Lieutenant Commander Stud Page 3

  I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, it appeared.

  “Yassss, bitch! That’s the spirit. Okay, so I think you should wear the red dress. I’ve got a fluffy coat that goes with it. Oh, and you have to do heels. I mean, this is not the big city but it’s, like, all we have.”

  “You don’t think it’s a bit much? I mean, it’s just a small town bar.” I’d been a couple times under similar circumstances. I wasn’t a prude, after all, but I’d never dressed up for the occasion.

  “Tonight, darling, we’re going to let our hair down,” Paula said, and flipped her bright, red locks to drive home the point.

  I couldn’t help the nerves that bubbled up in response.

  Chapter 4

  Ryan

  I positioned myself in the corner of the room and looked out on the locals from behind my beer bottle. I swigged some of the stuff back, then clunked the bottle down on the table. Most of the local folks had given us a wide berth.

  Jack’s enthusiasm for our little trip had worn off pretty damn fast when the chatter quieted upon our entrance.

  “At least the pizza’s good,” Jack said, and took a bite of his slice.

  “Chef probably spat on it,” I replied, just to piss on his parade a little. The beer had already lowered my inhibitions. I’d turned back to change into plain clothes back at the motel – I always brought a set of plain clothes with me, out of habit. Civilian wear had helped grease the wheel in countless stores in Meek Springs.

  Folks were more likely to sell to a buff guy in Levis than they were to a soldier with a buzz cut and a commanding presence.

  Jack chewed through another slice of pizza, then chased it down with more beer. Rain thundered on the roof, but it was a buzzing noise, barely audible over the twanging country music that blasted through the speakers.

  Smoke drifted from cigarettes at the bar. Men gathered around and laughed at each other’s lame jokes. Women gossiped or hung off their boyfriends.

  “She’s pretty,” Jack said, and nodded to one of them – a chick in a mini and high heels. I didn’t want to think how cold she’d get outside. “Looks like she’d be a good lay.”

  “Don’t be such a fucking sleaze, Whitmore,” I said.

  “Man, you really have changed. You never had a problem talking about this shit before. You drooled over bitches as much as I did,” he replied.

  It wasn’t the drooling that was the problem. It was that he lacked any form of respect, and that wasn’t something I could get on board with. “They’re women, not bitches.”

  “Sorry, Ellen,” he snorted. “I didn’t realize you’d gone all feminist on me.” He inhaled another slice of pizza. “Fuck it, I’m gonna get us another round. You keen?”

  I didn’t reply, but hey, it wasn’t as if we had anything better to do. This was infinitely better than the nightmares I’d be having back in the motel. Every night it was the same. Sand, and flashes of blood, and explosions. Screams. The weight of a dying man in my arms.

  Jack meandered off to the bar and the crowd separated around him. We weren’t in uniform, but the folks in here knew a soldier when they saw one. The buzz cut gave it away.

  I sighed and pressed the cold bottle to my forehead. I’d had enough shit to last me a lifetime.

  Fuck it, we shouldn’t have come here. If something did go down, I’d be directly responsible, and at the rate Jack imbibed alcohol it would be a miracle if we left this bar unscathed.

  Jack disappeared amongst the locals and I held my breath, waited for the first shout followed by the thwack of fist meeting jaw.

  Nothing. The soldier squished between two huge fellows with their ladies on their arms, both women admired Jack’s ass, then made his way back to the table with two brimming glasses.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “More beer,” he said. “It’s their micro-brew. Tastes pretty fucking awesome.”

  “Hey, we’re out of uniform but that doesn’t mean you get to lose your sense of –”

  The door swung inward and let in a gust of icy air and water, followed by a young redheaded woman, and a gorgeous, petite blonde, drowning in a fluffy coat.

  “What’s with you?” Jack asked, and nudged my elbow with the base of his glass. “You’ve lost your words. That never happens. Where’s the commanding Lieutenant I know so well?”

