Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  Heavy footsteps crunched on the sandy concrete floor. “Anyone else in here?” a deep male voice asked.

  Tara’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening.

  “I know you heard me.”

  Damn, damn, damn, Tara thought. She wriggled her bottoms up over her ass and waited.

  “I said, is there anyone in here but you, chocolate ice cream seductress? Hell of a blow job you gave that cone. Not too keen on the toothy finale.”

  Her breath stayed firmly lodged in her throat.

  “Are you deaf? Do you need me to sign?” he asked. “My brother’s deaf. I know sign language quite well.” A hand appeared over the top of the painted stall, making some sort of gesture.

  She giggled in spite of herself. Stop encouraging him. “No, I don’t need you to sign,” she blurted out. “This is the women’s room. You need to leave.”

  “That’s not what you indicated sticking your fingers down your throat,” he countered, dropping his bag on the floor.

  She hoped he wasn’t carrying a gun or a knife or any kind of weapon.

  “That sign was loud and clear.” He let out a low, sexy chuckle that seemed to come from his groin.

  Tara groaned inwardly. Damn, damn, damn, he’s hot. “I, uh…I was only teasing you. Nothing more. I have a boyfriend whom I love with all my heart.” Oh, gag me. I sound like Mary Poppins.

  “That’s cool. I have no quarrel with that.”

  The door opened again and a woman squealed in surprise.

  “Could you give us a minute?” Adonis said. “My girlfriend and I are having a disagreement.”

  “Uh, sure. No problem. I can use the bathroom across the street at the McDonald’s.”

  “Thanks so much. I really appreciate your kindness,” he said. “I need to patch things up with her. I’ve been such a fool. I made a big mistake and I want to make it up to her.”

  His voice came out sounding all smooth and sincere. It’s the southern drawl. Works like a charm. Tara rolled her eyes.

  “Sure thing,” the female tittered.

  Tara could picture her instant infatuation. She wanted to fork the female’s eyes from her head, yelling, Leave him be! He’s mine!

  Alone once more, she said, “You need to leave.”

  “Do you want me to?” he asked.

  “I…maybe. What are you doing in here?” She felt ridiculous, huddling inside this open stall, talking to Adonis through the flimsy wall separating them.

  “That depends on you. I heard you talking to your boyfriend on the bus. Maybe I can help.”

  “Help? How can you help?”

  He stepped into view before her, six foot plus of bronze muscle and brawn, wearing shorts and Vans canvas shoes with no laces.

  Her hands flew to her crotch in an attempt to shield. Sweet baby Jesus, you’re gorgeous. Her mouth fell open as she stared at his visage, dumbfounded.

  “Smells like pussy in here.” He placed a hand on either side of the metal stall, trapping her.

  “It’s a ladies’ bathroom. Pussies are revealed all day long.” She licked her lips.

  “Smells like arousal, darlin’. That’s a smell I know and love. It’s one of my favorite scents.”

  Her eyes flicked to his tented shorts and back to his mouth. Both appeared plump and succulent.

  “Like what you see?”

  Her lips, which had clamped shut, refused to open. She pressed them together, tightly, in case they got ideas.

  He laughed. “I don’t mean to do anything without your consent, darlin’. That’s not my way. But a girl who can give such good head to an ice cream cone is looking for a good time. That’s my guess.”

  Her mind, which had taken a sudden, unplanned vacation, refused to comment. Her body, gushing fluid between her legs in eager anticipation, weighed in heavily.

  He took a step, crowding her in the tiny stall. Lifting her arm with his meaty hand, he brought her fingers to his lips and sniffed. “Yep. I win. Aroused pussy.” He inserted her fingers into his mouth, closed his eyes and sucked, a throaty hum accompanying his actions.

  She stared at him, feeling both petrified and incredibly turned on. “What are you doing?” she whispered, feeling completely out of her element.

  Releasing her fingers, he said, “Nothing you don’t want me to,” training his clear blue gaze on her with military precision.

  “How’d you get the scar?” she asked, studying the puckered flesh beneath his eye.

  “What’s your guess?”

  “I don’t know. Combat? Fight with a knife? Bobcat attack?”

