Page 23 of Issued

“This is probably just as weird for Taya as it is for you. The woman moved to another state. Left her life to start over with you. Yeah, fine, Redding pushed you into the program. But can’t be easy for her. Wasn’t easy for Marge at first being married to a SEAL and we knew each other since high school.” A raspy sound comes through the speaker, one I’m familiar with. The big oaf is clearing his throat, about to make some stupid dig. “And if you’re planning on buying her something, send Marge a picture first.”

I thrive on perfection, and Taya makes me feel imperfect. Like everything I do is wrong. Setting up her room, wrong. Offering to help her find a better job, wrong. Getting angry... okay, she’s justified there. I groan, rubbing my temple.

Maybe this time, I’ll succeed. A glint of metal winks at me from the other side of the garage. “I could change the oil in her bike? It sounded like shit the last time she went out.”

“Would’ve gone with flowers or something, but whatever. Wait, how’d she get to work?”

Good question. Shaken & Stirred isn’t too far from the house, but certainly not walking distance. “Maybe Uber?”

“Ah crap, Marge is here. Gotta go.”

“You guys shopping for the barbecue?” Bear and Marge’s annual get-together is often the highlight of the spring for me.

“You know it. The woman spends thirty minutes chatting it up with some Stepford Wife in the produce section, but I’m the monster if I so much as look at my cell.”

“Give her a break. She likes spending time with you. God knows why.”

Bear laughs. “Fuck you,” he says fondly, and I grin as the call disconnects.

My chest squeezes. I love my best friend, but at times, his relationship with his wife is too much to handle. It leaves me longing for a relationship I’ll never have. If my own parents didn’t enjoy spending time with me, how could I expect anyone else to?

But I’m better off without someone caring for me. God only knows, one day I might not come home. Or, come home completely destroyed and unable to provide for them. No way would I want to burden someone with that.

I take a step forward and raise a brow in appreciation. “Hello, beautiful.” The moniker fits perfectly. Taya’s Ninja 650 truly is a beauty, and I eye the clean lines.

I reach beneath the bench for an empty canister and new jug of oil. Taya’s engine sounded a little loud when she’d first arrived, and the rumbling had only become more cantankerous each day. So, I stopped at the auto store the other day and picked up oil.

I pull out the funnel, oil tray, and wrench, setting them down in the center of the garage before pulling the bike out to fiddle with it. Listening to the dirty oil filling the tray beneath the bike, I flex my jaw. God, her ass looked good in her compression shorts, the material so snug it was if they’d been poured over her skin, cupping the rounded globes of her ass with such a firm, steady pressure that I was legitimately envious. The blue had brought out the olive tones in her skin, and I’d been mesmerized by the play of delicate muscle in her thighs and calves.

My skin is on fire, arousal like a razor’s edge along my nerve endings. Keeping busy should’ve been enough to distract me, but damn if every move I make doesn’t feel like her fingernails stroking down the length of my cock. Rubbing one out in my board shorts isn’t usually my definition of a grand ole time, but I’m so horny, almost any sensation is like angel hair on my nut sac.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to resist because I can’t go there. I can’t jerk off to her. I won’t do it.

The throbbing is incessant, bordering on painful. I’ve been so hard for so long, my erection has become my own version of hell. With a gruff sound in the back of my throat, I grab my phone from the work bench and peck at the screen.

I know just what I need because I refuse to spill my load over a cutie with a booty and pretty brown hair. Down that path leads to destruction. In a few seconds, my go-to porn site pops up. Porn has always seemed a little empty, but it gets the job done. I don’t bother searching out anything specific. As soon as I spot the thumbnail of a minxy little blonde, tits exposed and mouth gaping, I click on it.

The blonde on screen spreads herself across a king-sized, four-poster bed. I groan as I hook my board shorts below my throbbing balls, which are taut and drawn up. Another voluptuous blonde joins the first and my palm cups my dick, lightly moving up and down my shaft, my thumb skimming the delicate skin.

I tighten my grip on my shaft and pump a little faster, watching two women devour each other’s mouths, my skin growing hotter. Both women are softer, large breasted, and most importantly, neither looks like Taya.

I grunt, my eyes locked on the screen. My balls are heavy, tingling with the need for release. I keep watching, keep stroking. The moans and whimpers of the girls are musical. But when my eyes unwillingly close, it’s Taya I find. Gripping me. Wet for me. Aching for me.

Pleasure bursts through my whole groin and I groan.

Loudly.

My dick pulses uncontrollably, and I jerk harder and faster, up and down, up and down. When she drops to her knees and those rosy lips part, the moans of the women on my screen now her own, I’m done. My balls tighten, spine arching, a shudder wracking through me. My cock twitches, and with an epic roar, cum jets between my fingers so hard it splatters onto the garage floor.

I grab a roll of nearby paper towels and wipe a sheet across my stomach to clean up. I’m glad I hadn’t hopped into the shower as soon as I got home. Now I can enjoy the afterglow under a spray of hot water. I’m straightening to do just that when the loud metallic clank of keys hitting granite catches my attention. When had she gotten home? The door leading to inside the house is wide open. I hadn’t thought to close it since I’d only planned on waxing my board before getting ready for work.

Had she seen me? Heard me?

My dick twitches at the thrill of her watching. I’m surprised at how much I like the idea. How much I want it to be the case.

No. This can’t happen again. No slippery slopes. They only lead to bigger mistakes. Taya’s temporary. She’s my ticket to getting back into the field and nothing more. And I won’t do anything to make her feel otherwise. I won’t intentionally hurt her.

Chapter Ten

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