“By the Hitman”
The Dugout seemed like a typical sports bar, with wide-screen TVs showing whatever big game was playing at the time, pool tables, and plenty of cold, cheap beer on tap. Bull entered the air-conditioned dive at the side of the road looking for a drink and either a good fight or an even better fuck, never suspecting that by the end of the night, he’d have all three.
Ten miles outside of Killeen, Texas, he figured The Dugout served not only the thirsty locals, but also plenty of infantry jocks from nearby Fort Hood. He saddled up to a stool at the counter and ordered a beer. Country music droned on in the background while Monday Night Football drew his eyes to the big screen above the bar.
The first taste of beer hit his tongue with a shock of refreshment. The last few weeks had been hard, and this day in particular under drought-induced hundred-degree heat had taken the prize. Ten hours on the road had left him itchy, sweaty, and horny, all of which only worked to worsen what he’d been feeling since his departure from San Diego. By the second swig, he was there again against his will, reliving his month with Oscar De La Santos and the disappointment that his cross-country trip to meet his estranged son had ended in disaster.
He knocked back the rest of his beer on the next gulp and ordered a second. Oscar – and Jason, he reluctantly admitted – they were both in his past now. All he could focus on from this point forward was getting back to North Carolina, the Army, and the Best Ranger Competition, or else Inky Calhoun would have him by the nuts. A sixty-hour march through the Georgia wilderness was exactly what he needed to clear his mind of all the horseshit he’d gotten into since leaving his life in North Carolina at the end of January.
Most of his problems could be pinned on the fact he’d been giving it up to other dudes along the way. That crap’s gonna change, he told himself, checking out the football game. Gonna get me a sweet piece of pussy tonight if I can, just the thing to put the rest behind me…
That choice bit of tail stood at the pool table surrounded by what Bull guessed were local boys – a trio of young, twenty-somethings dressed in blue jeans, ball caps, and shit-kickers. She looked their age, real trim and pretty with her platinum blonde hair pulled into a bun and full red lips. She wore a black halter-top – no bra – that showed off her rack of decent tits and butt-hugging designer jeans. As he watched her take her shot, Bull noticed the teasing wiggle of her tight little ass, something not lost on the boys surrounding her. He also realized that his study of the sweet slice of pussy hadn’t gone unnoticed. One of the boys – the handsomest, Bull admitted to himself in silence – flashed him back a mean look.
Bull narrowed his eyes and faced the local boy without blinking. Dude could be her boyfriend, he thought. Then again, the way she’s showing it off, he’s probably just the top rooster. Or he thinks he is…
Eventually, Bull won the game of eye-chicken. The dark-haired local boy turned away to confer with the nearest of his buddies. Their shared look in his direction sent fresh adrenaline surging through Bull’s blood. He wasn’t about to flee from the challenge.
Standing, he strutted over to the pool table. “Howdy,” he growled to no one in particular, setting his beer down.
The two young goons flanking the dark-haired local boy whispered something back and forth. He chalked his stick and faced Bull directly. “Can we help you with something?”
“You three, naw,” Bull answered. A cool, confident grin broke across his handsome face. “But you -” This was meant for the sweet piece of tail who lowered her stick and smiled. “I was hoping you might do me the honor of letting me buy you a drink.”
The girl seductively eased the pool stick down to the floor between both legs. “Damn, a gentleman,” she sighed. “And such a : big one.”
Bull folded his arms, flexing them intentionally. “Twenty year Army Corp service, ma’am.”
She licked her lips and sized him up, all to the chagrin of the others. Before she could continue her slither closer to Bull, the dark-haired macho man cut between them. “She don’t need nothing from you,” he grumbled, his deep voice heavy with a Texas accent. “We got us a game to finish here, Kimmy Sue,” he said to her. “We don’t need some jarhead from the base messing up our night!”
Bull passed a hand through his close-cropped hair. “I’m not from Fort Hood, tough guy. Just passing through.”
“Then keep passing. Deke,” he snapped. “Your shot.”
One of the other two men leaned slowly down and took aim, never once looking away from Bull. Bull picked up his beer and shrugged. “You want that drink, honey,” he said in a smug voice, “you know where to find me.”
He sauntered back to the bar as the explosion of the cue ball striking stripes ripped through the air in the wake of his retreat. Just knowing that a piece of ass half his age and as hot as Kimmy Sue wanted him made the confrontation all worth it. A slight beer buzz restored the smile to his face, though the encounter worsened the itch between his legs and swelled his fat tube of cock meat to half its thickness.
He hadn’t been sitting there long, eyes buried in the football game, when he heard the click of heels to his left. Bull turned to see the sexy babe slide onto the empty barstool beside him. “‘Sup there, Mister Army Guy?”
“Nothing,” he shot back. “Yet.”
Kimmy Sue reached over and picked up the sweating, half-empty glass in front of him. Without asking, a sneaky look on her face, she knocked back a swig. Bull watched her throat knot under the influence of a swallow. She licked her lips seductively once she’d drained the glass. The itch in Bull’s nuts intensified. “Phew,” she whistled. “All this small talk’s making me hot.”
“No shit,” Bull chuckled. He snapped his fingers. “Yo, bartender. Two more cold ones.”
Before the beer arrived, the local boy who hadn’t taken kindly to Bull’s invasion of his territory joined them. “Kimmy Sue,” he barked threateningly. “I told you to steer clear of this dude!”
“Oh, stop being so rude, Jamey,” she spat back. “I’m just acting friendly, that’s all.”
“Yeah, a might too friendly!” He grabbed her arm. Kimmy Sue shook free, and in one fluid motion, Bull whipped around to shield her with his body, putting himself between her and her would-be suitor. The tension in the air doubled.
“You want a piece of me, you take it like a man!” Bull bellowed.
“I’m ready, soldier boy,” the young man – Jamey – shouted back.
At first, it didn’t seem to be much of a fight; Bull stood a good three inches taller and nearly twice his age and bore twenty years worth of service-earned strength in his muscles. For a moment, he actually felt sorry for the guy. After all, he had started this cockfight, all over a tight little piece of pussy.
Any regrets or rights to that bit of tail proved moot when the sound of glass banging the counter turned all eyes toward the bartender. “You take that shit outside!” he shrieked. “I mean it – I ain’t having any more of this local boys versus Army base bullshit in my bar. Both of you – get out!”
Looking wounded, Jamey swore out an angry, “Fuck-!”
Bull fished a twenty out of his pocket and tossed it to the countertop. “Keep the change.” He then extended a hand in Jamey’s direction. “You heard the man. You and me – and no doubt, your home boys ‘cuz I’m sure you can’t take me alone – we got to take this outside, son.”
“I don’t need nobody’s help to whip your sorry ass,” Jamey said on his strut to the door. “And I ain’t your son, ya prick.”
A surge of coldness briefly gripped Bull’s insides. He thought of Jason, but the hurt passed almost as quickly as it ignited. He had some ass to kick – and once he was done kicking it, some pussy to plug.