Body Heat

by Mia Ford

  As such, it struck him as nothing but a surprise when he walked into that office and saw her sitting there. That initial shock was the real reason he had pretended not to know her, automatically slipping into flirt mode. But now that was passed and as a result he hurried from the officer in pursuit of her.

  "Liv! Hey, Olivia!" He caught up to Olivia just outside the office, on the steps of the building. When she heard her name called, Olivia half stopped, half kept walking, as if undecided whether she should turn and talking to the Navy SEAL. But, as his voice boomed down the steps and across the yard, she really couldn’t ignore it.

  "Hello," she said flatly as she turned to face Clint. Her stance was formal in nature, as if she were addressing a client, rather than an ex-lover.

  "Hello?" he responded, smirking at her dry response. "I thought I would have at least warranted a semi-enthusiastic 'hey.' Or a even a hug and a cheek kiss?" he joked as he reached her.

  "What's up?" Olivia asked. She was being short and to the point. Clint could feel the animosity pouring from her. Clearly she still hadn't forgiven him either.

  "Oh nothing," Clint continued in his usual jovial manner. If there was one thing about Clint, he was hard to throw off. He had a level of self-confidence that wasn't easily dissuaded. "I just haven't seen you in four years. I thought maybe you didn't recognize me? You weren't very forthcoming in there."

  "It would have been unprofessional if I had acted like I knew you. I'm assigned to assess if you broke any laws. I'm not here to catch up on old times." She spoke to him like he were a soldier and she were his commanding officer. Formal and direct.

  "Ah... I see you haven't changed," Clint let out a sigh. He was disappointed by the way she was acting, truth be told. She had always been the serious type, putting work above everything else. He thought that considering their history, he may have warranted a different response.

  "What do you want, Clint?"

  "Honestly? I just wanted to catch up. I haven't spoken to you since the Academy. I thought you might want to get a drink with me? I'm in town for a few days and --"

  "I don't think that's such a good idea. In fact I know it's not," she finished.

  "The bad ideas are always the best ones," he joked again, reaching out and patting her on the arm. She instantly recoiled under his touch. Was she really still that mad at him? "I have to admit though, I was shocked to see you. I thought you were in intelligence? I had no idea you moved into legal?"

  "I didn't," Olivia replied, letting out a sigh before stopping herself. It was the first emotion she had shown around Clint. "I was assigned to you for... for reasons between me and my C.O."

  "Reasons? Is that what you call applying to the Navy SEAL training program – of course I knew. Every SEAL knows," he pushed when he saw the shocked expression on Olivia's face. "I'm surprised they didn't ask you to take leave. But I suppose being assigned to my dumb ass is just as bad?"

  The reason for Olivia's assignment and current demotion was purely political. Roughly three months earlier she had made her Commanding Officer aware that she intended to apply for Navy SEAL training. Doing so would make her the first ever female Navy SEAL, assuming that she passed. Although it wasn't illegal, it was heavily frowned upon, making Olivia public enemy number one.

  "Is there anything else?" Olivia asked in her predetermined short manner.

  "No, I don't think so." Clint could tell that he hit a nerve with the Navy SEAL comment. "Just thought I should say hey. You look good Olivia."

  To that Olivia offered a curt nod, turned and walked across the yard as fast and far away as she possibly could. The whole time Clint watched her go, a wry smile on his face. Yep, she was exactly as he remembered her to be. The whole uptight routine was an act, he knew it to be. Back in the academy he used to relish breaking through it. It was almost a game to him. Today though, she wasn't having any of it. Clearly old wounds didn't heal as fast as he had hoped.

  But even with the way she was acting, Clint had to admit that his attraction for her hadn't faded. If anything it had only increased. What a shame then that nothing was to come of it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Olivia didn't usually go to bars alone. And when she didn't it definitely wasn't with the intention of getting smashed on vodka as a means to numb the pain and forget past worries. That kind of behavior was reserved for alcoholics and the clinically depressed. But there was nothing usual about that days events. In fact it was probably the worst day that Olivia had had in recent memory. As such, the moment she finished work, she made her way to the bar.

  The bar was a naval one located only a few short minutes from where Olivia lived. She had never actually been there before, primarily due to the clientele. Naval bars, and indeed any military bar, were always teeming with drunk sailors, soldiers and marines. It was a testosterone fuelled environment where fights were encouraged and woman were seen as a life support system for what was located between their legs.

  As Olivia entered the bar, she automatically concluded that this bar was going to be no different. Of the thirty or so patrons that filled the small space, twenty eight of them were male. Of that twenty eight, about twenty five were military and of those twenty five, twenty were drunk beyond comparison. The music was loud, the air stunk of whiskey and cigars and Olivia immediately regretted her decision to go there.

  It was only because the bar was as full as it was that Olivia was able to navigate her way through the throng, drink in hand and park herself in the corner without being molestered. She may have received the odd stare or wink, but if she had, she didn't notice. Her thoughts were heavily preoccupied with a certain Navy SEAL.

