“Not yet,” I answer before turning to the pretty blonde. “You first.”
“Why should I tell you my call sign?” she asks. Her voice is a throaty alto, and it sends chills up my spine and then straight down through my cock.
“You already know my name and what I do,” I tell her. “I don’t know what to call you.”
“Maybe you won’t be calling me at all,” she says quietly, and I’ll admit that stings a bit, but I deserve no less. And I can take it. “And actually, I don’t know what you do. I know what you said you did and we’ve already established that that was a lie.”
“Ouch,” I wince.
“So…”
“We’ll see about the phone call,” I reply, redirecting us back to the topic at hand, because I’m not ready to let go of the idea that this woman will be mine for any length of time yet. “I bet I can convince you to give me your number.
“So what do you actually do?” she asks me.
“What is it you think I do?” I reply and wonder what her first impression of me was. I can use a little ego stroke from time to time.
“Well,” she starts. “The polo shirt, shorts, and sandals are a dead giveaway for sailors.”
“Good guess.”
“You have a great body,” she blurts out and then flushes a pretty pink again. “But your tan isn’t fake enough to be a gym rat. And that giant ass watch on your wrist says diver or SEAL. My money is on SEAL because you have a cock-of-the-walk air about you so… how close am I?”
“Alarmingly accurate,” I laugh. “Now what’s your callsign?”
“I didn’t say I would tell you,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously.
“If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”
“If you tell me your callsign, I’ll tell you what you can call me,” she says. She’s quick. She’s also baiting me into a trap but that’s all right. I can take that too.
I think about it for a minute and then nod my head and answer, “I’ll take it.”
“So… what do they call you?”
“Tarzan,” I answer immediately.
“You’re lying.” She laughs, rolling her eyes. She thinks I’m so predictable. Just an asshole out to get his dick wet and while that description could apply from time to time it most definitely does not now.
“I am not.” I lean around her and call out to Sean. “Hey, Tube!”
“Yeah?” he shouts back from across the bar.
“What do they call me in the unit?” I yell back and his eyes go wide. I know why. It’s because it’s embarrassing as hell and he thinks that if I share that now it’s going to kill any game I had left with my pretty pilot. But I need to prove to her that I’m more than what she thinks I am.
“You really want all these people to know?” He laughs. “You must be desperate.”
“I am,” I call back. “Just say it!”
“Okay, Tarzan!” He cackles. “It’s your funeral.”
“Stop it.” She laughs. Tears of glee fill her eyes, because it really is an awful callsign, as they usually tend to be.
“You’re kidding me.” Cinco chuckles. “That’s terrible.”
“So what did you do to earn that?” Hooter asks me.
“Uhn uhh,” I say, shaking my head and looking at the blonde. “You first. A deal’s a deal.”
