Chief's Mess

by L. A. Witt

I hurried outside with my heart in my throat. My car was there, and looked like it was in one piece. Not parked particularly straight, though, which confirmed what I’d been afraid of—I’d driven myself.

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  As my pulse pounded in my ears, I walked around the car, scrutinizing every inch for any dents or scratches that hadn’t been there before. Or worse—blood or fur in the grill.

  Nothing. There was a scrape above the driver-side fender, but that had been there for a while. The chip in the rear window was familiar, and the dent in the front bumper had enough dirt on it that it hadn’t happened recently.

  Good. Okay. Car was fine. By the grace of God, I’d made it home without killing anyone.

  Standing there on the curb, I pushed out a ragged breath as I ran a shaky hand through my hair. Okay, enough was enough. I’d gotten lucky last night, but that kind of lightning didn’t like to strike twice. No more getting blackout drunk and driving myself home. Absolutely no more. If I went out drinking with the boys, I called a cab. End of story.

  And as I headed back into my apartment, one thing was for damn sure—I definitely didn’t need any coffee to wake myself up today.

  “Chief Jackson.”

  I turned around as Will leaned out of his door. “Yeah, Senior?”

  “You got a second?”

  I’d only been at the office ten minutes, and hadn’t even had a chance to check in with my guys, but he had his Senior Chief voice today, not his my-buddy-Will voice, and not the grieving-newly-single-guy voice. So I nodded. “Sure.”

  He motioned for me to come into his office. I did, and he said over his shoulder, “Close the door.”

  I closed it, of course, but I wasn’t nervous like if I’d been in another higher-up’s office.

  “Have a seat.” He sat behind his desk, and I sat in front of it. For a moment, neither of us spoke, and now I was starting to get kind of nervous. His voice had an edge to it, and his expression was tight and frosty.

  I swallowed. I wanted to ask how he was doing with Vince out of the picture, but I got the feeling he wasn’t in the mood to discuss that. “So, uh, what’s up?”

  “I need you to tell me something truthfully, Noah.”

  Fighting the urge to gulp uneasily, I nodded. “Uh, sure.”

  He peered across the desk at me. “Did you drive yourself home the other night?”

  My gut clenched. “Which night?”

  Will’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play games with me. Did you, or did you not, drive yourself home?”

  There really was no point in bullshitting Will. He could calmly and gently coax a confession to damn near anything from damn near anyone, and he’d known me long enough to see right through any lies I might throw his way.

  So I sighed. “Yeah, I did.”

  He exhaled heavily as he let his head fall back. “Christ. Are you kidding me?”

  Heat flared in my cheeks. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but he was faster. “You’re a cop, for God’s sake. What happens if you pull someone over and bust them for a DUI?” He inclined his head. “What happens if that Sailor has heard all the rumors about you, and asks the CO straight out why he’s getting busted and you’re not?”

  I swallowed.

  “Those rumors are going around, by the way.” He tapped his knuckle on his desk. “I’ve had three people this month alone ask me if I think you’ve got a problem. And you definitely do.”

  “Look, I’m fine.” I met his gaze. “I’ll take a cab next time. That’s—”

  “That’s not the point, Noah.” He sounded exasperated. Exhausted, even. “You’re not a fresh-out-of-boot-camp Sailor on shore leave anymore. Drinking hard enough that you can’t get yourself home and can’t remember how you did . . . that’s a fucking problem.”

  I glared at him. “And I’m the only one in this command who gets shit-faced?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re a cop and you’re a chief. You’re held to a higher standard. And if you fuck up, you better believe someone higher than both of us will be happy to make an example out of you.”

  My throat tightened.

  “Here’s the thing,” he went on. “No one saw you leave by yourself. No one saw you driving. You didn’t get pulled over, and you didn’t hit anything.” His voice hardened, as did his eyes. “But we both know that was nothing but luck.”

  I avoided his gaze. “Believe me, I know.”

