The Grunt (11 page)
“Brett!” she screamed. “Yes! Yes! Oh God! Yes!”
As he coiled back, he kissed her shoulder and destroyed every thought that she had ever had about a Marine. Speechless and breathless, she took all of him until she began to burn with desire. The sound of his body slapping against hers began to drive her mad. Hot and tingling, she felt her arms weaken. Sounds of sexual pleasure filled the room. A feminine whimper preceded male dominating moans.
“I’ve wanted you so bad,” he whispered into her ear as he pumped harder. “And now that I have you…I’m never going to let you go.”
Thrusting into her, he watched her as she began to submit fully. Her arch back began to flatten in her back; her moans turned to cries until she finally realized she was no match for him. He seemed to tear through her without tiring, his force undeniable, his strength unforgiveable.
“That’s it,” he taunted. “Come for me.”
His words destroyed her. She had never imagined he was such an animal. If she weren’t already coming, she would have just then.
Brett finally let her arms go, but only to grab her by her long hair. Without inflicting any pain, he took her long hair and fisted it. Pulling her head back to see her beautiful face, he kissed her bruised, open mouth as he felt her sex clench around him, pulse hard and then climax suddenly. Her eyes told on her as they averted to the ceiling and then rolled back in her head.
The Lieutenant Colonel’s daughter had arrived.
He smirked as he sucked at her bottom lip.
Holding her around her waist, Brett pumped inside of her as she sat on her knees, tears running down her face, silky liquid running down her legs, sweat running down her body. Brown breasts bobbed against the gravity that pulled her down every time his thrusts sent her up in the air.
Familiar sensations started to assail his tense body. His large palm rested at her lower back and pushed her down into the bed. Her face landed on the soft, goose-down pillow. As he let go of her hair, it fell over her shoulders, over her face.
On top of her, holding her waist as tightly as he could with one hand and his other hand on her slender shoulder, pumping into her body with devastating blows, he finally allowed himself to freely release.
The surge of power and hot seed paralyzed him as it shot from his penis into the safety of the condom. Picking her up by the waist as he came, he held her broken body in his hands. His masculine, virile growl echoed throughout the room, claiming her as he did so.
The mere sound of him made her come again. One last time. This time harder. A final cry escaped her. Never in her life had she been so thoroughly explored.
Collapsing under him, Courtney felt as though her body had been shattered. She turned and rolled over onto her back, disoriented and dazed.
Brett was still on his knees with one hand against the headboard, the other on his hip. His face was like stone. His breaths calmed quickly. After all, the storm had passed.
Looking up at him in amazement, she heard the alarm go off. It startled her. Lifting up on her elbows, she moved her tousled hair from her face. 4:00 a.m. on dot.
“Time for work,” she said hoarsely. It hurt to swallow. She did so slowly.
Brett bent down and sucked her pebbles nipples one last time and kissed her lips again, grateful that she had shared her body with him.
She kissed him back passionately, pushing her exposed breasts against his chest. Her sensitive nipples were still rigid as they grazed him. He reached down and grabbed them in his hands and squeezed them tightly.
It had been too long since he had enjoyed sex this much, and she still looked absolutely amazing, even though her hair was now wild and her body sweating and wet.
His hands roamed her body, feeling the slickness in between her thighs that had pooled on the mattress below them.
There was no way in hell he was leaving this bedroom without getting his share. Reaching over to hit the alarm, he opened her legs again. “I’ve got a few more minutes,” he said with another condom in his hand.
Courtney was speechless but ready. “God Bless the Marine Corps,” she said, biting her lip.
It had only been a few weeks, but Brett Black felt like a new man. There was no more Amy and no more worry. Just work and play. He could barely get home in the evenings. He could barely leave for work in the morning. Even Cameron seemed to be doing better.
As the alarm went off for a new day to begin, Brett reached his free hand over and hit the dial, then returned to Courtney’s warm embrace.
