When We Kiss

The alarm on my phone is like a freight train barreling through my room.

“Shut up,” I growl, slapping it off.

I went to bed with the worst case of blue balls I’ve had since ninth grade, and now my head aches. I start to roll over, when fuck me again. Apparently my dick is still ready to party. It’s awake like I’m fourteen and just seeing Pornhub for the first time.

“Tabby…” My voice is thick from sleep and too much alcohol, and I’m pretty sure I dreamt about her all night.

She was right to put on the brakes. It was a first date, for chrissake. Although it feels like we’ve been dancing around each other for a year. Closing my eyes again, I see her walking out in my boxers and tee. She tied the shirt up so I could see a peek of her waist, her cute little navel with a tiny gold loop.

My dick aches harder, and I get up, ripping the covers back and stalking down the hall to my walk-in shower. It only takes a minute to switch on the water and get it warm enough for me to step inside and take care of business.

A squirt of conditioner, and I grasp my aching cock, propping my other hand against the wall and letting my mind travel back to the feel of those tits through my tee. Her nipples were so tight, I wanted one in my mouth. I can taste it.

Her little moans ring in my ears, and the way her soft ass felt in my hands, the way her hips moved as she rocked against me. My hand moves faster, and it won’t take long today. The orgasm races up my legs, tightening my ass and…

“Yes,” I hiss, as it streams out in pulses.

My knees go weak for a moment, and I brace myself as it rolls over me—longing, desire, release. I carefully hold my hand over my now-sensitive dick. Damn, that girl is so sexy. I pull off the shower head and wash the evidence down the drain.

I have to see her again.

It’s probably a bad idea.

Still, we had a great time last night. My initial worry that she might be put off by paint ball melted the minute I saw her sizing up our opponents, competition sparkling in her green eyes. She was adorable, closing her eyes and screaming as she shot. She did pretty damn good. Then, when we we came back here…

Scrubbing shampoo through my hair, I soap up and wash off. I have a short shift this afternoon, then I plan to drop by and see if she’s free tonight. I’ve been guarded, staying out of the mix, keeping my head down. It’s almost as if I’ve been figuratively out to sea.

Now it’s time to come home.

Robbie’s feet are propped on his desk, studying what looks like a legal dossier.

“Nah, I’m just not ready to do it.” Dropping his feet, he grabs a mug of coffee and gives me a nod. “Morning, Chad. How’d it go last night? Tabby like that paint ball idea? I tell you, sometimes these kids just need a hobby.”

“We had fun. What are you looking at there?” As much as I like Robbie Cole, I’m not about to delve into the details of last night with him. He’s as gossipy as Betty Pepper.

“Chad…” he rises out of his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, hands under his armpits. “I’ve decided. I’m not going to retire.”

“Okay.” He’s been saying this every month the closer his retirement date draws. We’re six weeks out, and it’s getting worse.

“I was just looking over the numbers for the county. We’ve got more than enough to give you that raise you were expecting.”

“I’m not worried about the raise. If you want to stay on, stay on.” It helps I have both a hefty trust fund from my grandfather and a nice pension from the military.

“I know you don’t need it, but you were promised a raise. You’re getting a raise.” He nods as if it would be a grave injustice.

As if.

Robbie saved me. He helped me find a way out of that old life before it killed me. I was only a week out of the military, at my parent’s big Welcome Home reception at the Admiral’s Club—their chance to show me off. I was still struggling and he pulled me aside, told me about this place, told me he was retiring in a year if I wanted the job.

I didn’t hesitate. I was gone in less than 24 hours.

“If you give me a raise, I should do more to earn it.” My smile is warm, full of gratitude, although I have no idea what more I can do. This place is like working in Mayberry. Still, I don’t like handouts.

“I’m glad you said that.” He circles back around to his desk, flipping open a different folder. “Part of the reason we’ve had such a nice influx of cash is certain celebrities I won’t name have built houses up on Oceanside Cliffs.”

“Those houses aren’t new.” They’re also pretty much empty most of the year. I’m not sure why they’re even here unless it’s for tax purposes.

“No, but as property values continue to rise, our tax revenue increases.”