by Tia Siren
Copyright 2016 by Tia Siren - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Commander BIG
A Bad Boy Military Romance
By: Tia Siren
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Table of Contents
Commander BIG - A Bad Boy Military Romance Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
First Chapter Sample: ACE: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
Commander BIG - A Bad Boy Military Romance
Chapter 1
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Ashton Hughes jumped to attention. “Stand easy, Commander Hughes,” the captain said when he walked into the room. “Sit down, Commander.”
Ashton sat on an isolated wooden chair in the middle of the room and watched the captain take a seat behind his desk. Ashton had been waiting for fifteen minutes and was agitated. He hated tardiness, especially from the pen-pushing ranks. He was sure Captain Williams had never been on active duty, let alone put up with what he'd just gone through in Syria.
“As you know, your commanding officer, Captain Todd, recommended you be referred to me for assessment. How are you feeling?”
Feeling? Ashton thought. How the fuck was he supposed to be feeling after he'd lost seven of his men? “I'm feeling fine, sir,” he said.
The captain's desk was covered with of photos of his family. Ashton looked at the picture of the attractive woman holding a young child and the picture of the captain on his wedding day. Who the hell took a photo of their wedding to work? he asked himself. The captain was around thirty, perhaps five years younger than Ashton, and he headed the psychology department at Leyton Naval Base, home to the Naval Special Warfare Group.
“Commander, after what you have been through, I would be extremely surprised if you were feeling anything at all, least of all fine. I understand your resistance to therapy. Many men in your position feel similarly. But your commanding officer and I both think it is necessary.”
Ashton looked at the captain. He was what he called a pretty boy. His hair was neatly cut and full of gel, and he still had a college boy face. “With respect sir, all I need is to get back to work, to my boys and defending the United States. I don't need any of this crap.”
“Crap, Commander? I understand how you feel. I do empathize. I know what type of man you are and what you have done for this country. Joining the navy at sixteen is commendable. You’ve spent many years in the service. At your current age of thirty-five, and having been through what you’ve gone through, perhaps it's time to unload your mind.”
Ashton hated having to call a college boy 'sir.' He didn’t hear empathy. He heard condescension. But the truth of the matter was, while he'd been risking his life to protect his country, this man had been studying his way to a higher rank. Rising through the ranks by doing nothing more than reading books.
“Sir, I came here today because I was asked to. I do not need therapy. I have been through things like this before and always dealt with them on my own.”
The Captain leaned forward and put his arms on his desk. “But you have never been involved in a debacle like the one that has just befallen you. Have you? You have never lost any of your men. Not one in all the operations you have been on. Frankly, Commander, that is simply amazing. And truly an accomplishment. This time, something went wrong. We just want to make sure your mental state wasn't the cause and that you have not had an adverse reaction to it because of it.”
It wasn't the cause, you fuck-head, Ashton thought. The reason he'd lost seven men was because he'd been given the wrong coordinates when they'd been flown into the area. They'd been delivered into an impossible situation. The fact any of his twenty men had survived was a miracle and due solely to their bravery.
“There's nothing wrong with my mental state. Can we wrap this up? I've got more important things to do.”
“I'm not sure it's that simple, Commander. You were asked for a report on the incident and you only gave half the story. Several of your superiors believe that you could be experiencing some mental trauma, keeping you from being able to recount exactly what truly happened out there. While we all respect how patriotically you have served, it would be unfortunate if you were reprimanded for not fully cooperating with the investigation into the events that led up to fatal injuries of your men.”
“Do what you have to, Captain.” Ashton stood up and saluted. He turned on his heel and left the room.
Chapter 2
Joe's Bike Shop was half an hour on foot from the naval base. As he walked, Ashton thought about how the armed forces had changed over the years. Gone were the days when men relied on pure physical fitness to get them through. He was brought up to believe that a fit body meant a fit mind, and that ethos seemed to have been forgotten. These days, they appeared to be governed by an army of shrinks, who made men like him feel useless. He wasn't some impotent weakling who needed to be mollycoddled, he was a fearsome fighting machine who actually killed people when he had to. The captain he'd just been speaking to would probably shit himself if he had to fire a gun.
“Hey Ashton,” Joe said as Ashton walked in the door. Joe was sixty but didn’t look a day over forty-five. Ashton had known Joe since he'd bought his first Harley fourteen years ago. He'd trusted him and relied on him to service all the bikes he'd owned, and the latest Roadster was no exception.
“How are you doing Joe? Is she ready?”
“Sure is. Ready and raring to go.”
Ashton loved that bike shop. To him, it was the smell of home: a delicious mix of leathers, oil, and rubber. Whenever he returned from active duty abroad, the first thing he did was get his motorcycle serviced.
