Desertion

“Oh, shit,” she curses this time, as our eyes lock and she realizes she’s been caught. She didn't leave.

“Come here,” I call but she doesn’t move. Her eyes stay glued to my hand, still fisted around my cock. “Come here, now,” I demand. This time she doesn’t hesitate. Slowly, she moves closer. My hand starts moving, pumping faster as she inches closer to watch me.

“Is this what you want? You want to watch?” I ask, seeing the arousal in her eyes. Her head slightly nods causing me to pump harder. My free hand reaches out, grabs her around the wrist and pulls her to me. She gingerly climbs up on my bed and I have every vision I could come up with, on what I would do to her in my bed, flash before me.

“Takeover, sweetheart.” I watch a shaky hand reach out to touch me. My eyes roll back at her soft touch as it encases my throbbing cock.

“Fuck, baby, pump me harder.” I lie back and let her do all the work, getting lost in the warmth of her delicate fingers.

“Jesse, I—” she starts, but I drown her out, too lost in the action of a good hand job. Fuck, when was the last time someone jerked me off?

“Shhh, baby. Don’t stop.” I feel my balls tense as my cock pulses. Shifting up, I reach for her; sliding my hand down her side, slipping underneath her short skirt and into her panties.

“Jesus, you’re fucking soaked,” I groan, sliding my finger through her wetness.

“This is wrong.” A soft moan dances past her lips just as my orgasm hits, my cum spilling out over her small hand.

“Oh, God!” she gasps as my finger finds her entrance, sliding into her tight pussy.

“Fuck, so tight.”

“Stop.” My hand stills, still inside her heat.

“Don’t freak out on me now, baby,” I say as my orgasm ends. She lets my cock go then moves back from me, breaking our connection. My body feels heavy, sated and relaxed. If I wasn’t three parts gone, I’d offer to finish her off. But keeping my eyes open seems to be a hard task.

Reaching over for a discarded shirt on the floor, I offer it to her, then I clean up my mess and throw it in the vicinity of my dirty clothes hamper.

“Come here. I’m not done with you, sweetheart, but I need to sleep for a bit.” I reach for her and pull her to me. She lets out a small yelp but I don’t hear her argue. Instead, I close my eyes and let sleep take me.

“No, no, no. Don’t you fucking leave me. Conner! Fucking stay with me.” I can see Conner’s eyes starting to lose their light. I wish I could go to him, fucking help him, but I’m pinned and I can’t get out.

“Sat-Con is down,” I hear someone call, and I fucking know my friend is dying in front of me, yet I can’t fucking get to him. We won’t get out of this alive.

“Breathe, Marine,” I order and I can see he is fighting it, but is it enough? “Fucking breathe or die, Conner,” I say, anger replacing my fear.

“Jefferies?” I call again, but I know we’ve lost him. Where the fuck is everyone?

“Fucking get us out of here!” I shout again, but I know it’s too late.

I wake in a sweat, heart thumping, blood pumping, and hands shaking as I slowly come back to my room.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice asks next to me as I try to calm myself down . Jesus, I still have a bitch here?

“Yeah.” I shake my head, sitting up to get my bearings. It’s only been a couple of hours or so and I’ve woken up from a dream again. Fuck, it’s going to be a long night. “You should go.” I stand and pull my jeans on.

“Okay, but,” she mumbles, but I don’t want to hear what she has to say.

“Listen, I had a great time but it’s over. You know the score, out.” I don’t bother to face her. I don’t think I can face anyone right now. It’s still dark out and I know it’s a shitty move, but the bitch should have left when we finished our business.

“Great time?” she repeats.

“Fine, it was fucking awesome, okay? Great fuck. See you around.” I move toward the bathroom.

“But we didn’t—”

“Get the fuck out, now,” I roar, not in the mood. The dream fucked with me this time, and I’m hanging on by a thread. I don’t stick around waiting for her response. I move to the bathroom and slam the door shut, heading straight to the shower.

The truth is I don’t even remember coming back to bed. I remember arriving at the clubhouse after my physical therapy session. I remember Nix slurring his ass off and I remember meeting some blonde. After that, it’s black. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have taken my meds and drank.

Dropping my pants, I kick them off and step into the shower. I let the hot water wash over my pounding head and force myself to not go over the dream again. Instead, I try to remember how the small brunette ended up in my bed.

A smash followed by a crash pulls me out of my head.

“Jesus Christ, the bitch has gone stage-five clinger.” I step out of the shower, reach for my towel and wrap it around me. “I told you to fucking leave.” I push the bathroom door open and watch her trying to pick up the lamp she knocked over.

“I’m so sorry. I tripped.” She replaces the lamp and looks away from me.

“Just go,” I say and watch her stumble again. Fucking bitch is clumsy.

“Yes, okay.” She reaches the door and hightails it out.

“Close the fucking door,” I shout but she doesn’t stop. Turning back to the bathroom, I storm back into the shower and try to forget about the last twenty-four hours. I don’t know why I’m so pissed. Normally after a night of booze and women, I’m able to shove my dreams way back down, even go back for round two, but tonight, I can’t get a handle on it.