Drill Me, Sergeant Read online

  “You still should have called us.”

  After a sufficiently groveling apology on my part, Mom informs me that the roads will be clean by tomorrow morning and that she and dad will be coming home with my grandparents in tow.

  “I was going to get there early and cook us a late Thanksgiving dinner, but it sounds like you two have been busy making sure that’s not going to happen.

  Oh, we’ve been busy alright. But again, that doesn’t seem like the most appropriate response at the moment.

  “Everything else is okay. It’s just the turkey that’s a little worse for wear,” I say instead.

  Mom chuckles away her disappointment, as is her way. “Well, we’ll figure something out. We’ll be home first thing in the morning, doll face.”

  “Okay, Mom. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  The absurdity of the situation is almost too much for me. The turkey, burnt and smoking on the stove. The pie, mostly eaten and surrounded by different parts of a Thanksgiving meal, all in different stages of preparation. Colt and I, naked, staring at each other in shock while his cum leaks out of my ass.

  “Well,” he says, after I relay the conversation to him. “Looks like we have our fair share of work to do.” And with that, he snaps into the military precision drilled into him by the Marines. We get cleaned up and pull on our clothes, finishing the dinner without ever discussing what we just did in my bedroom.

  We sleep in separate beds again because to my parents, ‘first thing in the morning’ means they’ll be here before the sun has even thought about getting up. I wake to the sound of activity in the kitchen, the low hum of conversation, the deep rumble of my father’s laughter and the spine-tingling growl that is Colt’s voice. I can’t make out words, but all I know is that all the people I love are out there and I don’t want to be left out. I pull on some clothes and bolt down the hallway, burst into the kitchen, and wrap myself up in one of Dad’s bear hugs.

  “Hey, Kitten,” he says, pulling me tight. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  Mom finishes stirring something in a big pot on the stove and wipes her hands on her apron before sneaking in under my dad’s arms. It’s a big Hill family hug and it’s exactly what I needed.

  “Where are Grandma and Grandpa?” I ask.

  Mom pulls back to check on the stove and Dad pulls out a seat at the table, gesturing for me to sit next to Colt. “They opted not to come, considering we’d have to turn right around and take them back tomorrow,” says Dad as I grab a cup of coffee before taking a seat.

  I’ve been totally aware of Colt’s refusal to look at me since I walked into the kitchen which absolutely will not do. After pouring myself a cup of liquid energy, I plop down into the seat next to him and drop a playful hand on his thigh.

  “Come on now,” I say. “Be honest. Grandma and Grandpa aren’t here because Colt burned the turkey.”

  Colt turns to me, his eyes wide. “I think you had quite the hand in what happened to that poor bird. It wasn’t just a me thing. It was definitely an us thing.”

  He’s back to not quite looking me in the eye again and as soon as he finishes speaking, he excuses himself for a coffee refill, choosing to lean against the sink rather than come back to the table and sit next to me.

  The rest of the day should be wonderful but it’s not. Instead of enjoying the time with my family, the inside jokes, the good food, the warmth and comfort of being with people who understand me better than most, I’m busy worrying about Colt. As often as I take steps to be next to him, he takes steps to put distance between us. When I ask him a question, he gives me a one word grunt for an answer before he lobs the conversational ball over to one of my parents.

  Whatever it is that’s bothering him, I refuse to let him block me out because he’s feeling a little uncomfortable. I get it. It’s not exactly traditional for us to be hooking up. But that doesn’t change the fact that there’s something special between us, something as unique as we are. It’s weird and it’s wonderful and it’s worth way more than two hot ass night’s and one awkward Thanksgiving meal.

  Most of what he and I cooked yesterday is completely edible, so after a quick run to KFC to put a little poultry on the table, we sit down to eat. I very purposefully sit across from Colt, making it impossible for him to look away from me without looking a little weird. Dad does his traditional ‘We Are Thankful’ speech and I smile sweetly, careful to completely avoid looking at Colt for the rest of the dinner.

