HOSTILE: A Military Romance Novel (Military Men Book 1) (2 page)

     ҉     ҉     ҉     ҉     ҉     ҉

If I thought the holding cell they’d kept us in was bad, the vehicle they were using to transport us was even worse. The ten of us now, all crammed into the back of a military truck with more guns than seats.

The men had kindly given me the seat in the middle. They probably thought they were surrounding me with their protective barriers. All I could think of was the BO being wafted my way.

The soldier next to me hadn’t looked at me since we got in the truck. He was gripping his gun so tightly his knuckles were white. I doubted that was a good thing. For the first time since I had been captured, I was actually worried about my safety.

Because he wasn’t looking at me I could openly stare at him. He was way better looking than the boring desert planes outside. His jaw was chiseled into a hard, masculine line that he was clenching tightly. He had beard stubble, making him look ruggedly sexy.

And those eyes. Killer blue and intently focused on whatever it was that wasn’t my face. He’d set me in his glare when he first picked us up, and it was all I could do not to look away. He could captivate with those baby blues.

Under all that armor and uniform I bet there were plenty of peaks and planes of nothing but hard muscle. He could probably bench-press the weight of the truck if he wanted to. He was a killing machine, trained for war and as deadly as the weapon in his hands.

In other words, the complete opposite of the guys I was normally attracted to. I was a journalist. If I wasn’t out in the field, I was in the office, spending time with spindly writers who spoke about adventures they went on in their heads, not in the real world.

This guy, I bet he went on plenty of adventures. He was probably the caveman type, throwing a woman over his shoulder when he wanted one. Grunting was probably the best kind of conversation he offered.

But, man, was he hot. H-O-T, hot.

Sleeping around in these parts of the world got a woman killed. I’d been in the Middle East for a few months, so my legs had been well and firmly closed for business. But I wasn’t interested in the caveman type, not even if he was hotter than the bloody truck.

Not that he was looking at me anyway. Maybe he went for the male type and he found the members of the other gender in our transport more interesting than me. It wouldn’t have surprised me. The hottest ones always were always taken or gay.

We drove forever and ever. At least, it seemed that way, anyway. It was probably only a couple of hours before we pulled into a building just before dusk and stopped. I assumed it was the checkpoint the original grunt kept telling us about.

“Stay here,” the solider next to me said before getting out. It was literally the only thing he had said to me for the entire journey.

Jerk.

We all had to stay like good little puppies while the soldiers did their thing. The truck pulled into a small yard surrounded by high fences – made higher again by razor wire. Even the security measures didn’t make me feel any safer.

“Follow me and stay together,” one of the guys said as he ducked his head back into the truck. We all shuffled after him.

When I reached the edge, the silent jerk extended his hand out for me to take. I ignored him, jumping down onto the ground without his help. My landing made a puff of red dust billow out underneath my feet.

We walked as a group through a tunnel made out of bricks and sandbags. Two of the soldiers were at the front and two flanked us at the rear. They were clearly paranoid, which was making me uneasy. It wasn’t like I’d felt safe since I’d arrived in Afghanistan, but this was worse. Every little noise made me jump, every nerve in my body on high alert.

The tunnel opened up into an Army barracks where we stopped. The silent jerk turned to address us all; he seemed to be the leader of the group. “We will be staying here until we have clearance to move on. The men will be going with Private Marshall. The little lady is with me.”

Everyone split off like it was a done deal and there was a memo that had circulated earlier with instructions. Meanwhile, I just stood there, dumbfounded.

“My name is Ariana. You don’t have to refer to me as
little lady
,” I said. “How long will we be here?”

“For as long as it takes.”

“Which will be?”

He shrugged, as if that was enough of an explanation. Not only was this guy a jerk, but he was also an infuriating asshole. If this was considered our nation’s finest, our country was doomed.

He started walked off without saying anything else. He got all the way to the next door before he turned back. “Are you coming or what?”

“Are you going to answer any of my questions?” I called back.

“No.”

“Then what’s the point?”

He shrugged again. I had a nice daydream of cutting off his arms and using them to beat him with. “Stay there, then. But I’m going to have something to eat.”

The next thing I knew, he disappeared into the darkness of the doorway. My options were severely limited, being none. I had to run to catch up with him, just as my stomach started growling.

The jerk was waiting for me just around the corner, like we were playing some stupid game of cat and mouse. His lips were quirked up into an infuriating grin when he saw me catching my breath. My dignity was left somewhere in the desert.

