A Marriage of Convenience (6 page)

BOOK: A Marriage of Convenience
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He looked over her shoulder before glancing back at her. His hand moved over the front of her panties. “You’re wet for me.” His cock pressed insistently against his jeans.

“I should get changed.” Her words were barely audible.

“I want to taste you, Ayanna.” He leaned in close to her ear. “Tell me I can.” Light, feathery strokes moved across the increasingly damp underwear. Her mouth moved and he only just heard her faint ‘yes.’

Michael groaned as he delved his index finger inside her. His hard erection throbbed as he withdrew his finger and sucked it clean.

“I need you,” he said. His timbre was lower than usual as he let her out of his arms. He watched her leave and swore under his breath as he attempted to find a more comfortable position for his engorged cock.

 

* * * *

 

The guard at the gate snapped out a salute as they passed and entered the base. Turning into the parking lot, Michael found a spot and parked the SUV. Quickly, he got out. Ayanna was slower to follow.

“Coming, sweetheart?” he asked from the back door where he was pulling out Devon.

Smiling at him, she nodded and climbed out. Immediately, she felt nervous. She was swamped with that belief that everyone was watching her and judging her. It was her own personal demon, the belief that everyone wanted to pass judgment on her. Maybe it would be different with Michael beside her. She looked for him. He waited on the other side of his vehicle.

“Let’s go,” she said with more bravado than she felt.

Devon
between them, they walked towards the jets lining the main road into Naval Air Station Oceana. Michael glanced at her. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, I just haven’t been here aside from…” She trailed off.

“When we got married?” he asked.

“Yes,” she muttered.

Michael shook his head. Ayanna was so strong and passionate about some things, but when it came to their relationship, she was still unsure. It was all crystal clear to him. They were a family. He’d happily stay with her for the rest of their lives. He wanted to have another child and be there for the birth. He wanted to see their children grow, get married, and have children of their own.

He’d recognised it the second he had seen her again. That restlessness inside him had vanished like it had the first time they met. Two halves of the same whole.

You are my life, Ayanna.

By now Devon had seen the jets and tried to hurry along the adults. Michael laughed and swung him up on his shoulders and hurried towards the object of his son’s affection.

 

Ayanna followed at a slower pace and allowed her eyes to roam over the way Michael’s jeans fit him and how his blue shirt pulled taut across his shoulders. Her mouth watered at the way his rippling muscles easily flexed to support Devon and keep him safe from any harm.
Jesus, this man has me acting like a damn sex addict. I am in a constant state of arousal around him.
She swallowed the groan that threatened to slip out as her mind stripped away his clothes.

A few other people milled around the planes, talking and pointing at them while they read the information beside each one. She moved up beside a grey jet in time to overhear Michael say to Devon, “This is almost like what Daddy flies.”

Patiently, he pointed out things to their son, his tone gentle. His eyes met hers and his nose crinkled as he grinned. Her physical response had her forcing down another shudder.

As she walked up to them, Michael leaned over and kissed her cheek, apparently not concerned with keeping their relationship a secret.

“You fly this?” Ayanna asked.

“Well, no. I fly the F/A-18E Super Hornet.” Michael caressed the side of the grey plane, his passion for flying lighting his eyes.

“Boo,” Devon announced as he pointed at the Blue Angel jet.

“That’s right, it is blue,” Michael said as he walked his son to the blue and yellow jet. “This is an F/A-18 Hornet.”

“This isn’t what they were flying in New Mexico, was it? For the Thunderbirds?” Ayanna asked as she hesitatingly touched the jet. Her body flushed as she remembered what had happened after the show.

“No,” Michael answered. “The Air Force flies F-16’s for the Thunderbirds.” The gleam in his eyes told her he was remembering, as well.

“And what, if any, are they also called?” Ayanna wanted to keep that glow about him as he talked about planes.
He looks so hot with that fire in his eyes.
Her mind painted another erotic picture for her. She moaned softly.

“Fighting Falcon,” he replied, smiling.

“Oh, I see.” Ayanna pulled back her hand and wiped it on her thigh. She swallowed a few times, trying to find a way to understand the emotions moving through her. It scared her to know that he was up in the sky, flying one of these aircraft.

It
was
dangerous flying.

Okay, time for you to face it. You have feelings for him, and they’re more than just sexual ones,
her brain announced
.
Ayanna realised it was true, all of it. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, there was a true connection between her and Michael. She could imagine them together when they were both old and grey. And it scared the hell out of her.

Before actually hearing him say he flew a fighter plane, it had been easy, to an extent, to ignore the flight suit and pretend his job was safe. The possibility of losing him to a woman was a way to keep him at arm’s length. The thought that he might go to work and never come home…scared her shitless.

Her heart rate tripled when he sent her a private smile. The kind that made her believe he viewed her as the most beautiful woman in the world.
There goes my idea of maintaining a business-like relationship.
He licked his lips as his eyes roved over her.
It’s like he reads my mind.

Michael winked.

Ayanna trembled.

“Michael!”

She looked in the direction of the voice. A man on the other side of the street waved at Michael. Slanting a look at her husband, she saw him smile and wave back.

A few moments later, the blond-haired man reached them. He was a bit shorter than Michael but in the same excellent shape. “What’s up, Taz?” he said. “Didn’t think you would be here on your day off.”

“What’s up, Racer?” Michael shook the blond’s hand.

“Just coming to see if I can get—” Racer snapped his mouth shut, suddenly noticing the child in Michael’s arms. “Who’s this cute little man?”

Michael slid an arm around Ayanna. “I want you to meet my wife, Ayanna, and our son, Devon. We’re spending the afternoon looking at the planes.”

