Terms of Surrender

by Leslie Kelly

  “Is there ever a good time to give up on something that could be spectacular just because the timing’s not right?” he countered.

  Spectacular. Wow. It had been. And oh, did she like that he thought so, too.

  He wasn’t finished. “How can you just decide you don’t have a chance of winning? It’s like you’re never even picking up the bat to take a swing. That’s pretty cowardly.”

  And to think she’d recently decided she was going to sleep with him again. Right now, she wanted to tape his mouth shut.

  Or fill it with something. Hmm…

  “Discretion is the better part of valor,” she quoted.

  “Winners never quit.”

  “Those who fight and run away…”

  “Will get their asses chased to the ends of the earth by the U.S. Navy!”

  Every boy in the room laughed and whooped at that one.

  “I mean,” she said, once they’d quieted again, “sometimes it’s better to not take a chance.”

  “Sorry. Playing it safe—never taking risks—is definitely not something we teach around here.”

  “We’re not talking about warfare.”

  He grinned at the other males in the room. “Hey, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

  They again laughed with him. He had a rapport with the boys—they obviously liked him, respected him.

  But he was not helping here. Probably because he was talking about them—their personal relationship—while she was talking about…

  Them. Their personal relationship.

  Damn it, she’d been doing the same thing. Pretending to be imparting some kind of lesson when, in reality, she’d been sending him a message about why she’d turned him down, why she shouldn’t change her mind.

  Of course, considering she’d already pretty well changed her mind, she had to wonder why she bothered making the effort.

  “I suppose you could go into that kind of relationship with your guard up, expecting nothing, not allowing yourself to feel anything.” Seeing the way his brow drew lower over his eyes, she added, “Don’t you go into battle that way?”

  “We go in expecting to triumph,” he told her. “Thoughts of defeat don’t ever enter our minds.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I promise you, it’s really not that hard,” he murmured.

  She tore her gaze off his face, which had suddenly softened with tenderness, as if he wanted to tell her she was wrong, that she should expect they could make it. They could win in this crazy romantic-sexual game they’d been playing since the moment they’d met.

  But she just didn’t buy it. Not in the long run.

  Addressing the boys, she added, “But it doesn’t work that way. Not for everybody. So is that really wise? Is it worth doing it if you’re not going into it with your whole heart?”

  A student whooped. “Hells yeah, it’s worth it! Long as I’m going into it with my whole…”

  “Watch it!” Danny snapped, frowning and pointing an index finger at the kid.

  The boy, obviously used to bragging around his pals, bit his lip and stared at Marissa. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “It’s all right,” she replied. “And on that note, I think we’re out of time.”

  A few groans said the students weren’t necessarily ready to end this conversation. But Marissa was. Most definitely.

  Smiling at the boys who stopped by to thank her, she quickly turned her attention back to her notes. Next time, she was going to have to print them in a huge font, and study them intently before she walked through the door of the classroom.

  Not getting the taste kissed out of her mouth by Danny Wilkes right before a lecture would probably be a good idea, too.

  “So, got anything you want to talk about?” he asked once they were alone in the room.

  “Nope.”

  “Those certainly were some interesting remarks.”

  “I didn’t actually say…”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “Hell.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I think it made the boys like you more. You have street cred—they think you’re real.”

  “A real blithering idiot,” she mumbled.

  “You didn’t blither at all. Huh. Blither, is that a real word?”

  “I have no idea. And thanks.”

  “Hey, I’m serious. You might not have been reading off your notes, but everything you said makes sense.”

  He stepped closer, filling all the airspace around her. She should tell him not to invade her personal bubble like that—she couldn’t think when he did. But somehow, she couldn’t manage it.

  It simply felt too good to be close to him.

  “I’m impressed. Doctor Marshall.”

  She managed a slight step back, mindful of the fact that chattering students were walking by in the hall, right outside the closed door. “Well, you didn’t help much.”

  “Aww, I’m crushed. I thought I did great. Got them to believe you didn’t really say what they thought you said…”

  “Thanks,” she said, unable to prevent a tiny grin. He was just so full of life, self-confidence, good humor. “Now, I really should go.”

  “Got a wake to get ready for?”

  She lifted a curious brow.

  “I mean, you know, since you’re always planning for the bad stuff. Heartbreak, loneliness…you probably help plan funerals in your spare time, right?”

  She couldn’t prevent laughter from bursting from her mouth. “Anybody ever tell you you’re an ass?”

  “Anybody ever tell you you’ve got a great ass?”

  She smirked. “More times than I can count.”

  “Sassy wench.”

  “Damn it, Danny, stop making me like you.”

  Shrugging, he replied, “Can’t help it. You just do. The same way I can’t help liking you.”

  “I’m trying not to, believe me.”

  “Yeah, what’s with that?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. “I mean, okay, I can get being self-protective. I know your background left you pretty mistrusting of guys in uniform. But you put up barriers to something as simple as friendship like nobody I’ve ever known.”

  “Friendship? That’s what we’ve been talking about here?”

  “Hell, no,” he said, flashing those dimples. “But it’s a start.”

