Born on the 4th of July

by Rhonda Nelson; Karen Foley Jill Shalvis

  There was a brief silence. “That had to have been my parents’ doing.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were shot while rescuing a child? Or that the weekend I was in California with you, they awarded you the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star?” Megan couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice.

  She heard him blow out a breath of frustration. “I was just doing my job, babe.”

  “Not according to the papers.” Megan couldn’t believe he was making light of something so important. “Matt, what you did was amazing. The tabloids are saying that you’re a hero, that you survived that bullet because you rescued the child.”

  Matt snorted. “Oh, right. Let me tell you something. My surviving that bullet was sheer luck and had nothing to do with karma.” His voice dropped, as if he was talking to himself. “If that was the case, I’d definitely be dead.”

  “Matt,” she said, using her firmest teacher voice, “don’t you dare talk like that. You did what needed to be done, and you saved lives. Don’t you ever forget that, okay? That little girl’s family owes you a debt of gratitude. You are a hero.”

  “All I can say is it must be a slow day in the newsroom if they agreed to do a front-page story about me.” He gave a rueful laugh. “Not very exciting.”

  Megan smiled. “You’re being modest. Besides, I happen to find you very exciting.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” Matt’s voice dropped an octave. “What are you wearing right now?”

  “What?”

  “What time did you get up?”

  Megan glanced at her bedside clock. “I got up about thirty minutes ago. Why?”

  “What did you wear to bed?”

  Megan bit back a smile. “A pair of underpants and an old T-shirt.”

  “Like the one in the photo you sent to me?”

  Megan recalled the picture she had sent to Matt of herself, clad in a pair of shorts and a cami.

  “Not exactly,” she replied.

  “Describe it to me, then,” he said, and his voice had taken on a husky note. “I dreamed of you last night. I woke up with a helluva hard-on.”

  Megan felt herself flush warmly all over, she could envision it so clearly. “What did you do?” Her voice was breathless.

  Matt laughed softly. “Nothing. I called you, because this is something only you can take care of. So, describe to me what you’re wearing. In detail.”

  “Are you still in bed?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “What are you wearing?” Megan asked softly, but had a feeling she already knew.

  “Nothing, babe. Absolutely nothing.”

  Megan realized her breathing had quickened just thinking about him in bed, naked and aroused. “I wish I was there with you. I could…take care of you.”

  “Oh, you will,” he said huskily. “What color are your panties?”

  Megan glanced down at herself. “They’re pale blue. Satin.”

  “Mm. Sounds nice. What about the top?”

  “It’s just plain white cotton.”

  “There’s nothing plain about it, babe.”

  Megan laughed uncertainly. “How do you know? You can’t see it.”

  “Oh, I can imagine it just fine. I can see the way the fabric hugs your curves, and that plain white cotton does nothing to hide your breasts, or the fact that your nipples are hard.”

  A quick glance confirmed he was right; her nipples jutted out beneath the thin fabric of the shirt.

  “How did you know?”

  Matt chuckled warmly. “Male intuition. Where are you right now?”

  “Sitting on the edge of my bed.”

  “Perfect. Now lie back against the pillows and run your fingers over your breasts. Go ahead,” he urged when she hesitated. “Tell me when you’re there.”

  Megan did as he asked, feeling a little foolish but recognizing the tendrils of excitement that were beginning to unfurl low in her womb. She felt naughty, but at the same time she wanted to find out just how far Matt might take this, and how willing she might be to go along with him.

  “I’m lying back against the pillows,” she said. “I’m wearing my silk bathrobe over my underwear. It’s white with black Japanese lettering.”

  “Spread it so that it fans out on the sheet around you, then bend your knees and open your legs,” Matt commanded softly.

  Megan did as he asked, letting her thighs fall apart and feeling warmth build at her core. Holding the phone to her ear, she used her free hand to skim over her breasts. She closed her eyes, imagining it was Matt’s hand stroking her body.

  “Oh,” she gasped softly into the receiver, “I’m touching my breasts through the T-shirt. My nipples ache.”

  Matt groaned softly. “Play with them for me, babe. Roll them between your fingertips the way I would do.”

  “I am,” she replied. “It feels so good. I wish I could see you, touch you…taste you.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m wishing the same thing. I’m picturing you spread out on that bed. Slide your hand over your belly and down between your legs.”

