Bad Conduct

by Ashley Ladd

  “I doubt he’ll even want to talk to me again.”

  She strode over to him and planted her feet squarely before him. “If you’re so sorry, why not let it die? Why make a big stink?”

  Her shadow felt icy and foreboding, and he briskly rubbed his arms to instil warmth. “There were larger issues at stake. Gay rights. Sexual preference has no bearing on whether or not someone is a good soldier. I should be allowed to enlist if I want.”

  She quirked her brow and looked suspiciously like Mr. Spock. Her gaze dissected him as if she were a scientist—or as if she longed to do a lobotomy on him. “So this is about you?”

  Anger boiled in his veins and catapulted him to his feet. “No, dammit! I don’t want to get my head shot off in a place we shouldn’t be. But a lot of other gays want to join and they’re not allowed—not if they’re openly gay.”

  She closed her eyes, and a tear squeezed out. “So Ty is a casualty of war. Your war.”

  “Would you prefer he went back over to Iraq with a bull’s eye on his chest?”

  She shuddered and hugged herself. Then she bit her lips. She blinked rapidly several times before saying, “No. But that’s his decision. At least, it should have been.”

  Brendan jumped to his feet. “Exactly!”

  Bianca narrowed her eyes. “Why are you here? To push the stake deeper into my heart?”

  He stood and gathered her to his heart. He smoothed her hair away from her face. Her body felt too frail, and he frowned. “I want to help, to make up for my sins. What can I do?”

  The tension ebbed from her frame, and she clung to him. A choked sob escaped her lips then another. “I don’t know. The lawyers tell me you can’t fight the military. There’s nothing we can do except be supportive of Ty. And stop talking to the press.”

  Then a half giggle, half hiccough tickled his ears.

  “Unless you have a time machine to go back and never talk about this in the first place.”

  Curses spluttered off his lips. “I wish.”

  If he did, he’d go back to the fateful Christmas she’d asked him for the special favour that had set all this in motion and say, “No fucking way!”

  Since he couldn’t, he brushed a kiss over her temple and held her close. “He needs us to be there for him no matter what. Can you do that?”

  She pulled back and silently regarded him for a long time. Then she licked her lower lip and murmured, “I don’t know. There was a time I thought I could accept you and him, but I don’t know any more. And can you really accept him and me?”

  Brendan’s heart lurched. He loved Ty so very much he didn’t want to let him go. But could he share him? In particular, could he if he was the part-time lover and Bianca got him full-time?

  * * * *

  Ty suffered the humiliation of discharge. Worse, because of Brendan, the thing was a media circus, and his face was splashed across not only local TV but the whole damned internet.

  His parents were in shock. His mom said she couldn’t face her neighbours or her ladies guild at church.

  Several of his former platoon mates had been interviewed to say they didn’t want him back, that he’d ogled their naked bodies in the shower.

  His mother’s pastor openly prayed for his soul on national TV.

  Bianca’s family declined comment, but they hadn’t sent any words of encouragement, either.

  Nor was the gay community wholly on his side after they discovered his engagement to Bianca.

  He was an outcast.

  A half-breed.

  The next few days crawled by in a blur of boredom. To pass the time while he was incarcerated in a boring jail cell, he worked out doing push ups, stomach crunches and jumping jacks. He read whatever he could—the Bible and trade magazines. His stomach protested at the bad grub so he ate little.

  He ached to see Bianca but had been limited to a few short visits.

  He became intimately familiar with the ceiling. He prayed his life wasn’t ruined. More importantly, he prayed Bianca’s wasn’t.

  “Hey you, Jack LaLanne. Your attorney’s here.” His guard, a young, bald guy with a tough New York accent twitched his moustache and jingled the keys in his door. “D-day’s here. He wants you to put on your full military dress.”

  His officer’s bars felt heavier than the weight of the world, and he kissed them goodbye. He watched his new whiskers wash down the drain with life as he knew it.

  His blood boiled, and the pulse at the base of his neck hammered, deafening him.

  * * * *

  Ty sat up erect and poised as he could. He focused on the tribunal proceedings as best as he could, gluing his gaze on whomever had the floor.

  When the prosecuting attorney mounted huge, blown-up glossies of himself and Brendan kissing, groping, and undeniably engaging in homosexual acts while he was dressed in his military uniform, his shoulders slumped. Knots twisted in his gut so hard he thought he would throw up. His head pounded so hard he couldn’t make out their words.

  Did he need to?

  Those photos damned him to hell.

  What had possessed him to lose control while still in uniform, in front of a crowded room? He cursed his randy dick.

  He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. No one had put a gun to his head. He knew the rules and the consequences even if he thought them archaic.

  “He isn’t military material,” the prosecuting attorney said as she jabbed her finger at Ty. “He definitely isn’t officer material.”

  That stung so he sat up straighter and glared at the bony colonel.

  “I wouldn’t follow him anywhere, especially not into battle, and I wouldn’t trust the safety of our troops to someone who shows such poor judgement.”

  She spun on her glossy black heels to face the judge, a full bird colonel. “There’s no doubt Captain Gibson broke the law. Furthermore, he showed total disregard for his rank and for the Army. We can’t afford to keep him in our ranks, for our safety or for his.”

