General Misconduct

by L. A. Witt

  “That’s quite a sunburn, Ensign.”

  I glanced down at my arm. Sure enough, my sleeve had pulled up enough to reveal the red skin above my elbow. Turning around, I self-consciously tugged it back down, though it didn’t do a damned bit of good. “It’s, uh, just from resting my arm against the window while I was driving.”

  His eyebrow flicked upward. “Is that right?”

  I nodded.

  “I see.” He picked up his pen and flipped open another folder. “Might I recommend some sunscreen next time?”

  “Noted, sir.”

  “Dismissed, Ensign.”

  Thank God.

  I got the hell out of his office. Finally in the clear and safely out the door, I still had to deal with the captain and the colonel, but at least—

  My stomach suddenly plummeted to my feet, and I froze midstep.

  “It’s, uh, just from resting my arm against the window while I was driving.”

  “Is that right?”

  This was Japan. Cars were right-hand drive. If my excuse had been true, it would’ve been my right arm that was burned, not my left.

  Oh. Fuck.

  A mild sunburn wasn’t a career-threatening offense, but feeding a bald-faced lie to the man who was watching me like a hawk over an order not to see his son? Bad idea. Real bad idea.

  The rest of my rounds could wait. I went back to my office and sank into my chair, elbows on my desk and fingers pressing into my temples. I hoped and hoped and fucking hoped that the general hadn’t looked closely enough to realize which arm was burned and which arm would’ve been if my story had checked out.

  I still didn’t regret yesterday. General Bradshaw could send me to the ends of the earth to keep me away from his son, but he couldn’t take yesterday away.

  But something told me we weren’t going to keep this below his radar for long.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Connor

  The only reason I managed to finish any of my homework was the weeks of practice I’d had recently. Every single day had been an exercise in studying and writing papers while counting down the minutes until Aiden was off work, and I’d gotten pretty damned good at it. Just as well we’d waited this long to finally have sex—I’d have failed out of every class by now if we’d jumped right in.

  Giddy and distracted, I stared out my bedroom window at the ocean below. I still couldn’t believe yesterday had happened. In all the fantasies I’d had about finally sleeping with someone, I hadn’t even come close to the reality. Sex on the beach? With someone who was so careful to make sure he didn’t hurt me? It couldn’t have been any more perfect than it was.

  I’d been scared to death that sex would hurt. And, yes, I was a little tender today, but it wasn’t even all that uncomfortable—definitely less so than the sunburns or those grains of sand I couldn’t quite chase out of my shoe. It was just a reminder whenever I moved that yesterday had really happened.

  I felt great today. I couldn’t wait to do it again.

  I looked down at the open book in front of me. Studying. Right. I was supposed to be doing that.

  I reached for the glass I kept on my desk, but it was empty. Good enough excuse as any to get up and stretch for a few minutes, so I stood, stretched and then took the glass downstairs to refill it.

  The door to the garage opened. I could tell by the sharp footsteps that it was my father, and out of habit, I tensed.

  He doesn’t know, I reminded myself. Fucking chill.

  Dad pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge. “Is your stepmother home?”

  “I think she went to the commissary with Rika.”

  “Oh, right.” As he poured himself a glass of tea, he said, “Ensign Lange had an interesting sunburn when he came to work this morning.”

  My blood turned cold. His eyes shifted, and the burn on my forearm prickled like he was looking right through my toasted skin.

  He set the iced-tea pitcher aside and eyed me over the kitchen island. “Don’t lie to me, Connor. Were you with Ensign Lange yesterday?”

  Blood pounded in my ears. He had me backed into a corner, and he knew it. If the burns hadn’t given us away, my hesitation did.

  I set my jaw and narrowed my eyes. “Yes. I was with Aiden yesterday.”

  “Where were you?”

  Having hot sex on top of hot sand.

  I casually reached for the pitcher of iced tea. “Does it matter? You don’t want us to see each other. We saw each other.” I shrugged and started pouring my drink. “What else is there to discuss?”

  He didn’t say anything, but I could feel him glaring at me. I concentrated on filling my glass and putting the pitcher away. It wasn’t a passive-aggressive thing. I just desperately needed to do something besides withering under that stare that probably had the same effect on guys who were several pay grades above Aiden.

  “Connor.” Dad’s voice was quiet, but I didn’t let my guard down.

  I faced him, holding on to that ice-cold glass for dear life. I wanted to believe that thousand-yard stare didn’t work on me, but who was I kidding?

  He took a drink and set his own glass down. “Listen, son. You know damn well I’m not in this to keep you from getting out and meeting people. I’ve never forbidden you from dating.” He inclined his head, eyeing me. “But not men under my command.”

  “Dad, we’ve been over this. Almost every American on this island is under your command.”

  “Then you’ll have to wait until you’re off the island,” he snapped, but quickly softened. “Connor, you don’t understand how complicated this can get with his career and with mine.”

  “Oh, so now it can affect yours?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Fucking really?”

  “We’ve discussed this before. It’s a conflict of interest. Borderline fraternization.” He sighed, and his voice softened a little more. “Ensign Lange and I work together, and I work directly with his commanding officer. If he gets a promotion or a commendation, or even so much as a ‘Nice job, Ensign’, how can he or I prove it had nothing to do with his relationship with you?”

