by Bianca D’Arc
“Sweetheart, you could keep me up all night, and I would never complain.”
He hadn’t really meant to say anything quite that provocative, but the slight flush on her cheeks made him glad of the fatigue that caused him to speak without thinking through all his words. He let the statement lie there between them, waiting to see which way she would go. He liked that she could keep him guessing. So few women could, in his experience.
“Is it really true?” she asked softly, surprising him further. “That you listen to my recordings every night?”
Solemnly, he nodded. “Every night I can manage. If I’m on station, in my own cot, I put in my earjacks and let you sing me to sleep.” His voice dropped low.
“Get in bed.”
Her softly spoken words shocked him awake. What, exactly, was she suggesting? He wouldn’t take anything for granted where this surprising woman was concerned. Slowly, he got to his feet and walked over to the huge bed that awaited him. It looked so inviting. It was, by far, the nicest accommodation he’d had since entering the service at the tender age of eighteen. He sank tiredly to sit on the side of the bed, watching her.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Just lie down and close your eyes, John. I’m going to sit here and play a few songs I’ve been working on. I was doing the same in my cabin before the comp pinged me, so I might as well do it here as there. I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”
John’s heart clenched. This was just about the sweetest thing anyone had ever wanted to do for him. But he couldn’t let her stay. It wouldn’t be right to take advantage of her generosity this way.
“I can’t—”
“You can, and you will. I’m in charge of this tub while you’re sleeping, Captain, and I decide where and when I’ll play my songs.”
Maggie walked right up to him and pushed against his massive shoulder, but he didn’t budge an inch. The man was solid muscle, after all.
“Come on, John. I’ve kept you up too long as it is. Please try to sleep, okay? I won’t rest easy until I know you’re asleep.” And she wouldn’t. She wasn’t just saying it to be nice. Somewhere, somehow, she’d come to care about this soldier, even on such short acquaintance. There was something about John that she recognized and understood on a basic level.
She nudged his shoulder again, and John sighed. He untied the belt on his robe and shrugged out of it, nearly stopping her breath. The man was a living, breathing Michelangelo sculpture. Only better. He was so huge, she felt dwarfed by his size, but never intimidated. No, this was a man who understood how threatening he could seem and tempered his brute strength with snapping intelligence and compassion.
John tossed his robe to the end of the bed and lay down under the turned back covers. He reached for the edge of the blanket at the same moment she did, their hands meeting with a little zap of electricity while his gaze shot to hers. Long minutes later, John moved his hand back, content, it seemed, to let her tuck him in.
Maggie did so with a small pang for what could have been in her heart. This was a man she could easily love, but love was not something she could allow to interfere with her mission in life. She would show him the care he deserved while he was in her realm of influence, but when it came time to part, she would let him go with no promises, no regrets. At least, that was the plan.
Maggie tucked him in, resisting the urge to smooth back his golden hair as she brought the covers up over his arms. Some other woman would kiss him asleep. Perhaps some other woman already did!
“John, you’re not married or engaged or anything, are you? I mean,” she stammered a bit, embarrassed, “there’s no woman out there who’d think my tucking you in would be wildly inappropriate, is there?”
John chuckled, grasping one of her hands in his. “No. I’m a soldier, and you were right—I’m Spec Ops. My life doesn’t have room in it for a special woman, though I’ve never regretted that more than since meeting you.”
She read the message in his eyes that she felt in her heart. He knew as well as she did there was no possibility for them. They could be friends, but that was about it. They both had responsibilities, and they were too dissimilar to allow for anything but a brief interlude between them. This trip out to the rim was all the time they’d ever have.
John brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm sweetly, a shiver running through her with the chaste salute. His expression spoke of regret as he let her hand go and she moved back from the bed on shaky legs. She reclaimed her seat on the couch and held the guitar in front of her like a shield. She faced him and could feel him watching her as she found a comfortable position on the couch.
“Just pretend I’m the voice in the earjacks.” She smiled once at him before pulling a small datapad out of her pocket and placing it on the low table in front of her. She set to work on a few new songs, stopping occasionally to make notes. She was aware of John watching her at first, but the music was consuming, as usual. Before she realized it, several hours had passed, and she was stiff from sitting in one position for far too long.
That sometimes happened to her when she was concentrating on getting a song right. She looked over at the huge man sleeping now peacefully on the large bed. He looked so much the warrior, it stole her breath. The blanket lay bunched at his waist, his muscular chest taunting her, tempting her. He was so beautiful, both inside and out.
But it was not meant to be.
With a slight sigh, Maggie got to her feet and stretched. It was time for her to seek her own bed. She’d done as she’d promised. She’d sung John to sleep. Poor man, she’d probably bored him to tears with her multiple repetitions as she tried to get certain passages to flow more smoothly. She lay the guitar aside and tiptoed toward the bed.
He looked so angelic, with his golden hair and finely honed body. His face was not classically handsome, but rather chiseled with character. He was a man’s man, and any woman would drool over him—if only for those muscles alone. But he had a sensitive side, as well, and could be relied on in a crisis. That much she knew.
