by Liz Crowe
Her heart was thudding in her chest. Surely he could hear it.
“I don’t think I want to hear another story,” he whispered.
His fingers slid down her arm, giving her the chills. She closed her eyes as she felt him take hold of her hand and kiss her knuckles.
“Drink up, sweet Gina. Then, I’m going to take you to my place. Unless you say no. But you’ve got to decide tonight which way it’s going to be. I don’t like all these indecisions and stories. I’m not interested if Sam is even slightly in the picture. I don’t share, honey.”
“Thought you didn’t want commitment,” she whispered. It was dangerous to say, but she had to know.
His dark eyes scanned her face. The lines were getting blurred between who she was as a cop and who she was as a woman.
“All good things start with trust. At some point the stories and the lies have to stop, and we’re left alone with the truth. When I’m seeing someone, I expect that she isn’t seeing anyone else on the side. I think that’s just trust and respect, Gina. Not commitment.” He sighed and stared down at his beer glass. “I need to know where you stand on this.”
She saw why he was so good at his job. He had the ability to know the difference between what he was feeling and what he needed to do. He’d had the training. She did not. He was able to make those tough choices she was struggling with.
“If you can’t decide, then I wait until you do. But I don’t sleep around and I won’t let you either.”
She heard the lyrics and music to an oldies song she’d heard growing up.
He slid away from her, leaving the space between them cold and empty
The pink drink with the topknot looked ridiculous. She grabbed it with both hands and gulped away, dipping her nose in the whipped cream.
Before she got to the bottom of the drink she could feel the effects of the alcohol. He was still staring at her.
“What’s it going to be, Gina?”
“There isn’t any Sam. There really never was.”
“So, make a clean break of it. Get your work done, and get away from him. You won’t be happy until you confront the way he haunts you, and why.”
“Does anything haunt you, Armando?”
“Lots of things, baby. But you have to decide which dog you’re going to feed. You let the dog of fear starve. You feed the dog that brings you joy.”
“I’m ready to face some of my fears. Can you help me with that? Do you want to help me with that?”
He didn’t touch her, but she knew he wanted to.
“Absolutely.”
“No more lies,” she said.
“No more lies. Just the truth,” he answered.
She wanted to believe those words, but there were still a few secrets she needed to keep. For now. Just for a few more days. Then she’d explain everything and he’d understand.
“I’m ready, Armando.”
“I like to watch how you just throw yourself into things,” he said. “It’s sexy as hell.”
Yup. That’s me. I just jump right in where I don’t belong. Get myself all tangled up with the men in my life. Can’t say yes. Can’t stop trying.
Sexy? Did he say sexy?
She exhaled and set the nearly finished drink down on the table. Her hands were shaking and covered in the syrupy sweetness. He picked up her fingers again and began to suckle each one. Then he concentrated on wiping them down with a napkin he pressed between his warm palms.
“All better.” He tipped her chin in his direction. “Shall we go, honey?”
She hoped she didn’t have a lapdog look to her face, but his brown curly hair and warm brown eyes made her melt. She felt like she was thirteen with that first crush on the minister’s son in junior high.
Her adult voice surprised her. “Yes. Let’s go.”
She didn’t remember the slow ride to his place, over the tall bridge that used to take her breath away when she traveled over it early on. She loved the feeling growing inside her stomach with the knowledge that she would be making love with him tonight, in his bed, in the place he went to for solace, where he repaired himself after missions, where he looked at himself in the mirror in the morning, where he shaved, where he tied his shoes and foraged for granola. She wanted all the regular, ordinary things about this man to be part of her routine, part of what she got to witness. There had never been this kind of connection in her life before.
So satisfying was the thought that they were both circling the wagons, chasing each other, like she used to do as a child. She was trying not to get caught, and desperately wanting to be caught at the same time.
She knew that with the CD she had provided Kozinski, if there was enough there, perhaps this mission would all be over with by Monday. They’d have the evidence they would need on Carlos. Sam would be out of her life forever, just as Armando had requested.
Was this what they talked about when they talked of love? That full feeling at the pit of her stomach, full of promise, sparked with erotic fantasies that came over her all the time now. She wanted to stretch the length of the bed and feel as much of his flesh against hers as was possible. This was the way you felt when you were really, madly, deeply in love.
And to think not more than an hour ago she was considering giving all this up.
Where was my head?
Storm clouds started to rush in, and she bid them leave. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to think about anything but what was going to happen tonight in his bedroom.
An hour later, Gina woke up in Armando’s bed, startled at first. His tanned, sleek, dangerous body was covering hers, his hips pinning her down, just as they had when he’d made love to her. He’d been extra gentle. He let her show him how fast to go and what to do. He asked her what she wanted.
Asked me.
She adjusted her right hip and moved her thigh down the back of his. He awakened with a quick inhale. Those brown bedroom eyes of his immediately honed in on her lying underneath him and he smiled. She traced the creases at the right of his mouth, twisting her head and looking at the growth of stubble already forming on his chin as well as underneath it. Time was suspended in the hush between their two hearts beating, pressed flesh against flesh.
