It was all too easy and then all that was left was the tequila and the dance. Dancing was never his forte, but it didn’t matter. Because he knew that dancing was all a confidence game. Women were looking for someone secure enough with himself to gyrate mindlessly, pretending like he knew a fucking thing about how to two-step. It was all about positioning, all about the deception of power. Just like on the battlefield, psyching your opponent out.
After making eye contact with two new friendly faces and dancing with regulars at the 411 Honky Tonk Club, the local college bar, he decided to sit back and relax—and take in a full view of the lovely woman sitting at the end of the bar. His blood was rushing and his confidence was soaring as high as a jet. Approach her too fast, too undisciplined, and he would blow the mission. So he settled into the “Funny Guy” mode, or stealth mode, using some self-deprecating humor to lower her defenses and then hopefully her panties. All women were narcissists anyway. Treating her like someone special, like a celebrity to be entertained, was the best way to appeal to her vanity and score a date for the night…and early morning.
There was only one problem. When the enemy is smarter than you are, sometimes your well planned tactics fall apart.
“Hi there,” he said, starting off, letting her feel content that he was no serious threat. Gerald couldn’t help but notice the cutest twenty-year-old girl in the bar, a redhead in a white t-shirt and blue jeans with two empty beer bottles by her side. She was watching the game, a little bored, and definitely sending out signals to anybody, to come try their luck.
“Heeey,” she said sarcastically.
“I just want to know. What would you rather have from me? A, a nice date, restaurant and a movie. B, meaningful intelligent conversation. Or C, multiple orgasms?”
She laughed hard but diverted her eyes from his, still keeping him at a distance. “Is there a D, all of the above?”
“Oh, I get it. You’re saying you want the D?”
“Wow,” she laughed again. “Skillfully played, cadette.”
“Thank you. I like the sassy side braid,” he said, noticing her red hair and how she had a full braid probably from teasing her roots to her ends.
“Ah okay. So I get one tiny compliment instead of a ‘You’re beautiful?’”
“Say what?” he said with a squint.
“Yeah, I know the type,” she said tiredly.
“Whoa, would you rather have me say, “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven…to eat some poor kid’s soul, you soul-eating ginger bitch?’”
She laughed harder, against her will, but still a free guffaw. He had balls all right and seemed high on life, but he was much too smooth to be believed.
“No offense, honorable army man. But I’m not attracted to players.”
“Players? Get out of here. Okay, you’re beautiful. Let me buy you a drink. How’s that? More predictable?”
“Mmm, whatever. But I know what you are, Gomer Pyle.”
“Don’t hate. Just serving my country and enjoying my single life. Unless you’re asking to marry me, which is a bit stalker-esque.”
“Very smooth, very smooth,” she said with a wink, but turned away.
“By the way, I’m Gerald. And I’m a Navy SEAL, just so we understand each other.”
“Oh definitely. You’ve told me everything I need to know about you.”
He cracked up, sitting down and ordering a couple of tequila shots. “I’m not a player, you know. Just enthusiastic. And I like to win. You got to be driven in my career if you want to survive. What do you do?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Forrest.”
He laughed again. She was playing him like he was playing her. The cool thing was she was already talking to him with her eyes. She was attracted to him. She loved the uniform. And his cockiness is what she was responding to—even if she was pretending she was a nice girl. Yeah right, but how many nice guy losers had she brushed off that night?
“My momma told me to beware of gingers,” he said in a mock-Forrest Gump accent. “They take your virginity, then your money, then your soul.”
“I think I need another shot just to keep listening to you.”
“What can I say, Ma’am? I’m having a lot of fun tonight. I’m happy to be home, in all honesty. Another day of life is a reason to celebrate. I’m sure you’ll agree with that.”
“True…” she said, eyeing him sideways, but accepting his drink. “What does the tattoo on your arm say?
“Says ‘She took a whip to me until I shout, Oh, a motherfucker's just a motherfucker.’”
“What in the world is that all about?”
“I actually got it on a dare,” he said with a smile. “It was our first trip back home, the guys and I were celebrating. We all went drinking and I lost a game of truth or dare played between us and the girls. So they said I could choose any Prince song I wanted to get tattooed on my arm. They thought I was terrified, but I was like, naah. I’ll show them. So I chose the lyric with motherfucker in it, just to show them I wasn’t afraid.”
“Hmmm,” she said with a smile, studying his face. There was something charming about him. His arrogance was all too simulated. Not a guy that was oblivious to the world, but all too familiar with the horrors of war and the ugly truths of existence. He was arrogant and silly because why the hell not? Indeed, another day another sacrifice, another day to laugh off something as silly as a blown date.
“Not afraid to get dumped on either. First time I went to Afghanistan found out via Facebook that my girlfriend cheated on me.”
“Damn,” the woman said with a headshake.
“Yeah. So by that time, I was saying fuck It. It’s time to live like every day is my last. So yeah, I’m the type of guy to say you’re beautiful, you got crazy funky hair that I think is awesome. And I want to drink all night and show you the world, Aladdin style.”
“That’s a hard offer to pass up. But I don’t dig players.”