“I'll have my boy bring her round to the front,” Joe said.
“Sure, what do I owe you?”
Joe knew what Ashton did for a living, as a military veteran himself, and he was reluctant to take money from Ashton just for looking the bike over. “Nothing.”
“No way. Here's two hundred,” Ashton said, peeling two notes from a large bundle.
“Have it on me, please. We only looked it over, there was nothing to do on it,” Joe protested as he handed the money back.
“You're a good man Joe, but you're a pain in the ass,” Ashton joked.
Neither of them took much notice of the leather-clad person who entered the store until she took off her helmet and shook out her hair. But once Ashton's eyes were fixed on her, they wouldn't leave. He loved the way her leather pants hugged her curvy thighs and ass, and the thought of her straddling a powerful Harley made his dick twitch. When she walked to the counter, he looked at her
face. Her eyes were large, round and wonderfully expressive. Her lips were red and full—Perfect for cock sucking, Ashton thought.
“Steady on, you'll give Joe a heart attack. He's not used to having beautiful women in here,” Ashton said.
“I don't suppose he is. It's a naval base, not a regular city,” she answered
“So you like big machines,” Ashton said. He wondered if she would pick up on the innuendo.
“I love 'em. The bigger the better,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.
“Then you'll love mine,” he said. “It's so big.”
Chapter 2
As hot as any man she'd ever seen was Vanessa's verdict when she looked at Ashton. She hadn't been at the naval base very long, but one thing was for sure: if it was full of guys as handsome as him, she was going to have a great time.
“Hi. I need a new pair of gloves,” she said, turning her attention from Ashton to Joe.
“Sure, follow me,” Joe said. Ashton leaned on the counter and watched as the woman wound her way between the display bikes to a rack of gloves on the back wall. As she walked, her round ass moved so seductively Ashton was unable to take his eyes away. She was just as he liked his women. Curvy.
Ashton waited until she'd paid for her purchase and held the door open for her as she left the store. Outside, Joe's son waited with Ashton's bike. He'd wheeled it around from the workshop at the rear.
“Listen, I haven't got much to do today. Do you fancy a bit of a cruise around?” Ashton asked. Vanessa threw her shapely leg over her bike and thought for a moment. His ego was bigger than his muscles and that was saying something. But she liked it. She liked being chatted up, it made her feel attractive
“Sure. You'll soon find out if you can keep up,” she said.
To Ashton, it was out of the question that a woman could ride faster than him. As they sped through the streets, he proved it. He was a macho rider with little consideration for fellow road users, but it got him around quickly.
As they shot down a straight piece of freeway he lost her in his rear view mirror. He pulled up and waited for her.
“Come on, slow mule!” he said when she arrived.
“You're a danger to yourself,” she said, shaking her head, “and others.”
When she unzipped her jacket to let some air inside, Ashton looked at her breasts. They were large and round and he was suddenly overcome with a desire to feel them.
“What do you say we pick up a bottle of vodka and go sit down somewhere?” he said, pointing to the liquor store across the road.
“Sure. Are there any decent parks around here? I'm new in town and I haven't found my bearings yet.”
“Yeah, I know the perfect spot. Follow me.”
Ashton picked up a bottle of Smirnov and decided he'd take her to a park on the edge of town. They parked the bikes and walked down the hill from the parking lot to a bench that overlooked a lake.
“Nice here,” she said, taking the bottle from Ashton and tilting it back to take a big swig.
“So how long have you been in town?” he asked.
“This is my first day.”
“Jesus. And you're already hooking up with men,” he exclaimed.
He was a cocky bastard she thought, but he was hot, so hot. His hair was dark brown and cropped short, and she loved his physique. Where she came from, men didn't have military physiques, but now she realized how darn sexy it was to look at men with bulging biceps, flat stomachs, and bone crushing thighs.
“Is this what you call a hookup? A bottle of vodka in a park?” she asked.
“Sure it's a hookup,” he said. “You don't think I ride around with a beautiful woman on a gorgeous bike for the hell of it, do you?”
They spent an hour drinking and talking about mundane things, like the ducks on the lake and the best places in town to eat. They were aware they could talk about much more interesting subjects, but both were reluctant to give much away about their pasts.
The bottle was almost empty when Ashton leaned across and kissed her on the neck. It was so soft and smelled of perfume. “I had no idea bikers could smell so nice,” he joked.
“You're taking advantage of me, just because we're a bit drunk,” she complained. He leaned back in and kissed her full on the lips. She liked it. She liked him being a bit cheeky with her, but she wasn't ready for what he did next. The whole time they'd been riding around, he'd been looking at her ass and the way her thighs squeezed against her bike. It had begun to drive him crazy and now, spurred on by drink, he wanted to fuck her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up. Without saying a word, he led her to some bushes and pulled her inside.
