As we walk to the reception, Mattie holds my hand and she continues to hold my hand as we leave. We have a wonderful dinner at a restaurant—I nearly cry, a real restaurant—and I eat left handed because Mattie won’t let go of me.
Then it’s time to leave.
On the sidewalk, I say goodbye to Darren and his family, giving Julie an extra-long squeeze just to give him hell. His sisters giggle, just as they’d done through nearly the entire meal.
Flash.
I blink and turn. Fucking paparazzi. Seriously? The flash goes off again. Mattie gasps and steps behind me. Darren looks at me with eyes wide, like I’d just transformed into some kind of rock star.
“Why don’t you all head on to the car. I’ll take care of this and join you. I’ll just be a couple minutes.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years is to not fight the tabloids. Give them a nibble and they’ll usually leave you alone.
Darren offers his empty arm to Mattie and he and his family walk away. I turn back to Christopher Linkous, and his inquiring mind.
“Congratulations, Link. How was boot camp?” He sticks a microphone in my face.
Alrighty. We’ll just jump right in. “Challenging, but very rewarding.” There. Even Dad’s PR team couldn’t complain about that.
“Word on the street is that you were given a choice between four years in the Army or prison. Is that true?”
Non-disclosure agreements suck ass. “I enlisted in the Army voluntarily. I look forward to my four years here and perhaps more.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
Damn. This man pisses me off. “I gave you my answer.”
His face turns smug. “Why isn’t your mother and father here today?”
I take a deep breath. “They were otherwise engaged. One more question.”
“Do you feel responsible for the death of Annalise Cochran?”
I want to punch him in the face. Instead, I tell him the truth. “Yes.”
He seems surprised. His mouth falls open and I continue. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about that morning and I go over and over in my head how I could have done things different.” I look directly at him. “I couldn’t save her and that eats at me.”
For the first time since Christopher’s been hounding me, I see compassion in his eyes. “Is that why you chose the Army? Redemption?”
I look at him. “That’s more than one question. Where do you want the picture?”
He directs me to the brick wall of the restaurant. Kinda boring, but I do as he wants. Taking this personal time with him might keep him off my back for a while. Maybe a long while. Being behind the gates of the base gets another check mark in my book.
I hold up my hands. “That’s enough. Safe travels home Christopher. Jeremy.” I nod at the camera man.
I walk away, but the flashes don’t stop. Why the hell are they taking pictures of my ass?
Chapter 8
Another chest bump. Another bro hug. Then Darren and his family are gone.
I turn to Mattie. “What are your plans for the weekend?”
She swallows and takes my hand. “I was hoping to spend it with you. If … if …”
I tip her chin up, forcing her to look me in the eye. “Two conditions.”
Her gaze falls from my eyes to my lips and back up. “What conditions?”
“First, are you still with Todd?”
She shakes her head.
Whew. I let out the breath I’d been holding.
I grin. “Are you eighteen yet?”
She smiles and flushes; a pretty pink that highlights the blue of her eyes. “Yes.”
She holds out the keys to the car she rented at the airport and drops them in my hand. “Take me anywhere you want.”
I load her into the rental that I’d stowed my duffle into on our way to the restaurant. I dig through the duffle and find my cell. I want to kiss it. It’s been so long since I’d had the damn thing turned on.
It powers on and I search for the address of the Hilton where I’d booked a suite a couple days ago. I knew I wasn’t going home and wasn’t sure where I’d be going for advanced training. Staying close-by, eating room service had sounded like a good idea. So had finding a warm body for the night.
I look over at Mattie.
Found one.
The best one.
Pushing Mattie’s straps down her arms is one of the most sensuous moments of my life. No alcohol; no drugs in my system. Just me and her … and those eyes.
“I can’t believe I’m here with you,” she says.
“I can’t either. I can’t believe you came.”
I kiss the spot where her collarbone meets her shoulder. Her breasts fill my hands and I brush my thumb across her nipples. They grow pebble hard in almost an instant.
“I want you,” she says and unbuttons my shirt. I look down at her as she kisses and licks her way down my chest and stomach, her mouth leaving a hot trail across my skin. They are hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses. Teeth stinging, tongue soothing. Everything feels good.
She looks up at me. “I want you in my mouth.”
I groan. I want that too.
Her fingers unbutton and unzip me, then push my pants down my legs. She’s on her knees and presses her face against my cock. Only the thin layer of my boxers separates us.
“I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten.”
I smile. Please say more, I think. Feed the ego.
She sits back on her heels and presses her hands against my thighs and down to my calves. “You’re so muscular now. Huge. So quickly.”
Oh. That kind of huge.
Her fingers move up my inner thigh and into the waistband of my boxers. She pulls down and my cock springs out. She laughs and wraps her fingers around me. “I do remember the size of this.”
My breathing stops as her tongue flicks out to taste me. My eyes want to close. They try to close, wanting to block out the rest of the world until there’s nothing but her warm breath and hot tongue. But I keep them open, watching my cock disappear and reappear in her mouth. My balls tighten as I watch her take me, over and over, into her mouth.
