"This is the city that never sleeps. Who wants to be tied down on our last night here?"
Crash did. He’d be very happy to spend his last night here with Trish, rather than going to some overpriced strip club where he could look and not touch. He wouldn’t even mind if Trish tied him down—literally. Hell, he was open-minded. He wasn’t opposed to trying something once.
"Whatever you say. You tell your sister we’ve been cut loose?"
"Yeah. She texted that she’s here already."
Hearing that had Crash’s heart rate and his pace speeding up. He shot Zippy a sideways glance and hoped the anticipation of seeing Trish again wasn’t showing all over his face.
When had he totally lost his cool around women? He should be able to see her again without getting as breathless as a schoolgirl. Then again, the memory of being with her last night was so fresh that if he concentrated hard enough, he could bring to mind all the vivid details. The sound of her coming, the heat of her surrounding him, the softness of her skin and the passion of her mouth beneath his.
Crap. Now he was getting hard. Crash drew in a breath and gave himself a mental slap. They still needed to check out, and with them all getting cut loose at the same time it was taking a while to get off the boat.
He and Zippy joined the masses on the hanger deck inching along in the line that had no doubt begun to form at the sound of liberty call nearly twenty minutes ago. The men waiting engaged in small talk as they crept forward, ramping downward to the level below where the Officer of the Day stood his watch on the quarterdeck.
Finally, Crash and Zippy reached the OOD. Crash stood at attention in front of the duty, held his ID up with his left hand and snapped into a well-practiced salute with his right. "Permission to go ashore, sir."
The OOD returned the salute. "Permission granted."
Crash executed a facing movement and stepped from the quarterdeck to the top of the brow. Making a sharp turn to the front of the ship, he saluted the flag, faced back down the gangplank and stepped off. Zippy, having repeated every one of Crash’s steps was close behind.
Then they were free, striding down the brow that shook with the steps of so many Marines and Sailors eager to get to their goal—the pleasures of New York. Crash didn’t have to go very far to find his objective. When they reached the curb he spotted the now familiar car with the New Jersey license plates. Trish stood beside it, looking amazing in another dress. This one pink and a little lower cut in the front. Short enough that, with the high heels, her legs looked a mile long.
When he could pull his gaze away from Trish, he noticed Dawn and tried not to let his reaction to her outfit show on his face. Trish must have been working a plan of her own, one that complimented his perfectly. Dawn was dressed to impress. Or at least to attract a man with a breast fetish like Zippy. Crash knew instinctively, even before seeing her satisfied grin, that Trish had a hand in how Dawn looked today.
He grinned, and when they were closer, his smile only got wider when he saw the devilish expression cross her face.
"Hi. About time they let you two go." Trish accepted her brother’s hug.
"Yeah, I know. Tell me about it," Zippy grumbled.
When Zippy stepped back, she turned to Crash. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he stiffened. He glanced at Zippy and saw he’d moved on to saying hello to Dawn. With the amount of cleavage she was sporting, Crash figured he had a few seconds leeway with Trish.
"Hey." She smiled up at him and he was happy for the two condoms in his pocket, because if presented with the opportunity there was no way he’d give up the opportunity to be with this woman.
"Hey." Crash squeezed her tight, enjoying the feel of her in his arms before he forced himself to let her go and take a step back. He realized he was being rude and yanked his focus off Trish long enough to be polite to her friend. "Hey, Dawn."
"Crash. Nice to see you again."
Since she’d slept through his departure this morning, he supposed she could have been embarrassed that the last time he’d seen her she’d been stumbling drunk and attached at the lips to his buddy. But one look at her confidant strut as she walked in her mile-high heels around the car, swaying in the hips the entire way, told him she definitely was not that type to get embarrassed, which was fine. More power to her and even better for his plan for a repeat of last night.
"I made a reservation at the Irish pub next to my hotel. They’ve got killer shepherd’s pie, and drink specials and live music tonight." Trish glanced at Crash. "Dollar shots before six."
