Command Performance

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Command Performance Page 9

by Sara Jane Stone


  Maggie closed the door behind her, preventing the warm, humid air from slipping into the air-conditioned house. She waved to the chairs with her notepad. “Would you like to sit?”

  Lips pursed, gaze focused, her left hand clutching her pen like a weapon—it was a textbook red light, don’t-touch-me look. But he took a step forward anyway. Maybe it was that bra strap or maybe it was the wine. Either way something had short-circuited his brain, allowing the part of his body below his belt to call the shots. One kiss—what could it hurt?

  “I’ve been thinking about what we discussed in the car earlier,” he said. “About Saturday being a one-time thing.” Wrapping his hand around her hip, he pulled her to him. His other hand pried the notebook out of her grasp, tossing it on a nearby chair. Then he stole her pen. “Thing is, I want a repeat performance.”

  Maggie pressed her hands against his chest. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Maybe.” He ran his free hand up and down the soft curve of her body. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I want you, Maggie.”

  It was the God’s honest truth. His hands itched to tease her breasts and he didn’t want to stop there.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.” She tried to step out of his grasp, but her body didn’t put any real effort into it. In her mind, she might be ticking off all the reasons they shouldn’t do this, but he knew her body wanted him. Her fingers burrowed into his shirt even as the rest of her pulled away.

  But he couldn’t take the chance her brain would win the battle. “How about a kiss for a question? One little kiss? What could it hurt?”

  “A kiss—”

  He cut her off, capturing her mouth with his. He kissed her hard, his tongue running over her lips, demanding entrance. It was the Marriott elevator all over again. She wanted to let go and abandon herself to him. He could feel it in the way her hips swayed toward him and then pulled back. But this time, it wasn’t the fear of discovery that held her back. It was those damn thoughts and doubts rushing through her mind.

  He wanted to make her forget her fears and lose herself in his kiss. Snaking one arm around her back, holding her close, he worked his free hand under her shirt until he felt bare skin. Palm flat against her taut stomach, his fingers drifted upward, reaching for her bra. Edging his hand underneath the fabric-covered wire, he didn’t stop until the full weight of her breast rested in his palm. He squeezed then brushed his hand back and forth over her taut nipple, teasing, touching, demanding, waiting for the moment her desire pushed aside her fears and she gave in to the sensations.

  It didn’t take long. Maggie melted into his touch and he doubted she remembered his offer to answer a question in exchange for their kiss, which suited him just fine. He had no intention of getting to the Q & A part of their little game.

  Driving his tongue into her mouth, Hunter withdrew his hand from under her shirt and let go of her waist. Before she could back away, he wrapped his hands around the sides of her head, massaging his fingers into her scalp as he kissed her. Holding her still, he thrust his tongue forward and back against hers, wishing it was another part of his anatomy.

  “Christ, Maggie, I want you,” he muttered, their lips still touching, his fingers buried in her hair. “I want to make you lose control.”

  * * *

  MAGGIE WENT FROM pliant to stiff as a board in a heartbeat. The panic she’d felt in his hotel room Saturday night returned in a rush. Oh, God. Oh, God. What was she doing? Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him away.

  “We can’t do this,” she said, meeting his gaze, the words coming out in a rush. “We’re working together. I need to interview you in the morning. It wouldn’t be professional.”

  “I hate to admit it, but you’re right,” he said, but he didn’t move away.

  “I think you should go.” She let her hand fall from his chest as she stepped back. “We’ll keep our interviews to the daylight hours from now on.” Still trembling from the wild mix of lust and alarm, she bent over to pick up her discarded notebook.

  “I’m afraid I’ve had too much wine to drive tonight,” he admitted. “Any chance I could crash on your couch?”

  Her head snapped up, her eyes meeting his somewhat sheepish gaze. She couldn’t let him sleep here. This man tested the limits of her self-control. He made her forget herself and that couldn’t happen again.

  “I’ll call you a cab,” she said quickly, moving to the door.

