Breaking Article 134 Ch 09

"Wright, colonel wants to see you. What's up?" Mendez said, sticking his head through the door.

There was plenty of guilt written all over my face. "I dunno, Sarn't."

"Keep it zipped, Wright," he warned.

As if I would just spill my guts all over the place. Right, Sarn't. I'm not quite

that

stupid, Sarn't. "Yes, Sarn't."

I reported to the colonel with perfect military manners. Well, as perfect as possible on a pair of crutches. I stood as close to attention as I could get and stared at the wall above his head while he regarded me from behind his desk. Shades of the week before and another officer sitting behind his own desk. I mentally shook myself.

"Tell me about Friday, private," he said finally.

I swallowed the temptation to run screaming. I tried for a mild tone, slightly questioning, but completely innocent. As if I hadn't been driven off for an illegal affair with the major in his bright red gigolo car. "Friday, sir?"

"Don't play stupid with me, private."

Keeping my expression as carefully blank as possible, I tried not to fidget. I shifted my weight from one crutch to another and felt inspiration hit. That was probably what this was about. But why would the colonel care? Other than the paperwork, this was a problem for my platoon sergeant or the first sergeant at most. "I was running, sir, and I tripped and broke my foot. I reported to the staff duty NCO and he took a copy of my profile, sir."

"I meant with the major." The air was thick, thick enough to choke on.

Oh gawd. "The major, sir?" I asked in as innocent a what-major-might-you-be-talking-about voice as I could manage.

"Don't fuck with me, private."

Oh gawd, oh gawd, oh gawd! Think, Wright, think. "Well, sir, I'm not really sure what happened with the major on Friday. I was running, and when I tripped, he took me to the TMC because I couldn't walk, sir."

He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and scanned it. That paper probably held every intimate detail of every intimate moment I'd spent with the major. In lavish detail complete with pictures. So what if it was only one piece of paper and we did enough to fill up four bad porno films? He slammed the smoking gun, the damning evidence, my ticket to hell, what looked like a half page memo down on his desk. "'Fuck off and die, sir,' does that jar your memory? How about 'You can take your Non Judicial Punishment and stick it up your Non Judicial ass sideways, sir'?"

Uh oh.

"Is it your practice to scream gross disrespect at officers every chance you get or do you just do it on Fridays?"

"Well, uhm, sir, I don't usually disrespect officers at all, sir." I'd screamed that? Oh my gawd. I thought I'd been more circumspect. "I don't know what came over me, sir."

"What has the major done about this?"

What

hasn't

the major done? I tried not to blush. "I, ah, I'm not certain, sir."

"Nothing."

I flinched at the coldness in his voice. He knew. Oh God he knew. He knew, he knew, heknewheknew--

"He said you were in pain and it should be overlooked. What do you think about that, private?"

Pain? I hadn't even noticed it. "I, um, think the major is being very generous, sir."

The colonel's seat squealed as he leaned back in it. I wanted to look at his face, to see what he was thinking, but kept my eyes locked on the wall behind him instead. Military bearing, Wright. Military bearing.

"First you request a transfer, and then you tell an officer in your chain of command to," he referred to the paper again, "'Fuck off and die.' What's going on, Wright?"

I was going to cry again. I could

feel

it.

"What's your beef with the major? Did he do something to piss you off?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and told the biggest lie of my life. "No, sir."

He stared at me for a while, letting the silence drag out. My nerves were jangling when he finally stood up and came around the desk. He didn't stop until he was in my face. "I don't know what you've heard about him, private, and I don't care. He's a good man and a fine officer whatever the rumor mill says. I expect professional behavior from all of my soldiers, even

soldiers

like you. I will not have my command disrupted by insubordination and someone thinking she can shake her tits and her ass and get what she wants."

Soldiers.

He meant whores. I couldn't help it, my eyes flicked to his. I felt like a butterfly pinned to a dissection dish all of the sudden. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the colonel thought I was pissed off at the major over something sexual.

"I don't know what your problem is, private, but you'd better solve it. Am I clear?"

I didn't even occur to me to defend myself. "Yessir."

"I expect a formal apology to the major and a heartfelt thanks for his generosity. Today, private. Then I expect you to be the most squared away soldier on the post from here on out. If I even have one breath of trouble attached to your name, I'm going to hang you out to dry. Am I clear?"

