Man Beneath the Uniform

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Man Beneath the Uniform Page 9

by Maureen Child


  He felt her breath shudder from her lungs. Felt the solid beat of her heart against his chest and the pure pleasure of her thighs brushing along his.

  The short, black dress she wore fit her like a lover's caress. It hugged her curves and defined every tidy inch of her. The high heels on her small feet did amazing things for her legs. Her long, midnight-black hair was braided close to her skull, then fell in a long straight rope to the middle of her back. All he could think of while the end of that soft rope brushed over his hand was undoing the braid, threading his fingers through the mass of hair and pulling it all over him like a cool, black curtain.

  Mouth dry, heart pounding, he somehow kept moving, swaying to the music that seemed to be pumping inside him. When she laid her cheek on his shoulder, he inhaled the soft, flowery scent of her hair and knew he was a dead man.

  Everything about this woman called out to him on so many levels. He wanted her. Wanted to be inside her. Wanted to hold her and be held.

  And he didn't think he'd be able to wait for her to come to him.

  Zack reluctantly gave way as an older gentleman cut in and spun Kim into a waltz. She smiled at him over her new partner's shoulder and Zack held on to that smile while the next hour crawled by.

  He mingled, feeling uncomfortable and wondering what the hell he was doing at this kind of a party. The whole place reeked of money and it hit Zack hard to realize that Kim was used to all of this. That she'd grown up in circumstances he would never be able to relate to. They were from such widely different backgrounds, they could have been from two different planets.

  And yet, he couldn't keep his gaze off her. She moved through the crowd with an ease and grace he admired all the more because he could see the discomfort in her eyes. No one else did, though, and he was proud of her. She handled strangers and friends alike. Always a warm smile and a few kind words. Zack stayed on the periphery of the party, where he could watch and still keep to himself. And his view of Kim kept his blood pumping. He couldn't seem to quell the rush of his blood when she was near. Couldn't seem to stop the desire that pumped through him every time he looked at her.

  So he quit trying.

  He listened to speeches, and even paid attention when Abraham, reacting to a request from a guest, retold the story of Miss Carlisle, the Danforth ghost. Comforting to know he wasn't the only one who'd been surprised with a visit from the dead.

  But after an hour or more of smiling and fielding stupid questions about the military, Zack was near the end of both his rope and his patience. Sidling onto the dance floor, he stole Kim from the arms of yet another old Southern gentleman and quickly whirled her to a corner of the room. His hand slid up and down her spine and she smiled up at him.

  "Having fun?"

  "Oh, yeah," he said wryly, pulling her more tightly to him. "Haven't had this much fun since the last time our chopper went down in the desert."

  One corner of her mouth tipped up. "If it makes you feel any better, my feet are killing me."

  He glanced at the pointy-toed heels. "They may not be comfortable, but they look great."

  "Small consolation."

  "Not from where I'm standing."

  "Are you always this smooth?"

  Zack grinned. The whole damn party was tolerable now that he had her in his arms again. "Do you really have to ask?"

  "I'm glad you're here, even if you're having a lousy time," she said.

  "Right now, I'd have to say I'm enjoying myself."

  "Me, too," Kim admitted and swayed with him as he kept time with the music.

  She slid her hand higher up on his shoulder and leaned into him. Zack tightened his grip on her right hand and tucked it next to his chest. "You know, Doc," he said, "I was thinking we could—"

  "Kimberly, is that you?" A deep voice cut him off neatly.

  Scowling, Zack shot a glance at the man who'd interrupted them. But when Kim stiffened in his arms, his protective instincts went on full alert.

  She pulled away from him slightly and might have stepped out of his arms, had he allowed it. But Zack kept her pressed close to him even as she turned to look at the couple who'd stopped alongside them.

  The shorter man had thick blond hair and small blue eyes. His smile was picture-perfect, but Zack thought his chin looked weak. The woman beside him was a stunner, from her dark red hair to the tips of her bloodred polished toes. A beauty, Zack thought, but a little cold around the eyes.

