And he owed it to his father. Right? The man could have dumped him on his grandparents permanently when his mother died. At times, Jeremy felt like that’s what he wanted to do. That he would have, if Jeremy hadn’t slipped so easily into his life. Claimed to want to be just like his father. Joined the Junior Marines, then Junior ROTC as soon as he could. Get an ROTC scholarship for college. Commission right after graduation. Just like his old man.
If that pride hadn’t been there, would his father have kept him around? Maybe. More often than not, though, Jeremy had his doubts.
His phone rang and he knocked it off the desk in his haste to grab it. Breathing hard from relief, he answered.
“I’m sorry, must have the wrong number. I called Jeremy Phillips. This sounds more like the Creepy Stalker Hotline.”
He calmed his breathing and tried again. “What’s up, Mad?”
She paused. “I was just curious if you were busy.”
The folder seemed to shift on his desk, though he knew that was stupid and impossible. It caught his eye, nonetheless. He shoved it back, under the keyboard. “Nope. Nothing going on.”
“Right.”
An awkward silence.
“Madison? Did you want something?”
She sighed. “Yeah. Are you going to let me have it?”
You can have anything you want. The answer almost flew out of his mouth. “Depends.”
“I know we said to cool it and all. But I’m… ”
What? Lonely? Missing him? Wanting more?
“Horny,” she finished, a definite hint of humor in there.
“Uh-huh. Are you sure you didn’t mean to dial one of those 1-900 numbers instead of the Creepy Stalker Hotline? Sounds more your thing.”
She laughed, and his body tightened in response. He liked how she laughed, engaging her whole body. When she lay next to him, sweaty from another round of mind-blowing sex, she would laugh, and he could feel her whole body contracting with the force of it.
“No. I called the right number. I hope.”
Those two words hung in the air like a promise. Or maybe like a curse.
Say nothing. Hang up. Don’t keep doing this to yourself. To her. Don’t.
“Wanna come over?”
“Yeah.”
Idiot. He was a total idiot.
But at least this idiot was going to enjoy his night.
***
Madison curled up beside Jeremy, warm and content and completely ready to snooze. But she somehow knew that they needed to have The Talk soon. That their affair couldn’t go on much longer without having a conversation about where things were honestly headed. A serious one. One that would lay down the gauntlet.
And if he didn’t pick it up, then that would be the end of it. The final straw. No more hope for them. No more turning back, pretending it didn’t happen. She wouldn’t have the dreams of What Could Be with him any longer. Just the depressing memories of What Might Have Been.
“Jeremy.”
He didn’t make a sound.
She rubbed one foot up and down his calf. “Jeremy.”
Nothing.
She rolled over, sure he hadn’t actually fallen asleep so fast. Two minutes ago, he’d been inside her, hard as a rock and still sweating from their intense round of lovemaking.
But when she peeked, his eyes were closed, lashes set so gently against his cheeks, breathing deep and even.
Okay. Maybe he could have fallen asleep.
So they’d have The Talk tomorrow. She snuggled back down beside him, head pillowed on his chest, one leg draped over his. His body heat seeping into her, keeping her warm despite the coolness of the night air around them.
They’d talk tomorrow. And if nothing else, she’d have one more night of uninterrupted sleep to remember.
***
Dwayne tossed his cover on the bed and sat down next to it, too tired to even contemplate bothering with his boots quite yet. Or maybe not bothering at all. Twenty-fucking-four hours without shut-eye made Dwayne a cranky boy. He could sleep for a week, if he only had the chance. And with the pain meds the doc gave him, he probably would. Those things were intended to knock a rhino back on its ass.
A faint buzzing sound penetrated his brain fog, but he shook it away. He was too tired for anything, even imagined distractions. He scrubbed one hand over his face.
The buzzing kept going, despite his willing it away. Not imagined then. He used his good arm to push off the bed and walk toward his computer, seeing an incoming call on Skype from Madison.
He almost turned the speakers off and ignored the call. Madison wouldn’t care; he’d just explain it to her later. She knew the deal. Sleep came before all else, especially when healing.
But then he wondered…
No. She wouldn’t. Nice dream, big guy, but there’s no way.
But if it was…
Almost on autopilot, his hand shifted to the mouse and he clicked Answer.
Like his dream, Miss Veronica appeared on the screen. Holy hell, had he conjured her there?
“Hi,” she said shyly, a questioning tilt to the end of the word.
He thumped down in his computer chair, the rusted metal shrieking in protest. “Hi.”
She fiddled with the ends of her hair, the same long braid he’d always seen her with. The tail draped over her shoulder and onto the desk in front of her. “I thought you might still be in your room before work. I didn’t know what time you…” She trailed off, squinted at the screen. “Is that a sling?”
He shrugged his good shoulder. “Yeah. Had myself a little misunderstanding.”
“With what, a brick wall?”
She was getting feistier. He liked that. “Not quite.” More like an IED and his MRAP. The one fucking time his boots moved outside the wire and he gets hit with an explosive. Luck was not always on his side.
