by L. A. Witt
“I didn’t think Senior could yell,” Dalton marveled.
Jackson chuckled. “Push him far enough or step on the right nerves, and you better believe he can.”
We all stared back toward the office for a moment.
Then Jackson turned to us, and he was completely serious. “Curtis and I will look into this. I can’t promise we’ll resolve everything overnight, but this just became my top priority.”
My throat constricted. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” He looked at each of us in turn. “You two did the right thing. I’d say you should’ve come to me or Senior a long time ago, but I know how it is. I get it. But we’ll take care of this.” He glanced back at his office, then motioned for us to come with him. We followed him to another office, and I realized it was Curtis’s. Or, well, it had been. Senior Chief Reyes was sitting behind the desk now, scowling at her computer.
“Hey, Senior?” Jackson said. “You mind if I steal your office for a couple of minutes?”
Reyes glanced at us, then at him, then at her screen. Finally, she shrugged and picked up her cover. “Sure. I could use some coffee anyway.”
After she’d gone, Jackson waved us in, but he didn’t follow. “You guys take a minute to decompress, all right? Catch your breath, and once Curtis is done with Lasby, we’ll come talk to you.”
“Thank you, Chief.”
He gave us a slight nod and a smile, then shut the door behind us.
As soon as we were alone, Dalton sank into a chair, cradling his head in his hands.
“Headache?” I asked.
“No. Just . . . kind of dizzy.” He blew out a long breath. “God, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t let—”
“Dalton.” I leaned against the desk and put a hand between his shoulders. “Don’t apologize.”
He didn’t speak and he didn’t look up. His muscles were so tense under his camouflage blouse, they damn near vibrated. I hadn’t realized until now how nervous—downright terrified—he must have been walking into Chief Jackson’s office. This could have blown up in his face in so many different ways, but he’d done it. He’d . . . Jesus, he’d fucking done it. I was so proud of him that I could feel it swelling in my chest even as guilt burned in my gut for putting him in that position. I should have done something. It should’ve been me, not him. I’d been too much of a coward, but he’d done it, and here we were.
“What you did took some brass balls.” I kneaded the back of his neck. “Nobody wants to be the guy who jumps the chain of command and rats out a supervisor, but sometimes you have to. I’m just sorry I didn’t do it first.”
Dalton lifted his gaze. He searched my eyes, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he released his breath. “I just wish there was a different way. But I freaked out. I mean, my career is up in the air right now. If I don’t make MA1 next time up, I’m done.” Dalton slipped his fingers between mine. “But when Lasby took you away from me, that was too far. Too much.”
I nodded. “I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t . . .” I sighed, shoulders slumping. “I should’ve fought harder. I love you, Dalton. I love you, and I want to make this work, whatever we’ve got to do, even if we end up on opposite shifts. It might suck, but we’ll make it work.”
He nodded, smiling up at me. “I know we will.” As he rose, he added, “And I love you too.”
The relief that he was here and we were back on the same page—shit, it was almost enough to break me down. But I didn’t want to cry. I just wanted him.
So, without a word, I cupped his face and kissed him, and Dalton sighed as he wrapped his arms around me. God. We were here. We’d made it back to each other. The command was taking us seriously. Lasby was getting his ass handed to him by a pissed-off senior chief. And Dalton. I had Dalton back. Fuck, I thought I might just cry anyway.
Dalton broke the kiss, buried his face in my neck, and we just held on to each other for the longest time. I had no idea if all this shit was really over or if Lasby might find some slimy-ass way to turn this back on us, but I had hope that I hadn’t had in a while. I had Dalton in my arms. No way in hell was I letting him go again.
After a while, someone knocked, and we separated.
The door opened, and Senior Chief Curtis stepped in with Jackson on his heels. Curtis’s cheeks were flushed, and a hint of sweat gleamed at his hairline. I’d never seen the man so pissed off, and he had obviously come down a few notches before coming in here. It was a wonder he hadn’t ruptured a blood vessel or something.
