Fraternizing (7 page)

"Good
morning, Radio and Data," he said, looking around the group and never once
loosening the tense muscles that held the scowl on his face. "We are
starting your morning out with your preliminary PFT. Males will go to the left,
females to the right. You should all be aiming for a first class PFT
today."

I watched the
Adam's apple in his throat protrude with every word he spoke. Thoughts of
running my tongue over and around it bombarded me, taking me away for a minute
before I regained my focus.

"Males will
be performing pull-ups, females will be performing the flexed arm hang. Males,
you will start with your body at a dead hang, your chin must pass the bar, and
you must come back down to a dead hang for each pull up to count. Aim to max
out at twenty." He moved aside and out came a female instructor that I had
not yet met.

"I am
Corporal Collins, and I work in the Data section.
Females,
your flexed arm hang, unlike the male pull-ups, is
timed. You are to
start with your chin above the bar. The time will stop when your arms become
fully extended. Aim to hold your body up for seventy seconds for maximum
points."

As soon as she
was finished speaking, Sgt. Jensen stepped out, giving the order for us to move
to our respective sides. As I moved to the female line, Cruz's eyes landed on
me, narrowing into dark little slits the longer we were eye locked on one
another. Prickles began coating my arms, even though it was probably about
eighty degrees out in the desert already. Castillo walked up behind him,
tapping him on the shoulder, which effectively broke our stare. She whispered
something to him, making him nod as he strode away. I looked back to find her
eyes on me, inquisition laced throughout like she was trying to figure me out. The
moment turned awkward in a heartbeat, so I turned my head back around and made
my way into my line to start my PFT.

Angelica was one
of the first to jump up onto the bar, hanging for a full minute before the
weight of her own body gave way and her arms were fully extended. She let go of
the bar, dropping to the ground yelling, "Shit!" as she angrily
rubbed her moist hands on her t-shirt.

"Good job,
Ruiz," Collins said to her, prompting Angelica to give a very tightened response
of thank you.

After a few more
females, it was finally my turn. I looked around before stating my rank and
name, waiting to be given the all clear to get up on the bar. Just as Cpl.
Collins gave the go ahead, I looked around and my eyes landed on Cruz, who was
standing about fifty feet away, arms locked over his chest, eyes focused with
his expressionless face fixated on me. My nerves began to jumble as I gripped
the bar, trying hard to steady my weight when the weight of his gaze on me
seemed like it was pressing me down.

Once I situated
myself, and Collins gave the command to start, I tried hard to erase him and
his intimidating, yet, alluring gaze from my mind. I began singing lyrics in my
mind, but as I did that, the lyrics to
Blurred
Lines
came rushing back to me, filling my head with his hands all over me,
his cock stabbing into my ass. I was beginning to falter, losing the ability to
focus on the task at hand. Luckily, I was able to hold tight to my grip, and I
quickly moved on to singing a Marine Corps cadence that was taught to us in
bootcamp, refocusing my attention to where it needed to be.

Before long, the
sweat forming on my hands was beginning to make the bar slick, and the sweat
trickling down my forehead was making my face itch. I didn't want to give up. I
wanted a max score. Not only because I had yet to attain it but because I was
also aware of a pair of devilish eyes that were hooked on me. My facial muscles
contorted as I worked feverishly to keep myself up, not wanting to allow my arms
to fully extend before time was called. I gritted my teeth and yelled, trying
to do anything to combat the hurt expelling itself throughout my muscles as I
worked tirelessly to hold my body weight up.

My arms began
shaking as I felt my muscles begin to break down from the excessive weight. My
body began lowering as I tried in vain to keep it up, but before I knew it, my
arms had fully extended and Cpl. Collins was yelling, "Time."

"Sixty five
seconds, Bennett. Good job!"

"Thank you,
Cpl. Collins," I said through short, quick,
breaths
.

I pulled the
neck of my t-shirt up to my face to wipe the excess sweat away. As I pulled it
back down, my eyes met with Cruz. He sent a wicked smirk in my direction before
turning and making his way back over to the male side of the field.