“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed him.
“For what?” He winked and gave her a half smile in jest.
“For making me feel safe. Safest I’ve felt in a long time.”
“Oh, really?” His eyes went elsewhere. Then he returned, “I don’t hear that very often. Most people are afraid of me.”
He wasn’t smiling, so she had to ask. “Women are afraid of you?”
“I think so. Self-preservation.”
It was her time to frown. “I have a hard time thinking of a SEAL as anything but heroic. Protector of the innocent. Upholding everything good and holy. All that.”
Armando smirked.
There was something there Gina wanted to see. “What?”
“We have our dark places too.”
“What, making love to women without protection? That’s the worst you’ve done with me.” She noticed he’d begun a devilish grin. “Don’t you like being thought of as heroic?”
“Yes. I like to be trusted.”
“Heroic.” Gina didn’t understand the distinction.
“You can’t trust anyone unless you give them the power to hurt you.”
Gina felt this was odd as a ghost shivered up her spine. There had been a threshold crossed into a different room. She wanted to know more. She was desperate to know more.
“I trust you, but far from hurting me, you make me feel…wonderful,” she said.
“You don’t even know me,” he answered, giving her a long, liquid kiss.
“I trusted you to screw me in the back of a pickup truck,” Gina began. Armando was biting the side of her neck and her right earlobe. “I trusted you to take me home to your bedroom, your bed. I’ve thrown a little caution to the wind.” She looked at the ceiling to the right of
his head. She was searching for something to say, but couldn’t come up with it. Armando found her left nipple and gave her a nip. She did not move away from the pain.
“You regret anything we’ve done?” he asked.
“It excites me to think about those things.” Gina realized this was the missing piece she’d been looking for earlier.
“Screwing in the back of a strange pickup truck.”
“With people driving by, maybe guessing what we were doing,” she said. The more she thought about it, she remember it had been a totally hot lay. Possibly the best of her life, until today.
“You liked that too, huh?”
“Heightens the pleasure, I think. We couldn’t wait to get home.”
“And we almost couldn’t wait today. But we did.” He nuzzled her neck. “Ah Gina, Gina, Gina.”
It occurred to her that perhaps he wanted something more for round two. “So what are you saying, Armando?”
“Nothing. We should get up and get dressed.” He abruptly stopped kissing her.
He had begun to go somewhere else inside. She could see a faraway look on his face as he stared out the window. She needed his eyes on her. She needed his total focus on her.
“Do you want to get dressed?” she asked.
He dazzled her again with a white smile. “Well, this is pretty nice.”
“Pretty nice. Gee, just what a girl wants to hear.”
“Okay,” he said between kisses. “It was wonderful.”
She had an idea that began to thrill her. “How can I show you I trust you, then? What can I do?”
A spark registered deep in his brown eyes, some small flame that could flare out of control.
“Everyone has a dangerous side, Gina.” He did not smile this time.
“A dangerous side that is in need of someone to trust it.”
“Yes.” He was looking down at the space between her breasts. His penis was fully erect, and could penetrate her if he moved that way. She decided to resist him a little. Maybe that’s what he wanted, after all.
“So, make me trust you,” she said.
“No. You already have.”
“So do something else.” She tried to make eye contact, but he was avoiding her.
“Something dangerous?” he finally asked as he searched her face, and placed his thumbs at her temples.
“If that’s what you want,” she said. Her heart was thumping. She was heading into dangerous ground. Where was all this leading?
“Is that what you want?”
“I want to give you something I have not given anyone before.”
“What are you most afraid of, Gina?”
She wasn’t sure. She wondered what fears, demons he had killed off. What kinds of fears had he had to face? Was he asking her to go along that pathway with him?
“Or, who are you most afraid of?” he corrected.
“That’s easy. Sam.”
“So, why do you let him see you? Is there a place you go, like being in the pickup truck being seen by strangers? Does seeing him make you excited?”
“No. I am actually afraid.”
“Because you don’t trust him.”
“Because I know he wants to hurt me. Deep down, I know he wants to hurt me.”
“That’s a good instinct. That instinct will keep you alive, Gina.”
“Is this what you do when you are over there?”
“Yes.”
“You face your fears, you rely on instinct? You starve the dog of fear?”
“Yes.” He moved over her, smoothing his callused palms over her breasts. Sifting his fingers through her hair, he bent down and kissed her. “I’m sorry you were hurt, Gina. You’ve got scars, just like I do.”
“Yes. Heal me, Armando.”
“Babe, I wish I could. But just being here, close like this, telling each other things like this.” He dropped lower and started a slow tongue roll from her nipple to her navel, and then lower. “Letting me taste you,” he whispered as he twirled her clitoris with his tongue. “Opening up to me.”
She spread her knees further as he inserted two fingers. Gina exploded as a slow vibration began to hum inside her belly.