  Seeing Clint again had brought back a wave of emotions that she didn't even realize she still had. She had acted rather cold to him outside of Captain Warrick's headquaters, she knew that. It wasn't done out of spite, or anything like that. It was purely a defense mechanism. She just had no idea how she should have acted. Clint had always been a pretty easy going guy, making it very hard to get a reading on him. Did he harbor any feelings of animosity toward her over how things ended between them?

  The break-up of Clint and Olivia four years prior wasn't anything sinister. The two had met in the Naval Academy, both in the same year and both with similar aspirations. But after a year of study, Clint all of a sudden quit, citing his desire to join the Navy SEAL's instead. At the time Olivia chastised the decision, calling him foolish and claiming his was throwing away his future. That was the reason she gave him anyway.

  The real reason for her anger at the time was that she knew that if he left to join the SEAL's, she wouldn't see him again for at least a year. He was the first man she had ever really developed feelings for and was furious with herself for letting him get to her and with him for acting like their relationship didn't matter. For all she knew he thought of her as nothing more than a way to kill some time.

  It was because of this that they got into a big fight, he left and they never spoke again.

  As she sipped on her drink, enjoying the isolation she was currently receiving, Olivia made the very bold decision to apologize to Clint the next time she saw him. She was going to be the bigger person. Maybe he had changed? She was going to --

  "Hey there beautiful." It was a greeting that Olivia was all too familiar with. That, coupled with the drunken slur of the man who spoke it, indicated pretty clearly to Olivia that it was a greeting that wasn't going to be worth turning around for.

  Sure enough, the moment that Olivia turned to see who had spoken, she wished that she hadn't. He was a Marine, of that she could be sure. With a shaved head, a square set face and very thick neck, he was the quintessential Marine that Olivia knew only too well. She also knew that he was the kind of Marine that she should avoid at all costs, especially while in a bar.

  "I said hey beautiful," the Marine tried again. When he first greeted her we was a good ten feet away, watching her from the distance like an animal stalking its prey. Now though, becoming sudd
enly emboldened, he moved right up to Olivia, leaning himself on the table that she was sitting at.

  "No, I heard you. I just chose not to respond," Olivia said, careful not to make eye contact as she spoke. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and judging by the way he swayed as he stood over her, he was more than a few drinks into his night.

  "What brings a pretty thing like you into this dive?" he asked, powering on with his attempted pick-up. Realistically he wasn't even listening to her.

  "Nothing. Just looking to have a drink, alone," Olivia continued, still careful not to actually make eye contact with the Marine. She knew his type. He would talk to her for a moment or so and as soon as he realized that he wasn't going to be getting any, he would move on. It was annoying sure, but ultimately bearable.

  "Alone? Where's the fun in that?" the Marine asked. As he did his hand, resting on the table, slipped out from under him, resulting in him stumbling forward before rebalancing himself.

  "No fun. Just drinking. Alone." She made sure to really emphasize the alone part. She didn't want to seem rude, but she also wanted to make it as clear as possible that his presence wasn't welcome.

  "Let's see if I can change that --" the Marine suddenly made to pull up a chair at Olivia's table.

  "OK. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Olivia said, reaching across and grabbing the chair before he had a chance to seat himself in it. "There's plenty of other people here you can talk to tonight. Thank you."

  "Now just a minute," the Marine continued, wrenching the seat from her grip and falling into it. "I'm just trying to have a friendly conversation. No need to be a prude or nothing."

  Olivia had to bite her tongue at that comment. If there was one thing she hated it was the assumption that she was a prude just because she didn't feel like being hit on by every man on the planet. "Listen, soldier. I'm a commissioned officer, you're an enlisted man. I'm asking you to leave me be."

  "Now, now," the Marine continued, sliding in a little closer. "There's no need to pull rank all of a sudd --"

  Olivia had had enough. She threw the rest of her drink down, scooted her seat back and was on her feet before the Marine had a chance to finish his thought. A second after that and she was gone from the bar, leaving the Marine in her wake.

  Free from the confines of the bar and from the arrogance of that Marine, she was finally able to stew in her own anger. Really she just could not believe what had happened. She had been hit on before in a simialr fashion of course. But after the first or second no, they always got the point and moved on. This time however --

  "Hey love!" Olivia stopped in her tracks, a cold shiver running up her spine. She thought she recognized the voice, but didn’t want to turn around and confirm it. "Where are you going?" It was the same Marine. He had followed her from the bar and was making a beeline toward her. He wasn't so much walking as he was stumbling; a fact that made the situation even more frightening.

  "I think you need to turn around and go back inside," Olivia said, keeping her voice calm and steady. As she spoke she took note of her surroundings. The parking lot was completely empty. The only other signs of life came from inside the packed bar; a space so crowded and noisy that no one would hear a thing. "That's an order."

