Nine Marines' Shared Property: A Reverse Harem Romance (Love by Numbers Book 8)

by Nicole Casey

  “Hello Gwen.” Travis gave her a kiss and entered.

  “Did we wake you?” I asked.

  She shuffled back to the bed and collapsed, face first onto it.

  I chuckled, looked at Travis and said, “I’ll take that as a yes.” I went to her and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry we woke you. We would have come sooner, but we figured you were busy.”

  She mumbled into the sheets, “But I’m not busy now.”

  Travis chuckled. He undressed, folded his clothes and set them on the table beside the window.

  I wasn’t as patient. But I was still sleepy from my interrupted nap, so I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed beside her. She rolled over and kissed me on the forehead.

  “Take your clothes off,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  I, reluctantly, pulled myself off the bed. While I undressed, Travis slipped into the bed. He lay on his back, hands locked behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. Gwen nestled her head against his shoulder, wrapped her leg around his and laid her hand on his chest.

  I stood there a long moment looking at them. They appeared so peaceful, so content. However, there was a wide empty space beside Gwen. I smiled and slipped into bed, nestled my body against hers, my hand on her shoulder and her head snug under my chin.

  Travis and I, we both needed to wake up at five thirty, and we both needed to get our sleep—Gwen, too. So we didn’t do anything more than lie with her, holding her, matching the rise and fall of our chest to hers.

  “It feels so good to lie with you,” I murmured.

  She murmured something back. I didn’t understand what she said, but I felt the vibrations flow from her chest to mine. I pulled the hair back from her face, nestled my mouth against the back of her neck and gave her a kiss. “Good night.”

  In the morning, we slipped out of bed quietly, before she woke, and we were gone.

  I saw Alexa again later that week—the last time I’d probably see her before we were shipped out. My relationship with Gwen had really brought us closer. I had so much I knew I could learn from Alexa and her experiences. I had many questions for her, but mostly I just knew that I should listen. I knew enough to know that I didn’t know much.

  We went for dinner on the pier and then we took a walk along the beach. It was a cool enough evening that there weren’t many people out, but it wasn’t cold enough to be uncomfortable. Alexa didn’t see it that way. She shivered, and I gave her my jacket.

  She got me up to date on what was going on with Mom and Dad. I had very little contact with Mom and much less with Dad. Alexa encouraged me to reach out to them. “Mom worries about you,” she said. “It would mean so much to her if you reached out before you left.”

  I put my arm around her and we walked along the beach in silence. I knew she was right. But I doubted I would act on her encouragement; I had my own worries to deal with, and those of Gwen. Besides, what could I say to them? I couldn’t tell them about Gwen, and she was the most important thing in my life now. I couldn’t tell them about the deployment, that would only make them worry.

  Without anything to say to them, it made it difficult for me to reach out. We’d never been close, really. And these last few years we’d become even less so.

  “I don’t have anything to say to them,” I said. “We’re strangers.”

  “They’re your parents, and they love you.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  “I hope so.”

  When we walked back to her car, I mustered up the courage to ask her the question that had been burning in me for some time now.

  “Alexa?”

  “Axel.”

  “There’s this thing I wanted to ask you about.”

  “Ask away.”

  “It’s this thing; it’s like a game we play,” I started timidly.

  “You and the squad?”

  “And Gwen.” I cleared my throat. “We treat her like she’s our property.”

  Alexa slowed down and looked at me with wide eyes.

  “We don’t treat her like she’s our property,” I said defensively. “It’s more like the way we talk; it’s like a game.”

  Alexa didn’t say anything, so I continued.

  “I don’t know, at first it was fun; it was funny.” I rubbed my chin. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say. I knew, though, that I was uncomfortable and that I had a hard time finding the words to express why. “But I know she’s not my property. I respect her. I care about her. But—”

  “But?”

  I kicked at the sand in frustration. “You know, I think she gets off on it. Does that make sense?”

  Alexa cocked her head to the side then straightened. “Well, I don’t know Gwen. But, it’s not unheard of that some women like that sort of thing; they like to be dominated; they like to feel that the man is in control, in control of them.”

  I kicked more sand and rubbed my chin again. “I want to give her what she wants. If she wants to be dominated, I’ll dominate her. But, if I’m being honest, treating her like property, even if it’s just a game, that doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “Have you talked to her about this?”

  “How can I?”

  “Just like you’re doing now with me.”

  “No. You don’t understand.”

  “Explain.”

  “If I admit I don’t feel comfortable with it, well, she’s very easy-going and accommodating. She’ll agree that we should change this perspective. But she’ll say that, she’ll do that because she wants me to be comfortable.”

  “And?”

  “And I want her to be happy. I want to give her what she wants. To hell with my comfort.”

  Alexa chuckled.

  “Also, if I tell her I don’t feel comfortable dominating her and she wants to be dominated, that would just make me look weak when she wants me to appear strong. Do you see my dilemma?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I think I get it. It’s interesting to hear from a guy’s perspective.”

  “Being a guy isn’t easy.”

  She smirked. “Please! Don’t even get me started.”

