The song was sex to lyrics. Fuck, if I could have had Blondie anywhere else when that song came on, clothes would have been an after-thought and I would have been deep inside of her by the time the first verse started. Instead, I had to settle for a grinding session on a dance floor with too many people around for my liking.

By the time the song was halfway through, I was near certain we were dry fucking out on the dance floor for everyone to see. I didn't give a shit because if I had my way, this girl would be going home with me tonight.

My hands moved to her sweet smelling, dainty neck and just as she turned her head, I took my opportunity to crash my mouth down to hers, thrusting my tongue between those delicately soft, pink lips she possessed. She didn't object, opening her mouth just a tad bit more to give me all the space that I needed. The minty freshness coming off of her tongue excited me much like the vanilla scent had done earlier. My tequila and beer breath couldn't have been doing much for her, but if she didn’t like it, she wasn't showing it.

Just as our kiss was intensifying, her tongue matching my own thrust for thrust, and she was turning her body around to stand face to face with me, Jensen came barreling into me, almost knocking both me and Blondie over. We broke from our kiss and I turned to him, wild fury in my eyes, hoping he had a good excuse for his cock block.

"We have to go. Now! Newsome got into a fight and the cops were called. We have to get him out of here."

"Fuck," I shouted, annoyed and concerned at the same time. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you later, but we need to get him out of here," Jensen said, urgency completely taking over his voice. He was always very by the book and knew that Newsome would be in a world of trouble on Monday if he were to get into any sort of tangle with the cops.

"Hold on a sec," I shouted over all of the commotion.

"No! We have to go now."

Annoyance pelted me, sending flushes of red over my sweat slicked skin, but Newsome was my brother, so there was no way I was going to leave him hanging. I'd just have to hook up with Blondie another time. Unfortunately, when I turned around, she was gone. I looked all around the bar, hoping she had only stepped away from a very intense Jensen, but that wasn't the case. I couldn’t even find her friend. As disappointment pierced through me, I ran out of the bar with Jensen, hopping into the backseat of Riley's truck. Newsome had a couple of marks on his face, but nothing too bad that would have to be explained on Monday morning. Just as we were pulling out of the back entry way, the cop lights and sirens came blaring through the front.

Driving into the dark, deserted desert before us, I breathed a sigh of relief that we had just missed them, but got pissed all over again that I had also missed out on Blondie. 

Chapter 2

Cassie


What a night. My first weekend in Twentynine had been more exciting than I ever imagined it could be. Sure, this place was in the middle of nowhere with cactus and bushes stretching out as far as the eye could see, but the excitement felt at that bar on Friday night had me almost bursting at the seams. If that encounter was any indication of what the next six weeks held, I was more than ready to move things along.

I had never done anything like that. No, usually that sort of behavior was reserved for my friends, back home. They knew what they wanted and made sure to go after it. I normally knew what I wanted, but stewed on the sidelines, hoping it would come to me instead. I guess hanging out with Angelica, and watching her flaunt everything she had, made me want to break free from my usual confines.

I'd noticed that hot as sin guy sitting there, nursing his beer, and apparently she had too. I thought for sure when she found her way over to him that I’d missed my chance, but apparently he was eyeing me, so when I saw my opportunity I threw caution to the wind and pounced.

Only now, I have no clue who he is, where he is, or how to get in touch with him. That kiss seared me, in all of its luscious tequila and beer filled glory. Those soft, full lips crashing down on mine, his strong and aggressive tongue overpowering my own, claiming me out on that dance floor... it excited me in ways that I had never experienced before.

 I felt his erection growing and noticed the twitch when I rubbed against him, he wanted me, and even if I were going against my rational thinking mind, I wanted him too. If his kiss and the aggressiveness of it were any indication of what he could do to me in bed, I was definitely willing to test him out.

Unfortunately, because his friend was a drunken dipshit, he had to run out of there before we could exchange names.

Damn!

My sole regret from that night.