  That woman stripped off her coat and revealed a tight, curvy body. She said something to her friend.

  Turn around. Turn around. I had to see her face. It couldn’t be her. Chanel, that was her name, she wouldn’t come here, surely? Why would she when she had a home to get to and work in the morning?

  “Dude, what the fuck are you staring at?” Jack asked, just as the music dipped. His voice rang out and just about every human fucking being in the bar turned to stare. Including her.

  And it was her. Chanel.

  Crystal blue eyes and soft, cherry red lips which matched that dress. Sweet baby Jesus, the woman made me fall apart and I’d barely spoken to her. I cleared my throat and broke eye contact. “Thanks for that, Jack.”

  “Holy shit,” he whispered, as the music picked up again. A Shania Twain classic, this time. “It’s her. It’s the hot chick. You’ve got to bang her. Show her a good time.”

  I glanced in her direction, but she was caught in what appeared to be an argument with her friend. The redhead gesticulated wildly. She pointed at our table while Chanel shook her head, cheeks now matching the color of that dress.

  “Fuck her, dude,” Jack hissed.

  “If you call me dude one more time, Whitmore, I’m going to drag your white ass back to base in the rain and make you run laps. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I switched my gaze back to the soldier in front of me. How had I ever been friends with this jackass. There was brotherhood, sure, but he was a creep.

  “And enough about banging women. We’re here because we’re stuck here. There won’t be any of that.”

  “Hi!” The redhead popped up beside our table, and I almost knocked over my glass. “I’m Paula. What’s your name?”

  “Jack,” he said, and extended his hand. “It’s good to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Paula,” she said, and fluttered long lashes at him. Chanel stood behind her, hovered and looked ready to run.

  “Paula,” Jack said, and shook her hand. “That’s a beautiful name. And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

  I restrained a grimace. Did he have to be such a fucking cheeseball?

  “Her name’s Chanel,” Paula said. “And I believe she already knows you.”

  “Not me.” Jack tilted his glass toward me. “But she knows him. Isn’t that right, Ryan?”

  If not for the country music and shouts of laughter from the bar, the quiet which separated us would’ve been awkward.

  “Do you like to dance?” Paula shouted over the music.

  “Sure,” Jack said.

  “Good.” She hooked her arm through his and dragged him from his seat. They set off for the tiny dance floor in the corner, Jack’s hand already seated in the small of the redhead’s back.

  I gulped down some beer to deal with the vacuum they’d left behind.

  Chanel bit her bottom lip and looked at her feet. “Well, it was nice to see you again,” she said, then turned in the direction of the bar.

  “Wait, where are you going?” I lurched forward and caught her by the wrist. The press of my skin against hers sent my senses into overdrive.

  She looked at the point of contact, then swallowed. “I don’t want to bore you, Lieutenant. Or frustrate you.”

  “You’re not doing either of those things.”

  “It sure seemed like I did them today,” she replied.

  Oh. Shit. My attitude in the store left an impression on her, all right. I had good reason for that. She was a civilian and didn’t understand my life as a soldier. I didn’t blame her for that but her insistence today definitely irritated me.

/>   “Sorry about that,” I grunted. “I guess I need to work on my people skills. Would you like to take a seat? I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “I – sure,” she said, and slipped in next to me. Her hip touched mine.

  Tension destroyed thoughts of conversation. Her heat filtered through her dress and my pants, and I swallowed. Couldn’t keep my mind out of the gutter. It’d been years since I’d touched a woman, let alone one as beautiful and soft as Chanel.

  “You smell amazing,” she said, then blushed. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

  “Thanks.” I chuckled. “You look beautiful.”

  She colored and shifted a little closer to me. Any closer and she’d have been in my lap. “I thought you went back to the base,” she said.

  “Yeah, I was supposed to, but the storm rolled in. Can’t drive out in this weather,” I said. Weather. That was what our conversation had come to. Why was it so difficult to concentrate? I hadn’t had much to drink, yet. This should’ve been easy.

