Out of Time: A Military Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  About Author

  Out of Time

  Sienna Mynx

  The Divas Pen LLC Publication

  http://thedivaspen.com

  Out of Time

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Out of Time © Copyright 2016 Sienna Mynx

  Cover art by Sienna Mynx

  Electronic book publication December 2016

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, The Diva’s Pen LLC.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously

  Chapter One

  Past - 11:45 P.M. December 23, 2012

  USCG Auxiliary IN-71 - Outpost

  "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Captain Gregor of the Fisher King, over!"

  Lt. Samuels nearly fell out of his chair. The luminance of the radar screens before him lit the entire console a glowing greenish color. He and the other three junior grade officers were wide-eyed awake but startled by the loud distress siren coming through.

  "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Captain Gregor of the Fisher King, 7,2,7,2 North, 1,8,5,3,6 West... we are flooding, taking on water in our rudder room. Mayday!"

  "Roger, good copy on position... Request to know number onboard, over." There was a long, drawn–out, static-filled pause. And then the answer came through loud and clear.

  "Number of persons, 53, over."

  Lt. Samuels turned to Ensign Johnson. "Wake the Commander. And find out if Lt. Commander Quinn is still here! Go! Go! Go!"

  The Ensign ran for the door.

  1.

  One hour, thirty-eight minutes earlier —

  Asha had fallen asleep under a thin afghan blanket on the lumpy sofa in her husband’s single-bedroom rental home. She'd arrived early to decorate because she feared he wouldn't walk through the door until Christmas Eve. The lights and the tree were all blinking. An array of rainbow colors reflected off the walls and ceiling. It was Christmas time for the Quinns.

  The first winter storm of the season was moving in, so she and her husband would have to spend the holiday at the Outpost. She didn't mind. The romantic in her preferred they'd do it this way. After all, this is the place where their love story began.

  Lt. Commander Kevan 'Ice' Quinn once told her he was not the man to marry. In fact, most of his friends attended the wedding because they had a wager on whether he'd make it down the aisle. Now they all believed she tamed him. That was half-true. He was a perfect husband, but nothing she did or said could ever tame the daredevil that was in him. Often when she got a call that he was out on a mission, she stayed up most nights praying for his safety. It was the life a wife endured when married to the USCG. Tonight, however, was different. He'd forfeited all other holidays to make sure Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were theirs. He promised to be home by ten. Around eleven she lost the fight and fell asleep.

  2.

  Ice could see colorful blinking lights like dancing shadows behind the front windows of his house. He slipped in the key and disengaged the lock. He opened the door slowly before he walked in. He knew his sleeping beauty rested inside. And he was right. He closed the door and went inside. He shook off the chill that he dragged in with him. He dropped his bag and stepped out of his laced boots. When he shed his heavy insulated coat and put it on the hook, he took in his wife's surprise. Christmas lights. He smiled. It meant Asha had made it in before the storm. He walked into the living room and found her asleep on the sofa. Ice stared at her for a moment. A mixture of lust, desire, and relief to finally have her here with him churned with his emotions. He'd been looking forward to seeing her all day.

  Ice dropped his duffle at the door. He rubbed heat in his hands and walked over to his wife. There was room, but not enough for them both to be comfortable on the sofa. Still, he eased onto the sofa with her. She was on her side with her back to him. He heard a soft groan as she was pushed into the back sofa cushions. He slipped his hand around her waist and unbuttoned her jeans; his fingers pulled down the tab of her zipper. She was awake.

  "Stop!" she giggled. His nails scratched the skin beneath her trimmed pubic hair. "Ice! You need to cut your nails. That hurts."

  "Move over, I want to lie with you," he grunted, "or on top of you."

  "There's no room!" she laughed. "Stop it!"

  Ice had forced his oversized hand beneath her zipper and into her panties. His fingers kept reaching. She turned her face to say hello and he moved in for the kiss. The sofa could only fit the two of them without the back cushions. And even then her husband, who was tall with big feet, would be forced eventually to lie on top of her. She giggled. She kissed him back. She tossed the sofa pillows over them to make room. Ice was too distracted by the warm and moist feel of her sex to notice he was on the edge of the sofa.

  It had been sixteen days, fifteen nights, thirteen hours, and twenty-seven minutes since she felt her husband's desire for her. All she wanted was to feel her husband buried inside of her.

  "What took you so long?" Asha whined. She turned over a bit, and in doing so her thighs parted enough for his middle finger to sink knuckle deep into her vagina. He kissed and bit her earlobe and then her cheek. His finger plunged, withdrew, plunged again, in timing with her rapid breathing. Ice remained on his side.

  "You miss me?" he asked.

  "You know I did. You promised, Ice. You know what tomorrow is. I was hoping we could have dinner together tonight and then dessert until the morning," she said.

