by Karen Foley
The thought was oddly depressing.
Bending down, she unzipped her duffel bag to pull out a clean change of clothing and a towel, when something white fell from the folds of fabric and drifted to the floor. Elena picked up a slip of paper that had been folded in half, her name scrawled across the front. Her pulse quickened as she slowly opened the note, half afraid of what she might find. He’d only written two lines, but they were enough for Elena.
Didn’t want to wake you up, but not ready to say goodbye.
Write to me, Elena.
He’d provided an e-mail address, and his signature was a bold slash of ink across the bottom of the note. The message was so much like him, direct and authoritative, that she had to smile.
He hadn’t wanted to say goodbye.
The realization that he’d wanted to stay in touch with her caused a slow warmth to seep through her. She closed her fingers over the paper. Write to me, Elena. Which meant that his earlier hostility at seeing her on the base was from his own fears for her safety, and not because he didn’t want her around.
“Elena, are you sure you want to stay here for six months?” Sylvia’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “There’s room on that helicopter for you if you think you’d like to go home.”
Elena turned to the other woman with a smile. “Oh, no. I’m definitely going to stay. In fact, I’m really looking forward to it. But thanks.”
She gave Sylvia a brief hug and then hefted her backpack over her shoulder. Stepping outside into the cool darkness of predawn, she made her way to the lavatory facilities, but her thoughts were on Chase. He’d written the note believing he wouldn’t see her again, at least not so soon. But the fact that he’d given her his e-mail address and asked her to write to him was huge. She knew instinctively that he wasn’t the kind of guy to give his personal information out lightly.
Lost in her thoughts, she made her way past the other living quarters. The base was mostly quiet at this hour, although she could hear the lazy thwap-thwap of an idling helicopter over on the landing pad, and guessed it was Sylvia’s ride home.
She entered the showers and saw a row of changing stalls facing a wall of lockers. Beyond the locker room, she could hear the spray of water from the shower room itself, which meant she wasn’t going to have the privacy she’d hoped for. With a resigned sigh, she set her belongings in the closest stall and quickly undressed. Wrapping her towel around her, she grabbed the bottle of shampoo that Sylvia had given to her and padded over to the open shower room.
And stopped dead in her tracks.
A man stood beneath the spray of a single nozzle, steam wreathing his body. A supremely muscled, supremely naked man.
Chase.
All the saliva in Elena’s mouth evaporated at the sight of him. He stood with his back to her, his head bent as water sluiced down his body. He soaped himself, his hands moving over his chest and up under his arms, washing there before sliding lower, over his stomach. He was golden everywhere except for the paler skin of his hips and buttocks. Despite having seen him unclothed before, Elena greedily drank in the sight of him.
He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, lean and hard, and his face…with his cheekbones and full, sensual mouth, he had a face that could make an angel weep. Elena just stood there, clutching her towel and staring. She couldn’t drag her gaze away from him, devouring the play of muscles along his sleek back. His ass was perfect, his thighs hard and sinewy. She remembered all too well the feel of them between her own, and a hot burst of yearning spread through her abdomen.
He tipped his head back, exposing his strong throat and letting the spray hit him full in the face before he slicked it away with one hand. He turned slightly, and Elena saw the heavy thrust of his penis; he was semi-aroused. Heat swamped her, churning through her veins and making her feel a little light-headed.
The plastic bottle of shampoo slipped from her fingers and bounced on the tiled floor. His head snapped around and in the next instant their gazes collided. Elena couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Chase’s eyes turned hot, and even from where she stood, she could see how every muscle in his body tightened at the sight of her, and his erection went from halfhearted to rampant in the space of a heartbeat. Her breathing quickened and with a mumbled apology, she turned on wobbly legs to flee.
“Elena.” He moved fast. He caught her by the arm and spun her around, and she found herself hauled against his wet chest. Steam still rose from his skin in a fine mist, and his lashes were spiky with moisture.
“Elena,” he said hoarsely. “What are you doing in here?”
She stared at him, mesmerized by the hunger in his expression. “I came to take a shower,” she breathed.
“This is the men’s shower. You can’t be in here.”
The sound of voices drifted toward them from outside the door. Glancing swiftly around, Chase dragged her into a changing stall and jerked the curtain closed. Before Elena could protest, he lifted her onto the wooden bench and covered her mouth with his fingers, silencing her with a single look.
“Sergeant McCormick, you in here, sir?”
Elena recognized the voice as Pete Cleary’s.
“Uh, yeah,” Chase called back. His voice was rough.
“I just thought you should know the helo’s taking off, but your girl’s not on board.”
His girl.
Elena didn’t have to guess who Pete referred to, and her eyes snapped back to Chase’s over the warmth of his hand. He was watching her intently, and twin patches of ruddy color rode high on his chiseled cheekbones. His eyes glittered, more green than hazel, and his breath came in short pants. He had a small, perfect mole on his collarbone and as Elena watched, a droplet of water fell from his hair and landed just above it, before trickling downward in a tiny rivulet. Her eyes followed its path, and she had an overwhelming desire to lap at the moisture with her tongue.
