Read Perfect Soldier: The Complete Story (5-Part BBW Military Romance Novel) Online
Authors: Haley Nix
Perfect Soldier: The Complete Story (5-Part BBW Military Romance Novel)
Information
Copyright
© 2014 By Haley Nix
Perfect
Soldier: The Complete Story
is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, incidents and events are the products of the author’s
imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All
rights reserved. This book or portions thereof may not be reproduced, scanned,
or distributed in any form whatsoever without direct permission from the
author.
This
book is intended
Only for Mature Audiences 18+.
It contains mature
themes, substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be
considered offensive by some readers.
Chapter
One
Catherine
The professor droned on and on, talking about myelin
sheaths, synapses, and nerve endings. Blah, blah, blah. It’s not that I was
necessarily bored with the material, but my mind had already drifted to other
things:
Would it be a late night at work? Would I be able to beat the
traffic that was waiting for me outside? How was I going to get the money for
next semester’s tuition?
I sat at the back of the class, as usual, since I
was forced to leave early. My shift started in about an hour, and even in
perfect traffic conditions it would take at least twenty minutes to get to the
bar. With about forty minutes until 8:00 P.M. I started to slowly gather my
things: pens, notebook, laptop, biology textbook, and put them in my book bag.
The professor noticed and looked up at me, giving a
disapproving eye and shake of his head. He never called me out, fortunately,
but I could tell he was annoyed whenever I left before his lecture was
finished. I knew he expected dedication from his students and wanted everyone
to take his classes seriously. But the fact is that I’m in a much different
situation than most of these students.
First off, I’m 27 years old – much older than the
itty-bitty, skinny, baby-faced 19-year-olds that inhabited the class. Secondly,
I was putting myself through school, not getting any help from my parents. If I
didn’t leave class early to get to my job on time, there would be no classes
for me next semester. As it was, I was struggling to cover the tuition bill.
A lot of people wondered why I was going back to
school in the first place, since I had a job and all. I can’t tell you how many
people told me I was wasting my money, that I should save my paycheck instead
of blowing it on the high tuition at the local college. Everyone thought I
should settle down, find a nice man to take care of me and live happily ever
after. Nice dream, right?
And that’s exactly what it seemed like to me: a
dream, a fantasy. I’d practically given up on men at this point. By all
appearances, I’d given up on the idea of love, too. Trust me, when you’re a
female bartender, especially one with the curves I have, you get all the wrong
kinds of attention from men. After a while, it can really turn you off to the
whole idea of spending your life with one.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I was going
back to school because I was sick of my job as a bartender. I wanted to be a
veterinarian, but I knew that it would take several more years of classes to
get to that point. Ultimately, I knew it was a long shot, a
very
long
shot. But what’s life if you don’t take a long shot now and then? Besides, it
kept me busy, and even if sometimes I regretted not having much time to relax,
I liked my classes and had faith that all my hard work would eventually pay
off.
Stuffing my last few things into my backpack, I got
up from my desk at the back of the room in one silent motion and exited the
classroom. My heart always pounded during those short seconds, knowing that
everyone in the class was staring back at me as I walked out, the one girl
leaving before everyone else. But I’d done it a thousand times and once I’d
shut the door behind me I took a deep breath and walked down the quiet, empty
hallways of Keller Hall, the biology department building.
I pushed my way through the large, mahogany doors
and out into the cold night air. Winter was definitely upon us. Ugh, I shook my
head, thinking to myself that winter meant the end of the fall semester, which
meant finals, something that I was nowhere near prepared for. Granted, I was
only taking two classes, Intro Biology and a Chemistry class, but on top of my
job they would be absolute hell to study for. Maybe I could look into taking
some time off from work to study. Ha,
yeah right
, I thought to myself. I
needed the extra money. Taking time off didn’t even seem remotely possible now
that I thought about it more seriously.
My car was parked in the parking lot south of campus
tonight, since the one closest to Keller Hall had no empty spaces when I’d
shown up for class. As soon as I remembered this, I started to walk faster.
