Page 9 of The Commander

It’s an hour at most.

But you know, he’s an accountant with an OCD lifestyle. Things have to be a certain way. I’ve shown up in his life and created chaos.

I let out a long sigh.

I don’t even know why I’m dating Mark.

We met in a bar in Victorville, and he was a little drunk and made me laugh. It’s hard to meet men outside the military where I have a strict no-dating rule with any of them. So, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get to know Mark and enjoy regular sex.

Note I say regular and not great.

It is what it is.

So here I am, sleeping with an OCD accountant who is sober most of the time, so the funny jokes are slim. God, that’s an awful thing to say, but unless he’s had a drink, he’s the most boring person on the planet.

Well, that’s unfair.

Christian, a dentist I dated a year ago, didn’t have any fun work stories. Our political leanings were too far apart, so after we had some invigorating sex, our conversation completely dried up.

Mark is good with his tongue, I suppose. Hence it being a few months. God, I’m a bad person.

Last night we saw a movie, which saved the need for any conversation, but I spent most of it thinking about Jeannie. She’s my best friend. We met in college, and she lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Carl. She’s just announced they’re having a baby.

“Oh my God,” I screamed into the phone when she rang. “A baby. My god, I’m so happy for you both. Young parenting is such a thing nowadays.”

“Young?” Jeannie laughed. “Quinn, I’m twenty-seven, the same age as you. Carl is almost thirty.”

I’d gone quiet.

She hadn’t meant to do it, but it was a slap in the face. We were the same age. It wasn’t like I was unaware of the ticking clock inside my body, or that I was hyper-focused on my career or proving to my father I could succeed.

I’d done that already, hadn’t I?

The problem is that there are still those who think I used other means to get where I was. And my father is still hoping I’ll grow out of this.

It made me dig my heels in deeper.

Using that pussy to climb the ladder, are we, Parker?

My teeth clench when I think about Tyrell Brooks and the things he’s said to me over the years. We joined the military at the same time, and he’s like a bad smell I can’t get rid of—that is, until I transferred to Fort Irwin a few months ago.

Tyrell saw me as competition, and I guess I was because I got promoted before him every time. Instead of working on his training and studying harder, he preferred to point the finger.

Unlike others, he seemed to pick up on the chemistry between Noah and me, regardless of the fact that nothing happened between us, and Captain Jenkins was harder on me than anyone else.

Darlin’, you can practice sucking my cock for a bigger promotion next time.

That day, I snapped and punched Tyrell in the face. We were in the chow hall with tons of witnesses, which was stupid as fuck. Tyrell clasped his face, fighting with his conscience not to punch a woman, which I used to my advantage and leaped at him a second time.

Unfortunately, Ridge, a bulky six-foot-four soldier, pulled me off the motherfucker like I was a sack of rice. Side note: I would have slept with Ridge in a heartbeat if I didn’t have my rule of not banging anyone in uniform. And if I wasn’t obsessed with a certain commanding officer of mine.

Speaking of, Noah—Captain Jenkins—found out about the tussles and called us into his office demanding an explanation.

“You want to tell him?” I lifted a brow, glaring at Tyrell, who was holding an ice pack to his cheek. For dramatics.

He was fine. I’d hit him an hour prior.

“Whatever.”