A New Assignment Pt 03

**Thanks for reading. This is my first story so I really appreciate all the feedback and comments.

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Chapter 4

Dreams can be so enjoyable. Walking along the beach listening to the sounds of the waves slapping back and forth, my body is soaking up the sun. A gentle breeze and reggae music playing in the background. Ah, this is the life. Then reality interrupts.

I jump out of bed from the banging on my front door. I rush downstairs and open the door. The Colonel is standing there with his head tilted giving me a strange look. Damn! It can't be 7PM. He was serious?!

"This is an interesting look. Your idea of dressing up needs some work."

"I never agreed to those anonymous pages. And my look is called 'Just jumped out of bed due to some a-hole pounding on my door'." I hiss as the Colonel just shakes his head.

"I figured you needed my help to get ready. Good thing I wasn't really planning on leaving until twenty hundred. That gives me an hour to try and clean you up."

I try to slam the door in his face, but he is too fast and sticks his shoe in to block my efforts. I resort to playing dirty and try to use my powers of persuasion to get him to turn around and leave, but he seems prepared for that too. There is no effect. We stare each other down, neither wanting to be the first to look away. It's a game of dominance and one that I have never been good at playing. Actually I hate games, all games.

Finally the cold from outside overwhelms me since I'm barely covered with clothing. Sighing, I back up expressing a silent defeat which he takes as an invitation inside. The Colonel strolls in like he owns the place and it only infuriates me further. He plops down on the couch and puts his feet on the coffee table.

"Tick tock Dr Sloan. Hurry along and pretty yourself up." That hits my last nerve.

"What is your problem Colonel Taylor Quinn? You are bleeding to death and I help you. You are rude and I help you. You ignore me and then always show up around me. You send me silly messages like a kid in school. You show up at my home and force yourself in only to insult me and then expect me to happily comply like you are some king that I need to serve. I don't think so. Go to hell! You wanted in. You're in. But don't expect me to be going anywhere with you anytime soon, you sonofabitch."

He laughs. I almost choke in shock at seeing that he actually has a smile and cute belly laugh. There was even a small dimple on his right cheek. No, his laugh is not cute. Nothing about him is cute. Well, his tight jeans are pretty damn sexy. No! He is not sexy. He is not cute. La la la la la. He seems to sense my internal struggle and chuckles again.

"Are you finished?" He asks calmly.

"No! I am not finished. I could call the MP's and get you in a lot of trouble. What do you think about that?" I say walking toward the phone.

He watches but says nothing. I pick up the receiver and start pressing numbers.

"I know you aren't calling the MP's because your residence is not on base. They have no jurisdiction." Damn him!

"Fine! I'll call the police. They DO have jurisdiction."

"Good, I look forward to seeing my buddies. They are all ex-military men, you know. We will have a great time partying here. What kind of beer do you have?"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT COLONEL QUINN? WHY DO YOU KEEP BOTHERING ME? I am just trying to take care of injured soldiers and do my part for America. I work hard. I don't stick my nose in anyone's business. I haven't said a word to anyone about your visit to the ER."

"I told you this morning. You need to get a life doctor. So I am taking time out of my busy world to treat you to a night out on the town. It is my gift to you."

Wonderful. Now he is actually admitting he thinks he is God's gift to the world. He is not going to guilt me by turning it around trying to make it sound like I am the one that is being ridiculous and over-reacting.

"I never asked for your help or your gifts. I have a life. I like my life. I don't like you in my life."

The Colonel glances at his watch "Now you have forty-five minutes to get ready Doc."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I yell.

"Well if you really want to go wearing that and your bed-head, then be my guest." The Colonel says and he rises to his feet and walks toward me. "Let's go then."

He puts his hand on my shoulder and starts to push me toward the front door. I resist and turn back. Now our faces are inches apart. I can smell his enticing cologne and feel his warm breathe so close. I try to take a step back, but his hand is firm on my shoulder and I can't budge. We look into each other's eyes. It feels like minutes have past, but it had to be only a few seconds. The Colonel then steps aside, still holding my shoulder and leads me toward the stairs. I am not sure why I am letting him move me about like cattle. I am NOT going to be sleeping with him. I am not going to let any other part of his body touch me, I don't care how sensuous his lips look or how much I want to run my fingers through his short spiky chocolate hair.