  “I can sweep this one under the rug.” He stabbed a finger at me. “But if you get caught again, it’s your ass. You know that, right?”

  Another nod.

  “It’s your ass, and I’m not going to help you out of it. Am I clear?”

  It was an empty threat. Everyone in the chiefs’ mess looked out for each other. It was a brotherhood, complete with hazing, though the Navy pretended that didn’t happen anymore. Chiefs didn’t rat each other out. Not if they ever wanted the rest of the mess to look them in the eye again.

  So I wasn’t afraid of Will actually letting me get hemmed up—or hemming me up himself—but I heard his concern. And yeah, he was right. The other night had shaken the hell out of me.

  “It won’t happen again,” I said.

  He watched me skeptically. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!” I showed my palms. “I’ll hand over my car keys to someone after I’ve been drinking. No more driving like that. Promise.”

  He pressed his lips together, and I couldn’t decide which part he wasn’t buying. Finally, he said, “Can you get your shit together, Noah? Please?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Good. Get out of my office.” The dismissal wasn’t his usual playful sarcasm. He wasn’t fucking around, and he was not inviting me to stay and chat.

  As I stepped out into the hall, I wasn’t worried he’d actually let this fuck my career if there was anything he could do to prevent it. Long before we’d both become chiefs, bonded through the practically sacred trust of the chiefs’ mess, I’d trusted him to have my back.

  But I was definitely rattled. He’d made his point, and I’d already made a decision not to let the other night happen again. Next time we all went out partying, I’d make sure I had a ride home. Problem solved.

  And when he wasn’t quite so pissed at me, I’d make sure to ask him how he was doing now that the cheating fuck-head was gone.

  It was bound to happen, and finally did. During one of my visits, Noah got called into work on the last day I was in town. He was annoyed and I was disappointed, but such was the military, and before the sun had come up, he was gone and I’d fallen back to sleep.

  He said something to me before he left, but hell if any of it had sunk into my brain. He must’ve expected that, because I woke up to a note that he’d be back no later than noon, and that he’d text me if anything changed. No problem. I had a rental car, so it wasn’t like I was trapped in his apartment all day, and I didn’t need to leave for Portland until five.

  Except I wasn’t sure I really wanted to wander around Anchor Point. Any other town, maybe. But this place? Meh.

  That lasted about an hour. I was getting stir-crazy being this close to Noah’s bed without being able to drag him into it, and I figured Anchor Point couldn’t be that terrible. Right? Only one way to find out.

  So, after a shower and a cup of coffee, I left and went into town.

  It was funny how this place had seemed like a godforsaken shithole when I’d come here the first time. Middle of nowhere. Drab gray military up against a trying-too-hard-to-be-quaint seaside town. Nothing to see. Nothing to do.

  But wandering around now, it was different. Like I’d only seen it in a faded postcard, and in person, it was actually vibrant and interesting.

  I supposed it made sense. When I’d come here the first time, everything had been through Clint-colored glasses. I hadn’t wanted to be here. Everything in Anchor Point had been in my field of vision because he’d fucked over my sister, and therefore, I’d hated everything about it.r />
  This wasn’t a Clint trip. This was a Noah trip.

  I didn’t feel like Clint had ever even been here. Which was stupid, but still. It was like Noah was the only reason I’d ever come to Anchor Point, and now the town’s charm was finally showing through. The wind-battered shops and restaurants along the waterfront didn’t seem like someone had tried too hard to make the town look old and weathered. The puns on signs were cute, and I chuckled at the old rowboat with a shark bite taken out of the hull instead of rolling my eyes like I had last time.

  It was more of a relief than I’d anticipated, realizing I actually liked the town. Almost like some part of me had worried that everything with Noah would be tainted by Clint.

  Not so much, apparently. Though my problems with Clint had nearly fucked things up with Noah when I’d projected one’s drinking problem onto the other. Thank God I’d pulled my head out of my ass before I’d let a good thing go.