  “Okay.” Megan did as he asked. Her breathing quickened at the sensation. “My panties are damp,” she breathed, “and I’m feeling so…so…”

  “Horny?” She could hear the amusement in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Take your panties off and touch yourself,” Matt said, his voice oddly hoarse. “Then tell me what you feel.”

  Megan pushed her panties down and then kicked them free, feeling wanton and uninhibited under Matt’s encouragement. She slid her fingers through her damp curls until she found her slick center. “Oh,” she groaned. “I’m wet. I’m pretending it’s you touching me. I’m picturing you, naked. I can see how hard you are, and I wish I could put my mouth on you. I love how you taste.”

  “Ah, babe,” Matt said, his voice a low growl. “I’m stroking my cock, imagining how hot you look right now. Put your fingers inside yourself, then touch your clit.”

  “Matt,” she protested weakly, but did as he asked. Her hips shifted restlessly beneath her hand. She gave a soft moan, and heard Matt hum in approval.

  “That’s it…oh, man, I wish I was there. I’d go down on you, lick you and tease you with my tongue. Then, when your juices were covering my chin and you were begging me for release, I’d take you.”

  Matt’s breathing had become ragged, as if he’d just sprinted up several flights of stairs, and Megan could picture him clearly, his hand fisted around his gorgeous erection, stroking it as it swelled. The image was so vivid and so arousing that when she circled her fingers over herself, the inner muscles of her channel began to tighten and then convulse as wave after wave of intense, dizzying pleasure consumed her.

  “Oh, oh,” she gasped into the phone, shuddering. “I’m coming, Matt.”

  He groaned loudly in her ear, his breathing harsh. “Me, too, babe, me, too.”

  The knowledge that he had reached the same pinnacle of release that she had was both exciting and disturbing. Never before had she met anyone who could entice her into having phone sex, and then actually succeed in bringing her to orgasm with nothing more than his sexy suggestions.

  Megan lay against the pillows, boneless and sated, listening to the sound of Matt’s breathing on the other end as it became more regular.

  “Hey, you okay?” he asked after a moment.

  “Mmm. That was unbelievable.”

  “Yeah, it was,” Matt agreed. “Now maybe I can actually focus on something else today besides how much I miss you.”

  His words warmed Megan. “When are you coming home?”

  “I fly into Boston on Friday.”

  Megan sat up, pulling her robe closed. “That’s in two days!”

  “Yep. I’m wrapping up a little sooner than expected. I actually have a favor to ask you. A buddy of mine is holding a fundraiser next week for wounded vets, and I volunteered to help out. I’d love it if you came with me.”

  “Where is the fundraiser being held?�
��

  “Out at Fort Devens. They’re having a carnival or something, and it’s open to the public.”

  “I’d love to go,” she said quickly.

  “You’re sure?” he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “No other plans?”

  “Nothing that I can’t change,” Megan assured him. “My mom called earlier to tell me that my sister was going to be in town, and asked if I’d come up to see her. But my family always gets together over the Fourth of July, so I’ll see her then. I’d rather go to the fundraiser with you.”

  “Great. Maybe we can drive up to see your parents and your sister the next day.”

  Megan’s eyebrows flew up, and she was grateful he couldn’t see her astonished expression.

  “If you want to, that is,” Matt continued. “I’d like to meet your family. I kinda feel like I already know them.”

  Megan had talked about her family in her letters to Matt, but the fact that he wanted to meet them caused a tornado of anxiety to swirl through her stomach.

  “Let’s play it by ear,” she finally managed. “I don’t mind going up to see them, but I’ll give you some time to change your mind.”

  Matt laughed. “Not going to happen. But it’s totally up to you. I’ll call you as soon as I get in. Listen, I hate to do this, but I have to run if I’m going to make it to the base in time for morning drills. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

  Megan hung up the phone and curled onto her side, replaying the entire scenario and conversation over in her head.

  He wanted to meet her parents.

  That in itself was enough to cause her stomach to fist. Megan had the sinking feeling that while Matt might have said he wanted to meet them just to be polite, her parents would attach more importance to the event than it actually warranted and begin thinking of Matt as The One.

  Worse, Megan found herself hoping that they were right.

  6

  MATT COULDN’T BELIEVE that in the space of a few short days he’d forgotten what a knockout Megan was. When he’d pulled up to her town house to pick her up, he’d been blown away all over again by the package she presented. Wearing a pair of white shorts and a little pink tank top, she looked good enough to eat and it was all he could do not to drag her into her bedroom and devour her. But she’d been so self-conscious and shy about seeing him that he’d given her a chaste kiss instead and escorted her to his truck. In fact, he couldn’t believe this was the same girl who had met him in California and who had engaged in off-the-charts-hot phone sex with him.