At last I have the strength to speak again without sounding shaky, "Fine! You win. I'll go wherever you want to drag me since you are obviously not going to leave. But this is it. You will not do anything like this again to me. Ever! Do you understand?"

"Yeah yeah yeah" he mutters "Just go shower. When you're done hopefully I will have found something in your closet that I am willing to be seen with you wearing."

I turn to growl an angry retort, but am already in the bathroom. He closes the door to shut me up.

Exactly forty-five minutes later, the front door closes and we leave my house. Against my better judgment, I wore what I was told. Why do I feel like I am ten again and my mother is making me wear some awful outfit that she has chosen to torture me with?

I glance down again to make sure that all the important parts are covered. I am showing a lot of skin, probably even more than what I was wearing when the Colonel showed up. The thigh high 3-inch heel leather boats had been a spur of the moment purchase some years ago that I never intended to wear in public. The black leather mini skirt was a forgotten memory that should have been burned or at least hidden in the dark recesses of the closet. How did he ever find this?

I fidget and adjust the strips of material crossing my abdomen and exposing most of my stomach, shoulders, back, arms, well just about everything was exposed. I wasn't even sure that this was something I owned. It definitely was not recognizable. The Colonel was kind enough to let me wear a thin black leather jacket out into the cold.

Great, I am going to be known as the nipple girl tonight. I am freezing and everyone will be able to see. Can this night get any worse? I hope we are going somewhere obscure so I never have to go there again. Hopefully I won't see anyone I know.

As we walk the length of her driveway, I look around for his car. Then I notice the big black and chrome motorcycle parked on the front lawn of all places.

"Oh no! I am not wearing this and riding on that." I stutter.

"Yes you are. Now get on and let's roll."

"I can't even straddle this thing without exposing myself."

"Well then I hope you are wearing panties otherwise you might have to straddle something else hard that will give you the ride of your life."

"Ew!" I shout not appreciating his vulgarity.

The Colonel is not even listening. He gets on the bike and adjusts himself. He turns and hands me a helmet.

"I just spent time fixing my hair and now you want me to cover it with this?"

"Just trying to keep you safe. Suit yourself. You have to wear eye protection. It's the law."

I tug on the helmet like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Then I carefully move my leg over the lowest part of the motorcycle and wiggle back trying to avoid any further embarrassment in order to sit on the bike. The seat is small and angled. I keep sliding toward the Colonel. My legs are practically wrapped around him. His tight butt is close enough to feel warmth radiating from him and I start to get aroused. Cabbage. Dead grass. Worms. Think about anything else. The Colonel reaches back, taking my hand and pulls it around his waist.

"You might want to hang on, tight." The bike roars to life and darts off like a bat out hell.

We finally arrive at a placed called The Shire. It is dark and hard to see much detail about the structure but it appears to be a bar or a dance club of some sort. The parking lot is full and people are oozing out of everywhere. It looks like there may be an outside terrace in back and some tables along the side. The front entrance is so crowded the inside doors are not visible.

The Colonel takes my hand and quickly leads us through the crowd. It was like the parting of the red sea. People seemed to just move out of his way and then fill back in as soon as we pass. I was preparing to complain about holding his hand, but realized that it was the only way for both of us to get to wherever it was he was going. His hand was soft and warm after all, so it wasn't unbearable. The Colonel stopped so abruptly that I slammed right into his back. He looks back at me with a slight smile, like he meant for that to happen, so I flash him my angriest look. Then we continued plowing through the patrons.

The place seemed to stretch on forever. I could finally see the back wall with a small booth in the corner. It was surprisingly empty. We walk up to it, and the Colonel reaches for my jacket. After he took the jacket, he guides me into the booth. There was a tiny hook next to the table. The Colonel hangs up the coat and then slides around the other side. No sooner had his butt hit the seat, did a waitress show up with a pad ready to take our order. I look around for a menu, but the Colonel was already ordering.

"We'll have two glasses of water. I'll have a MGD and she'll have a ..." he looked at me and paused. So he was going to let me speak?