  “No, don’t worry about it.” He shook his head, his voice slightly slurred. “I’m sure I’ll be fine after a glass of water. It’s probably more of a reaction to the pain pill I took earlier for my shoulder. They sometimes leave me a little light-headed. If I sit down for a few minutes and have something to drink, I’ll be okay to hit the road.”

  “Pain pill,” she repeated as alarm bells went off in her head.

  “Might also be the reason I couldn’t keep my hands off you,” he added, his eyes dropping to her chest. “Although I suspect that has more to do with you than the wine.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her. Alcohol and pain pills. Heaven help her, he had more in common with her father than she’d initially suspected.

  Despite what had just happened, she’d never let anyone, not even her worst enemy, drive while intoxicated. She’d spent too many sleepless nights wondering if her father would risk his life behind the wheel or call a cab to get home from the bar. She could let Hunter crash here for one night. It might not be professional, or good for her sanity, but then neither was kissing him on the porch, and she couldn’t blame her lapse in judgment on the wine.

  “You can stay in the downstairs guest room. But only for tonight.”

  Hunter smiled his relief. “Great. You won’t even know I’m here. I promise.”

  Somehow she doubted that. His presence seemed to drift through the walls, filling the house. “Let me get my notes and I’ll show you to your room.”

  Maggie heard a faint vibrating noise as she retrieved her notepad from the chair. She looked back at Hunter and saw him pull his phone from his pocket.

  He frowned and his hazy I’m-too-drunk-to-drive look vanished. “I need to take this. If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Of course,” she said in her best all-business tone. “You can use my study. First door on the left. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks.”

  Maggie followed him inside, watching as he pressed a button and raised the phone to his ear. Judging from his serious expression, she guessed his commanding officer or someone from his team was on the other line.

  “Sierra?” he said before the kitchen door swung shut behind him.

  Or maybe not. Whoever it was, she was grateful for the interruption.

  Maggie set her notebook on the island and scanned her list of unanswered questions. But her mind refused to focus. What had happened on the porch had left her seriously shaken. Out of control, but not in the way that led to orgasms.

  She felt something for him. Common sense told her she wasn’t falling in love with him. How could she? She’d only known the man a matter of days, and she had a sneaking suspicion he’d only kissed her tonight to stop her from asking questions. He’d gone from drunk to serious in a matter of seconds when he’d received that call. She doubted alcohol had been the driving factor behind his little seduction. It was just one more way for him to gain the upper hand.

  But whatever Hunter’s reasons, they didn’t change the fact that she felt something. Wild, crazy lust. And from where she was standing now, lust seemed just as dangerous as handing over her heart.

  Maggie closed her notebook and headed for the hallway. Tomorrow she’d refocus on interviewing Hunter. They could start over breakfast. She pushed through the swinging door and stepped into the hall to prepare the guest room.

  “Sierra, you’re not listening to me.” Hunter’s voice slipped into the hall.

  Maggie stilled. Who was Sierra?

  Deciding the gu
est bedroom could wait, she tiptoed up to her study door and pressed her ear against the wood.

  “No, Sierra. I want you to stay there.” Hunter sounded frustrated and he wasn’t bothering to keep his voice down. “Last time you left, you almost died. You’re ready to leave when the doctors say you’re ready. Not a moment before. Is that clear?”

  There was a brief pause. “I’ll find a way to get the money. Don’t worry about that. How much more do you need?”

  What did this mysterious woman need money for?

  “Okay. That’s doable.” His tone was resigned. “When do you need it?”

  Another pause.

  “Okay. Let them know I’ll send a check.”

  Hunter was quiet for a minute.

  “No, I’m not at the base, but your doctors have my address. I emailed it to them this afternoon. Just do me a favor and don’t leave, okay? You need to be there. Can you promise me you’ll stay?” Silence. And then, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  She heard footsteps and rushed away from the door and down the hall to the front stairs. The writer in her wanted to pepper him with questions. Who was this woman? What did she mean to him? Was she his girlfriend? He had referenced doctors on the phone. Maybe she was someone he’d met while recovering from his gunshot wound?

