Chapter 4

4

ROS

T he days at the base had grown increasingly intense. Each mission brought new challenges, and the pressure on General Carson to maintain a tight grip on her command was relentless. But it wasn't just the military operations that weighed on her; it was the constant, growing tension between her and Captain Scarlett Bennett.

Scarlett had proven herself time and again, her quick thinking and sharp instincts repeatedly turning the tide in their favor. She was a natural leader, commanding respect from her peers and admiration from her superiors. But for Ros, there was something more. Every time they worked together, every time Scarlett looked at her with those clear, confident hazel eyes, Ros felt her control slipping.

Today had been no different. Intelligence suggested that the insurgents were planning to sabotage supply routes crucial to the base's operations, so Ros tasked Scarlett with leading a small team to deliver supplies to an outpost while gathering information on insurgent movements. It was only due to Captain Bennett's quick thinking that her entire platoon had avoided the ambush planned to take out the supply route. If she hadn't noticed the signs of the insurgents' presence, Fort Independence would have been without supplies for some time.

"Captain, good work today out there. Color me impressed."

"Thank you, General. Just doing my job."

"Of course, of course. Still, such competence deserves some recognition. Why don't you swing by my quarters this evening? We can share a drink to celebrate."

Ros saw the tips of Scarlett's ears tinge with pink.

Damn, I've pushed too quickly. Why would she even want to spend time with her general?

She began to retract the invitation. "Not that—" "I'd love to, yes. Thank you, General." She smiled.

Relief and warmth rushed through Ros. Phew , she hadn't pushed the captivating captain away. Not that the drink would mean anything, of course. Just rewarding a promising young soldier for her good work. Just getting to know her better, making her comfortable in her new posting.

Ros's mind suddenly flooded with images of her making the young captain very comfortable indeed. The bed would be the most comfortable, naturally, though the couch could suffice in a pinch.

I wonder what her beautiful red hair looks like released from that harsh bun and splayed across my pillows? I wonder what her face looks like when she climaxes?

What was she thinking? Captain Bennett was her junior; she couldn't abuse her position of power like that. And while she got the impression the captain found her interesting, she wouldn't want to shack up with an old soldier like her. Feeling a coiling in the pit of her stomach, she looked up to where the subject of her reveries had not moved and was still staring at her.

"Ahem, good. Well then, Captain. I'll see you later for that drink. Dismissed."

"Yes, General." Bennett saluted, a bemused expression on her face, before leaving the room.

Why have I gotten myself into this? I've set myself up for an evening of torture now.

The rest of that afternoon, Ros hadn't been able to focus no matter how hard she tried. Scarlett Bennett, in her quarters tonight. She couldn't get the thought out of her head.

Dinner had come and gone, and Ros had sat stoically at her desk, papers in hand. She hadn't been able to read a single sheet, her head so full, so overwhelmed, so confused. Why had she done this to herself? No other pretty soldier had ever caught her attention like this before. She had always kept her head down, kept working, kept progressing. She'd had no time for romance, not even dalliances. What was so different about Captain Bennett? The woman intrigued her. She seemed so fearless—fearless enough to disobey her—but so human and caring at the same time. Ros couldn't understand her, couldn't wrap her mind around her own fascination, though she wouldn't mind wrapping herself around the figment of her obsession.

God, why couldn't she get her out of her head? And why wasn't she here yet?

A rap at the door saved Ros from further spiraling. She shot up from her chair, scraping the legs across the hard floor. She hadn't changed out of her uniform. Was that a good thing? Would Scarlett think that was strange? No, it would help her keep her distance. This was a celebratory drink between two colleagues, that was all. She tugged at her jacket and ran a hand over her cropped silver hair, smoothing it into submission.

With a centering breath, she pulled the door open. Scarlett was looking down the hallway, her hands clasped behind her back. She was in her fatigues, and her auburn hair was tied back.

She looked back to where Ros was standing.

"Good evening, General."

"Good evening, Captain."

"May I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Ros stumbled over her words, realizing she was blocking the captain from entering. "Come in, come in. Make yourself comfortable." She waved the younger woman inside, only now realizing just how barren her quarters were.

Ros gestured toward the couch and dragged her desk chair over to sit opposite her. She didn't dare risk sharing the couch, not with the possibilities her mind had been conjuring earlier.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, both women acutely aware of the undercurrent that had been growing stronger with each passing day. Finally, Ros gestured toward the small table where she had set out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "I thought we could toast to our success."

Scarlett hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "I'd like that."

They sat across from each other, the whiskey smooth and warm as it slid down their throats. The silence stretched on, heavy with unspoken words. Ros found herself staring at Scarlett, her mind a tumult of emotions she had tried so hard to bury. This woman—so capable, so sharp—was becoming more than just a trusted officer to her. And that realization terrified her.

