“Yes.”
“I’ll walk you over there. It’s not far from here. And then I’ll get a lift home to my apartment, which is off base. How about I pick you up tomorrow, say, at 1500? That will give us both a chance to sleep in and get over this jet lag. Pack your bag, because you’re moving in with me, babe. We’re going to celebrate Christmas together….”
“This smells so good,” Tara said as she cut into the thick, juicy portion of baked turkey. Dave’s apartment was small but surprisingly warm and comfortable. It was 1600, late afternoon, and he’d dropped by the BOQ to pick her up, then had brought her home. He’d made a complete turkey dinner for them all on his own, which surprised her. Most men didn’t know how to boil water, much less cook.
“Like it?” Dave sat at her elbow at the small rectangular table, which was beautifully set with a white linen tablecloth. A bright red poinsettia graced one corner. The gleaming silverware, white china and goblets of crimson wine added to the festive atmosphere. In the background, Christmas music played, inspiring warm feelings in Dave. Tara was his family now…or at least he hoped so.
“Yes,” Tara murmured. Looking at the fluffy mashed potatoes slathered in thick, dark brown gravy, and the chestnut stuffing, she added, “Did you sleep at all? This feast didn’t just appear out of nowhere.”
He grinned. “I got up early,” he admitted. “Helluva change from eating MREs out in the Afghan desert, isn’t it?”
Chuckling, Tara said, “Sure is. Sand in every bite. We’ve probably eaten enough dirt to last us the rest of our lives.” She drank in how handsome he looked in civilian clothes. The winter storm was still blanketing the Midwest, and Kentucky now looked like a picture postcard. Dave wore a bright red sweater, a college-style white shirt beneath it, the collar starched and pressed. The jeans he wore fit his lower body to perfection, and Tara had to squelch the urge to run her hands across his hips and down his hardened thighs. Dave simply invited a hands-on approach, and she felt another kind of hunger stirring in her.
“I like the look in your eyes,” he confided in a conspiratorial tone. As he passed her the small bowl of cranberries, their fingers touched and he met her shy smile. Dave thought Tara looked incredibly beautiful in her pale pink angora sweater with its cowl neck. The tan slacks she wore flattered her lower body, reminding him of the delicious curves he’d memorized with his hands on those few, precious nights they’d spent together at Khalid’s home.
“I guess I’m hungry in other ways, too,” Tara confided. She felt heat moving up her neck and into her face. Seeing an understanding glint in Dave’s green eyes, she placed the cranberry bowl on the table between them.
“You’re dessert to me, no question.”
“And vice versa.”
“It’s been hell waiting,” Dave said as he sipped the burgundy wine, “but worth it.”
Frowning a little, Tara finished off her meal and put her plate aside. “Dave, you know I have to leave after thirty days. My job is in Washington, D.C.”
Picking up the plates, he stood and took them to the small kitchen, setting them in the sink. “Yeah, I know.”
“Kentucky is a long way from D.C.” Tara got up and followed him into the kitchen as he ran water over the plates and set them in the dishwasher.
“I’m working on that,” he murmured. Turning toward her, he wiped his hands on a nearby towel. “Right now, the most beautiful gift I’ve ever been given is standing in front of me….” And he stepped forward and placed his arms around Tara’s shoulders. Grazing her chin, he raised it and looked down into her worried gaze. “Love always finds a way, babe. Believe in that.”
Closing her eyes, Tara moved against him and slid her arms around his waist, her head pressed against his chest. Just the soothing sound of his heart beneath her ear calmed some of her anxiousness. “I want to, Dave. I really do….”
Kissing her soft, clean hair, he marveled at the glossy reddish strands mixed in with the darker ones. “Listen, if we could save your life after you stepped on that land mine, anything else is a piece of cake, believe me.”
Laughing, Tara raised her head and melted beneath his dancing green gaze. His smile was careless and boyish. “You know what I’d like to do right now?” she said playfully.
“Name it and it’s yours.”
“I want to go outside and make a snowman. I love making them.”
Dave nodded. They needed to work off this meal, anyway. “Let’s go do it….”