  “Works for me,” he said, smiling slightly. “Touch me,” he murmured, lowering his eyes to his crotch. He tugged his shorts down, revealing a cock so big she had a hard time believing it was real.

  “I…what do you want me to do?”

  The bathroom door swung open and she gasped, horrified at being caught.

  He pivoted his head, looking over the top of the stall, and said, “I’m sorry, this is a private moment between me and my girlfriend. We’re trying to sort out an argument. She’s crying right now. I hate to see her cry.”

  Tara made an exaggerated, forced sniffle.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” a concerned female said. “He’s not hurting you, right?”

  “Only my heart,” Tara said, faking a whimper for good measure.

  The door clanged shut.

  “We could be arrested,” Tara whispered.

  “Not if we don’t get caught,” he whispered back.

  She eyed his resplendent hardness. Veins lined the organ which sprang from a nest of curly, dark blond hair, the same hair that marked the trail down his belly. A reddish brown, his manhood could be a month long study for her art class. Way different than Justin’s little sprout. She inhaled sharply, thinking, Stop it. I love Justin, remember? The sexy man before her got the best of her. “You’re beautiful,” she breathed.

  “So are you,” he murmured. “And I’ll bet you don’t even know it.” He clasped her wrist between his fingers and brought it to his erection. “Touch me,” he said again, his voice huskier than before.

  “I don’t…” she said, curling her fingers around the hard heat. His girth was so large, her fingertips barely touched. “Like this?”

  “Yeah, baby.” He closed his eyes, blond eyelashes a stark contrast against his sunbaked cheeks, and began to rock into her grip. “Touch yourself. The way you were before I got here,” he said. “Put your mouth around me like you did that ice cream. Fucking hot. So fucking hot,” he repeated, as if talking to himself.

  She opened wide and took him into her mouth, gagging when he jammed himself against the back of her throat.

  “Easy, baby. Take it easy. My fault. You’re new to this, I can tell.” His hands gripped the sides of her head.

  She worked her hand around his length, her mouth sucking the swollen head, as she fingered herself, unsure what felt the best. Sensory overload makes it all feel exquisite, she decided, to the nth degree.

  “Oh, yeah. Like that. Jack me off, baby. Make me come.”

  When it seemed like he would explode, he seized her vigorously working hand and her bobbing head and stilled them both. “Not yet. Only use your hands on you and on me. Tell me how hot you think you are.”

  She stopped, frowning, and gazed up at him, framed by a backdrop of peeling whitish paint and graffiti.

  He dropped his gaze to her face. “Tell me,” he commanded. He brushed his thumb along her lower lip, moving it along the slippery inner wall, stretching her lip.

  No one had ever done that to her. A simple gesture, it felt hot as hell. She let out a small hum of pleasure.

  “Say it. Tell me how sexy you are. Use these luscious lips of yours.”

  “I can’t,” she said, overcome by shyness.

  “Say it. Tell me, baby. It turns me on when you tell me how hot you are.”

  Puzzled, her face scrunched up. You don’t know me. His pre-cum made her grip slip and sl
ide along his erection. “I’m, um. I’m sexy,” she said, feeling completely closed down by self-consciousness.

  “You’re sexier than that, baby. Tell me how hot you are.”

  The door opened and she gasped, plucking her hand away from him as if she burned herself on a hot stove.

  “Out!” he commanded.

  The metal door shut with a bang.

  “Back on the meat, baby. Keep stroking. Tell me how hot you are. Say it. You can do better, I know you can.”

  Like the Devil himself had her number, her phone buzzed from the recesses of her bag, lying on the floor next to her. Justin. Crap. She closed her eyes as guilt iced her veins.

  “That your guy?”

  “Probably.”

  Adonis seemed to grow harder. “Get it. Tell him you’re busy.”

  “I can’t talk to him with you here.”

  “Answer the phone before he hangs up. Do it.”

  She rummaged around for the iPhone, quickly sliding the icon to connect. “What? You won, huh. Good for you. I don’t care, Justin. You bailed on me.”

  Adonis gripped his shaft, pumping excitedly as she talked.