  A sinking feeling settled in her gut and she took the stairs two at a time. From the sound of their conversation, Sierra wasn’t a casual acquaintance. What if Hunter was another cheating bastard?

  No. Not possible. Hunter Cross might be a controlling army ranger today, but on Saturday night, he’d been a gentleman.

  Still, that didn’t explain Sierra.

  Maggie reached the second floor and paused. She had to confront him. But she’d wait until tomorrow. He could find his way to the guest room or crash on the couch, but after all that had happened this evening, she needed a break from the man who threatened to send her life—her career, her emotions, everything—out of control.

  9

  HUNTER SANK INTO the desk chair and closed his eyes. In front of him sat Maggie’s computer. Now would be the perfect time to do a little recon, maybe take a peek at the notes she’d typed up and see how much she knew about the snafu that had left him with a bullet in his shoulder. But he couldn’t take his mind off his conversation with Sierra.

  How could she walk away from rehab when only a few months ago she’d nearly died from an overdose? She’d been damn lucky he’d been stateside when her boyfriend of the week had called him to say Sierra was unconscious. He’d rushed over to his sister’s apartment and found her alone. The bastard boyfriend hadn’t even waited around for him to show up and take her to the hospital.

  The helpless fear he’d experienced sitting at her bedside came rushing back, and he pushed it away. He didn’t do helpless. Sierra needed to stay in rehab. Whatever it took, he’d do it.

  Hunter drew a deep breath, but the air inside Maggie’s study felt hot and stifling. Fresh air. That’s what he needed now. A long walk. Then when he got back to the house, after Maggie had fallen asleep, he could snoop around her computer and focus on the job he was getting paid to do before crashing in her guest room.

  He stood and left the study, pocketing his phone. After poking his head into the kitchen and finding it empty, he went to the base of the stairs. “Maggie?”

  “Yes?” She sounded distant. Hell, in this house she could be half a mile away. But then he heard footsteps and a second later she appeared at the top of the stairs. She offered a forced smile. Her hair hung loose, the soft curls grazing her shoulders. Had she been in bed? His body instantly responded, while his mind silently chastised him. Don’t go there.

  “I’m going out for a walk,” he called up to her. “I need some fresh air. Those pain pills...they’re really getting to me. No need to wait up.”

  Maggie nodded. “Okay. The guest room is the first door on the right past the living room. The sheets on the bed should be clean. I didn’t get a chance to check them, but—”

  “Any sheets work for me. I won’t be long. And I won’t disturb you when I come back in. Good night.”

  He turned toward the front door.

  “Oh, and Hunter?” she called after him.

  Hand on the knob, he looked back up the stairs. Maggie bit her lip as if she wasn’t sure she should have called him back.

  “Please lock up when you come inside.”

  “Will do.” He watched her disappear down the dark hall, wondering if she was just tired or disappointed with their first day of interviews. She’d probably hoped he’d spill his guts over dinner. Not going to happen, tonight or any other night. Talking to Sierra had served as a wake-up call. He needed to follow his orders and get his pay raise. His sister’s recovery and her future hung in the balance. This wasn’t just about him. Sierra needed him.

  He stepped out into the warm summer night and checked his watch. Nearly 2100 hours and the sun still hovered above the horizon. A cool breeze drifted past and he decided to head into the light wind. He had a hunch he’d find the Hudson River beyond Maggie’s manicured fields.

  As he walked, he ran through the numbers in his head. His checking account currently held about two thousand, and Sierra needed every penny to pay for another month in rehab. If he didn’t spend a dime between now and his next paycheck, he could swing it. Barely. But if the doctors demanded Sierra stay at the clinic for another month? He’d better be back on active duty. He needed the extra parachute duty pay. And to earn that, he had to complete parachute jumps even if his shoulder protested.