"Yessir."

"Your platoon leader will make certain that you're too busy to think of anything more insubordinate than how to handle a mop. You are confined to quarters when you are not in the company area for four weeks effective immediately. If you'd like to take issue with that, you can request a court-martial," he growled. "Dismissed."

I didn't know if what he was doing was legal, but I wasn't about to protest. Instead, I fled.

The major was standing next to the First Sergeant's desk, sorting through some papers. I let my eyes lick over him for a heartbeat--just long enough to notice the concerned expression on his face--then attached them firmly to the floor in front of me. The senior NCOs unlucky enough to be out in the main office bay were subdued rather than full of their usual hooah grunt snort ambiance. I could feel their eyes all boring into me. It was like they'd never seen a private scuttle away from someone's office with her tail tucked between her legs before.

Screw dignity. I moved along as fast as I could.

"Private Wright," the major said, his voice cracking at me like another nail in my freaking coffin. "A word, in my office."

I wanted to scream. Maybe jump up and down on the desks and beat on my chest. I didn't need this, not now. "Yessir," I said, trying for a properly junior enlisted tone of voice, and followed him into his office.

"Shut the door, private." He dropped into his chair and stared at me.

"Yessir." I kept my eyes on the floor so I wouldn't have to see the avidly curious expression on the faces outside.

"At ease, private."

I allowed myself to lean more heavily on the crutches, slumping. Please get this over with,

please.

"Are you okay, Wright?"

I flinched. "I'm supposed to apologize to you, sir, for my gross disrespect last Friday."

"I know. How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sir." I shifted my weight to my other crutch. "I'm sorry, sir, about my gross disrespect Friday. I shouldn't have yelled at you. It won't happen again."

"Dammit, Wright, I don't care about that. Sit down, you shouldn't be on your feet."

I ignored him. "Thank you for not having me brought up on charges, sir, I appreciate your," I took a deep breath and tried not to choke on it, "generosity."

He sighed and his chair creaked.

I refused to look at him. "You shouldn't be alone with me, sir. The colonel thinks that I'm looking to get a sexual harassment charge against you."

"Did he say that?" He didn't do much more than a whisper, but it felt like I'd been broadsided by a blast furnace.

"No, sir. He didn't have to."

"Goddammit."

"May I go, sir?"

"Just tell me one thing, Wright. Are you okay?"

I shifted my weight back to the other crutch and scrunched my eyes shut. "I'm fine, sir."

"All right," he said softly. Apparently he didn't believe me either.

"May I go now, sir?"

The silence was grating, but thankfully short. "Yes, private."

I hobbled out of the office, negotiating my way through the company area without once taking my eyes from the floor. It was just too humiliating to have to look into their too-knowing faces.

Sergeant Mendez blamed all of it on the major. He referred to him as that son-uv-a-bitch under his breath when no one was listening. He had extra duties for me to do, of course, but they were all clerical. My profile didn't permit me to spend much time on my feet, though I'm sure the colonel would have preferred otherwise. I was too tired to blame the major. It wouldn't have been very difficult to do, since it was all his fault. Mostly his fault. Well, at least half his fault, but I couldn't work up the energy to do it. Instead, I did whatever work came my way without much of anything to say to anyone. The colonel wanted circumspect, I gave him workaholic.

I spent most of my time in the Dungeon. By myself. The supply room was all nice and by itself. My desk might have shared space with everything the entire battalion might need, but at least none of the stuff could talk. It could give you long, prying looks and speculative whispers. There were no conspiratorial come-on-you-can-tell-me grins. Just me, the dust, and tons of the Army's finest leftovers. Even Jones was asking questions. As if I would tell anyone what was going on. And that was the hardest part. I hated being by myself. I loved going out and having fun with friends. I needed people to talk to and laugh with.

Two Tuesdays later, I was about to pack it in and trudge back to the barracks when the major appeared in the Dungeon. Deep inside, I was happy to see him and that made me mad. I felt like giving him a holy what for that would peel the hide off of him, as my momma like to do with my dad, but the walls had ears and I was in enough trouble. I cleared my throat to get rid of the growing lump. "Can I help you, sir?"

He glowered at me. "Yes. You can quit walking around here like a kicked puppy."

"A ki--, I don't know what you mean, sir."