  One thing I know about men, they love to chase rather than be chased. It doesn’t take long before he’s busy asking me questions and seeking out eye contact. I spend the entire dinner in a wonderful conversation with my parents about the life I envision after graduation, giving Colt a few single worded answers to the ever more pressing questions he asks me.

  After dinner—which was impressively delicious if I do say so myself—I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and lo and behold, Colt’s waiting for me in the hallway when I come out. He grabs me by the waist and pulls me right back into the bathroom, turning on the fan and locking the door behind us.

  “Why won’t you talk to me?” he asks, his hands heading south to squeeze my ass.

  “Just following your lead.” I purse my lips and shrug. “Thought you needed some space.” I smile up at him, unable to be anything but happy when I’m this close to him.

  “Fuck, Nadine,” he growls. “I don’t know what I need.”

  “That’s funny because I know exactly what I need.” I run my hand up his thigh and across his stiffening cock. “And it looks like it needs me just as much as I need it.”

  “What am I going to do with you?” There’s laughter in his voice, a sense of wonder, a softness I don’t know what to do with.

  “I can think of more than a few things,” I say, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss those lush lips.

  The rest of the weekend passes quickly, although Colt and I decide not to push our luck and spend the night in our own beds without so much as a goodnight kiss. Sleep takes too long coming, my mind and my body both crying out for Colt, bringing up all the memories of this weekend together. I finally give in and slide a hand into my panties, rubbing my clit while remembering the sting of his hand on my cheeks, the pressure of his cock in my ass, the surge of fluid flowing from me when he fucked me senseless. Apparently, he made good on his promise to ruin me for other people and I can’t even manage to get myself off. I resign myself to falling asleep frustrated.

  We do manage to find time for a proper goodbye. He kisses me deeply and I savor the feel of his body against mine, his rough hands grazing my cheeks, his scent wrapping around me like a protective cloak. He promises to call and I promise to text and I make the drive back to Colorado State fighting tears the whole way.

  The funny thing is, not once during the whole weekend did I realize our time was severely limited. That as soon as Monday rolled around, he’d be at his house and I’d be in my apartment and there’d be hundreds of miles separating us. All I ever thought about was finally getting everything I ever wanted. I never once stopped to wonder what life was like beyond that. How do I come back from a hot weekend with my dream guy? How do I go on, knowing he’s there and I’m here? How do I survive with this giant ache in my belly? The hole in my heart? Whoever thought the end of this fairy tale could look this bleak?

  Chapter Seven

  I’m not even two feet into my apartment when my phone starts buzzing in my purse. I know without looking that it’s Colt. I drop my bag on the floor and kick the door shut behind, crinkling my nose at the unusual smell coming from the kitchen while I dig into my purse for my phone.

  “Hey,” I say, cradling the phone between my chin and my shoulder.

  “Hey yourself.” I can hear the smile in his voice and it makes my toes tingle with little jolts of happiness.

  I grab my bag and peer into the kitchen as I pass, trying not to gag on the smell. “How was your drive?”

  “Long. Yours?”

  “L
onely.” I answer without thinking and instantly wish I could take it back.

  “Yeah,” says Colt. “Lonely sounds right.”

  I pass Veronica, the roommate from hell who is stretched out on the futon, eyes glazed, staring at the TV. “What’s that smell?” I ask her, moving the phone away from my mouth,

  “Huh?” Her eyes focus on me and she wrinkles her forehead in confusion. “I don’t smell anything.”

  Colt’s voice comes rumbling to me through the phone. “What smell?”

  Veronica’s already zoned out on the TV again so I just shake my head and wander back to my bedroom. “The apartment smells funky,” I explain. “Of course, my roommate doesn’t smell anything but that’s probably because it’s coming from her.”

  I flop on my bed while Colt laughs. We spend the rest of the night talking about everything and nothing and it’s not until I head back to the kitchen to make myself a drink that I find the source of the smell.

