by Casey Elliot
"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, looking down at her body.
But she couldn't stop the thoughts; his hard body pressed against hers and the way his strong fingers would be running all over her body. More than anything, she wanted to feel his hardness between her hands as she stroked him. She'd be slow and gentle at first, but as he would reach the brink of orgasm, she'd pump her hand up and down faster, then faster until he'd climax all over her, his face twisted in ecstasy.
Marie couldn't control herself as she thought of him, and she pushed her fingers inside her, hitting her g-spot. It made her contract around her hand and she bit her lip as the extreme wave of pleasure washed over her.
"Aargh." She began to shudder as she rubbed her thumb up and down her clitoris. "Oh my God!" she screamed loudly, as an orgasm came to her rapidly.
A few seconds later, she climaxed hard and quivered with a torrent of wetness gushing through her fingers. Her thighs were trembling and her face flushed with heat. Catching her breath, she turned the shower to cold and tried to shock herself from her fantasies. She flinched as the icy water hit her back, and finally, she felt relieved from her constant and filthy day dreaming.
"Fuck," she sighed, leaning against the wall, "I need to get my act together."
Grabbing a towel, she dried herself off and slipped into her nightgown before wandering into her home office and sitting at her desk with a glass of wine. She sipped it slowly as she flicked through the pages of David's file. He was an excellent sharpshooter. In fact, he was so renowned and talented that he had almost risen to mythical ranks with his incredible skills. How, then, had his friends been ambushed so easily and died with him protecting them? And there was something else that troubled her. As she read, she soon discovered one startling outcome. David was the only person to survive, and he would have watched his lifelong best friend die in front of him as well as his entire unit. That would haunt a man forever, but how come he survived?
The question plagued her as she sat back in her seat and sipped at her wine in quiet contemplation. She'd served in the military herself for almost fifteen years. Not to mention all the men in her family had also been on tour in the Middle East, but she'd never heard anything like this. Something didn't sound right and, as she resumed her reading of the file, she realized something was definitely wrong.
The case notes from the investigation were typed up at the back, and she didn't like what she saw. There seemed to be multiple discrepancies in David's testimony. Nothing seemed to make sense and his story changed multiple times. Of course, veterans were often in shock once they'd returned home, and they occasionally remembered things that didn't happen. It was symptomatic of the mind being subject to trauma, but still, they always remembered the most important details.
"Hmm...." she drained her glass and placed it back on her desk with a clunk.
As she finished reading all the notes, there was something else lurking between the lines. His commanding officers never actually said it; they didn't need to, but all the evidence was pointing toward David having some sort of psychotic break and committing some kind of violent act. Marie pondered at the possibility that he was seriously unhinged.
She always prided herself on putting her patients first and seeing things objectively. There was no definite conclusion that he had done anything wrong, and so she would treat him the same as anyone else. She flicked off the light and closed her office door, heading to bed with a heavy heart.
Chapter 6
David woke up on his sofa with a stiff neck and a sore head. That wasn't anything new, except for the aftermath of the nightmares that were plaguing his mind. They were stranger than before and, as he sat up and rubbed at his temples, he was certain they had been real. It was only when he heard the traffic outside his house and felt his feet firmly on the thick carpet that he realized he was safe and home.
There was something so abstract and peculiar about the nightmares, and they possessed a quality they didn't normally have. Damian had spoken to him, and that was terrifying.
"It's just your imagination, it was just a dream," he told himself, standing up and heading for the shower.
Yet, as he let the hot water cleanse his tired body, he couldn't get the words out of his head.
"You did the right thing," Damian had said, through the dusty haze of the battlefield. "I'm proud of you, brother. Look after yourself."
Then he had disappeared and drifted out of David's mind as quickly as he came.
As he stood in the shower, he felt an eerie chill shudder down his back. He shivered despite the searing hot water that was steaming up the bathroom.
"Need to get a grip of myself." He slapped his cheeks lightly to try and revive himself.
He felt as though he was still in a state of shock from the night before. He still couldn't believe that he'd considered taking his own life, even if it was just for those agonizing few seconds. It was then – as he stared at the white tiles of the shower with his forehead pressed against the wall – that he decided he needed genuine help, and his mind turned to Marie. It wasn't long until he'd be able to see her, and, hopefully, she'd have the answers that could stop his suffering.
With a newfound sense of purpose, he got dressed and headed out on his bike. The sun was high in the sky, bleaching everything below it, and he reveled in its warmth. Driving out to the countryside, he soaked up the atmosphere of the wilderness and gazed at the beauty of the mountains in the distance. He could always count on fresh air and nature to bring him back to his senses. He rode for hour after hour until he looked at the time and realized it wasn't long until he had to meet Marie.
Driving back into the city, he instantly felt the jarring of the heavy traffic and noise against his psyche. More than anything, he wanted to hide in bed with a bottle of liquor by his side, but that part of him was over or, at least, he wanted it to be.
He glanced down quickly at the fuel gauge and realized he needed to fill up. Swerving left into the nearest gas station, he attracted the attention of the nearby customers, but that was nothing new. Everyone gawped and stared at the buff SEAL straddling his loud and heavy Harley.
