Military Romance Collection

by E Cleveland

  My heart is beating out of my chest. I don’t want to see them fight, but that guy deserves what he gets. The whole thing is messed up and my mind is racing. Did he call me his girl?

  “Whatever, man. I was just having some fun for fuck’s sake. I’m sorry. Just go,” he backs away with his tail between his legs like the little Chihuahua-man he is.

  Cameron wraps his arm around my shoulder, but never takes his eyes off the guard as he guides me in through the gate.

  We weave our way through the crowd and I can still feel the anger pulsing through him.

  “Hey, thanks for that. Don’t let it ruin our night, though. He’s just being a guy,” I lean my head against Cameron’s shoulder.

  “No, that’s not being just a guy. Not all guys are like that.” Cameron spits out his words.

  “That’s not what I mean. He’s a douchebag. For sure. I know not all guys are like that,” I start backpedaling.

  “Sorry,” his arm slackens as he unfurrows his brow. “I know you don’t. I’m just riled up by that piece of shit. I should’ve broke his face,” he snarls.

  “I think you put the fear of God into him. You don’t want to get kicked off the team this year for a loser like him. I’m fine, I promise.” I soothe him.

  “Ugh, we’re not off to a great start are we?” Cameron stops and looks down at me.

  “Well, I don’t know. It’s not every day that a sexy guy comes to your rescue.” I smile at him.

  “I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” he smirks back.

  And it’s not every day that Cameron Armstrong calls me “his girl”. I leave the thought unspoken. Tucking it away to keep me warm on a cool night.

  “Hey, how about I get us some drinks?” He drops his arm from my shoulder.

  “Sounds good, I’ll be here,” I look up at the stage. The last time I went to a concert it was to see Hootie and the Blowfish. I look around at the wild college kids surrounding me and the band setting up on stage. Something tells me this is gonna be a lot crazier than a Blowfish concert.

  Just a feeling.

  “I’ll be right back,” Cameron turns and walks to the bar. I gotta admit, I don’t mind the view as I watch him go.

  He slides up to the bar and instantly girls start circling around him. The wide eyed grins and way they’re pawing at his biceps makes my skin prickle.

  Cameron’s girl? That idea is a joke. So much for being different. I’m no snowflake, I’m just me. And, from the looks of it, Cameron has his pick of every girl in here.

  Why would he care about me?

  15

  Cameron

  “Ohhh, Cammie! Your arms are so strong,” a young brunette with a face like a Barbie and a voice like a chipmunk struggles to circle her hands around my bicep. “I bet you could, like, bench-press me. Right?” She flutters her eyelashes at me.

  “Yeah, I could bench two of you. Easy,” I admit, keeping my eye on the bartender. When the chick behind the counter finally gives me the nod I’m not sure what to order. I don’t know what Chelsea likes to drink.

  Luckily the music kicks in, loudly assaulting our ears and gives me a second to figure it out. She doesn’t seem like a fruity cocktail kinda girl, but I doubt she wants to sling back a beer with me either. “Uh, two Long Island Iced Teas,” I finally blurt out.

  “I don’t want a Long Island,” the brunette pouts. “I drink Pina Coladas,” she sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated sulk.

  “Well, good thing it’s not for you then, huh?” I barely look at her from the corner of my eye. I can see she’s getting desperate for my attention and hope the bartender will hurry up on the drinks so I can leave what is about to be a scene.

  “Vickie, who’s your friend?” A redheaded version of the same kind of girl slides up beside us. “He’s cuuuuute,” she purrs as she shamelessly eye-fucks me.

  “Don’t you recognize him? It’s Cammie.” She waits for the redhead to get a clue, but no recognition crosses her face. Then again, that might just be her normal look. “Cameron Armstrong. From the Buffaloes,” she continues.

  “Oh! So you’re that sexy quarterback I’ve been hearing about so much,” she steps into me and her perfume makes me gag on the scent of cotton candy.

  “I guess so,” I practically bore a hole in the back of the bartender’s head as she takes her time pouring out shots from the makeshift liquor cabinet they’ve set up out here.