We walked in silence again, but I couldn’t take it. I was a journalist. I got information by conversing with people. Silence never got me anywhere. “So your uniform says Watson. I take it you’re Private Watson?”

“
Corporal
Watson.”

“Does that make you the boss?”

He smirked again. It was kind of sexy but still not enough to endear him to me. “You could say that. In my platoon, anyway. I have plenty of bosses above me.”

“Where are we?” Considering he was all chatty, I was determined to get some answers.

“Base twelve.”

“And that is?”

“Classified.” He enjoyed saying that word way too much. It was probably a federal offense or something to slap a soldier, right? “You sure ask a lot of questions for a tourist.”

“I’m not a tourist. You really think I was in Kabul taking selfies and working on my tan?” I let out a chuckle, because really, the thought was insane. He gave me a sideways look, like he really did think I was a tourist. “Oh my god. I’m a journalist. I was working with local people and telling their stories.”

“And now you need rescuing.”

“I knew the dangers I was getting into. I never asked the American government to rescue me. When they learned I was in Kabul, they insisted on taking me into their custody.”

“It’s for your own good. Only the insane go into a war zone voluntarily.”

“You did,” I replied.

“Like I said.” His grin was back. For the slightest of moments, it didn’t annoy the hell out of me. He was actually making a joke and it was kind of funny.

Maybe we were both as crazy as each other.

We reached the cafeteria, or
mess hall
, I guessed. A few weary soldiers were wandering around, and some were eating. The guys that had brought us in were there. They had somehow beaten us and were already sitting down eating.

Watson took me over to the counter and pulled down two trays, handing me one. We filled them quickly and then joined the others at the table. Considering the long journey, everyone was pretty upbeat.

“Get lost, brother?” Private Marshall said, nodding toward Watson. They seemed to know each other very well. They all looked to be about the same age, except for Private Simon, who appeared to be a bit younger. He was also the quietest of the bunch.

Watson didn’t reply, just raised his eyebrows and then dug into his meal. He seemed like a man of few words with everyone, not just with me. I guessed that was somewhat good to know.

The soldier with the name Rafter embroidered on his uniform nudged me playfully in my side. “It’s not often we get any female civilians on the barracks. I think you’ve made Watson all shy.”

Everyone looked at him as a light blush started to creep up his cheeks. I’d have thought a soldier would have had a thicker skin than that. I’m sure he’d heard worse ribbing in the locker room.

“Well, you can consider me one of the boys if that makes it easier,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to put anyone out during my short stay here.” I really hoped it would be short, anyway.

“I’m sure you’re not going to put Watson out. I’m sure he’s very pleased to see you here,” Marshall added. They looked at each other, each one trying to contain laughter. They were sharing an inside joke, one that I could only guess was about a woman.

I was tired, grumpy, and not interested in listening to their banter any longer. The moment I was finished with the meal, I stood. “Is there a place I can wait until we leave? Somewhere I can plug in my laptop?”

They all exchanged another glance. I was getting pretty tired of being the odd one out of the loop. Whatever memo I’d missed must have been important.

They left Watson to deliver the news. “We’re going to be here for a few days. I’ll show you to your bunk in a minute.”

“A
few days
? Are you kidding me?” My voice took on the qualities of a yapping terrier.

Watson stood. “Yeah, a few days. Is there somewhere else you need to be? Are we interrupting your terribly important life by trying to save it?”

Every inch of him was standing rigid, challenging me to challenge him. The entire table had grown so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. They were all staring at us, breaths held as they waited for the next move.

I wanted to tell Corporal Watson what I really thought about him, tell him what I thought about his attitude and his policies but this wasn’t the place or the time. I was angry mainly at the situation, and he was the embodiment of that. To take him down now in front of everyone wouldn’t bode well for me. I was in the middle of the desert with no other way of getting home.

Now was the time to keep my big mouth shut.

“Please show me to my bunk,” I finally replied, even managing to keep my voice level.

It was like the room breathed a collective sigh of relief as everyone resumed their eating and conversations. Watson started walking, not bothering to see if I was following or keeping up with him.

     ҉     ҉     ҉     ҉     ҉     ҉

Fucking hell, the woman was sent to challenge every inch of my self-control. First off I had to spend the entire journey staring out the window and focusing on the desert so I didn’t see her bloody tits jiggling with every bump the truck went over.

Then there was the way her leg brushed up against mine with every movement the truck made. Every time we went around a corner she practically fell into my lap and hit my dick. What I wouldn’t have given for seat belts in the fucking truck on that journey.