He stopped, one hand on the door handle of the car. "Purple ones?"
"I sure hope so." Trish shot him a grin and then got into the driver’s seat.
Crash couldn’t help the smile that got so big his face was going to start to hurt soon if he didn’t control it. She wanted the time with him as much as he wanted the time alone with her, and she’d done her research. Dollar shots right next door to the hotel—plans for tonight were sure looking good.
~
Trish leaned toward Crash in the red vinyl booth and angled her mouth toward his ear. "They’re getting drunk."
"Yes, they are." Truth be told, so was Crash. Not exactly drunk, but definitely feeling the effects.
He could get away with nursing one beer, but when the rounds of shots kept coming, it would have seemed suspicious if Crash had refused to partake while he kept pushing them on Zippy.
Still, things were going just as planned. Having the shots before the food arrived only helped his case with Zippy and Dawn. The two were on the dance floor grinding against each other. Only a matter of time now. Crash glanced at his watch. Nearly nineteen-hundred hours.
"What time is it?" Trish hadn’t missed the move. They were both more than conscious of their limited time tonight.
"Almost seven o’clock," Crash answered.
"I don’t like this Cinderella liberty." Her pout drew his gaze to her lips.
"Me either."
Trish let out a deep sigh. "Even if Dawn can keep Danny distracted so he doesn’t want to leave early to go to that club you told me about, we should still leave no later than eleven-thirty to make sure you’re not late. Just in case we hit traffic."
"Yeah." He didn’t want to talk about leaving. He also didn’t want to be here in public where he couldn’t touch her the way he wanted.
Then again, the bar was dim, lit by a few hanging lamps and some neon signs. Crash moved his hand to her thigh, hidden by the table in front of them. A sly smile curved her lips as she rested her hand on his leg, then moved it farther up until just the tip of her finger brushed the crotch of his pants.
His eyes widened before he forced his expression to be neutral. If she wanted to play, he could play. He bunched the fabric of her dress and inched it up. His fingertips brushed the warm skin on the inside of her thigh. She drew in a breath and let it out.
In this very public place, while he kept his gaze trained on her brother on the dance floor, Crash pushed higher until he hit the lace of her underwear. She spread her legs just a bit wider and he started to sweat. Hard as a rock now, he was throbbing behind the fabric of his uniform pants while she ran her finger up and down the outline of his length.
Damn, this was a turn on. He had a feeling it was only going to get hotter, because he had no plans of stopping. Crash slipped beneath the edge of her panties. She was hot and wet, and all for him. He slid between her lips. Her hand on him faltered before she resumed her slow, light stroke over the pants hiding his erection. He didn’t treat her quite so gently. With the tip of one finger he zeroed in on her clit, flicking it fast and hard. She jumped beneath his touch but didn’t close her legs or push him away.
"How’re ya doing?" He glanced her direction, before forcing himself to keep an eye on Zippy.
"Fine." She swallowed hard enough for him to hear her throat working.
"Good." Crash slid a finger inside her, and then a second. He stroked in and out until he heard her draw in
a sharp breath. He went back to her clit, circling the tiny nub fast. It wasn’t the ideal angle or position for this, but he managed it.
One quick glance at Trish, biting her lower lip, told him it was working. He reversed direction, circling the other way, and felt her jump. She angled her hips, tipping them just a bit, and he heard the tiniest of moans escape her throat. He moved faster. Harder. She was going to come. Right here, right now. At least she would if he had anything to do with it. But good lord, it might just kill him if she did.
She came apart slowly. It started with tiny thrusts of her hips and moved to her clenching her thighs, but he didn’t let up. He kept at it until she was trembling from the effort to stay silent and control her expression. She wasn’t as good at controlling her breathing. He heard every closed-mouthed breath tinged with a tiny sound of pleasure that twisted the need inside him tighter. It was by far the most incredible thing he’d ever experienced with a woman in what had been a long and sordid life.
