Volition_Uniform & Lace Romance Novel

by Tina Maurine

  “Holy Fuck!”

  “Jeezus, Tessa—what?” Noah startled at my exclamation—one that I thought I’d said only to myself, but there it was.

  There it was.

  THERE. RIGHT. THERE…

  ‘Lisa’ tattooed across his heart.

  Oh my God. OH. MY. GOD.

  How? It just doesn’t make sense. HOW?

  Noah was Garren, and Garren was ‘Ren’. Noah Garren was the boy I gave my virginity to!

  We knelt in three feet of water; three feet of liquid fire made even hotter by our desire. We shared the same space, the same breaths. Every one he exhaled, I inhaled. The only touch we allowed ourselves was where our knees met in the mud. His skin against mine felt hotter than the hot spring’s water. I don’t know how long we knelt, our bodies facing each other; only a diminutive barrier comprised of electrified molecules, charged by our mutual magnetism, separated us. We vibrated with the energy our bodies created. We controlled our mesmerism, in spite of the fact that we had already explored each other’s bodies, taking greedy liberties the night before on the dance floor.

  How do I tell him who I am? Am I right? God—what if I’m not? If I am, why would I be pretentious enough to assume he’d remember me? What happened between us nearly three years ago was only a big deal to me because of what I had lost that night. I mean, fuck, I didn’t even tell him who I was, because I’d wanted to remain anonymous.

  “Tessa,” his voice came out raw and gravelly. He palmed his face and ran his hands roughly over it and up through his hair before finally placing them on my upper arms—the barrier between us finally breeched. When his hands touched me, energy flowed between us. Noah touched my soul and mine touched his, not just figuratively, but in a concrete, literal and very real way. This man did something to me that no one else ever had. He reached deep into me and pulled from my twisted, sarcastic, ‘keep-my-head-high-nothing-ever-can-hurt-me’ self and teased the real me. He tempted me to let him see who I really was…

  “Tessa, I… well, there’s something about you,” He dropped his hands, his mouth hovering a mere inch from mine. I felt his heated breath sweep across my damp lips, where I had unconsciously licked them in anticipation of the kiss I felt sure would send me to the moon and back. Not that I have the most concrete memory of Noah or how he kissed—truly—the night he took my virginity. Again, I found myself cursing Bacardi 151, and probably not for the last time.

  Noah reached up again, pulling me to him, his right forearm around my lower back. The firmness I felt my soft curves collide with, sent shivers as explosive as the energy it took to split an atom.

  “Are you cold?” His warm breath grazed my lips.

  I shook my head. “No… I, I can’t explain it…” my voice trailed off.

  He placed his left hand just under my ear, tilting my head so that he had full access to my addled eyes as he glided his lips across mine, whispering, “I can’t either.” He dropped his hand and rested his palm on my chest plate. My thundering heart left no reason to pretend I wasn’t rattled. He held me to him, gently stroking my back until he felt my heart settle.

  “Let’s go get another drink, shall we?”

  I nodded, because although my heart had calmed down, I still hadn’t found my tongue.

  We came back and joined Sammie and Dirk briefly, giving them a larger breadth as they seemed to be hitting it off, sharing intimate details made for their ears only… well, sort of…

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, shoot.”

  “You served with Dirk prior to this set of orders?”

  He nodded and smiled, “Yes, we served together my first tour in Kuwait, before the whole thing went to shit and we pulled out in 1991... of course that’s probably not what you heard back here at home.”

  “What did you do after you left Kuwait? Take new orders overseas?”

  “Why would you say that?” He cocked an eyebrow at me as he rested his hand on the hip that skirted the surface from just below.

  “I don’t know; I mean, I’ve heard some guys once they go over, need to stay in it… that civilian life is too hard?”

  “I mean, that’s what happened, but it wasn’t like that. When I got out, I came home but it was no longer my home. It had become just a house with shit in it that I didn’t need any more. That I didn’t WANT any more.”

  It was as though I could see a movie playing behind his eyes; those faraway eyes moved me, so I reached out and rested my hand on his side. I wanted him to feel it was okay to talk to me.