  "Hello, Charles," Kim said.

  Ah, Zack thought. The idiot.

  "You're looking … well," Charles said, "isn't she, Elizabeth?"

  His wife, though, hardly glanced at Kim. Instead her gaze locked on to Zack as she asked, "And you are?"

  "Grateful," Zack said, tightening his grip on Kim and sliding one hand down her spine in an intimate caress that couldn't be missed.

  "I'm sorry?" Charles said.

  "Yes, you are, aren't you, Chuck?" Zack said.

  A stunned silence ticked past.

  "Charles, Elizabeth," Kim said, speaking up to fill the void, "this is Zack Sheridan."

  "I'm glad we got a chance to meet, Chuck," Zack said, deliberately using the name that had the other man flinching. He ran one hand idly up and down Kim's arm in a proprietary gesture the other man didn't miss. "Wanted to thank you for being such an ass."

  Charles's eyes popped in insulted surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

  "No need," Zack assured him, fighting down the urge to plow a fist into that weak chin. This was the man who'd hurt Kim? Hell, he wasn't even worth hitting. He'd go down too easy. "You're forgiven.

  "I don't—"

  "Zack," Kim said, glancing at the other dancers as if afraid someone might overhear.

  But Zack kept his voice pitched at a level directed solely at Barrington. "After all," he said, as if Kim hadn't interrupted him, "if you hadn't been such a chump, I wouldn't be here with Kim. So thanks again. Now, good night."

  With that, he swung Kim into a wide circle and kept them moving until they were on the far side of the floor.

  "I can't believe you just did that," she said, staring up at him, a smile dazzling her eyes and tugging at her mouth.

  "I can't believe you're surprised," he quipped.

  "Me, either," she said with a laugh that made him feel as though someone had just pinned a medal on his chest. "Thanks."

  His hand swept up and down her spine again and he watched as flames of desire lit up her eyes. "Trust me on this," he said. "My pleasure."

  "Zack…"

  "How long do we have to stay at this thing?" His voice was low and tight, aching with a need that was suddenly so sharp, so vicious, it clawed at him.

  "I don't—"

  "I need you, Kim," he said, forcing the words past the knot in his throat that threatened to suffocate him on the spot. "I can't wait for you to come to me." He tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him until she was bound to feel the thick, hard proof of his desires pushing at her.

  Her eyes slid closed and a whisper of air slipped through her lips. "Zack, I…"

  "I admit it, Kim. I want you." His gaze moved over her face and his heart pumped furiously. "I want you so bad, I may not be able to walk out of here."

  She lifted her gaze to his and stared hard at him for a long moment. Then she licked her lips, inhaled sharply and said, "Can you run?"

  * * *

  Nine

  « ^ »

  Zack kept his foot on the accelerator and took every red light like a personal insult.

  Jaw clenched, gaze narrowed on the road in front of him, Zack fought down the urge to pull the car over to the curb and just have her right there. It was all he could do to keep his hands on the wheel—when he wanted them on her. He'd never wanted anything in his life the way he wanted Kim Danforth. Her perfume filled his head. Heat from her body reached out for him across the bucket seats and seemed to singe him, even with the open space separating them. Every short, strangled breath she drew ratt
led through him, leaving him just a little more shaken than he'd been before.

  His heart hammering in his chest, Zack told himself it was ridiculous, that he was acting like a teenager about to get lucky with a cheerleader.

  It didn't seem to matter.

  His blood raced in time with the SUV as it swerved in and out of traffic. He heard Kim gasp when he took a corner a little more sharply than he'd planned. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered. "I'll slow down."

  "Don't you dare," she whispered tightly and those three words were enough to have him floor the gas pedal and pray for green lights.

  "Right. No slowing down."

  The Danforth mansion was far behind them now. The crowds, the music, the inane chatter that had swelled to the ceiling, trapping them both for far too long in polite society—it was all gone. Now, it was just the two of them and nothing else mattered. It was as if the desire that had crouched between them so hungrily had suddenly erupted, tearing at them both with vicious tugs and pulls that couldn't be denied any longer.