"I'll have a MGD as well. Thank you."

The waitress winked at the Colonel but barely even acknowledged that I was sitting there.

"Friend of yours?" I ask.

"Oh, I am a regular here. I tip well."

"So is this your table?" I ask jokingly.

"Yes." He says rather seriously.

The waitress came back with the water and beers. She appeared to be waiting for further direction from the big tipper. There has to be more to this story. She is probably one of his flings and is waiting to hook up with him later tonight. Lovely. She probably thinks I am his current play toy. I am certainly dressed for the part. Damn him again!

"That will be all for now Tiffany."

I look for a name tag but there wasn't one on the skimpy outfit Tiffany wore as a uniform. The plot thickens. At least there will be some sort of entertainment tonight.

We just sit in silence. I look around watching the people. They were of all ages. Some were shooting pool. Some were on the dance-floor located off to the right. Most were just in small groups conversing and laughing. It was a somewhat relaxing environment if it weren't for the loud music and gobs of people.

The Colonel clears his throat rather loudly and I sharply turned back toward him.

"So you're going to pout now?" he asks.

"Huh?"

"I was talking to you and since you weren't responding, the reasonable assumption would be that you are pouting."

"I'm not pouting. I was people-watching. Sociological dynamics are fascinating. I apologize." I reply sarcastically. "Please do go on."

"Thought you might like to look at the menu so we could place our order. I'm starving here since you were an hour late getting ready."

"I thought you were prepared for me to be an hour late?"

"Oh I was, but that doesn't make me less hungry."

For a second, his eyes sparkle and it makes me think that his words might be referring to being hungry for something other than food. I quickly grab the menu he is offering and begin scanning through the selections.

I mentally make a choice and close the menu. The Colonel looks at me as if to ask if I am ready but he does not actually ask the question. He nods his head once and the waitress shows up out of nowhere. He was looking right at me when he nodded. How could Tiffany possible know his nod was to summon her over?

Again, Tiffany looks right at the Colonel completely ignoring everything else. He again nods while looking straight into my eyes.

Tiffany shifts her hips as if she was bored and waited.

"I'll have the cheddar burger well done. And can I get another beer please and a shot of Goldschlager? Thank you."

The Colonel raises his eyebrows but says nothing about the order.

"I'll have the t-bone steak, raw and another beer as well."

Then he turns and says to me "Partying alone tonight or do you want some company?" Before I can reply, the Colonel continues talking and expands his order. "And I'll have a shot of Jack as well. That's all."

Tiffany returns with the drinks and slams them all rather hard on the table in front of the Colonel. Saying nothing, the Colonel takes a beer and a shot and hands them to me. Then he picks up his shot and says "Cheers!" We clink glasses and shoot them down.

"Who knew you might be fun to party with?" he sneers.

"Oh, I can party. You know nothing about me." I retort.

"Then tell me something about yourself. Where were you born?" he asks. I think he's kidding but his intense eyes prove that he is really asking.

"I was born in a suburb outside of Chicago and lived there until I left for medical school. I spent the next six years on the East coast. After that I went from hospital to hospital going wherever I was needed. Then I got the offer to join the team here on base and thought I could really help out. It is important to me to be able to help our soldiers since they give up so much for people they will never even meet. What about you, where were you born?"

"Here."

"Oh, here as in near the base?"

"No. Do you have any family?"

"No. My parents and brother passed away in a car accident about five years ago. No other extended family. It's just me. Do you have family?"

"Yes."

"Chatty, ain't ya?"

"No."

"Where is your family?"

"Around."

"So this conversation stuff is supposed to go back and forth. One word replies are not giving me anything to work with."

The Colonel slides out of the booth, takes my hand and gives me a gentle pull.

"Then let's dance."

A slow song just started. Dancing was the last thing I thought he would do. I can't seem to figure him out. He places his left hand around my waist and pulls me in close. Then he takes my hand in his right. We are hip to hip with no space in between. I have little option but to put my head on his shoulder.

It feels like every eye in the area is on us. There are others on the dance floor, so I have to be imaging it but as I glance around I am making eye contact with a lot of people.

"I think we are being watched." I whisper.

