5. Nolan

NOLAN

Idream about her all night long. My unconscious has no shortage of fantasy scenarios. Her sparkling eyes. Her full, luscious lips. Her peachy ass and strong, thick hips. Her left hand with a diamond ring on it. Her moaning my name as I fill her warm cunt with my seed.

When I wake at seven-thirty the next morning, I've got the hard-on of the century.

With a tortured groan, I scrub a hand over my face, willing the night's fantasies to let me be. I've gone this long without giving in. I can make it through one more erection.

I shove the sheets off me and pad into the bathroom of my hotel room. A little too forcefully, I slam on the hot water in the shower and yank off my clothes. As I step under the hot stream of water and lather myself up, my hard-on stubbornly refuses to go away.

Fine. I'll take care of it. But I'm not going to think of her.

I fist my hard-on and start to jerk myself off. My strokes are fast and urgent, fueled by a desperation to get it done and over with. It's not about the pleasure. There isn't even that much pleasure to it, to be honest.

Then a wisp of one of my dreams accidentally slips in: Leila sitting next to me on the airplane, just like yesterday. Only she's in her underwear, her curves barely contained by a see-through bra-and-panty set.

I push the fantasy away, only for it to immediately return. And it's worse this time. Her hand is slipping into her panties, and she's touching herself, and I can hear how wet she is?—

"Fuck," I choke out, and before I can stop myself, I'm coming. I groan as my cum spurts out. For a fraction of a second, it feels incredible. But the dirty guilt that rushes in quickly washes over that brief moment of pleasure.

I'm outside Leila's hotel at exactly eight a.m. She comes out two minutes after I arrive. She's dressed in sturdy-looking hiking boots, shorts that hug her big hips, a few layered shirts, and a lightweight jacket. Her pretty reddish-brown hair is plaited into two braids, and she's wearing a tie-dye headband.

I don't know how she looks so damn beautiful in hiking gear.

"Sure you're ready for this, Nolan?" she asks with a smile. "You know what you're getting yourself into, right?"

I nod. I've read up about the Tour du Mont Blanc. I've packed all the gear I'm going to need, including an ultralight tent. I know that we're about to embark on one hundred miles of hiking, that the trail goes through France, Italy, and Switzerland, and that it's not going to be easy.

But there was never a question about whether or not I was going to follow her on this trip.

I'm still absorbing the fact that we're going on this adventure together as Leila and I head to the official starting point of the hike—a wooden arch where a few other hikers are finishing up taking some photographs.

"Will you take a photo of me?" Leila asks, pulling out an old film camera. She grins as she hands it over. "I thought it would be fun to be old-school about it."

I like the way she thinks. I take the camera from her and hold it up to my eye while she poses cutely in front of the large arch. I swallow as I peer through the viewfinder, her curves making my cock twitch.

"Would you like me to photograph you together?" a voice beside me asks in a French accent.

I look over and see a friendly-looking woman waiting for my reply.

Before I can answer, Leila pipes up. "That would be lovely! Thank you, ma'am."

I hand the camera over and join Leila beneath the arch. I have a strong urge to wrap my hand around her waist, but I just stand there, close to her but not touching her as I listen for the click of the shutter.

"Thank you so much!" Leila says as the French woman steps forward to hand back the camera.

"My pleasure," says the woman. "Good luck with the journey."

"What made you want to do this hike?" I ask Leila.

Hours into the hike, we're finally stopping for a rest. Up until this point, our conversation has consisted of occasionally checking in with each other and pointing out scenic things along the way. I've made a point to keep it limited to that. I've also made a point to keep her in my peripheral vision instead of looking directly at her. The sight of her bubble butt in those tight shorts she has on is maddening.

"Oh, so many reasons," she says as we sit down on two large boulders along the side of the trail. She takes a drink from her water bottle before continuing. Her forehead is glistening lightly with sweat. "For starters, it's an iconic trail. I've heard people say that it's their favorite hike they've ever done. I also think it's so cool that the trail goes through three countries."

I take a swig out of my own water bottle. "Yeah, that is pretty cool."

"Also, my dad and I talked about doing this trip together. So I wanted to do it in honor of him."

I think about David and all kinds of feelings come into my chest. "I sure miss your dad."

"Me too," she says, softness filling her eyes for a moment before she blinks it away. "You guys served in the same unit together, right?"

I nod. Memories of our time as Navy SEALS flash through my head: intense training sessions, covert night missions, the triumphs and tragedies we faced together.

"He was a good man, your father," I say.

She smiles, then clears her throat. "To be honest, I'm not surprised that he asked you to watch over me. He was always so worried about my future."

"You do like to take risks, Leila."

She laughs. "I'm just living my life. Anyway, isn't that what life is about? Taking risks and trying new things?"

"It can be. Sure."

She studies me. "You know, I kind of expected more from you, considering your background. You really didn't conceal yourself very well."

I'm not sure how to reply to that. "Why didn't you confront me sooner?"