All I wanted was a good meal so I could at least focus on something other than my raging cock. One meal was all I asked for, and she had to go and ruin that too.

The moment she challenged me in the mess hall was the moment I nearly lost it. In my head I pictured jumping over the table and ripping her clothes off. I would have fucked her right on the floor, shoving my cock into her so hard she would have screamed for more.

Then I would have flipped her over a table and pressed my hands onto her back, holding her down and taking her from behind. I wanted to see my pulsing dick slide into her, pumping her while it was wet with her juices and hearing her panting,
pleading
for more.

Her ass. I bet she had a fine ass, big enough to grip and bounce with every thrust. I wanted to hold those cheeks with both hands, squeeze them and pull her closer against me.

Just thinking about her was making my dick rock hard. My pants were getting tighter, uncomfortably so. And I still needed to make it across base and show her to her bunk. Walking was an issue with the fucking tent in my pants.

I acted like a gentleman, forcing her to lead the way. If she noticed I was walking funny, she didn’t let on. If I had my way,
she
would be the one walking funny. For days. Weeks, even.

Every single thought in my head kept coming back to the one thought. If I didn’t fuck that woman, I was going to explode. There was no way any other cohesive thought was going to have a chance in the meantime. I was useless while in this perpetual state of horniness.

The female bunks in the base were only half-full. There were plenty of female members of the armed forces, but not many in this unit. Ariana – and, god, even her name was sexy – was going to have plenty of privacy while we waited for clearance to continue on with our mission.

She was the lucky one. If I had this kind of privacy, my dick would be getting a serious work out every morning and night. It would be a wank fest until we moved out. I would develop new muscles on my right arm that I never knew I had.

“This is your assigned bunk,” I said, pointing to the lower level from the doorway. If I angled my body right I could just hide my boner. “Power socket’s on the wall. Knock yourself out.”

I turned to leave while I still could. The thoughts in my head were all kinds of X-rated while there was a bed in view. Ariana called me back before I could get anywhere. “What about a shower?”

A shower, now there was a good idea. Get her all soaped up, pin her against the wall, fuck the hell out of her wet, slippery body—

“Hello? Anybody home? I said
where is the bathroom
?” She had to click her fingers a few times to get my attention.

That was a prime example of why I never stayed the night with women. If I wasn’t fucking them, they annoyed the hell out of me.

“It’s down the hall. There’s a big sign and an arrow. I’m sure you can figure it out. Or do you need me to draw you a map?”

“Funny. Thanks for nothing.”

“Breakfast is at six tomorrow. Be there or starve,” I said as my parting words. She seemed insulted by the early morning, but I ignored her.

She was going to be
really
pissed when she discovered there was also a second breakfast at seven. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she worked it out.

I was being a dick, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was always really grumpy when I was going through a dry spell, and now I was literally in the desert. Four months was more than a dry spell. My cock was at risk of shriveling up and falling off, I was sure.

It swung between my legs like a beacon, continually reminding me that I needed some action. Every step away from the woman reminded me that I was walking away from a pussy and some possible action. I was desperate, but not that desperate. That bitch was insane.

I tracked down my buddies, trying to get my head back in the game. All the civilians had been shown to their bunks, leaving only us. At least we could speak freely now. Unfortunately, the conversation was still on Ariana.

Tank, aka Private Simon, was all over the topic. “Man, she was hot. Like a mirage in the desert, hot. I wanted to tap that like there was no tomorrow. How come I never get assigned to look after the women?”

I smacked him over the back of the head as I sat down. “You can have her, dude. She’s nothing but trouble. Thinks she’s staying in a hotel. She was disappointed when there was no mint left on her pillow.”

“Wanted you to turn down her sheets, did she?” Marshall teased, wriggling his eyebrows.

“Ladies can’t resist the DW,” I said, flexing my muscles. “You know they can only hold out for so long before they throw themselves at me.”

“Man, I didn’t see her throwing herself at you earlier. I think if she had a gun, she would have shot you.”

I waved his comment off. “Some women like it rough, nothing wrong with that.” They jeered for a bit longer, teasing me back and forth.

It didn’t matter what they thought or said. Ariana was the last woman I wanted to fuck, even if my dick thought differently. Plus, she was a journalist. The moment I rolled out of bed she would be reporting back all kinds of inappropriate sexual conduct in the military. I didn’t need that kind of bitch-crazy drama.

It was that kind of shit that got men kicked out of the military and all their pension and honors lost. I wasn’t going to risk all that over a dick that wouldn’t stay in my pants.