He took a breath as his eyes flicked back and forth between us. “All right, I’ve got a call in to the team investigating the incident on the water. There’s a good chance all of you—including Anderson and Rhodes—are going to be questioned about it again, this time by a new investigator who hasn’t had any contact with Chief Lasby.”
Dalton exhaled, leaning hard against Reyes’s desk like he couldn’t even hold himself up anymore.
“I’m sorry you’ll have to go through it all again,” Curtis said.
“No, it’s not that.” Dalton ran a hand through his hair like it took all the energy he had left. “Just . . . relieved, I guess.”
At that, Curtis smiled. “I can imagine. And I’d oversee it all personally, but I’m PCSing in a couple of weeks.” He nodded toward Chief Jackson. “Between him and Senior Chief Reyes, though, you’ll be in good hands.”
“Anything you guys need,” Jackson said, “my office is always open. We will make sure this is a fair and unbiased investigation.”
“Thank you, Chief,” we both said.
“We’re also going to have the awards packages reviewed.” Curtis’s lips pulled tight, and I thought the angry flush in his cheeks deepened. “There is no justification whatsoever to downgrade MA3 Rhodes’s medal.”
“Good,” Dalton said. “She’ll be happy to hear that. Don’t know if it’ll be enough to get her to re-up, but . . .”
Jackson frowned. “She’s not reenlisting?”
Curtis made an unhappy noise. “If I’d jumped into the ocean to save a shipmate, and my command tried to hem me up over losing a fucking rifle, I wouldn’t re-up either. They’d be lucky if I finished out my contract.”
“Good point,” Jackson muttered. “I’ll talk to her. She needs to know the command has her back. If she doesn’t want to stay in, she doesn’t want to stay in, but . . . I’ll talk to her.”
I relaxed a little. Rhodes definitely deserved better than the raw deal she’d gotten lately, and I was relieved that Jackson and Curtis thought she was justified. Hopefully one of them could talk her into staying in. The Navy was better off for having her.
Dalton and I looked at each other, and we both released long breaths. I didn’t think I’d ever felt this relieved. This vindicated.
“Anyway,” Curtis said. “We’ll let you boys get to work. Don’t worry about Lasby—he’s going to be riding a desk in this building where Jackson and I can keep an eye on him.”
I laughed. “Bet he’s happy about that.”
“Nope.” Curtis grinned. Then he shook hands with each of us. “I’ll leave you both with my personal email before I fly out. Anytime you need help or just some input, don’t hesitate to hit me up.”
“Thank you, Senior,” Dalton said.
“And good luck at your new duty station,” I said.
He smiled. “Thanks. I’ve been dying to go to Okinawa since I first enlisted. Can’t wait.”
“Oh, you’ll love it.” I grinned. “My parents were stationed there when I was in junior high. It’s amazing.”
“Yeah?” His eyes lit up. “Definitely make sure I give you my email, then. You might know some places my husband and I should check out.”
I nodded. “I’ll do that, Senior.”
We shook hands with Jackson, then left the office and headed for the parking lot. On the way down the hall, Dalton laced his fingers between mine. My heart sped up. Technically, we weren’t supposed to do this in uniform, but hopefully the
powers that be would indulge us this one time.
Outside, we tugged on our covers. Then I took his hand again, and we continued toward our cars. When we reached his car, we stopped, but neither of us let go this time.
I took a breath. “Listen, I’m sorry I ever thought breaking up was a solution. If it helps, I’ve been miserable as fuck ever since.”
Dalton grimaced, shaking his head. “I didn’t want you to be miserable. I just wanted you back.”
“Me too.” I freed my hand and wrapped my arm around his waist, not caring who saw. “And you know I never would have even thought about splitting up if—”
He kissed me, his hand on the back of my head like he thought I might pull away and keep talking. Not a chance. I held him close and let that kiss go on until he was damn good and ready to break it.
