It was the ideal set up for a casual and nearly anonymous date.
But something was wrong. Something was grossly different, like he was being led with golden chains to some kind of hot female house of pain. It scared him, but it also excited him more than he wanted to admit. Jake’s words—Not a fuckin’ thing—crawled around his brain like a black cat in heat. The rest of his beer was gone. He ordered another. His ears buzzed as the happy banter flew back and forth. The legendary smack talk they all did made muffled, unintelligible background noise.
He tapped his lace-up, lightweight Oxfords. His normal cargo pants and canvas slip-ons were back at the apartment. Today, he wore his faded Levis and a long-sleeved shirt.
Holy fuck.
His button down shirt was yellow! Now, what kind of a message was he sending the guys and the lady he was about to meet?
Better than a fuckin’ pink shirt.
He sat back, closed his eyes, and raised his forehead to the ceiling, composing himself like when he used to pray. As he settled his jaw and made a small adjustment to his shoulders, he opened his eyes.
For a second, he could have sworn Coop’s six-foot-four frame had blocked the sunlight at the entrance to the Scupper, like he’d seen a hundred times. But as he looked closer at the shape, he noticed a slim waist, curvy thighs, and a gait that was nothing like their tall medic, Calvin “Coop” Cooper. She nearly had to duck to get through the doorway, which meant she was no six-foot lady.
She was probably taller than Coop.
She headed right for him as if she’d known him her whole life, like she was following a tractor beam to the Death Star. He’d seen girls with radar for SEALs. This one was honed and toned and on a mission. Her shirt must have been made for an eight-year-old, but her forty-something at least D bra size was bulging for release. He clearly saw ten inches of tanned midriff, and it was all muscle.
As he remembered himself and brought his body to stand, he noticed she wore sandals with leather straps crisscrossing up her shapely calves, over her knees, and disappearing under her incredibly short jeans skirt.
He was weaving. The snickering at the table brought him to attention, and he stood erect, in every way he was capable. She looked right at his crotch and smiled.
“You must be Alex.”
“You must be Sydney.”
“I am.” Her voice was husky and sultry. Alex’s usual casual demeanor and smooth-as-glass countenance under pressure evaporated. “Been waiting to meet you all day, Alex.”
He knew if he shook her hand it would be the end of something. Maybe his dignity.
He did it anyway.
Chapter 2
‡
Sydney liked the feel of the SEAL’s hands. She also felt the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He was good at control, which she liked as well. His hands were callused, verifying he was indeed a SEAL and not a poser. She even liked the fact that his voice broke when he spoke to her for the first time.
Alex looked good, really good.
The country music at the bar and the low-level sports channels on the three big screen TVs overhead, the occasional laughter and male banter faded into background noise. She could have been standing in the middle of a men’s locker room. The view was that nice.
She slipped her hand from his as he held on just a tad longer than he probably meant to. Scanning the table, they had not made room for her, so she looked up, and before she could ask the question, Alex offered her the head of the table, standing behind her chair.
“A gentleman,” she purred so softly she wasn’t sure he could hear her, and took a seat. His hands gripped her shoulders briefly before he took his place perpendicular. “Hi, fellas,” she waved to the table and got muffled acknowledgements back. “So Alex, this is a group thing, then?” She knew it wasn’t, but couldn’t resist the poke at his expense.
One of his friends was laughing. At Alex. She didn’t take it as a sign of any disrespect to her. Alex sported a bashful grin and was nodding.
Did that mean she’d passed the test? She’d spent the whole afternoon getting waxed every place she could and getting her nails done in a white French manicure which matched her toes. They nearly glowed in the low light of the famous hangout.
She saw the pictures of young handsome men plastered over the walls above the liquor bottles, beneath the TVs. “Our Heroes” was hand written on a white sign that she’d seen over the years growing up in San Diego, when she and her high school girlfriends used to try to stop by and pick up a SEAL. They’d always gotten kicked out.
This time, they surrounded her.
Alex asked her what she wanted to drink, got the waitress’ eye, and ordered her Merlot. “I’d share one with you, but I prefer beer.”
“No problem. To each his own,” she assured him. The chocolate brown of Alex’s eyes and his dark hair made him look boyish and younger than he surely was. She’d been concerned she’d be older than him, but as she studied him she began to relax.
After she received her wine glass, they toasted the beer and the Merlot. “Here’s to blind dates and…” Alex stumbled for what to say.
“How about just blind dates so we don’t get ahead of ourselves?” she whispered.
When he smiled, she found the dimple at the right side of his full lips intoxicating. Her fingers itched to smooth over his jawline and feel the beginning stubble growing there already.
Sydney wasn’t sure how long they’d been staring into each other’s eyes, but the table began to clear out, and one by one the four other SEALs waved good-bye, winking and patting Alex on the back or socking his arm. She noted they horsed around like brothers in a very large family of boys.
“So, what do you do, Sydney?”
That’s when she realized he’d not been told anything about her.
“I’m three years out of college, playing the beach volleyball circuit for now, looking to rack up enough wins to claim a good sponsor and an even better partner.”
“Partner?”