  I dropped my arms. Painful as it was, I couldn’t argue. Military politics were a reality I’d been all too aware of since I was a kid, and whether my dad was a dick about it or not didn’t change the fact that fraternization and all that bullshit really could fuck his career. And Aiden’s. Goddammit.

  “I’ve never said this was easy for you,” Dad said, his tone a little softer now, “but you and I both know it was the lesser of two evils. It was either this or living with your mother, and—”

  “Stop.” I put up a hand. “Don’t make this about Mom.”

  He fell silent.

  “Or if you do,” I said, every word carved in ice, “let’s talk about how you’ve used what she did to keep me under your thumb.”

  “What? I have—”

  “Cut the crap, Dad.”

  His eyes widened.

  I continued. “Every time I step out of line, you remind me I have other options. Why don’t you just out and say it? If I don’t follow your orders to the goddamned letter, you’ll send me back to either fend for myself or live with her.”

  My father glared at me. “I’m not keeping you under my thumb, Connor. This isn’t an easy situation for any of us. The fact is, if you date someone under my command, it could fuck his career and mine.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?” I threw up my hands. “Just hold off on dating until I graduate?”

  He exhaled. “It’s two years, Connor. I know it’s not easy, but it’s—”

  “Not easy? Dad, I’m twenty years old, and Aiden’s the first guy I’ve ever dated! You were married when you were a year older than me.”

  Dad lifted an eyebrow. “And divorced a few years later.”

  “Beside the point. You’re not even giving me the chance to test the water and find someone.”

  He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry you’re unhappy. Things would be different if we lived
in the States, but we don’t. I can’t change the fact that most of the men your age on this island are military. But it’s only two more years.”

  “Only.” I shook my head. “That’s a long fucking time to be alone. And for God’s sake, what if I really like Aiden?” I hated the way my voice wavered, but couldn’t keep it steady. “I don’t want to wait two years to be able to date anyone. Aiden’s the one I want to see.”

  Dad held my gaze for a long moment. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. This one’s out of my hands.”

  Well. What else was there to say?

  We broke eye contact. After a moment of awkward silence, Dad left the room, and I stared into the iced tea that I’d barely touched.

  This was horseshit, but what could I say? As long as Aiden worked with my father, I couldn’t justify putting both of their careers on the line. The day Aiden stopped working for him would either be the day Dad retired or the day Aiden transferred off the island.

  I’d heard for years that most Americans eventually got burned out living on this island, because of the isolation. Being on a tiny rock in the middle of the ocean, five thousand miles away from the continental US, could do strange things to people’s heads. I’d never understood it. Maybe because being here meant being far, far away from my mother, and because I loved this place.

  But suddenly I understood that isolated feeling. I could walk out the door right now, get in the car and drive in any number of directions, but I could only go so far. Any place I went would still be within fifty miles of this house. And my dad. And Aiden.

  There was nowhere I could go on this island and get away.

  And as long as I couldn’t get away from my father, I couldn’t be with Aiden.

  What the fuck did I do now?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aiden

  My sunburn faded, turning from red to a tan that I’d never be able to completely even out. I didn’t know how Connor’s had healed, though, because I hadn’t seen him. Ever since that day at the beach, our texts had been brief and sporadic. Any suggestion of getting together was met with a noncommittal response.

  We stayed in contact, though, which was promising. Sort of. The more we texted back and forth without seeing each other, the more I wondered if he was just humoring me. He was new to this whole relationship thing, never mind the physical aspect, so maybe he just didn’t know how to call it off. At least a dozen times, I psyched myself up to call him and end it, but I never could go through with it. I’d never been able to break up with someone via text or phone. It had to be in person or it felt like a cop-out.

  Only problem was getting him to commit to meeting up. And now it had been a good three weeks since I’d seen him. If we did get together, it was anyone’s guess if I’d call it off the instant we saw each other, or throw myself at him because, goddammit, I missed him.

  Break it off? Yeah, right.

  Three weeks since I’d seen him, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or why he didn’t want to see me. Crap. Had I fucked up? Had that day been too much, too fast? He’d wanted it, but…had he? Did he regret it? Oh God, had I hurt him? Just thinking about it made me break out in a cold sweat. I’d been slow and careful, giving him as much control as I could, but had that been enough? Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? Did I do something wrong?

  I stared at my phone. This wasn’t a conversation we could have via text. And I wasn’t even sure if we should have it over the phone. In person. It had to be in person.

  Holding my breath and dreading the answer, I wrote out a text: I’d really like to see you.

  After hesitating for one minute, then another, I finally made myself send it.

  And then I waited. And waited.

  Fuck.

  That wasn’t good.

  I gnawed my lip and drummed my fingers on the desk. Crap. This was the moment of truth, wasn’t it? He was probably sitting there, staring at my message and trying to formulate a tactful response.

  Almost fifteen minutes later, a message finally came through: I want to see you too.

  I held my phone to my chest and sighed, giving myself a moment of melodramatic relief, because God damn, he’d kept me hanging.

