Camouflaged Hearts Anthology Read online

  "I'm ... I ... I'm...” Her words were garbled. Her actions weren't. Ayanna tightened her legs as her back arched in time with her climax. The waves of pleasure sailing through her propelled Michael over the edge of the cliff he'd been teetering upon. He came with a gravelled shout, his eruption longer than it had ever been before.

  Collapsing beside her, he kissed her then disposed of the condom before gathering her back into his arms. They both lay in silence as their hearts slowed and their breathing returned to normal.

  He knew they had the night and he wanted to enjoy her luscious body as much as he could. He also realised something else.

  Something more meaningful than just sex had happened between them. More powerful than the flames that erupted where they'd touched, the intense experience between them had an undercurrent of destiny. It was almost as if the fates had tipped their hand and brought them together.

  Ayanna was boneless and limp. And unsure. This was supposed to just be a good session of sex—which it had been—but her invading emotions threw her. The only thing she was sure of was that she wanted more. More of the pleasure Michael brought her.

  His penis hardened against her as his lips moved over her ear. “Take a shower with me."

  "Okay,” she agreed. I can't get enough of his touch.

  They walked to the bathroom, heedless of the clothes scattered on the floor of her hotel room. The heat lamp was switched on along with the fan before Michael turned on the water.

  When he faced her, her breathing hitched. Goosebumps popped up along her body. His eyes watched her and they looked sleepy, but she knew ... she knew they were anything but. Her own gaze moved up and down his hard, naked body. His mouth-wateringly handsome body.

  Unbidden, she reached for his fully erect cock and wrapped her fingers around it. His hiss of pleasure reached her, but she ignored it. She focused on what she held.

  She swiped her thumb over the tip of the swollen head and it jumped in her palm. In her peripheral vision, Michael's hand clenched. She moved her other hand along the shaft, slipping down to the nest of dark hair at the base and up until it met the one that teased the head of his cock.

  Drops of pre-cum were smeared with each pass of her thumb over his hard rod. It was like touching steel covered by warm silk. Ayanna dropped to her knees on the plush bathroom rug and replaced her thumb with her mouth. Her hands shifted down, one on his thick shaft and the other caressing his balls.

  "Ayanna!” Michael's voice was hoarse. His rigid posture exposed the tendons of his neck.

  Running her tongue under the bulbous head of his cock, Ayanna hummed against him vibrating the tip. But instead of waiting for a reply she moved down the shaft, taking more and more of him into her mouth. She continued to tease his scrotum as her mouth alternated its pressure.

  He pumped his hips, driving himself into her while she kept her eyes on his face. His shout announced his release as he came deep in her throat. Before the sound faded, he had pulled her from the floor, kissed her, took her in the shower and proceeded to fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

  The water cascading around them only added to the pleasure. The steam made it more exotic. Michael gripped her hips, as she faced him, her back against the wall.

  He pulled out of her seconds before he came and spilled his seed onto the dark skin of her belly, only to have it washed away seconds later by the shower. Afterward, she let him carry her back to bed where he loved her all over again.

  Every muscle ached, but this man was like a drug. She craved more. It was going to be hard to walk away in the morning.

  As she rode him at her own pace, she looked at him again. His eyes spoke of more than just a one-night stand. Neither of them seemed to remember he wasn't wearing a condom. Neither of them seemed to care.

  In the morning, however, when Ayanna woke, sore but content, she was alone. There was no sign of Michael Taylor anywhere. Staring at her reflection in the mirror she smiled sadly.

  "That's what happens when you agree to a one-night stand."

  Chapter One

  Michael opened the purse he'd found and searched for some identification so he could have the owner paged. As his tanned fingers slipped through the interior they passed a book of American poets—Edgar Allen Poe, Langston Hughes, Robert Frost, Walt Whitman, and more. He found a container of orange breath mints. A playbill for one of his favourite shows, The Phantom of the Opera, was crumpled up on the bottom and under that, he finally found an identification card. He immediately recognised the woman pictured on the Exchange employee card. She worked in the flower shop, but he'd seen her in the bookstore, as well.