“You’ve seen them play on the beach, I’ll bet. Two ladies. Lots of suntan lotion. Skimpy bathing suits and shades?”
“Oh yes. All over the place here.”
“Southern California is big beach volleyball country. The best players in the world live here. All I need is one. My last partner tore her rotator cuff and will be out for months. We’d come to the end of our game anyway. Looking for a new partner, probably someone better than me.” She watched his reaction. “If I can.”
“Why better than you?”
“I won’t get better playing with someone who isn’t better than I am. I might have strengths my partner might not have. But I’m looking for someone who can set my spikes.”
“As in hitting it back over the net?”
“Yes, so it will come at you at ninety miles per hour and land five feet or less from the net.”
He was checking out his beer glass, in deep thought. “Not a whole lot of people could return that ball. I know I sure couldn’t.”
“Oh, I guarantee you couldn’t.” She followed it up with a smile when his eyes darted to meet hers. The challenge was on. The best part about dating someone new was learning where their hot spots were and then pressing them. She liked pushing her limits, but she liked pushing the limits of her dates even more. Funny thing was, she was reeling herself in. This was her being nice, and already she was alarming him with her intensity. But if he was sensitive, she needed to know that, and know it quick. No sense wasting time.
He recovered nicely. “So, how many times have you jumped out of an airplane?”
That was an excellent scene-changer. Ask me about something I’ve never done. Expose my weak spot. Well, good for you, sailor. Her follow-up to that move would be to pretend he nailed her. And then she’d finish him off.
“Never.” She didn’t let up on him, staring him full in the face. She gave him the innocent shrug and puppy dog eyes. It worked.
“We’ll have to fix that sometime.” He
winced, almost imperceptibly, perhaps second-guessing his words.
“I like fixing things.”
“I’ll bet you do.” His low, rumbling cadence sent her blood pumping. He wouldn’t look at her anymore, but he smiled, knowing she was watching him, telling her he didn’t mind the scrutiny. Yes, he could handle the heat, she thought. He’d do just fine.
He was one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. His shoulders and arms were huge, barely fitting into the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. Just by the way he sat, she could tell he wasn’t used to dressing up. The jeans looked new and the shirt had been taken right out of a laundry box, the fold marks not pressed out.
“So you wanna go to a movie or something?” he asked.
“Sure. As long as it isn’t a sad one.”
“I hate mushy ones too.” His chin wrinkled as he frowned, adding a slight inclination of his head. “What do you like?”
“My favorite? My very favorite movies?”
“Yes. Of the movies playing now. At the theater, as opposed to renting—”
“Zombies.”
His eyes closed for a moment as he took in what she’d said. He licked his lips, leaned on his right arm, and studied her. “Really?”
“I love horror films.”
“I’ll be goddamned.” Alex shook his head, casually perusing the room. Then he finished his beer, running his tongue over his lower lip again, and whispered with a sexy smile, “Let’s go get you the bloodiest, creepiest zombie movie playing in the whole county then, Sydney. Would you like that?”
Her insides were cheering. He had no idea what he’d just said to her, a huge green light the size of the moon staring her in the face. The burning muscles in her thighs from today’s workout were painful, but still felt good. She knew she’d be stiff when she stood, and stiffer still after a long movie. It was an admission price she was willingly going to pay.
“Yes,” she returned, “I’d like that very much, Alex.”
He hesitated a few seconds and then leaned across the table and whispered, “Well then, why don’t you check your phone for movies and times, while I take a leak. Sound fair?”
“No problem.” Sydney didn’t look up as he walked to the rear of the Scupper. Within seconds she checked the movie times of the film she knew was opening this weekend. The theater was about a half hour away, and the movie started in forty minutes.
Tapping on the screen of her phone, the trailer began, showing white-faced flesh-eating monsters growling and drooling into the foreground. The dripping red movie title oozed down the length of the picture frame.
“The Zombie Rebel Alliance Returns,” said the announcer. The last shot before the screen froze was a greenish-gray hand with flesh peeling from it, showing bones and cartilage, trying to reach out from the phone to grab her.
Perfect!
Chapter 3
‡
Alex knew it was a bad sign to be in the men’s room twice before he and Sydney exited the Scupper, but his bladder was acting up. With the cups of coffee at the dive airport and the protein drink he’d had for breakfast, he guessed his liquid intake had been huge. He’d not been paying attention, and that was very unlike him.
He decided to confide in good old Saddam.
“You ever get nervous when you were dating way back when?” he asked as he began his stream, which relieved him immediately. The muscles in his lower belly relaxed and his back stopped hurting. “She likes horror films. Should I read anything into that?”
He didn’t get a response from the sad photograph.
Sydney stood when he returned to their table, announcing, “Got the perfect one, but it starts soon. We gotta book.” She’d put her jacket on, and slung her purse over her shoulder, looking like a little girl ready for an ice cream.
Alex studied the theater’s address on her cell phone screen and nodded. “I was there last weekend.” When he noticed she’d frowned, he assured her, “No worries, I haven’t seen this one yet.” Her eyes softened, but maintained their eager expression. “I guess we should leave your car here. Pick it up later?”