Giving in to temptation, she leaned down and kissed his cheek, stroking his hair back the way she’d longed to do earlier, while he was awake.
“Goodnight, John,” she whispered low, then turned to leave.
She paused at the door, guitar in hand, when she heard a rustle of motion from the bed. Looking over her shoulder, she saw his eyes slit open, just enough so that she could see he was semi-awake.
“G’night, Maggie.”
Her heart stuttered at his sleep-roughened voice. It was the first time he’d called her by name—by her real name—and it touched someplace deep inside.
*
John stood either backstage or in the crowd for each of the shows they did on that run, and each night, Maggie would meet him in his cabin with her guitar. She sang him to sleep while she worked on new tunes, and neither commented on the soft kiss she placed on his cheek before she left.
Over the few weeks of the trip, they grew close, though neither spoke of their feelings. Both knew it would be over when they reached the last stop on the run. From there, John and his contingent of men would head off for the farther sectors, and Maggie would get a new group of escorts. They were mostly men heading back to Earth for R&R and other assorted reasons.
To John, Maggie’s performances were magical, but no less so than the private sessions she played for him each night in his cabin. Nothing untoward ever occurred between them, but John came to cherish those moments when Diva turned back into Maggie and the real woman came out to play.
John went off shift with a heavy heart, knowing this would be his last night aboard with Maggie. But his men needed him. Just today, he’d received a com from Sector HQ. His Executive Officer, or XO as he was called, Jase had put through the com personally. Boy, it had been good to see Jase’s face. They were closer than brothers, and John had regretted the debriefing and ceremony that had taken him away from his unit for so long. They were the only real family he’d ev
er known, and it felt good to be going home.
At the same time, he would miss Maggie terribly. She’d opened up a place in his heart and filled it with her soft manner and jewel-like tones. It was more than just the music now. No, now, he knew a bit of the woman behind the music, and he was thoroughly enchanted.
John knew he would cherish these precious days with Maggie for the rest of his life. He’d miss her singing him to sleep, softly working and reworking tunes and lyrics until she thought he slept, when the truth was, he lay awake listening to every note that came from her lovely lips. He didn’t want to miss a moment of her serenade, or the single soft kiss she would place on his cheek.
He’d been getting by on combat naps during the day and a few hours of solid sleep after she left him. It was enough. Enhanced, John didn’t really need as much sleep as a normal human, though few besides his unit knew for certain that he was Enhanced. Maggie sure as hell didn’t know. Or at least, he hoped she didn’t know. John would die to see revulsion in her eyes when she found out he was something less than fully human. Better to keep his secrets well hidden, as they should be.
Humanity needed Enhancement to compete with some of the more cunning alien races that sought to constantly test their strength on the rim, but they didn’t like it. No, the purists would have done away with all Enhancement if they hadn’t been promised Enhanced individuals would never be able to breed. The fertility suppressors they put in all active duty soldiers’ rations weren’t necessary for the Enhanced guys, but they got them anyway. Probably so nobody would realize they were already shooting blanks, as it were. Volunteering for Enhancement was a one-way ticket to never having children, and for himself, John didn’t really mind.
Or, at least, he hadn’t minded, until he met Maggie. Somehow, she made him long for things he’d never wanted before.
Entering his cabin, John found Maggie already there. That was new.
Every night since the first, Maggie would knock softly on his hatch about a half hour after his shift ended, then stay for a few hours, playing her tunes. They talked a bit, getting to know each other better and better. John liked everything he learned about her and even found himself opening up more than he’d ever done, talking about the men of his unit, his family, his past, as he never had before.
“I’m sorry, John. I couldn’t wait.”
She seemed somehow fragile, her voice quavering in a way that echoed the pain in his own heart at the thought of parting from her in the morning. John dropped his datapad on the desk and moved toward the couch.
Maggie stood and fairly threw herself into his open arms. She felt so good there. So right. But he knew it was not meant to be.
Chapter Three
Maggie fought against the tears that threatened. They’d known each other for weeks now, but aside from the daring, yet chaste, kisses she bestowed on him after he’d fallen asleep each night, this was the closest she’d physically come to him. He was so big and so strong, yet so gentle with her. John melted her heart with every quiet word, lazy smile, and meaningful look from his beautiful blue eyes.
“This is our last night together, sweetheart.”
Maggie sniffed, fighting against the tears. “I’m going to miss you so much, John.”
“And I you, Maggie. But you’ll still sing me to sleep each and every night. You’ll always be with me in my heart, no matter where I am. Or where you are.”
“I wish things could be different.”
His arms tightened around her, though he was still as gentle as could be.
“In a different world, I’d make you my own, Maggie. I’d want you with me always, to be my wife, to be my partner, my mate.”
“In a different world—” She couldn’t finish the thought as a sob broke through. John’s strong arms held her while she shook, lifting her like she was a doll as he walked to the couch. He sat, folding her into his embrace. John’s big hands patted her back and stroked her hair, soothing and comforting.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Things are as they have to be.”