  Standing, he curled one hand over the muted purple purse and headed for the door. Not even the loud roar of the F-18s and other aircraft flying overhead distracted him from his ‘mission'. As a pilot stationed here at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach, the sounds were all common place to him.

  Crossing the parking lot of NAS Oceana's main Navy Exchange, Michael fought the grin which almost crossed his suntanned face as he watched a few children walk past him in their ‘I (heart) Jet Noise’ tees. He knew he was receiving strange looks from people as he walked in the Exchange, carrying a purse, with no woman beside him, and for some reason it didn't bother him. Today was a good day.

  It was summer in Virginia. Everything was hot, so it was nice to enter the air-conditioned building. He breathed a bit easier without all the humidity in the air. Moving past the beauty salon, barbershop, GNC, and the bookstore, he headed directly to the floral department where he saw the woman he searched for.

  "Can I help you?” she asked, coming toward him.

  "I believe you dropped this outside, Ma'am."

  "Oh, my goodness. I couldn't find it. It must have fallen out of my bag. I've been looking everywhere for my card to swipe, and I didn't...” she trailed off, apparently realising she was rambling. Clearing her throat, she muttered, “Thank you so much...?"

  He smiled at her. “Taylor. Lieutenant Michael Taylor."

  * * * *

  In the bookstore, Ayanna smiled at the customers she was helping and handed them their purchases. “Have a great day,” she said as they walked away.

  Her gaze moved back across the corridor to the flower shop where a handsome man talked to Lauren. His faded jeans seemed to mould themselves to his lower half. A beige shirt hugged his torso and defined his upper arms as it conformed to them. A whisper of familiarity skated across her skin, but she shook it off.

  "Figures,” she muttered to herself. “She's either getting a dinner date or he's buying flowers for his wife.” Allowing herself one lingering look at the dark-haired man, she walked over to a box of new inventory waiting for her attention and got back to work.

  As she finished putting the last book on the stand specifically for military reading, Lauren entering the bookstore with a silly grin on her face as she walked.

  "Hey, Ayanna,” she said in her typical, upbeat manner.

  "Lauren,” Ayanna responded with a grin. “I saw that handsome man hanging over your counter."

  A blush moved up her friend's face. “Oh, that ... that was Lieutenant Taylor."

  "Ooohhhh,” Ayanna teased. “And what are you doing with him later? Or should I say to him."

  I knew a Taylor once, but that was a different lifetime ago.

  "Shut up, you. He was returning my purse, well your purse. He was very impressed with its contents. The playbill, the poetry book..."

  "Why would he be impressed with that?"

  "I guess he doesn't meet many people who read American poets anymore."

  Ayanna rolled her eyes. “And I suppose you told him the lead in Phantom was just so dreamy.” The deepening flush on Lauren's face gave her the answer. Ayanna shook her head. She'd let Lauren borrow the purse for a date and was still waiting on the return of her items. Things she'd forgotten were in the purse at the time. “Shame on you for trying to pass off those things as yours."

  "Well, I was
just trying to make an impression."

  Ayanna burst out laughing. She couldn't help it. “Can you even tell me one of the poets in that book?"

  Collagen-injected lips pursed as Lauren thought.

  With a friendly yet knowing smirk, Ayanna patted Lauren's arm as she moved to the counter and the customer who waited there.

  Fifteen minutes later, Ayanna sat down outside the Exchange at the small table and took out her lunch. A few moments later, Lauren joined her and they chatted easily while they ate.

  "Is Erma dropping off Devon today?"

  Ayanna smiled. “Yes. Yes, she is."

  Devon Lamar Barker was her three-year-old son. Back when all she'd cared about were parties, she'd had gone to a Thunderbirds air show demonstration with a friend in Albuquerque while on a break from undergraduate school.

  And had gotten pregnant.

  There'd been a huge party. Lots to see. Lots to do. Well, only one for Ayanna. She'd met him at the beer tent. His name was Michael Kelly Taylor.

