Page 13 of Soaring and Saucy

The martinis.

The rushed marriage to get her into bed, followed by flashes of them during intimate moments. He remembered pulling her panties off of her with his teeth and that delightful gasp. Those memories went from a very ‘good-sorta-bad’ moments… to ‘earth-shattering-really-great-bad-boy’ moments.

He was a wild guy in the sack, but his ‘wife’ wasn’t opposed to letting go with him in the slightest. He remembered several breathless moans of carnal delight followed by her waterfall of hair over his face as they…

His eyes shot wide open.

Ohhh nooo…

Lance didn’t move a muscle as his eyes darted around the hotel room in horror, looking for the tell-tale signs of a ‘really good time.’ A little noise escaped him as he remembered every detail of what happened last night, from the keg stand to saying ‘I do,’ to making love to his new wife several times… without protection.

There were no wrappers on the bed or beside the bed, nothing. In fact, there were no used condoms anywhere. He didn’t remember putting one on while making love to the woman who was lying beside him, asleep.

Crap – what was her name?

Sally? Sunny? Stephanie?

Stephanie! I think that is right…

Oh my gosh, how could I have messed up this badly? I can’t be married to some stranger. Heck, I love ‘em and leave ‘em – I never marry them!

The longer Lance lay there, the more panicked he felt. His stomach was churning, and he was really concerned he was going to puke in the bed. Slowly, he plucked her hand off his chest and heard her faint, groggy protest.

“Shhh, babe, it’s okay. I’m going to the bathroom. Sleep,” he whispered, hoping that his voice didn’t warble or sound as high-pitched as the panicked shriek within him was.

Honestly, he was afraid to call the woman by name because while he thought Stephanie was right – he wasn’t sure – and he really didn’t want to throw an entire tanker of fuel on an already destructive situation.

Pulling back the sheets gingerly, he cursed silently at the evidence before him. Oh yeah, none of this was a dream. The sheets were stained, and he desperately needed a shower – but not here. No, right now, he needed to get his things together and run like hell so he could think of how to get out of this mess.

She was sweet, or at least that was what he remembered. Maybe he could visit the JAG office and file for a divorce or catch Pasteur before he did any of the paperwork. Surely, this wouldn’t hold up in a court of law – would it?

Stepping over his wrinkled uniform, her clothing, and their shoes, he tiptoed into the bathroom to pull himself together. Sure enough, there on the counter were three cosmetic bags of varying sizes.

Her friends.

“Ohhh gosh…” he whispered in a wail and put his fingers in his hair as he sat down on the toilet, feeling nauseous.

Did they show up?

He didn’t sleep with them, too, did he?

His legs, stomach, and other things ached in what would be normally a very satisfying awareness – except this time he wasn’t so confident of what he’d done.

“No… there’s no way. I couldn’t have because I remember her, not them.”

And shivered.

He wouldn’t have slept with those two friends using Shellac’s junk, much less his own. Those two women were a couple of tramps that probably had some disease or…

Oh noooo! Could I have gotten a disease from Stephanie? No wait, she was a virgin – or at least from what I remember she was. I was clean according to my last check… and immediately inspected his junk.

Nope. I’m good, he sighed, breathing a sigh of relief and nervously laughed at his own foolishness. Maybe this was the wake-up call he needed?

Yeah, he needed to get out of here, put this behind him, and get this whole mess straighten out before Stephanie awoke and started using the whole slew of words that made him antsy.

“Lance?”

His eyes shot up to the door in a panic, heart slamming on his rib cage. Usually, he was out of here before morning, but not this time. This time, he was trapped like a rat in a cage.

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