Maggie understood the truth of his words, but it still hurt to hear. She allowed herself a few more moments in his arms, giving herself permission to stroke the muscular arms she’d enjoyed watching, the broad shoulders that seemed able to support the world.
“I’m sorry for falling apart like this. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, honey. Don’t feel bad for letting me know that I’m not alone in my feelings. You have no idea how much it means to me. I’ll carry the thought of you in my heart for the rest of my life.”
She pulled back to look up into his eyes. “I could easily fall in love with you, John Starbridge.”
John lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her in answer. He didn’t have to speak the words. She knew from the desperate longing in his kiss that he felt all the same things.
But it could never be.
Bittersweet. That was his kiss, his arms around her, his deep groan of pleasure as she molded herself to his muscular form. Maggie had never been kissed with such passion, or such regret.
Tears gathered behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. There was nothing but this moment, this man. She tried to live in the present, enjoying John Starbridge’s one-of-a-kind kiss, for they had no tomorrow.
John lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. Maggie gasped as he started walking toward the large bed in one corner of the room. Her eyes widened, and her heart beat faster. Did he plan to—?
“Ssh, sweetheart. Just trust me. I can’t take this much further for reasons of my own, but I want to know what it’s like to hold you in my arms. In my bed. I want that memory.”
His sad blue eyes melted her heart.
“John,” she gasped as he placed her gently on the bed, stilling her words with his lips as he kissed her long and deep.
His enormous body settled over hers, though he kept the majority of his weight off her. She felt sheltered and cocooned in his warmth, his strength. It was a heady feeling and one she’d never known before with any man. Only John. Forever John.
He kissed her and slid his hands over her body, enticing, but never pushing too far. It was as if he had strict boundaries beyond which he would not go. But, oh, how she wished he would!
Maggie let her hands roam over his hard muscled chest, the washboard plane of his abdomen, and lower, but he caught her hands and brought them back to his chest. His eyes chastised her, but warmly.
“Don’t push me, sweetheart. I want this to be for you. My gift to you. The only thing I can give you.”
“But I want you, John, like I’ve never wanted any man ever before.”
John sighed and settled himself at her side, though he continued to lean over her. “I want you too. Desperately. But knowing we can never really be together would only make it worse. I want to give you this—just this—before I have to go, and hope you’ll remember me with a smile.”
“I want to be with you, for however long we have.”
He kissed her temple then, tenderly. “I love that you feel that way, but I can’t. Having you once, or just for one night, would never be enough. Better that I don’t know fully what it’s like. Better that I have the dream of you to keep me going.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t, sweetheart.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry for that. But it has to be this way. There are things about me you don’t know. Things I can’t tell you. You have to just trust me.”
“I do trust you, John.” Her heart was in her eyes, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. This noble man was so damned special.
He growled and flipped her under him, settling himself between her legs. The soft material of her robe and dress parted and lifted for him, making way. John’s huge hands swept downward, hiking her dress up even farther. She was bare beneath.
John’s kiss became hungrier as he undressed her, slowly and with rising passion. Before long, he had her completely b
are beneath him, his uniform slightly scratchy against her skin. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his pants. John pulled back and removed it. Maggie’s hands immediately sought the hard planes of his chest. She loved the feel of him under her fingers and the way his muscles bunched and corded as she touched him.
“You feel so good.”
John chuckled as he stroked her body. “Back at’cha, sweetheart. You have the voice of an angel and a body made for sin.”
Maggie had never heard it put quite that way before, though certainly some of her press clippings mentioned that she looked good in the tight costumes she sometimes wore. John’s appreciative words heated her blood as his hands roamed over every sensitive inch of her skin.
He dipped his head to kiss her neck, biting softly on the corded muscles as she strained to get closer to him. His hands simultaneously found her breasts, his rough fingers padding gently over the hard tips of her nipples. He played her body like an instrument, and in this concert, he was the ultimate master.
“John!” She cried out as his mouth covered her nipple, the fingers of one hand playing with the other hard peak. His touch was magic. His lips divine.
He sucked her, pulling back until her nipple popped from his mouth with a wet sound. John’s smile was one hundred percent pure rascal.
“You taste like warm honey,” he said softly, firing her senses with his throaty growl. “I could lick you all over.”
She didn’t think she could survive if he followed through on those words, but oh, how she wanted to try. Maggie ran her fingers through his short hair, urging his head up to her questing lips. This man set her on fire!
John allowed himself to be tugged up, his mouth meeting hers hungrily while one of his legs pinned hers, spreading them wide. His hand slid in the moisture at the apex of her thighs, his fingers priming her with each soft stroke, each tender swipe of his calloused hands. The roughness of his skin excited her in ways she’d never dreamed.
The slight stubble on his jaw felt like heaven against her skin as he broke off the kiss and started to move downward once more. He paused at her breasts to lick, kiss, suck and nip, seemingly encouraged by her sighs and cries of pleasure. His hands roamed, cupping, squeezing, sliding and infiltrating while she lay open and receptive under his gloriously heavy weight.