Camouflaged Hearts Anthology Read online

  Family. My family. Michael smiled.

  Racer stepped up next to him and said, “You got it made, man. Don't fuck this up. That is one special woman you have there."

  "I'm beginning to realise just how special,” Michael agreed in a low tone as the women continued to have a wonderful time.

  * * * *

  Ayanna couldn't dwell on Michael. She had to study for her finals. Her husband and Racer were off playing golf. Lauren was downstairs playing with Devon. Ayanna couldn't waste time.

  Despite how wonderful it had been to be back in Michael's arms, she was determined not to succumb to her desire again. She had to focus on her schooling and her son not how good being with Michael was. With him gone with his friend, her body had a momentary reprieve from the temptation wrapped in the sinful package called Lieutenant Michael Kelly Taylor. That arrogant pilot, amazing father, husband, and wonderful lover had the power to distract her from her goals and she couldn't let that happen.

  She opened her books. Last night with Michael had been amazing, but now her studies had first priority. Immersing herself, it hardly registered when Lauren came to tell her Michael was back and she was leaving. A few hours later, Ayanna closed the book and groaned. Rolling her shoulders, she rubbed her eyes. She pushed away from the desk and went to check on Devon who was napping.

  She froze when she heard voices coming from downstairs.

  She recognised Michael's voice and the other sounded familiar. Feminine and high pitched. Ayanna wrapped her arms around her middle as it clicked. This was the woman who'd waylaid Michael on base the day he'd landed back into her life. Bridget or something like that.

  Ayanna knew better than to eavesdrop, but she couldn't bring herself to give them privacy. Deep fear settled in her gut. Close on its heels was jealousy.

  "I know Papa will be so happy that we're a couple,” Bridget's voice carried to Ayanna's ears.

  "We aren't a couple, Bridget. I told you that a long time ago. I'm sorry you and your mother believe we should be. I'm not available,” Michael said.

  Ayanna began to walk down the stairs. A calculating gleam appeared in Bridget's eyes as she saw her.

  "But, Michael, I'm pregnant. About seven weeks ... and ... oh, I didn't know you had a guest.” Bridget covered her mouth and tried to look embarrassed.

  Michael turned around and met Ayanna's gaze.

  She forced herself to maintain a bland expression. “Don't mind me,” she said softly. “I'm just going to the kitchen.

  He followed her. “Ayanna, wait,” he insisted.

  "No, Michael. I'd say you have something important to discuss with that woman.” She waved him off and walked to the fridge to grab a bottled water before heading back upstairs.

  I knew this was too good to be true.

  Minutes later, she heard the door slam and feet pounding up the stairs. Taking a drink of her water, she gathered her inner strength and waited for her door to open.

  She didn't have long to wait. Michael swung it open without even knocking. “Let me explain."

  "I don't think I need an explanation. I'm fully aware of how that works. I was there. Although I found out at eight weeks, but still.” She shrugged, determined not to show how hurt she was.

  "She's lying. Well, perhaps not about being pregnant, but if she is, it isn't mine.” Michael shut the door behind him and walked over to stand in front of her.

  Ayanna kept her eyes on water bottle in her hand. “Whatever. As long as you don't try and gyp Devon of anything, what you do is your business.” She understood that the part of her prone to ruining good things was rearing its ugly head.

  "What are you saying?” he demanded as the bottle was removed from her hand and he forced an eye connection.

  "We both know the only reason you married me was for convenience. And I appreciate what you've done for me and Devon. But—"

  His eyes grew hard as ice and colder than that. “Shut up, Ayanna. Don't even go down that fucking road. This marriage is a marriage not a goddamn convenience.” He clenched his jaw. “Maybe at first, in the beginning.” He relaxed and a brief grin flashed across his face. “No, not even then. I've always known I wanted something more from you."

  "No, it's wrong.” Her heart swelled at what she heard. Could he be for real?

  "What's wrong about it, Ayanna?” Exasperation slammed full force back into his voice. “I'll give you this, it started off in a unique way, but,” he took her hands, “it's real now. This. You. Me. Devon. This is real. We are a family."

