Upon first glance, Cody had seemed as though he’d be like most other men his age—slightly immature and more interested in girls and working out than schoolwork—but upon further inspection, it seemed there was more to him.
He puzzled me. And I wasn’t puzzled very often.
Chapter 4
Cody
As I watched Dr. Vale walk away, I nearly went after him. I didn’t know what the fuck I would say, but I wasn’t ready to stop talking to him.
I got the feeling my first impression of him had been off a bit. Yeah, he gave off an icy vibe and was slightly intimidating. He had a way of looking at you as if he could see straight into your soul or something.
But underneath that icy layer was a hint of someone who had a sense of humor. Someone observant, intelligent, and maybe even a little quirky. He remembered my name after meeting me only once prior to class. If he was bigheaded and standoffish like I’d pegged him to be, why had he tried to make conversation? He could’ve easily told me to fuck off and gone about his business.
I opened my mouth to call out to him but faltered at the last second. Instead, I watched his tall, slender frame as he walked down the sidewalk toward the math and science building. The wind ruffled his blond hair, giving him that messy, sexy-as-fuck look, and I would’ve killed to see his eyes again as the sun shone on them.
Dr. Sebastian Vale was a man unlike any other. He didn’t even realize how appealing he was. Girls turned their heads to look at him as he passed them on the sidewalk. Hell, a few guys did, too. Some of the female instructors checked him out, speaking to each other in animated whispers. All the while, he kept walking, oblivious.
My stomach grumbled, reminding me why I was in such a rush to begin with. I ducked into the building and went toward the cafeteria. I grabbed a sausage pizza and a Gatorade before paying and heading back to the dorm room. I didn’t have any more classes for the day, so I planned to hang out in the dorm for a while. Maybe go to the library later to look at their selection of military non-fiction books.
When I walked through the door, Tristen was on the couch, hovered over some guy and making out as if his life depended on it. He gripped the guy’s neck as he devoured his mouth. The dude moaned as Tristen moved from his lips, down his neck, and to his nipples, flicking one with his tongue before sucking on it.
I cleared my throat.
Tristen snapped his head up in surprise before falling off the couch and fumbling to button his pants.
“Did I interrupt something?” I asked. It took everything I had not to bust a gut.
My best friend looked mortified. Meanwhile, the other guy chuckled and lowered his shirt.
“I need to go, anyway,” Mystery Guy said, getting off the couch and winking at me. “Call me later, Tris.”
I opened the door for him and closed it once he left.
“Ah, sorry I cock-blocked you, Tris.”
“Don’t call me that, you asshole.” He threw a couch pillow at my head, which I dodged. He was smiling, though. “Fuck you. That ass was calling my name.”
“Well, you won’t be able to answer its call right now.” I placed the pizza on the counter.
“What kind is that?” he asked, walking over.
“Sausage.”
He opened the lid and stole a slice. Looked like pizza was higher than sex on the priority list. Good thing I thought ahead and bought a large.
“Anything exciting happen to you today?” Tristen asked through a mouthful of food.
I thought of Dr. Vale—of his serious attitude, strong jaw, and perceptive eyes. My time with him wouldn’t exactly be exciting. Enlightening, maybe.
“Not really.” I grabbed a slice and bit into it. As meat, sauce, and cheese exploded on my taste buds, everything else faded away.
“Did you fanboy in class this morning?”
I snorted and almost choked. “Um, I don’t think so. I think I played it pretty cool.”
Of course, I had told Tristen about my admiration of Dr. Vale’s work. His research had been used in a lot of my pre-requisite classes earlier on for my degree. To have the man I’d already learned so much about be the one to teach me? It was like a dream come true.
As we finished off the box of pizza, we talked about our classes and complained about a few of the professors. Tristen was a history major, and he planned to go into teaching after fulfilling his active duty commitment to the Marine Corps.
“My world history professor is freaking weird,” Tristen said. “He’s nice and all. But he’s, like, this short little old man with long hair that he keeps in a low ponytail, and he says weird things.”
