by Dani Stowe
I adjust the kid on my lap. I feel sorry for him and I’d love to hang out, but not if his mother is going to try to seduce me, which I’m sure she will.
“I got stuff to do,” I say.
“Are you gay?” she asks.
What. The. Fuck.
I have no idea where the hell that came from and I’d like to cuss Buckler out but...the kid. I don’t want to demean his mother in front him.
“I don’t get it, Gunner,” she says. “You’re twenty-one. You don’t drink. You don’t go to clubs, and you don’t hang out with the rest of us. I also heard you’re never at your barracks room. Your roommate thinks you’re running an illegal drug ring or something because you’re so secretive. He also hacked your computer and your bank account while you weren’t there and told everyone what a rich boy you are.”
Money from modeling.
Sometimes, I hate the military. It’s like a small town where everybody knows everybody’s business. Plus, when there’s not enough shit to talk about, people go digging into other people’s business so they do have something to talk about.
“Vroom!” says the kid again and I sigh.
“Yes, Buckler, I’m running an illegal drug ring that also includes a couple of prostitutes and I have to fuck some shit up tonight just like your kid says because it’s a dirty business and I got bitches who won’t pay up.”
“I got bitches, too!” cries the kid.
“I bet you do!” I laugh and I love the look on the kid’s cute face, even with a big wet green booger hanging from his nose about to drip into his mouth, as he laughs with me.
Buckler rubs her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I know what you meant,” I cut in. “It’s cool.”
I know she’s irritated with herself. Buckler is beautiful. She was really hoping to get me to go out with her. I’m sure she never gets this much resistance, even with a kid on her hip. She doesn’t know how to handle rejection.
“Well, if you change your mind, a couple of us were planning to go to Wranglers tonight. It’s a bar down—”
“I know where Wranglers is,” I cut in once more.
“So, you’ve been there before?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “I’ve been to several bars and clubs in town and, for the record, I’m not gay.” I look her in the eyes and smile wide. “I just have goals. Big ones. I have big goals that involve big things in small places.”
Buckler clears her throat. “How big?” Buckler asks, squinting.
“Huge,” I say and I want to laugh as Buckler’s eyes get wide.
“It’s so big he’s going to fuck shit up,” says the kid.
“That’s right, my man!” I say and put my hand up again so he can give me another high-five, which he does with awesome exaggeration.
“Say it again,” I tell him.
“Gunner is so big he’s gonna fuck shit up,” he boasts.
“Say it again, but really loud this time,” I tell him.
The kid screams, “Fuuuck shiiit uuup!”
I hear a click to the door handle of Camilla’s office and she opens the door. “Can you guys keep it down in here?”
“Camilla...I mean Lieutenant Colonel Mandelay, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were in there,” I say and scoot the kid off my lap to stand as both Buckler and I stand at attention.
“I snuck in while you were at lunch,” Camilla says and looks at the kid who kicks me then reaches up to pull on the jacket of my uniform, which makes me tense.
The kid seems to sense my indifference and starts to have a tantrum, like he wants to be carried.
“Maybe you should pick him up,” Camilla smiles. It’s a genuine smile and it puts me at ease.
“I heard you submitted your retirement paperwork this morning,” Buckler says to Camilla. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” says Camilla modestly.
She did it! She’s going to retire from the Army!
She’s a free woman and we can do what we want—go out to dinner, have a drink. I can see her in a slinky dress for the first time without having to worry about Army regulations or jail or loss of pensions or any of that shit.
“How much longer before you can actually make the escape?” asks Buckler.
“I have three months of leave saved up,” Camilla replies, “so I’ll be done with work altogether in six weeks. Six weeks and no more uniform,” she smiles.
No more uniform means plenty of slinky dresses...and slutty sex.
“What are you planning to do during retirement?” Buckler questions.
Buckler looks at me and turns her attention towards the kid. I look down at Carrot Top as he tries to climb my leg and I reach down to him. I feel Camilla watching me, so I turn to see her eyes follow the kid as I pick him up. I also notice Camilla’s lip quivers as Carrot Top gives me a tight squeeze.
“Believe it or not, I’ve always wanted to try sewing and baking,” she says.
“Wow,” says Buckler. “You sound like an old lady.”
Camilla looks me back in the eyes and sighs. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“How come you don’t have any kids?” asks Buckler. “You ever thought about starting a family?”
“Well, of course,” Camilla says and I realize—that’s it!
I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before!
Camilla wants kids. She wants a family; it’s why she built that big-ass house. She built a castle for kids. I love kids. We can have kids together. I’ll get her pregnant and it will force her to get over the age thing and she’ll have no choice but to marry me.
I look at the kid in my arms. Hopefully, we’ll have boys and they’ll tear up the house and blow shit up like my adopted brothers and I did when we were kids, driving my mother crazy and my military father proud. And if we have girls, that won’t be a problem. I’ve got military training. I’ll protect ‘em.
Camilla looks back at the kid and bites her lip before she speaks, “You know, I forgot. I have to go to lunch. I didn’t eat yet.”
