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

by Murray, Jeanette

  It came back to him then, his pitiful phone call to her hours earlier. He shook his head gently, trying to clear the last of the sleep from his mind. What was his point of calling her again? Come take a nap with him? How childish could he be? What, should he wake her up and offer her a juice box and a snack?

  Madison groaned and snuggled deeper into the covers and his own warmth.

  Okay. So napping wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Except for the fact that he was hard as a rock and she looked like she had another four hours of sleep left in her. Not the best situation ever, but he’d survive.

  Or did he have to? She came over here on her own. Maybe she wouldn’t mind a gentle wake-up call.

  Slowly, he rubbed his hand over her back, smiling when she arched and made what sounded like a purr in the back of her throat. Taking the risk, he smoothed the other hand down her ribs, brushing the sides of her breast, over her hip.

  Instinctively her body moved into his, following his movements, not wanting to lose contact. Yeah. She wouldn’t mind the post-nap activity he planned at all.

  He inched the sweatshirt up her stomach, pausing at the band of a sports bra. Not your easy front-clasp dainty number. But he’d work on it. She shivered as the cool air of the room hit her torso and went to grab for the covers to yank them up. He stayed her hand, rolling and pulling her under him. She smiled, a dreamy tilt of her lips, and he hardened all over again. Damn, she was beautiful. Even with the faint shadows under her eyes, her hair in some messy top knot, her face completely free of makeup. She’d always been perfect to him.

  “Madison,” he whispered.

  She didn’t respond.

  He inched the sweatshirt up and over her head, not an easy feat when working with dead weight. But she didn’t even blink. Just snuggled back into the pillow and looked like she would slip back down into another nice, deep REM cycle.

  “Madison,” he tried again softly.

  This time, he skimmed a hand down her rib cage until he hit the waistband of the sweats she wore. A little wiggling, some more maneuvers, and he slid them down her legs until they disappeared off the end of the bed. Clad in the gray sports bra and simple white cotton panties, completely lax in sleep, she revved his blood more than lace lingerie and a practiced pose ever could have done. That wouldn’t be Madison. She was simple, unaffected. Beautiful.

  And God, he wanted her.

  Kissing his way up her leg, pausing at her knee where he knew she was ticklish, she shifted but didn’t say a word. “Mad. Wake up, honey.”

  Nothing. Guilt started to chew at him. Maybe she needed the sleep more than he realized. Was he being a selfish asshole to wake her up so soon after asking her to drive over on two hours of sleep?

  Maybe. But he was accustomed to being an asshole. Par for the course. And he needed her now like he couldn’t believe.

  “I seriously hope you aren’t stopping there.”

  His head snapped up, eyes finding hers in the harsh noon light. She smiled slightly. “Yes. I’m awake. I have been for a while. You’re like the eighth dwarf, Clumsy. You really think you could have gotten that sweatshirt over my head without some help? Please.”

  He rolled his eyes and gave her a healthy bite on the inner thigh. She squealed and tried to wriggle away, but he pinned her. “Brat. You could have made it easier.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” she teased. Then with a more serious light in her eyes, she reached down to frame his face with her hands. “It was nice, waking up to you.” Something stern entered her gaze. “I wouldn’t have minded waking up with you the other day either. But someone made a quick escape.”

  To distract as much as to please, he hooked a finger under the edge of her panties and stroked her once. “I’m here now. You up for some fun?”

  “Aren’t I always? Fun is my middle name.”

  “I thought your middle name was Ann.” He grinned at her, and she started to open her mouth—likely to give him another sassy answer—but he flicked his fingers up and through her wet heat, and she snapped it shut again.

  “Ah. Maybe fun is your middle name. Madison Fun O’Shay. Has a nice ring to it.” He did it again, finding that one bundle of nerves and massaging it the way he knew she liked. She squirmed under him, unable to stay still, unable to do much of anything but give in to him.

  His favorite.

  “Take them off,” she moaned, one hand coming down to push at the elastic of her underwear. “Off now.”

  “No.” She gave him a mutinous look and tried again to push them down herself, but he caught her wrist with his hand. “My show. I’m running it. Lie back and enjoy it.”

  If looks could shoot, he’d have a chest full of lead.

  She needed to hear it more often. The word no. She was too strong, too used to doing things her way.

  He could handle that. Handle her. And it stung to realize just how badly he wanted to handle her… for as long as he could.

  Which wouldn’t happen. So he had to focus on the moment and enjoy it while he could.

  Using his thumb to keep tight circles going, he slid two fingers into her, curling around to hit the right spot. She hissed and raised her hips, and he knew he’d struck gold.

  “Jer—please, Jeremy,” she panted, moving her hips in the opposite direction of his hand, as if strengthening the connection.

  Because he knew she needed it—and hell, he needed it too—he quickened the pace until she imploded around him, clawing at the sheets, screwing her eyes tight, and parting her lips on a silent cry.

  God, there was nothing sexier than Madison Ann O’Shay in the middle of an orgasm. Nothing. He quickly removed her panties and kissed his way up her stomach, over her ribs until he got to the utilitarian gray sports bra.