"Sixty five
seconds. That's bad ass, Bennett," Dalton said, high-fiving me.

"It's my
best yet. In bootcamp, the best I ever did was a full minute."

"Sweet. Before
long, you'll hit seventy seconds and max out on points. Let me know if you want
to work out with me. I'll get ya there."

"Will
do."

Our conversation
was broken up by death harrowing cries that came from none other than Allen
leaving the pull-up bar. He had maxed out his twenty pull-ups and was
celebrating his feat with caveman-like cries that seemed to garner the
attention of everyone in attendance. Jensen walked up to him, patting him on
the back while whispering something in his ear. He smiled and laughed before
making his way over to the water station to hydrate. I had no desire to get
tangled up with him again, so I quickly turned my head around before he could
catch my stare.

Next was the
crunches portion of the test. We were all herded to the grassy area not far
from the pull-up station and instructed to grab a partner to count our
pull-ups. Once again, Sgt. Cruz took the lead, barking out the directions.

"You will
have two minutes to belt out as many crunches as possible. Remember, your arms
must stay folded over your chest, your butt must stay in contact with the
ground, your feet must remain in contact with the ground, and your elbows must
touch your thighs and then back down to the ground in order for it to count. Partners,
do not count them if they are not executed correctly. Do you understand
that?"

"Yes,
Sergeant!" we all yelled.

"Go!"

I partnered up
with Angelica since she was near me. She seemed to be taking her frustrations
from the bar out on her crunches because she was moving like a well-oiled
machine. She worked fast and furiously, taking slight breaths with every upward
motion that her body made. At the call of the end of two minutes, Angelica had
easily knocked out one hundred, flawless crunches.

"Your
turn," she said, grinning at me. I wasn't sure if she felt like she was in
competition with me since I had lasted longer than she had on the bar, but
honestly, my effort on that apparatus had nothing to do with her.

The call to
begin was given by Sgt. Castillo and I got to work, pumping out crunch after
crunch as easily as I breathed. This event was much less strenuous for me than
the flexed arm hang had been, and shortly after beginning, I heard Castillo's
voice call time. By my own
count,
I had matched
Angelica with one hundred crunches.

When our scores
were taken by the instructors walking through the row, I gave the one hundred
count for Angelica, but when they turned to her to get my count, she called
out, "ninety." My mouth hit the floor.

"Ninety?"
I shrieked, pissed off at her.

"Yeah, some
of those didn't count. You lifted your butt off the ground."

"Bullshit. I
did every single one of them perfectly, and you know it."

She pouted her
plump lips. "Maybe you thought you did them perfectly, but Sgt. Cruz
wasn't far behind, so I don’t know if you thought him seeing your ass would
help, but for this, they don't count."

I wanted to slap
the smirk off of her face, but that wouldn't help matters.

"You're a
fucking bitch," I blew out, trying to keep my voice down.

I got up and
walked away, feeling like I would let out every ounce of wrath that had
suddenly piled up inside of me if I didn't get some space between us. She knew
exactly what she was doing. If she was pissed about Sgt. Cruz, Sgt. Jensen, or
the fact that I had performed better than her on the bar, she was being petty,
and it was beginning to wear thin on me. Unfortunately, before I could figure
out how to handle her, I had to get my mind right because we were heading over
to the water station to hydrate and stretch before making our way to the
three mile
run course.

"You ready
to give me a run for my money?" Dalton asked as we snapped our reflective
belts around our waists. Part of the run course ran alongside the road, and
base orders stated that we must wear reflectives anytime we ran before or after
daylight as a safety precaution.

"I'm not
sure about that. Long distance running has never been my thing," I
responded, trying to be honest about my shortcoming.

"Try to
keep up with me. Running with a partner will sometimes surprise the hell out of
you."

"Will
do."

We stood at the
line, waiting to be given the command to start.

"You will
have twenty-eight minutes to complete your three mile run. One second beyond
twenty-eight minutes and you fail. Pace yourselves so that you don't burn out
too quickly. Go!" Cruz said, leaving his husky voice as the last thing on
my mind as I took off with Dalton by my side.