  “I tried,” he said finally. “I tried to make it work. I finished my treatments, made it to all of my military psychologist appointments. Hell, I even got a job as a bartender at Joe’s Bar & Grille.” He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad, but I felt more like I was on leave, and when it was no longer a nice reprieve from the action I’d seen… and I realized it was all I had to look forward to, well, hell. That’s when I reupped.”

  “Wasn’t it hard on your family… your girlfriend? I mean, to lose you again after just having you home?”

  He chuckled to himself, “Shit Tess, they never got me home. My heart stayed in Kuwait."

  My eyes reassured him, my mouth parted, searching for the right words to say, but in the end all I did was stroke his side.

  “Can you believe it took me nearly four years of fucking off, traveling, living in various countries, and immersing myself in different cultures, to decide that the tapestry my life was being written on wasn’t one I’d be proud to share later…”

  I interrupted him. “So you reenlisted.”

  He smiled. “I did. I came here last year on a security billet.”

  “How did you give up the travels, the gypsy lifestyle?” I asked, secretly jealous of the opportunity to live in so many places.

  “You know, it wasn’t that hard… I mean, don’t get me wrong; I LOVED living in different countries—forty in four years—couch surfing on locals’ couches or staying at the youth hostels when there were vacancies.”

  I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrow at that one… He wasn’t staying with the flavor of the month? I mean, Jeezus, just look at him!

  Noah’s mouth formed an arrogant grin. “Your level of consciousness is so insightful, so wise.” He chuckled. “To answer the question you directed to me with your eyes… yeah I did that too.” We both chuckled, him for reading me so well, and me out of nervous embarrassment.

  How is any of this happening?

  Our conversation ebbed and flowed miraculously well. He really is an interesting person. We found ourselves getting along sexy-good, so to speak. He gave me a lavish leg massage with the majestic white mud. I hadn’t expected the Noah I was getting to know—the one sharing surprisingly intimate details about his time in the Marines—would be so much deeper than the playboy dance king I’d met.

  Time passed fabulously, and as I looked around after only God knows how many hours, I realized it was just Noah and me. Sure, lots of strangers paddled around in the warm water, but where were our friends? I checked my watch: 2034.

  Eight thirty? Holy shit, where did the time go?

  “…and when the snow melted, the roads opened back up and we were able to make it down out of the mountains.”

  “Noah, that truly sounds amazing, and I really hate to interrupt, but have you noticed where our friends went… or that it’s almost nine?”

  He blinked and lowered his eyebrows, looking a little unsettled. “Wow, Tessa. I can’t remember the last time—shit, if ever—I’ve felt so comfortable talking to someone that I lost track of time.” He raked his long, slender fingers through his wavy hair and grinned at me.

  Few things in my life made me want to fall to my knees in awestruck worship; his smile topped that list. His grin alone made the ladies want him and the gents want to be him; it truly was a panty-dropper. FUCK. I’m SO in trouble.

  Noah gave me his hand to help me as I stood. “Well, let’s go see about fin
ding them.” He flashed me that million dollar smile again. We both stood on slightly wobbly legs. We’d been in the water for hours, and it felt as though my bones had turned to jelly. With the sun hanging low in the sky, the wind had picked up, dropping the temperature to positively freezing. The gently dusting mist now blew hard, hitting us as a heavy blanket of water.

  “It’s amazing how fast the weather’s turned; let’s grab our towels. Could you tell it had gotten this bad when we were in the lagoon?” I shouted into the wind.

  He shook his head and held up a finger, indicating I should stay. He took off in a trot to where we’d placed our towels, not that they’d be worth a shit since the sky had been dumping on them for hours.

  Wrapped in our wet towels that acted only as damp wind-break, we kept our heads low as we fought the stiff wind on the way to the main side of Blue Lagoon. We looked in the café, locker rooms, and even walked the decks around the water but couldn’t see our friends anywhere.

  “Screw it,” I suggested, nearly choking on a mouthful of fine, driven spray. “Let’s shower and warm up. Get dressed.”

  “Agreed. Sooner or later, our group will turn up out front.”

  “The van is still here, but no one is there.” Noah frowned, full lips turned down and eyes squinched, a look of great perplexity.