  He was a handsome man. A few inches over six feet. Golden tan skin, all over. His hair was mocha brown and soft to touch. His dark, sensual, chocolaty gaze had felt like satin when it had touched her. He was beautifully constructed—a body that belonged in a sculptor's studio, chiselled from granite or marble. Yet, his touch had been warm and tender.

  He'd told her he was staying in Albuquerque at Kirkland Air Force Base. She hadn't known what that meant exactly, but she'd gathered he was military. And assumed Air Force.

  Honestly, she didn't care. It was a combination of things. The evening air, the buzz from alcohol, the fact she was wild and impulsive. All combined, it had left her with no desire to leave his presence. Topping it all had been how the mere touch of his callused fingers sent tremors through her body.

  Michael had kept her cradled against his chest during the firework display that had rounded out the night's festivities, his body keeping the cool desert air at bay. The memory of that night was imprinted on her soul.

  "Ayanna, are you listening to me?"

  Blinking rapidly, Ayanna shook her head, dragged back to the moment. “Sorry Lauren, I got lost there for a sec."

  "From the dreamy expression on your face, I'd bet it was a guy."

  Ayanna blushed. “Yeah, it was."

  "Who?” Lauren asked, more than ready to dish some dirt with her friend.

  "Devon's father."

  A blonde eyebrow rose. “You haven't ever talked much about him. I guess I always assumed your relationship had ended badly."

  A short bark of laughter slipped out. “Relationship? Let's just say I was being ‘liberated’ and such. Went to the Thunderbirds air show and the fireworks afterward. The rest was history."

  Lauren opened and shut her mouth. “Is Devon's father military?” Her head cocked to the side in question.

  Ayanna shrugged. “He said he was staying at Kirkland. To be honest ... I didn't care. I was at lot younger then, still trying to figure out what I wanted to do."

  Lauren smirked. “Since I've met Devon, I'd say you did do something you wanted to."

  Running a hand down her face, Ayanna narrowed her eyes. Leaning forward, she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “I did and it was wonderful. I have never, and I mean never, felt like that."

  "What happened between you two?” Lauren asked.

  "What do you mean? We had a wonderful night and then ... parted ways."

  "I mean, why didn't you tell him about Devon?"

  "I didn't know until I was two months pregnant.” Ayanna smoothed out her sandwich bag and put it back into her lunch container. “I had to settle down and get my life in order—and fast—so that's what I did."

  "Were you scared he wouldn't—"

  "No,” Ayanna interrupted. “I didn't even think about him at all. The second I got the news I was pregnant, my whole world shifted. It was all about the precious life I carried. And has been ever since. Having Devon is the greatest thing that could have happened to me. Sure, I wish circumstances had been different. Like marriage beforehand, but it didn't happen that way."

  She placed her empty water bottle inside the container as well. “I wasn't anywhere near New Mexico and didn't have extra money to attempt to find him. Okay, perhaps I was scared of rejection.” Ayanna fiddled with her lunch box. “Perhaps I was scared to hear anything negative out of his mouth. I wanted to remember him as he was when we spent the night together. Passionate. Sexual. Erotic. Not angry and accusing. I had enough on my plate to deal with."

  Lauren smiled softly and reached her hand across the round wire table. “I'm glad we became friends. And I am going to stop questioning you about this, because—” She pointed to the left.

  Ayanna followed her friend's finger with her gaze and smiled. Erma, her babysitter who was really more like a grandmother, and her son were heading toward them. Devon churned his little legs as fast as he could, a silly grin on his face.

  Standing, she started to walk to him.

  "Ayanna? Ayanna, is that you?"

  Looking behind her, she met the gaze of the person who called out to her and froze. Staring back at her was the most sensual pair of dark chocolate eyes she'd seen in her life.

  Michael Kelly Taylor.

  Dear sweet Jesus. Am I imagining him? How come he still looks so damn good?

