SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance

by Juliana Conners

  This thought might sound judgmental but I think it with love, because both Madilyn and Ruby rock. But what the ever-loving fuck has gotten into younger girls around my age?

  Sure, Madilyn is twenty-five and has a law degree— but that’s still much closer to my age than her fiancé Asher, who is old enough to be her father. And Ruby is close to me in age— she’s twenty years old.

  Are there no more young knights in shining armor? They’re all old and rich?

  I wouldn’t know. I’m not involved with any of that craziness. My only love affair is with books.

  People think I’m just a pothead, but I’m a deep-thinking pothead. My only boyfriends are long-dead authors— such as William Faulkner, whose books I’ve read and re-read too many times to count.

  If you've read one William Faulkner novel, though, you've read them all. They're all the same Southern dysfunctional family bullshit. But I'm drawn to them like moths to a flame even though they're just as dangerous for me.

  Most people read to escape, preferably to some perfect fantasy world, but for some reason I’m compelled to read books that are close to my own reality. Every day I tell myself "No more depressing novels. Try something light! Or at least throw some kinky Nabokov in with your Flannery O'Conner."

  But then most days I pick up the same old tomes full of darkness and sadness, even though they remind me of how bleak and depressing my own life really is, which only makes things worse.

  I can’t forget boring. My own life is really fucking boring. And my job is boring. It feels utterly inconsequential. Or as if I’m inconsequential to anything that goes on in the office.

  I’m so inconsequential that I'm sitting in my car reading The Sound and the Fury and smoking a bowl and no one will even notice I’m gone. I'm sure there are people who judge me for smoking pot. In fact, that's why I'm out here in my car instead of in the file room where I used to smoke it, before the Powers That Be— namely, Asher and Cameron— found my vape pen and assumed it was Ruby’s.

  I guess I can see why they assumed that. With the dyed streaks in her hair and her alternative way of dressing, Ruby looks like the type who would smoke weed. That's part of why I love her. But really, she's as straight laced as they come— or at least she is now.

  The last thing I wanted to do was get Ruby into any trouble. I had to fess up to the vape pen being my dirty little not-so-secret (if anyone besides secretaries— or, in Ruby's case, bosses getting head from secretaries— came into the file room once in a while they'd happen to know what goes on in there).

  I thought I'd get fired and I was prepared for that possibility. It probably wouldn't have been the worst thing that could happen. Maybe it would spur me on to find a better, more stimulating job— since mine is so boring and all.

  It's not that I don't want more responsibility. It's just that no one thinks to give it to me.

  The partner I work for, Jameson “Jim” Reed, is in court all the time and doesn't let me come with him because he has a paralegal assigned to the case. Paralegals can bill time for their hours spent working on litigation whereas lowly secretaries— we're technically called legal assistants nowadays— cannot.

  A lot of legal assistants are assigned to more than one partner but Jim is such a big wig— I jokingly call him a diva— that he demands exclusivity. And since he’s one of the three named partners that helped start the firm— along with Asher and Cameron— I suppose he’s entitled to make demands. Even if it means I have nothing to do all day.

  When I told Ron that it was my vape pen and not Ruby’s, I didn’t get fired. In fact, it saved Ruby’s job and Ruby and Ron’s relationship. Since it wasn’t Ruby’s vape pen, she could come back to the firm. And since I have a medical card, Ron really didn’t know what to do with me, so he did nothing.

  I think Ron felt so grateful to me for that that he would have promoted me to office manager. But he was still a little worried about what he viewed as my pot problem.

  I explained to him that medical marijuana helps me with my anxiety and ADHD. I also told him I wouldn’t sue him for his violation of my HIPAA rights by asking about my disability and my medications.

  So, he said he doesn’t care as long as I don’t smoke it in the office. Now I take my breaks in my car.

  First I have to walk by all the secretaries standing outside smoking their cigarettes, which are a lot more dangerous than my vape pen, even if Ron and the other partners don’t see it that way yet. They just haven’t caught up with the times. One day they’ll realize they should be vaping too. Everyone should be, if you ask me.

  As I’m staring at the secretaries who are gathered just outside the door of the main entrance to our building, wondering if I should go give them my advice about switching from tobacco to marijuana— although I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate my little tip— someone catches my eye. How could he not?

  This guy is hot. So hot that he makes me wet just by looking at him. I want to find out where he’s going and how I can go there too.

  Chapter 2 – Katie

  The guy entering the building is the proverbial tall, kind of dark and handsome figure that one reads about in books or watches on TV. He really could be a movie star, if he were assigned to the role of a serious-looking yet handsome banker or lawyer.

  He carries himself— as he walks through the doors of the building— with charm and grace. He has dark blonde hair, tan skin that looks like he spends a lot of time outside, and a fit, muscular body type. I’m sure he catches every woman’s eye.

  In fact, all the smoking secretaries turn their heads away from their cigarettes and stop their chatter to look at him. Then they turn back towards each other with widened eyes and begin chatting again, undoubtedly about him.

  I allow a momentary fantasy to slip into my thoughts, drowning out the depressing thoughts lingering there from Faulkner’s book.

