A Major Connection Read Online Free PDF Page A

broad shoulders. Not nearly as large as Thorn, but definitely bigger than Matt.
    Before Danger Guy could instigate the others to any nonsense, she took a step toward him. “You three are Marines, aren’t you?”
    “Why? Always dreamed about fucking one?” he asked.
    The others laughed. She didn’t like having them at her back, so she moved until she had all three Marines in her periphery. Matt moved with her and made the mistake of trying to attack Drunk Guy. He threw the shoes at him then swung for his head…and missed.
    The sober one took Matt to his knees, then he and Drunk Guy held him while Matt gagged and bent over.
    The third man, Danger Guy, moved in on her.
    “You know what?” she growled. “I’m going to keep this simple. I don’t dream about fucking Marines. I am a Marine. A sincerely enraged officer who’s going to have you by the balls before you can blink. Back. Off.” Once the swearing started, she had a hard time reining in her temper.
    Danger Guy stopped, but his friends continued to restrain Matt, who sagged in their hold, still heaving.
    April was done playing nice. “Are you shitting me? What the fuck is your rank, Marine?”
    “Ah, I’m… Hold on.” He belched and stepped closer, bringing with him the smell of tequila. She had a feeling he’d over-imbibed as well. He just wore it better.
    He scoffed as he studied her. “No way you’re a Marine. Not with those tits.”
    She’d known wearing the halter dress might be a problem should Matt prove a lecherous kind of guy. Ten minutes in his presence and she’d learned he wasn’t. At all. Besides, she’d wanted to feel pretty, and the soaring humidity made less fabric a decent choice. The halter dress bared a bit of cleavage and ended at mid-thigh, yet it covered enough to be considered decent.
    “ I’m not a Marine? I’m thinking you can’t be one talking that way to a lady.” Her rage flashed white-hot when he grabbed her by the wrist with one hand and her breast with the other.
    She used the defensive moves all Marines were taught. She broke his hold while putting him in a wristlock in seconds. Then she yanked him into a bent over position, bashed his nose in with her knee and flipped him onto his back on the compacted sand, ending with a heel—an unfortunately barefoot heel—to his groin.
    He curled into a ball and moaned in pain, blood spurting from his nose.
    One down. April turned to fully face the others and saw all three of them staring at her in shock. She had a feeling Matt would not be calling her for another date. He looked both mortified, flabbergasted, and afraid.
    “ID cards. Now .” She knelt, fished a wallet out of Danger Guy’s pocket, and grabbed his ID. “Sergeant Aaron Pinter. We’ll see how long that rank lasts.” She glared up at his friends. “Well? I don’t have all fucking night. Give me your cards.”
    Drunk Guy handed his over, but his buddy ran. Matt remained on his knees staring up at her. Poor guy.
    April fished her cell phone out of her purse. “Who’s your NCOIC, and what’s his number?” NCOIC—Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge—the guy or gal who’d tear them a new one when he or she heard about this nonsense.
    Drunk Guy stammered a name, then rattled off his NCOIC’s phone number.
    “Get him up,” she barked at him, motioning to Danger Guy groaning on the ground. “Let’s go.” After she and Matt put their shoes back on, the group walked up the beach, her in the lead, while Drunk Guy—Lance Corporal Miller—and Matt hauled Pinter to the nearest public venue, a somewhat decent bar she recognized. Had they continued on their walk, she realized they would have reached the bad one a few blocks down.
    April stopped everyone in the parking lot under bright lights and made a call. “Hello? This is Major April Soames. To whom am I speaking?”
    A deep voice answered, “This is Staff Sergeant James, Ma’am. How can I help you?”
    “I’m sorry to say I was just assaulted by