  "And Bridget?” Ayanna recognised the desperation in her voice. But, she had to know.

  "That was just Bridget being Bridget. I have never even screwed her."

  Her eyes searched his. He seems so certain about what he says. Why can't I believe him? “I just don't know,” she protested.

  "What? What are you doubting? And why? The fact I was stupid to leave you that first night? And that you think I'm doing this because I feel guilty about you having to struggle with Devon for a few years? You're right, I do feel guilty. I should have been there. I should have married you that night. Part of me wanted to.” She swallowed as he took her hands. “Marrying you has never been a regret. Ever. I love Devon.” He made sure she couldn't pull away. “And I love you."

  Her belly filled with butterflies. He loves me. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth. I can't say it yet. I ... I ... I just can't.

  She pulled a hand free from his hold and trailed it down the side of his face before gathering his shirt below his Adam's apple. “Good,” she ground out. “The next hussy who comes to the door and claims that, is gonna get her ass beat. Clear?"

  Michael smiled as he kissed her. “Yes, my wife. Understood.” Standing, he pulled her against his broad chest. He glanced at the book of American poets, he had seen in that purple purse the day his life had changed for the better. “Now, do you have time ... for your husband or do you have more studying to do?"

  Time for my husband? So much for no repeats of sleeping with him. She tilted her head. Was that why he said he loved me?

  Her pussy clenched. Oh, to hell with it. I want him. “Well,” she purred as her hands slid around his waist. “I could study you, you know, perhaps do a little art appreciation.” She licked her lips and demurely lowered her lashes.

  "Little? A little art appreciation?” he growled as he bent her backwards and nibbled on her jaw line.

  "I believe that was the word I used. But ... care to prove me wrong?” Her fingers dug into his corded forearms as he bent her further.

  "Oh, hell yeah. We'll see how little you think he is."

  "Such talk.” Lifting her head, Ayanna met his gaze. “Just take me to bed, Michael."

  "Yes, my beautiful wife. I think I should take you to bed. Then you can apologise to him for calling him little."

  Ayanna held his gaze as her hands untied the drawstring on his shorts and pushed them down. “You're right,” she cooed. “I should apologise."

  Michael muttered incoherently.

  Her hands held his erection. “You know, you were right about something else.” She dropped to her knees. “He's not little at all.” Fingers stroked along the length. “It's like velvet over iron."

  "Ayanna."

  "Hush. I'm apologising.” She kissed the head of his dick, smiling as it leapt in response. “I'm sorry.” Her mouth engulfed it, tongue swiping across the top, cleaning away the pre-cum.

  Settling more comfortably on her knees, she began to slide him in and out of her mouth. “Ah hell, Ayanna,” he groaned from above her.

  One hand rested upon a corded thigh while the other reached between his legs to tease his balls. Her wet mouth slipped up and down. She removed her mouth and wrapped her hands back around him, cradling him between her soft palms. Stroking him up and down, moving easy with her saliva that was there.

  "Fuck. I want to come.” His voice grated.

  "Shhh. I'm not done with my apology.” One hand fisted around him and moved fa
ster while her gaze remained focused on the cock before her. Everything on him is beautiful.

  He moaned, fists clenching, hips beginning to thrust. “I'm about to come."

  Licking her lips, she put the head of his dick back in her mouth, her tongue ran along the edge. She tightened the circle her hand made near the base and began milking him.

  A deep growl erupted as thick, salty ejaculate filled her mouth. Michael pumped his hips as he came furiously in her mouth.

  When there was no more to swallow, she sat back and grinned at him. “I hope he accepts my apology."

  Michael stared at her. He couldn't do anything else. Ayanna licked her lips as if she'd just finished the most scrumptious sundae. She looked up at him with those sexy brown eyes, that saucy grin and a look of such satisfaction on her face.

  His cock twitched as his eyes moved over her still-moist lips. The tops of her breasts tempted him. Even her ears tempted him. I am the luckiest man in the world.

