’t give what I take. It’s a mutual relationship with my teammates. What I give, they give back. It’s symbiotic. I can tell Windsor wants more from me, and that’s the scariest fucking thing of all. Because I know I’ll eventually give it to her. And it will wreck her completely to pieces. The damage will be catastrophic. Worse than death. The biggest halo of dark red blood spray will come from the right section of my own God damned chest.
Currently, my pulse resides in my cock. She’s in the passenger seat of my car wearing the smallest jean shorts I’ve ever seen. Her long tan legs are stretched in front of her. Tiny gray Converse shoes tap along to music. The white tank top rides up every time she leans over to mess with the radio, and I pray that static will fuzz out a song every couple minutes so I can catch a glimpse of exposed skin. With her hair down and her face almost bare of makeup, she looks like a walking water board created especially for me. Torture on every level. I haven’t even figured out what exactly it is about her that makes her so different from every other girl I’ve met in the last five years. What holds my interest? What keeps me engaged? I have no clue. I actually sat down and made a list of pros and cons of dating Windsor. The only cons were all things that dealt with me. Things that I can’t change, that are my fault. Not hers.
I put Steve in place the second I bought a new cell phone. He knows exactly where I stand with her, even if he doesn’t understand it. On a whim, I decided to change my number so my phone wouldn’t be blowing up with texts and calls from all of the insignificants. I meant what I told her. I really don’t want anything to do with anyone else. That said, I need to get laid badly. My cock saluted Windsor the second she came bouncing down the stairs when I picked her up. I’ve had to work at keeping it at bay as I drive, but even her damn voice gets to me. This is our fourth date since the horrible dinner date.
A pop song blares out of my speakers, causing me to wince a little. “I love this song,” she says, curling her legs underneath her. “How can you drive without glancing at me even once?” she asks. “I mean, I’m glad you’re a safe driver, but what gives? Are you worried about crashing this beautiful piece of machinery?” I chuckle. Little does she know my peripheral vision has been studying her every subtle curve for the past twenty minutes. She refers to my car with such reverence. I love it.
“Some things demand your full attention,” I say. To make a point I turn my head and look directly at her. She startles and her full lips part. I make a show of running my eyes down over her cleavage and back up again. She smiles.
“Just drive, please,” she says, her voice a little breathy. I love that I affect her. “You should tell me where we’re going, too.” I focus my attention back on the bare road. Sunday mornings are always like this. I’m usually on my bike, by myself, but this…with her, feels good. She rubs her hand on the bottom of the seat, feeling the leather.
I grab one of her