  Smiling to myself, I decided this had worked out. I had a great boyfriend. And whether I’d turned my nose up at it the first time or not, it turned out he lived in a great little town.

  So I parked downtown and went for a walk.

  All right, Anchor Point. Let’s see how you look when I’m not ready to throttle one of your residents.

  Noah’s work cut him loose at eleven, when I was wandering along the pier, and the instant he texted me, I speed-walked back to the car and hurried to his apartment. I was definitely feeling good now. The walk had done wonders, especially with that gorgeous salt-scented ocean right there. It was like I’d exorcised Clint from his own town—or at least from this dimension or something—and didn’t feel like I was going to bump into him at any moment if I left Noah’s apartment.

  Noah pulled into the parking lot right behind me. We parked, and as I got out of the car, I had to pause and stare. I’d seen his blue digital camouflage uniform on the webcam before, but . . . hello. It was even hotter up close and personal.

  “Sorry.” He shook his head as he came toward me. “Had a last-second crisis at work and ran late.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Isn’t like I’ve been sitting here waiting on your doorstep.”

  “Fair. But still.” We hurried up to his front door, which was relatively sheltered from prying eyes, and there, he wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

  “You and me both.” Not caring that we were technically out in public, I let him draw me into a kiss. A long one. The kind I fantasized about whenever I wasn’t in Anchor Point.

  I met his eyes again. “I’m actually kind of glad you didn’t get home until I got here.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because you didn’t have time to change clothes.” I squeezed his ass and glanced down. “And that uniform looks insanely hot on you.”

  “Yeah? I always thought it looked better on the floor.”

  “Mmm, this I’d like to see.”

  Noah just grinned and took out his keys.

  Turned out he was right. That blue uniform looked much better in a rumpled heap next to his bed. Not that I spent much time looking. As soon as that gorgeous man was naked except for his dog tags, I pounced on him, and okay, that meant it took more work to get my boxers off, but whatever. Not my fault he stripped faster than I did.

  But, eventually, my boxers were out of the way, and there was nothing to do but touch and grope and nibble on every inch of his body while he did the same to me. It was perfect and hot, except his dog tags kept getting in the way, so he finally pulled them off and tossed them aside. I didn’t even have time to be disappointed. Maybe he could put them on again later. For the moment, we needed to fuck. Like now. And this was going to be a quickie. I just knew it. As turned on as we both were? Screw the foreplay. Screw gentle and tender. Screw . . . well, either of us.

  “We should get a condom,” I mumbled against his lips.

  “We should. But who’s on top now?”

  I broke the kiss enough to meet his gaze. “Is that like ‘Who’s on first?’”

  He laughed. “You really are a dork.”

  “Uh-huh.” I brushed my lips against his and murmured, “And you’re about to get fucked.”

  His amusement faded to a soft moan, and he held me closer, kissing me harder before he said, “I swear, you are the dirtiest man I’ve been with in a long time.”

  “I don’t know if you meant it this way, but I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “Oh, it is.” He went for my neck, letting his unshaved jaw graze my skin. “The dirtier, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Oh Noah,” I said in a melodramatic voice. “You say the most romantic things!”

  He burst out laughing and buried his face against my throat. “You’re crazy too.”

  “Is that a complaint?”

  “Nope.” Pushing himself up on his arms—God, he had gorgeous arms—he met my gaze. “My only complaint is about the current lack of a dick in my ass.”

  “Well, as it happens . . .” I cupped his balls and teased them just to fuck with his head. “I can resolve that issue.”

  “C-can—” He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut as I ran my thumb back and forth along his ball sack. “Can you?”

  “Mm-hmm. Want me to?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Grab me a raincoat and some lube, and you’re on.”

  He laughed, rolling his eyes, but then gasped. “God, Anthony . . .”

  “I don’t know if I’d call myself a god, but—”

  Noah groaned against my lips as I mercilessly teased him with my fingertips. Then, barely breaking the kiss, he growled, “Shut up and fuck me.”