  Hunter picked up the pace, trying to burn off his frustration with movement. Rehab better work this time. If Sierra started using again when she got out, he didn’t know what he’d do. Come up with the money somehow.

  He heard the sound of the water before he saw the riverbank. In the fading light, he spotted a few boats floating downstream. A fence stood about fifty paces away and then the hill dropped off sharply. Railroad tracks crossed below, running parallel to the river. With a little more light, or his night vision equipment, he’d be able to see across to the other side. But tonight, the moon didn’t shine brightly enough to make out anything beyond the center of the Hudson.

  Not even with the extra couple of hundred a month in jump pay could he ever dream of living in a place like this. Waterfront property would forever be out of his reach unless he wanted to live by a swamp—or he hooked up long-term with a woman like Maggie.

  Not going to happen, he thought, closing his eyes. The Rangers were more than a job; they were his life. And it was a life that didn’t have a place for a relationship with Little Miss Maggie, at least not the boyfriend/girlfriend kind.

  Turning away from the river, Hunter stared at the massive brick house in the distance. It didn’t matter who Maggie was to him or how much he wanted to see her naked again. He needed to put an end to this mission and get back to his life. Sierra needed him. His team needed him. And Maggie didn’t. She’d made that perfectly clear when she’d walked out Saturday night. She’d been looking for a way to expand her sexual horizons and get over her ex.

  Part of him wanted to be her go-to guy for sexual fantasies. What they’d done Saturday night had been the tip of the iceberg. Seeing her at work and learning what she’d gone through as a child, he had a better understanding of why she wanted to relinquish her control in the bedroom. He wanted to be the one who set her free from her responsibilities. Hell, he wanted to be the guy who bound her to the bedpost and gave her orgasm after sweet orgasm.

  But he couldn’t do that. Not while they were working together.

  Hunter shook his head and headed for the house. It was time to get to work. He quickly retraced his steps and slipped in the main entrance, turning the lock behind him. Moving as silently as an intruder just in case Maggie hadn’t fallen asleep yet, Hunter made his way down the hall to her study. He opened the door and slipped into the dark, empty room. Without turning on a light, he crossed to the desk and slid into the c
hair.

  Feeling like a snake even though he’d completed similar missions in the past, he opened her laptop. Then he withdrew his phone and dialed.

  “Connor.” His teammate, the computer specialist, answered after the first ring.

  “Hey, man, you busy?” Hunter pressed the power button and waited for the computer to come to life.

  “Hunter. Good to hear from you. You recovered yet? I haven’t seen you around the base.”

  “I’m back, but working on something for the colonel, and I need your skills.” The screen lit up, and as he’d suspected, it asked for a password. “How do I hack into a password-protected computer?”

  “Start with guessing.”

  Hunter came up blank. Maggie didn’t have a living pet as far as he could tell and he didn’t know enough about her to come up with anything else. He doubted she’d use linguine Alfredo or the color green for her password.

  “I’ve got nothing,” he said.

  “Okay, your phone has a SIM card in it. You still have that USB drive I gave you on your keychain?”

  “Yeah.” He reached for a piece of paper and a pen. Connor walked him through the steps and he wrote everything down.

  “Now hang up and download the program I just sent to your SIM, pop it into the USB drive and then plug that into the computer.”

  Hunter followed his teammate’s instructions, keeping one ear out for any sounds in the hall. Five minutes later, he was in. He called Connor back. “Got it. Thanks, man. I owe you a beer when I get back.”

  “Planning on coming back soon? We’re gonna miss your sorry ass on this week’s training op.”

  “I’ll be back this weekend. I need you and some of the other guys to sit down for an interview with a professor who’s writing a book about us.”

  “No shit,” Connor said. “She wants to talk to all of us?”

  “Yeah. Get different sides of the story.”

  “She’s not some journalist trying to make us look like a bunch of fools, is she? Logan would hate to have the whole world know about that little clusterfuck.”

 

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