She rustled awake under him, running her hands over his bare chest as she stretched out.
“Baby, get up,” she said, rolling over.
Brett grabbed her quickly. Running a hand over her naked backside, he pulled her to him. “I don’t want to get up. It’s too fucking early,” he groaned into her ear. “Let’s just lay here for a minute.”
Courtney smiled. “You were almost late a few days ago. No, you have to get up,” she said, trying to pull away from him. It was hard for her too. Her heart ached every time that he left the house. And while she spent her days busy with studying, online classes and taking care of Cameron in the afternoons, she could barely wait for the end of the day.
Brett was getting ready for a few days out in the field and the thought annoyed him, but he tried to keep it pushed in the back of his mind. He didn’t know how he would deal with being away from his family that long.
His family.
Now, that was a comforting thought. For the first time in his life, outside of the Marine Corps, he felt like he belonged to something special.
“Get up,” Courtney said again.
“Alright,” Brett finally said yawning. Pulling himself from the bed, he stood up naked and stretched. He watched her loving gaze travel the length of him. Instantly, he got hard. He bent to her and kissed her forehead.
“You got ten minutes?” he asked, putting his hand on her hip.
“Five,” she said, looking at the clock.
“Seven,” he bargained as he crawled in between her legs.
“Okay, ten,” she said as she felt him enter her.
Ten glorious minutes.
***
At five o’clock on the dot, before the sun could rise, Captain David Lawless stepped out of his oriental blue 325i BMW in his perfect desert uniform and cover and looked around his new home.
Camp Lejeune. The place grunts came to become great after a short stint at the SOI, preceded by Parris Island. No matter whether you were a woman or a man it was balls to the wall here. You either grew some or shipped out.
He loved the smell of the thousands of pine trees, the heat that evaporated any coolness in the air, the sound of Marines training even when the black flag hung as a warning on the pole, the sight of morning runs that went for miles in the rain, shine, sleet or snow. Hell, USPS got their motto from them, because Recon
always
delivered. Nothing about this place was soft. There were no flowers planted, no picnics by the beach. There was only training, and he was ready to get some.
As he stepped into the company office a solid six feet three, two hundred and fourteen pounds of hardcore grunt, his father was waiting with a proud smile.
David dropped his bags and saluted his father out of sincere respect, even though one did not normally salute inside a building.
This was a proud moment for the Lawless men. David had been subjected for years to rough, unrelenting training because of his last name and his father’s reputation. His mentors and superiors alike had been tough on him both in the classroom and the field, put him through more than the others, and made him work hard to earn the rank of Captain. In short, he had gone through hell to arrive at his father’s footsteps.
“Captain David Lawless reporting for duty, sir,” he said with a stone face and deep, brooding baritone. Not a stitch was out of place on the coffee-colored Marine. His hair cut was perfect; his uniform was perfect; his stance was perfect, and his reputation was flawless.
“At ease, Captain,” Lieutenant Colonel Lawless said as he watched his son move to parade rest. “You look…good,” he noted, looking his boy over. “Hope Pendleton didn’t make you soft though.”
“No, sir,” David answered. “There is no room for soft in the two-five, sir.”
“Are you ready to serve the men of Bravo Company, oversee their training, lead them to battle, stand by them, die if necessary to accomplish any mission that Marine Corps via the Second Reconnaissance Battalion hands down to you?” the colonel asked sternly. His neck stuck out as he spoke, and he rose up on is tiptoes to tower over his son.
“Yes, sir,” David answered with conviction. Unflinching, he stared straight forward.
“Good. Just because you are my
seed
doesn’t mean that you’ll receive any slack. In fact, nepotism is not looked upon favorably, so you can just about imagine that I want things to be so close to perfect the only person who would know it’s not perfect is Jesus Christ himself. I expect the best from you at all times. I expect you to be honest, fair and just with each of these men. I expect you to put them first and your own needs last. I expect the best. There is no room for anything less in Recon.”