  "An order?" The Marine asked, sounding bemused as he got steadily closer. Twenty feet. Ten feet. Olivia didn't run, she knew not too. Like a rabid dog, such an act would only provoke. "Let's not be too serious here. I'm just trying to talk to you."

  "I appreciate that, but I don't want to be talked to. Now please, I would greatly appreciate it if --"

  "Hold on a second," he cut her off as his hand reached out and grabbed onto her arm.

  Olivia, still calm, tried to pull her arm from his grip, but he wasn't letting go. "Please, can you let me --"

  "Why are you acting like this?" he asked, increasing his grip on her arm. "All I want is to talk."

  For the first time that night, Olivia felt scared. The Marine wans't in the frame of mind to be reasoned with or battered with. The fact that she was an officer and he was an enlisted man didn't seem to make a difference. Olivia was willing to bet that there wasn't much that was going to dissuade him. And because of that she had no idea what to do.

  His grip increased on her arm as he took another step closer. She could feel his warm breath on her face, she could smell it too. It stunk of stale booze. It stunk of rot. His eye's crossed each other as he looked into her own, a creepy grin spreading across his face. It didn't take a genius to work out what was on his mind --

  "Hey!" The voice cut across the silence of the parking lot like the crack of a whip. "I think you need to let the lady go."

  Olivia recognized the voice the moment she heard it. It was a voice that had never sounded so sweet. One that used to make her heart beat fast and her knees shake. Looking over the Marine's shoulder, her heart gave an involuntary leap of joy when she spotted Clint. He appeared sober, at least from what Olivia could tell, and angry.

  The Marine took a few moments to react, looking from Clint to the empty parking lot around him and then back to Clint, as if there were a chance he was talking to somebody else. The whole time he kept his grip on Olivia's arm too, like he was worried she would try and flee the moment he let go.

  "Did you not hear me?" Clint asked, now only a few feet from the Marine and Olivia. "I said I think you need to let her go. And after you do that you should probably turn around and head back inside." The command in his voice was chilling and Olivia didn’t know how the Marine didn’t let go of her arm then and there, turn and flee inside.

  But he didn't. "What the fuck is it to you?" The Marine said, the anger and intent clear in his voice.

  "I'll ask you one more time," Clint responded. He was face to face with the Marine now. With his hands by his side he was completely vulnerable. Olivia wanted to yell out and warn him, tell him to watch out. But she didn’t. She never had the chance.

  The Marine, done with words, let go of Olivia's arm if only to get a better position by which to attack Clint. The moment he released his grip he turned his body, clenched his fist, brought his arm back and dropped to the ground.

  Olivia didn't even see it happen. One minute he was turning to attack Clint, the next he was on the ground, out cold. Clint, somehow, managed to knock him out without even moving. Well, obviously he had moved, but barely. It was so fast and so precise that Olivia barley caught it. If it wasn't for the passed out Marine on the floor she wouldn't have even realized it had happened.

  "Are you OK?" Clint asked. Gone was the jovial, smart aleck facade that he usually carried with him. His tone was serious and his eyes were even more so. The way he looked at Olivia was that of someone who actually cared for her, who was furious with what he had just come across.

  "I'm... yeah I'm..." She could barely get the words out. It wasn't even that she was shaken over the experience. And it wasn't that she was so grateful that she was having trouble forming words. It was that right then, in that moment, she was suddenly reminded of why she had fallen for Clint in the first place. She was transported back to the Naval Academy when Clint was everything to her. When he was the strong rock in her life that she used to lean on for support. When he was... when he was...

  --

  Whether it was she who invited him back to her house, or he who suggested it, Olivia couldn't recall. Really that detail wasn't important.

  Within minutes of them walking through her front door, the two were all over each other. It wasn't that it was planned, or preordained. It was just that, coming off the moment in the parking lot, Olivia was unable to control herself. Four years of pent up desires unleashed themselves that night to the point where she wasn't thinking about what she was doing, or what the consequences might be. Instead she just did them.

  They were in the kitchen when it happened. Olivia offered to make Clint a drink, which he accepted. But the moment she was in the tiny space, Clint lifted her up and plopped her on the kitchen table. As
he did so, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in so close that she could feel him getting hard beneath his jeans.

  As the two locked in a passionate embrace, their lips clashing, he biting her neck while she pulled down on his hair in a state of ecstasy, she had to work to control herself. She had to stop herself from screaming.

  Her free hand wasted no time in finding his belt. One quick movement with the buckle was all it took for her to unleash his pants and drop them to the ground. As Olivia had a skirt on, there was no need for Clint fo remove it. There wasn't time. At least it felt that way anyway. With his pants down, she wrapped her hand around his throbbing member, guiding it toward her open legs. It was hard in her palm, and she squeezed it as if working to engorge it even more than it already was.