  What if this handsome man is headed to the law firm where I work? He’s wearing a business suit and looks like he’s on official business.

  What if I could get in on this older man, younger woman trend that seems to be affecting my office like the plague?

  If Ruby thinks it’s hot, maybe it is. And Madilyn is a smart, ambitious lawyer who hooked up with her boss and got a huge diamond ring out of the deal.

  I don’t want to get married, though. Marriage is for suckers. I don’t even believe in commitment.

  Even though everyone thinks I’m some kind of badass, I’ve never even had sex. Most of the time I don’t even want to. From what I’ve seen, sex just leads to dangerous things.

  But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about sex. I have a very overactive imagination. And right now, I’m thinking of the guy who just walked into the building ripping off my clothes and spreading my legs open.

  He might have to whisper sweet dirty nothings into my ear to get me to let him see what’s between my legs. He might have to pick me up and wrap my legs around him and push himself into me.

  Fuck.

  I look at the clock on my dashboard. I can’t get this distracted right now.

  My break is over. I have to go back to my boring job even though I have nothing else to do for the 45 minutes I have to work— I get off at 5:30— until I can come back out to my car and go home.

  I throw my vape pen into the consul and turn my car off before getting out. As I walk by the smoking secretaries, I nod at them and smile, but they barely seem to notice my existence. They’re still talking about the mystery man— not that I can blame them.

  “I heard he’s worth way more money than Asher or Ron even knew,” one of them is to saying to the other.

  “Ruby found out he’s worth a fortune,” the second one says back to the first one.

  My heart skips a beat.

  So, he is coming to our office. And Ruby knows who he is. I might see him again. He might see me.

  As I step through the glass doors and into the building with a large mirror on the wall, I glance down at the outfit I
haphazardly threw together this morning before rushing out the door: a turquoise, red and orange blouse with a black skirt. I certainly don’t look very professional— but my job’s not important enough to where that’s expected of me.

  I try to suck in my stomach. I’m normally not very self conscious but I’m not normally about to— hopefully— run into a rich, handsome man I’ve just fantasized about making love to me.

  That little development kind of changes things a bit. As I look down I see my breasts heaving with the extra breaths I’m taking thanks to my excitement.

  At least the benefit of being a bigger girl is having big boobs. I’m sure he’ll notice those right away, in addition to my witty and fun personality, of course.

  I shake my head, reminding myself that I probably won’t even see him. But I want to. I want to do a lot more than see him. I want to let him do to me what the partners here at the firm do to my co-workers.

  There really must be something contagious around here. I never thought I’d want an older, much more experienced man to take my virginity. But now, as I head up the elevator to the partners’ floor and hope that I see this mystery man waiting for me when I get out, it’s all I seem to want.

  Chapter 3 – Damien

  It’s the first time I’ve been to the law firm of Isaacs, Sanchez and Reed but I stroll into Ron Sanchez’s office like I fucking own the place. I was planning to knock, but his door is open, so I just walk right in.

  “Damien,” Ron says, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie.

  There’s a young woman sitting in the chair opposite his desk and she jumps as I come in. I nod at her. She’s attractive but what catches my attention the most is the fact that she has purple streaks of dye in her hair.

  Kids these days.

  “How did you know which office is mine?” Ron asks me.

  “There’s a receptionist,” I tell him, and he smirks at my sarcastic comment.

  “That’s true.”

  The relationship between businessmen such as myself and our lawyers has always amused me. We both need each other but at the same time we both resent needing each other.

  Without Ron Sanchez, I wouldn’t be able to get quality legal representation. Without me, he wouldn’t be able to keep the office’s lights on.

  But Ron wants me to pay as much as possible for his legal services while I want to pay as little as possible, so long as the representation is still good. It’s a delicate balance to strike.

  I sit down in the chair beside the legal assistant, whom I can only assume Ron is fucking. I’ve heard that the guys at this firm pull a lot of tail.

  I do too, but I never shit where I eat. I’m smarter than that. And my proclivities make it so that I can’t hook up with just any girl.

  She must understand the non-committed nature of any such “relationship” we enter. She must also be able to withstand a certain amount of pain mixed in with all the pleasure.

  “I appreciate all you are doing for me on this project,” I tell Ron, cutting to the chase because I have places to go and women to do.

  My phone is probably ringing off the hook right now with women wanting my dick. But I have it on silent for the purposes of this meeting.

  “Did you want to go down to Manny’s and have a drink?” Ron asks, referencing the ritzy bar on the first floor of the building where the firm’s office is located. He stands up. “It’s happy hour. Ruby, can you finish up the filing work while we’re gone?”

  “No thank you,” I tell him.

  I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t do drugs. I don’t fuck women I work with.

  I didn’t get to be the billionaire CEO of several different companies by lacking discipline. I’m stronger than any of these other guys, both physically and mentally. I don’t need crutches such as booze or pills to get me through my day.

  Plus, I don’t want to have beers and chit chat with Ron. That would only give him an opportunity to try to schmooze me and charge me more money for whatever arrangement we end up agreeing upon.