Her lips formed an “O” and then she licked them, her tongue brushing-over her bright red lipstick. Her sexy smile spread slowly, getting him dangerously close to being inappropriate. Teasing his self-control further, she smelled wonderful, the very definition of a woman heavily laden with pheromones. She was so damn kissable, he wanted to just take her in his arms and try to change her mind about the movie. But he also knew he wanted her primed and excited. Her energy was addicting, and for now, all he wanted to do was to get her good and stoked.
She lowered her eyes, giving him the ripe opportunity to gaze at her chest, which lusciously rose and fell with her heavy breathing. “My girlfriend dropped me off,” she said as she raised her chin. “So I’m afraid I’m going to rely on you getting me home.” Her eyelids fluttered just a tad as an exclamation mark he couldn’t miss.
His pants were so damned tight, he worried the zipper would break. He’d thought it impossible he could get more aroused when she suddenly touched her forefinger to his lips and he found himself sucking her digit to beyond the first joint. Her eyes were transfixed with how he fed off her, devoured her essence. He reached for the back of her head, intending to run his fingers through her beautiful, honey-brown hair and pull her into him, but she stepped back.
He nearly gasped. Her eyes became dark, as she must have sensed his need, his total desire for this women he’d only spoken a few words to. It was indeed a chemical reaction he’d never felt before. His knees began to weaken. He realized she was waiting for him to speak, but he couldn’t find his tongue, having nearly swallowed it.
In that way women do, she entangled her arm around his, drew him close to her body, and whispered, further binding him with the golden threads of enchantment and desire, “Let’s not miss the movie, okay?”
The theater’s thick red carpeting had a gold scrolling pattern embedded in the fibers. The smell of popcorn made a trip to the snack bar a must, even though they were short on time.
“I’ll have a quad latte,” Sydney said to the tatted help behind the counter. The young lady attendant chewed on her bottom lip, rolling her tongue over her lip ring.
“Make that two,” he interjected. “You like chocolate?”
Sydney lit up like a Christmas tree. “Absolutely! A food group.”
She was perfectly formed, which indicated to Alex she only drank quad shots of espresso and munched down chocolate and popcorn on special occasions. He desperately hoped he was one of those.
She pointed to the boxes of chocolate covered mints, and as Alex was paying for them, she ripped open the box and dumped them into her popcorn. Then, she tossed the mixture like a gourmet salad. When she caught him staring at her, she stuck out her lower lip with the beginnings of a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who likes to separate his food and eats in a clockwise direction.”
“Not a chance, Sydney.”
She extended her arm as they ambled over to theater eleven. Alex carried the coffees while Sydney held the popcorn mixture. “I like the sweet and the salty together. Try it.” She stopped like they had all the time in the world. He hadn’t expected it, so gently ran into her body, which wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. His brain practically groaned at the sensation of being pressed against her curves.
He allowed her to feed him a fingerful of popcorn with one Junior Mint in the middle. Her eyes were transfixed on his lips again as she intently watched him eat and react to her concoction.
Alex had to admit, he liked the taste. He held her coffee while he took a chaser from his cup, watching her again. The familiar zing down his spine gladdened his spirits. He put his palm at the small of her back and gently led her into the darkened auditorium. She was putty at his touch and took his direction without resistance.
God, have I died and gone to Heaven?
The credits had just come on and the background music was eerie. Because
of her height, Sydney adjusted herself lower in the cushioned seat. Alex hunkered down next to her, peering over the large box of popcorn. Her eyes looked scared at first as she focused on the film, filling her mouth with popcorn and the chocolate mints. He was fascinated just watching her eat.
He didn’t want to stare at her the whole time so he tore his attention from her occasionally, but he doubted she noticed. The movie was big on loud, bloody screams, and Alex noted her eyes began to grow wider with every one.
At one point, a girl was franticly looking for a hiding spot from a male zombie and had decided to use the closet. But the whole audience knew the zombie was in that closet, waiting to attack.
“No!” Sydney shouted, which brought several heads in the theater turning abruptly. “Don’t be stupid!” she followed.
Alex was nearly jerked from his seat at her outburst. Didn’t she know it was only a movie?
“Shhh,” he whispered, putting his arm around her shoulder. He could feel her blood pumping as her upper torso began to shake. He took that as a sign she needed the shelter of his arms, and he was only too happy to oblige. She ducked under his chin, pressing her breasts into his ribs so hard he could feel the lace of her bra.
Of course the male zombie tore the girl in the movie to shreds. This made Sydney hold onto him tighter, something Alex as grateful for. But when she grasped his dick and squeezed hard, he dropped his coffee with a loud “plunk.”
Her expression was confusing, as the movie played in the background. He started to dip his head, hoping for a kiss that would lead to her releasing his balls, which now started to burn. But on the large screen, the hero arrived, using a large sword to slice off the top of the zombie’s head, right above the ears. The view of the unfortunate zombie’s putrid, dark green brain matter and deep maroon blood spurting caught Alex up short and he forgot the pain in his pants.
Band of Bachelors: Alex, Book 2 Page 2