  She was a beautiful woman, but I’d never had trouble talking to one before.

  Chanel brushed her fingertips down my arm, and my mouth dried out. Fuck that. She couldn’t have this much power over me. One touch and I’d already stiffened for her. “How about that drink?”

  She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. “There are more interesting things to do than drinking in this town,” she said.

  “Even in this weather? I heard it might snow tonight,” I replied, and tracked her fingertips as they stroked. Up and down, back and forth. The hairs on my arm stood on end.

  “Especially in this weather,” she said. “I’m not usually this brazen. Okay, I’m never this brazen, but there’s something about you, Lieutenant. I – I don’t know how to explain it.” She turned, caught my eye, and pressed her breast against my bicep.

  Jesus H. Christ. I couldn’t deal with this. I was supposed to be the responsible one. Jack and Paula were out there rubbing up on each other.

  “I like the way you say that,” I said, instead of pumping the brakes on this whole encounter. I brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear.

  Her lips parted and she made a tiny noise which was almost lost in the clamor. Her fingers stalled their passage and came to rest.

  “I’d better get out of here,” I said. “I – uh, I need to get my rest. Get back to the base tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” Chanel glanced at her friend, who was now wrapped around Jack, then nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’m supposed to be staying over at Paula’s but I’d wager there won’t be space in her room tonight.”

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  “No!” Chanel measured her tone. “I mean, no, thank you. I can’t go back there tonight. It’s complicated.”

  Did I want to know what the complication was? Was she married or something? But no, the hand on my arm bore no ring, and she was young too. Her body tight and curved in all the right places. Shit, what did that have to do with anything?

  “You can’t stay here,” I said. “I could get you a room at the motel.”

  “Get me a room?” Her lips twitched at the corners. Some of the sassiness I’d seen in the store streamed back, and I liked it. I liked her strength. “You’d get me a room to save me from spending the night listening to Paula engage in the no pants dance?”

  “No pants –” I burst out laughing. “I haven’t heard that in years.”

  She resumed stroking my arm, this time trailing her fingers over the cuff of my shirt and up to my neck. She tugged once on my earlobe. “I don’t think it’s be appropriate if you booked me a room. Besides, Mrs. Henny is already asleep at this time.”

  I couldn’t take much more of this. Each touch brought a wave of arousal and I wasn’t prepared for it. I’d never had a reaction like this before.

  Chanel seemed caught between shy and downright flirty. I loved it. It reflected how I felt about this situation. I never allowed myself a moment of pleasure, and this woman gave me just that.

  Looking at her was a vacation from the constant battle in my mind.

  Two men at the bar broke the tension between us by raising their fists. One of them – cross-eyed and red as a beet – yelled an insult. It was time to get out of there before things bubbled over. A couple guys would take the opportunity to pick a fight with a soldier.

  “Let’s talk about it upstairs,” I said. “I won’t leave you here. This isn’t a place for a woman like you.”

  “A woman like me?” she asked, eyes sparkling. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re better than this place,” I said.

  Pleasure flashed across her expression, and she hooked her arm through mine. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 5

  Chanel

  The motel room had a view of the street outside, now ice cold, the sleet from earlier freezing on the sidewalk. I’d slipped and almost fallen on the way up, but Ryan caught me and held me upright.

  I shuddered at the memory of that touch.

  The door clicked shut behind me, a beat passed, and then he was at my back. He didn’t invade my space, but he was close enough that heat poured from his skin and caressed mine. I’d left the fluffy coat back in the bar.

  I didn’t give a shit. Paula could buy a new one for all I cared.

  “I’m not usually like this,” I said, and didn’t turn around. “I don’t just come up to strange men’s rooms and talk to them about – I don’t know. I don’t do this.” Perhaps, I shouldn’t have come.

  But whatever force drew me to Ryan glued me in place.

  “I’m not like this either,” he said.