  “Do you have any advice?” I asked.

  “Yes, Axel, I do. I think this is a conversation you should have with Gwen. But it doesn’t have to be about you and her—at least, you don’t need to put it that way. Try talking to her about the man-woman dynamic in a general way. You could get a better idea of what she thinks on the subject and you can adjust accordingly.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Talking about it won’t make you look weak.”

  “It might.”

  “It will make you look honest and introspective.”

  “Ergo, weak.”

  She bumped me with her shoulder. “Please tell me that was a joke.”

  “That was a joke.”

  “Women are very perceptive,” she continued. “If you talk to her hypothetically about the man-woman dynamic, she’ll pick up on where you’re going. Trust her. and trust your instincts.”

  “Sounds hard,” I said.

  “It is. And also, please, don’t go on doing something or being someone you aren’t comfortable with. That won’t last.”

  She was making sense. But she wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear. I wanted a simple, easy solution, maybe a set of principles or ground rules I could follow. But it wasn’t as simple and easy as that.

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “You’d better,” she replied. And nothing she’d said that night was as true as that.

  18

  Taylor

  Five days without Gwen: I’d hardly noticed the time pass. Probably because I’d spent a good part of it thinking about her and dreaming about her. I hadn’t really been without her, since she was always on my mind. But when Elijah happened to bring it up one night, the passage of time finally struck me.

  “Damn, it’s been five days since The Marina Hotel,” Elijah said.


  “Five days!” I replied.

  “Does it seem longer?” he asked.

  “It seems like only yesterday.” Yesterday I was with Gwen at the hotel; the whole squad was there and we were taking turns satisfying her; she tossed and turned on the bed, her head arched back, mouth open, moaning in ecstasy. But that was only a daydream.

  I called Travis hoping he would send her a text from me, but Travis didn’t answer. I skipped lunch and jogged down to The Bean Counter. I’d only have about fifteen minutes to spend with her, but that would have to do—that and my daydreams.

  When I arrived at the cafe, Christy greeted me. She said that Gwen wasn’t in, and that she hadn’t been in the day before, either. She sounded concerned when she told me this. “I tried calling her,” said Christy. “I left a message, but she hasn’t called me back.”

  “Do you have Holly’s number, her roommate?”

  “Just a second.” She walked away and made a phone call. I stood there waiting and worrying.

  “Here it is,” she said. She showed me her screen, and I dialed the number.

  “Hello, Holly. This is Taylor.”

  Holly, too, sounded worried when I told her I hadn’t been able to reach Gwen and that she hadn’t shown for work two days straight.

  “I’ll call you back, Taylor.”

  I didn’t want her to hang up. I wanted answers. I wanted Gwen. Instead, I was met with silence. I jogged back to the base.

  I contacted the rest of the squad. That wasn’t helpful. All they could do was worry with me. Finally, Holly called me back.

  “She’s in Los Angeles,” she said. Her voice betrayed worry and a bit of anger.

  “What’s she doing in Los Angeles?”

  “Something stupid.”

  “Where in Los Angeles?”

  “You should try a bar called Tree Top,” she said.

  “A bar? Tree Top?”

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you,” she said. “I’m not in San Diego right now.”

  “Is she OK?” I asked.

  There was a long pause on the other end, which did not bode well. “I don’t know,” said Holly. Her voice was low with a mixture of worry and hurt and frustration—exactly what I was feeling, too.

  “Thanks, Holly. I’ve got to go. Will you call me if there’s any news?”

  “Of course. And you, too. Call me if you hear anything.”

  I wasn’t going to wait around hoping to hear something. I’d never been the patient type, more like the type who takes action.

  I went to the mess hall and found the squad—well most of them. “Where’s Manny and Nolan?” I asked.

  “They’re on duty,” said Santiago.

  “Damn.”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Tristan. “What’s going on?”

  “We have to go to Los Angeles,” I said.

  “What?” said Elijah. “Los Angeles? When?”

  “Now!”

  As long as we made it back to the base by 6 am, there’d be no problem. But I wasn’t worried about that; we already had a problem: Gwen was gone.

  “I’ll explain in the car,” I said.

  We packed into the SUV and headed out to pick up Manny and Nolan.

  “You can start explaining,” said J.P.

  The truth was that I didn’t have anything to explain. Gwen wasn’t answering her phone. I didn’t know where she was, exactly, or why she had left. But I didn’t want to try and convince them how worried Christy and especially Holly sounded. I figured it would be best to explain once we were well on our way, in case anyone tried to dismiss my concerns with a ‘you’re blowing this all out of proportion’ or ‘she probably had a family emergency’ or ‘I’m sure she’s all right’.

  We couldn’t afford the risk of wishful thinking.

  “Let’s pick up Manny and Nolan, first,” I said. “I want us all together when I explain the situation.”

  We were headed to Los Angeles, all nine of us. It should have been a two-hour drive, but Santiago had no qualms about speeding.

  “What’s going on, Taylor?” said J.P. again, with more urgency to his question now. “What’s happened to Gwen?”

  “She’s not answering her phone,” I said.