Finally, he eased up on her. He righted her dress and she sagged against the back of the booth. Her hand had stayed in his lap throughout it all, clenched in a tiny fist as she’d come. Now, she spread her fingers over him again and stroked his length. Her touch on him grew firmer and quickened.
Her effort had him smiling. "Trying to get back at me?"
"Mmm, hmm." She shot him a sideways glance.
"Not gonna work, darlin’." Not that he minded her trying. He grinned. "These pants are too thick."
"You won’t have pants on later." She pulled her finger away and raised the beer bottle to her lips with one shaky hand.
No, he certainly hoped he wouldn’t have pants on later. Crash wanted to guarantee that. In fact, the sooner the better. He raised one hand to signal the waitress.
Trish frowned. "What are you doing?"
"Knocking your brother out for the count." Crash knew exactly how to do that. Enough with the waiting. It was time to get serious.
Trish’s brows rose. "Okay."
The waitress arrived. "Yes, sir?"
"A double tequila on the rocks." He glanced at Trish and tipped his head toward Dawn on the dance floor. "What’s her downfall?"
"Cosmopolitans."
He glanced back at the waitress. "And one of those, please. Got that?"
"Yes, sir. I’ll be right back with your drinks."
"Thanks." As she left for the bar, Crash eyed the dance floor one more time. The two unknowing victims of their plan only had eyes for each other.
Perfect.
Chapter 7
Danny’s eyelids drooped as the level of tequila in the glass moved lower and the minutes ticked by.
Trish was keenly aware of the time passing, every second bringing them closer to midnight. She had no intention of letting Crash go without at least an hour alone with him. Three hours would be even better. Hating the deadline hanging over their heads, she felt the pressure and searched for some way to get her brother moving.
"Hey, you guys want to run upstairs to the hotel room with me? These shoes are killing me. I want to change them real quick."
"Sure. We’ll come with you." Obviously wise to her motivation, Crash stood.
Danny, still seated with his arm around Dawn at the table, frowned. "Can’t you go do that and come back here?"
"I think we should go with her. Um, my feet hurt too." Dawn caught Trish’s gaze and mouthed silently, "Thank you."
Dawn must have thought Trish was trying to arrange it so she and Danny could have time together in the room. That worked for Trish. As long as the result was time with Crash alone and at least partially naked, it was fine with her.
"Okay. Fine." Danny stood and swayed a bit, his eyes not quite focused. "Did we pay the bill?"
"Yeah. We’re all set." Trish cringed and glanced at Crash. Maybe they’d done too good of a job getting her brother liquored up. How was he going to walk back on the ship in this condition?
Crash leaned low. "We got a few hours. He’ll be a’ight."
She hoped so. But right now she couldn’t worry about how quickly Danny would metabolize the tequila. Trish was more concerned if Dawn could lure him into the bedroom and close the deal so she could be with Crash.
"Come on. Let’s go." Trish led the way out of the crowded pub and out onto the sidewalk.
A few steps had them inside the hotel lobby and to the elevators as her heart pounded. Upstairs in the hall outside her room, the adrenaline coursing through her veins had her hand trembling. Trish had to work to hold steady and shove the keycard into the slot in her door. Finally, the light turned green and she turned the knob, pushing the door wide.
Now what? How did she get Danny and Dawn into the bedroom without looking obvious? They were into each other, but unlike last night, they hadn’t been making out in the bar, or in the street, or in the elevator . . .
"Danny, can you help me? My other shoes are on the shelf in the closet and I won’t be able to reach them." Dawn the seductress batted her eyelashes at Danny.
Trish should have known she wouldn’t have to worry about helping her friend get a man into bed. Trish tried not to think too hard about the fact that man was her brother.
"Uh, sure." He glanced back at Crash before Dawn pulled him into the bedroom and closed the door behind them.
Trish shook her head. "Wow, she’s good."