“Everything that’s supposed to happen will happen,” he said as he looked up at her from the space between her thighs. “And know this. I would never hurt you, lovely Gina. You’ll always be safe with me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Thank God for Saturday mornings, Gina thought as she stretched. Her hands hit the bedframe and the images of her fingers gripping the cool metal while Armando worked his magic between her legs made her suddenly wet. The bed—his bed—was cold and empty beside her. But she could smell fresh coffee and something cooking and she knew he wasn’t gone.
The bedroom was sparse, like hers was. But he wasn’t undercover, like she was. She’d given up her studio cottage—the one she’d loved down by the beach. She’d toyed with the idea of going back there to visit. She’d have walked down the white sandy spans and turned up the narrow brick pathway to her cottage only a block away. She missed being able to open her windows and smell the salt water and mist first thing in the morning. Until the affair with Sam started, she’d always slept like a baby there.
Like last night. As she moved her legs over his white sheets underneath the green down coverlet, she felt the delicious soreness in her core. That place he had tasted, touched with his fingers, and so royally screwed. Her nipples were still raw from all the kissing and biting. Her wrists were slightly sore where she’d tugged and struggled against the silk.
All good. It’s all good.
She saw a picture on his dresser and rose from the bedding naked to take a better look. It was a picture of him in his dress whites. His tanned face was stunning contrast to the bright white jacket with the gold buttons. Above one pocket encrusted with ribbons, she recognized the gold SEAL Trident. Next to him stood a very short woman with salt and pepper braided hair pinned to her head like a crown. The woman was beaming. On the other side of Armando, Mia stood, looking no older than a young girl. She already had a wild and tempestuous look.
There was a picture of five men dressed in fatigues, shirtless, jumping off a bridge together. She recognized Fredo and guessed it was some right of passage their team had gone through.
She separated the blinds and looked outside at the sliver of a view of the ocean. She preferred her old cottage, but the ocean was the same. Rolling quietly, as its namesake: Pacifico.
There wasn’t anything else in the room that was personal, and this seemed odd to her. His sliding closet door had been installed with a lock and she guessed he had equipment and probably guns stored there. She placed her elbows on the dresser top and examined her face between her palms. The woman she saw there looked happy. Dizzy in love. She felt safe and taken care of.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Armando was standing in a pair of shorts and white V-necked T-shirt, holding two white mugs of coffee. He had leaned into the doorway and had been watching her. As soon as they made eye contact he smiled that brilliant white smile that made his eyes sparkle.
“How long have you been standing here?” she blurted, embarrassed.
He peeled himself off the doorframe and came toward her, extending one steaming mug. “Not long. I just like to watch you.”
“You seem to do that a lot,” she said as she accepted the mug. Their fingers touched as she took the coffee. The electric zing she got sent a jolt right to that spot between her legs. Her body ached for him again, just with that little touch.
He must have felt the same, as he set down his mug and came around the backside of her. She took a sip of the wonderfully dark coffee while he nuzzled her neck, bringing his warm palms to her chest. His breathing became deeper. The SEAL smelled of bacon but she still found it sexy. She could barely get another sip in before he brought his face to rest next to hers, cheek to cheek, as they looked at each other in the mirror’s reflection.
There were no words to express how wonderful it felt being next to him, waking up in the room that he woke up in every morning—hopefully every morning, that is. To emerge naked from his bed and be here, as he’d told her last night, where no other woman had been before. That felt significant. Could this be the start of something long lasting? Dare she even consider such a hope?
Dark clouds began to gather, but now he was kissing the back of her neck and under one ear. “Gina, I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed, but—” he stopped himself as he turned her around slowly, pulling back her hair and searching her face. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
“I feel the same.” She stepped to press herself against his chest. Her fingers laced over his buttocks as she gently pulled his groin into her belly. She fondled him while he watched the arousal her hands made.
“You up for a shower?” He whispered.
“I am if you’ll be joining me.”
“I’ll be joining you all right,” he said as he smiled and took her hand.
The glass enclosure was small, but it didn’t matter. She enjoyed the brush of his thighs against hers, the way every movement brought their bodies together. She shampooed her hair while he smoothed shower gel over her backside. He helped rinse out all the bubbles as she rubbed her bottom against his groin. She lathered his back and helped him rinse off.
With water pounding on his head, he knelt and delicately investigated the lips of her sex. Once his fingers found her opening, his tongue soon followed. Gina braced herself on the glass walls, bending to sit on a small ledge, while Armando nibbled her labia. He drew one of her knees up and over his shoulder as he knelt in front of her, taking his fill. Gina’s spasms spurred him on deeper. He added two fingers and she began to orgasm out of control.
Abruptly he turned her around and bent her forward. He quickly rammed himself inside her while she was still pulsing. Her swollen lips were sore from the strenuous lovemaking during the long night, but she never wanted the feeling to end, and he started spending deep inside her. He gripped her body by the hips and dug deep until at last he was done.