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Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.)

Page 15

by Murray, Jeanette


  Madison sniffed delicately. “Did you go to that place on Seventh? You smell like nacho cheese.”

  “Yeah.”

  Pulling teeth with this one. Well, she was no dentist, but she’d give it a go. “Did you go with friends?”

  “Quite the opposite. My father. The most stubborn person I know.” He eyed her suspiciously. “You two have quite a lot in common, ironically. Madison, what are you doing here?”

  She stood then, watched as his eyes took her in full length now. She was glad she’d come dressed for battle. Not quite the battle he might expect. But a fight all the same. She’d slipped into her tightest jeans, tossed on a men’s white undershirt tank top that she knew showed the outline of her bra, and tied up the end in a knot in the back so that a sliver of her midriff showed.

  Battle. Hell. It was an all-out war. And Jeremy was a worthy opponent. But he was about to surrender, if it was the last thing either of them did.

  Now or never.

  ***

  He was going to die. Plain and simple. Today was the day Jeremy Phillips died.

  First, the dinner with his father. Not even his two beers could eliminate the off-center feeling the constant haranguing from his father about his military career—or lack thereof—gave him. And of course, the constant reminder that dating a woman in the military would just never work out.

  Naturally. Because doing anything to keep his old man proud for more than a week at a time was clearly beyond him. The ability to stop caring if his father was proud was also, apparently, beyond him. Catch-22.

  And now, in the sanctuary of his own apartment, where he could pound away at his keyboard if he wanted to for hours of stress relief, or watch a game in his underwear, or just pass out in bed because it’d already been a pisser of a day… stood the ultimate temptation. Madison O’Shay, sexy as sin in some see-through tank top and jeans that he was pretty sure would require industrial-strength scissors to get off, staring at him like she wasn’t sure which body part to start nibbling on first.

  And not a single one of his defenses leapt to the forefront to save him. No, not one. It was as if the entire day had been carefully constructed to beat him down so hard that the moment he truly needed the ability to resist, he was broken.

  “Jeremy?” Her voice was soft, uncertain. “Are you feeling okay?”

  He rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb, bore in just a little too hard, hoping the pain would snap him out of imagining what that tank would look like tossed over his chair. “No. Not really. It’s been a hell of a day, Mad. Could we do this another time?”

  She smiled, and he just realized he’d all but suggested they have sex some other day. He scowled. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I think you don’t know what you mean.” She took another step forward. “Are you drunk?”

  “No,” he said, completely honest. He never would have ridden his bike drunk or even remotely buzzed. He was just suffering from an acute case of Life Sucks.

  Her smile widened. “Good. Then you have no excuse for this later.”

  He set the bottle of water down on his desk, making sure the cap was tightly screwed on, and stood up. “Excuse for wh—”

  But he couldn’t finish. Who could, when his arms were full of warm, soft woman and his mouth was being expertly manipulated by lips intent on seduction?

  Not many men. Definitely not him. That’s for damn sure.

  Automatically his hands went around to bring her closer, pull her against him. Let her feel the ridge beneath his jeans and show her exactly what she’d walked herself into.

  If he’d hoped for a maidenly gasp of horror and a quick exit, he’d have been sorely disappointed. Feeling his own arousal only seemed to spur Madison on. As if she needed any sort of encouragement. Whatever she was doing was just damn fine with him.

  No. No, wait. Not fine. Damnit, no. He pulled back, but she managed to step with him. “Madison. No.”

  “I hate that word,” she murmured, pressing her lips to the pulse hammering below his jaw. God, he was going to pass out at this rate. “I think you hate it too. Let’s not use it tonight.”

  He was on the brink of agreeing. Of telling her sure, what the hell. But he knew better. This wasn’t a what-the-hell. It was his best friend’s sister. A woman he could never be involved with and get out unscathed. A disaster in the making.

  “God, you think loudly.” She pulled her head back just enough to look at him and raise a brow. “Jeremy. We’re adults. And I’m here because I want you. You clearly want me back. And I think it hurts you to say no. Can we stop making this more complicated than a couple of hot hours between the sheets?”

  He stepped back once more but stumbled and sat down hard at his desk chair. Madison, who never let go of her hold of him, fell with him, straddling his lap.

  She laughed, the sound filling his sterile apartment, filling his mind, filling in holes that had nothing to do with physical hunger and everything to do with his soul. “That was actually convenient, though I don’t think it was your main purpose.”

  Yeah. Feeling her core press against his erection was exactly the purpose. Pure torture—what red-blooded male didn’t want some of that? “Madison.”

  She bit on his earlobe, then licked the stinging spot with the top of her tongue. Then she whispered, “Your day sucked, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he breathed. “It really did.”

  “I want you so bad I can barely breathe. You want me. And you need to put the day behind you. Decompress. Let’s decompress together.”

  And he lost it. Every reason, every good thought, every piece of common sense he’d ever had about the two of them fled his brain. God, he needed her. Needed the feeling she brought to him. The fire through his blood he hadn’t felt in so long. The sense of living for something other than the daily grind and someone else’s dream.

