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CHAPTER ONE
MAC
I am sitting at the bar drinking a slightly too warm bottle of beer. Even though the beer isn’t ice cold, it tastes like perfection. Being out in the middle of nowhere on a special ops assignment will definitely make you appreciate the little things in life. Even when they’re not as good as you remember them to be.
It’s kind of like Mission Beach. In my head, I remembered it differently than what it actually is. I remembered it as home, not real home, but somewhere I had happy memories. My mom used to bring me here every summer for a week, and some of my happiest memories were here. But can a place be home when you’re there all alone? Can it be home for Mac Kramer when no one here even knows his name?
Maybe not. The place is like a breeding ground for surfers, tourists, and students. I reckon I’ll be leaving here pretty soon even if I’m not called back to active duty before my time in the military is up.
I sigh loudly and turn on my barstool and scan the crowd. I hear a musical laugh, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the owner of that laugh. My cock stiffens in my jeans just looking at her. If all of the girls in Mission Beach were like her, I’d never ever want to leave the place. She has long blonde hair that hangs down her back in beach-ready waves. Sun-bleached streaks shine in the light. She’s clearly into surfing, judging by the short shorts and vest top she wears and the way the muscles in her fucking awesome legs are so toned. Her whole body is tanned, and I wonder where the tan lines are.
It’s not something to wonder in a public place because I instantly see myself tearing off that little top and throwing it away, taking in her breasts and pink nipples. I see myself pushing her shorts down and fucking her until she’s screaming my name. My cock gets harder, reminding me I’m in the middle of a bar. I pull at my shirt, covering my lap with it.
The girl looks across the room, and for a second, our eyes meet. I feel a jolt of lust run through me as I look into her eyes. They are the blue of tropical seas, and they have a certain twinkle in them that tells me she’s a little bit naughty. I bet she fucking is. And if she isn’t, I could soon show her exactly how to break the rules.
She smiles at me, and I nod in her direction, forcing my eyes from her body. Now she’s seen me looking at her, I can’t get caught again. She’ll think I’m some sort of pervert. For her, I could be. I could be anything she wanted me to be and then some.
I try to tell myself it’s because I haven’t had a woman in the eight months I’ve been away, but I know it’s not that. There’s something about the girl. Something mesmerizing. Something that tells me she’s exactly what I need to get myself out of this funk and give my life some sort of purpose outside of the military.
I signed up to the military on my eighteenth birthday. Anything to get out of that foster home. My mom raised me alone until I was fifteen and the big C took her. And then I went into the system. I ended up being placed with a family fairly quickly, and I stayed there until I was old enough to leave. It wasn’t that they were mean or abusive. They were the opposite. Warm and kind. They made me feel welcome, loved even, and I am so grateful to them for that. But it was hard to stay there and not love them back. And anytime I felt the slightest hint of love for them, I felt such terrible guilt. My mom was gone, and here I was moving on. Yeah, I know it’s crazy and not what my mom would have wanted, but I couldn’t help feeling it. Maybe I should have had therapy. I definitely should have had therapy.
My eyes go back to Blondie, and I reckon those long legs of hers wrapped tightly around my waist while I claim her pussy would be all the therapy I’d need. She’d sure as hell make me forget everything except her slender body and pert breasts. I’d be willing to bet that her pussy would be tight enough to squeeze my cock to within an inch of its life.
She’s turned away from me now, and I watch her for a minute longer. She’s sitting at a small table tucked away in the back of the bar. She should be on the fucking stage, not hiding herself away like that. She seems to be alone, the girl she was laughing with a moment ago gone. She runs her hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. I feel another twitch from my cock. I want my hands in her hair. I want to grab handfuls of it, pull it, force her to her knees where she’ll suck me dry. And then I want to ruin her. To fuck her so hard and for so long she won’t know which way is up when I’m done with her.
