“My medical board met today.” He avoided meeting her gaze, staring instead at an arrangement of china plates on the opposite wall above an ornate cabinet. “It ruled that I would be medically retired no later than a month from now.”
“That means you have to get out, right? Oh, Conn, I’m sorry.” Her hand was back, and it was obvious she did it without thought, seeking only to comfort. “Sam told me how much being a Marine meant to you.”
He flexed his jaw, attempting to get his expression under control.
He turned to her and tried for a smile, but knew he failed miserably. “I’ll still be a Marine. Haven’t you heard? Once a Marine, always a Marine.”
Her eyes searched his, and he suspected she saw too much, saw what he couldn’t even put into words. “Yes, but this is not the way you wanted it.”
Her words were not a question, but he answered anyway. “No.”
He grasped her hand and enclosed it with his own before propping his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. She laced her fingers through his and squeezed.
“I’ve always hated the expression ‘Is there anything I can do?’” she said. “Is there anything more useless? And yet, I find myself fighting the urge to say just that. I want to do something for you, and yet there’s nothing I can do.”
He turned his head and met her eyes, wondering at the urge that had had him going to her when he walked out of his board hearing. He could have contacted any one of several buddies who would have known what the hearing meant, how he felt. And yet the one person he had wanted—needed—to see was Harmony.
“You’re here.” He looked up, glanced around her living room, not really seeing the assortment of antique furniture as much as registering the fact that it was foreign territory. He was mystified by his own presence there, but couldn’t deny there was solace to be had. Harmony made no everything-will-be-okay noises, but let him feel his pain, her hand clasping his anchoring him.
He was embarrassed at being there. He couldn’t just sit there taking up space. For all her understanding, Harmony no doubt had something she needed to be doing more than this. Her glasses implied she’d been hard at work. He figuratively shook himself. He needed to get it together.
“Sorry. Had a little pity party going on there. I’m okay. I’ll let you get on with whatever you were doing.”
“But you just got here.” Harmony’s gaze shifted to the window and the darkening sky. “It’s pretty much quitting time. Stay for a drink, at least. Please.”
Since he didn’t want to leave anyway, there wasn’t a whole lot of decision involved. “Sure. You have a beer?”
“Coming right up.” She disengaged her hand and rose, heading for the kitchen he could see across a counter that divided it from the living and dining area. “I’m not much of a beer drinker, but I keep it on hand for Arnie.”
“Arnie?”
“The guy I was counting on to go with me to the reunion. He’s not all that dependable, but he’s still a friend.” Conn was unreasonably glad to hear the absent Arnie was just a friend. At least, he hoped that was the case.
Harmony opened the refrigerator and pulled out a long-neck and a bottle of white wine. “Would you like a glass?”
“No. The bottle is fine.”
She poured a glass of wine for herself and brought both drinks back to the living room. She handed him his beer and sat back down beside him.
He lifted his beer and clinked it against the glass she held. “To new beginnings.”
She studied him and refrained from lifting her glass. “Are you being sarcastic?”
He tipped his mouth up in a joyless smile. “I’m trying not to be. Honestly. I’ll have the cushion of my retired pay, so I’m trying to view this as an opportunity to try something different.” He gave up the effort to smile. “But it’s so damn hard.”
“Then why don’t you stop trying. You’re in pain. Slapping a happy face over it won’t make it hurt less. Wouldn’t it be easier to just go with it? Feel what you feel. You don’t have to pretend for my benefit.”
This is why he had come here instead of calling one of his buddies to commiserate with him. Manly men didn’t acknowledge pain, much less indulge it. Harmony offered sympathy and space to do both.
His gaze roamed over her face, pausing at the eyes that met his with warmth before dropping to her mouth. Her lips parted on a breath, and he thought about the kiss they’d shared. He’d been wanting more ever since.
Her tongue tip slipped out and moistened her bottom lip, and all he could think about suddenly was tasting her.
He set his beer down on the coffee table, removed Harmony’s wine glass from her hand and set it beside his beer. Moving slowly, he drew off her glasses and laid them down on the table with the drinks. At no point did she question his actions, merely watched and waited, as though she shared his intentions.
He slid his hands into her hair and held her head as he lowered his mouth to hers. At the touch of their lips, Harmony sighed and leaned back. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along her lips until she parted them wider, then slipped it inside. Her mouth was hot and sweet, and she met his tongue with her own.
A purr sounded in her throat as she reached to draw him closer. He gathered her against him, losing himself in the taste and sound and feel of her. Any other time he would have been slower, would have taken his time bringing her along, but her own desire pushed him. Her arms tightened around his neck, and she arched up, pressing herself against him.
This was what he needed on so many levels—losing himself and his misery in her warmth and sweetness. He realized this was what he had come for, what he had wanted from the first moment he met her.
He slid his hand down and cupped it around the soft curve of her breast. His action brought a murmur of approval from Harmony and a tightening of her hold. His thumb brushed across her nipple and her murmur became a moan. He dragged his rational mind back from the brink while he could still think, and created space between them. “If this is not what you want, Harmony, tell me now.”