  He assisted her up off the floor and kissed her. His tongue swept like a river through her mouth. Stepping out of his shorts, he lifted her, placing her legs around his waist. He walked to the door and shut it before returning to Ayanna's bed.

  He dropped her on the bed. Her eyes widened as she bounced. He groaned as her breasts jiggled inside her shirt. He jerked his shirt off, tossing it to the side. “Get your sexy body on your hands and knees."

  "What?” Her question floated through the air.

  "You heard me. Hands and knees and stay by the end of the mattress. I wanna see that ass in the air.” His order was sharp. He noticed an immediate flush to her skin. Her plump lips parted with excitement.

  Ayanna did as he ordered. Stroking one hand along his hard-on, he lifted her skirt and groaned. She wore no panties. “You are such a naughty wench. No panties. Jesus, Ayanna,” he mumbled, “your pussy is so wet."

  He rested her skirt on the small of her back, exposing her totally to him. One finger teased her cleft as he continued to move closer to his own piece of heaven. As his finger moved, she looked at him over her shoulder and blinked once. A slow blink before facing forward.

  Michael ran the head of his cock between her lips, drenching it with her juices. He thrust once and sheathed himself totally within her.

  "Oh my God!” she wailed as her head dropped toward the mattress.

  "Come on my cock, baby,” he ordered. He drilled into her faster and faster. He shut his eyes on the sight of her ass shaking in front of him as his balls tightened. He pounded harder. The walls of her tight pussy clenched around him as she climaxed.

  A roar erupted from him as he exploded inside her. Sweat ran from his body to hers as his limbs shook. He collapsed on her, pressing her body into the mattress while they fought to regain their breath. Then he pulled out and moved them up further on the bed to spoon them together.

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Michael stood under the spray of the shower head. Fabulous memories of making love to her filled his mind as he turned off the water. He had to get her into his bedroom. He wanted it all with Ayanna. Not just snatches of her love. As he dried off, he ran through how to tell her. Pulling on a pair of clean khakis, he looked in the mirror. I know she responds to me, but how does she truly feel about me? How can I be so sure about my feelings and yet she seems so hesitant?

  He ran the towel over his short hair then reached for a black shirt and tugged it over his head. Hanging up his towel then leaving the bathroom, he went downstairs still trying to figure out what he was going to do about his wife.

  Chapter Five

  Michael smiled with the rush he felt as his F/A-18 Super Hornet took to the sky. He loved it up here. Was it possible for life to get any better? Being a pilot was ... indescribable.

  "You okay up there, Taz?” Racer asked from behind. “You're awfully quiet."

  "Just enjoying the view, Racer. Just enjoying the view."

  "Sure you are. You're probably trying to come up with some way to get that wife of yours up here and inducted into the mile-high club."

  Male laughter reached his ears and Michael knew the rest of the squadron was listening in. They'd all surprised him and Ayanna last week when they'd stopped by his home to meet his wife and son. They'd come with their significant others and families, bringing food and a cake. Michael had been very pleased at how welcoming they'd been to Ayanna and Devon.

  Now that it was just the guys, it was time for the ribbing to begin anew. They'd already been merciless to him when they'd found out he'd kept Ayanna a secret from them.

  "Well, if I thought there was a way to accomplish that in this cockpit, I'd sure do it,” Michael retorted. An image of Ayanna naked in his plane impaled on his cock was a helluva erotic image to him. Her juices coating his erection as he took them to new planes of pleasure was something even his jet couldn't deliver. Michael shifted as his penis swelled.

  "Sure she wouldn't prefer the stick your hands are on?” Racer teased. “Or rather, the one it should be on."

  "Watch it, Racer. He's liable to get so excited thinking about her, y'all will crash,” another voice broke in.

  "Don't be jealous that you still have to pay for women, Coyote,” Michael retorted. Racer snorted behind him.

  Their conversation halted as they received their orders and began their flight op. The second they'd succeeded and were heading back to base, the ribbing began again. Michael took it all with good cheer—until a voice broke in.

