GAGE: A Bad Boy Military Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

she’d just been fucked mental, giving those complex eyes an extra layer. “You really think that’s all I can take?” they seemed to ask.
     
    I closed the laptop’s screen and pushed it away. I’d gotten it out of my system—for now—that fog that clouds your sensibilities, that gets thicker and thicker with every passing day, that the other Joes stationed at the base had fallen victim to—that fog that makes you lose sight of reality, of your life.
     
    Maybe it was no use, but at least my head would stay on straight for one more day.

CHAPTER SIX

    The drunker the men got, the closer they got, and the touchier they got. One particularly drunk soldier, with a black beard and a bald head, had his arm around my back and his cheek against my head, while his free hand slowly inched towards my chest.
     
    He kept “accidentally” tugging on my shawl, trying to pull it off of my bare chest. The first time he did it, I almost believed it was accidental. But after six beers, his attempts were becoming increasingly more blatant—and increasingly more aggressive. Eventually, he just gave up on the whole “accidental” act altogether.
     
    “C’mon, don’t be like that, babe,” he said as I swatted his hand down from sliding up my chest. He barely got his finger on the cusp of my breast. “Your boyfriend back home don’t gotta know,” he said.
     
    I didn’t have any boyfriend back home, but I decided not to tell him that. That would have been enough to push him over the edge.
     
    The man next to him, also bald but face clean shaven, had his hand on my thigh. The two men kept exchanging glances over my shoulder as if I had tunnel vision. Or maybe they just didn’t care. It didn’t take me long to realize they were hoping for some group action. The clean-shaven man kept leaving and returning with more drinks.
     
    For America’s Best, they weren’t very smart. Neither of them noticed that I never had a sip of the liquor they kept bringing. I would pretend to take a sip and then place the drink down next to their own. Then, I would pick up one of their near empty drinks the next time I went for a sip. They were too focussed on trying to mind-will the shawl off of my chest.
     
    “What do you say we head back to your room and keep drinking there?” one of the men suggested. A hand began to slither in between my legs. I closed my thighs shut.
     
    The bearded man was smirking. I wanted to slap him on more than one occasion. His sweaty fingers trying to push up towards my pussy was almost the final straw, but I could see Nancy with an eye on me from across the room.
     
    Even she had a man hanging off of her. She didn’t appear to be too enthused about it, but she wasn’t fighting it either. It was hard to tell from the other end of the dimly lit cafeteria, but I’m almost sure the man had his hand under Nancy’s skirt. What was he doing? I was happy not knowing.
     
    “Excuse me while I use the little lady’s room,” I said, faking as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
     
    The men watched me walk into the back room. I had nothing to cover my ass—unfortunately, my shawl wasn’t long enough. But even with my face turned away, I could feel their gazes glued to my ass, and I could feel the ensuing shiver creeping up my spine.
     
    I didn’t have to use the bathroom, but I did have to get the hell away from those men. I walked straight out the backdoor and started towards the guest hall. I wasn’t even twenty feet away when I could hear the moaning and screaming of my fellow Playmates inside. Going into that guest hall would be like walking into a death trap. My little curtain wall wasn’t going to protect me from anything—and I had to pass through about a dozen other “rooms” just to get to my own. Soon, Nancy would be back at the guest hall, too.
     
    I considered turning back to the cafeteria, but between Nancy’s guilty stare and those bald-headed, horny fuckers, I wasn’t much better off.