by Tina Maurine
“Oh my God. Kill me now,” Sammie muttered as she stood up. “Hey, when you guys get done, bring the shots over. I’m joining in on the game they’re racking before you two make me puke.”
I rolled my eyes at her and playfully raised my leg to kick her, which she side-stepped.
“Nice try, hoss…”
I watched her mosey over to the table. She seemed to be getting along with all of them. I didn’t mean to stare, but Dane was working the bar, as it had started to get busier, and I was curious which one was Sammie’s type. To look a little less obvious, I took inventory of the entire bar, not just table three.
I had noticed our squad-mates at table one when we’d arrived, but they must have left, since I no longer saw them around. The group who had taken their place looked like they were the HOO-RAH type—you know, bulging muscles, high-and-tight haircuts, tattoo sleeves up their arms… Marines maybe… or base security.
I wonder if one without the tattoo sleeve was that HAWK who watched me earlier. They obviously came here a lot, as they acted like they owned the bar.
At a nearby high-top round table, two women tryied to get their attention by tossing their hair and and conspicuously thrusting out their chests. They weren't fooling anyone. The guys, clearly not interested, mocked the women's attempts by gesturing towards them with their heads, and then laughing while tossing their imaginary locks, thrusting out their muscular chests and provocatively rolling their manly shoulders. Their display ended in in riotous laughter.
If it hadn’t been so blatantly pathetic, I would’ve felt sorry for the way the guys were acting towards the women.
I turned my attention back to my table, but try as I might, I couldn’t catch a conversation wave to surf in on.
Hmmm… not much going on here.
I returned my attention to the bar, when the hulks at table one drew my focus again. Right then, one of them looked over at me and then nudged the tall guy beside him. The tall one leaned over while looking at me and said something to the one who had noticed me. They threw a couple of elbow jabs at each other before continuing their game.
Okay, so is that the same guy or isn’t it? What in the fuck is going on at this damn base? Is everyone fucking crazy? I had to wonder, because if it wasn’t the same guy, then that made two sets of weird security dudes scoping me out.
Turning my back on them, I continued my inventory of the bar. When we’d arrived at the Privateer, we’d taken over pool table two. There were six of us, but only four were playing. The other two were at a high-top table shooting the shit, drinking their beers and adding to the overall ruckus of the bar. Every so often, I could hear one of them chime into the conversation on the pool table. Shouted insults and jests resounded above the loud music.
Table three had five guys. Two looked like they were civilians or Icelandic military, perhaps. Maybe they’re Dane’s friends? The others looked older, probably DoD. I took a good look at who had garnered Sammie’s interest, and sure enough, saw her flirting with the tall, lanky, dark-haired Icelander.
Lastly, at table four, two couples passed the cues back and forth. I really hadn’t paid them any mind, but now, from idle curiosity, I gave them a cursory glance. One couple consisted of a petite Japanese gal and tall blonde guy; the other, an attractive pair of brunettes. All four of them looked like they had climbed out of an Abercrombie ad.
“’What are ‘ye lookin’ at?”
My attention immediately refocused on Dane. He had poured another round of shots for Sammie’s table and had flagged them over. The two guys that looked like they might be his friends grabbed them.
“So, what’s their story?” I asked him once they’d moved out of earshot.
“What do ‘ye mean?” He looked totally preoccupied and disinterested in my question—and me now—for whatever it was worth.
“Those guys. Who are they?”
“Triggvi and Kettil. ‘Em two are flat-mates of mine.” He leaned on his elbows to get closer to me, so I leaned toward to him. “’Em two are nothing but lots of trouble.”
Oh. My. Word. That accent!
Dane smelled so incredibly spicy, so incredibly yummy, I could munch on his neck. His lips. M. Mm. Mmm.
The hour flew by visiting and flirting with Dane. Around midnight, his co-worker showed up, clad in a too-tight tank, despite the cold. Wolf whistles greeted her arrival. The instant she stepped behind the bar, the hoo-rah boys crowded around, ogling her cleavage and demanding beers. She smirked and complied, pocketing tips right and left.