This was almost a guarantee that I’d be late for work tonight. That fact alone
didn’t matter too much. The bar was never really crowded at 8:00 P.M., but my
boss ran a tight schedule and I knew he’d have harsh words for me if I showed
up late again. It really bothered me sometimes that he couldn’t be more
understanding, but it was a fact of life and I’d just have to deal with it.
When I got to my car, it was 7:35 P.M. – damn, I was
really pushing it. I said a silent prayer that traffic would be thin, but I
knew I’d have to speed if I had any chance of making it on time. The car was
cold and the engine took a second longer than usual to turn. I made a mental
note to get a tune-up before winter set in – yet another expense I would have
to add to my long list of bills. I turned on my left blinker and pulled out of
the parking lot, stepping heavily on the gas pedal as I drove through the roads
of the college town, making my way towards the highway that would bring me to
the bar.
I drove up the on-ramp and signaled, looking in my
rearview mirror before merging onto the highway. It was somewhat dead tonight,
so at least I had traffic on my side. I pushed down on the gas pedal, bringing
my little Honda Civic up to 75 MPH, then 80 MPH, and finally to 85 MPH. I kept
it around there for a bit, satisfied that at this rate I could actually make it
to the bar in time to change into my work clothes and maybe put on a fresh coat
of make-up. I tapped my hand on the dashboard, as if to thank it.
My trusty
little Civic
, I thought to myself, and laughed.
About a mile away from the exit to the bar, I heard
my phone buzz from where it sat in the passenger seat. I reached over to grab
it and punched in my security code. Text from Amanda, wanting to know if I was
watching
The Bachelor
tonight.
Uh, yeah right, I’m at work until 1
A.M
. I tossed the phone back into the passenger seat without even
responding. Then I looked into my rearview mirror to see flashing blue lights
in the darkness behind me. Then I heard the sound of sirens.
My heart raced. I looked down at my speedometer: I
was currently going 90 MPH. Dammit. No, this couldn’t be happening.
Please,
no, not right now
. This was absolutely the last thing I needed. I pulled my
car over to the side of the road, a lump forming in my throat as I undid my
seatbelt and reached over to my glove box to grab the registration.
I looked back in my rearview mirror again to see the
doors of the police car open, the bright headlights obscuring my view as the
officer walked over to my window. I closed my eyes and said another silent
prayer as I waited to hear the fateful knock on the window of my car door.
Chapter
Two
Catherine
I drove away twenty minutes later, with a $150
ticket and an admonishment from the officer that I had better drive
much
slower
in the future. There go all my tips from tonight, I thought to myself. In
reality, I had gotten off somewhat lucky. I could have had multiple points taken
off my license for going at such a “dangerous” speed. Lucky, ha. Now I was
definitely late for work, a night of work that would barely help me break even
with the ticket I’d just received.
What was worse than the ticket was the wrath I was
likely to incur from my boss. I’d been late way too frequently recently, so I
knew he’d definitely be yelling at me in the backroom, telling me I had a
responsibility to show up on time and that if I couldn’t do that I’d better
start looking for another job. That was something I couldn’t bear to think
about right now. Finding another job on short notice, especially in this
economy, was no certain thing. I had bills to pay, after all.
I parked my car in the back lot of the bar, going in
quickly and quietly through the service entrance. I found my way to the
bathroom and changed in a hurry. The clothes I wore at work were, how shall I
say it, a bit less “professional” than what I wore to my classes. Low cut tops
were the norm; showing a little cleavage, combined with a healthy dose of
flirtation, was a surefire way to bump up my nightly tip count. I checked
myself out in the mirror, adjusting here and adjusting there. Fortunately, my
makeup was good for the most part. I just decided to briefly touch up my
lipstick.
I left the bathroom and put my bag in the employee
storage area, then took a deep breath and walked out into the bar to face my
boss, already playing in my head the mean, grating words I knew were in store
for me. Pushing through the swinging door and out into the dimly lit bar, I
braced myself for the worst, but to my surprise was met with Ellie’s smiling
face.
“You are so damn lucky, Cat,” she said, taking some
dirty pint glasses back to the dishwasher.
“Huh?”
“Mike isn’t here tonight. He’s sick, got the flu or
something.”
“You… are… kidding,” I said.
“Nope. You lucked out for once. But I’m glad you’re
here, we’re actually busier than I expected tonight. Those three over at the
end of the bar need refills.”