  “I’m having a great time. Loads of fun.” Actually, if I didn’t feel so guilty, this might be true. “Yeah? I’m the one not being supportive? Me? Well, fuck you, too. No. I’ll be back when I get back.” She disconnected the phone, an exasperated noise exploding from her mouth.

  “Give me your hand. Touch yourself. I’m close. Tell me how sexy you are.”

  “Yeah, I’m so sexy my boyfriend would rather race around a short track like a hamster than be with me.”

  “He’s an idiot. A boy. He doesn’t deserve you. Tell me how hot you are.”

  “I’m fucking hot,” she said, furious at Justin.

  “Yeah, baby. Tell me more.”

  She lifted her head to look at this sexy whack job of a man.

  His eyes closed, kissable lips parted, her mind flooded with thoughts of desire, inspired by his beauty. Adonis. In the flesh. In front of me. “I’m so fucking hot, I’m…I’m…you’re going to remember this moment for a long time.” Her anger shifted into intense arousal.

  “Oh, yes, I am. I’m going to remember this. I’m going be in a tin can under the sea and I’m going to remember you. Once more. Tell me how beautiful you are.”

  Submarine? Navy? Her fingers worked around her swollen clit. “Can’t. So close.”

  “Say it. Tell me,” he commanded.

  “I’m…I’m….” She groaned as her pleasure increased.

  “Tell me,” he roared.

  “I’m a goddess,” she blurted. “You’re Adonis and I’m Aphrodite. I’m beautiful beyond compare.”

  “So fucking hot. That’s so hot. Mouth, baby, mouth now. I’m about to explode.”

  Her climax shot up her spine like a rocket as her mouth closed around him. She moaned, humming around his erection as he pumped like a madman.

  “Oh, God, baby, here I come.” He yanked free from her mouth and fountains of hot fluid spurted on her face, chest, and legs.

  Not her favorite sensation. But then Adonis let out the sexiest animalistic sound she’d ever heard. Her core clenched as if she’d climax again from the sound itself.

  He seized her head between his palms and pulled her to his six-pack abs, pressing her into his flesh.

  Having never been in this kind of experience before, she sat, stunned, not sure what to do next. Should I say something? Tell him it’s hard to breathe with my nose smashed against his belly? Compliment him? She trapped her lip between her teeth, feeling shy, aroused, happy, sated and guilty as the sin itself.

  “God damn, you’re hot.” He laughed, releasing her, her sticky cheek peeling away from his skin before he began plucking squares of toilet paper from the dispenser. “Sorry about the mess. I guess I stored it up for you.”

  For me? Or any woman who caught your fancy?

  He swiped the gooey, snotty fluid from her face. Plucked more tissue out and dabbed at her chest and throat. Pulled out still more tiny squares and wiped the goo from her legs while she sat like a docile child, staring at his shrinking manhood. “There. I think I’ve got it. You might want to splash water on your face before you leave.” He dropped the wads behind her in the toilet, tugged his shorts up, stood tall, and said, “I’m going to go wash up. Wait here. I’ll leave. Make sure no one’s lingering outside. Then you leave.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “What did you think?”

  “I don’t know, I guess I didn’t think. I sure didn’t expect this.”

  “Right. But you enjoyed yourself. I know I did.” He kissed the top of her head and moved out of the stall, leaving her plunked on the metal throne.

  Again she heard the water gush in the stainless steel sink. Paper towels pulled from the dispenser. Footfalls along the concrete floor. Door opening and clanging shut. And she sat alone once more.

  She stood, massaging her rear. The stupid metal toilet seat had left marks on her ass and thighs. She repositioned her bikini bottom, spotting some of Adonis’s leftovers on the floor. She smeared them into an unrecognizable streak with her flip flop. Flushing the toilet, she watched the evidence of what she’d done swirl in a sweeping spiral and disappear into the bowels of the sanitation system. “Done and done.”

  She stepped to the stainless steel sink, washed her hands and face, peering at herself in the polished metal that served as a reflecting sort of mirror. I don’t look any different. Wetting a paper towel, she wiped the remains of Adonis from her skin. But I feel transformed.