“Sir?”
Elena heard heavy footsteps enter the shower room.
“I understand. Thank you, Corporal,” Chase finally responded. “I’ll be out shortly.”
The footsteps receded and Chase slowly removed his hand from her mouth. Standing on the bench, Elena towered over him. She realized her hands were resting on his broad shoulders, and her fingers spread across his skin almost reflexively. Her glance swept downward and she was reminded he was still naked, and still very much aroused. Beneath the towel, her nipples contracted. She moistened her lips.
“I thought this was the women’s shower,” she whispered, half in explanation, half in apology.
“Elena,” he groaned, and his fingers tightened on her waist, bunching in the terry cloth and dragging it downward until the towel fell away and cool air wafted over her bare breasts and stomach.
She watched, entranced, as his eyes darkened. Then he leaned forward and very gently circled his hot tongue around one nipple. Elena gasped and her hands crept upward to clutch his head, her fingers burrowing into his dripping hair. He drew her breast into his mouth and suckled her, while his big hands cupped her bottom and pulled her closer, until she leaned fully into him.
He sucked harder and from between her thighs came an answering throb, sharp and sweet. He kneaded her bottom, and then his fingers dipped between her buttocks and found the secret spot where she pulsed hotly. He touched her intimately, one finger probing her slick entrance until Elena groaned and her legs buckled.
“Hold on to me,” he said, his voice husky, before he crouched in front of her and began laving her with his mouth and tongue.
Elena groaned. Part of her knew she should stop him, but she was too far gone. Her blood pounded hot and insistent through her veins, until she thought she might spontaneously combust. She threaded her fingers through his wet hair, and when he urged her thighs farther apart, she complied, rolling her head back against the wall of the changing stall. She was completely unrestrained in her urgency; the part of her brain that still functioned understood that an entire platoon of U.S. Mar
ines could come marching through the shower room at any moment.
She didn’t care.
All that mattered was the man who knelt before her, pleasuring her with his hands and tongue. She glanced down and the sight of his dark head at the juncture of her thighs, combined with the erotic sensations he created, was too much. She gave a strangled cry as her orgasm crashed through her. Even then, Chase didn’t stop, drawing her pleasure out until she thought she couldn’t take any more and still survive. Her fingers were still tangled in his hair, and she didn’t let go, even when he worked his way up her body, pressing warm, moist kisses along her heaving stomach and breasts. When he finally stood upright, he cupped her face in his big hands and slanted his mouth hard across hers, kissing her deeply. Elena could taste her own essence on his lips.
She wreathed her arms around his neck, boneless with release, and kissed him back. “Now it’s your turn,” she breathed into his mouth. She could feel him, hot and hard against her thighs, but as she slid a hand down to touch him, he captured her wrist, halting her.
“You have to go,” he muttered. “Someone could come in.”
Elena drew back just enough to search his eyes, but his expression was shuttered. “I don’t have to go,” she protested softly. “Not if you don’t want me to. I could stay. I want to stay.”
With a low sound of frustration, he stepped back and reached into a backpack that was on the floor, dragging out a pair of black boxer briefs and pulling them on in quick, jerky motions. Elena slid down the wall until she was sitting on the bench. She watched him fish through his gear until he found a T-shirt and hauled it over his head, yanking it into place.
“You’re upset.” She picked her towel up and covered herself with it, feeling exposed and vulnerable and defensive. “You were the one who dragged me in here, remember?” she said tightly. “I was leaving.”
His head snapped up and his eyes blazed. “Listen, it was fun but it’s not going to happen again.”
Elena stared at him. The sexual buzz she felt from her orgasm was fading fast, to be replaced with a sense of confusion and the beginnings of a simmering anger. “Oh, that’s right. I remember now—no sex on the base. Right?” Chase didn’t answer, but she knew from the rigid set of his shoulders that she’d hit the mark. He had laid down the law and nothing would induce him to break it. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” she continued, boiling. “Everything on your terms? You make the rules and I’m just supposed to obey them?”
“Damn right.”
“Well, you can forget it. You’re not the boss of me. I do what I want.”
It was a childish retort, she knew, but the man infuriated her. He made her do and say things that were totally out of character for her. She’d always prided herself on maintaining her composure, but he completely upset her equilibrium.
Before she could guess his intent, he pinned her against the wall, his face inches from hers. “What, you think this is a game?”
Elena refused to be intimidated. “What am I supposed to think? One minute you’re telling me that sex is strictly forbidden, and the next you’re—you’re—”
“Like I said, it was a mistake,” he grumbled, releasing her shoulders. His voice was full of self-disgust. “This whole thing was my fault, not yours.”
“What a relief. I feel so much better.” Elena stood up, but the changing stall was so cramped that it brought her into full body contact with Chase. He flattened himself against the opposite wall as if she carried some contagious disease.
“Don’t worry,” she said with false sweetness, wrapping her towel around herself and securing it tightly over her breasts. “I’m not going to touch you.” She let her gaze drop with deliberation to his crotch, where the fabric of his boxers molded to the impressive outline of his erection.