Which was what I was still trying to tell myself later on when it was late and everyone else had all gone to bed. I was lying in my bunk, staring up at the ceiling and trying to get rid of all the naked women dancing in my head.

Tits were bouncing, lips were wrapped around my cock, breathy moans were whispering in my ears, and my hands could practically feel the silky folds of cunts. Lots of juicy cunts.

My dick was as hard as a rock.

There were seven other men sharing the room with me. All sleeping in the bunks surrounding mine. The moment I started any kind of movement, the fucking springs in my cheap-ass bunk would squeak to all hell. One noise and there would be at least one person who would hear me.

It would only take one to call me out on it in the morning. The kind of release I needed meant I wasn’t going to be quiet about it either. Jerking off silently wasn’t going to be an option.

I couldn’t stay in the bunk any longer. My cock was painfully swollen, and ignoring it wasn’t going to be an option tonight. I could think of a million unsexy images and not one of them would take any of the blood away from my dick.

Climbing down from the top bunk, it squeaked and squawked just as I predicted. One of the guys snored and turned over just as I passed him. I hurried out the door as fast as I could, my cock leading the way like a compass point.

I passed a few men in the corridor, weary looking as they returned from a mission. You could always tell the ones coming off a shift from those just starting one. Apart from the cover of dust coating their skin, they wore the war in their eyes. The pain and burden was there, never far from their thoughts.

The men’s bathroom was also at the end of a large arrow pointing the way. Thankfully, it was empty when I got there. I went into a stall and stripped off my clothes, hanging them on the single hook.

The water was little more than lukewarm, and that was as hot as it was going to get. It didn’t matter for my purpose. The colder the better, really. I stood under it front first, the water splashing against my engorged cock as it throbbed for someone to touch it.

My hand gripped around the base before it started to slowly slide up and down the shaft. It had been so long since I’d masturbated that I involuntarily shuddered with relief.

The water in the shower would only run for two minutes before turning off automatically, so I had to be quick. Somehow, I didn’t think that was going to be a problem. It had been so long since I’d had any kind of sexual action that longevity would not be a skill I’d possess on this occasion.

Without giving her permission, Ariana entered my mind. Her fiery eyes when she had challenged me over the table in the cafeteria stared at me. They had blazed with the same heat that I could imagine she possessed in the bedroom.

I bet she was a screamer.

When she came, my money was on she let everyone in earshot know about it. Her hands would grip the headboard, her breathy yelps would shatter the silence around her.

My hand fastened, pumped back and forth along my cock as it grew harder and longer. I was always proud of my big dick, happy to show it to anyone who challenged my claim. Right now, all I wanted it to do was explode so it could get back to its normal size and remain sated for a while longer.

I closed my eyes and imagined it was Ariana’s mouth that was causing all the good feelings in my dick right now. It was her tongue running its length, her hands pulling on my balls and rolling them between her fingers.

I’d pay to see her on her knees. She had such a haughty attitude, thought she was such a big shot reporter, and wanted to be in charge so badly. To see her on her knees with my cock in her mouth, that would be a sight worth seeing.

My body bucked back and forth, my dick slipping between my fingers as I fought to hold on just a little bit longer. I was enjoying the visions in my head, enjoying the sexy thoughts of the reporter. The moment I came, I wouldn’t be able to have them any longer or I would have the boner again.

One of my hands had to leave my balls as I braced against the wall. I clenched my teeth together as my muscles tensed so I didn’t wake everyone up and give myself away.

Four months was a fucking long time.

My legs were shaking as the climax lingered on the brink. My hand went into overdrive, just pumping over the head of my cock until I couldn’t take it any longer. My body was racked with the orgasm, cum spurting from the tip of my dick and mingling with the water as it swirled down the drain.

The water turned off, leaving me dripping and panting. The flow had been doing something to cover the sounds of my puffing but now it was just me and the otherwise silence in the empty room. I prayed nobody else decided they need to take a shower or a shit.

My dick was still spurting with the last of my cum as my body shuddered with the last bursts of the climax. I braced against the wall, letting out a long sigh. Masturbating was never as good as fucking a woman, but it was a necessary second.

The release had sent a barrel of endorphins coursing through my bloods, allowing me a moment of calmness I hadn’t had for a long while. For just those few minutes it felt like everything was still. I’d been working up to that moment for four months and I’d only just taken off the tip of the iceberg. For now, it would have to do.

I had to clean up in the sink with paper towels and little more than a drip from the faucet. Luckily, nobody else joined me and I was able to slip back into my bunk without anyone noticing I was gone.

Thank fucking goodness for small mercies.