Page 61 of Commander in Briefs

After the tenth time of turning over in bed, I’m done. Fuck it. Sleep is not in the cards for me tonight.

Ans is curled on her side, her hair a mess of tangles on the pillow. She looks serene with a half-smile on her face. I place a whisper of a kiss on her forehead, careful not to wake her. With great technique, I’m able to maneuver out of bed without being caught. She would certainly shove a pill in my face if she discovered me up at this hour.

My apartment is cold, that’s not unusual though. It always feels cold to me, and not just the temperature. It’s not my home. It doesn’t feel like I belong here.

I press the button on the electronic thermostat and turn up the air just a little. Maybe if Ans gets too hot she will come out of some clothes. Mmmm.Great idea, Theo.

I smile with the pornographic thoughts that come to mind as I make my way to the kitchen in search of a cup of coffee. I know, I know. I should drink some of that sleepy tea or some shit Ans forces down Cade, but as much as Ans thinks she runs me, she doesn’t. That’s why I am going to take this cup of coffee and savor it outside. Where she can’t smell it. Or find me drinking it.

The Keurig spits out my coffee entirely too loud for what I paid for the stupid thing. One would think if you spent over a hundred dollars for something that brews one cup of coffee at a time that it could do so in complete damn silence.

I grab my cup and silently turn off the alarm to the balcony doors—the Keurig could learn something here—and literally sprint outside before any smell can be detected by Ans’ killer sense of smell.

The air is crisp, not as humid as it usually is. The night silent with only the faint sounds of sparse traffic traveling by and the garden fountain below me bubbling, the running water not enough to lull me back to a sleepy state. I miss the plantation. Shit. I miss Georgia, period.

I sip slowly, reclining in a deck chair, allowing the scalding coffee to return my brain back to a pre-zombie state. I hate it black. I would rather pile spoonful after spoonful of sugar and cream into it but no, it’s not good for me. No sugar they tell me, no carbs. I’m so fucking sick of being told what I can eat I could scream. At least Ans lets me cheat. I mean, she will run the hell out of me afterward but it sure tastes good going down. Not so great coming up.

Speaking of tasting… Cade has really been cramping my Ans’ time. It’s like we have this newborn or something that we have to care for.

“He needs to rest.”

“He needs to eat.”

“He needs some time with me.”

“He needs me.”

What he needs is a swift kick in the ass, down the road to a local shelter that deals with this shit. Not in my house and not with my damn girl.

Hate brews in my gut as I glare out at the city I loathe. I hate this apartment. I hate this job. I hate this town. I hate my diet. I hate everything!

Okay, so not really, but let me have this pity party. I’m tired. Ans is leaving this afternoon and I’m on the roster to start. I don’t know why she can’t stay for the game. Her bullshit excuse that Cade’s had too much is stupid. He doesn’t need to be back to his routine. He’s not a fucking baby.

Gah! It’s so frustrating. I just want her back. I want her all to myself. Fuck Cade. Thanks for serving our country and fighting for my freedom. Let me make a donation in your honor that will get you some help and out of my damn house.

Angry and pissed at the current situation, I tug at my hair almost violently. I shouldn’t be up. I should be asleep, not thinking about this shit. But as karma would have me, bent over and taking it up the ass, here I am once again. Fucked.

My aggravation is overwhelming as I chug the last few sips, the caffeine coursing through me. Out of the chair, I lunge for the railing and start to pace, feeling like a caged animal.

It’s a long fall, more than enough to put me on the disabled list. I’m joking. Geeze. Leaning over, allowing the blood to surge to my temples, I let gravity take over as I stare out at open air below me. It hurts, the blood pounding against my temples, but the pain dulls the sensitive feelings churning inside me and that’s what I need at the moment. An escape from reality.

The rollers on the door screech as they move. I keep still like a ninja while still hanging over the balcony rail. Maybe whoever it is will realize I am having a meltdown and let me self-destruct alone. Spare me some dignity.

“Theo?”

Ah, the voice that haunts my every thought. The whole reason I’m out here.

“Can’t sleep?”

I hear the soft pads of her feet cross the patio before she circles my waist, slipping her small hands under my t-shirt. The featherlike feel of her fingertips as she grazes the trail of muscle down my stomach sends tingles up my spine. Why? Why does one woman have so much control over me? Why can’t I fuck other girls and be happy? Why must I endure this bullshit with Cade?

Because when she breathes along the back of my neck, my dick hard, pressing against my stomach painfully, my body alive with excitement, I know all too well this feeling. This chemical feeling is none other than good old-fashioned love.

I love Anniston McCallister and there is nothing I can do about it.

When I don’t answer her earlier question, she pulls me closer, rougher. One more feather kiss to the neck is my undoing.

I push off the railing, spinning around, the pounding in my head amplifying with the abrupt movement, and clutch the back of her neck, pulling her into me, slowly teasing her mouth open with subtle pecks. Her body heeds to mine, allowing me the control she knows I desperately need. Effortlessly, my tongue pushes through, brushing the roof of her mouth. Seeking. Anniston moans appreciation, licking and nipping at me, begging for more.

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