  With my heart in my throat, I wrote back: When?

  And once again, the silence dragged on. And on. And on.

  I distracted myself with getting caught up on e-mails, surfing the Web and, finally, playing a mind-numbing video game.

  Beside my computer, my phone vibrated. I damn near fell out of my chair when I lunged for it, but I recovered and managed not to drop the thing on the floor. When I looked at the caller ID, my stomach flipped at the sight of Connor’s name.

  His message, though, almost knocked me out of my chair all over again:

  Can you get away for the weekend?

  That was a switch.

  Swallowing hard, I wrote back: Yeah, I can.

  Cool. Dad will be in Sasebo until Monday.

  Maybe that was what this was about. He and his father must’ve had it out, and he’d wisely been laying low.

  Then a longer message came through.

  If you can reserve a place at the Okuma resort, I’ll pay for half. For Saturday night? Put it under your name. I’ll meet you there.

  “Thank God.”

  I’ll make the reservation now. See you this weekend.

  Less than a minute later, he replied: I’ll see you then.

  ~*~

  Connor beat me to the resort, and I’d never been so happy to see his car.

  He was parked beside the main office of the resort, and as I pulled into the lot, he came out of the little shop next to the office.

  I got out of the car, and his eyes lit up.

  “You made it,” he said, striding toward me.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  He didn’t answer. He just threw his arms around me. For a split second, I was aware of the fact that we were in public, but he kissed me so hard he almost knocked me off my feet, and I didn’t care anymore. We were in public. At an American resort. With Americans around.

  And fuck it. Just…fuck it.

  I ran my fingers through his hair and returned his kiss, not giving a damn who saw or who cared. Even if I couldn’t hide this growing hard-on, I just didn’t care.

  “I’m so glad you came,” he said.

  “Me too.” I dipped my head to kiss his neck. “I was afraid you didn’t want to see me.”

  “I’ve been dying to see you.” He shivered and arched his throat against my lips. “After last time, I’ve…”

  “It wasn’t too much for you?”

  “God, no.” He dragged his fingers through my hair. “The last time was amazing. I’ve been losing my fucking mind ever since then.” Connor sighed. “My dad got on my case. He threatened to—”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to justify yourself.” I raised my head and kissed him tenderly. “I just missed you, that’s all.”

  “I missed you too.” He licked his lips. “Maybe we should go check into our cabin.” With a wink, he added, “It’s more private.”

  “Yes. Yes, it is.” I took his hand, and we both subtly—well, as subtly as anyone could—adjusted the fronts of our shorts before we went into the resort office.

  On the way out, Connor held up the keys to the golf cart that came with our cabin. He smirked. “A golf cart? Seriously?”

  “Yeah. They don’t allow cars out there, and it’s a bit far to walk.”

  “At least it’ll get us there faster than on foot.”

  “You haven’t ridden in too many golf carts, have you?”

  Connor laughed. “No, but it’s gotta be better than walking with a hard-on.” He winked, and I shivered.

  I tossed my overnight bag into the back of the cart and slid in beside him. He put a hand on my leg, and I covered his hand with mine. We exchanged grins, and, goddammit, I was already getting hard again.

  I drove the cart as fast as it would go, which wasn’t what I
’d call fast, but it got us across the resort to our cabin.

  The cabin was tiny, tucked up against a bluff on the edge of a private beach that was reserved for guests renting this particular spot. The whole place was ours. Completely ours.

  I parked in front of the cabin. “Here we are.”

  We both got out of the cart. I grabbed my bag, and we hurried up to the front door. Connor unlocked it. As soon as we were inside, I hadn’t even let go of my bag before he grabbed me and kissed me.

  My bag fell to the floor at our feet. Connor’s landed on top of it. Embracing him, I nudged the bags away with my foot so we wouldn’t trip over them. Jesus fuck, I’d missed the way he kissed. Our overnight bags were the least of our worries right then—I was lucky my legs stayed under me at all.

  “Maybe we should test out that bed,” I said.

  Connor shivered, pressing his hardening cock against me through our shorts. “Maybe we should.” He kissed me again. “I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I’ve missed you like crazy.”

  “You mentioned it.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “But that’s okay. I missed you too. So fucking bad.”

  “I wanted to see you,” he said, the words coming quickly. “But my dad, he figured out we’d been together, and—”

  “I know.” I held him against me and kissed his forehead. “He didn’t say anything to me, but I know damn well he knew.”

  Connor sagged against me. “I feel like such an idiot for—”

  “Don’t.” I cupped his jaw, tilted his head up and kissed him softly. “It’s on him, not you.”

  “I know, but…” He sighed.

  “I mean it,” I whispered. “Don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I silenced his protest with another kiss and added, “Now let’s test out that bed.”

  Connor laughed and nudged me back a step. “I like that idea.”

  Still dressed, we tumbled onto the bed together. It was hard and smallish, but it would do just fine. We didn’t need much space, and a hard mattress just meant more leverage when I was inside him and wanted to give him more, harder, faster—

  “Fuck, I want you.” He kissed me, his body shuddering on top of mine, and I was so damned turned on my head was spinning.