  “Sexy,” he murmured, toying with the elastic band that rode just under her breasts.

  “Shut up. I fell asleep naked after work and grabbed the first things to put on before driving here,” she grumbled but smiled. Her eyes were still shut, as if it took too much effort to open them.

  “You sleep naked at home?” He placed a hand over his heart. “Thank God I didn’t know about this before. I would have never slept then.”

  “Be nice, or I won’t show you the rest of my sports bra collection.”

  “I was being serious. I don’t mind a little cuteness now and then. But this is you. And I like you. Pure Madison.” He caught one puckered nipple between his teeth, the cotton providing a small barrier to the sting he knew she’d feel.

  Her hands came to the back of his head, nails scratching his scalp through what little hair he had. God, he wished he had more for her to run her fingers through. She held him to her, then uttered a small, inventive curse when he let go long enough to move to the other breast and repeat the process.

  One hand lifted the elastic over her first breast so he could thumb her nipple, roll it. She arched into him, her hips thrusting up against his thigh, helping herself along. Always impatient, he thought with a smile. But he was growing as impatient as her. Damn, she made him about as edgy as a teenager on his first big score. Where the hell was his control?

  “Off. Off, off, off,” she muttered as she ripped the sports bra over her head and flung it God knows where. He heard a small crash and figured that was either a lamp or a glass. Who cared? He was too mesmerized by the sight of her breasts, finally unbound, completely open to him. The elastic of the bra had left slight red lines on her skin, and he traced them with a finger, then his tongue. Madison shivered and he smiled. So he could do something right after all.

  “Jeremy, I swear if you don’t get your clothes off and get inside me in a minute or less, I’m going to lose my mind.”

  “That would be a serious pity.” Because he was as bad as she was, he took a step off the bed to remove his clothes. Then he realized he was
standing in his socks, not his boots. “Where the hell did my boots go?”

  She grinned. “I took them off. You were passed out facedown on the bed. It looked uncomfortable, so I fixed it.”

  Such a small, insignificant little thing, but it made him warm inside that she cared enough to make the effort when she’d been exhausted herself. “Thanks.” He stripped in record time, reminiscent of the OCS days when he’d had five minutes or less to shower. Effective stripping had been a lifesaver then. Just like now.

  A quick reach into the nightstand produced protection, and he was ready to roll. Literally, figuratively, all of the above.

  He crawled over, something under his skin warming further when she simply relaxed into the mattress and reached her arms up for him in welcome. It was quite a sight, one he would remember as long as he could. Hooking his right elbow under her left knee, he positioned himself and thrust in quickly, leaving them both breathless.

  “Oh my God,” she finally whispered.

  With one leg angled up, the new depth he could reach was perfection. Rolling his hips clockwise, he smiled. “Yeah.”

  Savoring the closeness, the absolute feeling of completeness for another minute, he pulled back and thrust more carefully the second time, then a third. Until he developed a rhythm that built them up without pushing them over the edge.

  Madison’s jaw clenched. “You’re holding back.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t deny it. “Better that way.”

  “For who?”

  “Us.”

  That word, with Madison, was more than he ever hoped to be able to say, even temporarily.

  “Jeremy. Please, touch me.” She pushed at his left shoulder, and he shifted until he could reach between them and find her swollen clit, brushing against it gently.

  But it was enough, and she surged up against him as much as she could with one leg hooked around his arm. She cried out his name—another memory for when it was over—and pulled him along with her into his own climax.

  ***

  Madison drew patterns down his arm, wondering how to keep the moment intimate. How to keep him from pulling away again. “You never got inked.”

  “Hmm? Ink?” He didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe, he was so still. The sound came from the back of his throat. She traced up and over his Adam’s apple with her finger, barely skimming the surface of his skin. He swallowed in response.

  “I think you’re like in the one percent of Marines without a single tattoo.”

  “Ah. Yeah.” He cracked one eye open. “I came close, several times. Usually right after a deployment. Nothing like your boots hitting American soil after facing down war to make you feel invincible and want to record the moment with some permanent reminder.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  He shrugged. “Never found anything I was willing to live with the rest of my life.”

  “Not even the EGA?”

  The Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. Marine Corps insignia. And a tattoo staple among jarheads. Some of the most common ink art, aside from the words “Semper Fi” in the Corps. Day in and out, she saw one form of artistic dedication to the military or another on the men and women she treated at the hospital.

  After a moment of silence, she rolled onto his stomach so they were face to face, then kissed each of his arms. “Well, you look pretty good without all the decoration anyway, so I think you’re okay.”

  “How sweet.” He stroked a hand down her spine, and she melted into him almost automatically. What she wouldn’t give to be able to stay like this forever. Or at least the next day or two straight. Eventually they’d have to leave the cave for sustenance, after all.

  “Madison, you know this thing…” He drifted off.

  She tilted her head up, but all she could see was his chin. “Are you looking for the word ‘affair,’ by any chance?”

  He paused, then nodded. “That works. It’s temporary. You know that, right?”

  So you think. “Hmm,” she said, burrowing closer, breathing in the clean scent of his skin.