  “Oh, gross,” I say, interrupting the story I’m telling him about the time I watched a kid tripping his balls off, trying to steal a doorknob because he thought it was a muffin.

  “What’s wrong, sweetness?”

  “There is literally rotting food falling out of the trash can and drying to the floor. How does she live like this?” I pour my drink, trying to decide if I can stand to leave it until tomorrow.

  “The more important question is how can you stand to live like that,” says Colt.

  “I can’t. Not really. But I just keep telling myself it’s only for a few more months and then I’ll be all graduated and hopefully able to find a job that pays me well enough to afford an apartment without the stinky roommate.”

  There’s no way I can go to sleep knowing this mess is in here waiting for me, so I gather the trash up and take it out to the dumpster and then spend the next hour on the phone with Colt scrubbing the floor. By the time I’m done, we’re both stifling yawns, but the smell seems to be gone. We say goodnight and I fall into bed, happy.

  The next few days are a whirlwind of classes and Skype sessions, of sexy texts and, yes, I even talked Colt into sending me a dick pic. A penis that beautiful deserves to be immortalized. Veronica continues her bid for worst roommate in the history of roommates and I swear, she’s going to win by a landslide.

  By the time Friday rolls around, I’m pretty damn exhausted, although my whole being lights up when my phone buzzes with an incoming text from Colt.

  7:26 pm Colt: 762 Cherry Tree Lane

  7:26 pm Colt: Be there in 20

  7:28 pm Nadine: No way, cowboy. I’m pooped.

  7:30 pm Colt: That’s an order, sweetness

  7:32 pm Nadine: Did you forget? I only take orders in bed

  I wait for him to respond, leaning against the wall near the door, afraid to take too deep of a breath in case the smell is back again. When my phone buzzes again, I can’t help but laugh.

  7:39 pm Colt: Tick tock

  Smiling, I pull my coat back on and grab my purse off the hook by the door and plug the address into Google maps. It’s about a ten-minute drive and by now, Colt has my curiosity piqued. The Sentra rattles and bumps its way across the streets and I say a quick prayer to the gods of all things automotive that she lasts me another couple years at least. I so do not have room for a car payment in the budget right now. When I pull up to the address Colt texted me, I find myself in front of a small but quaint house. The porchlight is on, spilling warmth onto the porch. As I climb out of the car, someone stands up from what a porch swing and makes his way down the steps.

  I recognize that swagger instantly and rush up to meet Colt. He wraps me up tight and swings me around before putting me back down and locking his lips to mine. This is no chaste kiss. This is electric, so erotic it’s probably indecent and I worry about the owners of the house looking out and getting a show before I go inside and meet them.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask when I can finally breathe again.

  “I missed you too much to stay away.”

  I lean my head on his shoulder as he leads me up the front steps. “I didn’t know you had friends this close.”

  “I don’t,” he says as we come to a stop in front of the door.

  “Then where are we?”

  “Home.” Colt hands me a key. “Or your home at least. Until you get that job that pays well enough for your own apartment.”

  I stammer out a few random words while I process what he just said.

  “Open the door, love. I’ll explain inside.”

  My hands are trembling, but I manage to get the door unlocked. We step into the house and it’s so cute I don’t know what to do. Small and simple and clean and apparently fully furnished.

  “I don’t understand,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure I understand completely. I just haven’t figure out what the appropriate response is when a man presents you with a house.

  “I can’t stand the thought of you living with the roommate from hell a minute longer. You deserve better than having to scrub the kitchen floor at one o’clock in the morning. Plus, there’s no way I can give you multiple screaming orgasms in a smelly apartment. It’s just not happening, sweetness.”

  “So what’s this?”

  “It’s a house, Nadine,” he says, raising his eyebrows and scanning the living room. He goes on to explain that it’s a rental and that it’s mine until I find something better.

  “I can’t afford this,” I say, stepping back towards the door.

  “You don’t have to. This is on me.”