  “It’s not like they could’ve gone far—and they would’ve at least said goodbye,” I said, confused and worried. “At least Sam would’ve…” my voice trailed off as I voiced a last ditch reassurance that Sammie wouldn’t have left me here. Alone. With Noah. Would she? And without the van no less? No, that doesn’t make sense. They’re here somewhere.

  “Hey, beeatches! Where the hell have you been?”

  I spun around and saw her hanging out the door of a large luxury motorhome, a crooked smile on her face and a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer in her hand. I could see our guys, a.k.a. the gang, behind her. I shouted over my shoulder at Noah and motioned for him to come over, ploughing across the icy parking lot slowly, so he’d have a chance to catch up, and so I wouldn’t fall on my ass. Navigating the ice with the wind blowing against me strained my abilities.

  “Shit, Tess,” Noah panted as he reached me, “I was getting worried. How’d you know they were in there?”

  “I didn’t. Sam must’ve seen me, ‘cause she hung out the door and called.”

  We reached the motorhome, tapped the snow and ice from our shoes on the bottom step, and climbed past Sammie into the warmth. Lucas, Ace, Stu, Ian, Sage, Ari, Dirk, Kari and some guy were all kicked back on the sectional, the captain’s chair, and assorted stools from the mini bar.

  “Shit, assholes, nice of you to send me the memo,” I verbally tossed into the proverbial air, waiting to see who had the catcher’s mitt big enough—so to speak—to catch it.

  “Now, now, pretty thing.”

  I averted my gaze from Ari, who I thought would respond, to the tan, fit man wearing low-slung surf shorts in the same silver shade as his hair. His silver-blue eyes added to his extremely unusual look. If I didn’t disregard all things supernatural so completely, I would’ve thought he was a vamp or something. He was so intensely handsome in such an extraordinary way, I actually found myself staring as I tried to make the southern drawl that oozed like molasses over his lips mesh with the bad-boy surf model I saw before me.

  “Don’t you go getting them bees in your bonnet all riled up. I believe it was all my doing.”

  Kari interrupted, “Sorry you were worried, Tessa, but we’re fine, and judging by how long it took you to notice we were gone, you were doing just fine yourselves. Forgive me. Please meet our new friend, Dax Fletcher. He’s in bonds and securities.” Kari said this last part with a hint of oh-là-là in her voice. The gang picked up on it.

  “Oooh, he’s in the stock market! Why didn’t you tell us he was a big man on Wall Street?”

  “Yeah, dumb shit, like you couldn’t tell by his rig?”

  “Any idiot could tell he was somebody! Look at this place!”

  As the banter among the guys continued, Kari and Sammie made their way over to me.

  “Sorry we made you worry. I really didn’t know we’d be drinking with Dax for this long.” Kari gave me a squeeze around the shoulders.

  “Yeah, I should’ve at least tried to find you. I’m sorry too,” Sammie said as she gave me a playful slug on the arm.

  “No worries, guys. Just glad everyone is okay. So, ‘fine-man’ Dax is a fine man on Wall Street. Way to go Kari!” I lifted my eyebrows provocatively at her and winked.

  “Shh, it is so not like that. Not like that at all… yet.” She gave me a playful nudge as she sauntered back to her exotic, alien-handsome man.

  I know. It’s not like that between Noah and me YET either.

  I looked over at Noah, and he smiled that smile that does things to me. His eyes, those stalker eyes that had been watching me for the past few weeks, remained trained on me, recording my every move. I found it both sexy and a little unnerving… so I laughed it off to myself.

  “Sam, who are you vibing on?”

  That really opened the flood-gates as she began sharing about Dirk. She thought she’d been all covert about her crush on him up until now; she wasn’t even close.

  I’d already had at least three shots since I had stepped into the motorhome; it seemed someone kept shoving them into my hand, and at this point I’d had just enough that I was buzzed and selectively listening to her. The cacophony surrounded me as a backdrop to my own thoughts—the guys sparring, razzing and joking with each other alongside Kari and Dax’s conversation, topped off by Sammie’s soliloquy—save me plenty of time to take it all in without having to join.