When he did, he looked into my eyes and smiled. “We’re cool, Chris. You don’t have to keep apologizing.” He touched my face. “Lasby’s getting what he deserves, and I’ve got you. That’s all I care about.”
I exhaled and pulled him a little closer. “Yeah. Me too.” I kissed him softly. “I love you, D.”
“I love you too.”
“We should get out of here.”
“Yeah, I know.” His lips curved into a grin against mine. “We will.”
“Will we?”
“Uh-huh. Eventually.”
And then he kissed me for real.
And for the first time in what seemed like forever, everything in my world was right again.
By the time our shift was over, Chris and I were dead on our feet. Between dealing with the chiefs and our regular long, grueling hours, we were lucky to make it far enough into his apartment to face-plant on his bed. We managed to get rid of our boots and get our phones and keys out of our pockets, and Chris stripped off his blouse, but then we just collapsed, still in uniform, on top of his comforter.
I woke up hours later, feeling more rested than I’d been in a long time. I’d had some pretty shitty anxiety dreams, but those hadn’t started until an hour or two ago. For the most part, I’d slept hard. Maybe too long, actually, because my whole body was stiff and sore.
Chris was, as usual, on his stomach with his arm hanging off the bed. I cuddled up against him.
“Hey you,” he murmured. “Sleep okay?”
“Better than I have in a while. You?”
“Same.”
“I’m gonna grab a shower.” I kissed the back of his neck. “Then we can go find some coffee.”
“Junkie,” he muttered.
I laughed, kissed him again, and got up. Holy fuck, yeah—I was sore. My joints cracked and my muscles argued. Good thing I hadn’t decided to take care of that other morning stiffness. That could wait until the rest of me could actually move.
I’d been in the shower all of thirty seconds, though, when the curtain moved back.
Chris’s broad, warm body pressed against mine. “You didn’t really think you’d get to be all wet and naked in here by yourself, did you?”
Whatever comment I might’ve had vanished off the tip of my tongue when Chris pulled me back against his thickening erection, and all I managed was “Unnnhhh . . .”
He kissed the side of my neck, lips curling into that grin that always made me crazy. “If I’d been less tired, I’d have fucked you six ways from Sunday last night.”
“Stupid work.” I rubbed my ass against his cock. “No time like the present, right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
My body was still sore, but between the hot water and the hot man, everything was relaxing in a hurry. Too tired for sex? Maybe. Too tired for sex in the shower? Oh hell no.
“God, I want you,” he growled in my ear.
I moaned in agreement, rubbing harder against him to egg him on.
Chris picked up the bottle of lube we’d started leaving in the shower, and the click of the top made my knees shake. The slick sound of his hand on his dick sent a shiver of anticipation through me, and when he pushed a couple of slippery fingers into my hole . . .
“Now, baby,” I pleaded. “Please.”
“I love it when you get all needy,” he murmured, still fingering me.
“Always needy when you’ve got me naked.”
He laughed against my skin. “Good. ’Cause I like having you naked too.”
“I know you do. Now hurry up and fuck me, damn it.”
I thought he might tease some more, but he kissed my neck as he slid his fingers free. Then he guided himself to me. He slid the lubed head up and down in my crack a few times, just enough to drive me insane, and then he pressed against my hole. I closed my eyes, exhaling through parted lips as I pushed back against him, and when his dick slid into me, my knees almost gave.
It hadn’t even been that long since we’d fucked, but it felt like the first time all over again. Or like it had been years since we’d even touched.
God, I missed you.
He worked himself deeper. I rocked with him, swearing and groaning as his thick cock slid in and out. He wrapped an arm around me, keeping us close together, and I braced against the wall and let my head fall back on his shoulder. He kissed up and down my neck as he started to move faster inside me.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my skin. “You’re so . . .” He trailed off into the most delicious moan. I whimpered softly. My dick desperately needed some attention, so I pumped it, and we both cursed as I involuntarily clenched around him. He thrust harder. I stroked faster. Between us, we found a perfect rhythm. It was a little clumsy since we were in the shower and trying not to fall on our asses, but damn, it felt good. Not just because he hit every spot perfectly, not just because he knew exactly how I loved to be fucked, but because he was here. It didn’t matter that we hadn’t split up for very long; it had seemed like forever because the man I loved—my best friend—had been gone.