We started at a
medium pace, not too slow, but definitely not as fast as some of the others. Angelica
was one of the first off the line, almost moving in a dead sprint as she
started her run. That didn't appeal to me at all, knowing if I started that
way, I would definitely burn-out by the second mile.

The sun was
beginning to rise as we ran, sending scorching rays of heat down on us. My
t-shirt and my shorts filled with sweat as I ran, trying desperately to focus
on the course instead of the voice of sex coming from Cruz's mouth into my
ears. Dalton spoke to me as we ran, but between the living
inferno
we were running in, and the voice that was assisting in the task of melting me,
I could barely make out what he was saying.

We hit mile
three, and my legs were beginning to turn into jello. My skin had turned a
lobster's shade of red, the sweat acting as a second layer of skin, coating
every inch of my body, sealing my t-shirt and my shorts to me while my lips
began to chafe and burn. I was slowing down, and even though I knew we only had
one mile to go, I was finding it difficult to keep up the pace that Dalton had
set for us.

"Come on,
Bennett," he said, through short, deep breaths. "You can do this.
Let's go."

"Go ahead
of me," I blew out through labored pants. I didn't want him getting a
worse time because he was trying to keep me on pace with him.

"You
sure?"

"Yeah. I'll
be fine."

With that,
Dalton picked up the pace, moving with the ease of a gazelle. He easily glided
past other runners, almost as if he hadn't exerted a bit of energy already. I
kept to my pace, figuring all I had to do was get to the finish line before
twenty-eight minutes struck on the clock.

As I made the
final turn, I saw Dalton at the line, calling my name, rooting me on. Angelica
wasn't far behind him, staring at me as I inched closer and closer to the
finish line.

"Come on,
Bennett. You've got this," he called out, just as I passed the line.

"Twenty-six
fifteen," Castillo called out. I had never been so thrilled. Usually my
run time was inching closer to the cut-off mark. Running with Dalton had helped
me, even if he finished minutes before I had.

I was panting,
desperate for breath and water, when Dalton walked over to me, handing me a
water bottle. I gulped it down, almost like it was the last drink I would ever
take. He patted me on the back and then walked away. I was much too fatigued to
look up and figure out where he was going, but just as I felt like I could
breathe again, and the overwhelming need to hurl left my body, a deep, rumbling
voice filled my ears.

"Stand
up," he ordered. "You don't want to get cramps."

I looked up to
find the hazel eyes of Cruz glowing at me, his face still held firmly tight.

"Good job
out there today."

The breath I had
worked so hard to catch had escaped me again with his presence and his words
alone. I breathed deep and hard, trying desperately to get it back so I could
say something in response to him.

He leaned in
closer to me, damn near nibbling on my ear lobe as I felt the soft touch of his
full, sensual lips graze my ear. My nipples worked themselves into two solid
pebbles, sticking out against the sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to my chest.

"You're
much too exhausted after this run. I might need to work you out!"

His words grew
deeper and harsher with the end of his statement. The way he looked at me, and
the inflection on the words, meant so much more than what they appeared to
mean. My heart rate spiked again, and my breath caught just as I was fixing my
lips to say something to him in response.

"Stay
focused. Don't be the barracks
whore
either. You've
got too much going for you."

That shocked me.

"What?"
I questioned, completely caught off guard.

"Don't hang
out in barracks rooms where you're the only female. That's how rumors get
started."

I swallowed
hard, not sure how he knew of my whereabouts, and a bit embarrassed by them at
the same time.

"Good job
out there today," he reiterated, this time a wicked gleam went off in his
eyes. He used them to rake over my entire body. I wanted so badly to grab him
and let him have his way with me, but reality quickly set in. He blinked, took
a few steps away from me, then turned on his heel and walked away. His muscular
back outlined by the tight confines of the t-shirt molded onto his body. His
legs, toned and tanned, with a tattoo of a depraved looking Marine Corps
bulldog, carried him away from me, making me wish he would turn around and take
me off somewhere to cure the ache that his presence seemed to inflict on my
body.