“I guarantee her shift will be lucrative for the bar,” I muttered.
Then, recalling I was not alone, I looked up at Dane’s eyes, surprised to see that him looking intently at me. “‘Ey have a meal break now.”
I smiled and nodded, wondering how long he had.
He sauntered over to his co-worker. They spoke briefly, and I could see him gesturing towards me. I lifted my hand in a kind of half-wave, when I realized she was giving him shit for something… probably having to do with me.
Seriously?! It’s over sixty degrees below freezing, and you’re dressed like you’re at Hooters in Miami. Tart. Like you have room to talk about me, I mentally chided her.
Dane came around from behind the bar, interrupting my incredulous thoughts, and walked up to the jukebox, where he pushed a few buttons. I heard the record drop, and Ginuwine’s “Pony” started playing just as Dane reached me.
“Komdu.” He gestured to me. I rose to my feet, noticing I stood right at shoulder-height to him. As I looked up at him, his intent eyes smoldered, holding promises not yet whispered to me. He took my wrists and pulled both of my arms up around his neck as he slid his hands down my ribcages and rested them…
NO.
Rested them isn’t quite right. He rooted them squarely on my lower back, pulling me intimately to him.
I’d noticed his clothes earlier, but I hadn’t really noticed how sexy he looked. His cobalt-blue V-neck t-shirt, tucked into the front of his dark wash jeans, revealed a wide leather belt he wore slightly off-center. The buckle drew my attention to right above where his man-V would start if I could see him naked. My imagination did quite the job picturing the taut lines of his firm muscles that I’d caught a glimpse of as they rippled under his tee.
He pulled me onto his thigh, as though I were riding him like a pony, and we stood there grinding, swaying, moving as one while we dirty danced right there at the bar. I cannot tell you what was going on anywhere else in that bar, because Dane had assaulted my senses. I could only feel him. His hands hugged me to him tightly as he wrapped his right arm around my back and palmed my ribs. His other hand at my hip moved me in time and rhythm to him. It was erotic, sensual, and his fragrance—spice, musk and more Dane-spice—entranced me. I couldn’t do anything but hang on for dear life until our dance ended.
It took seconds after the music ended for us to quit swaying and pull our bodies apart. My insides still pulsed, and it took me a few breaths to slow my racing heart. Once the lusty fog lifted, the sounds of hoots, hollers and a couple of whoots filled my ears. I had cleared my head, but had to shake it to get Dane out of all my senses.
Oh my God, he moves better than he sounds.
“We definitely have to do that again,” he whispered huskily in my ear. His lips grazed my ear and sent shivers down my spine.
No shit, but with our clothes off.
At last, I brought my gaze up to look into the most lust-filled blue eyes I remember ever having looked into sober… well, semi-sober anyways. As he looked into mine, he brought his lips down to my forehead for the slightest brush of a kiss.
“‘Ey get off work at one?” Though the words didn’t form a question, one lingered in his eyes and voice.
Mmm… his voice… off work at one… hmmm.
Possibilities flooded my head, “We will be at the base club. You and your friends shooting pool with Sam should join us.”
I backed up just an inch. I had to get out
of Dane’s magnetic range and put some distance between our bodies. What am I thinking? Day one here, slow down; remember—sleeping with someone might be fun, but someone intense like Dane, well, that’s NOT what I’m looking for right now… and there’s Sage too.
Was it what I was looking for?
No dummy, you’re just horny and missing caresses from a strong, virile man.
“Holy shit, Tessa! What was that? You guys were fucking with your clothes on!” Sammie stood before me, looking confused. Her raunchy comments fell flat from her lips.
“Thanks for the update,” I shrugged off her comedic sarcasm with embarrassed nonchalance.
“What? Like that wasn’t what you were doing?”
“Sam, I have no idea what that was. You know we just met. I haven’t danced even close to that hot since…,” my thoughts took me back to that erotic night with Ignacio in San Juan more than a year ago.
“Since?”
“Never mind. Who’s your new friend?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Oh no. You don’t get off that easy. You haven’t danced a hot dance since… when?”