"Nuh, uh. You’re good. Absolutely amazing." Crash had his hands on her in an instant. "And, oh my God, I thought it would about kill me when you came in the bar."
"You?" She raised a brow. "How do you think I felt? I had to pretend nothing was going on."
Crash dipped lower, his lips just inches from hers. "Oh, there was definitely something going on."
Yes, there was, and she hoped it would happen again. Trish closed the distance and pressed her mouth against his. Crash thrust his tongue between her lips as he backed her up the few feet until she was pressed against the door.
When he broke from her mouth and moved on to biting her neck, she hardly had enough breath to ask, "Should I open the sofabed?"
"No. This is good." He slid down her body until he was on his knees in front of her, his hands moving beneath her dress and up the bare skin of her thighs.
"Don’t you want to take off your uniform?" Trish wondered where the fastidious Marine who hung up his T-shirts had gone.
"Too risky. Don’t know how long they’ll be." Crash pressed his lips against first one thigh, and then the other while his fingers slid over her ass.
"Aren’t you worried about messing it up?" It was amazing she could still think given what he was doing to her, but Trish managed it. Barely.
"Doesn’t matter. Only have to check in tonight. Tomorrow we’ll be in flight suits, and then we’ll be home." He pulled down her underwear and there was no more discussion, because his mouth was busy elsewhere.
Crash spread her with his thumbs and drove his tongue into her sensitive flesh. Trish gasped at the feel of it, but she sure as hell didn’t want him to stop. She let him know that by moving her feet another step apart and giving him better access. He answered that cue with a low groan.
As much as she wanted this, she wanted him inside her more. "Crash, we don’t know how long we have. Just fuck me."
He pulled back and stared up at her, his sandy brows raised high. "You Jersey girls sure say things plain." Then a smile spread across his face. "I like it."
Crash stood and Trish found herself hoisted up against him and carried around the half wall to the kitchenette area. This was good. At least there they would have a little bit of privacy should Danny come out of the bedroom. Crash set her on top of the counter and reached into his pocket.
She watched him tear into one of the condoms he had stashed in his pants. "I see you came packing."
"You have no idea how hard it was to get these without Zippy seeing me." He shook his head as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. Pushing his underwear down, Crash rolled the latex over his length. His eyes
narrowed as he pulled her hips forward and stepped between her spread thighs. "It was well worth the trouble."
Crash pushed inside her with one thrust. After a night of sitting next to him anticipating this moment, and after that orgasm in the bar and his tongue on her just now, she was more than ready.
Eyes closed, Trish let her head fall back against the cabinet behind her and concentrated on the sensations. The feeling of Crash filling her, stroking into her, hard but slow. Fully dressed, he stood on tiptoe to reach her on the counter.
He seemed to throw his whole body into loving her. As he’d said last night, this was predeployment sex. She was sure he was putting everything he had into this, and she was willing to give all she had to him on their last night together.
Crash gripped her hips with both hands and slammed his mouth into hers. His motion into her sped, his breathing increasing along with his stroke. He stiffened beneath the hands she had braced on his arms. She felt the tremor run through him and knew he was coming.
It was as if he came back to his senses once the initial frenzy was over. His sky blue eyes opened and he watched her face. He stayed inside, pressed deep, making the tiniest of motions into her. Wetting one thumb with his tongue, he reached between them and rubbed her clit, slow and gentle.
Trish’s eyes drifted shut and her mouth opened on a breath as he zeroed in on the spot that would bring her so much ecstasy. Her muscles were already clenching, primed for release, when Crash pressed harder, working her faster. He leaned close and pulled her earlobe between his teeth, biting just hard enough to let her know he wanted to devour her as much as she wanted him to.
"Oh, God." He let out a breath and she felt the warmth wash over her. "I can feel you squeezing me."
The sound of his voice, the heat of his mouth against her ear, was all it took. Trish felt the climax start to break over her. Her breath came in quick bursts and she couldn’t control the sounds of her pleasure.
Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance) Page 60