And now he wasn’t. He was here. Touching me. Holding me. Inside me.
I closed my eyes as Chris pushed me right to the edge.
“Oh God,” he murmured against my neck. “God, I love you, baby . . .”
And with that, I was coming. Crying out and shooting my load and trying like hell to keep moving the way I knew he liked it, and then he swore again and pulled my hips back against him, burying his dick as deep as I could take it. Harsh huffs of breath rushed past my neck as his cock pulsed and his hips jerked, and suddenly we were both still.
Panting hard, Chris pressed a kiss to my neck, then pulled out. He carefully turned us around so the warm water was falling over me, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me. His mouth tasted like Scope just like mine did; I swore that minty alcohol taste would always remind me of morning sex with Chris.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” he said after a while.
“Me too.” I slid my hands up his sides and brushed my lips across his. “The Navy can take a lot of things from me, but it’s not getting you.”
Chris hugged me tight. “No, it’s not. And I’m sorry for—”
“Don’t,” I whispered. “I know. It wasn’t your fault.” Drawing back a little, I said, “The Navy’s still going to be a thing, though. This bullshit is done, but . . . I mean, I’ll still get kicked out if I don’t make MA1 next time around.” I lifted my eyebrows. “What do we do then?”
“Don’t know.” Chris held me closer to him and kissed my forehead. “We’ll deal with that when it gets here. Even if we both stay in, there’s gonna come a time when one of us gets orders out of Anchor Point.”
My stomach dropped. I hadn’t even thought about that. “Shit . . .”
“We’ll be okay. If we gotta spend some time apart, we can. And there’s . . . I mean, depending on what we want to do when that time comes, there’s ways we can get the Navy to keep us together.”
I blinked, not sure I was hearing what he meant to say. “You mean . . . like . . . getting married?”
Chris half shrugged, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “Well, if we don’t
want the Navy separating us . . .”
“Is that the only reason you think we’d ever get married?”
“Of course not.” He gave my leg a playful nudge with his knee. “Don’t ask dumb questions. You know damn well that’s not the only reason.”
I laughed, holding him closer. “I would hope not.” I kissed him lightly. “So, I guess we’ll deal with that when it comes too.”
He nodded. “Exactly. No need to make a decision right this second.” He ran a hand through my wet hair. “Right now, I just want to enjoy having you back.”
“Hear, hear,” I said, and I pulled him in for a longer kiss.
Maybe we’d get married someday. Maybe we wouldn’t.
Maybe the Navy would keep me. Maybe it wouldn’t.
But one way or the other, I knew Chris and I were going to make this thing work.
With Chief Lasby off his back, Dalton pretty much did a one-eighty. He slept better. He talked about going back on the water like it was a foregone conclusion instead of a nightmare. There were still flashbacks and he was still nervous about getting on a boat, but it was like Lasby’s bullshit had been pressing on a nerve and making all that worse.
Two months and three psych evals after Jackson and Curtis had stepped in, Dalton and I were drinking coffee in my apartment when he said, “I think I want to get back behind the helm.” He took a deep breath. “Like . . . today.”
I stared at him. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He set his coffee cup on the counter and squared his shoulders. “Even if it’s just for one watch. Just to . . . well, test the water, I guess.”
I couldn’t help smiling. I put my cup next to his and wrapped my arms around him. “You sure?”
Dalton nodded. “The shrink says if I’m ready, there’s no reason not to. I can’t go back to being a coxswain until the next psych eval in February, but I can keep my quals up and get my sea legs back. You know, get my confidence back.”