“I want to fuck you. Come here,” he said gruffly.
She wanted it too, she just hadn't realized how much until he'd mentioned the word 'fuck.' Hearing him talk to her like that made her crotch tingle. He had left her with no doubt whatsoever that he found her attractive, and now she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
He threw his jacket on the ground and unzipped his pants. When he pulled his cock out, she gulped. He had the biggest member she'd ever seen. Hard. Thick. Smooth.
“On your knees,” he commanded.
She liked his authoritarian manner and did as he asked.
“I've been looking at your ass all day. It's been driving me crazy. Now I wanna see it.” He knelt behind her, put his hand under her and opened her pants. In one easy movement he pulled them and her panties down. “My god, that's wonderful,” he said as he looked at her.
She cried out when he shoved himself inside her pussy. She was so ready for him and loved the feeling as he filled her. As he began to thrust, his thighs slapped against her behind, sending delicious vibrations through her whole body. Soon he was fucking her hard, harder than any man had ever taken her. She put her head on the ground and gritted her teeth as she withstood the wonderful onslaught. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her onto him as he thrust.
“Jesus you're so good at this. Nobody has ever…” her words faded away, replaced by the most intense orgasm she'd had in years.
“You're so fucking hot,” he said as watched her ass shaking in the aftermath of her orgasm. “You want more?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied. He upped the pace to a level she'd never imagined possible. By the time her third orgasm came, he too was ready. The feeling of him flowing into her was indescribable and it left her lying on the damp ground exhausted, but so satisfied.
“Fuck, that was good,” he moaned as he pulled out of her. She didn't reply, and he didn't see her smile.
She stood up and cleaned his seed from her before pulling her pants up and adjusting her jacket. As they came out of the bushes, her knees were shaking and, for a moment, she wondered whether she would be able to walk back to her bike.
“I don't do relationships, in case you were wondering,” he said.
She laughed. “Neither do I,” she replied as she swung her right leg over her bike.
“What's your name?” he asked.
She didn't reply. When she rode off, he looked once more at her ass and smiled. One hell of a woman, he thought.
Chapter 3
Ashton woke up to a headache and the sound of the phone ringing. He rolled across the bed and lifted the receiver.
“Yep,” he said gruffly.
“Commander. I've made an appointment for you this afternoon with a psychologist who specializes in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Three p.m. at the VA clinic.”
The asshole can't even introduce himself on the phone, Ashton thought. “I assume I'm speaking to Captain Williams,” Ashton said.
“Yes, Commander. I want you to take your appointment seriously. Remember if you do not, it could lead to a court-martial and none of us want that.”
“And what is his name?”
“Who?”
“The shrink?”
“It's a woman, her name is Dr. Gilmore.”
“Yes, sir.” Ashton ended the call as soon a
s he could, then groaned and put his hand on his forehead. Not just a shrink, but a female shrink, he thought.
He put his hand under the sheet and scratched his balls. He smiled when he thought about the previous evening and how great it had been to fuck such a woman. He wondered when the last time was that she'd been fucked in a park. His guess was that it had been a long time, if ever.
The problem with women was that they took everything and then ripped your heart out. No way was he going to let himself be hurt again, not after the last time. He was a tough guy, but when the woman he'd loved so deeply left him, he'd found it more than difficult to cope with. Maybe it was a good thing he was living in a naval base where eighty percent of the population was male, he thought. At least he wasn't tempted every day.
On the way to the VA clinic that afternoon he suddenly wished he'd asked for her number, but quickly chastised himself for going soft. He pulled his Harley into the parking lot and walked toward the reception. There were a few men standing at the door talking. He hoped none of them recognized him. He didn't want to be seen participating in such a soft activity. If any of his men saw him visiting a shrink, he would die.
Inside, he was relieved to see the reception area was deserted. He wandered around and read a few of the notices that hung on the wall. Fuck me, the world is going soft, he said to himself as he read. There were notices about PTSD, Homosexuality, Trans Gender, and a whole lot more that he didn't bother to read. The only information he thought would be remotely useful was a leaflet about how to invest for retirement.
“Can I help you?” a young woman asked. She'd appeared through a door behind the reception desk.
“Yes. I've got an appointment with Dr. Gilmore at three p.m.”
“Have a seat and I'll tell her you're here,” she said.
Ashton sat on a plastic chair, one in a row that lined the wall. He picked up a magazine and quickly tossed it back on the table when he saw it was about pregnancy and the Navy.