I was certain that he was a Marine. We were stuck in a military town, and if the low haircut, his clean shaven face, and well put together ensemble were any indication, he had been in for a while. Of course, he was stationed at the base here, but honestly, how easy would it be to find him?           Not easy at all. Not with thousands of Marines walking around.

"You ready for this?" Angelica asked in a rather curt tone. We had only met one another a few days ago—that Friday, in fact. She was my barracks roommate, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad bit intimidated by her when I first saw her. She was gorgeous; tall and curvy, with beautiful golden skin, and hair from the shampoo commercials. She looked model worthy, with Marine Corps confidence to go along with it.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied with a smile.

Angelica was pissed at me from Friday, her Latin temper flying off of her tongue as she chided me, crying about how she'd seen that guy first and how I'd snuck in and stolen him away. But I hadn’t. He seemed to have chosen me. Plain and simple.

Standing in front of the mirror, brushing my long, blonde hair back and laboriously working it into a sleek bun, I added a light spritz of hairspray to tame the loose strands, then grabbed my cover, or the Marine Corps equivalent of a cap. Angelica finished up whatever she was doing and made her way to her side of the room and threw on her blouse, then we walked out the door.

Standing in formation, the scalding heat from the desert morning was hitting my face, making me painfully aware that we were, in fact, stuck in this poor excuse for a town for the next six weeks. I stood next to Angelica, waiting to get our day started.

I was ready.

Going through thirteen weeks of hell for bootcamp, four weeks of combat training, and now finally Military Occupational School—MOS school— I was now one step closer to becoming a fleet Marine.

"Attention!" a female voice called out, prompting all of us to stand rigid and erect. Nerves began swirling around inside of me as the next chapter was slated to begin. This dream of mine was finally becoming a reality.

I’d dreamed of becoming a Marine ever since I screwed myself out of college. When my mom came down on me, telling me how much of a disappointment I was to her, and how I would never amount to anything, I took that as a challenge and set my sights on becoming one of the best. Even then, she told me that I’d never make it; that it would be too hard, and I would quit.

But I didn't quit.

I proved her wrong every step of the way, and now there was only six weeks until I was out of school. Then I’d be able to finally flip her my pretty little middle finger while smiling and telling her, "I told you so."

"At ease," the woman said, striding out front and center. "I am Sgt. Castillo," she belted out, her cold, dark eyes scanning the rows of students standing before her. "I work in the admin section here at Comm School. Any and all paperwork will go through my section. If you need something, let your instructors know and they will get it taken care of for you."

She was a short Hispanic woman—young, probably slightly older than me, but had obviously joined straight out of high school. The confidence she exuded while speaking to a group of new Marines who towered over her was on par with what I had grown accustomed to in bootcamp. It was remarkable.

"I'm turning you over to your instructors now. Welcome to Twentynine," Castillo said, making a sharp turn and walking away from the formation.

Standing there waiting, even if it was only 7AM, was torture in the morning heat. Fire bearing rays raced down from the sun and connected with my long, thick cotton cammies, inducing a sweat worthy of an intense workout session. And I hadn't even exerted an ounce of energy.

 A tall, slender man walked out, followed by two other males. They took their spots in front of the formation, glaring ravenous eyes at us all as if they were ready to pounce and eat us for breakfast. I had been warned that even though we'd made it through bootcamp and were now Marines, to the veterans we were still a bunch of nobodies.

    "Attention!" he barked out, his low, gruff voice startling me out of my sweating pity party. I swallowed and stood straight, looking forward but at no one in particular.

"I am Sergeant Newsome, one of your instructors here at Comm School, and this is Sergeant Jensen and Sergeant Cruz," he said, pointing to the two men behind him. The rest of whatever he said fell on deaf ears as I fixed my eyes on the two accompanying instructors, instantly recognizing them as the two guys from the bar on Friday night. My heart sank and a heavy, throbbing lump lodged in my throat, making me stifle a choke as I immediately remembered that Cruz--now that I knew his name--was my bump and grind, tongue twirling, lip smacking partner from that excitement filled night.