  She allowed her gaze to roam over his body. Everything around her faded as his stare touched her like the lover he'd been to her that one wonderful night. Her lower body reacted much the same way it had the night they had met. Suddenly, she grew damp. Her hand touched the base of her throat. All it takes is a look and I am ready. Ready for him to ... Mentally shaking the direction of those thoughts away, Ayanna fought to moisturise her dry throat. How is it when my mouth goes dry my pussy is drenched?

  "Michael?” she murmured.

  The afternoon sun glinted off his dark hair. Those muscles covering his body were more defined than they had been before. His body rippled with power and the promise of safety.

  In slow motion, she took in his jeans and the shirt and realised he was the same man who'd returned her purse to Lauren. The same man who'd given her more pleasure than anyone had a right to experience.

  He stepped closer. “Ayanna?"

  Michael couldn't believe it. The last time he'd seen Ayanna, she'd been sound asleep in the king-sized bed of her room at the Marriott. Her naked body had contrasted beautifully with the light sheets that had covered her.

  He'd sat beside her and stroked her hair. She'd murmured incoherently and snuggled further into the feather duvet, never waking. Trailing a finger along her jaw line, he'd whispered, “Goodbye, Ayanna,” and left. Like any man would after a one-night stand.

  He hadn't wanted to leave her but his leave was up and he'd needed to get back to work. Before they'd ended up in the bed, he'd asked her where she was from. She'd hedged with her answer.

  That hadn't mattered. The second his hand had brushed the small of her back in the beer tent line, he'd been lost. The nutmeg tone of her skin had seemed to surround the lighter tan of his and cradle it. The jolt that rocketed through his body at that simple touch had amazed him.

  He'd made love to her, and for the moment she had soothed the restlessness inside him. And now, she was before him in a different state and looking better than ever. I haven't experienced anything remotely close since the night in her arms. I want that back.

  She'd changed her hair. Now springy curls moved with each motion she made. She wore dark blue jeans and a floral top that only fastened on one dark, creamy shoulder, leaving the other one bare. She was curvier than he remembered, and he longed to explore her new body. Wanted to bury his face in the side of her neck and relearn her scent all over again.

  "Ayanna?” he asked again, noticing how her eyes kept flickering to the side. Following her line of sight, he spied an older woman walking with one of the cutest little boys he had ever seen.

  The child wore a tank top with a picture of a basketball
on it. The shorts he wore matched the colours of the top. His head was shaved almost bald, but there were telltale signs of growth. However, it was the sparkle in his dark eyes and a smile that stood out against his brown skin that brought a grin to Michael's face.

  The fierce concentration on the young man's face was apparent, but so was the joy he had as he walked in the afternoon sun toward his goal. One small hand reached out and his fingers wiggled with anticipation. From his lips poured the word “Mama” over and over again.

  Michael experienced a serious pang of envy when Ayanna turned and opened her arms to the overjoyed child. Of course, such an adorable child would have a stunning mother. She went down on one knee and embraced the little boy. As her arms wrapped around his body, she stood back up. She glanced at Michael over her shoulder before returning her complete attention to the woman who'd walked with the child.

  Glancing down at the table where Ayanna had been sitting, he noticed the clerk from the floral shop. He moved toward her and stood near the chair Ayanna had left. Lauren's eyes focused on him.

  "Do you know her well?” Michael asked without looking at her, opting instead to watch Ayanna.

  "Yes, Lieutenant, I do.” Lauren stood, as well, and watched him as if she'd just figured out a huge secret.

  "Is she married? Is that her child?” The questions rattled from him as quickly as if fired from a semi-automatic gun. Logically, he knew it was her child, but part of him refused to accept it.

  He didn't wait for an answer. Three long strides placed him beside Ayanna.

  It was sweltering out and yet this woman smelled fresh. He recognised the smell of her soap. It was light and gentle, soothing like baby powder.

  She stiffened and he knew she'd sensed him. His eyes moved to the hand splayed on the boy's back. No wedding ring.

  She's not wearing a ring, his mind crowed.

  This woman was his destiny.

  "Hello, Ayanna."