  “Mmmm, no fair Vickie! You gotta share when you got something this good,” she trails her finger down my arm.

  Normally, I’d be tempted. No, that’s a lie. Normally, I’d buy a couple of Pina Coladas and get this party started, but one look over my shoulder at Chelsea makes those thoughts quickly evaporate. She is different from these girls. For one, she’s not a girl. She’s a woman. And a fucking classy one at that.

  Finally, the chick brings my Long Islands and I hand over the cash. “Nice to meet you ladies, but I’m here with someone tonight, so you have a good one.” I don’t wait for them to say goodbye. I just peel off to where I left Chelsea by the stage.

  Walking up behind her, I can’t help but admire the way her ass fills her little skirt. My mind flashes back to the peep show I got earlier of her lace, pink panties. My cock throbs at the memory. Vickie and her friend could never do something as innocent as accidentally flash their underwear and get me this worked up. That takes a special kind of sexy.

  I’m two feet away from Chelsea when I realize that the girls from the bar aren’t good at taking no for an answer. They’re trailing a foot behind me, like a couple of feeder fish waiting for any tiny scraps they can get from a great white shark. Damn it.

  “Hey, I got you a Long Island. I hope that’s OK.” I lean into Chelsea and hand her the plastic red cup full of booze.

  “Yeah, sounds good,” she smiles before taking a sip. Chelsea licks the little droplets of booze off her lip and I try not to groan as my imagination runs wild with what else I’d like to see her lick with that tongue.

  “I’m really glad you came out tonight,” I murmur.

  “I am too,” I can still see the smile in her eyes as she takes another drink.

  “Cammie! I thought you were gonna buy us a drink,” Vickie slithers up beside me and presses her breasts against my arm.

  “Yeah, where are you running off to so quickly, huh?” Her fiery haired friend coos at me and steps between me and Chelsea.

  “Whoa, not cool ladies. I told you I’m here with someone,” I can feel my temper flare up as they drape their arms off me like they’re trying to mark territory that isn’t theirs. These two might be bitches, but I ain’t a fucking fire hydrant.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t you remember me?” Vickie pushes her tits into my arm like she’s trying to leave a permanent impression. “I bet if we go back up Flagstaff together, I could remind you,” she runs her finger over her lips and swirls her tongue over the tip suggestively.

  My eyes dart over to Chelsea, praying silently that she didn’t hear the remark. Her crumpled face tells me otherwise though. She takes another couple of steps back from this nightmare as her fears from earlier are confirmed.

  “Maybe this time we can bring my friend here too,” Vickie continues. “I don’t mind sharing,” she purrs. “God knows, you’ve got enough to go around,” she stares at my crotch and licks her lips shamelessly.

  Chelsea turns on her heel and starts making for the exit. God damn it!

  “Not interested!” I clutch the desperate brunette by the shoulders and look into her eyes for the first time since she’s started this pathetic campaign. “I have to go,” I follow Chelsea down past the bodies, jostling to get closer to the stage for the show she’s about to walk out on.

  “Chelsea! Wait!” I call out, but she’s not having it. I know she can hear me.

  “Chelsea! Come on,” I drop my cup to the ground and slowly jog up beside her. “Hey, don’t leave like this, please?” I clutch her arm and she stops dead in her tracks. For the fi
rst time, I notice the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

  “This was a mistake,” she answers flatly. “I’ll just take an Uber home. You stay here. It looks like you’re in for a much better night with them,” she turns to walk away again, but I hold her arm.

  “Hey, please? I don’t want fun with them. I told them I wasn’t interested in anything about them. I only want to spend time with you tonight. If you want to leave, let’s go. This party is jacked anyway.”

  “Where? Back to your place? Or up to Flagstaff again? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you should be getting paid by the state of Colorado for how often you play tour guide up there,” she snips.

  I bite my cheek to prevent a smile from creeping over my lips. I don’t want her to think I’m laughing at her, I’m just surprised by her burn.

