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Claiming Kylie
RJ GRAY
ChapterOne
Kylie
“Just a one-night stand,” I reminded the sexy-ass Navy SEAL standing before me, his bare chest rippling with muscles. He raises a single eyebrow at me before nodding slowly in agreement. I’d purposely left space between us for this conversation. He removed his shirt in the living room, but all of my clothing was still on, like a protective shield. I knew once the clothing came off, the conversation was over.
He had to understand.
I don’t do relationships.
I don’t do long term. I can commit to a one-night stand of mind blowing, back-arching orgasms and that was it.
“Until you ask for another one.” His deep voice fills the surrounding air in my small bedroom. He looks huge compared to the full-sized bed and small bedside table, taking up most of the space in the room. He doesn’t fit. I imagine his own bed is a solid king size.We should have gotten a hotel room; I realize too late.Will there even be room for both of us on the bed? Nah, we couldn’t rent a room, not with how loud I plan on screaming tonight.
After making out on the couch for a good twenty minutes, like teenagers in the back of a car, I led him in here.
And damn if the man couldn’t kiss.
If the way that he worked his lips over mine was any indicator of things to come, then, I might need a day or two to recover. My lips still sting from the way he pressed his firmly into mine. They’re already bruised. He knows I like it rough, and he’s giving me exactly what I want. Pain reminds me I'm alive. It cuts past the thick cloud of bullshit I walk through every day and gets straight down to the point. It’s a beautiful promise of survival.
We negotiated terms for tonight over dinner at The Rusty Crab, a local restaurant and bar owned by a veteran friend of mine. My gut tells me Maverick’s safe and so far, my gut’s never been wrong. He’s friends with some of my closest guy pals, and I’d trust them with my life. Phantom is a great judge of character, giving me confidence in my decision to enjoy myself tonight.
Besides, it’s been six months since I’ve had sex. I’m way overdue. We discussed the important details over a tall, refreshing Colorado microbrew––like the last time they tested us for sexually transmitted diseases, my fertility status, I have an IUD in, and our relationship statuses. Both of us are single. There’s no room in my life to become a homewrecker––that’s a hard pass.
He kept promising me one night wouldn’t be enough… and I kept reassuring him it would. Here he goes again.
“It’ll never happen.”Don’t get your hopes up. I have a two-night maximum rule.
“Never say never,” he tells me with a smirk.
He’s confident in his sexual prowess. Little does he know; I’ve had plenty of partners. I’m not one of those women who feels guilt about exploring her sexual side. My body is mine to do what I want with. If I want to have a hot night of safe sex, who is anyone to judge? It’s not like I’ve advertised it.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe in cheating. If you are in a committed relationship, you honor your promise to each other. But I’ve not been in a monogamous relationship in six years.
I’m too broken.
I wouldn’t saddle a man with all my issues. My post-traumatic stress disorder wages war against me when I’m least expecting it. The nightmares slip into my unconscious and cause me to wake up gasping for breath, covered in a cold sweat. I never had a panic attack in my life before… Before my last combat tour. Before being shot in the stomach. Now, being in a crowded room, without a clear view of the exits, causes my heart to beat wildly out of control in my chest. No man needed my issues, my drama––my level of trauma to cope with.
It would be unfair to both of us.
Instead, I have fun. One-night stands with no emotional connection. I had a regular fuck-buddy a couple years back, but he decided he wanted more, caught feelings for me, and we had to end things. It sucked losing him. I lost more than a good roll in the sheets. He was one of my best friends. Now, he’s happily married and lives on the other side of town. He can’t even look me in the eye when we run into each other at the grocery store.
After that fiasco, I decided on the two-night maximum. No more than twice with the same man. Men could normally walk away after two nights without having formed a bond. It takes men a lot longer than two fuck sessions to fall in love. I wasn’t about to become celibate; I mean… a girl has needs, right? Toys are great, but they lack human contact.
Maverick decided he wanted me the second he laid eyes on me. He doesn’t know me from Eve. I’m far from the submissive girl he saw on stage. The first time he saw me, my freak flag was flying high and proud, naked on a raised platform at The Citadel, our local BDSM club. It just so happened to be Demo Wednesday and I’m a regular demo bottom there. My friend Bull is a Shibari master working his magic with nylon rope and bondage. When Maverick saw me for the first time, I was kneeling, eyes cast down, in a perfect slave position, while Bull tied me up and then suspended me in the air. I flew into sub space and enjoyed the rush of pheromones that flooded my system. He was waiting for me when I came down.
What Maverick saw and what truly was, were two very different things. I’m not a submissive or a slave. I don’t follow orders; and won’t kneel at any man’s feet. I act the role from time to time, with men I trust, and get rewarded with the pain I so deeply crave. The beautiful picture of submissive bliss he saw was part of a roleplaying game, not reality.
Yet, after checking with Phantom to make sure I wasn’t Bull’s, Maverick staked his claim on me. Quickly sidestepping his interest, I left the building, excited to get home, shower, and go to bed. The best made plans, right? Instead, my car got stuck in the mud after swerving to miss a deer in the middle of the road. I tried everything to free my car, but couldn’t, so I had no choice but to call for help. I didn’t call Maverick, but he showed up, anyway… and wouldn’t leave until I agreed to have dinner with him tonight.
Much to my surprise, we had a lot of fun at dinner. It surprised me how similar our interests were. And look, he’s not hard on the eyes, either. He’s a sexy-as-fuck former Navy SEAL, who works hard to keep in shape. His one downside is how convinced he is that we should do this dating thing. I’m sure a one-night stand will quench that thirst and have him moving on real fast. He'll stop bothering me after one night of amazing sex. They always do. It’s more about the challenge and the conquest. As soon as their pursuit is over, they move on to their next girl––it’s for the best. I don’t need any complications in my life. He doesn’t even live here, and long-distance relationships don’t work.
“So, what do you want? A striptease? A lap dance?” I ask him.Let’s get this thing started. I hope you can find my clit…and I don’t regret this.
“No, none of that,” he says as he stalks towards me.