  Zack didn't even care that he had been the one to break first. Didn't mind that she hadn't come to him. All he cared about now was having his hands on her. His mind filled with images, one after the other. Visions of them tangled together on her bed. His hands sliding up her long, sleek legs, fisting in her hair. His mouth on hers as he entered her.

  He groaned tightly and ordered his brain to shut down. All he needed was to wrap the damn car around a telephone pole. If he died in a wreck before he'd had a chance to bed Kim, he'd be one pissed-off ghost.

  Taking the right turn onto her street, Zack emptied his mind of everything but parking the damn car. He pulled into the driveway, threw the car into Park, yanked up the brake, turned the engine off and reached for Kim.

  She was on the same page.

  Unlatching her seat belt, she leaned into him, moving into his embrace as if the only thing that had been holding her back was the canvas strap.

  Zack pulled her across the gap between the seats and pinned her on his lap. She scooted around until she was comfortable, grinding her hips and bottom against his already hard, tight body.

  "Doc," he murmured, between brief, hot tastes of her mouth, "you're killin' me here."

  "No," she said, sliding her hands up to cup his face, "not yet. I want you alive and well and … I just want you."

  "Good, babe, that's good." He took her mouth completely this time, giving in to the need to taste her. To feel her sighs slide into him, to feel the warmth of her.

  He savored her, drinking her in and giving himself the pleasure of this first discovery. This wonder of mouths and tongues and breaths, mingling, blending, becoming one. And he felt the slam of something powerful punch at him as he held her tighter, closer, pressing her body against his until he felt her hardened nipples pushing into his chest like tiny firebrands.

  Zack slid one hand up her thigh, under the hem of that short black dress and groaned when he found the tops of her sheer black thigh-high stockings—a wide, elastic band of lace. Instantly, his mind filled with the picture of Kim, wearing only those stockings and the roaring in his ears told him his blood was pumping wild and hot.

  She shifted in his grasp, sliding around on his lap again as his fingers drifted higher, higher.

  "Zack…"

  "Just let me touch you, darlin'," he murmured, bending his head to kiss her neck, nibbling at her flesh with lips and teeth.

  "Oh, boy," she whispered, tipping her head to one side, giving him easier access.

  "Oh, yeah," he said, his breath dusting her skin. She was all. She was everything. She fit in his arms as though made for him. The way she turned into his chest, the way she curled her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his throat—she was so much more than he'd ever found before. So much more than he'd expected or hoped for.

  Outside the car, Kim's neighborhood was dark and silent. Homes were locked up for the night and the only sound other than their own breathing was that of a dog, somewhere in the distance, howling at the moon. Zack knew just how the mutt felt. Hell, he wanted to howl, too.

  He slid his fingers higher up her thigh, close, so close to the center of her heat.

  She lifted her hips and her head fell back as she gasped, a quick, sharp intake of breath. "Zack, I want—"

  "Me, too, darlin'," he said, lowering his head to kiss the base of her throat. "I can't wait. I have to touch you now."

  She lifted her head to look at him, and in the wash of moonlight, her eyes looked impossibly dark and full of secrets. Their gazes locked and she cupped his face in her palms. "I don't want to wait another minute, Zack," she said softly, each word hitting him like a velvet bullet, slamming into his chest, his mind, his heart. "Touch me, Zack," she whispered, leaning close for a kiss. "Touch me now."

  Her mouth came down on his as his hand moved to cup her heat. She moaned and shifted uncomfortably, but he held her still. A man on a mission now, he swept his hand up her thigh, grabbed the edge of what felt like lace panties and gave them a quick twist. They tore easily and just like that, he had his hands on her.

  In her.

  She sucked in a gulp of air and kissed him again, hungrily, mating her tongue to his, and Zack's heart thundered in a heavy rhythm that rattled his ears and shook him to his bones. Lifting her hips for him, she groaned from the back of her throat as he pushed first one finger, then two, into her damp, waiting heat.