Her lips close around the tip while her tongue teases me in circles. I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull, just to the point where pleasure merges into pain. She moans and I’m rewarded by the vibration.
Her fingers grip my ass as she takes me into her mouth again. Deeper. Deeper. Her lips stretch impossibly wide as she gets closer to the base.
I watch.
I want.
I don’t move. I don’t want to push her gag reflex. The tip is in her throat, I can feel her swallow. God. So deep. So fucking deep. Then I’m sliding out and her fist is pumping me while she teases the head again, catching her breath.
“You’ve got to stop,” I say and pull her up, then push her dress and panties down her legs. I want to stand there and stare. Stare at her beautiful rose tipped breasts, her full hips, bare cleft before dragging her to the bed. She laughs when I toss her down and then sobers when I pull out a condom and roll it down my length.
I slide up her body, licking up her thigh and pause at her clit, breathing in her scent. I lick and suck her, sliding my tongue in deep. She thrashes and I hold her hips in place while I make love to her with my mouth. She comes, screaming her way through it.
So sensitive.
I love that.
Continuing a path up her body, I kiss her stomach, her breasts, her throat before capturing her mouth. Then I’m inside her, groaning from the sheer heat of her. She sucks my bottom lip into her mouth, her body wrapping around mine.
She cries out, sinking her teeth into my shoulder as I plunge hard, all the way to the root. I hold still, giving her time to adjust, feeling her hot breath on my skin. My body screams at me to move, so I do, marveling at how well we fit together.
I pick up speed and hiss as her nails rake down my back. I love it. The pain. The pleasure. Both
merging into something wonderful. Without thinking, I scrape my teeth across her neck and suck.
She doesn’t stop me, but I stop myself. I want to eat her alive, but she’ll have to face her parents in a couple days.
“No. Please. Mark me,” she gasps. “I want to remember this for days. Weeks.” Then she offers me her neck.
I suck and plunge and fight the orgasm so close to the surface. I don’t want to come just yet. Her body tightens further, her breath heaving, her cries growing louder. I twist my hips and thrust, our bodies colliding together and toss her over the edge. Then follow.
Over the next twenty-four hours, I lose count the number of times we made love. In the bath. The shower. Against the wall. On the couch.
My dick is raw, but I don’t give a shit. I want her constantly. She wants me too. And time is ticking away too fast.
“You’re talking in letters,” she says, laughing and taking a drink of orange juice.
I laugh too and feed her another bite of waffle dipped in maple syrup. We’d been talking about the future. Our future. Crazy, but true.
“Long story short. On Monday, I fly out to begin Advanced Individual Training—that’s the AIT I mentioned. In the meantime, I’m going to study my ass off for the ASVAB, can’t remember what that stands for. But the higher I score, the better chances I have of going all the way.”
She giggles. “You? Study?”
I pop a strawberry in my mouth. “I know. Who would have ever guessed.” I grin, remembering all my horrible grades in school, simply because I didn’t give a damn. “Then I’ll move on to Airborne School, then, RIP, Ranger Indoctrination Program. And see what happens after that.”
She eats a blueberry. Chews. Swallows. “You can go all the way. I know it.”
I frown. “Well, all the way might not work, timing wise. I’d love Green Beret, but I have to be twenty to join and still have three years of service left when I apply. If I stay only the four years…” I lift a shoulder “…it won’t work.”
She pauses, a new blueberry pressed to her lips. “Do you want to stay longer than four years?” Her eyes are huge. Searching.
I lift a shoulder again and lean forward. “Depends on if I have anything waiting for me at home.”
She swallows and lowers the blueberry, staring at it as it rolls in her hand. Then those blue eyes look up. “I’ll wait for you.”
I look at her and reach up to push her blonde hair from her face. “Don’t say something you don’t mean.”
She wraps her hands around my wrist and pulls me toward her until her lips are nearly touching mine. “I’ll wait for you.”
I pull back, searching her eyes again. Looking for the truth I desperately need. “Four years is a really long time.”
She pulls me to her again. “I’ll wait for you.”
Chapter 9
Three months later…
Advanced Individual Training flew by. Christmas did too. I still didn’t want to go home, so Mattie came to me, bringing a little tree—and presents from my parents and siblings—with her. We spent my entire leave in another hotel room, the twinkle lights flashing as we made love over and over.
I’ve never been so happy.
Or so loved.
On Christmas Day, Mattie told me that she loved me. It was the greatest gift in the world.
Now, I’m in Fort Benning, Georgia, ready to begin Airborne School, one of around eighteen thousand to descend on this location each year. I’m totally psyched. It’s what I’ve been waiting for. I’m going to learn to be a paratrooper.
I have my good luck charm in my pocket—a platinum four-leaf clover. A present from Mattie. She even had our initials engraved on it.
“You are becoming a total pussy, Duff.”
I slip the charm back in my pocket and scowl at Darren. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Engaged Man. You went and put a ring on it. Can’t be more pussy than that.”
I’d been stoked to learn that Darren would be training with me. There were even a few other guys I knew. This is freaking awesome. I can’t believe how excited I am.
“Okay, warriors. Listen up.”
He called us warriors!