“Players? There you go again with the players thing. But I appreciate you being honest and telling me why I have no chance in hell. I’ve never really thought about how I come across to people.” He shrugged, indicating he was ready to move on.
“Well…I didn’t say you didn’t have a chance. I’m just saying I usually don’t date players.”
“Looking to settle down and get married, huh?”
“No, it’s not that,” she said with a snarky head bob. I just think you guys move too fast sometimes.”
“Don’t you like roller coasters?”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“So I think of it like life being a roller coaster. We could all take things slow and keep a distance from what intimidates us. Or we could just brace ourselves and take the ride.”
“Hmmm.”
“Speaking of which, would you like to go for a ride…”
“No!”
“Excuse me! I just meant would you like to go to a great little dessert place down the road. On Amory Boulevard. Coffee and dessert place that serves alcohol-spiked hot chocolate with cannabis-infused cocoa. This was Colorado, so what do you expect but the friendliest bar in town? Doesn’t that sound like heaven and hell just mashed together in a blender?”
“Oh, I thought you were talking about something else.”
“Girl, control your filthy mind.”
She laughed hard again. “Well, there’s no point in trying because it just goes wild again.”
He shot her back a smile. Gradually, she was lowering her defenses and letting him know that she wanted him. Now it was just a matter of staying focused and latching onto just one thing she said, pursuing it relentlessly until she caved in and said yes, why not. After all, it’s just to talk…
Of course, even Gerald was surprised at just how easy the whole pickup was. They didn’t even get to the point where he asked her if she wanted to go somewhere. They had so many tequila shots and took turns playfully insulting and seriously complimenting each other, that they we
re practically making out at the bar.
Stealing kisses, fondling elbows and hands and whispering drunken nothings into each other’s ears. The other patrons might have become agitated watching their PDAs, but hell, they figured it was more interesting than nothing.
They were both giggly and feeling fantastic into the next two hours, exchanging wisdom while talking about wild sex encounters they had—or at least thought they had, at one point or another, though remembering all the fucking in the midst of all that drinking proved to be challenging.
By the time they were done drinking for the night, there was no reason to hide or be coy about anything they were feeling. It wasn’t even a question of whether or not they wanted to have sex, but where and how. When they were sobered up? Or was it better to just go with the moment and get it over with now?
Oh geez, should we go into the bathroom stall or maybe the car? Maybe just against the wall. Or would we get in trouble for making sweet love right here on the bar?
“I really think you’re gorgeous,” he said, drunk enough but still walking the fine line between uninhibited and piss off bumbling fool. “You’re the kind of woman that makes it all worthwhile. A woman worth fighting for.”
“Ohhh, that’s so sweet.”
“Uh oh, my spidey sense tells me you’re losing interest.”
“No!”
“Sweet is for whip cream, strawberries and jam. I’m a man. All rough, meaty, and buttery, baby.”
She snort-laughed and shook her head. “I forgot. You have that whole superhero complex.”
“That’s right. I’m a real life superhero. I ain’t got time for sweet.”
“Sometimes sweet is good,” she squeaked, rubbing his chest and toying with his anticipation. Two hours of drunken foreplay was almost better than sex. The act itself was almost an afterthought…but yeah, as he stared into her eyes and snuck peaks at her inviting and all natural cleavage, he began to feel his heart racing and his perception becoming rosy and dreamy. She was really beautiful and every time she laughed and vibrated in that tall stool, she gave him a clue as to just how appreciative and reactive she could be.
She likewise felt charmed by his persona, increasingly sensitive and yet with an aura of mystery. His hands were large and yet controlled, so perfectly designed to finger her in a fit of passion. His lips were soft and thick, chiseled to perfect dimensions for her belly, her breasts and her neck. His humming deep voice was so erotic, probably what Superman or Batman might sound like in bed.
“So Nancy…” he said suspiciously. “Is that your real name or do you just give players a fake name so they’ll leave you alone?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. I guess that’s up to you to wonder about.”
“That’s not what I’m wondering. Don’t get me wrong, you’re lovely and I’m sure there’s a great story behind your name. But all I feel right now is boiling lust for you. I just want to dance with you and fall into bed, so I can spend the night between your breasts.”
She laughed but he continued.
“And sex is up to you. I don’t need it. But your perfume is driving me crazy.”
“I’m not wearing any perfume,” she said with a raised eyebrow, a blush tinging her cheeks.
“Mmmm, guess I just appreciate your natural scent, Nancy.”
“My real name is Nina. I figured, Nancy is close enough. Most guys don’t care anyway.”
“Sure I care. I gave you my real name as soon as we met. I have nothing to hide. But everything to offer.”
“Including your hide?”
“Hell yeah, you can have my hide. But don’t get me wrong. I’m not easy.”
“Ohh yeah right,” she laughed and folded her arms.
“What? You think I’m joking? I’m telling you sweet Nina, I don’t like just everybody I meet. There has to be a strong physical connection beyond words.”
“Mmm-hmm, and you have that with me?”
“I definitely feel something with you.”
“Well, sorry to burst your blue balls, but I’m not going home with you tonight. Or even to your little dessert shop that you so desperately want to take me to.