  The motorhome was PIMP, nicer than any Las Vegas suite I’d ever stayed in. Industrial Modern finishes in dark wood tones, stainless steel and natural granite stone showed that Dax obviously had good taste. The carpets of his—let’s call it what it really was—luxury touring bus, were plush. The furniture was exquisitely done in deep, dark leather, and the wood paneling in mahogany. AMAZING.

  “Hey, Tessa. Did you know that Dax rented this rig right after Prodigy left?” It took me a second to realize it was Ari who had directed this at me.

  “You mean the same Prodigy we saw in concert last weekend on March 28th? That Prodigy?”

  He nodded and turned back to Dax to learn more of his ‘greatness’.

  Oh! So, he RENTED it. I gave him too much credit for his good design taste. I knocked him down a couple of pegs on my personal score chart.

  After I took inventory of the bus and gave myself a tour of the upstairs, with its Jacuzzi, bedrooms and media room, I turned my attention inexorably back to Noah. First, I took notice of his height. He stood above average compared to my buds. A deep tan, one that looked like he had just returned from surfing somewhere exotic like off the coast of Thailand, darkened his skin. His unruly mass of finger combed waves hung over his collar. A rough five o’clock shadow etched deeper tones above his full upper lip and along his strong jawline. High cheek bones gave structure and highlight to his almond shaped eyes.

  After swimming, he had changed into a navy Henley and dark jeans. His shirt, open at the neck, showed his defined upper pecks and collar bones and were pushed up his strong forearms. He had a long torso, and the hem of his shirt just touched the top of his low-slung pants, so that every time he tasted his beer or raised his hand to pat someone on the shoulder, I could see his chiseled lower abdomen and “V” that disappeared into his waistband.

  Holy shit, he’s beautiful.

  As he shifted his stance and turned his back more to me, I watched his mannerisms. He acted respectful with the guys but mixed the ‘bro’ comradery with just enough raunch to be deemed cool. He had a genuinely infectious laugh; a warm, hardy, full-bellied sound that seemed to make everyone on the bus join in, even if they were involved in other conversations. He worked the room with ease and dominated the conversation, but it never came across as disingenuous or conde
scending. I could tell everyone liked him. Shifting my attention to the physical, I admired his back’s network of sinewy muscles that rippled and bunched under his cotton shirt every time he lifted his arms or moved. And in true Tessa fashion, I saved the best for last. His ass.

  Ever since the ninth grade when I fell in “like” with a JV soccer player, I have loved small, tight, firm asses. Noah’s ranked with the best of them. Noah’s waist narrowed, and his fine ass followed the precise lines God had intended when he created him. What a masterpiece, even up to littlest detail—those two cute upper-butt ‘dimples’.

  Oh Lawdy! Help me now! It had to be illegal to be as ruggedly good-looking as Noah without knowing or even trying.

  I glanced at my watch, 2253.

  Holy Shit, it’s almost 11? Where did the time go?

  Since a little before nine, after Noah and I joined everyone in the tour bus, we’d continued to drink, listen to the beats through the impressive sound system, and kick back. I cannot speak for everyone, but I really enjoyed myself. I especially enjoyed getting to know Dax.

  He and Kari had instant chemistry—a lot like Noah and I do—and I was so bummed to hear he was only here for four more days. I could tell Kari was too, but her whole demeanor changed for the better as soon as he offhandedly announced that tomorrow he’d call his office and let them know he would be extending his vacation. Now of course, being the boss-man, he got to hang out here until the first week in May, just under four more weeks.

  It’s amazing how chance encounters can change life plans. Take for instance Dax meeting Kari. He was extending his trip another three weeks, so he could spend more time with her, in spite of the fact they’d just met. Kari was crossing her fingers that when she returned to work on Monday she’d be allowed leave, so the two of them could tour around together.

  Take it easy! Breathe… I stood up and rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension in my neck.

  Maybe it was the stale, cigarette-clouded air in the bus, or perhaps I’d just had too much to drink, but I’d been seriously overthinking things, and when I did that, I tended to get myself tied into knots. Whatever the reason… I. NEEDED. AIR.