  "I'm a man who likes to eat his dessert first." He kissed her brow. Asha was soaking wet now. And then he switched his technique. He pulled out his middle finger to replace it with his thumb. Asha’s mouth gaped and she thrust her pelvis up. Her jeans were now pushed down just below her hips. Her eyes opened and fixed on her husband’s. The men who flew with him in the army when he was a Black Hawk pilot and later in the Coast Guard called him 'Ice'. They said he was hard, fearless, born with ice in his veins. But the name had a different meaning for her. It was his eyes. He had bewitching, lash-fringed, clear grey eyes the color of glaciers. A steely stare under dreamy, slanted lids. Eyes that made a girl fall in love.

  "You've been eating that candy again," he groaned. She chuckled. "You smell so good, Asha." Their lips locked as her breathing and his matched. She sighed and gave in. Under the spell of his hand she reached the yummy state of climax. Pleasure exp
loded deep in her channel, between her thighs. It shocked her and the vibration went up through her vaginal walls and blew her mind with rapture. Asha cried out like a helpless girl, totally inexperienced with being loved by a man like him. Of course, it wasn't true. She was just wrecked by the prolonged wait and the tantalizing tease of their reunion. She tried to get her bearings but her husband had blown her mind in just a matter of seconds.

  Ice kissed her mouth and neck. He dragged her jeans down and rolled down her panties from her thick thighs. She was bottomless and dripping with arousal. The corner of his mouth lifted into a wicked, sly smile. He came over her, with his large feet hanging off the other end of the sofa and his knees between her thighs. Ice trailed kisses down her neck to the tip of her nipple. They were so erect they pressed through her thin t-shirt. She pushed at his chest, and those eyes of his demanded she behave.

  "Can you at least say Happy Anniversary to a girl before you have your way?"

  He chuckled and lifted his arm to check his watch. "It's not Christmas Eve yet."

  "So? I drove all day to get here. I want to hear you say it."

  "I know what you want," he smirked. "Let me give it to you." He bit her nipple and she cried out with laughter. He tickled her side and she flopped underneath him. He leaned up to look at her. With the Christmas lights blinking from the windows, walls and ceiling she could see her husband fully. He still wore his sage green nomex flight suit. The only patch authorized to be worn to the front-right side read The United States Coast Guard Auxiliary. On the front-left side were his pilot wings, name and aviation qualification. She could smell the wind and ocean on him. He was a chopper pilot in the US Coast Guard. One of the most decorated. Ice was called upon for the high-risk missions. And she accepted that; she loved his achievements. But they had finally reached the turning point in their lives. She had a special gift for him this anniversary.

  "Happy Anniversary baby," he sang to her. "You sure did keep it tight."

  Asha laughed. She had Pandora playing on the cable television. It was the Otis Redding version of “Merry Christmas, Baby” playing for them. He jumped up from the sofa and began to play an air guitar, changing up the lyrics. Asha sat up and watched his performance.

  "Happy Anniversary, baby... you sure did treat me nice!" he sang. He thrust his hips and worked his shoulders. She clapped and smiled. "I feel mighty fine, yawl. I feel mighty fine, girl. I got something to give ya, baby. I feel like I'm going to get me some tonight! Happy Anniversary, baby, sure did keep it warm and tight. I love you, baby, for the rest of my life."

  Asha started to rock side to side with him. She sang the chorus with him. She preferred his version to Otis Redding’s. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up into his arms. He danced her around with his hands cupping the cheeks of her ass. A few pelvic thrusts and singing off key and she was in bliss. When the song ended he tackled her like a linebacker and she was brought down playfully hard on the sofa.

  "Take it off," he grunted. "I want to see your breasts!" He pulled at her shirt. It was a typical request from Ice. He liked her breasts and ass. He had to feel one of them when they slept together. She'd gotten used to it. He lifted off her so she could comply. Asha scooted back to the arm of the sofa. Ice was standing with his legs apart in his military stance, hands clasped behind his back. She’d been given an order and she was expected to comply. Asha shook her head.

  "You need to get undressed too, Lt. Commander," she said.

  "Roger that!" he said. He brought down the zipper to his flight suit. He wore his usual white cotton long-sleeve t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and muscular shoulders. She removed her vintage Janet Jackson t-shirt. He stepped out of his suit and dropped the sweat pants he wore beneath. The Temptations began to sing “Silent Night.”

  "So? What did they say? Is it final? Are you official now? Sector Commander of District One?" she asked.

  He grinned. "Let's talk about it later."

  "Okay," she nodded. He dropped his boxers and his erection pointed directly at her. Ice put his hands on his hips and looked down at it. “At ease soldier!”

  Asha laughed again.

  "Can I get a Christmas kiss?"

  "It's not Christmas yet," she said.

  "Christmas Eve?" he asked and thrust his hips at her.

  "Nope," she smiled.

  "Trick or treat?" he asked.

  Asha laughed. "Nope."

  "Pretty please?" he asked. "With your tongue on my cock?"

  Asha roared with laughter. "What took you so long tonight?"

  "I told you babe, we had some training exercises today."

  "But you're off duty? Me and you, only—I'm going to cook so much good stuff. All your favorites," she said.