“Why not? It’s a great place. Friendly people.”
“Uh huh. And what else?”
“Nothing.”
“No, really. What else?” she asked with a flirty grin.
“Just a lounge where there’s no questions asked.”
They both giggled. “Such a perv.”
“No, just know when I’m beat. And there’s no sense pretending that I’m not totally nuts about you.”
“Awww, that’s so…” she smiled and bit her tongue. “That’s so meaty. So manly and rough.”
“That’s right!”
She laughed quietly, staring at him and sizing up his lips. “Kiss me.”
“Right here? Now?”
“Yeah. What, are you afraid of people? They going to kick out the big Marine and hurt his feelings?”
“Navy SEAL, dammit.”
He got up off the stool and leaned over, kissing her boldly and fully, planting his soft lips onto hers. They kissed for a long sensual moment, tasting each other and surrendering to temptation as they intensified the lip lock.
The bar erupted into applause. Sure, it was pretty sweet to see a Navy SEAL finish first and win the woman’s affection. And who wants to stop a love story in progress?
They kissed so hard and fervently, they almost forgot where they were. Gerald had to stop from reaching for a first base grab, remembering that a gentleman’s first priority is protecting his woman. If they were going to finish this, they had to do it right.
But the longer they stalled, the more memorable the date seemed…which means the less Nina desired to turn it all into something cheap and horny.
“I don’t think so,” she said with a reluctant grin, after Gerald asked her for the umpteenth time if she wanted to go home with him.
“All right. Message received,” he said with a firm nod. “Truth is, I enjoyed talking to you. And if I’m offered ice cream without a cherry on top, it suits me just fine.”
She nodded and smiled. She definitely felt attracted, and did think about giving him what he wanted. But her instincts were crying out that something wasn’t quite right. Not yet. She kept getting the sense of “not yet”, as if there was still something to learn. But she would be lying to herself if she said the answer was “NO.” She knew that she would see him again, somehow, some place.
After another good twenty minutes of casual chatting, Gerald took her outside the bar to say goodbye. He seemed a little blue, figuring they would probably not see each other again before he was deployed. But she seemed a bit more optimistic.
“Don’t you believe in destiny?”
“No,” he said matter-of-factly. “But it’s cool. I’m glad we got to talk.”
“Why are you here anyway? Not looking for poontang, I know why you were in that bar,” she laughed. “But why are you not overseas?”
“Oh. I actually came home to see my father. He just got remarried.”
“Cool. My mom just got married too. Hey…wouldn’t it be funny?”
Gerald laughed at the thought. “That would be funny. Making out with my own sister.”
“Stepsister,” she corrected.
“Still…” he laughed, finally showing a bit of nervous stutter after a night full of over the top confidence.
“Kiss me again,” she said, welcoming him into her arms. Damned if he was too proud to resist. The woman was bleeding gorgeous and the honor of kissing her and touching her was almost as thrilling as the idea of taking her to bed.
They embraced hard and just a little rough as their lips connected, sucking and smacking into each other’s mouth. He got a little passionate and she made his day, by putting his hands on her breasts—letting him feel just a taste of paradise. They both groped each other for a few long aching moments before gradually releasing. She was in charge, of course, and he was following
orders. As always.
“Well…I’ll be seeing you, Gerald Allen.”
“It’ll be my honor, Nina,” he said, walking away with an aching woody and a vivid image of her scent in his mouth and his nose.
He actually liked her, which certainly wasn’t what he expected when he went to that college dank pit. Girls there were usually shallow, easy and just a bit on the whore side, how most military men liked them. No sense getting emotionally attached, not with life as unpredictable as it was.
But Nina was smarter than the usual barfly girl. She was tough, maybe a little jaded and a woman who could talk philosophy with him, just as easily as she could make out by a wall outside the building. The only question was, why keep him waiting? Damn, the girl was a natural player herself. Always keeping him guessing. Wanting her just a little bit more than he ought to.
Chapter 2
Gerald went from hot and heavy to cool and sterile, as he visited his father Melvin at his mansion of a retirement home. He was always in awe of the filthy rich life his Colonel father lived. And the fact that the old man had married a hot young wife shouldn’t surprise anyone. Well, she wasn’t young like Gerald, thank God, but a fifty-five year old man wearing a bombshell blond forty-year old was definitely a “harrumph” moment for most people that knew Melvin. Gerald’s mother had divorced him a long time ago, and Melvin was the type of man to move on fast, not wasting away in sorrow but eager to start sampling the newest merchandise—to put it in his father’s own words.
“Yeah. Ain’t she a dish?” Melvin cackled, as the two Allen boys sipped wine in the study room.
“She’s very pretty,” Gerald said. “Sure, she was ‘hot’ or at least she would have been if not for the fact that dad was fucking her. A bit of a creepy realization and definitely just the image Gerald needed to erase any and all thoughts of Oedipus Rex complex.
“Oh she’s pretty all right. And looks great from down under.”
“Oh Jesus, dad,” Gerald said with a shake of his head. “I don’t want to be hearing that.”
Taken By The Forbidden Highlander (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 71