  It wiped all the cheer from their faces. They had a mission and were needed out at sea. As one, the small squadron of three planes headed out over the Atlantic Ocean to the aircraft carrier where they'd refuel and receive their new orders.

  As the F/A-18's shot across the blue sky and headed from home, Michael wondered how Ayanna would take this new development.

  The men chatted amongst themselves. Michael looked on either side of him and nodded at the men there. He had the best men with him. There were no others he'd rather have at his side. Their tactical precision was unmatched by anyone which was precisely the reason they'd been sent on this mission.

  It was dark when they landed on the flight deck of the carrier. After checking in with the ship's Commanding Officer, the men got briefed on their mission. They'd leave in a few hours but first they needed to get some food and sleep.

  Michael nodded to his men as they went to their temporary quarters or the mess. Personally, he had a call to make. He wanted to explain things to Ayanna. He also craved the soothing sound of her voice.

  Michael stood by a ship to shore phone and stared. “Would you like some privacy, Lieutenant?” the CO asked as he stopped beside him. “Rumour has it you're recently married. Congratulations."

  "Thank you, sir. And yes, if you don't mind, I would love some privacy."

  "Very good, stop by my stateroom, and I'll let you use my phone.” The CO patted him on the back and walked off.

  Michael followed him immediately, wanting desperately to hear Ayanna's voice. Soon he was looking at the white receiver of the MRSAT in the CO's stateroom. He picked it up then set it back down again. He was scared. He had heard horror stories from other sailors about what had happened between them and their spouses when deployed. Infidelity. Spitefulness.

  He shook his head. Ayanna isn't like that.

  Finally he just dialled his home number and held his breath as the phone began to ring.

  "Lieutenant Taylor's residence,” Ayanna answered in her smooth alto tone. Just her voice managed to soothe his nerves.

  "Hey, Ayanna,” Michael said over the static-filled line.

  "Michael? Where are you? You sound scratchy."

  "I'm not coming home for a while,” he told her. The static grew then faded. “Okay? I'm on a mission."

  He waited for a response and got nothing.

  "Ayanna? Honey, are you there?"

  Nothing.

  The call had been lost.

  Michael dropped the phone back on its cradle and swore
as he stood up. When he opened the door, the CO was waiting. “Everything okay at home, Lieutenant?"

  "We got disconnected, but thank you, Sir, for letting me use your phone.” Michael sent him a tense smile and walked off.

  I am so totally fucked. I don't even know how much she heard.

  * * * *

  Ayanna hung up the phone, oblivious to the tears streaming down her face. Not coming home for a while. Well, that explained why he still wasn't home at eleven o'clock at night.

  He doesn't want to be with you anymore, her mind taunted. She swallowed, no, that couldn't be right. Why not? You gave him what he wanted, sex. That's all men ever want.

  Refusing to let her mind continue down that destructive road, she tried to turn her attention back to the task at hand. Studying.

  It wasn't easy. The words from her notes and books seemed to mock her very being. She saw Michael's face in them. “Damn it!” Her hand smacked the desk as she struggled to get her work done. “I don't have time for this. I have to study. That hands-on practical is just around the corner."

  It was near two when she finally gave in and crawled into bed, wearing one of Michael's shirts. He'd left it in her room one night when he'd had come to her—something that had irked him. He wanted her to share his room, but she still refused. It looked like he was tired of walking down the hall.

  "Get a grip, Ayanna,” she admonished herself as she rolled over and punched her pillow. “Don't assume anything."

  Still, sleep eluded her until she allowed her fingers to drift between her thighs, along with an image of the man who'd defined passion for her.

  * * * *

  Her state of mind didn't improve. Life without Michael was hard. Very hard. Each passing day sent her mind down roads she knew in her heart were best left untravelled, but unfortunately they were frequented on an hourly basis.

  She received calls from the significant others of the men who flew with Michael. They left messages which said to call if she needed anything, anything at all. Ayanna was grateful for the kindness but she didn't call. Between working, school, and Devon she stayed almost busy enough to keep his image at bay.