I sighed, “I had a really short-lived, very intense thing with a friend of mine in Puerto Rico. We had an amazingly—and I’m talking soul-shattering, bodies becoming one with each other sexy Latin music kind of erotically hot dance—like I was literally wet afterward.”
“No shit. Wow. Was it that virgin guy?”
I laughed, “No. Not that Wes couldn’t have moved like that… but Ignacio was all kinds of sexy hot.” My memory flashed back to the multileveled club, the strobe lights and the memory of that night. I flushed.
“Hello? Earth to Tessa—you day dreaming about your Columbian or Icelander?”
“He was Argentinean.”
“Yeah, okay… whatever,” Sammie shrugged with total indifference.
“So, your turn.” I smiled and winked at her. “Who’s your new friend?”
“Which one?” she asked with a laugh. “Trigg is really arrogant; Ketts is kind of like the guy next door. So, what’s the story with that bartender… what’s his name?”
“Dane.”
“Yeah, so you are planning on fucking him?” She chortled. “I mean with your clothes off next time?” Sammie laughed really good at that one.
Damn, I thought I had gotten her to drop it already.
”Who knows, ya know?” I left it at that but turned to see Dane. He had vanished, probably to take the last of his break. I just want to see his eyes, I whined internally. Maybe to get a better idea of what that dance had meant to him… if anything.
“Hey, the guys from the shop are talking about skipping the base club and heading back to the barracks. They’re wimping out, saying we have work tomorrow and squadron muster is at 0800 sharp.” She sat down next to me on the same stool, “…but Trigg and Ketts invited us back to their place—and before you say no—Dane’s their roommate, and they live on the other side of the base gate.”
“They don’t live on base?”
What to do, what to do? That is the question that I kept repeating to myself as I tried to find more reasons to not go. That is other than the obvious ones:
I'm on a new base.
I’d be leaving base with strangers and going to their place.
I have work in a few hours.
Nope, I couldn’t find any good reason other than I might get so overwrought, so taken with passion that I might enjoy myself in Dane’s bed tonight. “I’ll make you a deal. Get me the phone number to the VP duty office, and I’ll go with you,” I said with a mischievous grin.
“Oooh, I like!” She glided off. “Do you have a base phone book?” she asked the busty bartender.
I walked over to Sage and pulled him out of earshot from the other guys, “I hate to ask this of you, since we barely know each other…”
Sage placed his hand on my lower back. “What did you have in mind?” he asked with the same earnestness he’d shown me at the barracks. I looked up at him to see if his expression matched what he was saying… and, well, it did.
Deal with your conscience later. Just ask him.
“Ok, so tomorrow is All Hands Squadron Muster at 0800, and well… Sam and I were hoping to get out of it. This is where the favor comes in. We…”
“Oh no you don’t! Don’t bring me into this,” Sammie butted in. “I was only talking about going off base tonight, not skipping muster.” She gave me a snort as she handed off the base directory.
“Okay then, I was hoping that you could call the duty office and say that you just left our room and we were really sick, or we called you and are stuck off base, or something?”
“I don’t know Tess, it’s ALL HANDS. That pretty much means everyone.” He rubbed my lower back.
Okay, you’re rubbing me… that’s kind of weird… wonder what you think I am going to owe you after this? At that thought, I changed my mind, because owing someone a favor right out of the gates was NOT a good thing. “You know what, Sage? Never mind.”
“I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t do it, Tessa. It’ll just be hard to come up with a valid excuse. Trust me, the officer on duty and mustering officers have pretty much heard every excuse in the book.
Just then, Dane Trigg and Ketts walked up.
“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. Really. Never. Mind,” I said it with a smile on my lips, but my timbre left no room for argument. I could tell Dane was sizing up Sage, especially since he still had his hand on my lower back. I made a move to slip out of his embrace, but he wrapped his hand on my hip, further preventing me from moving.
He leaned over. “I’ve been on this deployment more than once. Those three are not new to this scene. They look at it as fresh meat every six months. Be careful and watch out for yourself.” With that, he gave me a little squeeze, let me go and rallied the boys we came with. Without further adieu, they pushed into the frigid Arctic winds.