  “No, neither.” I answer. “Come on, let’s go talk. Please? Just you and me, like the last time we hung out,” I search her face for the answer her lips aren’t giving me, waiting for her to give me another chance I probably don’t deserve.

  Chelsea sighs. It’s the deep sigh of a person who is about to give up. I won’t give her a reason to though. “OK,” she finally answers me. “Let’s go.”

  16

  Cameron

  I quickly punch the passcode in and deactivate the alarm, opening the door for Chelsea after the distinctive beeps. She knows the score this time and doesn’t waste anytime slipping into the stadium with me.

  Once inside, I finally have a chance to stop and look at her. I sort of wish I didn’t. That somehow I could ignore the pain painted on her face.

  “Hey, you look cold.” I notice the goosebumps rising on her caramel skin. “How about I get you a blanket?” The offer feels weak and cheap. Surely not the apology she’s hoping I would give her instead.

  “I’m fine,” she purses her lips tight.

  If there’s one thing I know about women, it’s that when they say they’re “fine” they’re anything but. I don’t argue with her; instead I just grab one of the blankets from the storage box behind the players’ bench and drape it around her arms. It cascades down her shoulders, shining under the moonlight like a silvery gown.

  “Listen,” I finally break the heavy silence, “I’m sorry about those girls back there. I had no idea that they were gonna follow me back to you and act like that,” I place my arms on her shoulders and look down into her almond shaped eyes.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t a shock though, was it?” Her eyes flash with anger, but beneath I can see her hurt. “That one girl seemed to be pretty familiar with you and with this whole routine of yours,” she looks away as the pain rolls across her eyes like a black cloud in a summer sky.

  “You’re right,” my gut twists with guilt as I realize that what Chelsea has been telling me, what I’ve known in my heart all along, has been true. She’s nothing like these other girls. Most of these other girls know the score. Know that they’re the score, that is. They’re happy to grab a ticket and take a ride for a night if it means bragging rights for the rest of the year about fucking me. It’s a two-way street with them; I don’t use them any more than they use me.

  “That’s how most of those girls are, but you’re different. I know that,” I try to explain.

  “How am I different? How is any of this different?” The hurt and anger in her voice fills the empty seats in the stadium. “This is the same ‘date’ or whatever,” she makes air quotes with her fingers, “that you take every woman on.”

  “You’re right. I messed up tonight. This is what I do. I’ve taken a lot of girls to the mountain,” I explain.

  “No shit,” Chelsea furrows her eyebrows.

  “And I’ve brought a lot of girls here. This date isn’t unique. I’m not going to pretend that it is. The truth is, I didn’t know how to bring you out on a date that would do you justice. I knew this date wasn’t good enough for you, but I couldn’t think of anything better. I just fell back on my stand-by. It’s no fucking excuse for any of this. Like I said, this date isn’t unique, but you are.”

  I step closer and tuck her hair behind her ear. Chelsea snaps her eyes up to mine. “How?” She stares me down, not letting me off the hook that easy.

  Damn this girl is pure fire. And I love it.

  “How are you unique?”

  “Yes,” she doesn’t flinch, her eyes locked on mine.

  I fill my lungs with the crisp September air and run my hand over the back of my neck as I search my mind for the words.

  “Because with every other girl, this is my grand finale. These ‘plays’ as you called them, are my show closer. My fireworks farewell. It’s different with you though because I don’t want this to be the end of one night we share. I want it to be the beginning of many more.”

  Her features soften and she looks at my face like she’s searching for the crack in my story. She can search all night, but there isn’t one. I’m telling her the truth.

  “I don’t know, it’s just,” she twists her mouth to the side and glances down as she gathers her thoughts, “I don’t think I’m cut out to be draped on Cameron Armstrong’s arm, you know? I like to keep things pretty simple and this is turning into anything but,” she looks up at me from under her eyelashes like her eyelids are too heavy. Like she’s afraid to look at me fully. Maybe I don’t fit her definition of keeping things simple, but from her racing pulse I can see in her collarbone and the way she’s looking at me right now, I don’t believe that’s such a bad thing.