  “And that’s reason enough to drive out to Los Angeles in the middle of the night?” said Elijah.

  “Trust me,” I said.

  “We trust you,” said J.P. “We just want to know what’s going on.”

  My phone rang. It was Holly.

  “I’ve just spoken to Gwen.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I said. “Is she OK?”

  “Why don’t you ask Axel,” she replied. This time there wasn’t worry in her voice, but anger, and lots of it.

  “Axel?” I said to her. Axel turned his head to me. His eyes were wide open and he looked confused.

  “I’ve got to go,” said Holly angrily. “Goodbye.”

  “Wait.”

  She hung up.

  “Why did you say my name?” asked Axel.

  Confusion and worry mixed with the speed of the road and the tight confines of the SUV. We were a tight-knit group, but that didn’t mean we never had our arguments.

  “What the fuck is going on, Axel!?” I said

  “You tell me!” he replied.

  Axel was in the seat in front of me and out of arms’ reach. Good thing, because I would have grabbed him and wrung his neck for answers.

  Eventually, cooler heads prevailed—those being Travis and Manny. I explained the short and strange conversation I’d had just then with Holly. Axel had no explanation, not even a guess as to what it could mean. I gave him Holly’s number and he called her.

  “Holly, this is Axel.”

  He furrowed his brow as the voice on the other end of the line was unclear but loud.

  “What are you talking about?” Axel, too, raised his voice.

  The distorted voice on the other end of the line barked back. Everyone kept silent and listened.

  “What!?” said Axel. “That was my sister!”

  We all looked at each other, but nobody said a word.

  “She was cold,” continued Axel, loudly and defensively. “I gave her my jacket! What the fu— You can’t be serious.” Axel hung up then punched the seat in front of him.

  It all came down to a misunderstanding or a lack of communication, though perhaps that was just a symptom and not the true cause. In any event, we didn’t have time to take a deep dive into the question. We needed to find Gwen, explain the misunderstanding, kiss and make up then drive back to the base.

  While Santiago sped down the highway, I called Holly back.

  “I know,” she said. “Axel explained it to me.”

  “But Gwen’s not picking up when we try to call her. Can you call her for us?”

  “I’ve tried!” Holly yelled and I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Look,” she said more calmly, “I only spoke to her for a minute. She was angry and hurt. She didn’t quite sound like herself.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shouted into the phone again. “She was angry and hurt and at a bar! What do you think that means?”

  “OK,” I said. “We’re headed there now.”

  “If you don’t find her,” she said, “ask for a guy named Michael. He’s the manager.”

  “OK.”

  “And he’s also her ex-boyfriend.”

  “Damn. Why didn’t she call us when she saw Axel with his sister? We could have cleared this up on the spot.”

  “Well, you guys haven’t been exactly great communicators either!” Holly spat back.

  “You’re right,” I said. “We’re driving there, now. We should be there in about an hour.”

  “Forty-five minutes,” Santiago interjected.

  “Will you keep trying to reach her?” I asked.

  “Yes.” She sighed. “I’ve got to go, now. Good luck.”

  Even though it was almost midnight, traffic was a mess when we hit Los Angeles. It too
k us over an hour to get to Tree Top. Fortunately, the place had valet parking. Unfortunately, the place also had bouncers who weren’t too keen on letting in nine guys dressed like they’d thrown on whatever was at hand and who looked like they were ready to crack skulls.

  There were nine of us and only two bouncers. We could take them, and based on the look on both Santiago’s and Nolan’s faces, I wasn’t the only one making that calculation.

  “I’ll talk to them,” said Axel.

  He and Travis talked to the bouncer, who looked at them with a suspicious expression on his face but also looked like he was listening.

  The rest of the group took a few steps back and watched from a few paces away.

  The bouncer kept shifting his eyes from Axel to us. Finally, he frowned, nodded and opened the door.

  Axel turned to us and said, “We’re going in. Wait here.”

  “What?” Nolan objected. He took a step toward the door, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

  “Let’s not cause a scene,” I said. “Axel will sort it out.”

  We waited five minutes, pacing and standing and huffing. We waited five more minutes then Santiago went up to the bouncer and asked him to let the rest of us in.

  The bouncer shook his head no, and I rushed over to take Santiago by the arm and lead him away. “Five minutes,” I said to Santiago.

  “We’ve already waited ten!”

  “Five more minutes,” I said calmly. I eyed the bouncer with a look I hoped he’d understand: ‘In five minutes, if our friends aren’t back, I won’t be restraining Santiago again.’

  A minute later, I got a call from Holly.

  “Taylor, I don’t want to make you panic but—”

  “Too late,” I interrupted.

  “I just got a call from Gwen, a butt dial. It didn’t sound good.”

  I walked back to the bouncer. “Explain.”

  “There was shouting. I think she’s with Michael. I think…”

  She dropped off. “What? What is it?”

  “I think she might be in trouble.”

  “We’re on it,” I said. I hung up and squared the bouncer. “Look,” I said to him. “We’re not here to cause trouble, but if you think you’re going to stop nine marines from getting in, trouble is definitely what you’ll get.”