As daylight changed to darkness, the snow stopped falling. By the time the snowman, a substantial specimen, was built, Tara saw the moon rising above the naked branches of the trees in front of Dave’s apartment. Her breath a white mist, she laughed as he came over, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and admired their mutual work.
“Great teamwork.” The snowman had a green beret on its head, a red scarf around its neck and twigs for arms. Tara had found just the right size stones from around the edge of the building to make its eyes, nose and mouth. “A Spec For snowman,” he exclaimed.
Laughing, Tara said, “He looks ready to enlist, Captain.”
Pulling her against him, Dave murmured, “The last two hours flew by. Look at that moon. She’s beautiful.” And he pointed upward into the dark sky. The moon was past its first quarter, shining like a silvery lantern and casting shadows around the yard where they stood.
“Every full moon was dangerous for us over in Afghanistan,” Tara whispered. Absorbing Dave’s nearness, the feel of his arm across her shoulders, she saw him lose his smile and nod. The bright light of the moon made them targets when they roved around at night looking for the Taliban. The dark of the moon was always their friend, she had discovered.
“I know… Hey, let’s go in. I want to love you, Tara….”
Closing her eyes, she smiled softly and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Yes….”
In the bedroom Tara found a queen-size bed with a downy quilt of white across it. Her heart raced with anticipation as she stood near it, with Dave next to her, his hands on her hips as he looked down into her uplifted face. His fingers moved to the hem of her sweater and she felt him begin to slide it upward. The moonlight shafted through the gossamer lavender curtain panels, casting beams across the oak floor where they stood.
The fine prickle of the sweater grazing her flesh as he lifted it over her head made her shiver. Beneath it, Tara wore a pale pink silk camisole and no bra. As she watched Dave place the sweater over a straight-backed chair nearby, she smiled at him.
“My turn…” She stepped boldly up to him and eased his red sweater off.
“I like this,” he murmured wickedly, and allowed her to open his shirt, one button at a time. When he saw her fingers tremble slightly, he leaned down and gently teethed her earlobe. For a moment, she didn’t move. Smiling, he knew he’d found a delicious spot that gave her pleasure. With his mouth against her temple, nuzzling soft, silken strands of her hair, he breathed in her fragrance as a woman.
“Keep going….” he rasped near her ear.
Laughing softly, Tara said, “You’re making this tough, Dave!” And he was. His mouth trailed a series of soft, provocative kisses across her brow, and then he teethed her earlobe once more. The prickles came again, wild and electric. Finally, she divested him of the shirt. It fell in a heap at their feet.
Placing her hands on his hard, flat stomach, she felt the warmth of him and the strength of him. Sliding her palms upward, she ran her fingers through the short, dark hair across his massive chest, making him groan. Tara closed her eyes and felt her knees weakening as his large, square hands grazed her breasts beneath the camisole.
“Just getting to touch you,” Dave breathed, as he worked on the closure on her slacks, “is grace to me. You know how you go through life trying to do right by others? You get burned so many times and you wonder if it’s all worth it.” He opened his eyes and drew back to drown in Tara’s vivid blue gaze as the slacks fell with a whisper around her ankles a
nd feet. Helping her step free of them, he felt her hands settle on the waistband of his jeans.
“Grace,” Tara said. “I like being seen as grace in your life.”
“I never thought I had any,” Dave murmured, easing out of the jeans and pushing them aside. Gripping her hand, he led her to the bed. “Until now. Until you came into my life, babe.” Lying down, he brought Tara alongside him. Her legs were long and strong. Moving his palm from her hip down one firm, smooth thigh, he added in a deep, husky tone, “You’re my gift, you know that? I knew it from the first moment I saw you, but I fought it.” Shaking his head, he began to ease away the camisole from Tara’s body. “Stupid me.” He grinned crookedly as he rolled over to look at her breasts for the first time.
Tara couldn’t speak as his roughened hand slid reverently around the curve of her breasts. Instantly, her nipples hardened and she moaned, pressing herself against him. Before her mind turned completely to mush, she pushed the boxer shorts he wore down his hips. Dave helped by removing them and casting them aside. All that was left were her silken panties, which he turned his attention to next.
