Misplaced passions and unexpected consequences chase a couple from Panama City Spring Break to hades and back.
Yeah, the boy said, "No," until the man Afghanistan etched into steel hollered, "Hell, yeah ..."
Her? No matter how close she comes to h...
The volunteer hostess in the Dulles Airport USO turned as the group crashed through the doors. The super-sized blonde Gwyneth Paltrow look-alike said, "Gentlemen ..."
"Hey, you still want to make out?" a flat-topped, bearded vagabond dressed in civvies said as he ran his palm up her arm and then traveled her neck.
Anne flushed as Stone's caress imprisoned her with XXX-rated sin-freaking-say-ions left from a spring break cliffhanger. His sensuous skim, a burn.
His lips lowered to feel Anne's pulse quicken as he waited for her answer.
As Anne stared into gray eyes, she said, "I've waited years for you to kiss me ..."
"As I crouched in Afghani mountains," with a smoldering tone that caused his friends to surge around the pair to assess danger Lieutenant Stony Koufax's perimeter tightened to man versus woman, "I warmed with the thoughts of screwing you." With that, a tangled mess of limbs marked their territory and the other rangers dispersed.
Heat-seeking missiles locked as her wet lips opened to Stone's tongue. Insistent rocks against her feminine core left no doubt of his want. To ensure she understood, with hard hands Stone pulled her face closer and traced urgent patterns over her lips.
The US Army Rangers chanted "Hooah, hooah, hooah."
Battle rattles rang as Marines that filled the rear of room challenged. "Ooh-rah, ooh-rah, devil dogs ready to rock ..." The cadence beat as the tasting lingered.
Lack of breath broke Stone and Anne's intense search and discover. "Two more hours on US soil," Stone whispered. "Secretary Rumsfeld declared an end to major Afgan combat today. We're on our way to Iraq."
A tug of Anne's hand sent them racing toward the shuttle bus service. Washington Dulles Airport Marriott lurked like the shining beacon less than one mile from the terminal. Fast kisses in the taxi meant no talk so virtual strangers pressed hungry bodies like sex-starved teenagers.
As the Marriott's elevator hummed toward their goal Anne whispered against Stone's lips, "Why, the sixteenth floor,"
"Old times' sake," Stone murmured against her neck. "I don't suppose you have that bikini with you?"
"I hope to hell you're not still wearing those tacky, striped boxer briefs ... Saxon," she giggled like a young teen, "weren't they?" A feminine hand pushed his Levi jeans lower which caused Stone's breath to hitch to a low hum.
"No, don't ..." Stone said as she followed the honey-brown arrow further south, though tonight she touched. "We're going to be arrested ..." he said as she stopped the elevator between floors.
"Not for the first time." Anne reminded as her voice deepened and purred.
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An hour later, Anne asked Stone, "What color are your eyes?"
"Gray steel ... Yours?"
"Freaky blue agates, small and slanted like a Siamese cat. Favorite words?"
"Valor, honor, courage ... Heroes?"
"Heroines," she corrected, "Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Jane Austen, Pocahontas ... We've got to say goodbye."
"Nah ... Let's don't: until we meet again ..." Stone waved from the taxi window where they'd shared their longest conversation — her standing on the asphalt, him on the padded seat.
His last glimpse: June 01, 2003, a long-legged woman in a very short polka dot sundress would have to last the year of his Iraqi deployment. Bangs blew in the breeze and she threw a kiss from bright red lips.
"Hot damn ... What have I done?" Stone said as he fastened his open shirt.
