ordered-dinner-in-and-ate-it-at-her-desk late. She didn’t want to go home to grating silences, forced politeness and Dash’s keen gaze following her through the bungalow. Her office was a safe zone. Once she stepped over that threshold, she might as well shout olly olly oxen free.
She wasn’t free in her mind.
Dash haunted her. The possibilities versus the opportunities. How audacious would he really be? More than that, how audacious did she want him to be?
Jake had treated her with sympathy all week. He’d been kind and gentle, like she was breakable and fragile. She should want that. She should like it—being cosseted in the ways she’d lacked through years of deployments and training and time on her own. Those times when he was safe at home, Dash displayed versions of cheer—few of which she could believe.
She should have been able to tell if her husband was happy or not. Whether he was serious or not—other than the times he pushed her face into the carpet or made her gag on his cock.
She coughed into a loose fist as she stepped out of her office. The parking lot was empty but well lit, even beyond the bright white desert moon that shone down on the black asphalt. Her dark red Acura sedan was the very last vehicle. A feeling of being watched made the hairs across the back of her neck crawl.
She eyed the security cameras underneath the yellow arc lights. There was another above the front entrance. Contractors had needed to install them when the front windows were broken two elections back.
They were a measure of comfort now. Maybe.
Truth be known, part of her wished they weren’t there. Dash wouldn’t come for her anywhere with cameras. They were walking through fire, but they had careers and families to protect. She ought to be relieved.
She wasn’t. Instead she was frustrated and buzzing inside her skin. She wanted . Wanted in a desperate, craving, needy sort of way. The new feeling didn’t sit well. Her bones were so tense they should’ve cracked by now.
Climbing into her car, she forcibly shook off the nerves that clamored to own her. Nothing owned Sunny Christiansen, especially not an arrogant pilot and the amorphous, disturbed desires he provoked.
That meant she’d do exactly what she wanted, which was to stop at her favorite little organic grocery store. She needed tea, and last time she was home she’d run out of her favorite summer berry and lemon verbena jelly. No chance Dash had thought to replace it. Then she could lock herself in the bedroom with tea and jelly on toast and watch something brainless.
Yeah. Right. Like Dash would roll over and take that. The forced politeness would only last so long. She’d felt the monster growing between them with every tense shared breath.
The lot behind the market wasn’t empty. Instead, the dusty blacktop was covered with all sorts of vehicles. She managed to squeeze between a primer-colored sedan and a pickup that was so big it barely fit between the fading white lines.
Inside the tiny market, it smelled like home. Maybe that was what she needed. She could head back to Portland for a while and stay with her parents. If she didn’t have so much work to do, she might’ve already made that decision. She could at least visit Kannadiga Center and catch up with the friends she’d made in Vegas. They all lived busy lives, but Bangalore was the home of their shared culture. A taste of that safety would be more than welcome.
After gathering crispy treats to go with her tea and a jar of the dark red jelly, she was in and out in no time. She could’ve taken longer. Maybe she should have chatted with the clerk when the young man had smiled at her. It wasn’t like she was in any rush to get home, but her restlessness killed the impulse to stay.
Back outside, she fished her key fob out of her purse. Head down, she noticed that the skinny straps of the cloth sack dug into the flesh above her wrist. That flesh was still tender.
Dash stepped out from
She wasn’t free in her mind.
Dash haunted her. The possibilities versus the opportunities. How audacious would he really be? More than that, how audacious did she want him to be?
Jake had treated her with sympathy all week. He’d been kind and gentle, like she was breakable and fragile. She should want that. She should like it—being cosseted in the ways she’d lacked through years of deployments and training and time on her own. Those times when he was safe at home, Dash displayed versions of cheer—few of which she could believe.
She should have been able to tell if her husband was happy or not. Whether he was serious or not—other than the times he pushed her face into the carpet or made her gag on his cock.
She coughed into a loose fist as she stepped out of her office. The parking lot was empty but well lit, even beyond the bright white desert moon that shone down on the black asphalt. Her dark red Acura sedan was the very last vehicle. A feeling of being watched made the hairs across the back of her neck crawl.
She eyed the security cameras underneath the yellow arc lights. There was another above the front entrance. Contractors had needed to install them when the front windows were broken two elections back.
They were a measure of comfort now. Maybe.
Truth be known, part of her wished they weren’t there. Dash wouldn’t come for her anywhere with cameras. They were walking through fire, but they had careers and families to protect. She ought to be relieved.
She wasn’t. Instead she was frustrated and buzzing inside her skin. She wanted . Wanted in a desperate, craving, needy sort of way. The new feeling didn’t sit well. Her bones were so tense they should’ve cracked by now.
Climbing into her car, she forcibly shook off the nerves that clamored to own her. Nothing owned Sunny Christiansen, especially not an arrogant pilot and the amorphous, disturbed desires he provoked.
That meant she’d do exactly what she wanted, which was to stop at her favorite little organic grocery store. She needed tea, and last time she was home she’d run out of her favorite summer berry and lemon verbena jelly. No chance Dash had thought to replace it. Then she could lock herself in the bedroom with tea and jelly on toast and watch something brainless.
Yeah. Right. Like Dash would roll over and take that. The forced politeness would only last so long. She’d felt the monster growing between them with every tense shared breath.
The lot behind the market wasn’t empty. Instead, the dusty blacktop was covered with all sorts of vehicles. She managed to squeeze between a primer-colored sedan and a pickup that was so big it barely fit between the fading white lines.
Inside the tiny market, it smelled like home. Maybe that was what she needed. She could head back to Portland for a while and stay with her parents. If she didn’t have so much work to do, she might’ve already made that decision. She could at least visit Kannadiga Center and catch up with the friends she’d made in Vegas. They all lived busy lives, but Bangalore was the home of their shared culture. A taste of that safety would be more than welcome.
After gathering crispy treats to go with her tea and a jar of the dark red jelly, she was in and out in no time. She could’ve taken longer. Maybe she should have chatted with the clerk when the young man had smiled at her. It wasn’t like she was in any rush to get home, but her restlessness killed the impulse to stay.
Back outside, she fished her key fob out of her purse. Head down, she noticed that the skinny straps of the cloth sack dug into the flesh above her wrist. That flesh was still tender.
Dash stepped out from
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