  The judge tugged at his moustache and frowned at Ty. “I agree. Captain Gibson has conducted himself inappropriately and brought disgrace to both himself and the Army. We cannot afford to overlook his bad conduct, nor do we have a choice. It’s against the law.”

  “We protest! This is commy law! We aren’t in the Dark Ages anymore! Sexuality has no bearing on job performance.”

  Ty moaned at the sound of Brendan’s voice. Of its own volition, his body twisted in his chair so he could get a look at the commotion behind him.

  The two MPs held Brendan as they tried to escort him out. A third MP gripped the gun in the holster on his hip.

  Brendan was dressed in a conservative black suit and tie, although eye-liner rimmed his crazed eyes, and his ebony hair spiked out in several directions. He spat at the policemen and jutted out his chin. “I thought we were living in the land of the free and the brave. Obviously, it’s the land of the bigoted and the small-minded.”

  Although Ty agreed with every word Brendan shouted, he sat stoically. The Army wouldn’t cave to insults, and he couldn’t afford more bad behaviour unless he wanted to land in the brig until he was too impotent to enjoy sex with anyone and Bianca and Brendan forgot what he looked like.

  As Brendan was being dragged out of the courtroom to a chant of ‘gay rights’ in the corridor beyond, Ty pursed his lips and gave a slight nod.

  Several mind-numbing moments later, Ty was a civilian without a job. In a daze, he roamed the streets, wondering what to do next. He knew he should feel grateful to be free and not locked up to rot in a military jail, but he didn’t feel much of anything except panic.

  Going out of business signs and deserted stores were almost as prevalent as places open for business. Gone were the Help Wanted signs from the convenience stores and gas stations that had always been there before his stint overseas.

  He dropped a few quarters in a newspaper stand and thumbed to the classifieds. Sales opportunities requiring money up front but few real employment oppo
rtunities littered the columns.

  As the sun set over the city as well as his hopes and dreams, he made his way home. At least, he hoped Bianca would let him in. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she hadn’t been at his trial like Brendan, and he didn’t know what to make of her absence.

  * * * *

  Bianca chewed her already shredded fingernails. She stared at the damned clock and wondered where Ty was. She couldn’t get into TV or books so stared at the walls.

  She was startled awake by the click of the door. Disoriented, she jerked up and blinked. She was still in the living room. The cat jumped off her and squeezed under the couch.

  A long shadow entered the room and someone else’s breathing filled the air.

  “Bianca, baby.” Ty’s shadow seemed to sit in her lap a second before he cradled her in his arms and crushed her against his heart.

  “You’re home.” Her heart cried with a mixture of sorrow. She pulled back to gaze at his face, and she searched his eyes.

  His mouth was pinched and his cheeks had grown gaunter. Ghosts flittered through his eyes.

  If she wasn’t careful, she’d drown in his misery. She pressed her lips to his and murmured, “I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

  His lips moulded to hers then a raw whisper tore from him. “You know? You weren’t there. You didn’t come.”

  “But I did!” Her muscles jumped and the memories of the day crowded in. “They wouldn’t let anybody in.”

  “I saw Brendan…”

  Brendan’s name burned in still-open wounds. Once again, Brendan earned brownie points and she was in the minus range. She inhaled deeply. “Brendan barged in through a barricade of policemen.”

  She shook her head. Jerry Springer would’ve loved to get that episode on film. She prayed Brendan wouldn’t go there. She had no desire to have her private life dragged through the mud. So far the press had mostly left her out of it.

  She wrinkled her nose. Of course, they’d be more interested in the flamboyant, egocentric Brendan over her quiet, low-keyed self.

  “Penny for them.” Ty slid his finger under her chin and tipped her face forcing her to gaze in his eyes.

  Did he really want to know? “They’re not very Christian.”

  “Tell me!” he roared and moved closer again. “I want us to work this out, to come out on top.”

  She wanted that, too, but was she prepared to live in a fishbowl and have her life dissected?

  Her heart lurched.

  What was the alternative? Give up on love? Let it die without a fight?

  “I had visions of you, me and Brendan duking it out on Jerry Springer. That he and I would be clawing out each other’s eyes.”

  Ty’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “Do you two really hate each other so much? Or me?”

  Bianca was tired and scared. “I don’t hate him. But I’m deathly scared that you’ll choose him, if not right away then later on. I don’t have a cock so how can I satisfy you? Sorry that sounds so crass, but that’s the truth.”

  What little was left of Ty’s tan drained from his face, and his jaw dropped. Finally, he said in a low rumble, “I love you because you’re you. I just want to be with you for the rest of my life. You complete me.”

  He closed the gap between them and traced her trembling lips with his finger. “Your sunny yet provocative smile.”

  He cupped her cheek. “You’re angelic face.”

  He brushed her lid with his thumb. “You’re soulful eyes that I’m drowning in as I speak.”

  He sifted her hair through his fingers. “You’re gorgeous hair.”

  Then he laid his hand over her heart. “But most of all, your good heart and soul.”