  A start…definitely the start of something. She suspected that something could be pretty wonderful.

  If only he were that simple blue-collar mechanic she’d thought him to be on the day they’d met. Then she’d jump into this with both feet first, without hesitation.

  It was still tempting to jump, but she was hesitating. How crazy was she to start down the road on a trip she couldn’t finish? She only needed to go back and read her own blog entries during those two long weeks when she hadn’t heard from him to remember how deeply this man affected her. So what kind of crazy woman would set herself up for more of the same?

  “I don’t suppose your tour of duty’s almost up, is it?”

  He met her gaze steadily, the smile fading. Serious, intent, he replied, “No, it’s not, but I might not always be doing what I’m doing now. I can, however, say with near certainty that I don’t see myself becoming a civilian again anytime soon. If you can’t handle that…”

  “I’ve already told you I can’t handle that!”

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  Good point.

  “How about this. Get rid of the can’t. Get rid of the won’t. And for now, let’s leave it at might.”

  Might? A simple word, but it bore such a wealth of possibilities. So many different outcomes, so many variables. It could lead to sadness, disappointment and regret. Or it could lead to incredible happiness.

  And mightn’t she live to regret it if she said no?

  Thinking it over, she finally met his steady stare and replied, “Okay, Danny. I might be able to do that.”

  He smiled, moved closer, lifted a hand to her face. She curled he
r cheek into the warm, rough fingers, melting a little. That kiss before class had filled her mind with all kinds of wicked ideas, and she wanted another one. Now. Right now.

  But there was that unlocked door…

  “Hold that thought,” he told her.

  “What thought?”

  “The thought that you want me to kiss you again.”

  She didn’t deny it, smiling as she watched him jog to the doorway and flick the lock. The chattering from out in the hallways had lowered significantly. Eyeing the clock and seeing it was lunchtime, she figured the students had all headed outside to enjoy the day. The building was rapidly growing as quiet as a tomb.

  He turned back to face her. Their stares met and held for a long moment. Marissa’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest, she wondered if he heard it. Because he had that look in his eye. That sexy, I-want-you look. The one with which she’d become so familiar during the long passionate night they’d shared.

  She licked her lips, remembering. Anticipating.

  As if that tiny movement had broken any last bonds of restraint, Danny strode back toward her, eating up the floor in three long strides. Without saying a word, he stepped right up to her, sweeping his arms around her and capturing her mouth with his own.

  “Mmm,” she groaned, parting her lips, wanting that warm, seeking tongue. Wanting the heat, the connection, the intimacy.

  She lifted her arms around his neck, tugging him even closer, tilting her head to the side and inviting him to do more. So much more. Starting with pleasing her, of course, but ending with filling up the emptiness and driving away the remnants of sadness and regret she’d felt during the two weeks she’d thought she would never see him again.

  His mouth tasted sweet and intoxicating, his breath mingling with hers, sending a rush of warmth down into her lungs every time she inhaled. Their tongues mated and danced, with gentle thrusts and deep tastes, the rhythm of the kiss matching the natural one between their bodies as they began to sway into one another, mimicking the deeper connection yet to come.

  It was crazy. They were in a public building, a place where they both worked. If they were going to do this, last night in her apartment would have been the prime opportunity.

  But she had been stupid last night. Stupid and cowardly.

  Now she was brave and hungry. So hungry she wanted to gobble him up.

  Without saying a word, Marissa began to take tiny steps backward, toward the front corner of the room…out of the line of sight of that window in the door. He followed her lead, not letting their mouths part, the kiss becoming almost more frantic. Desperation and lust were overwhelming them and for the life of her, she simply didn’t care.

  Once her back hit the wall and she could go no farther, she said, “This is madness, you know.”

  “I know.”

  He reached up into her hair and began pulling out the bobby pins holding it up. As the strands fell, he twined them in his fingers. Then those perfect, wonderful hands moved down, caressing her neck, landing on her shoulders.

  Mari arched toward his touch, her breasts aching. Her nipples had hardened into hard little points, overflowing with sensation, and the need to feel his hands on her—his mouth—had her shivering down to her toes. So when he ended the kiss and moved his lips down her throat, tasting his way down to the top hem of her modest blouse, she could only groan her approval.

  “I know other guys might think tight, sexy clothes are hot, but for the rest of my life, I’m gonna get hard when I even think about you in a prim little blouse.”

  She pressed against him, feeling proof that he was already there. So there. Unable to resist, she reached down, cupping that thick ridge of flesh through his pants.

  He grabbed her hand, lifted it over her head and pressed it against the wall with a deep, helpless growl. “Huh-uh.”

  She liked that she drove him so crazy. Liked even more that he was being so sweetly aggressive, holding her in place, pinning her against the wall as if he wouldn’t let her go if somebody held a gun to his head. But not hurting her. She knew he would never do that.

  “Don’t move,” he warned, the throaty need in his voice thrilling her. “Just let me.”

  Let him. He didn’t specify what she was supposed to let him do, but frankly, she didn’t give a damn. Because right now, she was ready to let him do anything he wanted to her.