  “I’m getting there.” I pressed two fingers in, and he cursed with a mix of pleasure and frustration.

  “You know I don’t need you to get me ready,” he panted. “I’m—”

  “Shh. Who said this was for you?” I curled my fingers inside him, grinning when he arched his back. “Or did you think I was going to stop with this?”

  “You’re such a bastard.”

  “Yeah, but I’m worth it.”

  “Damn it . . .”

  “Okay, I won’t tease you.” I did anyway. “I mean, not for very long.” Except I really did want to be inside him, especially now that he was trembling and trying to beg, so I slid my fingers free.

  I put on the condom and lube, and then settled on my knees behind him. Exactly like I’d hoped, he was already falling apart—gripping the sheets, struggling to stay still, his skin flushed and damp.

  Steadying myself with a hand on his hip, I guided my cock to his well-prepared hole. As I pushed inside, we both swore. No more snark now. No more winding each other up. No more torturing him instead of fucking him. Turned on as I was, I needed this as much as he did, and concentrated on working myself deeper inside him.

  The view was amazing. Noah’s body was so powerful and hot—he must’ve had forty pounds on me, and it was all muscle. He had the sexiest ass too, and it was even better with my dick disappearing into it.

  Only problem was that sitting up like this, looking down at him as I fucked him, I was too far away from him. Buried six and a half inches inside him, but weirdly, too far away.

  So I leaned down, wrapping an arm around him, and kissed the back of his neck. “God, you feel good.”

  The only response was a low, wordless sound. He was rocking back and forth under me, riding my cock while I fucked him, and he felt amazing. His skin was hot and slick with sweat, and I flicked my tongue across his shoulder to taste the salt.

  He whimpered, his tight hole clenching around me.

  “You close?” I let my lips graze the spot I’d licked. “Tell me.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Good. I want you to come,” I growled, and sank my teeth into his shoulder.

  Noah gasped, clenching around me. “Fuck . . .”

  “Come for me.” I slammed into him as hard as I could. �
��God, Noah, I want to—”

  The shudder shook his entire body, and mine too, and I bit him again as we both came, and I had no idea if it was the pain or his orgasm that made him cry out—maybe both—but it made me come that much harder, until I thought I was going to pass out right there on top of him.

  Somehow, I didn’t, and when I could finally remember which way was up, I carefully slid my cock out of him. He sank down to the bed, not even flinching when he landed in the wet spot. I knew that feeling—not caring about anything except how freshly fucked I was.

  I took care of the condom, and helped him clean up too. It was too hot for the covers, but definitely not too hot to cuddle, which we always did after sex. We relaxed. We kissed. We caught our breath. I didn’t admit it out loud, but this was quickly becoming one of my favorite parts. Throwing each other around and bruising each other all to hell was a blast, but I loved men who were gentle and cuddly in between. Even if it was the kind of gentle and cuddly that silently said, We are so not done tonight. Especially if it was that kind. The little kisses. Fingertips drifting dangerously close to erogenous zones. Long looks. Sleepy grins.

  I ran a fingertip over that spot I’d bitten while I’d come. It was bright red with distinct imprints from my teeth. “That’s definitely going to leave a mark.”

  “Good.” Noah licked his lips. “I like it when you leave marks.”

  “Oh, you dirty bastard.” I groaned. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into if you say that.”

  “Oh yeah? What am I getting myself into?”

  “Well, have you ever tried to sit through a meeting with a bite mark throbbing on your inner thigh?”

  Noah gulped. “No, but I’m kind of intrigued by the idea.”

  “Are you?”

  “Kind of, yeah. Especially since I have a meeting in the morning with the command master chief tomorrow, and I’m not looking forward to it.”

  “Good to know.” I winked. “So, how about next time, you come to Denver?”

  Noah seemed startled that I’d dropped the subject of biting him, but then he grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.” His palm drifted along my arm. “Doesn’t seem right to make you do all the traveling. But . . . are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”