  She twitched beneath the warmth of his hand suddenly feeling devilish, she grinned, curled her fingers around his and lowered it to her breast. “So you don’t like these?”

  Mischief darkened his eyes, and he slid his arms around her, pulled her close, and he rubbed her butt. His cock swelled against her tummy. “Oh. I love your sexy breasts and ass, too. They’ve been the stars of my dreams.”

  Her heart flipped, and she quaked with desire. She moulded herself closer and tilted her face for a kiss. She tossed him a crooked grin, slid her arms around him and rested her hands on his tight ass. “I’ve been dreaming about you, too. Guess I’m addicted to you.”

  She sniffed his shirt then swept her tongue along the side of his neck. “I’m getting pretty high on you right now.”

  Laughter burst from his lips, and his eyes twinkled. “Babe, I can take us way higher than this, so high we’ll never come down.”

  She thanked God for lifting his spirits and bringing him back safe for second chances.

  His cock throbbed, and she massaged it. “I crave you and this. I know how wonderful I feel when you’re inside me, fucking me. I see why you like it.”

  She started to ask if he could really live without ever feeling such an incredible sensation again but stopped herself. Should she dictate his forever? Should she deny the man she loved something so awesome?

  Her head shook of its own volition. She loved him too much. Surely they could compromise.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  She blinked and refocused on him. “Nothing. Not with us. I want you to be happy. I don’t want to deny you sex with men if that’s what makes you happy.”

  Ty scowled and swore. His fingers bit into her thighs. In a raw voice, he cried, “Christ, baby. I told you I want you, only you. I want us to get married as soon as I find a job whenever that might be. Please believe me.”

  Joy bubbled off her lips, and she pressed her palms against his cheeks. “I believe you. I’m saying you can still have sex with a man. Occasionally. If I’m part of it.”

  “You don’t have to do that—”

  “I do. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy.”

  Wariness pushed the hurt out of his eyes. “Is this a test? Give me an ‘A+’. I only want you.”

  She rocked against him. “No test. I mean it.”

  “Tonight’s our night, and I want you now.” Before she could reply, he swung her into his arms and carried her to their room.

  She remembered how she’d tossed away their engagement ring, and she frowned. As he laid her on the bed, she wrinkled her nose. “I, uh, have a confession you won’t like.”

  He paused at the foot of the bed where he was crawling up. His head snapped up. He winced. “You met someone else while I was away?”

  She rolled her eyes then sobered. She held up her naked hand and wiggled her fingers. “No. But it’s not good. Uh, I threw away your ring.”

  Expecting anger or at least sorrow, she winced. When he chortled, she did a double take. She narrowed her eyes. “That’s funny?”

  Ty stood and dipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out something tiny that reflected light. She stared at it as he turned it.

  Her ring!

  Aghast and giddy all at once, she squealed and put her hand to her mouth. “Where’d you get that?”

  “One of my friends found it and told me how you’d run off from the party…” His voice cracked and he perched on the side of the bed and captured her hand.

  “Can you ever forgive me? Will you wear my ring again and never take it off?”

  Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, and she was so happy she could fly. Choked up she sprang forward and fiercely hugged him. She wagged her fingers under his nose. “Please do the honours.”

  He slid off the bed and got down on his knees. He gazed deeply into her eyes. “Marry me, baby. Let’s not wait any longer. I was a fool not to officially make you mine before I went overseas.”

  Tears stung her eyes. One slipped down her cheek then another. Quaking, she nodded. “I want that, too.”

  Reverently, he kissed her ring finger then slid on the band of gold. Then he kissed his way up her arm. He crawled onto the bed and plundered her lips.

  “It works better with our clothes off.” She squir
med and tugged down his pants. Then she pushed off his underwear.

  He chuckled and rolled to her side. “Not if my legs are trapped in my drawers.”

  On fire, she slid out of her clothes while he still struggled with his. She clucked her tongue. “Tsk tsk. They let you handle firearms?”

  An adorable blush stole up his neck and settled in his cheeks. “I never tried to fire a weapon with my pants about my knees.

  She took pity more on herself than him and helped him. “How did you survive without me?”

  “It was pure hell and torture. I never want to be without you again.”

  It had been for her, too. Her mirth evaporated and she shivered. She wouldn’t let the Army, Brendan or anything else come between them again.

  “You’re home now,” she whispered and held out her arms.

  A wicked smile curved his lips and he fit himself between her legs and drove his cock long and deep. “Now, I’m home and I ain’t leaving.”

  About the Author

  Ashley Ladd lives in South Florida with her husband, five children, and beloved pets. She loves the water, animals (especially cats), and playing on the computer.

  She's been told she has a wicked sense of humour and often incorporates humour and adventure into her books. She also adores very spicy romance, which she weaves into her stories.

  Email: chinara@aol.com

  Ashley Ladd loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

  Also by Ashley Ladd

  Crazy in Love

  Recipe for Disaster

  Friction

  Best Mates

  Doggy Style

  Simon Says

  Caught in the Middle

  Night of the Senses

  Secret Admirer

  Last Man on Earth

  Christmas Miracles

  Naughty Boys

  Heart and Soul

  Submissive Dreams