As he filled up, he heard kids screaming behind him, and it was a sound that he hated. He winced at the high-pitched squeals and sighed.
"Damn kids," he grumbled.
But then a female voice chimed in and he spun around as he recognized it.
"Please kids, be quiet for just a sec. Johnny! Put that down, stop that. I said put that down!"
She sounded desperate and stressed and, as he looked at who she was, he knew why. Damian's wife, Suzanne, had been struggling since his death, and she looked as though she'd aged about ten years in the last few months. David had always meant to keep in touch with her. It was the least he could do, but something always held him back. He couldn't quite face being inside Damian's home without him.
As he looked at the two young boys in the back seat of the car, he saw Damian's face in both of them and it hurt to think they'd grow up without him. The guilt was burning a hole in him as he looked at the unhappy family. Suzanne was struggling to put gas in the clapped out, ancient car. Her hair was frazzled and unkempt; her clothes were dirty and disheveled. She'd obviously not been taking care of herself and, as David placed the fuel pump back in its holder, he knew he'd have to go over and help her.
Yet, something held him back. It felt like a real physical pain, and he found he couldn't take another step forward. He wanted to call out her name and say hi, give her a hug, and tell her everything would be ok, but he just couldn't. So, he climbed back on his motorcycle and hurried away, hoping she hadn't seen him.
Speeding across town, he knew he'd be cutting it fine to meet Marie and, as he arrived at her house, she was already standing on her porch with a stern expression.
"You're late." She screwed up her face and frowned, jokingly.
"No way!"
"Yep, you're a whole two minutes late."
They both l
aughed and headed inside. David immediately felt relaxed in her company and smiled as she held his hand.
"Come into my office." She patted his back and lead him to the back of the house.
"Office? Sounds very official. I was hoping you'd be taking me upstairs."
"Oh enough of that, David, You're here for therapy."
"Yeah. ‘Therapy,’" he said as he flexed his fingers into quotation marks.
Marie was annoyed already. She was fed up of him joking around and firing sexual innuendos at her. He needed serious help. But that charm of his, and his body… She couldn't help but beam on the inside as he flirted with her.
"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair in front of her desk.
He cockily sat back with his legs splayed and his head tilted back.
Chapter 7
This is a nightmare, Marie thought, as she bit the end of her pen. I really need to help this guy, but... Oh God, he's so hot and I could have him if I wanted.
"Ahem," she cleared her throat. "Let's get started, shall we?"
"Whatever you want." David smiled that magnetic grin of his and cocked his head to the side, watching the young therapist with a reserved sense of cool.
"So," she said, trying to ignore his seductive gaze, "I was thinking of beginning where we left off. We were discussing your sleeping habits."
"I’m an excellent sleeper, care to observe?" He leaned forward and placed his hand on her knee.
She felt the heat come from his body and she wanted him to move his hand higher and higher until he was up inside her skirt and deep in her panties. She looked down to his masculine fingers and was desperate to feel them inside of her, pushing up into her g-spot and making her wet.
"I'd like to see you cum," she said without realizing, then felt her face grow hot as she heard herself. "I mean I'd like to see you come a long way with your therapy. Many military men like you don't want to accept therapy at first, but when they do, it's as though they've turned a corner and started afresh."
"I'll turn you over if you want," he leaned forward even further and whispered into her ear. "I'd like to see you cum, too."
She was wet in an instant, as she felt his breath on her neck and his hand that was slowly sliding up her smooth leg. But she had a professional reputation to uphold, and she pulled away in fear of repercussions.
"We can't," she pushed his hand off her. "We'll get in trouble and it's wrong. I'm your doctor. It would be taking advantage of you and abusing my position of power."
"Oh, I'll abuse your position of power alright," he whispered in close to her neck before kissing her.
He smelled the deep scent of her perfume and the natural aroma of her skin. He breathed it in as his lips lingered on her neck, feeling her yield to him. She leaned into his arms and flung her head back, letting out a slight gasp as she felt the pleasure of his kiss.
Then she came to her senses and straightened herself up. Pulling her skirt down over her knees and pushing her chair back on its wheels. She took a deep breath and slammed her hands down on her desk to steady herself.
"We can't do this," she said, as she felt the slick moistness inside her underwear. "I want to, but–"
"But what?" He was quickly beside her, with his hand delicately touching her chin, pulling her gaze up to meet his.
"But it's against every policy. If we get caught, I'll lose my job." She sighed and pulled her head away while still looking at him intently. "More importantly, you're here to recover."
"So why invite me over then, eh? Why not just treat me at the clinic?"
"I don't know!" she flung up her arms in despair and stared at the floor. "There's something about you and... and... after that night we spent together, I knew I wanted to see you again," she admitted, and paused for a second to gather her thoughts. "I'm sorry, David." She stood up. "I've made a terrible mistake. I shouldn't have asked you to come over."
"Fine. I've had enough of your mind games anyway!"
"No! I'm not trying to play games."
"Whatever." He shrugged and began to walk away.
