Page 4 of Chill’s Chance

The door opens and in walks a supermodel. At least she could be one. She’s tall, almost six feet, as far as I can tell from my prone position. She has her blonde hair tied back in a long ponytail that reaches her ass. I’ve dated women that were probably shorter than the length of her hair. She’s thin, but looks strong. Her legs and ass fill out the jeans and since she’s wearing a t-shirt and her prospect kutte, I can see her lean, muscular arms.

“You must be Hunter.” She says. “I’m Showtime.”

I lean up to offer my hand, but she just looks at it before looking back at me.

“I’m also a friend of Chill’s. We all are.” She says with a hard tone. “I’m sorry about your son and I’m sure Puma and Chill will do everything they can to find him. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe from us if you fuck over Chill. Got it?”

I nod as I let myself fall back onto the bed. “You’re loyal to Chill. I get that. She’s worth it.”

Showtime nods as she places her kutte on a hook near her bed. When she removes her shirt, I sit up, intending to give her privacy, but she waves me back down.

“You don’t have to leave. I have no modesty. Just ask the guys who are bunking in here with us, Mad Max and Smooth.” She tells me as she removes her jeans and bra so she’s standing in just a bright pink thong. I gulp as I take her in. She’s perfection, but I realize she does nothing for me. I know who lights my fire and it’s Chill. Showtime studies me as she steps into a sleep set that is a pair of boxers and a tank top. She nods at me before turning to pull the covers back on the bed. “You passed the test.” She says. “No boner. I’m impressed.”

I snort. “You were testing me?” I ask. She nods without hesitation.

“Of course.”

The door opens and two men come in. They follow the same striptease as Showtime and I smirk when I catch Showtime watching me.

“I didn’t get a boner from watching them either. Is that, like, extra credit?” I ask her.

She snorts out a laugh.

They frown at her but turn their attention to me.

“I’m Mad Max. This is Smooth.” The first guy says. “Showtime doesn’t have any modesty.” He says.

I nod. “That’s what she said.”

The three of them laugh and I chuckle when I realize how that sounded.

“Can I ask why?” I ask.

“Four years as a showgirl will do that to you.” Showtime replies. “I’m used to changing in front of anyone and everyone. Used to drive the guys crazy when I first arrived, but you don’t even notice any longer, do you?” She asks.

I watch the men as they shake their heads and grin at her. But I see the grimace on Mad Max’s face as he turns away from her. Frowning, I wonder about his reaction. Is he interested in Showtime? They’d make an attractive couple. Both are tall with blonde hair. Where she has blue eyes, his are green. Once everyone is in bed, Smooth turns off the light. I lie in bed wondering where Slade is sleeping tonight. My heart hurts knowing he is out there alone and scared.

CHAPTER THREE: CHILL

I debate returning to the common room over going to bed. Or simply put, get sleep or get rip-roaring drunk? Both sound like solid options. Unwilling to face the concern of my brothers, I head to my room. Not that they’ll look at me sideways for my public altercation with Hunter, they know I have a temper. But most of them know my history with the asshole and the reason I left the service. Besides, I have a bottle of Jack in my room for just such an occasion.

Not one for baths. I decide tonight I need one. If only to relax so I can sleep. I have a sinking feeling that sleep won’t come easily tonight. Seeing Hunter brings back all the memories. Not all of them good.

I take my bottle of Jack into the tub with me and drink a good portion of it while I soak. Once the water goes cold, I dry off before collapsing on my bed. Once I pass out, the dreams start.

My first day with a new unit starts out in typical fashion, with leering stares of the men I’m supposed to trust with my life. I shake hands with each one, offering a firm handshake without overcompensating. Wish I could say the same for them. Two of the men, Abbott and Billet, each squeeze hard, but I simply give them my patented stare with no other outward reaction. I maintain my composure and cool disposition, the one that has earned me the nickname of Chill. I channel my best Terminator impersonation as I ignore their attempts to intimidate me.

I keep my cool until I meet him. First Lieutenant Hunter Bryson. When he shakes my hand, a tingle starts at my fingertips and moves through me like an electrical current, from my scalp to my toes and straight to my girly bits. Which really pisses me off. I’m heterosexual, but since joining the Marines, I’ve had no problems suppressing my libido, even amid the male smorgasbord that the military offers. But it takes just one touch from this man for me to know I’m in trouble. Especially when I see his eyes dilate and his nostrils flare. He’s as attracted to me as I am to him. This is not good.

We keep our relationship professional until the night before we ship out for our mission. The rest of our team takes advantage of their downtime while we stay on base.

“Want one, Sergeant?” Hunter asks me, holding up a bottle of Jack. I nod as he pours out two glasses, handing me one. “So, why the Marines?” He asks me.

I shrug. “After graduating from high school, I wasn’t set on any career. I didn’t want to waste money going to college until I figured it out. Joining up seemed like the best option. Not only would I get money for college, but I’d have some experience to help me better decide my future. Discover my talents.”

“Killing?” He asks with a smirk. The smirk sends a jolt through my system as I admire his full lips and wonder what they taste like.

I laugh and toast him. “You got it. What about you?”

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