Chapter Two

 

Across the river, Gray’s hand flashed up and down the length of his hard, thick cock until his balls tightened. With one more pass from base to tip, pearly white cream shot from his cock, arcing high before it landed a direct hit on his T-shirt. He groaned as a second, third, and fourth volley shot across the porch.

Once he could see again, Gray returned his attention to the woman who had become the center of both daydreams and more than a few midnight fantasies. Having been trained as a Cherokee healer since he could walk, Gray saw the soul deep pain in the woman. Her need and pain called to his spirit almost as hard as her knockout body.

The wild streak he normally kept hidden from the world broke free from the iron control the Marines had taught him. He balled up his cum-soaked T-shirt then reached for his shorts. No one should be alone on their birthday, especially not a sexy woman who appeared to hate clothes and seemed so alone in the world.

 

Heading through his bedroom, Gray grabbed a clean T-shirt from the dresser then shoved his feet into battered dock shoes. He got as far as the doorway before turning back for the large box of condoms in the top drawer of his nightstand.

 

Cal Roberts, his best friend and wingman, had gifted him with the box containing a dozen condoms as a “welcome back to the world” gift when they had returned from a six-month tour in Iraq two weeks before.

 

Condoms in hand, Gray raced down the stairs, pausing for a moment at the first floor landing. He looked to the front door, but hesitated. Driving the bridges across the Neuse and Trent Rivers and then weaving back through town would take too long.

 

Turning, he headed through the kitchen, stopping only long enough to grab the boat keys off the pegboard by the telephone. He pulled the back door closed behind him then ran to the dock. Slipping the dock lines, he jumped on board his father’s boat and moved to the captain’s seat. As soon as the engine settled to a steady roar, he pushed the throttle forward and pointed the boat across the river.

 

As he flew across the open water, Gray pinpointed her yard and was pleased to see an empty dock extending into the river. Easing the throttle forward another notch, he tried to come up with a plausible, sane, and believable explanation for the lust-fueled insanity he was about to commit.

 

* * * * *

 

As her hips pumped against the still thrumming vibrator deep inside her cunt, she lifted her hands to her breasts. Massaging the flesh and twisting her nipples, she rode a second,orgasmic wave nearly as powerful as the first. Breathless, yet still sadly unfulfilled, she reached between her legs and switched the vibrator off.

 

Reaching for the open beer, she quickly finished it. Feeling weak, she staggered to the chair by the table where she collapsed onto one of the chairs. When the cold metal touched her bare skin she squeaked. Only then did she pull the sex-drenched imitation cock from her body.

 

As she caught her breath and worked to regain some control, she heard a boat motor. Scanning the river visible? from where she was, she pinpointed the sound to a sleek speedboat heading across the river at a fast clip.

 

Not just across the river, but toward her.

 

Oh my God, had someone seen her? Standing, she staggered toward the house on wobbly legs that were still relaxed and loose from her sexercise. She tripped as she entered the back door, but with some fancy footwork, regained her balance before she fell flat on her face. She only had a minute to dress before the boat would be at her dock, so she did not bother with the corset. She sucked a breath as the soft cotton shirt settled over her still sensitive nipples.

 

She pulled on her skirt as she headed back down the hall. By the time she stepped out the back door, the boat had arrived at her dock. She watched as the man secured it then walked toward her with long, unhurried steps. She crossed the patio slowly, uncertain, yet thrilled.

 

She had to send him on his way as quickly as possible. It was her birthday and she had plans to spend the evening, hell the entire weekend, in as few clothes as possible while trying to tame the horny urges that grew stronger and more demanding by the day. Dressed again, she tried to shift mental gears back to the competent, efficient public persona of Alaina Rowen who always, always remained in control.

 

She stopped at the top of the three wide stairs beside the flowerpot. Not sure what to do with her hands, she crossed them over her chest, but that pushed her unbound breasts up and together, rubbing her erect nipples against the soft fabric. Dropping her arms back to her sides, she clenched and unclenched her fists as she watched the man continue striding toward her.

 

He was tall, built, and good looking with honey brown skin, though she couldn’t tell if it was his natural coloring or a tan. His hair, cut in the distinctive high and tight Marine style so many men around town wore. She could not tell if the strands were black or dark brown. His face was sculpted with high cheekbones, a prominent nose, and a strong jaw. Khaki shorts hung from his hips and ended just below his knees. His black T-shirt advertised that he got crabs from Dirty Dick’s Crab House. As he returned her blatant inspection, his eyes glowed silver. Her dark, sex-craving side silently screamed that this was the kind of man she needed.

 

He looked healthy and in shape, but in a stark, hungry way that made her wonder if he’d had a home-cooked meal recently. His curious, yet predatory, expression made her wonder at his intentions as he continued across the yard.

 

“This is private property,” she said in a stern voice as he approached the steps.

 

“Uh huh,” he agreed with the smile. The only problem was his expression reminded her of a wolf on the hunt. He continued up the three wide steps to close the last few feet between them.

 

“Who are you?”

 

He stopped with only inches separating them. “I’m the answer to your birthday wish.”

 

As one hand went to the middle of her back, the other cupped her jaw, lifting her face to his. He brushed his lips across hers once before settling in for an extended stay.

 

Alaina lifted her hands, intending to push him away, but froze when the tip of his tongue traced across her lower lip. Her arms then inched their way around to his back. Her sensible public persona balked at her move, while her normally hidden bad girl jumped up and down screaming “Yippee!”

 

Giving in to her dark side, Alaina parted her lips and extended her tongue in invitation. She squeezed him a bit tighter as she shifted her lower body against the bulge pressing into her belly. She tasted beer on his tongue and inhaling deeply, she smelled laundry detergent, clean male and citrusy, woodsy cologne.

 

Her hands worked their way down his muscular back and into his shorts to caress the solid mounds of his tight ass. The hand cupping her jaw drifted down her neck and chest, to palm her breast with an easy familiarity that made her cunt clench.

 

When he broke the kiss, they were both breathing hard and fast. Alaina stared up at him, her eyes wide when she realized exactly where her hands were. She swallowed hard and blinked, but could not think of a single thing to say.

 

“Happy birthday.” His eyes glowed silver through the growing darkness.

 

“Oh my,” she jerked her hands free of his shorts and took a step back. “Oh my.”

 

Her cunt puffed up and dripping, her libido shifted into hyperdrive, the two sides of her personality were warring, each whispering advice on how to get through the next few minutes. The advice was so contradictory she took another step back. She wasn’t sure where she was going or why, but she had to put enough distance between them that she could think. She needed to decide whether to slap him or apologize.