Page 75 of Down and Dirty

“I don’t know but I been told,” Alda Sue sang out.

“I don’t know but I been told,” the rest of the women repeated.

“Navy SEALs aren’t all that hot.”

“Navy SEALs aren’t all that hot.”

“Of women, they know diddly squat.”

“Of women, they know diddly squat.”

“That’s the truth, we swear to that.”

“That’s the truth, we swear to that.”

“Now WEALS may be hot to trot,”

“Now WEALS may be hot to trot,”

“But not for a webfoot hotshot.”

“But not for a webfoot hotshot.”

“Keep it up, SEALs cannot.”

“Keep it up, SEALs cannot.”

“Sound off, one, two… ”

“Three, four.”

“Very funny,” the commander said. “Enough slacking off. Pick up speed here, ladies, or ring out. This isn’t a turtle race. We have something fun planned back on the grinder. Betcha that bell will be ringing then.”

A communal groan followed his words.

They ran five miles, which was a lot for some of these women. Halfway back to the command center, they were really dragging, the weight of the boats and length of their run catching up with even the fittest of them. He knew from experience that their muscles were screaming by now, especially the back of the neck.

Britta was in the middle of the line, struggling, but no more than the others. He tried to stay away and let the other instructors pick on her, but he couldn’t help but glance her way every five minutes or so.

“Are you still mad at me, honey?” he inquired, jogging along beside her.

She stared straight ahead, panting like a woman in labor. Was she still upset because he wouldn’t agree to her preposterous suggestion that he travel back in time with her? As if!

“You didn’t really expect me to time-travel with you, did you?”

She glanced his way for a brief second. “I’ll find someone else to help. Now begone, lout! You will scare the other men away.”

“Huh? What men?” He slowed down his pace, dropping to the back of the pack. She’d planted an uncomfortable idea in his head. She wouldn’t go out seeking some other man, would she? For orgasms or a friggin’ time-travel buddy? Not if he had any say in the matter, and he had plenty to say.

F.U. got in the faces of some of the women then. Jogging backward, he taunted Alda Sue, “Well, Mzzz. I-Am-a-Country-Singer, yer not singin’ now, are ya? Yer sweatin’ like a pig. It’s a wonder ya don’t jist fall down. Come on, baby, I’ll help ya to the bell. Ya kin be in Nashville before dark.”

“F.U.,” the woman choked out.

F.U.’s eyes about bugged out. “Wh-what did you say?”

Alda Sue just widened her eyes innocently and replied, “I said, ‘Yes, Master Chief F.U., sir.’ What did you think I said?”

The commander jogged up then, and F.U. gave the woman a look that pretty much said to watch her back.