“I’ll drive you,” I say, trying to put the kid down, but he starts crying. I try to tactfully pull him off, but he won’t let go.
“Oh no, that’s okay,” says Camilla. “You can stay and finish your conversation.”
“Stay, Gunner,” whines Carrot Top.
“Hey man,” I tell him. “This is my job. You have to let go so I can drive the Lieutenant Colonel to where she needs to go.”
“I want to come, too!” the kid exclaims.
“I can’t let you come,” I tell him as Buckler reaches to try and grab her son. “But I need you to be a good soldier and let me do my job so you can also do your job.”
The kid squints, “What’s my job?”
I point at his chest. “You need to go home, run all over the house, then—Fuck. Shit. Up.”
Buckler yanks the kid from me. “Oh my God, Gunner!” she cries.
I hear Camilla laughing. “You all have a nice day,” she chuckles and I see she’s made her way to the front door, pushing it open as she throws her Army cap on over her head.
I grab the car keys, salute the kid, push my way past Buckler, and skip after Camilla to catch up. “Where do you want to eat?”
“I’m really not that hungry,” she says as she marches towards the car and I try to keep up.
“So, you’ll be retired in about three months. Is that right?” I attempt to confirm.
Camilla stops dead in her tracks and looks around; I’m sure it’s to make sure no one care hear us. There’s no one nearby. “Gunner, don’t get any ideas. You have your whole future ahead of you and I know you. I know you want to make the military your lifelong career.”
“So?”
“So, I want out! I don’t want to be involved with this lifestyle in any way, shape, or form anymore.”
I can’t help but smile. “So, you have thought about it.”
“Thought about what?” she asks as her forehead crinkles.
&n
bsp; “You’ve thought about us. Being together. Staying together as a couple after you retire.”
Camilla puts her face in her hand as she shakes her head like she’s received the worse news of her life. I want to wrap my arms around her so bad and tell her it’s all going to be okay. Of course, we can’t do that on a military base, but I want her to know if she just trusts me, it’ll all work out. After the age of seven, I was raised in a military family. I know how to make it work.
I look around at a pair of uniformed soldiers walking across the street in our direction. Camilla notices them and starts marching again to the Explorer. I open the door for her and after she gets in, I get in the driver’s seat.
“You and I are not going to work,” she says, but I’ve heard this before.
I start the car and head towards the cemetery. After two blocks, she knows exactly where we are going.
“We’re not going to the cemetery, Gunner,” she snaps, but I keep going. “Gunner, you’d better turn this car around right now. That’s an order!” she commands, but I keep driving. “Gunner, I swear to God, if you don’t turn this car around right now, I’m going to kick your ass!” she snaps.
I ignore her. I ignore her verbal assaults and the arguments she’s making from the backseat, which are really just rants she has to tell herself so she doesn’t feel like she’s taking advantage of a younger man or a lower ranking soldier.
I ignore her because I truly believe all the things she says about me—how I have so much potential, how smart I am, how I have so much to offer the world. She almost sounds like my adopted parents.
I keep my mouth shut until we get to the cemetery; I drive past the tombstones of brave men that have battled before me. I pass tall trees and bushes to a hidden dirt road, to the place where I first took Camilla because she needed to cry like a girl after being reprimanded by one of her senior officers. I put the car in park in the exact spot where I first braved to comfort that girl who thinks she’s a badass, which I wish she was, and is too scared to admit she needs anyone.
I get out of the car and open the back door, as I’ve done many times before in the last nine months, and take off my uniform jacket before tossing it in the front seat.
Camilla starts yelling at me in Spanish. Luckily, I don’t understand any of that shit, although I’m sure she’s using every curse word a Latina knows as I reach in to grab her and pull her closer to the door, to me.
I undo the buckle to my belt, unbutton my pants, and unzip my fly. And just as I knew it would happen, Camilla calms down. The sound of my pants coming undone is like the sound to surrender for her. Camilla doesn’t think she needs anyone, and she might not think she needs me, but at the very least, she knows she needs this.
Chapter 3
I roll over on top her.
I didn’t get her off at the cemetery. I didn’t get myself off either. I gave her just enough cock and just enough tongue in her mouth and on her clit to make her ache for more.
When she got to the point where she was desperate, desperate for anything—pleasure or pain, anything to ease her horny desperation, I stopped. I pulled up my pants, got back in the driver’s seat, and drove her back to the office.
She was so hot, I thought steam would spout from underneath all that camouflage from the backseat of the Explorer. But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t speak. She didn’t even look at me.
This is the part I love.
I may be a grunt. I may be her little lost puppy. But when I get her hot, she cannot wait to take me home.
So, here we are, as we always are, after I’ve fulfilled my part of the cycle; we are at her house, in the biggest room in the castle. Except this time, I need to change things up a bit.
When I get on top, I kneel and tuck two pillows under her beautiful ass. While she was working on her PowerPoint slides this afternoon back at the office, I was working on figuring out how to get my big gun as far into her pussy hole to allow my bullets to penetrate deep enough so at least one of ‘em will hit a target and get her pregnant.