  He tore his mouth from hers and breathed like a man coming up from twenty fathoms. She arched in his grasp and her legs fell apart, wider, wider, offering him more, offering him everything. He took. His thumb dusted the small nub of flesh at the heart of her and she cried out, her voice breaking on his name.

  "Zack, it's too much, it's too—"

  "Not enough, babe," he whispered, his own voice cracking on the hard knot of lust lodged in his throat. "Not nearly enough." His fingers dipped in and out of her heat, pushing her, driving her, higher and higher. Her hips pumped, her breath quickened and danced in and out of her lungs on a frantic beat.

  "Feels good. Feels…" She stiffened, and a low, keening moan slid from her throat as her body dissolved into a starburst of sensation.

  "Right," he murmured, staring into her eyes as the first explosion ripped through her body. "It feels right."

  * * *

  Heart pounding, throat tight, Kim felt every cell in her body go soft and gooey and slide into a near-liquid state. If he hadn't been holding on to her, she probably would have oozed off his lap and onto the floor of the car.

  The car.

  Oh, boy. She'd just had the best orgasm of her life in the front seat of a car parked in her driveway.

  Her brain whispered that she should be ashamed of herself.

  Her body told her brain to shut up and enjoy the ride.

  "That was," she said as soon as she thought she could speak without whimpering, "amazing."

  "Wait until I have more room to maneuver," he said, one corner of his mouth tipping into a smile that tugged at her heart.

  "Wow."

  "That about covers it," he agreed and smoothed the hem of her skirt down her thighs. "Now how about we get inside and finish what we started?"

  "You bet," Kim said, eager now for more. Her body still humming from his touch, she wanted more. Needed more. Needed to feel him filling her, his body sliding into hers, pushing her up that glorious peak one more time.

  He opened the car door and stepped out, carrying her with him.

  "I can walk," she said.

  "And I can carry you," he told her, bending his head for a brief, hard kiss. "I like this way better."

  Her, too, Kim thought. She felt like the heroine in a romantic movie. The handsome naval officer sweeping her off her feet and carrying her off for a long night of lovemaking.

  How, she wondered, had this happened to her life? How had she gone from being a lonely marine biologist to having a sexual experience in a parked car, in less than two weeks? And how could she ever g
o back to the way her life was before Zack had entered it?

  He stepped up onto the porch and promptly slung her over his left shoulder as he dug for his keys.

  "Hey!" She pushed herself up by planting her hands on his back. "This is slightly less romantic, Sheridan."

  He unlocked the door, then reached up to smooth the palm of his hand across her bare bottom. His fingers kneaded her soft flesh, sparking new needs, new desires. Kim shivered at the intimate caress and nearly melted against him.

  "Give me a chance, Doc," he said as he carried her into the tiny house, "I'm just getting started."

  "Promises, promises." She swung the door closed behind them and Zack headed straight for her bedroom.

  He walked through the open doorway and stepped up alongside the bed. Then with one smooth flip, he had her on her back on the mattress, staring up at him as he tore at his uniform blouse.

  "Peaches, you want romantic, you've got it." He grinned as he got rid of his clothing in record time. Then he was naked, standing in front of her and all Kim could do was stare.

  She couldn't take her eyes off him. Moonlight speared through the bedroom window and shone on him, defining every muscle, every hard edge and scar. He took her breath away. His eyes gleamed as he watched her and Kim's stomach jumped when desire flashed across his eyes.

  "Now you, darlin'," he said.

  Nodding, Kim scooted to the edge of the bed. Then she turned around and said, "Unzip me?" She could have done it herself, but she wanted his hands on her. She wanted to feel the whisper-soft touch of his fingers along her spine.

  The zipper pulled free with a sigh of sound and his hands followed it down, smoothing along her back, curving along her hips.

  "No bra," he said, turning her in his arms as he pushed the fabric of her dress down, letting it fall to the floor in a chic black puddle.

  "No," she said and hissed in a breath as his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers tweaking her already rigid nipples into hard buds of aching need. "You have magic hands," she whispered.

 

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