  He needed Madison. Even if just for the night. Even if there was a shelf life of twelve hours in the relief, on the pleasure. He’d take it, and God help him tomorrow.

  He gripped her thighs from behind and stood. Instinctively her legs wrapped around his torso and she laughed with glee.

  “Nice choice, Marine.”

  It might be. Or it could be the worst decision of his life. He’d find out tomorrow. Tonight he just needed her.

  Chapter 12

  Something changed. And not just his concession to give them a chance in the bedroom. Madison felt his entire body posture, the stiffness in his muscles, even the way he breathed change the moment he gave himself permission to let go and have a little fun with her. As if some massive weight, or some important burden was lifted from him, even temporarily.

  It was a huge deal, she knew. And she wouldn’t let him down. He might be thinking this was only for the night. Might not be able to see past that for his own sanity. But she’d show him the truth of the matter later. No worries.

  One night wouldn’t be enough for him. And it damn sure wouldn’t be enough for her.

  As he walked her backward toward the bed area, she unwrapped her arms from his neck, leaned back just a little, reached down, and pulled the tank up and over her head. The material slid from her lax fingers as Jeremy’s eyes immediately drifted down to where her bra covered her breasts. Barely. It was the prettiest underwear she owned. The only pretty underwear, really. And thank God she’d had the foresight to put it on before she came over. Somehow she didn’t think plain cotton Hanes panties and a ragged sports bra screamed do me, hot stuff.

  “Mad.” He set her down on her feet next to the unmade bed, eyes still at her chest. With what she could only describe as reverence, he traced his thumbs over the scalloped edge of the cups, where her breasts filled the material and threatened to spill over just a little. So maybe she needed a better fit. Pretty bras weren’t her thing… she’d gu
essed on the size. Like hell was she going to let some stranger cop a feel with a measuring tape to get a better idea on her size.

  Jeremy didn’t seem to mind.

  Just the pass of his thumbs over her skin made her shiver. But when he reached around to undo the clasp, she stopped him. “Not yet. Let’s work on you a little first.”

  Maybe it was a cop-out. But the momentous occasion was starting to weigh on her, and she wanted it to last. Any shield to protect her she’d keep up as long as physically possible. Not that the lace was doing a great job of protection, given her pebbled nipples were clearly outlined through the thin material.

  But Jeremy didn’t argue. Instead he just reached behind him, grabbed a hunk of shirt between his shoulder blades, and pulled the polo up and over his head in one swoop. His olive undershirt clung for a moment, drifting up before falling back to cover his torso. Damn. Unable to stop herself, she pushed it back up and over his head as best she could. He bent down obligingly to give her a hand as she struggled to pop the neckline over his head. His dog tags made cheerful clinking sounds as they fell back against his chest. She’d caught a glimpse; no way was she letting him cover back up.

  She breathed a little sigh of… what? Relief? No, more a sigh of contentment as his upper body was bared to her completely. She’d seen him without a shirt on before, working out or at the beach when the whole gang had gone. But here, in his apartment, just the two of them, the soft glow of the overhead lights and their hard breathing the only things surrounding them, the whole thing was more decadent. Delicious. And she had the opportunity to touch rather than just look. Skimming her hands up from his abs, she covered the lean muscle there, the cut ridges and planes of his chest up to his sculpted shoulders. Bulky, he was not. But built, oh yes. Enough to have everything feminine in her silently giggling with anticipation.

  “That’s better.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “If that’s all you wanted, then…” He reached for his shirts on the floor.

  She laughed and grabbed his wrist. “No way, bucko.”

  He raised a brow. “Your turn.” And before she could stop him again, he reached around her and flicked open the clasp of her bra. The material gave immediately and she wanted to cover herself out of instinct. But she wasn’t exactly a virgin, and this wasn’t her first trip down peek-a-boo lane. So why the modesty?

  The enormity. As the lace fell away, she knew they were hitting the point of no return. And it was scary. But when the look in his eyes turned from interested to downright predatory, she knew there was nothing to worry about.

  “God, Madison.” He reached out and cupped one in each hand, testing the weight, lightly rubbing his thumbs over her tight peaks. “You’ve always had these, right?”

  She swatted his arm, biting back another laugh. “They’re under lock and key in my scrubs or uniform.”

  “Thank God,” he muttered, then before she could say a word he nudged her down on her back across his bed. Habit had her smoothing the sheets out as she slid down. She had no time to guess his next move as he unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them and her panties off in one fell swoop.

  Well. The matching panties were a bit of a bust. Glad she hadn’t expected a huge reveal there.

  Her flip-flops fell to the floor along with the denim and lace, and she was completely naked. But this time, the frank lust on Jeremy’s face had her squirming with excitement rather than embarrassment. He looked his fill, not moving over her quickly to continue. But savoring the moment, as if he was taking mental pictures so he could think back on the moment repeatedly.

  Talk about an ego booster.

  She stretched just a little to the side, knowing it’d push out her booty and breasts in a more flattering way. She wasn’t as long and lean as Skye, but she kept her body in shape and hoped that would be good enough.

  His eyes flashed, and she was grateful he hadn’t suddenly expected her to morph into a five-foot-ten Amazon sex goddess.