Devon
grinned and pointed at the Blue Angel replica aircraft. “P’ane,” he proudly said.

If Racer was shocked, he didn’t let it show. A wide grin appeared as he reached for Ayanna’s hand. “Wow, what’s a beauty like you doing with this one?” He bowed over the back of her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ayanna. I’m Lieutenant Pete Kysenzki, better known as Racer.”

She smiled shyly. “Thank you. It’s wonderful to meet you, as well.”

Michael frowned at his friend. “Let go of my wife’s hand, Racer.”

Racer winked at her, then he looked at Devon. “Good thing he takes after his mom, instead of you, Taz.”

“I know,” Michael agreed. “He’s a great looking child.”

The blond man smiled. “I have to go. I have a date. I’ll see you later on, and Mrs. Taylor, it was lovely to finally meet you.” He waved one more time and took off in the direction from which he had arrived.

Ayanna looked at her husband who was watching her instead of his friend. “What did he mean by that Michael?”

“Just that he’s been waiting to meet you. That’s my RIO. My closest friend here. Of course, he knows I’m married.” He kissed her again then walked to an older version of a Navy plane showing it to Devon.

“Your RIO? What the heck is a RIO?” Ayanna was totally lost.

“Radio Intercept Officer. He and I fly in the same plane.”

Ayanna closed her mouth. She had plenty of questions but she had other things to mull over. Like how matter-of-factly he’d said that of course he’d told Pete he was married.
Another point in your favour Michael Taylor.

If she was honest, she’d been concerned people wouldn’t like her because she was black. She’d already been a stereotype, the single black woman who had a kid.
What if being with me hurts his career?
She swallowed.
Michael doesn’t seem to care or he wouldn’t have introduced you or married you.
Running a hand over her face, Ayanna walked closer and watched her family. Eventually, Michael’s deep voice soothed her frayed nerves. His actions with Devon were another huge point in his favour.

 

* * * *

 

On the way home from the base, Michael had picked up kerbside service from a local restaurant. At the moment, he was alone in the kitchen. As he finished wiping down the counters, he grinned as he recalled his earlier encounter on them with his wife.

He growled low in his throat at the recollection of how her tight, wet channel gripped his fingers. And how she tasted… Oh God. Even now, the memory of the look of her flushed skin as she cried her pleasure to the room made his body prickle as if he’d been filled with electricity.

“Fuck this!” He slapped the towel down on the counter and left the kitchen. Quickly he locked up the house and shut off the lights before heading upstairs.

Tonight, Ayanna. No more running away. No more excuses.

Walking slowly to his son’s room, he heard Ayanna’s low alto voice as she sang to Devon. “I’ll love you forever. I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living. My baby you’ll be.” A smile appeared on his face as he looked in the bedroom. Ayanna was in the rocking chair near the crib. Devon was basically sound asleep in her arms as she sang.

Back and forth they moved, a faint light shone down and reflected off the book she had long since put down. She’d memorised that story, and he’d often heard her singing the chorus to Devon when he went down for his nap.

As he watched her fingers gently caress Devon’s face he stepped in the room. “Hey,” he whispered. “Is he out?”

“Yes.” she replied softly.

Michael took him and lay him down in the crib. Then he took a hold of Ayanna and led her out of the room. His strong hand cupped her face.

“Stay with me tonight.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

Ayanna looked into his eyes as his words registered, part command and part question. His gaze was direct and unwavering as he watched her. She looked at his nose and lips before returning to his eyes. Instead of verbally giving him an answer, she turned her head until her lips were against the palm of his hand. Lightly, she kissed it as her own hand rested behind his.

His eyes closed before he reached for her and lifted her off her feet. Backing her into the wall, he kissed her. She shivered at the barely restrained passion coiled within his powerful body.
I won’t back out this time.

“Michael,” she moaned into his mouth. Her body tensed with hungry anticipation.

“Ayanna,” he said on a purr of pleasure as her tongue danced with his. His strong fingers dug into her ass as her legs locked around his waist.

She slid her fingers through his short hair, trying to get as close as possible. Her back pressed against the wall as Michael’s wicked mouth teased the satin smooth skin of her neck. A whimper escaped her as his teeth grazed top of her bra before he licked the cleft between her overly sensitive breasts.

Suddenly he stopped. “Not against the wall,” he muttered. His voice deeper and more gravelly than normal. “I want you in bed. Not just any bed.
My
bed.

“Yes. Your bed.” She pulled his earlobe into her mouth and grazed it with her teeth. He shivered with pleasure. Michael stepped away from the wall and headed to his room.

Ayanna threaded her fingers through his soft hair. Her mouth nipped then licked away the sting along his jaw line. Breathing grew harsher the closer he got to his room. Each step ground her pelvis against him. Their lips met as the remaining distance was covered quickly.

As soon as her feet touched the floor, Michael pulled up her shirt and tossed it to the floor.

“Yours, too,” she murmured. Her plea turned into a groan of longing the second his shirt joined hers on the carpet. Moisture pooled between her legs. She could look at him forever and never get bored.

His well-defined chest was rock solid. A light dusting of dark hair scattered over his broad torso. Each cut of muscle on him was a work of art. He didn’t have an ounce of extra fat on him.

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she closed the miniscule distance between them and ran her fingers over the rippling planes of his upper body. Closing her eyes, she was taken back in time to that night in New Mexico when she had first learned his body. In the years that had passed, her mind hadn’t forgotten. His eyes were molten as they opened to stare into hers as her fingers followed the hair that disappeared below the waist of his jeans.

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