"I considered it. But, to be honest, I liked you watching over me. I didn't want to scare you off. And…well, maybe this makes me weird, but it was kind of fun, knowing you were there and knowing that you didn't know that I knew." She stands up and pulls off one of the layers she's wearing, revealing a racerback tank that puts her curves on full display. "Whew. God, that feels better."

I swallow, feeling a little crazy from how much I want her.

"Ready to keep going?" she asks, oblivious to my staring.

It's a long day of hiking. But, man, is it a beautiful place to be. The fiercely blue sky, the snow-capped mountains, the meadows of wildflowers and lush woodland…I've never been anywhere like this. We keep passing old cottages that have probably been here for hundreds of years. The chime of cowbells carries through the air from the grazing cattle in the fields. The fresh mountain air feels incredible in my lungs.

Every so often, Leila pauses to take a photo of the view—and I can't help myself from taking in the view of her.

It's late afternoon when we finally begin our descent. We reach the village of Les Contamines-Montjoie as the sun is heading down. This time, when we walk into a hotel, we're able to each book a room.

"I'll put you in side-by-side rooms," the man at the reception desk tells us. Then he slides a map in front of us. "Here is a map of the village. There are many fine places to eat. I especially recommend this restaurant." He taps one spot with a pen. "You will have a very good meal."

We thank him, take our room keys, and head toward our rooms on exhausted feet.

"What do you think?" Leila says as we're about to reach our rooms. "Should we try his recommendation?"

What harm is there in having a meal with her? It's nothing romantic.

"Sure," I say.

And so, after we both shower and change into clean clothes—tugging off a pair of boots has never felt so fucking good—Leila and I go out to dinner together.

It's funny, the nerves I feel as we're walking over to the restaurant, as if this is a real date.

But this isn't a date, I remind myself.

Still, I can't help myself from pulling out the chair for Leila when we reach our table.

"Thank you," she says, smiling at me, her eyes shining.

I settle into the seat across from her and try to focus my attention on the menu. But the menu is small and there's only so many times I can read it over. And our server comes by soon, anyway, whisking away the menus after taking our dinner order.

"I've been thinking about it," Leila says, settling more comfortably into her chair, "and I've decided that it's very unfair that you know so much about my life, while I know so little about yours."

It's a fair point. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Well…to start with…where did you grow up? Do you have siblings? What made you want to become a Navy SEAL?" She stops and grins. "That, plus everything else."

I tell her what she wants to know. I tell her that I grew up in Maine. That I have a couple sisters. That I became a Navy SEAL because I wanted to serve my country and make an impact on the world.

"You know, this isn't really making things fair," I point out, unable to help the smile that spreads across my lips. "You might think I know you, but I only observed you. There's plenty I don't know about you."

"I don't know, Nolan," she says, shaking her head. "You know what time I wake up in the morning and what time I go to bed. You know my coffee order and how often I go out with my friends. I know you were watching whenever I used my laptop in front of the window. That you saw the websites I browsed and the emails I wrote."

Something clicks. "You sat there on purpose, didn't you? You wanted to make sure I would see certain things."

She laughs and bites back a smile. "Some of it, yes. Like when I booked this trip. But it wasn't always so orchestrated. Sometimes I'd just sit down there without thinking. Or I'd do it on purpose, but then I'd forget that you were watching."

Our food arrives. It looks and smells delicious, but neither of us picks up our forks. We're too focused on each other right now.

"Are you upset about me watching you?" I ask.

"I was at first," she says. "But no, not once I figured out what was going on."

"It really hasn't bothered you? Hasn't it felt like an invasion of privacy?"

"It would have if it was anyone else. But it was you."

Our eyes meet. The air feels warm between us. I have the urge to shove this table aside, pull her into my arms, and kiss the fuck out of those sweet lips of hers.

And then what? What the hell do I think I'm doing, thinking like that? I can't pursue her.

"You don't know me, Leila," I say.

"I know that you're the kind of man who makes good on his promises," she says.

"That doesn't mean I'm not a dangerous man."

She smiles. "Would my father ask a dangerous man to look after me?"

I should have known she would call my bluff. "Your father asked me to keep my distance. I need to keep the promise I made to him. I'm a man of my word."

"Why did he make you promise that?"

"He didn't want you to catch on. He thought you'd be upset about the arrangement."

"But I'm not."

"Fine. But maybe he had other reasons, too. That's not for me to figure out. I gave my word."

"What other reasons would he have had?" she asks.

He knew I would want her. Is it possible? Did David know that he needed to keep me at a safe distance from his daughter for that reason, too?

When I don't say anything, Leila speaks again. "Above all else, my father always wanted me to be happy. And I bet anything that he would want you to be happy, too."

My heart is jackhammering. I can't deal with this. I need to put a shield up. I need to make sure she doesn't figure out how much I want her.

"What has happiness got to do with anything?" I ask, picking up my fork and digging it into my dinner. "Eat, Leila. The food's getting cold."