  We spoke as if we’d already decided to take this further. My insides clenched and tightened up. Low heat spread from my tailbone inward, curling through my core, warming me from the inside out.

  My cheeks flushed and I trembled. He hadn’t even touched me, yet. I couldn’t look at him.

  “Chanel,” he said. He placed those massive hands, too big, too strong, on my hips and rotated me.

  Our eyes met and I gasped. Electric connection. Too strong. What the hell was this? “Hi,” I said, and smoothed my fingers down his arms, over the muscles of his biceps and down to those hands.

  I didn’t have other words for him. I lost the ability to articulate anything of worth.

  He tugged me a little closer, and I gasped again. He was hard. Painfully hard, and the outline of his dick told me everything I needed to know about his size. Holy fucking shit. I was in huge trouble here. Excuse the pun.

  I stammered, but nothing came out.

  “Sorry,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held a beautiful woman.”

  Once again, words failed me. I settled for slipping my arms around his neck and chaining him. Pressing my breasts to his body.

  I’d done this kind of thing with one other man, but I had the distinct impression that Ryan would ruin my memory of him. That he’d ruin me for anyone else, for that matter.

  It wasn’t just his body, his eyes, the tension connecting us. It was everything about him.

  There was something behind all of this, a deeper meaning which terrified me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Sure? I can take you home. I’ve got the truck out –”

  I cut him off by circling my hips. A slow rhythm.

  He drew breath. Eyelids fluttered. “Irresistible,” he muttered, then cupped my cheek and drew his lips closer to mine. Closer, closer, painfully close, hot breath dancing across my skin. Smell of smoke and beer, and then the heady scent beneath it all. The smell that was just so him.

  It reminded me of warm days under the summer sun. Of comfort and home.

  His lips touched mine and I melted against him.

  “Oh God,” I groaned, into his mouth. Finally, I could speak again.

  His tongue found mine and he massaged it with slow, sweeping motions. Moist and just fucking delic
ious.

  I sucked his bottom lip, then nibbled it, worked my hands down his back, gripping the muscles beneath his shirt. I tugged at the fabric, desperate to have it off him. I needed his skin against mine. He was so fucking hot it burned my soul.

  We broke apart. “Here,” he said, eyes unfocused. He lifted his arms.

  I grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. The sleeves hooked on those arms. And then he was topless and I lost the will to move.

  Planes of muscles, a six pack, definition I’d only seen in Vin Diesel movies and nowhere else. I quivered. “Wow,” I whispered. He wasn’t lean muscle. He was stocky and powerful.

  Ryan hooked his fingers under either of my dress’s straps. His gaze searched mine, now, checking, once again, that this was what I wanted.

  I chewed my bottom lip and gave the tiniest nod. Yes, I wanted this. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted this.

  He worked the straps over my shoulders and dragged them down. My breasts popped free, nipples puckering in the cool air.

  Ryan sucked in air. He bent in front of me and took my nipple between his lips. He licked a circle around it, then sucked hard.

  I slapped my hands onto his back and hung on. I’d never been big on breast play, but his tongue teasing my skin brought me to new heights. This was what it was supposed to feel like.

  I’d figured all the groans and moans in romantic movies were for show. Now, I got it.

  Ryan kissed a trail from me left nipple to my right, then nibbled it. Goosebumps spread from the point of contact outward.

  I was one big nerve-ending and I couldn’t handle much more of this. I needed him inside me. I jerked on his buckle, undid it, and stripped the belt off.

  Ryan growled and massaged my breasts with both hands. He gathered them together and took my nipples in his mouth, sucked hard and worked them with his tongue.

  “Oh.” It was all I could get out. I fumbled with the top button of his jeans. Finally, it popped free, and I wormed the zipper down. “Wait,” I said.

  He backed off immediately. “Okay?” He cleared his throat. “You okay?” His chest rose and fell, rapidly. He wanted this as much as I did.