  This little glimmer of excitement is building up in my belly but I refuse to let it loose yet. I’m still not sure I can let him do something like this for me.

  “All the furniture?” he asks as he takes my hand and leads me into the living room. “That’s yours though. I bought it for you and I know you were raised well enough to know it’s rude to turn down a gift.”

  I stop in my tracks and turn to him, holding out my hands, ready to put up a fight. There’s no way I can accept something like this. Before I can say anything, he puts a finger to my lips.

  “Don’t be rude, Nadine.”

  I stand there, dumbfounded, until that little glimmer of excitement finally takes off like a rocket and I jump up and down, clapping my hands. “Oh my god, thank you!” I manage before I take off through the place, squealing at all the perfect little touches.

  “And here’s the best part,” he says as he leads me into the bedroom. “The bed is big enough for both of us.”

  And with that, he pulls me down on top of him and goes about showing me just how much he missed me. I show my appreciation by having not one, but three screaming orgasms and then falling asleep curled up in his arms. It’s the first time I’ve ever slept beside someone I’ve fucked. The first time I’ve ever stuck around long enough to cuddle in close and drift off to sleep, wrapped up in the warmth of his body. As I cross the line into sleep, I realize that this should be important. That I should pay attention to this thought, only to fall asleep before it makes too much sense.

  The next day we go get my clothes from the stinky apartment and I’m not even sure if Veronica is awake enough to care. He lets me wander the house, exploring all the little bits and pieces of furniture, the matching silverware in the kitchen, glass plates and cups without chips in them. It’s like a real, grown up place to live and just being here sets my soul at ease.

  “I didn’t realize how much living with Veronica was wearing on me,” I say as we fall asleep side by side Saturday night. “Thank you for this. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  He rolls over, nuzzling into my neck, his dick lengthening and hardening against my leg. “Why don’t you start by telling me another one of those fantasies of yours?”

  The weekend passes too quickly, just a little blip of happiness in an otherwise tedious monotony of days. I go to school, I go to work, I study, I call Colt, I go to sleep. Living in this house has been such a blessing. I buy myself tre
ats and don’t have to worry about Veronica eating them and my love of Ben & Jerry’s is putting just a little bit of extra pudge around my middle. I keep telling myself each pint is the last one, but lo and behold, I have a new one waiting in the freezer the very next time I go to the store.

  December marches by in a steady stream of long days and sultry nights. Colt tells me about his ex-wife and all the reasons they didn’t work. Her need for chaos and his need for order. Her need to stay young and his need to grow up. I listen closely, trying to hear the little places where our relationship will stumble and those last words really rock me. Colt wanted to grow up and she didn’t. How long until he realizes that I have a lot of growing up to do? How long before the nineteen years that separate us become big enough that they actually separate us?

  I keep my fears to myself though. What good would it do to bring it to his attention now? He’d laugh and tell me I was silly, then ask me a dirty question and tell me to put my hand between my legs and make myself come. And I’d do it because he’s right. Worrying about all that is pointless because now? Things are good. I’m talking, like, sappy Hallmark card kind of good. The only way things could get better is if I didn’t have to wait so long to see him. He shows up most weekends, using his copy of the key to let himself in and make himself at home.

  Somewhere along the way, I fall in love with Colt. Somewhere along the way, I stop caring about sex and power and who’s in control. When we’re together, all I care about is us. I want to make him as happy as he makes me. I want him to feel as special and wonderful as he makes me feel. The only time I’m complete is when I’m with him and that should scare the ever-living shit out of me but it doesn’t. It makes me smile. It makes me think that we were made for each other, our lives forging us so that we were the perfect matching pair. I have new fantasies now. They’ve expanded out of the bedroom and swirl around us laughing in the kitchen as we cook meals together. Waking up in a tangle of sheets and limbs, his scent a permanent feature in my bed. Growing closer with each passing year. My fantasies include a diamond ring and promise of forever, even as I know that he doesn’t believe in marriage anymore.