Gone in fewer than sixty seconds.
Sammie sidled over next to me. I noticed Dane and his friends hovering around the security ‘hoorah’ guys. Chatting up the regulars, I thought. Sound business strategy. Feeling eyes on me, I noticed the tall one checking me out again. His intensity is a little creepy… but flattering, too.
“You and Sage? What was that about?” Sammie interrupted my study of the intense, tall guy.
“I’ll tell you later.” I squeezed her hand.
“Boy, you sure have a long list to catch me up on.”
“What’s ‘ye verdict? ‘Ye ladies comin’ over?”
Just shoot me now. I will NEVER get tired of that accent! “You know, Dane, we really wanted to—tried to make it happen, but we have Squadron All Hands on Deck tomorrow for deployment muster. They’re requiring us to be there to go over a couple of things.”
“Makes lots of sense, it does. How about if ‘ye two come over to my friend’s flat? Have a few beers? It’s on base.”
Sammie pulled me close and dug at my ribs with her elbow, then whispered to me, “He says we can stay on base and go over to his friend’s house.”
“Thanks, kemosabe, for the on-point translation,” I whispered back, scowling playfully at Sammie.
She looked back at me in wide-eyed innocence and sidled over to her Icelandic entourage—Trigg and Ketts. “Let’s get this party started!” Navigating her way to the door, she locked her elbows into the crooks of her men’s arms. As they grabbed both my jacket and hers, they said something in Icelandic and laughed. I’m sure it was a slam about how ridiculous those dumb coats looked. They headed into the back room through the door behind the bar, in the direction of the rear parking lot. Must be where someone keeps a car.
I watched Dane as he talked to ‘Too-Tight Tank’ by the register. There was undeniable chemistry between them. She kissed him on both cheeks before she handed him a set of keys and said, “Ciao, Dane,” and tossed me a haughty smirk.
Whoa! She sure doesn’t sound Icelandic.
Dane approac
hed and placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the stock room. We met up with the others, put on our jackets, pushed through the heavy metal door and leaned into a blast of glacial air that cut across our faces.
I was wrong. No car waited to offer us a reprieve. We walked about two blocks, bent over into the wind to keep from blowing away. Reaching a quad-set of dormitories, we pushed our way into the Plexiglas entrance as Dane got the keys to the inner door out of his pocket.
“Dane, man—hurry up! My balls are ready to shrivel up and fall off; it’s so fucking cold out here!”
Holy Fuck?! Who said that?
I turned to see Sammie snuggled into Trigg, the tall Icelandic specimen Sammie had said was arrogant.
I guess her tastes are like mine; tall, dark, handsome and arrogant. Trigg? How can he sound American?
“Don’t make us come over there and show you how to unlock the door, dude!” Ketts elbowed Dane in good natured fun. He let out a hearty laugh at all the shit he and Trigg were giving Dane.
“So, Ketts, how is it that you guys look like Dane, but sound like one of my former classmates at Wazzu?” I asked the question delicately, giving my manner a playful lilt so he wouldn’t get offended.
Ketts smiled knowingly as if he'd answered this question before. “Ahh, dear, sweet, naïve Tess.”
This arrogant shit doesn’t know me if he thinks I’m naïve. Maybe a little colloquial in my thinking, but naïve I most certainly am not. I sighed, a sigh that mourned the loss of who I once was before life shat on my parade.
I waited to hear what other tidbits of wisdom Ketts intended to bestow upon me as Dane unlocked that girl’s studio apartment. As I stripped off my FWJ, I gave the studio a quick appraisal and found it very college-esque: a full-sized bed and wardrobe, a pull-out couch and TV, and a small kitchen-like area with a hot-plate, microwave, and bar-height round table with two stools. It was tastefully decorated, but so devoid of any personality that it was reminiscent of a mid-range motel in the states. By the time I tuned back into what Ketts and Trigg had been saying, I had no idea what they’d been talking about.