  “Because it wouldn’t work out in the end, you know. You want to stay in the Navy, and I’m in the Marines, and that’s just too much right there. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure Tim would skin me alive.”

  She rolled her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows to look down at him. “I’m a grown woman now. My brother doesn’t control who I date.”

  He lifted a brow.

  “Okay, so he’s vocal,” she conceded. “And he thinks he has some sort of say in it. And I appreciate his opinion… most of the time. But when push comes to shove, I’m the one calling the shots in my life. Dating and otherwise. Besides, you’re his best friend. Would he be friends with you if you were a jerk?”

  “I am a jerk,” he said sardonically.

  “No, you act like a jerk… sometimes. There’s a difference. You’re not actually a jerk.”

  “More fool you.”

  She pinched his arm and he yelped. “Stop saying that. Tim wouldn’t care.”

  “So why haven’t you told him you and I hooked up?”

  “I hate that term.”

  “Why haven’t you told him you and I are doing the—”

  She clapped a hand over his mouth to stall any crude remarks he was about to make. It was a point he wanted to prove, she knew. Reducing what they had to the most basic, primitive form. A defense mechanism. But that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it.

  “How do you know I haven’t told him we’ve been having an affair?” She stressed the word affair, voice tightening.

  The corner of his mouth twitched.

  “Okay, so I didn’t. But I could. I would. I will.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No you won’t. Because this is the last night. So it doesn’t matter. If you tell your brother now, he’s going to think I’m using you for an easy lay because this isn’t going anywhere. And then he’d kill me. And you don’t want to be responsible for my death.”

  “Ha. Little does he know, you were the one playing hard to get.” She jabbed him in the ribs and he gave a cough of surprise before rolling her under him, pinning her arms down at her sides. “I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself. He won’t care, Jeremy.”

  “He will,” Jeremy said flatly.

  She sighed and realized she couldn’t predict her brother’s actions. Hell, a year ago she would have laughed if anyone told her he’d elope in Vegas with a woman he’d met an hour earlier… but that’s what he did. She just couldn’t say. “He might. But that’s his problem.”

  “And it’s my teeth he’ll knock out, and your family relationship he’ll screw up. Just let it go, Mad. We’ve had fun. We satisfied the curiosity.”

  “But we—”

  “No.” There was a cold finality to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “Don’t push.”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice. Though her instinct was to plow on, to keep needling, digging, find out what the true root was, she knew the limit. Push harder and he’d break. So for now, she nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. “All right.”

  “This has to be it, you know. We can’t keep sneaking and doing this. It’ll only get harder.”

  “All right,” she agreed easily, though it was a total lie. Any man who called just to have a napping buddy wasn’t about to give in so quickly. He might convince himself he would. But she knew better.

  ***

  Veronica cruised into the apartment, in a great mood thanks to a good shift at work. If she kept this up, she’d be able to pay back the rest of the money she owed Skye and Tim for the car they helped her buy ahead of schedule. It wasn’t much to begin with, and they’d begged her to accept it as a gift. But she couldn’t. Not without feeling guilty. So she took the loan for the car—how else would she
get around?—and was ready to pay it off as soon as possible.

  Just one more step in the direction to total independence.

  “Hey,” Madison called from the built-in desk in the hallway. “How was work?”

  “Good, thank you.” She made a side trip to the kitchen to grab a cup of water. Much as she wanted to take one of Madison’s bottles for convenience sake, Skye had given them the water pitcher with the filter and she would use it.

  As she walked back to the hallway, intent on heading to her room for a quick nap before cracking open her textbooks, Madison waved her over.

  “Come here. Dwayne, you’ve met Veronica, right?”

  Dwayne? She glanced at the screen and saw, yes, Dwayne Robertson smiling at her. Or at least, she assumed he was smiling at her.

  “I sure have, squirt. Hey there, Ronnie.”

  “Veronica,” she corrected automatically, then winced at how uptight she sounded.

  His grin widened. “Sure thing. How’s kicks?”

  “Kicks?” What in the world could that possibly mean?

  “Kicks. Things. What’s going on, in other words.” He looked confused by her uncertainty. “Never heard that expression before?”

  She waved it off, using one of her practiced excuses. “Sorry, I’m a…” What was that phrase Madison used all the time? “A little out of it. Long day at work.”

  He smiled and nodded understandingly. Momentary crisis averted.

  Madison glanced at her cell phone sitting by the keyboard. “I got a text from work asking me to come in an hour early.”

  Veronica glanced down and realized Madison was in her work scrubs. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “No kidding. Murphy’s Law rules around here. But D and I just got started talking, and I know he misses me so super much.”

  “Uh-huh.” Dwayne made a face, and Madison returned the gesture with a big, exaggerated kiss. “Who wouldn’t miss a squirt like you?”

  “Don’t call me that. And I’m going to leave you in Veronica’s capable hands. I have to jet. Sorry, sweetie; we’ll catch up again soon!” Before either of them could protest, Madison blew him a kiss through the screen, grabbed her cell phone and keys off the desk, and ran for the front door, slamming it behind her.