  “Are you waiting for something?”

  “My heart to start back up,” he answered honestly, then unbuttoned his own pants before shucking them, his boxers, and boots all as fast as he could. When he almost plunged to the floor nose-first with one boot caught in the hem of his jeans, she laughed. When was the last time she’d laughed, honestly enjoyed herself so much during sex?

  He shot her a look that promised revenge, so she smothered the sound in a pillow.

  “Just for that,” he crawled over the side of her, skimming a hand up from thigh to breast, “I’ll have to punish you.”

  He tweaked one nipple a little harder than she expected, and she gasped, arching into the touch. “Sounds serious.”

  “Very. I would’ve loved nothing more than crawling over you and getting deep inside. God, I would have wanted nothing more. But I think that might be too easy.”

  “Easy my ass,” she mumbled, thinking of how long it’d taken her to get them to this point. But she bit her lip when he pulled at her other nipple in silent command.

  And the laughter suddenly evaporated. The atmosphere shifted, morphed, grew into something completely different. Not playful any longer, but almost desperate with need. Not just wanted it. But needed. To be in control. To lead in bed, have the ability to make the choices.

  She wasn’t about to say no. Not when his hands were doing fantastic things to her skin as they brushed up and down her body, barely missing all the good parts. She struggled a little when his fingers skimmed over her thigh, hoping to bump him to where she wanted.

  “Uh-huh.” As if to emphasize his control, Jeremy took his hand away completely. So not what she wanted. Her entire body stilled, barely breathing, and he resumed his torturous exploration.

  “That’s right, Mad. Let’s just take this nice and slow.”

  She looked up at him, not at all shocked to see the depths in his eyes. He’d always been quiet, his conscious a little deeper than most men she’d known. But now, it was like he was on some other plane even she couldn’t reach. But it was what he needed, apparently. And she wasn’t going to deny him.

  His lips feathered out over her brow, down her cheek, by her ear. He whispered things she couldn’t understand, wasn’t even sure if they were words. But they sounded beautiful anyway. Finally, as his hand crept around her thigh and between them, dipping in to skim over her center, she breathed with combined relief and anxiety.

  “Jeremy. Please kiss me.”

  He sat back and stared at her. Too far? Had she pushed too far? Maybe she’d snapped him out of whatever place his mind had retreated to.

  But he smiled, a sort of smile she’d imagine a pirate giving just before he conquered an opposing ship. He bent over, his dog tags landing against her sternum, the metal warmed from his skin. And he gave her what she wanted. A kiss, yes. But also reassurance that it wasn’t just her body he was making love to.

  Whether he realized it or not, his lips told the story as they carefully, gently brushed over hers. His heart was engaged too.

  ***

  Goddammit. How was he supposed to ignore her breathless request for a kiss?

  He wasn’t, that’s how. There was no way he could feel how wet she was for him, hear her little pants of breath, and then know she wanted to be kissed and deny it. Even if it was going to make turning away from this night that much harder.

  So, because he was a masochist, he kissed her. Or maybe just because it felt right.

  But he knew, even as her thighs tightened around his wrist, her breasts pushing into his chest with every breath, her tongue flicking out to meet his… No. One night wasn’t going to be enough.

  She opened for him more, giving him the chance to slip in one testing finger, then two. Stretching her, testing her, driving her closer to the brink. She had to be close to gone before he got inside her, or he’d embarrass him
self and come before she even got out of the starting gate.

  He wanted her too damn much. Not just any woman. Madison. God, it was Madison beneath him.

  She gasped as his fingers curved around and found a particularly interesting spot. Nails bit into his arms and her head tilted back. The pulse in her neck beat double-time. And he gave in to the temptation to slide down and give some attention to her nipples.

  Sweet little marbles, just begging for some tender loving care. He had it in spades, and he was willing to share. Taking one into his mouth, he sucked deep, smiling against her skin when her breath hitched in her chest. Fingers drifted up from his arms into his hair that he kept just this side of regulation length. And she scratched lightly.

  Aw, hell. Almost forgetting for a moment about her pleasure, he nuzzled into her hands, wanting more of the scalp-tingling delight. Then she vised around his fingers once more. Dammit, asshole, concentrate. You’re not number one here, she is.

  He pumped his fingers in, letting his thumb graze her clit only intermittently, though she wanted it more. He grinned at the tightening of her muscles, reading all too well she was getting frustrated, annoyed, and if he kept it up… pissed. Too bad. I know what you need.

  I know what we need.

  The thought hit him like an arrow. And immediately, regret followed that this would never last.

  But for now, he had her.

  He used one forearm to shift her body over until she was completely on the bed, then reached with his other for a condom in his drawer. Damn almost-full box. He’d seen scary little action since Madison PCSed to his base. But that was his fault.

  And he was damn well about to end the dry spell.

  He finished covering himself in the fastest job he’d done since he learned how to use a rubber and used one knee to spread her legs wider. “Madison.”

  “Hmm.” She smiled almost blissfully as she lifted her hips up to meet him. But he wasn’t ready. Not quite yet. Although it killed him to hold off, it was important.

  “Open up.”

 

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