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Instead, she slides around me and attempts to plant her lips on mine. She grinds her pelvis into me so I almost want to gag.
“Hell no!” I shout. I push her away, forcefully, but trying to maintain enough composure that I don’t give her an excuse to be able to later accuse me of being physical with her. I throw back the door and walk two steps outside the house. I put my hands on my hips. “You need to leave. Right now.”
“I’m going to stay the night,” she says. “I promised to make Caden pancakes in the morning. Besides, you’ll see, if you just let me—”
“It’s not going to happen,” I say with a growing rage. “You really need to leave. You can pick him up at school tomorrow.”
“You’re making a huge mistake,” she growls.
“No,” I say, “Not this time. I’m going to do everything right.”
She leaves, eventually, but not until I've threatened to call the MPs to witness her behavior.
An hour later, alone in my room, and unable to sleep, I wonder if it’s too late to send Rylie a text. I decide to risk it. Hopefully, I won’t wake her. If she’s up, maybe we can talk for a bit. I’m yearning for her company. For every last inch of her.
Are you still up?
No response and I assume she’s sleeping, which is what I need to be doing. I have an early one tomorrow and piles of intense work sitting on my desk. Rylie’s body fills my thoughts as I close my eyes and will sleep to come. Memories of her touch stir me. My cock starts to lift, tenting the sheet and it’s a while before I fall into a restless sleep.
The next day at the office, I realize around lunch time that I still haven’t heard back from Rylie. It’s strange, and unlike her, so I text her again.
Did you sleep okay? I need to get together soon. Tonight?
I’m relieved when this time, her response pops right back. Maybe the first never landed last night. I swipe my phone open.
Don’t contact me ever again
My pulse fires like a jackhammer as my heart constricts. What the fuck happened? My hands shake as I attempt to compose a reply to the shocking message I just read. My skin’s too tight, my stomach’s in knots.
Baby, what happened? Talk to me, please
I receive no response.
For the next couple of days, I go to work like a zombie. I’ve had no contact from Rylie despite dialing her line a thousand times. No way can I blow this up by asking Frank about his daughter. I try to concentrate on work when I’m in the office and on being with Caden when we’re at home. I can’t figure out what happened with Rylie and I attempt to recreate our last few conversations to see if I missed any hidden clues.
Nothing comes to mind.
I’ve sent her a ton of texts, an email and called her line. I must be coming off like a crazed stalker, so I decide I need to let her make the next move. I don’t like that one bit and sleep eludes me every night as I toss around missing her with memories of her warm skin and beautiful smile. What the fuck happened to make her bolt?
I make it to Friday with the bags packing under my eyes. After our team meeting, I get up to lave with the others but Frank calls me back.
“Shut the door and have a seat.” I do as the CO commands and start to speak but he holds up a finger halting me.
He reaches to press a button on his phone. I realize he’s flipped it to speaker when I hear Rylie’s voice. What the….?
“I’m fine, Dad,” she says.
My heart races and pounds. Her voice re-triggers my loneliness. I can’t believe how badly I miss her.
“Your flight was okay?” he asks.
Her flight? Where’d she go?
I have a million questions, but I can’t betray my emotions in front of her father, especially not here. I fight the urge to excuse myself, hearing her voice is heart-wrenching.
“Yeah, we had a slight delay in Los Angeles,” she continues over the phone, “but the flight was smooth. Mom’s scheduled a million things for me to do, I don’t know how she manages to fit everything in, but she does.”
“She’d have made a good commander,” Frank says, “if she’d have married the Army instead of me.”