“Gotcha,” I said, opening the door so she could go
through with the dirty glasses more easily.
I felt a smile unfolding across my face. I was
lucky. Sure, I’d gotten a
freaking ticket
, but at least my boss wasn’t
here to add insult to injury. And if Ellie was right, and it was busy tonight,
maybe I’d be able to make that money back after all. Time to turn on the good
old southern charm and flirtation, which wouldn’t be too hard. My spirits were
high right now, happy that a little luck had fallen my way on an otherwise
stressful night.
Over at the end of the bar sat the men Ellie had
been referring to, glasses empty, looking expectantly in my direction. One of
the men in the group gave me a nod and a wink. I walked over with a big smile
and asked for their orders.
“Looks like you boys need refills. What are you drinkin’
tonight?” I asked, adding a little more southern twang than was natural to my
voice.
“Knob Creek all around. Make ’em doubles,” said one
of the men, reaching towards me with his credit card.
“Top shelf, eh? You boys are some big spenders,” I
said with a polite little laugh and a wink. It was all part of the charade.
“Hell yeah!” said the man handing me the credit
card.
“Hey, if he’s payin’ I’m gonna get a Bud on the
side,” said the man to his left, slapping the first guy on the back, putting
him in something of a playful headlock.
“Actually, yeah, Buds on the side for all three of
us. I don’t mind – we’re celebrating after all.”
I grabbed the bottle of Knob Creek from the mirrored
shelf behind me and set down three rocks glasses in front of them on the bar.
“What are y’all celebrating?” I asked, before I
started my pour. “Anyone want ice?”
“We’re soldiers, miss. We’ll take them all neat.”
“Well, I can respect that,” I said, flashing the
smile once again. “No need to water down good bourbon.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
The men took their glasses and raised them in the
air.
“Here’s to a few months of much needed rest,” said
the first man.
They touched glasses, and then all took a big gulp.
The third man in the group, who had yet to speak, took his down all in one
shot. The first man pounded the bar.
“Damn, that bites good,” he said, taking a sip of
the Bud to wash it down and ease the burning sensation of the bourbon.
I walked away to serve another customer, but was
careful to keep an eye on them, in case they needed a refill. Each of the men
was devilishly handsome, I don’t know what it was about military men, but I’d
always had a sort of fascination with them. They were disciplined and strong,
confident and sure of themselves.
The third man in the group, the one who hadn’t
spoken, had piqued my interest considerably. He seemed slightly taller than the
other two, with light, brown hair, cropped short of course. His face was
chiseled, with the perfect amount of scruff on his sharp cheekbones. His skin,
like that of the other men, was quite tan, especially for this time of year.
This made me suspect that they had all just come back from somewhere in the
Middle East, though I was a bit shy to ask, at least right now.
The man looked over as I was staring at him and
caught my eye. I smiled, then looked down at the ground shyly. I was good at
putting on a certain air with customers, a confident flirtatiousness that
seemed to charm most of the men. But for some strange reason I could only do it
when I wasn’t legitimately attracted to the guys. This handsome man staring at
me now made me feel awkward, nervous and slightly tongue-tied, but in a good
way, if that makes any sense.
I stood there idly, leaning on the bar and
daydreaming just a bit. I’d given up on men, you probably remember me saying
earlier, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have desires sometimes. Of course I
liked a good ravaging now and again, a playful little romp in the sheets with a
powerful man, the bliss of orgasm, and the pleasure of sleeping with someone in
bed next to me. But frankly I didn’t have time for all the drama that went
along with that, and I’m not the type of girl who will do a one night stand.
So naturally, daydreaming was about all I had right
now. Work and school took up most of my time anyway. But I was more or less
content with my fantasies, touching myself late night in my bed, or in the
shower as I got ready for work. But it was times like this, times when I saw a
guy who really turned me on, that I wanted something more, a connection of some
kind, both mental and physical.
I was careful to keep an eye on their glasses, ready
for any chance that came up to go over and talk to those soldiers some more.
Sure, I was nervous, but I kind of liked feeling butterflies again. What a gorgeous
man, I thought to myself.
I wonder how long he’s in town for
.