“Like what?”
“Like when he tells us something, he’ll go, ‘Know what I mean, jellybean?’ I have a feeling his class will be interesting.” Tristen’s blue eyes closed, and he sighed dramatically. “Very interesting for sure. Know what I mean…jellybean?”
Laughing, I stood from the table with my near-empty Gatorade in hand. He was such a character.
“So, that guy who was here. Do you think you’ll see him again?”
“Maybe. Just met him today.” Tristen shrugged. “He’s hot, but I don’t know. Now that my dick isn’t doing my thinking, some red flags are popping up. On the way here, he asked crazy questions like what’s my blood type and zodiac sign. I’m kinda afraid he’ll put a hex on me.”
At that, I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself.
***
Wednesday was uniform day. The whole unit of midshipmen was required to wear their uniforms all day while on campus. It was also my busiest day of the week. Physical training in the morning, followed by three classes, a small break, then drill lab that afternoon.
At 0500 hours my alarm went off, and I sluggishly got out of bed. You’d think I’d be used to waking up at the ass crack of dawn, but it was fucking hard. Still half-asleep, I rubbed my eyes and walked to my closet, pulling out my PT uniform—a green shirt, dark green shorts, and running shoes. Pretty basic.
In the winter, we could wear a gray sweatshirt over the shirt if we wanted, but no matter how cold it was, the PT sessions made you forget about the weather after a while.
Once I was dressed, I left my room and went into the kitchen to get a glass of juice. I didn’t like to eat before training, because I was prone to puking it up, but a glass of juice managed to hold me over until I could get a real breakfast.
“Morning!” Tristen walked down the hall with a smile on his face, his blond hair perfect.
Tristen was the golden boy of the battalion, waking up bright and early in the morning and being his chipper self. He also excelled in all the drills, got the best marks on the exams, and was friendly with everyone. A true leader and team player.
“I don’t see how you can be so alive this early,” I grumbled before gulping the rest of my OJ.
“You’ll wake up once you get your blood flowing,” he said, grabbing the carton of juice from the fridge to pour a glass, too. “Since we focused on bodyweight exercises Monday, I have a feeling today will be geared toward running and sprints.”
“Probably.”
I actually loved to run. I wasn’t sure why, but it was freeing for me. Over the years, I had reached a point where I didn’t tire easily, and it was the one activity that I was better at than Tristen. I could run for miles. The farther the better. As a teenager, I ran a lot, mostly after school. Rain, snow, or shine; I had been out there.
Back then, I’d been running from something, though. Running from the shit in my head and wishing I had a different life. If I ran far enough, I could escape my fate.
“Hey.” Tristen nudged my arm. “You okay?”
I blinked and focused on him. “Yeah. Why?”
A crease formed in his brow. “You just had a weird look in your eyes for a second.”
“Just tired.”
Tristen and I walked across campus to O’Brien Hall, the center for NROTC participants named after a fallen Marine who’d gone through the program years before. Ma
rk O’Brien was a war hero. Honor, courage, and commitment; a Marine through and through.
Going into the building, we were met by guys and girls, all wearing matching uniforms and waiting further instruction. Other than when attending drill lab, PT was the only time the whole unit was together. We joined them, saying hi to some of our other friends, before falling silent as the Marine Officer Instructor—MOI—walked out. He was the commanding officer attached to the NROTC unit and oversaw all the Marine midshipmen.
“Listen up,” Captain Franklin barked. He was dressed in his officer’s uniform, not a wrinkle in sight, and his high and tight haircut made his square face appear even more intimidating. “Time for accountability.”
Before becoming the MOI, Captain Franklin served for over twenty years in the Marine Corps, enlisting when he was nineteen and working his way up from there. He was tough but fair. The purpose for training us wasn’t to degrade us or beat us down, but rather to build us up to be the best we could be. Or something like that. A lot different than how I heard it was in boot camp, where the drill instructors called all the recruits shit stains and tortured them for fun.
