Lieutenant Commander Stud

by Chance Carter

  “Me, Sir?” My heart clawed it’s way up into my throat.

  “You didn’t think you would escape disciplinary action, did you?”

  “Sir, for what? I haven’t done –”

  “Either one of your men attacked a civilian while you were with him, or you did. You understand how bad this looks after what happened with Mission Hubert. This needs to be dealt with swiftly.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Fuck it, this was it wasn’t it? This was the end of my career with the military.

  “Now, Baker, I don’t want you to concern yourself with the result of this too much. Focus on the base and making sure everything is adequately prepared for my arrival, understand?” Shepherd’s no-nonsense tone had run its course for me.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” He clicked off the line.

  I put the phone back on its base, then rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. So that was it, then. Whitmore had succeeded in bringing me down with him. In truth, what the hell did I expect? An easy way out of this? No, this wasn’t a fucking fairy tale.

  Not only would I take the fall for what happened, but Chanel would likely suffer for it, as well. This was the point of collapse and I couldn’t say anything but that I brought it upon myself.

  “Shit,” I whispered, and kicked the underside of my desk. “Shit!” I got up and charged to the window again. I slammed it closed and cut off the flow of air. Thankfully, Whitmore’s obtrusive scent had already dissipated.

  I’d worked hard to make sure everything on the base was running smoothly. I was proud of what I’d accomplished here, and what I planned on accomplishing in future, but that was all on the line thanks to Whitmore’s fuckery.

  I marched back to my desk and sat down, checking the time. It wasn’t long until noon, and it was my experience that Commander Shepherd always arrived earlier than expected. He loved the surprise factor.

  Another rat-tat at my door. Christ, it was like Grand Central Station in here today.

  “What is it?” I yelled, then inhaled and brought myself back from the brink. “Come in.”

  Chanel entered the office, a weary smile stretching those too perfect lips. This was the last thing I needed. Being around her presented enough of a challenge already, without the prospect of Shepherd’s visit looming over my head.

  “Hi.” She shut the door behind her. “I wondered if you might have a few minutes to speak about something. It’s important.”

  “I don’t think so,” I replied.

  Chanel wilted. “Oh. Okay.”

  “Sorry,” I said, and guilt flashed through my veins. I didn’t want to take out my bad mood on her of all people. She’d been my anchor in stormy seas throughout this entire ordeal. She deserved better than me snapping at her. “I’m just tense.”

  “Why? If I may ask.”

  “Commander Shepherd’s on his way. He’ll be here in the early afternoon.”

  Her eyes widened and she crossed the distance from the door to the desk in three great strides. “He’s finally coming? I’ll get to do the presentation. Ryan, this is good news. It’s great news.”

  “Not really,” I replied, “since he might end up relieving me of my duty or having me courtmartialed for a crime I didn’t commit.”

  “What?!”

  “I – Whitmore’s accusing me of having beat Timothy, as I’m sure you know, and there’s no evidence to prove otherwise. Either I’m going to take the fall for what he did, or I’m going to be punished in other ways.”

  She shook her head on repeat, glossy hair flipping around her head. God, even in fear she was achingly beautiful. “They can’t do that to you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You mean apart from sleeping with you.”

  She stumbled back a step.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that what we’ve been up to isn’t exactly the military standard, if you catch my drift.”

  “Oh, well, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I wanted it too.”

  “But you don’t want it anymore,” she replied.

  “I didn’t say that. Look, I’m sorry, this is all coming out wrong, I just don’t need extra pressure right now with this shit hanging over my head.” I bent and rubbed my eyes again. “It’s too much to deal with.”

  Chanel’s footsteps were muffled on the carpet. I didn’t track her movements, but expected the door to open and shut. It didn’t. Instead, her hands rested on my shoulders. “It’s okay,” she said, “everything’s going to be fine.”

  “I’d love to believe that, but I know better.” This would be the day that ended my military career. I didn’t have any skills outside of this. I didn’t have a future without the Navy. What was I going to do, become a bouncer at a club?

  “I promise,” Chanel said, “it’s going to turn out fine. I feel it in my gut.”

  I was overwhelmed with gratitude. She was strong when I couldn’t be. What a woman. If only she was my woman.

  Chapter 25

  Chanel

  I positioned myself behind his chair and placed my hands on his shoulders. “You need to relax.”

  “How can I when he’s coming here?” Ryan’s fists rested on his knees, and he didn’t turn when he spoke. This had to be difficult for him, especially since it hadn’t been outright proven that Jack was the one to attack Timothy.

  “Just forget about it for now. He’ll be here tomorrow, not today, and the sooner he gets here the better.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Because then I can give my presentation and start fixing up the base. I’m ready,” I said.

  Finally, he shifted in the chair and looked back at me out of the corner of his eye. “You are?”

  “Yes, and I’m really happy with what I’ve done. I’m confident that this Shepherd guy is going to like it.”

  Ryan grunted.

  “Gee thanks.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I know what a dick he is.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. God, I wanted the tension in his shoulders to dissipate. I massaged him, gently, then increased the pressure, running my thumbs down either side of his tan neck.