  “Look, I’m OK with waiting until you’re comfortable before this gets any crazier. We can take this slow if you want to. I’m good with letting you set the pace,” she tilts her face up to mine and I’m instantly reminded how this will be easier said than done as the overwhelming urge to kiss her courses through my veins.

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you,” I continue. “It definitely doesn’t mean that when I look at your perfect lips, I don’t want to kiss you, ‘cause I do. You have no idea how much I do. But for once in my whole damned life, I’ve met someone that makes me care about what they want more than what I want. You want proof that you’re unique? Well that’s it. I care more about your happiness than mine. If that’s not proof that you’re different from every other girl, then I don’t know what is,” I take a deep breath, feeling lighter after my confession.

  The silence in the stadium is staggering. I can hear our breaths. I think I can even hear our hearts beating. In the distance I can hear the band we left behind playing.

  “Kiss me,” she whispers.

  Her words are faint, but my heart hears them as clear as a bell and I don’t need to be asked again.

  I wrap my arms around her and the blanket slides off her shoulders, slipping through my grasp to the ground. My lips find hers and I suck her bottom lip in over my teeth, gently giving her a little nip before our tongues explore each other.

  My cock throbs as it begs to be let free from my pants. I’m desperate to feel her pussy around me, to drag my tongue over her skin and taste her sweet center. But for now, for this moment, I will savor her mouth on mine. I run my hand up the back of her neck and tangle my fingers in her long hair. Chelsea presses her body into mine until only our clothes are keeping us apart. I run my other hand down her back slowly, until I slide it over her curvy ass. I dig my fingertips into her skin, grabbing a generous handful of her plump cheek and she moans into my mouth and opens her legs like she’s willing me to keep moving those fingers forward.

  I pull back from our kiss and give her swollen lips a quick peck, then another. I quickly take her earlobe into my mouth and flicker my tongue over the soft flesh. Chelsea tilts her head to the side and sighs. I trail my tongue from her ear down to her neck, giving her a soft kiss and then a quick nip before kissing away the intensity with another gentle peck.

  I let my fingers move from her ass down between her thick thighs, sliding my middle finger softly over the edge of her panties. I press my cock into her, showing her what she�
�s done to me.

  “Oh!” She throws her head back and cries out. I feel how wet she is for me already, her pink underwear betraying her desire. Chelsea might play the good girl, or hell, maybe she is a good girl. It seems like this good girl has a naughty side though, and she doesn’t mind me bringing it out in her.

  I put my hands on her shoulders and kiss her again, harder this time as I lead her back carefully, walking her to the barrier between the field and the seats. With her back pressed against the open bars, I look down at her. Chelsea’s eyes flutter open and she looks at me questioningly.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice hoarse.

  “Not a single thing,” I murmur in her ear. “Grab these bars right here,” I guide her hands up over her head to help her grasp the cold metal. “You’re going to want to hang onto these,” I instruct her.

  “Why?” She breathes the word.

  “Because when I eat that sweet little pussy of yours, I don’t want you buckling at the knees,” I wrap her fingers around the bar and slide down onto my knees in front of the tiny piece of denim keeping me from claiming my prize. I can smell the perfume of her desire as I slip my fingers under the edge of her skirt and tug it up over her ass until the panties I got a sneak peek of earlier are revealed again.

  There’s no way she went out on a date in a hot pink thong and didn’t want to get fucked, is there? I hook my thumb over the edge of the lace standing between me and paradise and pull it aside. Her pussy is trimmed close and I take a second to admire her before I hover my lips over her. Wrapping my fingers around her hips, I pull her forward to meet my mouth. My tongue quickly delves between her dark lower lips and I lick her from her center to her sensitive nub.

  Chelsea bucks her hips as I flicker my tongue over her clit, her moans beginning to fill the night air. I glance up at her from between her thighs and almost smile at the sight of her rolling her head back, her face turned up to the moon.