"To a successful mission."

"Agreed, to a successful mission," Scarlett echoed back as they clinked their glasses together, the ringing filling the otherwise silent room.

"So, Captain, how are you settling in at Fort Independence? Finding your feet okay?" Ros asked, questing around for some kind of casual conversation to fill the awkward pause that was sure to build.

"Yes, thank you, General. I'm settling in well. It's been good to jump right in. If I hadn't been so busy, I think it would have been more nerve-wracking."

"So, you prefer risking your life to having make conversation. A woman after my own heart. And please, we are in my quarters; you're not on duty. Call me Ros."

"Yes, Gener—Ros. But if I'm calling you Ros, you'd better call me Scarlett. It would be very odd for me to be the only one keeping rank." She laughed.

"Very well then, Scarlett." The name felt foreign in her mouth. Though it had filled her thoughts for some time now, she hadn't allowed herself to call the captain by her name, fearful it might lead to her own integrity slipping.

A silence settled between them, Ros too caught up in her own thoughts to notice.

"So, I hear you're new to the base as well, Ros. How are you finding things?"

"Oh, well, everything has been running smoothly. Though these insurgents making themselves a nuisance isn't the most peaceful thing to establish command under."

"Ha. I can imagine. Still, from what I hear, the boots think you're doing a good job."

"Ah, I won't ask for gossip. As much as a part of me wants to know, I don't think it's fair on the soldiers. Or on you for that matter. Can't establish trust within your company if they can't bellyache about command. It's not that long ago I was in their shoes, and I certainly had plenty to grumble about. I don't begrudge anyone their complaints."

"Fair enough."

Ros cringed; she'd killed that line of conversation. She'd never been good at this.

"How did you end up in the military?" Scarlett blurted.

Ros's smile slightly upturned. At least one of them seemed able at keeping the conversation going.

"Family tradition. Grew up with my father being military; his father was too. Couldn't let the tradition die out. Besides, I wasn't sure what else I could possibly do with my life. No, it was always going to be the army for me."

"Oh wow. So, your whole life has been this?"

"Yeah, no idea what I would do without it, to be honest. What about you? I've seen your file, of course, but what made you want to switch into this kind of life?"

"Honestly, I just wanted a change. I landed a job after college, but life just felt empty, like I was floating with no direction. I've always thrived under pressure and can't get a whole lot more pressure than this." She grinned, her hands gesturing around them as she talked.

"Well, the swap seems to have worked out for you. Look at you, shooting through the ranks. You'll be after my position in no time!"

Scarlett looked at her with big hazel eyes. Her cheeks flushed slightly. She was very beautiful and Ros couldn't keep her illicit thoughts from flashing back into her head.

"You're too kind, Ros."

Ros leaned back slightly in her chair, a playful glint in her sharp gray eyes. "Too kind? Hardly. I've seen the way you handle yourself under pressure. It's impressive, Scarlett. But I'm sure you hear that all the time."

Scarlett chuckled, the sound light but tinged with something more. "Only from those trying to get on my good side. But coming from you, it feels…different."

"Oh?" Ros arched an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on Scarlett a moment longer than necessary. "And why's that?"

Scarlett hesitated, feeling a flicker of nervousness. But there was a challenge in Ros's eyes, a subtle invitation that made her bolder. "Because you're not someone who gives out compliments lightly. You mean what you say."

Ros smiled, a soft, almost secretive curve of her lips. "I do. And I meant it. You've got talent, Scarlett. I can see you going far."

Scarlett felt warmth spread through her chest at the sound of her name on Ros's lips. It sounded casual, almost like they were old friends. "I appreciate that, really. But I have to admit, it's a little intimidating trying to live up to your expectations."

Ros tilted her head, studying Scarlett with a mix of curiosity and something deeper, something unspoken. "Intimidating? You don't strike me as the type who's easily intimidated."

Scarlett's smile widened, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Maybe not by the usual challenges, but you're not exactly ‘usual.'."

Ros's gaze sharpened, her amusement deepening. "No? What am I then?"

"More like a puzzle." Her tone was teasing but with a thread of sincerity woven in. "Complex, challenging, not easily solved."

Ros's laughter was low and warm, filling the space between them. "A puzzle, huh? I suppose I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one," Scarlett replied, her voice softening.

There was something intoxicating about this moment, the way they were tiptoeing around the edge of something more, something they both seemed to want but were hesitant to acknowledge.

Ros leaned in slightly, her eyes locked on Scarlett's, the distance between them narrowing. "Careful, Scarlett. You might find that solving this puzzle isn't as easy as it seems."

"I've never been one to shy away from a challenge, Ros."

She was leaning so far forward on her chair she was almost touching the couch. Her face felt warm from the whiskey or perhaps just from being so close to the subject of her recent dreams.