She looked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and her mouth moist, her lips slightly parted. He held himself back from kissing them again with difficulty.
“If this was not what I wanted,” she whispered, “we wouldn’t be sitting here.”
“Good answer.” He lowered his head to resume kissing a mouth designed for sin. She made kitten noises and started to lie down, pulling him with her.
“No. I haven’t had sex on a couch since I was a teenager. Not interested in a trip down memory lane. Let’s take this to the bedroom.” He levered himself off the couch and tugged her up beside him.
She nodded toward the hallway that led off the living room. He pressed another kiss on her mouth and then pulled her in the direction she indicated.
“Don’t you need the cane?”
He shook his head. “I’m okay for short distances.” He pinned her with a heated gaze. “I don’t plan on being on my feet that long.”
Her eyes returned the heat as she led him into the bedroom.
The bed that took center stage was a real attention-getter. Curly cast iron swirls and loops formed its head and footboard, and the four posts rose and met overhead in a kind of canopy. Conn didn’t care that it looked more like the world’s largest birdcage than a bed, as long as he could get Harmony into it in the next thirty seconds.
He jerked his shirt free of his pants and began unbuttoning it, all the while watching her. She turned on the bedside lamp, then leaned to turn down the bed and fuss with the pillows as though they had to be arranged just so. By the time she was finished, he had his shoes and socks off and his pants and shirt tossed over the one chair. He kept his boxers on for the moment.
“Um,” she said, tweaking the corner of a pillow, her face turned away from his gaze, “we might have a problem. I don’t have any condoms. I’m sorry. I should have said something earlier.”
It became obvious to him she was avoiding meeting his eye
s. “No worries. Got it handled. But before this goes any further, maybe I better ask if you’re having second thoughts. If this is really what you want.”
She straightened from the bed and finally turned to face him. Her focus traveled across his chest and down his torso until it reached the evidence of his desire. Her eyes widened briefly and flashed back up to his.
He quirked a brow, and she flushed and dropped her gaze again. “No,” she said softly.
He stilled. “All right then,” he said and turned back to the chair to grab his shirt.
She grasped his arm. “No, I mean I’m not having second thoughts. I want to do this.”
He searched her gaze, but saw only sincerity. “Whew, you had me worried there for a second.”
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.” She gave him a shy smile before dropping her lashes and scanning his body. He saw her pause at his leg, taking in the scars that crisscrossed his thigh. He searched her expression for disgust, but saw only sympathy.
“That looks painful.”
“It looks worse than it feels.” He didn’t want to talk about his leg. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her again. She immediately softened against him and slid her hand off his arm to wrap both of her own around his waist. The feel of her hands stroking up his bare back was an exquisite kind of tease.
He pulled away and looked her over. “You’ve got too many clothes on, babe.” He reached for the hem of her tee shirt and pulled it off over her head. Her bra surprised him. He had expected plain and no-nonsense, but what she wore was pure Victoria’s Secret. Her nipples were just visible through the sheer pink lace.
“You are gorgeous,” he whispered reverently as he cupped her breasts.
She grasped him at either side of his waist and dropped her head back, inviting more. He swept his thumbs beneath the lace and teased the nipples into hard pebbles. She whimpered and dug her nails into his skin.
He reached behind her to unfasten the bra and pulled it away. She released him long enough to allow it to slide off her arms before laying her hands on his chest. She obviously wanted him to continue, and he was happy to accommodate her.
He leaned down and took one of her nipples in his mouth, tonguing it gently against his teeth. Her hands slid to his shoulders and her nails dug in again as she moaned. After a few seconds he moved to the second breast. When he suckled harder, she gasped and her knees almost buckled. It was time to move this to the bed.
He opened the snap of her jeans, then crouched, careful to keep his weight on his good leg, and tugged them down. Harmony braced her hands on his shoulders and stepped out of them, leaving her in panties that were little more than a scrap of pink lace.
Before he straightened, he slid his hands around the back of her thighs, holding her in place, and pressed his mouth against her lace-covered mound. She gave a surprised gasp and clutched at his shoulders. God, he loved the sounds she made.
He urged her to lie down and turned to pick up his pants, pulling his wallet from the back pocket and extracting the condom packet there. He laid it on the nightstand and followed Harmony to the mattress.
“Now, where were we? Oh, yeah.” He leaned over her, taking her mouth again and covering a breast with his palm, marveling at the perfect fit. She arched to meet him and moaned with satisfying enthusiasm. When he moved to take a nipple in his mouth, she pressed a hand to the back of his head, holding him there.
He smoothed a hand down her stomach, noting the softness of her skin and the taut muscle beneath it. She stretched and arched as he stroked her, pleasure obvious. His hand reached the elastic of her panties and he slipped his fingertips beneath it.
She plunged her tongue into his mouth and tipped her hips, all but begging him to go further. He reached the soft curls and threaded his fingers through to her wet heat.