If anything, his dirty look got dirtier. "You're moping. Pouting. Walking around like someone just shot your pet cat. I won't have it."

Oh my fucking gawd. "It's kind of hard to do that, sir."

"And why is that, private?" He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. I wanted to pick up my clipboard and smash his arrogant face in with it.

"That's between me and colonel, sir. You remember the colonel, don't you, sir? The man in charge of the battalion who thinks I'm trying to fuck you out of a career, sir?"

"Don't take that tone with me, private. It's twenty one hundred hours. The colonel isn't here.

You

shouldn't be here."

"I have work to do, sir."

"Goddammit, Wright, I'm worried about you."

I crossed my arms under my chest and returned his belligerent glare. "Why don't you yell a little louder, sir. I don't think they heard you at the Pentagon."

"You're still pissed off at me. It's been three weeks, Wright. How long are you planning on punishing me over it?"

I threw him a wide-eyed innocent look. "Punishing you, sir? For what?"

His face turned reddish purple and that was the only warning I had. He was across the room before I could blink and jerked me out of the chair. I swallowed a shriek of outrage and clubbed him behind the ear with my fist. He threw me over his shoulder, unlatched the wire door leading off into the storage area, and carried me off into the darkened piles of army junk. He found a spot in the back by a square support column and leaned me against it. I took another swing at him, which he deflected so easily that it just got me all that much more furious.

"Shut up, Wright," he snarled.

"I--"

"I said shut up."

"I wi--"

He shoved his lips against mine, effectively shutting me up. He was smart enough not to stick anything, like his tongue, in my mouth, but that didn't stop him from swooping in to conquer. I tried to shove him off, but he leaned into me. I couldn't get enough clearance to hit him with anything he would even notice, let alone respect enough to back off for. He licked at my lips, then sucked on the bottom one. I could feel his penis shoving against my belly. My nipples were so hard, they hurt. I hit him in the biceps as hard as I could to remind myself that I was supposed to be mad at him.

He groaned, low and sexy, rocking his hips against me. He might have said something, but I couldn't tell. His hands dropped down to my ass, squeezing and lifting me more firmly against his erection. I wanted to spread my legs and rub myself against him completely. I reminded myself that I was pissed off as all get out at him, but I couldn't really remember why.

He slid the tip of tongue over my teeth, lifting me higher along the column wall. I opened my legs, letting him between them, letting his cock press against my pussy. I moaned, arching against him, and nearly knocked both of us over. He shifted position, pinning me to the column. One of his hands, the delicious weight of his body, and my legs wrapped around his waist kept me high enough for his lips to trail down to my throat.

"I'm mad at you, sir," I said, just to remind myself. I didn't sound mad. I sounded like I was begging him to fuck me.

"Should I stop?" he breathed in my ear, then licked the flesh just below it.

I couldn't swallow the moan. "Oooh, no, sir. Don't stop."

"What should I do, private?" He sounded amused. I should be mad about that, I knew, but he sounded hot, too. And I was getting hot.

"Kiss me some more, sir."

"Where, private?"

I grabbed his jaw and pulled his face back to mine. I could see the gleam of his eyes in the light that filtered from the front part of the storage area. "Right here, sir." I opened my lips and took him, invading his mouth with my tongue. As he had done to me so many times in the past, I held his face still with my hands on his cheeks and plundered inside of him.

He groaned into me, fucking himself against me. I violently wished the pants and everything to be out of the way so I could take him completely inside of me. Where he belonged.

My eyes popped open and my tongue stilled in his mouth. He sucked on it, humming in satisfaction. As if he were right where he belonged.

He must have picked up the sudden hesitation I felt because he backed away, just a bit. He pulled his tongue from inside of me and let his lips fall from mine. We remained that way for a few moments, mingled heat and mingled breath. I closed my eyes and sighed all the way from my toes.

"I'm sorry, Wright," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Tell me the truth, sir." My head lolled back against the wall and he buried his face in the crook of my throat. His hot breath wafted across my skin and I shivered. "Are you playing with me?"

"Still don't trust me?" He didn't sound angry, just resigned. "No. I'm not. I wouldn't be here now if I was, would I? You're dangerous."

I probably should have been incensed over that, not ridiculously pleased. "Dangerous, sir?"

"You could end my career with a tour in a federal penitentiary."

He so did not have to remind me of that. I opened my eyes just so I could glare at him. "So, why are you here?"