  He stroked his dick and stared her. She could tell he wasn't listening. "Come here," she said. Ice hopped over to her, one hop, two hops, three. Asha fell over laughing. She shook her head, smiling. She sat up and he poked her lips with the tip of his cock.

  "Merry Christmas, baby," she sang to it. "You sure do look good tonight."

  Ice grinned. She kissed the dimpled head and let her tongue circle and tease it. She knocked his hand away and grabbed it by the root, gently. She stroked base of the stalk up one or two inches as she glided the other four into her mouth. Asha relaxed her jaws and then suctioned them the way she knew he loved. He only survived four or five sucks before he was grunting and telling her to stop. She let him go and looked up at him.

  "That's enough playing," he groaned.

  Ice pushed her back on the sofa and came down on her again. He dropped his knee on the sofa and she was forced to part her thighs for him. Asha lay flat on her back, and he moved over her sexy curves.

  Ice loved making his wife happy. Law school had been grueling for her, and with the added time spent apart, the stress could test any marriage. Theirs was different. They were best friends, soul mates.

  He ran his nose over her skin. It smelled like butterscotch. She must have sucked on the candies he left for her in the glass dish. Now the creamy sweetness was embedded in her flesh. His face tucked in between her thick thighs and he sniffed and licked her pussy, expecting to taste and smell butterscotch there as well. Asha's back arched off the sofa and her mouth opened. He brushed his lips over her labia and then wet them. The tip of his tongue parted the plump folds of her vagina and plunged deeper. Her hips undulated and a slow groan of pleasure rippled from her throat. Ice’s dick went so hard he could have stabbed right through the sofa cushion with a single thrust if he wanted. His tongue gave her wicked strokes and licks that went faster and faster.

  "Do me! Do me now, baby! Now!" she begged. Asha would not behave for him. And a woman as beautiful as his shouldn't have to. He pulled back, but not before kissing her inner thigh.

  "Sit up for me, honey."

  Asha cupped her sex. She was visibly shaken. An orgasm always seem to drive a startled and somewhat dazed response from her. She was only nineteen when they first met. His sweet, shy church girl. He'd had his share and often could break through their pious beliefs. But not his Asha; damn it, no woman had ever driven him so crazy.

  Ice went to his knees before her. Asha turned and sat on the edge of sofa. Because of his height (6'3”) and hers (5'8”) they were eye to eye. He looked into her pretty oval-shaped face, framed by thick, naturally crinkly locks, and fell deeper in love. Asha had slender dark brows over cat-like brown eyes with long silky lashes. She had high cheekbones, a full nose and lips that were so kissable to him he often found himself licking his own whenever she spoke to him. Asha was curvy. Her breast size was a 34-F, her waist 29, and hips rounded up to 42. She was all natural, too. Every beautiful inch of her created by God, not man.

  You see, Ice had a type. That’s what everyone knew to be true about him. A special type. He discovered it at the age of three. He'd fallen in love with his babysitter, a dark-skinned black girl who was the daughter of the woman who worked at his mother's dress shop. She was only six
teen when he first met her. Even now he could remember her long braided hair and doe eyes that reminded him of the painted eyes on his sister’s dolls. She had a bright, white, even-toothed smile with lips that were plump and so soft that when she kissed his brow or his hand she calmed his tantrums. And he remembered she had full breasts for a teenage girl—larger than his mother’s. As a tot he'd run in a room and immediately climb on her lap to lay his face against them. He'd often ask to be picked up so she could squeeze him in an embrace. And she'd often walk around the house with him on her hip while she fixed his dinner.

  It was innocent, this infatuation and appreciation for the warmth, beauty and comfort from a girl. But that innocence shaped him, opened his eyes to women his upbringing would have taught him to never look at. And it remained a vivid memory. His own mother would comment that his clingy behavior was unusual compared to his baby sister, since he never reached for her as often. And eventually she fired the young girl or asked her not to return.

  The girl’s name was Laticia. And she was the first of many. By the time he reached high school and was a star running back, no one could keep him from his desires. Often he'd fire up the pickup truck he restored with his father and cruise over to the other side of town. In Mississippi the rule was clear. Blacks stayed on their side and whites on theirs. They only intermingled during high school games and classes, but even the school proms were racially segregated. Due to Ice's height and penchant for a quick temper, people ignored or dismissed the sightings of young black girls with him as he rode around town in his pickup truck. He walked into a diner and would be ready to get into a fist-fight if he and his date suffered any sideways glances. No one ever questioned Ice. It was his way.

  When he entered the Army he had decided it wasn't a phase but a preference. And the playboy lifestyle of a chopper pilot meant he had pussy thrown his way from every direction. He broke a few rules by fraternizing, but never got caught. He left a trail of broken hearts at every base, town or village he was deployed too—even made psych question his intentions. He was a Black Hawk pilot, trained for combat and able to operate the military's most versatile helicopter in all weather conditions, night or day. And he was a sex-fiend with the ladies. Was it forbidden fruit, a fetish? Why would he need and want black and brown women that deeply? And why was he unable to commit his emotions to any of them?