She gave a choked sob and practically lifted off the bed. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he slid a finger into her. He could not remember being with a woman as responsive as Harmony. Focusing on pleasing her let him escape all other thoughts for the moment, and he sought to extend the experience as long as possible.
He slid his finger out, trailing it over the sensitive nub and replaced it with two. She arched and whimpered, and he could feel how close she was to coming. Seeing her response, hearing her sounds had aroused him to the point he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last once he took her. Better to push her over the edge first.
He sat up and peeled her panties off, her hips rising to help him. He tossed them toward the chair, then shucked his boxers as well. Looking at her sprawled on the bed, hair spread in a halo around her face, eyes alight with desire and her mouth swollen from his kisses almost had him losing it right there.
He lay back down beside her and she reached for him. He stroked down her body now with no obstacles, loving the feel of her warm skin and the sounds she made. He palmed her pubic bone and she arched in supplication, her wants clear.
He slipped his fingers down and into her, stroking slowly. She rocked with it, urging him to go faster. In seconds she came apart with a sob. He continued to caress her through her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure.
Her hitched breathing finally began to slow, and she blinked her eyes open. “Now you,” she whispered.
“I’m with you.” He reached for the packet, tore it open with his teeth, and quickly rolled the condom on. He rose above her, pushed her thighs wide with his knees and thrust into her.
Two things registered at once—how tight she was and her sharp cry. Her muscles, seconds before slack with satisfaction, went stiff, and her heels braced on the bed as she tried to keep him from going deeper.
He froze and swore, but he was already too far to reverse course. His own drive toward orgasm had him wanting to thrust hard, but he reined himself in and tried to hold still, shuddering through his release. Afterward, he lay panting over her, temper heating his blood in place of desire.
When he had recovered, he withdrew carefully and shifted off her. “What the hell was that?” he demanded. “You were a virgin, weren’t you? Were being the operative word. Don’t you think you should have told me?”
Chapter Eight
She blinked up at him, seeming surprised by the anger in his voice. “Why?”
“Why? Because don’t you think I had a right to know?”
She blinked again, clearly confused. “Not particularly. Don’t you have an expression in the military—need to know? Well, you didn’t. Need to know that is.”
“It might have gone easier for you if I had.”
Harmony sat up and grabbed a pillow, shoved it behind her, and leaned back, drawing the sheet up under her arms. She shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Outrage and amusement fought for dominance. “Not that bad. I’m overcome at your effusive praise.”
“What? You want another medal? You’ve already got a chest full. Quit worrying about it. I just meant it wasn’t that big a deal.”
“And the accolades just keep coming. Look, deflowering virgins is not in my position description. I feel like I just violated a nun.”
Harmony rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Get over yourself. I knew what to expect. I’ve done a lot of reading on it.”
Now it was Conn’s turn to roll his eyes. Was there anything this woman hadn’t studied? “Of course you have. But as you just found out, sometimes experience trumps research.”
“All right, I’ll give you that one, but really, this is none of your concern.”
“I need to get rid of this condom. We aren’t done discussing this.” He rolled out of bed and stalked to the bathroom across the hall. When he was finished, he returned to the bedroom where Harmony still sat propped up against the headboard.
Her expression was wary, as though unsure what to expect. He wasn’t sure what to expect either. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been hard done by, but acknowledged he was being unreasonable.
He dropped back onto the bed. “How
old are you? Wait, ten-year reunion, so that makes you what—about twenty-eight?”
“Yes.”
“Why the hell were you still a virgin?”
She looked surprised. “Hello. Ugly duckling here.”
He took in her eyes, her kissable mouth with the tiny mole highlighting the sensuality of it, the trim body with slim curves in just the right places. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”
“You still don’t get it, do you? I was—and still am—pretty much a plain-Jane wallflower. I didn’t even have a clue what to do with my hair until your sister showed me. My step-mother convinced me there was nothing to be done. Should I have listened to her? Probably not, but that was irrelevant.”
She pushed herself higher against the headboard. “And having a high IQ has nothing to do with social acumen. In fact, I have a theory that IQ is inversely proportional to social savvy. Trust me, I’m an expert.”
“But still—”
“Could I have gotten laid? Of course. But I was not going to be anyone’s charity case.”
He stilled. Is that what she thought this was? “Harmony, first, you are not a plain-Jane wallflower. The reason we’re here is because I’ve wanted to get you into bed from the first evening we met.”
Her expression reflected suspicion. “Why?”
He shook his head in frustration. “There you go, fishing for complements again. For starters, you have the most kissable mouth I’ve ever seen. Your mouth makes me think of very naughty things.”
The corners of that mouth turned up very slightly so he kept going.
“Those huge innocent eyes and that mouth that promises anything but are a killer combination. One that’s a potent turn-on. So stop talking yourself down. It’s getting monotonous.”
“Well, excu-use me.”
Conn glanced at his watch and came to his feet, glad to have an excuse to leave. He was still pissed Harmony hadn’t told him about her status and felt like she had used him. The irony did not escape him. That was supposed to be the woman’s line, but this whole relationship was unique in his experience.
Cinderella and the Major Page 5