But she didn’t need to know that bit. “It’s just dislocated.” Probably. “I don’t even need the sling. But doc wants it stabilized.”
“Oh, you poor thing. Should I let you go?”
“No. No, don’t do that.” Her soft, soothing voice was like a balm to his tired, frazzled nerves. He’d been awake all night, in and out of the infirmary, checking up on his Marines. Being checked on himself. The word exhaustion didn’t begin to cover it. But the adrenaline in his system wouldn’t let him contemplate hitting his rack. Not yet. The drugs would push him under, but the fog they created, the alternate version of true sleep, fucked with his brain.
“Well, can I…” She grew quiet, closed her eyes, and smiled. “Sorry, I was about to ask if I could help. But that’s silly, isn’t it? You’re thousands of miles away. Not as if I could run over with a bowl of soup.”
“This helps. Having something else to concentrate on.” Which reminded him… “What brings you to call?” So far each conversation they’d had resulted from an accident or being in the right place at the right time. This was the first time she’d truly reached out and made contact on purpose. Which felt damn good.
She started playing with the ends of her braid again, fingers nervously plucking, pushing, and pulling at the strands. “I’m not sure. I sat down to do a little research on a paper and send an email. And then after that, I couldn’t sleep.” She paused. “It’s late here, you know.”
He smiled. “Yeah. I know.”
“And then I saw the Skype button and I just—” She put her hair down and looked straight at him. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
He crossed his heart with his good arm. “Promise.”
Her nose scrunched up, as if still deciding whether to say it. But then she shook her head and said, “I just felt like maybe you might need to talk.”
She had no clue how true that statement was. “I never mind a fr
iendly face. Yours happens to be prettier than most.”
She flushed, not just a faint blush of color across her cheeks, but a total flush that crept up her neck and straight past her cheeks into her hairline. “You say outrageous things on purpose, don’t you?”
He’d called her pretty. On a scale of one to outrageous, that ranked pretty damn low, in his estimation. But she was clearly shy. “Just speaking the truth.” He felt his eyes droop but fought to keep them open. “I might not be much of a conversation partner today, just so you know.”
“You really should be sleeping, shouldn’t you?” Concern and worry laced her voice. “I’ll hang up now. You go on to bed.”
“Can’t sleep. Not quite yet. And I don’t wanna take the meds they gave me. Knock me on my a—butt. Don’t like ’em.”
“Oh.”
He gave her a lazy grin. “You could talk to me, though. I like the sound of your voice.”
“You do?”
“Hmm. Yup. Tell me something.”
“What do you want to know?”
For whatever reason, his video chats with Miss Veronica were becoming the highlight of his deployment. For damn sure, they were more entertaining than the last few first dates he’d been on. He wanted to know her inside and out. What made her tick, kept her motor running.
What revved her engine.
He shifted a little in his seat, fighting off an ill-timed—and surprising—erection.
“You look uncomfortable. Should you still be sitting up?”
“I’m good.” That was the problem with nothing but your hand for company. Not nearly satisfying enough, and even the hint of something sexy had you harder than Kevlar. “Tell me something nobody else knows.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced around her as if making sure nobody would overhear. Then she smiled a little, but this one seemed a little sad. “I didn’t have many friends before I moved here.”
That took him by surprise. “I find that hard to believe. Sweet thing like you, I’d think you were swimming in the deep end of the friend pool.”
“Let’s just say, I’m still learning how to doggy paddle.” She grinned. “But Madison is the best. And Tim and Skye. Even Jeremy.”
Jeremy. Something completely unwelcome and totally unexpected reared its ugly head deep in his gut. Something akin to jealousy. “Hanging out with Jeremy a lot, huh?”
She made a face and shook her head. “Mostly only with the group total. I think he didn’t really want to accept me here at first. But he’s getting friendlier.”
Sounded like Jeremy. Slow to trust, cynical always. He relaxed a bit. “What do you girls do when you hang out?”
She lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, well, we go shopping. I never really realized how fun shopping was. And movies. I didn’t know how much I was missing out on with movies. Madison is a total movie buff.”
“Yeah. We usually watch all the new releases together when I’m there.” He settled back farther in his chair. “Who were you emailing?”
“My aunt and uncle. Skye’s parents.” She grinned again. “I lived with them for a while before moving here.”
Dwayne let her hop from one topic to the next, never slowing down. It was the most he’d ever heard her speak before, and he had a feeling she wasn’t a real chatterbox on her own. So that she felt comfortable enough to keep talking with him was a little ego boost.
Slowly, his eyes started to close. He could still listen to her with shut eyes. His ears worked fine. And she didn’t seem to mind. Miss Veronica kept on going like nothing was different.
And with her sweet voice in his mind, he slipped under and into the dreamless darkness that called to him.
***
Veronica watched as Dwayne slumped forward, settled, then started breathing more deeply. She watched his chest rise and fall in steady rhythm. She debated making a sound to wake him so she could encourage him to head to bed. But then the thought that she could startle him and have him fall off his chair made her rethink that plan. Though the angle didn’t look entirely comfortable, she assumed if he started to get sore, he would wake up and shift over to his bed.