“Yes, sir.”
The colonel tried not to crack a smile. His raspy voice lightened. “I also expect you to meet your mother and me for dinner tonight at seven. She hasn’t seen your face yet and is about to drive me to Four Alpha of the naval hospital.”
David smiled. “I’ll be there at 6:45, sir,” he answered with his chest stuck out.
“Good. Well, carry on, Captain. I’ll have my eye on you,” the colonel said as he left him in the care of his new company. “Semper Fi.”
“Semper Fi,” David answered.
***
Brett pulled up to the battalion office and parked his car. Wolfing down the last of his protein bar, he jumped out and headed inside, slipping on his cover before he entered. As he crossed the threshold of the office, he got a funny feeling in his gut. Throwing his wrapper in the garbage can, he looked around suspiciously and stopped at the company First Sergeant’s desk.
“What’s up, First Sergeant?” he asked, looking at the company commander’s closed door. “Has the new guy arrived, yet?” The conversation lingered on informal but still could pass the grade.
“He’s in there,” First Sergeant said, sipping on his coffee. He never bothered to look up from his cell phone. Moving his thumb slowly, he chuckled and returned a text.
“Who is it?” Brett asked, trying to pull the man’s attention from his phone.
“David Lawless. Colonel Lawless’s
clone
. Looks just like him. Speaks just like him. Probably thinks just like him. But I think he’s going to be alright. He seems to know his shit. Might be a little
moto
at first though.”
Moto
was the grunts’ way of identifying people who were excessively motivated about their jobs, and it was no compliment.
“So, he’s not a boot?” Brett asked.
“Nope. Like I said, he knows his shit, Staff Sergeant.” First Sergeant turned his back to Brett and started to text his wife again. If he had not been preoccupied, he would have surely seen Brett go pale.
What kind of shit storm was he headed into now?
He had managed to stay under the radar so far, but with another one of Courtney’s family members so close, he was bound to be found out sooner or later. Courtney had told him that she hadn’t told her father his last name or the unit that he belonged to, but the entire situation still made him uneasy. Plus, now that they were in a serious relationship, sleeping together
every single night
and living together in his house, when her family did find out, they would swear that was his primary intention anyway.
The company commander’s door swung open and Lawless stepped out with a clipboard in his hand and scowl on his face. “Morning, Staff Sergeant Black,” Lawless said, reading Brett’s name tape.
Brett turned towards him and sized him up. “Morning, sir.”
Captain Lawless walked up to him and did the same. He had read Black’s file. He was an impeccable Marine and up for promotion soon, if he played his cards right, considering he was already a
Gunny-select
. He was an excellent marksman, a great man in the field, a decorated OEF and OIF vet and seemed to be made of the right kind of stuff to lead his unit. Evidently, the Staff Sergeant had lost some Marines in his last tour but had managed to save several by calling in an airstrike during an ambush up in the hills of Afghanistan. He also had read that Black was one of the Marines who had recently lost his wife in that incredible plane crash and was taking care of a child by himself. He found that commendable.
“Muster for accountability at 5:45 before PT,” Lawless said to the First Sergeant as he looked down at his watch.
“Yes, sir,” First Sergeant said, finally putting away his cell. He stood up behind his desk, looked over at Brett and walked away. Like he said, the guy was
moto.
***
After a long day at the base with the new company officer, Brett could barely make it to the truck. Throwing his gear in the back as the heat beat down on him, he jumped up in the truck, slammed the door and headed out. Removing his cover, he didn’t even have to look to know that he had that horrible tan around the rim again. Blasting the air, he turned on his radio, hit song 3 on his Kung-Foo Fighters CD and floored it out of Camp Lejeune.
Taking a detour to a local Jacksonville bar that he often frequented, he met Joe for a quick drink. It had been a while and when Joe saw him actually walk inside, he raised his beer and laughed.
“I didn’t think you would make it,” Joe said, passing him a beer.