Once all members were present, we were told to stretch and warm up. Everything was done as a group, which gave us a better understanding of the cohesiveness of the military. You trusted your fellow Marines. You bled and sweat with them.
“Alright,” Captain Franklin called out, once everyone had stretched. “Give me three miles on the green. I don’t want to see any slacking from any of you.”
The PT session was just as Tristen had speculated. A long-distance run followed by calisthenics. We went outside to run in a designated training area called the green. The sun was already beating down on us, making the warm morning even hotter.
By the end of it, Tristen’s face was as red as a strawberry and his blond hair was drenched in sweat. His shirt stuck to him, too.
“Jesus,” he wheezed, putting his hands on his hips as he fought to catch his breath, “How are you not dying right now? A long distance run in this summer heat is brutal.”
“Ah, you’ll live, golden boy,” I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
Every PT session ended with a cool down, so we joined the others on the track to do some stretches. I felt sorry for the people who had a class at eight. That gave them very little time to shower, eat, change into their uniform, and get to class.
I had slacked off on Monday after physical training, taking my sweet ass time going back to the dorm and showering. Then, I had lounged around my room and picked out what to wear, and just as I was debating on what I wanted for breakfast, I had realized class was about to start. I had hightailed it over to the math and science building and had made it to thermodynamics with a minute to spare.
Won’t make that mistake again.
Once Captain Franklin released us, Tristen and I jogged back to the dorm, bickering over who’d get to take the first shower. Since he was one of those unfortunate souls who had class at eight, I let him go first.
“Such a gentleman,” he said and slammed the bathroom door in my face.
While he showered, I cooked breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and wheat toast with some grape jelly. The bacon had just finished cooking when Tristen exited the bathroom, inhaling and groaning…with nothing but a towel around his hips.
I bit off a piping hot piece of bacon and looked away.
The day I met Tristen at the freshmen orientation for NROTC, I’d formed a little crush on him. He was sexy, funny, smart, and gay. But we didn’t work well as fuck buddies. The first time we had ever tried, it had been way too awkward. We were much better as friends.
“Checking me out again, Cody?” Tristen tsked and bounded over to steal a strip of bacon.
“It’s your own fault for walking around naked. Sue me.”
“Go shower. You stink.”
I pouted down at my hot eggs, fresh bacon, and toast that’d just popped up from the toaster. Stinky or not, my roaring belly outweighed my pride, and I sat down at the table to eat.
“Gross,” Tristen said, laughing.
“Stop calling me names. I made you some eggs, too, jackass.”
“Oh.” He grabbed the plate I had set out for him and joined me at the table. “I guess I take it back.”
“Better hurry and scarf it, so you have time to change into your uniform,” I said, after checking the time. He had about twenty minutes.
“I have a mama, Cody, I don’t need another.”
We finished eating around the same time, and I dumped the plates in the sink before jogging to the bathroom and stripping down.
The shower felt amazing, and since I had some extra time, I let myself enjoy it instead of rushing. I turned the knob more on the hot side, letting the heat soak into my tense muscles. I grabbed my body wash and lathered up, and when my hand brushed my cock, I started to get hard.
Shower jack-off sessions were one of my favorite things, mainly because I had complete privacy. It also made for an easy clean-up.
I squirted a bit more shower gel into my palm and gripped my base, working my slick hand up and down my shaft, slow at first. My cock grew, hardening even more against my palm, and I tilted my head forward and squeezed my eyes shut, going to my spank-bank thoughts.
However, instead of picturing Chris Evans in his Captain America outfit as usual, I saw Dr. Vale. He regarded me with his green eyes and gently pushed me onto his desk. He wore a white lab coat…and nothing else. And fuck me, he was gorgeous. In reality, I had no idea what he looked like beneath his clothes, but in my fantasy, he held no comparison.