"I can't stay away from you. That makes you even more dangerous. You don't trust me, Wright," he growled, then licked my skin where my jugular vein throbbed, "but I trust you."

Oh gawd, why did he have to say that?

His body eased away from mine, letting me slide slowly to my feet. "When you're off quarters, I'll take you to the cabin. I'll tell you about Linda."

"Linda?"

"The female sergeant. You wanted to know about her."

My brow furrowed in instant dislike. "You don't have to take me to the cabin for that, sir."

"I have to take you there if I'm going to get inside of you again, Wright."

I felt the mulish streak bubble up. "I'm not so sure I want you inside of me again, sir." Well, I might have started out mulish, but the thought of him inside of me again made me blush.

He grinned, a flash of white teeth. He took my hand and put it on the tented front of his trousers. I couldn't have stopped my fingers from curling around it if I'd cut them off. I squeezed, just a little, and he rewarded me with a sexy little moan. "Tell me you don't want me to fuck you, Wright."

I opened my mouth to do just that, but nothing came out. I

did

want to. Right at that very moment if I thought I could get away with it. My hand moved along the length of the shaft, up then down.

His hand reached down and caught my wrist. "Son of a bitch," he hissed, "stop that. Not here."

I grinned. "You're right, sir. I want to fuck you again. Right now."

He groaned and leaned in for a quick, hard kiss. "Not now. Later. At the cabin where I can strip you naked."

With my free hand, I flipped open his belt buckle and tugged the thin, nylon belt out of it. It jangled when it came free.

"Knock it off, Wright."

His lips were inches from mine, so I licked them. "You can't go upstairs with this in your pants, sir."

"We can't, not here. Someone might--"

"We're not, sir." I popped open the top two buttons in the camouflage placket of his pants.

"Wright." A moan. A warning. Nothing but want.

I opened the rest of the buttons and curled my hand over the thin cotton boxers that held his erection to his belly. "Kiss me again, sir."

"Wright," he breathed again, giving in to me. His mouth descended again, covering mine completely.

I fished his cock out, pulling it into the cool, dusty air. He moaned, sliding his tongue inside of me. I wrapped both hands around it, re-familiarizing myself with its length and girth, testing the heat and strength of his intimate flesh. It was so hot, it felt like a branding iron in my palm. The curving shaft was dry, but the thick head was wet and slippery. I wanted to smell him, taste him. Instead, I moved my fingers over the head, spreading the wetness further down the shaft. It wasn't enough. I undid my own pants one handed and shoved them down just enough. I don't think he noticed. I rummaged around between my legs, where it was dripping wet, first with one hand, then the other. I took that wet and spread it all over his cock, soaking it with a part of myself. It made my fingers glide over him so easily.

He groaned into my mouth again, stabbing his tongue deeper into me and then retreating. "God, Wright, I can smell you." I grinned until his lips locked with mine again.

I started at the base of his cock, squeezing and pulled my fingers toward the crown. First one hand, and then the other, moving and twisting my fingers in short, circular patterns, tracing the veins, or just plain straight lines. "I love your cock, sir," I told him.

"Do you?"

I got a little more slippery stuff from my pussy and then changed my grip, this time using the full heat of my palm to stroke him from head to base with a twist of my wrists. He liked that, I could tell. He rumbled something I couldn't understand and swayed toward me. I kind of liked it, too. I liked the way he felt in my hands. I liked the noises he made when I stroked him. I closed my eyes and pictured him standing in front of me, every muscles in his body taut, his head thrown back, and his fist flying back and forth on the length of dick.

I shifted my fingers again, pressing my thumb into that sensitive spot on the underside just below the head. My fingers splayed on the upper side, then slowly closed and squeezed. In my mind's eyes, I watched him jack himself off, and tried to mimic the motions with my own hand. He went fast, then slow, then fast again for a while. I let my hand take a similar route and speed, timing it by the motion of his hips and the stifled grunts and groans he made. Every once and a while, his hand would swipe over the head, swirling across the crown and then down onto the shaft again. I used the fingers of my other hand to do it, teasing the little slit then spreading over the tip. I swapped hands, so I could get my fingers all wet between my legs again. I spent a few moments, there, teasing my clit and probing the swollen flesh of my opening. I touched a particularly sensitive spot and something incredibly wicked occurred to me.