Maybe she should be insulted that her voice had put him to sleep. But she knew it wasn’t boredom that slid him under, but a final sense of calmness. Of being able to relax enough for his brain to step back and give his body the chance to rest. Poor guy. Even while he joked and tried to look calm and in control, the signs of pain and discomfort had been written all over his face.
He was deep asleep, that much she knew. The deep rumbling snores couldn’t be missed. But for some reason her finger hovered over the end call button rather than clicking it. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. And really, it was a safe, harmless way to investigate the male half of the species. Especially this one.
He was tall, that was easy to see, even from the computer screen. And his voice was something straight out of a movie, with his deep Southern drawl. She wondered where he’d grown up. What his life had been like before the Marines. What made him join the military in the first place. What he’d kiss like.
What he’d kiss like? She barely caught the laugh that rose up her throat by slapping a hand over her mouth. Watching his chest rise and fall for another few moments, she finally made herself end the call and close down the Skype program.
But while he intrigued her to no end, she knew he wasn’t the one for her. Dating wasn’t even a viable option right now. And when it was, it would be with a man who didn’t intimidate her so much with his… well, his attractiveness, for starters. One who wouldn’t completely blindside her with his charm, disarm her with his smile. One who wasn’t completely out of her league in almost every respect.
She had to be reasonable, after all.
She shut the computer down, padded to her own room, and climbed in her own bed under the sheets she’d picked out herself. And after a quick round of prayers, she turned off the light and snuggled down, hugging a pillow to her chest.
But until the time came for her to be reasonable, Dwayne Robertson would make a lovely dream.
***
Madison rolled over and smacked her nose into a hard wall of warm muscle. She cracked one eye and found Jeremy looking right at her, looming over her, propped up on one elbow. The sheet covered his hips, barely. But the not-so-small bump under the fabric told her he was wide awake, in every way possible.
“Morning,” she said.
He didn’t answer.
She tried again. “Sleep well?”
He shook his head. “You hog the covers, you know.”
“You hog the bed, so we’re even.” She was prepared to roll back the other way and grab another hour of sleep when he hooked one arm beneath her and tugged her to the center of the bed.
“I beg your pardon!” She slapped at him playfully when he pulled her shirt up and over her head. “This is not the wake-up call I ordered.”
“You get what you get, and you’ll like it.” With zero finesse, he latched his mouth onto her breast and pulled deeply.
She moaned, arching into him. Gone was the playful, silly, laughing lovemaking from nights past. Something seemed to be driving him that wasn’t humor-based. That wasn’t built on fun, motivated on a good time. It was almost…
Desperate. That was the only word her mind could form when he came up for air shortly, moving to her other breast, his hand closing over the first, pulling and toying with her nipple.
“Jeremy. Slow down.”
“Can’t.” He surged up, capturing her protesting mouth with his, sliding his tongue in, silencing all possible complaints or questions. Her hands automatically went to his hair, tunneling through for a good grip. His chest hair abraded her now-sensitive nipples, and she couldn’t decide whether to rub against him or pull back from the sensation.
One knee nudged her thighs apart, settled there, pressing against her center. With every slight movement, he brushed against her and she felt a familiar twinge low in her belly. She pulled back from his mouth long enough to ask, “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”
“Is that what’s happening?” he answered her question with one of his own. Damn, she hated when he did that. But his mouth was too busy to give a different answer, moving down her throat, down her sternum, over her ribs, down to the edge of the waistband of her shorts, tugging down harshly as he went.
Before she could even kick off the shorts from her left leg, he was back up, fitting himself to her and thrusting up. His face was a mask of someone she’d never met before. Impassive almost, if she didn’t know better. Like her body could have belonged to anyone and it wouldn’t have mattered. She cried out, not in pain but in a mixture of fullness and confusion. Where was Jeremy? Her Jeremy?
He slowed at her sound, then stopped. Breathing hard, completely still but for the in-and-out motion of his chest, she watched as some of the coolness left his eyes. His forehead came down to hers, sweaty and warm. And he pushed in again, slower this time, more controlled. More aware of her body, her reactions, her needs.
One hand reached between them, found her clit, and applied pressure and motion until she couldn’t stop her own reaction. She moved with him, following his pattern until the point of no return came and went.
“Jeremy. Jer—I’m going to…”
She tightened around him, and when he leaned over and whispered, “Come,” in her ear, she had no choice but to follow his command, muffling the worst of her scream into his shoulder as she felt his own release take him over.
***
He was a shit. A total piece of shit.
No, worse. What was worse than shit?
Jeremy Phillips. That’s what.
He disengaged all limbs from Madison and pulled out, regretting the instant loss of warmth as he flopped onto his back.
“Mad, I’m sorry. I forgot…” He couldn’t believe it. Never, not once in his adult life, had he ever forgotten protection. And with the one woman he wanted to protect the most, he fucked up.
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 22