  She gave her assent with a gentle moan of pleasure as he moved his hands to her blouse and began unbuttoning it. His fingers were shaking, as if he feared he’d go too fast and tear something. Which she honestly wouldn’t mind…except for the fact that they had to get out of this room sooner or later.

  The cool air rushed against each inch of skin as he bared it, and she quivered, wanting him to warm her with his big, strong hands, his amazing mouth.

  He laughed softly, as if hearing her silent plea, but didn’t give her what she wanted. Instead, as he tugged the blouse free of her skirt, he dropped to his knees, kissing her stomach just above her waistband.

  “Danny,” she whispered, twining her fingers in his thick hair.

  “You smell good,” he told her, inhaling deeply. Whether he meant her body lotion or her body, she didn’t know. But she had a feeling…

  He reached around her, squeezing her bottom lightly, then finding the tiny zipper. Tugging it down, he whispered, “Wearing anything underneath today?”

  “See for yourself.”

  The skirt fell. And he saw. “I like,” he growled.

  Something—perhaps a deep, inner instinct that had known this was inevitable—had made her grab her tiniest, sexiest pair of black panties this morning. They didn’t cover much—just a triangle of fabric rested over the thatch of curls covering her sex.

  As the skirt puddled around her feet, Danny slid his big hands down, stroking her hips, encircling her bare thighs. Then, as if unable to resist, he tugged her closer, until his lips scraped the black fabric. She whimpered, feeling his warm breath, remembering the feel of his tongue. Every inch of her that wasn’t already soft and wet got that way pronto and the anticipation of him licking into her softness had her panting, on the verge of begging.

  He didn’t do what she was dying for, though. Didn’t flick that tongue out for a taste. “I want to bury my face here,” he whispered. “I want to drink from you. But that might be kinda hard to hide.”

  Hell. He was right. It wasn’t like he could cover his face and hide the fact that he smelled of earthy, elemental woman.

  “Later,” he promised.

  “Right back at you,” she assured him, knowing she wanted the pleasure of taking him into her mouth again.

  Though a little frustrated at not getting that incredibly wicked, wanton experience right now, she relaxed as he began to kiss his way up her body. Because this was more than okay, too. Her breasts ached for his attention, her nipples so hard and taut they almost hurt as they scraped against the fabric of her bra.

  Thankfully, when he reached her bra, he didn’t hesitate, deftly opening the front fastener with a flick of his fingers. Her breasts spilled free, and he stared for a moment, his eyes gleaming in approval. “Beautiful.”

  “Please,” she whispered, arching toward him, silently telling him what she needed.

  He didn’t torment her this time, as if he needed that connection just as much. He lifted a hand to one breast, plumping, squeezing lightly, tweaking the nipple. Then he caught it in his mouth and drew deep. No warning, no buildup, just quick, hard sucking that sent her out of her ever-loving mind.

  His other hand slipped between her thighs, stroking her damp panties, and the sensations combined to send a fast, hot little orgasm bursting through her.

  She shook, took the goodness and the delight of it, but didn’t let it deter her from what she really wanted.

  Him. Inside her. Now.

  As if he knew it, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a condom. This time, he didn’t push her hands away when she reached for his pants and quick
ly unfastened his belt. But her fingers struggled with the zipper—God, he was so damned big—and he pushed them away and finished the job himself. Shoving the pants and his boxer-briefs down his hips, he yanked the condom on that massive erection and pushed her harder against the wall.

  “Oh, yes, please,” she said, tilting her head back and lifting one leg in welcome. She wrapped it around the back of his thigh, smiling as she felt him tear her panties off and nudge into the wet lips of her sex with the thick tip of his cock. She felt greedy and hungry, wanting it all. She had no trepidation this time, no worries about his size. She was dripping wet and felt totally empty and ready for him.

  “Do it, take me,” she snapped, wanting him to drive her into the wall. Wanting him slamming into her so hard it hurt.

  Danny picked up on her urgency, but, as if worried he might injure her by pressing her harder into the corner, he reached for her bottom and lifted her up off the floor. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his lean hips, sinking onto his shaft with a deep cry of delight.

  He threw his head back, the cords of muscle in his neck flexing against her hands as he groaned with pleasure. Mari squeezed him, deep inside, gaining a shudder that told her he liked it.

  “God, you feel good.”

  “You make me feel good,” she replied.

  She slowly began to pull away from him, liking being joined, but needing that deep plunge, that helpless frenzy.

  He gave her exactly what she needed, holding her bottom tight, drawing out of her, hesitating, then driving home again.

  She buried her face in his shoulder, sure her cries would become too loud. And could only hold on tight as he withdrew and then thrust deep. Again. Again. Until thought was gone. Reality was gone. Time, place, past, future.

  Gone.

  There was just this. Just the heat and the sweat and the intensity and the power.

  Just the good.

  “Oh, yeah,” he groaned, his tone telling her he was close to coming.

  “Do it,” she ordered. “Come on, Danny, take us there.”

  His hands dug almost painfully into her hips, and he pushed her into the corner, hard. She was braced against the wall, able to lean back, bettering the angle. And this time when he plunged, he carved out a place for himself deeper in her body than she had ever realized was even possible.