  Ryan sagged under my touch. “That’s good,” he said. “You’re really good at that.”

  “Thanks.” I didn’t tell him I only learned because my mom got killer migraines and she always asked me for help.

  I ran my fingers through his hair next and worked on his scalp, turning his head this way and that with the lightest of touches. I bent and kissed him just above the collar of his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, in a semi-sleepy voice, induced by the massage. “Door is unlocked.”

  “Oh? Are you expecting anyone to burst in?”

  “No, but it’s possible. If they see you kissing me –”

  I spun his chair around and sank to my knees in front of him. “What if they see me doing something else?”

  “Chanel,” he grunted, “you can’t do this to me. I can’t resist you.”

  “You can’t?” I unzipped his pants and reached inside, then sucked in a breath. God, he was already hard for me, and pre-cum dripped from his head and wet my palm. Yes, this was what he needed, this was what we both needed.

  “Someone could see.”

  The more he protested, and they were totally weak protests, the more aroused I became. And more determined to taste him. I scooted forward, then brought my lips to his dick.

  I didn’t lick him yet, just opened my mouth and exhaled, teased him.

  He stared at me, stroking my crown, then down the back of my neck and back up again, mussing my sleek hair. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know. I want to,” I said, “more than anything.”

  Ryan lost his sense of reluctance as the words left me. He placed light pressure on the back of my head and forced my lips onto his dick. I opened my mouth wide and took as much as I could, jaw aching from the sheer girth of him.
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  He felt good inside my mouth. He tasted delicious, and my own juices dripped down the inside of my thigh.

  “That’s good,” he said, and glanced at the door. “Fuck, Chanel, that’s so good.”

  I plunged him deep into my throat, as far as he could go, then back out again and circled that ridge around his fat, throbbing head with my tongue. I’d never enjoyed this before him, but the tension his leg muscles, the twitches, drove me wild.

  He loved how it felt and I loved doing it for him.

  “More,” I said, “I need more of you.” I worked his now wet shaft with my right hand and matched the rhythm with my mouth around his head, teasing that most sensitive spot which I knew would make him come.

  He sat back and dug his fingers into the arms of his chair. “Fuck,” he said, “Chanel, wait, I’m going to come.”

  “Good, I want you to come in my mouth,” I replied. “I want to taste it.”

  “Later.”

  “What?”

  “After.” He grasped my elbows and lifted me into a standing position in front of his chair. Ryan worked my skirt up over my thighs and revealed the trail of wetness, the result of his flavor on my tongue.

  “Oh yes,” he said, and parted my legs, then my lips. He ran his finger between them, then looped his arm around me, and buried his face in my crotch.

  I lifted my leg to give him better access, and pulled his hair, directing him with tugs. “Uh-huh,” I uttered. Shuddering. My left leg threatened to collapse, but he held me upright. “Oh gawd.”

  The slurping noises, his fingers probing my entrance. Fuck, I couldn’t handle much more of this. My ass tightened up, I forced his lips into me and came against them, groaning, bucking my hips.

  Ryan let me jam all the way through my orgasm, then lifted me onto his lap and slid inside me in one swift motion.

  I couldn’t put my legs on either side of the chair, but it didn’t matter. He had me. He gripped my hips and lifted me up and down, up and down, filling me up as he had before. That motion that I loved, and the fullness I’d never get used to.

  I checked the door, hazy eyed, but it was still closed. If anyone walked past now, they’d hear the wet slap of our flesh, but I didn’t care. I needed him like I needed air.

  I kissed him and tasted myself. My pussy tightened around him, an involuntary clench driven by the sheer pleasure of having been eaten out.

  “You’re everything,” he said, and rammed me down again.

  My legs trembled, and I held onto his broad shoulders, meeting his gaze. “What?”

  “You’re everything, Chanel. You’re everything to me.”

  Oh God, what did that even me? Did it mean he actually loved me? Or was this part of a game to him? I didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking. But he didn’t have anything to gain by lying about his feelings, so why would he?

  “Look at me,” he said, and left me on his dick. He throbbed inside me. “Look at me, Chanel.”

  I did as I was told, swallowed whole by his soulful stare. “What is it?” I whispered, hoarse from emotion.

  “I’m falling for you.”

  “Ryan!”

  He kissed me before I could lodge another complaint. I circled my hips slow, moving with him and a deep burn of pleasure blazed between us. I breathed into his mouth, held his cheeks, worked myself back and forth.

  “Get off,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You said you wanted to taste me.” Ryan grunted the words out. “Gonna come.”

  I scrambled out of his lap and down onto my knees again, quickly taking him into my mouth again and sucked. He thickened beneath my grip and between my lips. Impossibly large. So big I could barely get past that ridge of pleasure.

  Ryan growled, and pulled my hair, plunged me onto his dick as far as I could go, then released into my mouth. His cum tasted good, slightly salty but clean, and I swallowed as much of it as I could. More and more came, and it leaked out of the corners of my mouth, dribbling down my chin.

  Finally, he pulled back, cock still throbbing, but spent. “Shit, you’ve got – uh, wait a second,” he said, and opened a drawer. He handed me a handkerchief. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed and cleaned myself off, then handed it back.