The air between them felt heavy and charged, as though filled with unspoken feelings and intentions.

She could see Scarlett felt it too. Her lips were slightly parted, and her hazel eyes glazed. Her skin was flushed, and her breathing had quickened. Ros leaned even further forward, so close they almost touched. The edge of her seat bit into the back of her legs, startling her back into reality.

She jolted backward.

What was she doing? She couldn't be acting like this toward any soldier, let alone one who reported directly to her. How could she even think about putting Scarlett in such a compromised position. If she didn't feel the same, she could hardly say no to her superior, could she? God, what was coming over her?

"Scarlett I?—"

But before she could finish, Scarlett moved. In an instant, she closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against Ros's in a kiss that was all heat and desperation. Heat enveloped her lips, soft hair stroked against her cheeks. It took a second for her mind to catch up. Scarlett Bennett was kissing her.

Ros hadn't kissed anyone in a very long time.

She relaxed into the kiss, her hand reaching around to the back of Scarlett's neck, pulling her in closer, deepening the kiss until it threatened to consume her. The force of it stole Ros's breath, her carefully constructed walls crumbling as she kissed Scarlett back with all the intensity she'd been holding in. Scarlett's lips were chapped from her recent excursions, and Ros gently ran her tongue over them, the taste of whiskey coating them. She felt Scarlett's hands bunching in her jacket, pulling her hips forward. The world around them blurred, reduced to the press of lips and the taste of whiskey.

The kiss was fierce, hungry, and a release of everything they'd both been trying to deny. Ros could feel Scarlett's heartbeat against her chest, matching the frantic rhythm of her own. For the first time in so long, Ros felt alive, the fire inside her burning brighter than ever.

But then, with a sharp intake of breath, Ros pulled away. The loss of contact was like a slap to the face, and she was left gasping, her heart racing as she struggled to regain control.

Scarlett's breath was ragged, her lips swollen from the kiss. She stared at Ros, confusion and longing written all over her face.

"We can't," Ros said, her voice rough, barely able to form the words. "You know we can't. The consequences…" Ros ran a trembling hand through her hair, trying to steady herself. The reality of what they'd just done hit her like a wave, cold and unforgiving. "We have to stop this before it goes too far. If anyone finds out, it could ruin us both."

Scarlett's jaw tightened, but she nodded, the fire in her eyes dimming to a smolder. "I understand," she said, though the words were heavy with disappointment.

They sat there, inches apart, but it felt like miles. The kiss hung between them, a forbidden act that neither of them could take back.

"Sorry, I-I thought..." "No, no. Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have invited you back here. I should have better control of myself."

"Control? Oh."

"Scarlett. Captain, I shouldn't have encouraged this. There can be nothing between us. Fraternization simply isn't worth the consequences. God, you'd think I'd be old enough to know better."

"Ros"—Scarlett sighed as Ros turned away from her—"you're right, I should go. Thank you for the drink and the chat."

Ros didn't answer. She didn't trust herself to speak as she watched Scarlett stand, her movements stiff, as though she was fighting every urge to stay.

"Good night, Captain. Strictly professional from now on."

"Yes, General, good night." She gave a sad smile.

Their eyes met one last time, and in that moment, Ros wanted nothing more than to reach out, to pull Scarlett back, and feel what she'd denied herself for so long.

But she didn't. She let Scarlett walk away, the door closing softly behind her, leaving Ros alone with the echoes of what had just happened.

Ros stared at where Scarlett had stood. The door, so cold and solid, a reminder of all the reasons she could never have the love life she wanted.

The couch groaned as Ros collapsed on it, her head in her hands, breathing in Scarlett's scent still lingering on the fabric. Her lips still tingled, and she ran her finger over them. How was she ever going to be able to look at her again?

She sat alone in the dim light, the taste of the kiss still fresh in her mind, and the weight of what had just happened settling heavily on her shoulders. She had always prided herself on her discipline, on keeping her emotions in check. But now, she felt that control slipping away.

And as much as she tried to push it aside, she couldn't bring herself to regret the kiss. For the first time in years, Ros felt truly alive, even if it meant she was now walking a dangerous line.

As Scarlett left Ros's quarters; she felt a rush of emotions surge through her. Her heart was still pounding, and her lips tingled from the kiss they had just shared. She walked down the dimly lit hallway, her footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.

As she walked, she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing was still uneven. She felt exposed, as if the lingering heat from their kiss was visible to anyone who might see her. Scarlett turned down an empty corridor, heading toward her own quarters, her thoughts tangled between what had just happened and what it meant for her future.

Scarlett couldn't deny the longing that still lingered, the desire to turn back, to return to Ros's quarters and continue what they had started. But that longing was tempered by a deep sense of uncertainty.

Where did they go from here? Could they really keep things professional after crossing such a line? And more pressing—did she even want to?