  I like to keep things short, sweet and to the point. My time is money— especially when lawyers bill by the hour. Sure, I doubt he’d charge me to go have a drink with him— he’d probably even pick up the tab on his firm’s credit card— but I don’t like to get into the habit of having long conversations with my lawyer. The only place that can lead to is to higher legal bills in the future.

  “Okay, well,” he says, sitting back down. “We can stay here then.”

  Yes. We can.

  “As I was saying,” I continue, finally. “I appreciate the fact that you’ve taken on my humble case. This little toy company of mine is very near and dear to my heart—”

  “Shall we cut through all this bullshit?” someone interrupts, not even bothering himself with pleasantries before barging into the office with even more bravado than I did just a few minutes ago.

  I turn around to face the legend.

  “Asher Isaacs,” I say, standing up from my chair to shake his hand. “I’m Damien Hudson.”

  Behind him is yet another young lady— Asher is probably banging his secretary as well. Asher started this firm and his aura clearly announces that he thinks he can do what he wants around here. Sure, he had the help of Cameron Sanchez and Jameson Reed when he founded it but he’s the big moneymaker.

  I came to Ron to work on my case because he’s a nice guy and I know he’ll be sympathetic to my plight. I’ve heard that Asher is a good man underneath the tough exterior but I also know he’d try to gouge me for all the money I own— which is a whole hell of a lot— when it comes to attorneys’ fees for this case or any others I might have.

  “I know who you are,” Asher says, nodding. “And I know you know who I am. This is an associate at our firm, and my fiancé, Madilyn St. Clair, and she has been helping on your case.”

  How very fucking presumptuous of him, I think, but then I realize what he just said about his associate Madilyn.

  “Your fiancé?” I ask, quizzically.

  “Yes, in addition to being an associate here at the firm, Madilyn is also my fiancé

  This must be a joke, I think. But no one appears to be laughing. I look around wondering if there’s some hidden candid camera. Asher looks very fucking serious. In fact, he looks very proud.

  I look at Ron, trying hard not to let my mouth hang open in surprise.

  I know that in law firms it’s relatively common place to have a secret or even open affair with one’s secretary or underling. But proposing marriage to them is pretty damn rare. This isn’t the Mad Men era when you had to protect a young woman’s reputation and marry her if you slept with her.

  Ron is looking back at me with a face nearly as earnest and proud as Asher’s.

  “Don’t tell me—” I begin, looking at the young woman sitting in the chair beside me and then back to Ron “—you two are engaged to be married as well?”

  “Not yet,” Ron says.

  Asher laughs as if he thinks my surprise is funny.

  “Ruby is also Ron’s legal assistant, and a damn good one at that,” Asher says. “Now let’s get down to business.”

  “I’m only here to meet with—” I begin.

  “—Ron,” Asher finishes my sentence for me. “You came to meet with Ron about the costs to continue your legal representation. I know that, but we’re a package deal. And we want to let you know our hourly rate and increased retainer amount requirements up front, so that there are no surprises going forward.”

  “Now look,” I protest. “I’ve told you. This is a humble company. I make toys for children with disabilities.”

  “Well, as you know, Ruby here found out otherwise,” Asher says, pointing at the legal assistant sitting next to me.

  “I’m sorry— Ruby?” I ask, not able to believe my ears. A secretary knows more about my company than they do?

  I see Ruby and Madilyn exchange a look that comes close to an outright wink. Fuck. Women these days. They really do ru
n the fucking world.

  “Yes,” Ruby says. “I’m the one that found out that your main company holds a lot of subsidiary entities. I know your net worth. You’re not just a small toy making company. You have a lot of other business ventures as well.”

  I still can’t believe they found all of this out about me. I go to great lengths to make my business dealings and financial holdings private. And now I’m really flabbergasted to know that this broad is the one who did the snooping.

  “Let’s just say you’re right about that,” I tell her. “Without agreeing to it…”

  “You’re starting to sound like a lawyer yourself,” Ron says, with a smug smile. “But go on. Let’s just say that.”

  “I only need the firm’s help on this one issue,” I continue. “It really does involve the toy company. And the toy company is my smallest venture by far. A labor of love really.”

  The four of them exchange glances, as if distrusting me. What the hell kind of firm have I hired? One where everyone couples up and then gangs up on new clients, apparently.

  “Nice appeal to our emotions but our rate is $500 an hour,” Asher says, so quickly that I do a double take. “We were helping you pro bono for a while to earn your trust and because you keep insisting your toy company is nothing big. But the free ride is up and so are our rates. That’s our going price. It’s the amount all our other clients pay and you have more money than most of them. So, take it or leave it.”

  “Ron—” I say, hoping that the more rational partner will have some sense and see the light.

  But he just shrugs.

  “I wish I could help you out, Damien,” he says, with a shrug. “But our rate is our rate. I know you came to us for a reason. You want the very best legal representation that there is. And we provide that for you.”

  Damn. Ron has grown some balls since I first met him while playing golf with him at the country club. That’s when I initially let him know I needed his legal help, and he was a lot more mild-mannered.