Wild tingles moved provocatively over her skin when he slid his index finger beneath the band. As he flattened his hand against her belly and eased the panties down her legs, Tara felt a hunger she’d never experienced before. She looked up and saw him smiling down at her, like a man who was proud of the woman he loved. The moment he settled his hand on her rib cage and caressed the curve of her breast again, she sighed.
“You saved my life….” she whispered tremulously, arching against him, wanting more. “I could see how much you loved me then, Dave. I saw it in your eyes. I heard it in your voice….”
Leaning down, he kissed her lips, which parted beneath the onslaught. The tension of her body against his, the warmth, the insistent movement of her hips, made him groan once more. Tearing his mouth from hers, he rasped, “I love you with my whole heart and soul, Tara. I always will….”
Moving her hand across his hip, she explored the lower part of his body, committing it to memory as he kissed her more and more deeply. Their breathing was rapid; their hearts raced erratically. Lost in pleasures, Tara allowed the need she’d felt for Dave all these months to rise within her. Boldly, she curved her slender leg around his thicker, stronger one and pulled him on top of her.
As their hungry mouths broke apart, she smiled up at him. His eyes were narrowed and feral looking, those of a hunter who had his prey in sight. They were focused on her, and she felt her heart explode with primal love for him. “Love me, Dave. Love me with everything you have because that’s what I’m about to do with you….” And she slid her hands up to his head and drew his mouth down to hers.
Arching her hips demandingly against his, Tara felt his length and hardness press against her. The sensation was dizzying, dazzling. Closing her eyes, meeting his strong mouth with her own, she felt him slide his hand beneath her hips and raise her slightly, just enough to allow him entrance. The moment was exquisite, their journey a heartbeat away. Breath suspended, Tara opened her eyes and looked into his.
“Yes….” she whispered. “Yes…now…” Her lips parted and she threw her head back as she felt him slide powerfully into her liquid, heated depths. The joy of their meeting was like a sudden thunderstorm, washing the world with wild, vivid color, motion, feeling and sounds. The movement, the rhythm established between them was like a potent ocean tide coming into shore, pounding, pulverizing. Tara tasted the sweat of Dave’s temple as he leaned down, his head next to hers, his powerful body covering hers with each pumping movement. Reaching upward, she slid her fingers across his bunched, damp shoulders, found his mouth and thrust her tongue deeply into it.
In that moment, he tensed and so did she. The wild, throbbing heat that exploded deep within her body moved outward like an expanding rainbow arcing across the sky. She tore her mouth from his and her cry of joy punctuated his low snarl of pleasure. He gripped the sides of her head and held her captive to prolong their mutual passion. As Tara spiraled downward, feeling the delicious weakness that followed her climax, she fell into his strong, awaiting arms. They collapsed together, perspiration running in rivulets where their bodies met and molded, their breathing chaotic and swift. Closing her eyes, Tara turned her head, her lips near his ear.
“I love you, Dave Johnson. I love you with every fiber of my being. Never forget it…never…”
“Merry Christmas,” Dave told her as he handed her a small, red foil wrapped gift tied with a silver ribbon. They were sharing hot chocolate and Danish pastries the next morning near the open fire-place. The white sheepskin rug on the hearth was from New Zealand, and Tara looked pretty as a picture sitting on it, clothed in a fleecy, pale lavender robe that outlined her strong, feminine form.
Looking up, she took the gift. “I never expected anything, Dave….”
He sat down next to her and picked up his mug of hot chocolate. “I know you didn’t. Go ahead. Even though it’s only Christmas Eve, you can open it.” He grinned at her over the rim.
Laughing, Tara set her own cup on the wooden floor next to the rug. They’d slept after their lovemaking, and then, shortly before dawn, he’d loved her again. The experience was so beautiful it had made Tara cry. There was an incredibly tender side to Dave, and he’d given her that gift as dawn broke on the horizon. Body still glowing from his touch, she crossed her legs beneath the robe.
“When did you have time to get me a gift?” she wondered as she quickly tore off the wrapping.