  The sky’s really beautiful, she thought, as the bathroom door closed behind her. Nice sunset. She craned her head in every direction. No sign of Adonis, though. As she trekked jauntily to where she’d left her towel, she thought, I’m going to have to do something about Justin. Maybe this time I’ll be able to break up with him for good. She smiled at the two guys moving toward her, eyeing her. Still hot outside, but starting to cool to a sultry simmer.

  Their eyes lingered, savoring, appreciating before sauntering past in a swagger.

  Yeah, I might be able to do this. Give him the boot. Enough’s enough. After all, I’m Aphrodite. Adonis is out there somewhere. And Justin’s only a stupid boy.

  Adonis

  Book Two

  Zack Brannon stepped from the garish, aqua-painted, concrete-block ladies room looking furtively right and left to see if any onlookers were around. Seeing nothing but a barely occupied beach and the beginnings of a glorious sunset dancing along the southern California coastline, he strode nonchalantly around the corner, his belongings in the big black sports bag hanging from his shoulder. The weather, which had been miserably hot times a thousand, had begun to cool to a somewhat tolerable level thanks to increasing wind. He might end up having to put his shirt back on if the breeze got any stronger.

  “Did it work?”

  “Excuse me?” He stopped short at the female intrusion into his thoughts of the very satisfying moment he’d experienced in the women’s room a few moments ago.

  “Is your relationship okay? Remember me? I needed to use the bathroom. You asked me to give you some privacy because you were having an argument with your girlfriend.” Huddled in a small stand of palm trees, next to one lone, straggly bush, a young woman took a drag from her cigarette, then waved it in the direction of the ladies room. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying.

  He shook his head slowly side to side, his lips forming a brittle line. “No, I think it’s over.” Stephanie, his former fiancée, had made it very clear…and continued to do so, each time he tried to contact her. Her last message read simply Go to hell. He blew out a ragged breath. I’m already there. He smiled slightly, thinking of the sexy young woman who’d sucked him off in the bathroom. Well, except for Aphrodite.

  She’d taken some of the edge off his pain. She’d given him something to carry back to his tin can sojourn besides painful memories. Quite honestly, after rec
eiving the boot from Stephanie, he didn’t know how he’d survive the next three months, trapped in a torpedo tube with a bunch of other guys, with oxygen levels kept so low it’s a wonder the one hundred plus males didn’t murder each other.

  Oh, right. Because we can barely stay awake to throw a punch. He grimaced, absentmindedly rubbing his scarred right hand. Wounds healed slowly in an oxygen deprived environment. That, he could deal with. The wound Stephanie inflicted? That one would take time—a hell of a lot of time.

  He cursed, spitting her name, engulfed in a wad of spit, into the sand. “Sorry,” he said to the female a few feet away. “I forgot my manners.” Maybe another round of buried at sea will be good for me. Maybe it will give me time to get over her. But what about the baby? How will I get over my child? A wave of grief more powerful than the pounding waves in his line of sight threatened to consume him.

  “I’m sorry for you,” she said, as if she were somehow involved in his life. “I tried to keep people out so you could have your private moment, but…” Her shoulder moved up and down. “They didn’t listen. They never do.”

  Zack stepped into her sandy oasis and studied her for a moment. Light brown shoulder-length hair, a kind face, about twenty-one, twenty-two, she reminded him of his younger sister. “Thanks, but you didn’t need to…”

  “I wanted to.”

  She said the words with such force, Zack’s eyebrows flew high on his forehead. “Well…thank you.”

  “I thought maybe if…if you could make it with your girl, then we might make it…my boyfriend and me. One good deed and all that. He broke up with me.”

  “Sucks.”

  “I’ll say. My heart feels…feels…” She stopped, shook her head side to side and lifted her cigarette in front of her face, smoke curling along her cheeks. “I started smoking again.”

  Zack reached across the gap between them and took the smoke between his first and middle finger, his hand lightly brushing hers. “It’s a bad habit. Better to be strong and let it go. Don’t start again.” He brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled, welcoming the harsh smoke into his grief torn lungs. The Navy no longer allowed smoking in submarines so he’d quit…sort of.