"Probably." Well that was helpful.

"Why is everyone staring at us?"

"Who cares?" he says nonchalantly.

"You can't answer a question with a question."

He chuckles "I didn't know there were rules to being interrogated on the dance floor. I am sure they are just staring at the beautiful woman in my arms."

I immediately feel my cheeks turn beet red as I blush.

"Are you giving me a compliment Colonel Quinn?"

"No. I am complimenting my taste. I told you I could get you cleaned up. It's just like finding a diamond in the rough."

"Whatever."

This is the longest slow song in history. When will it end? I try to loosen the grip between us, but end up being denied. I can hear his heart beat near my head. It is slow and steady. Mine is pounding away. His cologne is almost intoxicating. My knees are getting weak. Heat is pouring through his crisp white shirt yet he is not sweating in the slightest. I am hoping that I am not perspiring or leaving makeup stains on him, but with the way the night is going, that is probably exactly what is happening.

The song ends, we head back to the table and are seated so quickly that my head is spinning. We went from being pressed up close together to being across the room separated by a table in the wink of an eye. Thankfully the white shirt sitting across the table is still just as crisp and white as it was before.

The food arrives and the Colonel orders another round of shots. I am hoping I don't get sick since it has been a while since I got smashed. I rarely drink and only ordered the shot to calm my nerves and to kill the taste of beer, which I really dislike.

Six more shots later, I am laughing and tossing my head back. The Colonel even seems to be loosening up. Is he actually flirting with me or is that just the alcohol taking effect? I try to sneak a peek at the clock.

"It's only eleven, doll. You have at least an hour before turning into a pumpkin."

"What about my job? I can't go to work hung over." I say quizzically.

"You aren't due back at the hospital for another thirty hours." I want to ask him how he knows that, but know he won't answer so I save my breath.

Tiffany returns with another round of shots. The Colonel again passes one in my direction.

"This is my last shot. Anymore and I won't be able to walk out of here in these boots of mine. You'd have to carry me." I tease. "And I wouldn't want you to try and take advantage of me although it wouldn't surprise me."

We both shoot back our drinks and without another word another round of shots arrive. This time, it is not Tiffany who is delivering them, but a very tall wide dark complected man who looks like a patron rather than a employee. He says nothing as he places a shot in front of each of us and then walks away.

"Well that was weird. How did you manage to order another round? You didn't even nod this time. Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Taylor?"

"Mr. Taylor huh? No, I would definitely not be trying to get you drunk. You seem to be doing that perfectly well on your own."

I am feeling the effects of the alcohol, so I drink a full glass of water to try and sober up. The Colonel finishes off his shot and then leans across and takes mine as well.

"Can you handle another dance Ms. Sloan, or will I end up wearing the drinks you have consumed?"

"Oh I can dance your shoes off. Let's go."

I try to rise without having the room spin and my stomach should be okay as long as it's a slow song. My luck seems to be turning as a slow song starts just as we reach the dance floor. As before, the Colonel takes the lead and pulls me in tight against his body. I reach for his arm to stabilize myself and notice his sculpted arms and broad shoulders. He relaxes his grip just enough for me to casually move a hand across his chest. I am enjoying the feeling of his firm pectoral muscles. My drunken arms and hands seem to have a mind of their own. I reach up and touch the ends of his hair. He is looking down at me but says nothing. I have to close my eyes to help keep from getting sick.

As I slowly drawl my nails back down his neck, I can feel him tense up and suddenly his grip increases and our bodies are merged back together. I think his heart beat seems have picked up the pace but it is hard to tell over the feel of my own heart pulsing in my chest. The clothing I wear that was too little coverage earlier now feels smothering. The Colonel moves his hands to my waist. His thumbs gently rub back and forth across my bare midriff. Both of my hands are now moving up and down his six pack abs and then I lower my fingers until they are just inside the top of his jeans pulling the material toward me.

The next song has started but neither of us seem to really noticed. We continue the seductive dance until the beat picks up and someone accidentally bumps into me. The Colonel growls, but then breaks his hold and heads off the dance floor. I follow, but when I reach the table and begin to sit, the Colonel pushes my jacket at me.