Page 50 of My All American Girl

22

DEAN

It had been a brutal evening. Sarah was insufferable. And insufferably gorgeous. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? I doubted it.

She was too rough and tumble to care. Somehow, she always looked effortlessly stunning. That was just good luck and better genetics. I glanced over at Mo. He was a big, burly dude. She certainly didn’t get her looks from him. Sarah was petite and feminine, even if she downplayed it at work.

Over the course of dinner, I got a glimpse of her relationship with her father. I had heard stories about Sarah over the years, but it was always told from a father’s point of view with lots of pride and occasionally some frustration. It was nice to see.

Mo was an attentive father. I knew how much he cherished his oldest daughter. She was and always had been his pride and joy. It scared the hell out of Mo that she wanted to fly fighter jets, but I knew he had been preparing his whole life for her to move into this program. He’d known this was Sarah’s fate ever since she was ten years old obsessing over watching Cessnas take off at the local airport. I had known it too because Mo used to worry aloud to me over it while we sipped whiskey or bourbon.

Now? Mo had made his peace with it. He was proud of her. I could see it in the way he watched his daughter’s every move. He was giving himself peace of mind by making sure she had the best training. He couldn’t stop her from chasing her dreams, but he could make sure she had every bit of knowledge and training to do it well and safely.

Would he be as proud if he knew she’d been putting moves on her superior and her mentor? And her father’s best friend?

Not an answer I wanted to find out.

Throughout dinner, I tried to focus on Mo’s stories, but she was making it difficult for me to think straight. She had this way of being the center of attention without even trying. It drove me nuts. The way she shot me those challenging looks, her foot running up my leg under the table, her audacity? She was one of a kind.

I finished my dessert first and decided it was my turn to step away from the table. I excused myself. My heart pounded in my chest as I made my way to the restroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to regain composure. Sarah had always been a firecracker, but tonight she was pushing all my buttons in the most tantalizing way possible. I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt toward her, but I knew crossing that line would be disastrous.

So would coming in my pants right at the table in front of her father. I was a risk taker but I didn’t have a death wish.

I adjusted myself in my pants, my cock extra sensitive after all the teasing. Sarah was beyond anything I had experienced before. She knew I couldn’t touch her, and she was torturing me. As usual, I found myself arguing with my conscience. Just a quickie. Just something to take the edge off.

No one would know.

Stop it.

I took a few deep breaths before I returned to the table. Sarah’s gaze locked onto mine, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. The conversation continued, but tension continued to hang in the air between us. When her foot tried to return to my thigh, I firmly pushed it away. I was done playing around in front of her father like this. The old man’s heart would break if he caught us. And I would get thrown into a jet engine by the general.

She frowned at me and subtly adjusted her position as if she were uncomfortable.

Good. I hoped she was as wet as I was hard. She was playing with fire, and we were both burning up. Her cheeks were a little flushed as she took a bite of her dessert. Her pink tongue lapped out to lick away some of the cream from her lip. I damn near growled at the sight. Every time our eyes met, it was as if electricity coursed through my veins.

Mo insisted on paying the check, which made me feel even shittier for getting a foot job from his precious daughter. Guilt nagged at me, but I was so turned on I could barely think. We all walked outside together and I forced myself to seem calm and normal. I was looking forward to getting back to my house and free of the little vixen. Sarah had me all twisted up inside.

“Thank you for dinner,” I said to Mo and extended my hand. “It was good to see you.”

“Thank you for taking care of my daughter.” Mo’s sincere grin was like a dagger in my heart.

“Of course.” I nodded, doing my best not to make eye contact with the man.

“Dean, would you mind taking Sarah back to base? I’d appreciate the peace of mind knowing she got home safely.”

Motherfucker.

Sarah protested immediately. “I’d rather take a cab or a ride share, Dad.”

Mo insisted, and we both knew it was a fight we wouldn’t win. “No arguments. Dean will take you. It’s no problem, right?”

I couldn’t think of a decent reason to say no. “No. Why would it be a problem?”

He nodded. “Exactly.”

She let out a long sigh and I stood back while she gave her father a hug. “I’m fine, Dad. You don’t have to pop in to check on me. I’m a big girl.”

We said our goodbyes to Mo until next time he was back in town, which wouldn’t be until after survival training. Then we walked to my truck, neither of us looking at one another.