  He laughed and stuck it in the wastepaper basket. “Don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.” He held out a hand and helped me to stand. I wobbled like I’d never used my legs before.

  I moved around to the chair in front of his desk and plonked down, worked my skirt back over my thighs and covered all the important bits. “That was amazing.”

  Ryan tucked himself away and zipped up.

  “Did you – did you mean that? What you said during? That you –”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m falling for you. I don’t want to, but I am.”

  “Wow, you don’t want to?”

  “No,” he said. “I – listen, Chanel, I’ve been through too much for you to handle. I lost people and I don’t want to lose again.”

  “Who says you’re going to lose me?” I asked, and my heart pounded against the inside of my chest, this time because I couldn’t believe he’d admitted any of this to me. This was some kinda pillow talk, minus the pillows, of course.

  “I can’t see a clear path forward with everything that’s going on,” he said. “Commander Shepherd is coming and it’s not just for your presentation. He wants what happened resolved, and if I don’t step up to the plate and help him figure out what happened, I – shit, I don’t want to think about what it means for the future.”

  I wrung my hands. I couldn’t keep the nerves at bay. “The future.”

  “Yes. I’ve dedicated my entire life to the Navy. I’ve risen through the ranks because of it, but I don’t know what’s going to happen. Jack has tainted everything.”

  “It’s my fault. If we’d never met everything would be fine.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Ryan replied. “And if we hadn’t met I wouldn’t be this happy.”

  My cheeks heated. He was happy. God, what was I, twelve? This was like the first crush I’d ever had, and it was definitely the first love. I prayed it would be the last.

  Could I picture myself with him? Married to him? Yes, but I doubted that was what he wanted to talk or even think about.

  “Thank you,” I said, “for everything.”

  “Are you kidding? Thank you.” His grin brimmed with unadulterated joy. He’d never smiled like that before. It was as if that wall he constructed collapsed, for just a moment, and I could see all the way to his soul, to who he really was.

  I loved him. But how would this end? I had to believe that it would work out, that Timothy would recover, and Commander Shepherd would approve the plans for the base.

  “Everything will work out,” I said, out loud.

  The smile disappeared instantly. “Maybe,” Ryan said, “but I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve spoken with the Commander.”

  “What time is he due to arrive?”

  Hurried knocks rattled Ryan’s office door.

  “Yes?”

  Petty Officer Jameson entered the room, neat strides and boots polished. “Sir, sorry, am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all,” Ryan said. “What’s the problem, officer?”

  Thank God she hadn’t arrived five minutes ago. She definitely would’ve been interrupting then.

  “I’ve received word that Commander Shepherd has just landed on the helipad, Sir.”

  My mouth went dry. “He’s here already? How? What?”

  “Excuse me, Miss Scott. We’ll have to continue this discussion at a later date,” Ryan said, and stood up, fists clenched.

  By some miracle, the front of his uniform wasn’t stained with our juices. He marched to the window and threw it open.

  The tuk-tuk of a helicopter’s blades slicing air filtered in from outside.

  “Thank you for your time, Lieutenant Commander. Good afternoon, Petty Officer Jameson,” I said,
and rose from my seat. I nodded to them both then headed out of the door, nerves replacing the mushy happiness that had sprung up when Ryan admitted his feelings for me.

  Commander Shepherd had arrived. I’d be called to present him my ideas soon, and my future as an interior decorator would ride on that. If I failed, mom would close the store, if I succeeded, I’d have a military contract that might end up launching my career.

  And in the middle stood Ryan, neither available nor out of reach.

  Why did life have to be this confusing?

  Chapter 26

  Ryan

  Commander Shepherd was bald, tall, and walked like he owned everything and everyone in his path. He strode down the hall with me, as straight up and down as a street lamp, if street lamps had muscles and the power to end my career.

  “This way, Sir,” I said, and turned into the corridor leading up to my office. My heart couldn’t beat any fast, my mind couldn’t handle what I was sure was about to happen.

  “I see what you mean about this place,” Shepherd said. “It’s gray. Every inch of it is gray.”

  “That’s right, Sir. I think you’ll be very pleased when you meet our interior decorator. She’s got some plans that I think you’ll appreciate.”

  “One problem at a time, Baker. First, we have to discuss our course of action moving forward.”

  I beckoned Jameson, who’d positioned herself outside my office door to await our arrival – just in case she was needed. “Would you like some refreshments, Sir?”

  “Coffee,” Commander Shepherd replied, as hot and black as you can make it.

  “Same for me,” I said, to Jameson.

  The Petty Officer pushed off from the wall and rushed to follow the instruction. And then we were alone, me and my future.

  I held the door open for the Commander, and he swept past me, owning the room and everything in it as well. He didn’t sit down in the chair in front of my desk, instead, he swept around to my leather backed seat and took his place in it, then gestured for me to sit down too.

  I did as he commanded, and Shepherd drew a Cuban out of his top pocket and a cigar cutter with it. He didn’t offer me anything, of course. “No ash tray?” he asked, and studied my clutter-free desk with disdain.