“What are you doing, Gunner?” she asks and I grab her tit and massage it.
“It’s okay,” I say, “I just want to try something a little different.”
“You’re going to get too deep with me in this position. You should know I’m not going to be able to handle you propped up like this. Take the pillows out.”
I don’t want her to have any clue as to what the hell I’m up to, so I spread her knees out and dip my head down to eat her pussy.
I wiggle my tongue on her clit and this is the other part I love. This is the part where she starts to hum. She hums as one of her hands reaches to pull her hair while she sucks on a finger of the other hand.
I look up at her face; she’s squeezing it so tight. I wiggle my tongue faster until her body shakes and by God, she comes quickly. I slip my finger on her clit and keep wiggling at it as her pussy rains and I slip my cock in her.
I fuck her as her face shows she’s already hurting with just a few bangs, but I continue to get as deep as I can get. I’m going to have to come quick because it’s obvious she can’t handle it, so I do.
I grip her waist tight as she yelps and I try to wedge myself even deeper for good aim and it feels good.
My seed pumps into her and I try to maintain some self-control to hold her down. I hold her in this position for a minute. Camilla looks at me funny and tries to wiggle off.
I lean over her and trap her in the position she’s in with her pelvis tilted up high so all my cum can flow deeper into her.
“Gunner, are you done?” she asks.
I put my face in her neck and kiss her. “Don’t move,” I say.
“Is there something wrong?” she asks softly.
“Just let me lay here with you for a minute.”
I feel Camilla’s body shake, like its bouncing in the bed. It pisses me off that she’s laughing at me until I hear a sniffle.
I pick my chest up and hover over her and she covers her eyes with her hands.
She’s not laughing; she’s crying.
I hope I didn’t hurt her that bad.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I ask.
“You’re deploying,” she says and starts to sob.
“What?” That was not what I was expecting to hear.
“I dropped my retirement paperwork and I think my superiors were pissed, because they told me, after the fact, that our unit was deploying. You’re going to Afghanistan, Gunner.”
I’m not sure what to think. I’m not sure how to feel. I guess I should feel happy that she’s crying over it, over me. She tries to push me off.
“Don’t move,” I tell her and I hunker down to keep her trapped beneath me. “So, I’m deploying. So what? That’s my job. Wait a sec. Are you upset because you’re not going?” I ask her.
Camilla cries a bit more. “No,” she says, “I know it sounds lame and I’m sure the rest of the unit is going think I turned my back on them, but I—”
“Fuck them!” I say, not because she’s right since they probably will think she abandoned us after being our commander for a year and now she’ll look like she’s trying to get out of a deployment by dropping her retirement paperwork, but because I don’t care. I don’t want her to go. This will be my first deployment and she’ll be a distraction. Plus, she’s done her time. She’s done deployments. She doesn’t need to go.
Me? I’m proud to go. It’s what I’ve been trained for. And, if I knock Camilla up, then I’ll have a wife and a baby to come home to.
Camilla tries to wiggle her way loose again and I grip her by the hair.
“Don’t move,” I say.
“What is your problem, today? Get off of me, Gunner!” she cries.
“I just want to hold you for a minute. Is that so wrong? Especially since we know now I’ll be leaving soon?”
Her eyes water and she swallows hard when she looks me straight in the eyes. “We need to break up.”
I get up on
my knees, although I feel like I’m sinking. “You did not just fucking say that.”
She wipes her face. “You’re right. We’re not really breaking up, because we were never really a couple—more like fuck buddies.”
I swear to God I don’t know why I put myself through this! I want to shoot something.
“How can you say that?” I sound like a whiny bitch, but I can’t stop. “I’m here for you almost every day. I do whatever the fuck you say. I listen to you complain about your superiors. I make you fucking coffee and pick up your meals.”
“That’s because I’m your commander and you’re my driver!” she yells as she pulls her legs out from under me and then closes them before rolling to her side.
Fuck. I’m not sure if I gave my sperm enough time.
I grab her thigh; she’s not getting away this time.
“That’s bullshit!” I snap. “I help you with your laundry and I mow your damn lawn, but it’s not because I’m your bitch. It’s because you like having me around. You’re fucking in love with me and you know it!”
Camilla wipes her face dry. “Give me a break. This is the first real conversation we’ve ever had,” she smirks and tries to get up.
I grab her elbow and pull her back to me. “That’s because you’re always trying to get away! And it’s because you think I’m too young for you. But let’s be real—I’m the mature one here, Camilla. I’m not the one that’s playing around. I’m the one who’s not afraid to say I love you, because I do. I love you and I want to commit to you, but you’re too afraid to love or commit back to me.”
Her eyes get beady. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t?”
She shakes her head.
“Then commit to me right now,” I demand. “Tell me that when I get back you’re still going to be here—for me. After nine months. After I come back from deployment, tell me you’ll be here for me when I get home.”
“I can’t,” she says.
I close my eyes and bite my lip to contain the fury rising from inside me. “Why? Because you’re afraid to wait for someone who has a small chance of never coming back?”
