Victim of circumstance or has opportunity knocked? The world works in weird ways and if everything that happens has a reason, what is the deeper message behind this?
Why was I at that nightclub in the middle of nowhere on that particular night?
Why did I see what I saw?
Why this particular ship?
Why him?
I stare at the wall in the darkness as I troll the universe for answers. Unable to look at his hidden phone because I don’t know when he’s returning, I’m frustrated. Four hours have passed since I left him at the dining room and he hasn’t come looking for me. Maybe he doesn’t care what happens to me anymore. Maybe I was deluding myself that he ever did. Why should I care either way? I lie for what seems like hours in the darkness as I think.
I hear the key shuffle in the door and I close my eyes and pretend to sleep. He walks in quietly and I feel him stand at the end of the bed for a moment as he watches me. He undresses, goes to the bathroom, and then crawls into bed behind me. I feel my body relax now that he’s home and hopefully I can finally get some sleep. He wraps his large arms around my waist from behind and snuggles into my back. I shouldn’t like the way he feels around me but for some sick reason…
I do.
I don’t remember anything else as I drift into slumber.
* * *
Mac
I wake to the feel of my cock straining to break free from my briefs. God, this thing has a mind of its own when I’m this close to her. I glance over to see she’s awake and lying on her side facing me.
“Hi,” I murmur sleepily.
“Hello.” She smiles softly.
Her long, dark, chocolate hair falls around her shoulders and she has that whole just-woke-up-and-I-need-to-be-fucked vibe going on. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my boxer shorts, and I have never seen something so arousing.
This is why I’m out of your league.
Her cutting words from last night weigh heavily on my shoulders. She’s right. I have no right to her and she has reminded me of just how long it has been since I have been with a decent woman.
She watches me intently and I know she has something on her mind.
“What?” I ask.
She traces a circle on the sheets underneath us with her pointer finger as she contemplates her next question. “Have you…?” She pauses. “Have you always lived this life?” she asks.
I stare at her for a moment. “Have I always been… bad, you mean?”
She nods softly.
I stare at the ceiling above. “No, I haven’t.” I narrow my eyes as I think for a moment. “Actually I take that back. I have always been like this.”
She frowns as if not believing me.
My eyes flicker up to her. “Is this the part where you want me to tell you I’m an undercover cop and I am here to save the world?” I ask.
A trace of a smile crosses her face. “You’re not a cop?”
I smile sleepily. This woman kills me. “No.” I shake my head. “Not a cop.”
“FBI,” she asks, hopefully.
I smirk. Stop being so damn fucking sexy. “No.”
“Special Forces.”