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“Nothing happened to Chelsea. She’s acting like herself. That’s the problem. She’s always been someone else. Now that she’s trying to be herself, she’s suddenly not good enough.”
“No one is saying that,” O’Reilly asserts.
“Aren’t they?”
My boss shrugs. “Maybe they are. I don’t know the woman, but I think you do.”
“What’s your point, Commander?”
“There is no point. I just want the best man on the job, and right now, that seems to be you.”
“You need someone Chelsea listens to. That isn’t me. Now, unless you’re ordering me to return to Knot Corp., I’ll ask to be dismissed to my men.”
“Your team’s status is still listed as deployed and will remain that way until this meeting happens. I suggest you remain ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
I stand and come to attention, but I don’t know what I need to be ready for. “Yes, sir.”
The commander dismisses me, but when I exit HQ, all my men are gone. No surprise there. With our status being what it is, we don’t have any workup or support assignments. They’ve all gone to be with their families, those who have them. I go home to my dog.
Captain is happy to see me as she is each time I walk through the door. I’ve neglected the poor boxer lately, so I change and pack us up for the beach. Captain loves catching frisbees in the surf, and I could use the time away from everything.
Captain runs and plays like a pup until my arm screams from throwing the disk. I plop onto the sand, pull a beer from the small cooler, and set up a bowl for Captain. She slurps and splashes the cold water until flopping onto the sand beside me. “You’re my best girl, Captain. Why can’t all women be uncomplicated like you?”
I pat her head and take a long pull of the beer. “I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do? There’s no winning here. Everything I try works for a while, then blows up in my face.”
She ignores the question and me, content to watch a group of gulls nearby. “Figures.”
Since I get no help from my dog or the sea, I pack up to go home. Dinner is an underwhelming roast beef sandwich eaten in front of the TV. I take a long, hot shower and go to bed early instead of moping around the house.
Lying in the dark later, I give up on going to sleep. I’ve tortured myself by replaying that night in Spain. Chelsea could have run to Fish, and I wouldn’t have touched her. She ran to me instead, knowing what would happen.
I get lost remembering the way she submitted to me, her passion. My reaction to even her memory is too strong to resist. I pull my dick out of my shorts and squeeze. Chelsea’s whimpers and moans as I feasted on her still vibrate my chest. Her nails still rasp over my scalp as they did when I claimed her body and soul. As her memory demands more space in my head, I squeeze harder and pump faster until cum spurts all over my stomach.
The manufactured orgasm hollows me out, and I’m left wrecked, just like I was this morning.
The next day passes much the same except that instead of the beach, I spend the evening prowling the SEAL bar, hoping Bastien might show up. Of course, I could have called him, but I didn’t want it to look like I was desperate for company.
He hasn’t shown up by eight, so I call my new best friend.
“What’s up, Dad?”
“I was just… Are you busy?”
“Not particularly. Want me to come over?”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
Twenty minutes later, Caleb walks into the bar and slides into the booth opposite me. “You look like shit.”
“Please. Don’t hold back on my account.”
Caleb laughs. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need your help.”
The playfulness on Caleb’s face dries up instantly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just need… These women you read about.”