Unspoken(94)

“Is that all you think about?”

“No. Sometimes I think about food.” He smirked. His hands crept under my shirt to rub my belly and moved upward to cup my breasts.

“I thought you had to go?” I said breathlessly as he began to drag his thumbs across my suddenly-sensitive nipples.

“Not until I’ve had some breakfast.” Bo dropped to his knees, pushed my shirt up with one hand, and pulled my panties down with the other.

After a heated morning encounter, Bo left me lying drowsily on the bed. I was in no hurry to rise and instead simply rolled over to my side to watch him get ready, my eyes already at half-mast. “Why don’t you go back to sleep?” he suggested as he kissed me good-bye. “I texted you the number to the driver. Call him when you’re ready to leave.” I nodded and rolled over, tucking myself under the downy comforter and drifted off.




HOW MUCH LONGER?

I’m still shopping. I want to have the perfect outfit for tonight.

Stop me the next time I say I have a great idea.

I thought you hated texting?

Then you know much I want you here. Now.

Be patient.

Send me a naughty pic.

So you can share it with your Marine buddies? Forget it.

Those fuckers don’t get to see you like that. For my eyes only.

Here.

Oh shit. Buy the black ones!

My lips curved up into a sly smile. So Bo liked black lace. I picked up the black lace panties and matching strapless bra from the pile that had served as my text picture. “I’ll take these.” I told the sales attendant. She winked at me.

“Got a positive response, did you?”

I couldn’t keep from flushing, but I smiled happily at her. “Yep.”

The hire car was waiting for me when I exited the shopping complex. The instantaneous availability of it was luxurious, but I reminded myself not to get attached to living like this. My mother’s frugality was too deeply ingrained. Back at the hotel, I primped myself like I imagined a bride would before her wedding night. Every part of me was buffed, shaved, and lotioned. I spritzed myself with a light perfume from a sample the fragrance counter had given me. It smelled like the ocean and reminded me of Bo’s eyes when he was happy and at ease.

I pulled my clothes on layer by layer, shivering in anticipation at the gleam in Bo’s gaze when he saw the black lace undergarments I’d bought. I realized my sexual appetite for him had become voracious, but he seemed not to mind. In fact, he reveled in it.

I knew he loved that I wanted him and that I couldn’t wait to rush home after class and throw him down and ravish him. He encouraged me to do it; he encouraged me to explore sex in ways that I thought I’d be too shy to do before I met him. I loved going down on him, feeling his thickness in my mouth, feeling him shake helplessly when I brought him to climax. I enjoyed his lavish attention to my body. While the morning quickies were delicious, it wasn’t anything like the nights when he took to exploring every inch of my body.

The thoughts of Bo and I rolling around naked in my bed, his bed, this hotel room bed, carried me into the bar on a wave of anticipation. I saw Bo’s eyes alight on me almost immediately when I stepped out onto the patio where he sat with what seemed like a whole platoon of Marines, all except one sporting their distinct haircuts, which Bo had told me was a “high and tight.”

He didn’t wait like a potentate for me to come to him, running a power play in front of his friends. He got up immediately and came over to kiss me, not a social peck on the lips but an open-mouthed one that smeared my lip gloss all over the both of us. Breaking the kiss, he drew a thumb across my lower lip, wiping off the last of the gloss. I ineptly tried to rub the shiny substance off his mouth, but without a wet napkin, his lips looked glossy.

Bo didn’t care, even though the table hazed him when he sauntered back, one arm wrapped around my waist.

“Boys, this is AM. AM, the One-Ten.”

A round of glasses and bottles met at the middle as they toasted in unison, “The Death Bringers. Ooorah!” Then they drained their respective drinks and slammed down the containers as if one. I guessed they were. Bo pulled out an empty chair next to the one guy whose hair had grown out slightly, as if he’d somehow skipped out on the last trip to the barber. When I sat, Bo reclined next to me.

“What does One-Ten mean?” I asked.

“First Battalion, Tenth Marines. There are thirty-eight battalions in the entire Marine Corps,” Bo explained, handing me a bottle of beer from the large bucket of ice in the middle of the round table. He turned and signaled a waitress for a refill of the bucket. “And it just kind of signifies where we’re stationed, who gets to order us around. That sort of thing.”