“Oh, well…you’ll see,” he told her enigmatically. Tara’s hair was soft and mussed, her lips well kissed and her cheeks pink. It was her eyes, that soft, doelike gaze when she looked at him, that made Dave feel like Hercules and not just an ordinary man. She made him happy. Fulfilled.
Opening it, Tara gasped. “Oh! This is lapis lazuli, isn’t it?” She held up a gold necklace that had an oval pendant of the blue gemstone dangling from it.
“Sure is,” he answered. “Made by the old jeweler in Tarin Kowt. You remember him? An old man in his seventies? Habib Osmani?”
Gazing down at the beautiful, feminine piece of jewelry, Tara whispered, “Oh, yes, I do remember him. He was such a dear old man. I always thought of him as the village grandfather. Everyone loved him. He was so kind to others, and generous….”
“I asked him to make you this,” Dave told her in a conspiratorial tone, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Do you like it, babe? It’s supposed to match the color of your eyes….”
Moved beyond words, Tara smiled up at him. “Oh, yes, Dave, I love this! I like the fact that he made it. It’s as if he’ll always be a part of us….”
“I was worried…”
“I love it…like I love you, darling….” She held it up to him. “Put it on me?”
Getting up, Dave moved around to her back and fastened the necklace around her throat. The deep blue stone settled between her breasts, over her large, giving heart. “There.”
Touching the stone with her fingertips, Tara turned and moved into his awaiting arms. The fire popped and crackled pleasantly in the background. The sun was peeking out, the sky a pale blue outside the frost-covered windows. Nestling her head against his warm chest where his robe had opened, she closed her eyes. “I love you so much, Dave….”
“I know,” he whispered. Easing his one arm from around her, he dug into the pocket of his terry-cloth robe. “I have one more gift for you, babe. Here it is….”
Opening her eyes, Tara laughed briefly. “What is this?” He handed her a neatly folded sheaf of papers that had been stapled together.
“Something I hope you like as much as I do….” And he kept her cradled in his arms as she opened them.
“Oh! Oh, Dave!” Tara gasped, sitting up abruptly and turning around. She looked at the papers again to make sure she hadn’t misread them, and then up at him as he grinned wickedly at her.
“I—is this for real?” she asked, holding the
sheaf up to him.
“Official orders, babe. Sure, they’re real.”
Blinking, her heart pounding, Tara reread them again. “It says I’m to report here, to Fort Campbell, Kentucky, on January 22 to put a language lab together to teach Special Forces A teams how to speak Pashto.”
“That’s right. And it’s a two-year assignment.” He reached out and touched her bright red cheek. “That means, among other things, you’ll be here with me. We’ll have time together, Tara…if it’s what you want?”
Blinking back tears, she sniffed and read the orders yet again. Her mind spun. How had Dave managed to pull this off? Wiping her tears away with trembling fingers, she whispered, “Oh, yes, that’s what I want, Dave. To be here with you. To make a go of what we discovered in Afghanistan….”
“Good,” he murmured, pulling her back into his arms and cradling her head against his shoulder. “This gives ‘comrade-in-arms’ a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” And he smiled down at her.
“Yes, and how appropriate, darling….” She waved the papers helplessly. “But how? How did you do this? I know you had a hand in this, Dave.”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, kissing her temple, her cheek and then moving his lips tenderly across hers. He tasted the salt of her tears—tears of joy. Lifting his mouth away, their noses nearly touching, he said, “I called Morgan Trayhern before we left Afghanistan, from Kandahar. I told him I loved you, and asked if it was possible for him to move heaven and hell to get you out of the Pentagon and to my part of the country.” He grinned as he watched her luminous blue eyes widen like those of a child. “He said he’d get it done, that love between a man and a woman was of national importance.”
“Whose idea was it for me to set up a language lab here?”
“Mine,” he admitted, proud of the idea.
“Between you two men, I didn’t have a chance.”
“Did you want one?”
Chuckling, Tara shook her head and placed the orders aside. Moving her hand up the nubby material of his robe, she drowned in the joy she saw burning in his forest-green eyes.
Comrades In Arms (In Love and War Anthology) Page 6