He still wanted her.
The knowledge pleased her. She knew what self-denial felt like; she’d spent most of her life denying her own desires and impulses. She wanted him to suffer, at least a little. “As much as I’d like to help you out, this looks like a problem you’ll need to, uh, handle yourself.”
Without waiting for a response, she yanked back the curtain of the tiny stall and stalked out. She paused only long enough to snatch up her own belongings, clutching them against her chest. Without waiting to see if he would follow, she made her way blindly toward the exit, where she saw the women’s showers were directly next door.
She just managed to dump her stuff on a bench and turn the shower on before her tough-girl facade crumbled. Stepping beneath the spray, Elena turned her face into the water. She was close to tears. Even when she’d found Larry with that woman, she hadn’t felt as miserable as she did right now. Then again, she’d never wanted Larry the way that she wanted First Sergeant Chase McCormick. And she’d known Chase for just two days, so what did that say about her?
She’d thought she could have him for just one night, with no inhibitions, no complications and no regrets. And no chance of ever running into him again.
She’d been shocked to find they were both assigned to the same forward operating base, but had convinced herself that she could handle it. On some level, she’d even understood that his initial hostility toward her stemmed from his own concern for her safety. The knowledge had made her feel…special.
But now she had to acknowledge that they had no real relationship. What they had was purely physical, and now it seemed that Chase didn’t even want that. She shouldn’t feel so upset. She didn’t even know the guy, so what did she care if he rejected her? He was probably a Class-A jerk, anyway. One of those arrogant, know-it-all alpha males who believed a woman’s place was in the bedroom.
Which, if she was honest with herself, was where she wanted to be.
In his bedroom, in his bed.
Elena told herself again that the last thing she needed was the complication of a serious relationship, especially out here.
So why did she feel so disappointed?
8
TWO DAYS HAD PASSED since the shower incident. Two days in which Chase had studiously avoided going anywhere on the base where he might cross paths with Elena. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her face as he’d pushed her away from him. He’d hurt her. But Christ, what did she expect? That they’d be able to pick up where they’d left off? The worst part of it was, he desperately wanted to resume their relationship.
He’d known when he’d met her in Kuwait that she was the kind of woman he’d like to know better. Now he told himself that they both had a job to do, and he wouldn’t let his libido get in the way of either of them doing that. But he wasn’t able to ignore her. The base was too small not to know where she was and what she was doing at any given time.
She’d reported to the contracting center the morning that he’d found her in the men’s shower. He’d watched as the contracting officer, Brad Carrington, gave her a tour of the base and took her out to view the waste water treatment facility. They’d spent about an hour talking with the men working on the project, until Carrington had walked her over to the dining facility, and then back to the contracting center.
Carrington was a good-looking guy, and he’d been at the base for over six months. He was career Navy and he was married. But Chase knew that didn’t matter to some guys. He wondered if Carrington had tried to put the moves on Elena yet, and his gut twisted at the thought of her with the young officer.
As much as he’d tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about that encounter in the showers. She’d been so hot. So incredibly sexy. He’d been unable to sleep, partly due to the time-zone change but mostly because he’d been thinking about her. So he’d risen before dawn and walked over to the showers, but even the cold water hadn’t diminished his body’s response to his memories of their night together. Then suddenly, there she was. In the shower room, her eyes turning from warm caramel to liquid amber as she’d devoured him.
He might have let her go if Corporal Cleary hadn’t threatened to walk in on t
hem. He’d lifted her onto the bench so that if the other man did come in, he’d see just one pair of feet beneath the curtain of the changing area. But that had put him on eye-level with her lush breasts, barely concealed beneath the terry cloth, and her skin had been so smooth and fragrant, and the heat in her eyes had been an invitation he couldn’t resist. And the way she’d tasted…
“McCormick, did you hear a word that I just said?”
Chase snapped his attention to the two men who occupied the tactical ops room with him. Staff Sergeant Sean Brody stood next to an oversize map of the Paktika province, circling areas where the Taliban was suspected of having strongholds. He paused, hand poised over the map as a third man, Gunnery Sergeant Rafael Delgado, leaned back in his chair and considered Chase with barely concealed impatience. With his Antonio Banderas curly black hair, dark eyes and growth of beard, Rafe could easily pass for a local tribesman, which made him invaluable for the missions they conducted. More importantly, he spoke both Pashto and Dari, as well as half a dozen other languages. Now he looked at Chase, irritation written all over his face.
“What?” Chase asked, feigning ignorance.
Rafe snorted. “I knew it. You haven’t been listening to a fucking thing we’ve said for the past fifteen minutes.”
Chase frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. As part of a five-man special operations team, he’d worked with Sean and Rafe on more missions than he cared to recall, both in Iraq and Afghanistan. He’d trust either man with his life, and he owed it to them to get his head back in the game and focus on their next operation. He squinted at the map.
“I’m listening,” he lied. “We know that Mullah Abdul Raqid is rumored to be using the town of Surobi as his stronghold, but he has the locals so completely terrorized that none of the tribal leaders will give him up for fear of reprisals.”