I didn’t have a type and found all sorts of men attractive; short, tall, dad-bods, gym rats. Slender bodies, thick and muscled ones, and even some pudgy guys had all been hot to me. So I knew it didn’t matter what he looked like in real life.
In my fantasy, Dr. Vale flipped me around to where my chest touched the desk, and he pushed down on the middle of my back as he came up behind me. His large cock brushed across my entrance, and I groaned deep in my throat. And then he shoved inside me, rocking into me so hard the desk moved a little.
My hand picked up pace on my dick as I imagined him gripping my hips and drilling into me, hitting my spot so fucking good. I whimpered at the thought and reached around to my backside, slipping a finger in my ass as I continued jerking myself. I came in a quick release, shooting my load into the stream of water.
“Shit,” I muttered, pressing my forehead to the shower wall.
My body gave a final shudder before I opened my eyes and finished my shower. Tristen had left already, and the dorm was quiet as I walked to my room.
On uniform day, we had to wear our Navy-issued khakis, so I pulled the outfit from the closet and started piecing it together. I buckled the belt and bent to tie my freshly shined shoes before placing the hat on my head.
Once I was dressed, I looked in the mirror and felt a swell of emotion at my reflection. The uniform wasn’t flashy or anything, but I’d never felt more proud than when I put it on. When I was a kid, I dreamed of serving in the military. As a teen, that dream had only grown.
And here I am now.
I still had a ways to go, but I was turning my dream into reality.
I grabbed my backpack, making sure I had all my textbooks tucked inside, and left. People nodded to me as I passed them on the sidewalk. Girls paid me more attention than usual. Not that their attention meant anything.
When I stepped inside the lecture hall for thermodynamics, I was glad to see I was actually a little early. A vast difference from the last class period. The first two rows were close to being filled already, so I took a seat in the third row.
“Good morning, private,” the guy beside me said, flashing a cheesy as hell grin.
“I’m not a private.”
Though I had the urge to roll my eyes at his mistake, I didn’t. I had to remind myself that not everyone knew the ins-and-outs of the program, our titles, and everything else that went with it. C
ommissioned officers—like what I was training to be—were separate from enlisted Marines. Enlisted men and women were the backbone of the Corps and worked their way up from the rank of private. Commissioned officers were college graduates who earned their rank and were then assigned to a platoon.
“Cadet?” he tried again.
“Midshipman,” I answered.
“Well, that’s a mouthful.”
Whatever I intended to say in response flew from my head because Dr. Vale entered the room.
The shorter section of his blond hair swooped near his eyes, touching the top of his glasses on one side. He wore a white button-up shirt, rolled to three-quarter sleeves, and a gray vest was pulled over it. His build was tall and a bit lanky, but his wide-set shoulders and faintly rounded biceps gave him a hint of muscle definition.
“Good morning,” Dr. Vale greeted, using a finger to push his glasses up his nose. “Class doesn’t start for another ten minutes, but feel free to sign the attendance sheet before it does.”
People stood and formed a line at his desk after he pulled the sheet from a folder. The guy who spoke to me minutes before was in front of me in the line, and after he signed his name, he approached the professor and began blabbing. I couldn’t hear everything that was said, but I got fragments of it.
“Your work on—” I didn’t catch his next few words “—and I’m honored to be in your class. If you ever need a teaching assistant, I’m your guy. You don’t even have to pay me. Just being in your presence is payment enough.”
Kiss-ass.
Wait.
Damn. I hope that’s not what I sounded like when I gushed to him.
As I signed the sheet, I checked above mine and saw the brownnoser’s name was Brandon. I stepped out of line so the person behind me could sign the paper and walked slowly to my desk, totally eavesdropping on their conversation.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Dr. Vale responded, his face void of emotion. “But that won’t be necessary. I tend to work alone. I hope you understand.”
“Oh! I understand completely!” Brandon nodded fast, like a damn bobble-head sitting on the dashboard of an old truck pushing eighty on the interstate. “Let me know if anything changes. The offer still stands.”
Brighter Shades of Light Page 4