Not maggots.
Not recruits.
Not scumbags.
I love Airborne training already.
“You’re about to start your first day of Basic Airborne. Following this training, you will love the idea of falling through the air with the hope that some material and rope will open in a timely fashion and float your ass down to the ground with a pillow soft landing.”
A few of the guys chuckle. Chuckle! And we all don’t have to drop and give the sergeant twenty. This is the greatest Army day of my life.
“I’m Master Sergeant Ingle,” the voice booms over the cacophony of the helicopter rotors. “I’m not your friend. You are still boots in my world, but you’re special boots. Future warriors, and I’ll treat you with respect. But I won’t let you off easy.”
He goes on to explain what we can expect over the next three weeks. Ground week. Tower week. Jump week.
I try not to snarl at ground week. I’ve been on the ground too long. I want up. As high as possible.
“Who here has parachute experience.”
My hand is the first in the air. About five others go up too.
Ingle walks over to the first guy, gives him a close assessment. “Private Murphy. How many jumps have you logged?”
“I’ve jumped seventeen times, sir.”
Ingle walks over to the next with the same question. Then the next and on down the line. Jumps range from one to forty-three. Then he gets to me.
“Private Duffy. How many jumps have you logged?”
“One hundred and twenty-four, sir.”
He faces me. “Impressive, Private Duffy. How old were you when you first jumped?”
“I was eleven years old, sir.”
He grins. “So you were a badass before you had hair under your arms.”
“Hooah!”
Turning to face the group, he says, “Today, we will test your level of fitness. If you pass our standards, you’ll move on. If you don’t, you leave. You’re welcome to come back if you attain our fitness levels in the future. Understood?”
“Hooah!” we reply in unison.
I love that sound.
The PT assessment is a breeze. Forty-two pushups and fifty-three sit-ups in two minutes then a two-mile run in 15:54. Easy.
Damn. Maybe not so easy. I’m surprised to see about fifty men walk away. There’s no time to wave them off as we’re pulled immediately into our first tasks. We’re given chutes and are instructed on how to pack them and conduct safety checks.
Over.
And over.
And over.
But I get why they make us do seemingly simple things until we nearly puke from the boring repetition. Muscle memory. During high stress events, they want us to automatically know how to pack a chute, load an aircraft, exit an aircraft, pull a reserve chute if necessary, automatically roll a perfect landing—all without even thinking. So I pack the fucking thing again.
Ground week is more fun than I thought it would be. Still hard physically. Still boringly repetitious. And sometimes it’s only hurry up and wait. But we train on a mock door, the lateral drift apparatus and are finally on the 34-foot tower.
I’m surprised by how many men are scared of that height and are shaking before they make their jump. It worries me for them. This is thirty-four feet. How will they handle it when they jump from 1,200 in two weeks?
By week two, I’m really psyched. I’m getting closer to truly being in the air. It’s tower week, where we’re dropped from a 250-foot tower. But first … of course … it’s practice, practice, practice. We’re on the swing landing trainer, simulating all kinds of problems we could get into during a landing. Wire, trees, high winds. We never know what to expect … just like real life, I guess.
At the end of the week, it’s a beautiful clear day and we’r
e, one by one, strapped in and hauled up to the top of the tower. At the top, my chute is released and falling.
Floating.
Freedom.
Screaming.
Oh my god, so much screaming.
I land a little hard, but stay on my feet. The screaming was only in my head. Just my head. Only in my head.
“You alright, Private Duffy?” Sergeant Ingle asks.
I give myself a mental shake. “Hooah, Sergeant.”
He eyes me, then nods and I let out a breath. I look up at the tower. Will the screaming ever go away?
Week three and I’m ready. Mentally. Physically. Ready to put my training into action. We get five jumps this week. Three of them Hollywood style and two combat jumps in full gear. One is a night jump. Something I’ve never done.
Here I am, in the belly of this big ass plane, sitting side-by-side with my brothers. Some look excited and some look terrified. I smile, wondering how many ways they are kicking themselves for ever thinking this was a good idea.
An announcement is made—we’re 1,250 feet up and the doors of the plane open up. Hell yeah. We’re over the drop zone.
“Thirty seconds.”
We stand and hold onto our lead and begin shuffling our way to the exit. Adrenaline is pumping. Heart thumping. From excitement, not fear.
“Go, go, go!”
One by one, each man shuffles forward and jumps, only a second apart. Then it’s my turn.
Hoo-fuckin-ah!
I’m flying, free falling, watching the chutes open up below me. I wait for the scream, and it comes, but it isn’t as loud.
“I’m sorry, Anna,” I say as I pull my chute and I’m pulled backwards into the sky.
I’m not sure what I expected to happen. Whatever it was, it didn’t.
Now I drift peacefully, watching earth grow larger, welcoming me home.
Chapter 10
Only two days left in Airborne School and I’m actually pretty sad to see it go. Excited too. After graduation, I’ll be assigned to the 75th Ranger Regiment to attend the Ranger Indoctrination Program (RIP) as soon as there’s an opening.
Badass - The Complete Series: A Billionaire Military Romance Page 5