"Will you at least come to your therapy session next week?" She caught up with him in the hall and grabbed at his arm.
"Maybe," he said, pulling away.
"Please. I think you'd benefit from it."
He said nothing as he closed the front door behind him. Marie felt her shoulders sag as she watched him leave. The roar of his Harley echoed down the street, and she watched as a neighbor tugged at her curtains to see where the noise was coming from.
“Fuck.” She clapped her hand to her forehead. “I’ve messed up.”
Hurrying back to her office, she felt for her cellphone and quickly tapped the name of a man she hadn't spoken to in a long time.
"Officer Brady speaking," came the stern voice.
"Hey, it's Marie. I need to see you."
When the young doctor arrived at the bar, she attracted her fair share of admiring looks, but she wasn't interested in any of the men who were staring at her.
"Ah, Marie!" Brady was waiting for her with open arms. "It's been too long," he said, as he hugged her tight. "I ordered you a cosmopolitan. They're still your favorite, aren't they?"
"Maybe." She smiled and wiggled her nose. "So, how have you been?"
"Yeah great. Just great Marie." He looked at her with love in his eyes. "You're growing up so quickly."
"Ah, don't you start," she said with a giggle, as she sipped on her drink. "I get enough of it from my dad."
"So, how is your old man?" Brady asked while chuckling. "I miss that old devil, I really do."
"Yeah, he's doing just great. He moved into a retirement home with my mom a few months back. They're living the dream."
"Ah, that's just great."
Officer Brady went misty-eyed for a moment as he thought back to his old teenage naval days. It was then that he'd met a young and enthusiastic sailor named Harold, and they'd been tight as thieves for years. They grew up together and worked their way up the ranks side-by-side and, as each man created a family, they were always on standby to look after each other.
Brady would always remember the day Marie was born, and he'd often thought of the young woman as one of his own daughters. Of course, now she was a strong military woman herself and he didn't need to look out for her anymore. Yet, he missed her father more than he could say. He was closer to him than any blood relative, but as they grew older and different priorities took precedence, it wasn't long until they lost touch.
"Hopefully, I'll get to catch up with him at Christmas," Brady said, slapping Marie on the shoulder.
"That would be just great." She drained her drink and ordered another.
"So," Brady said, looking at her empty glass, "looks as though something's troubling you."
"Yeah. I need some advice on a young Navy SEAL under your command. David Axel?"
"I'm sick of hearing about that boy. What’s he done now?”
"I’m treating him at the clinic."
"Oh. Didn’t realize you’d be the doctor assigned to him. It’s a small world, ain’t it?"
"Yep."
"I bet you got your work cut out with that man."
"Like you wouldn’t believe." She wiped the lipstick from the end of her straw. "But, I gotta talk to you about something."
"Anything, Marie."
"I read his case file. There’s something just not right about it."
Officer Brady went rigid at her words and sat in cold silence. He bit down on his thumbnail and looked into the distance. Behind Marie sat two young boys barely old enough to drink. They looked so innocent and happy, and it annoyed the old, decorated officer. He had to see men much younger than them suffer at the violent hands of war, and they came home crumpled shells of men. The boys didn’t know how lucky they had it.
"Hey, you ok?" Marie waved a hand in front of his face.
"Sure. Sorry, just lost in thought there for a minute." He picked up his beer and dipped his top lip into the fr
oth as he drank. "David Axel is an enigmatic and troublesome man, but one who I wouldn’t pin down as a loose cannon. There’s something weird about his testimony, I’ll give you that, but I don’t reckon he’s as crazy as they say he is."
"What do they say?"
"That he took out his own men. That he killed his best friend."
"Dear Lord!" she gasped. "Do you think that?" Marie felt a blackness spread within her at the thought of the young man killing his own.
"No. I don’t. Something happened out there, but it wasn’t that."
"Hmm…" She played with the ice at the bottom of her glass. "I hope we find out soon."
Chapter 8
Why has she gotta play games with my head?
As David left Marie’s house, he was both raging and confused. He knew she wanted him – she’d made it pretty obvious – but why was she stalling, and why did she invite him over?
"God damn women," he muttered to himself. He pulled his motorcycle into his usual parking bay and tore off his helmet.
As he approached his house, he noticed a shadow in front of his door and it immediately sent his defenses up. Who the hell? He was on edge and ready to fight whoever it was. Could it be an intruder? He had no idea, but he was surely going to find out. He had no weapon on him, but he had his rocky fists and he felt his fingers clench as he swaggered to his door.
"Hey!" he shouted at the figure.
"Hey," the meek voice replied, and David stopped in his tracks.
"Suzanne? What are you doing here?" He stood rooted to the spot in shock. "I mean, sorry. It’s great to see you," he said, and he lunged forward to hug her.
Squeezing her tight, he realized just how much he missed Damian’s family, and he felt like never letting her go.
"I haven’t seen you in so long."
"Erm… maybe you wanna rethink that?" She smirked.
"Huh?"
"The gas station the other day. You think I didn’t notice that beast of a bike of yours roaring into the place?"