  He had a suspicion that his newfound celebrity status had something to do with her reserve. The local news channels had run interviews with him and had declared him a true hero. The more he denied having done anything special, the more they made a big deal out of it. The reporters he’d talked to had seemed genuinely confused when he’d told them he really just wanted to settle into civilian life and become a regular guy. He didn’t want to be a hero.

  He’d promised to call Megan as soon as he arrived home, but it had been almost a full two days before he’d actually spoken to her. The first thing he’d done when he came home was to contact the state police academy to confirm his appointment to take the cadet entry exam. He’d done his homework, and he knew he’d be a perfect fit for their special tactical unit. He just needed to pass the exam. Hell, just passing wouldn’t be good enough. He needed to ace the exam and then make a favorable impression during the interview.

  He’d planned this for nearly a year, ever since he’d made the decision to leave the military. He’d carried a study guide with him even when he’d been in Iraq, and he had spent every spare minute preparing for the exam. He was as ready as he would ever be. There would be hundreds of applicants but only a fraction would be admitted to the academy. He intended to be one of them. Then there would be the long, rigorous months of recruit training, when he’d be required to live at the academy, much like boot camp.

  He’d wanted to tell Megan about his plans, but had decided to wait until after the exam. He didn’t want her to know just how much he wanted this. If, for some reason, he didn’t get accepted into the academy, he didn’t want to see her disappointment. Didn’t want her to see his disappointment. And if he did pass the exam and get accepted, he’d surprise her and take her out for a special celebration.

  After he’d confirmed his schedule to take the exam, he’d had to face the publicity that his return had elicited. It seemed to him that half the town had turned out for his homecoming, and his parents’ house had been besieged by reporters and television crews eager to hear his story.

  They wanted to see his damaged helmet, proof of the bullet that should have killed him but had merely grazed his scalp. They wanted to hear about the attack on the convoy, and how he had risked his life to rescue the child. Over the course of two days, the media had been unrelenting in their siege of him, his family and his neighbors, wanting to know every detail of his experience in Iraq.

  What they didn’t want to hear, and what Matt wasn’t about to tell them, was how vulnerable he’d felt since he’d come home. He felt naked each time he went out in public without his weapon. Twice while driving, when other cars had come too close to his, he’d had to exercise every bit of physical restraint he had not to ram their vehicles. These weren’t insurgents with improvised explosive devices; they were merely distracted drivers.

  He wondered if the media would hail him as a hero if they knew he spent most of his nights standing at his bedroom window, scanning the surrounding trees for signs of the enemy, a habit he couldn’t seem to break. He’d wanted to come home, so why did he feel so out of place?

  He just wanted to spend some quality time with Megan. When he’d finally managed to reach her by phone, she’d sounded so prim and polite that he’d kept the conversation short. He didn’t blame her for being annoyed with him. He’d been home for more than two days and hadn’t called her; he knew women hated that shit. He’d make it up to her.

  As they drove toward Fort Devens in his pickup truck, he couldn’t help but steal glances at her beside him in the passenger seat. She’d pulled her honey-colored hair up into a loose knot, and tendrils escaped to tease her neck and cheeks. Looking over at him, she intercepted his gaze, and he watched as the tips of her ears turned pink.

  “Sorry,” he said with a grin. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

  “Keep your eyes on the road, big guy,” she chided, but smiled back at him, clearly pleased. “So how does it feel to be home? I mean, really home?”

  “Strange, actually. I haven’t lived in my parents’ house in a long time. I’m having trouble sleeping.”

  “Maybe that’s just the time change,” Megan suggested. “Or the fact that you’re not in your usual bed.”

  “You mean a hole dug into the dirt?” Matt glanced at her, wondering how much he should reveal. “I’ve been having nightmares.”

  “Considering what you’ve been through, that doesn’t surprise me. Do you want to talk about them?” she asked quietly.

  Matt’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. Did he want to talk about them? Hell, no. But maybe if he told her about the nightmares, the horror of them would fade a little bit.

  “I’m back in Iraq,” he finally said, “in the middle of that gunfight, and this time I don’t make it to the little girl in time.”

  Reaching across the seat, Megan covered his hand with hers. “But you did make it in time, Matt, and you saved her. I’m sure your nightmares are normal, considering what you’ve been through. You survived a traumatic event. Now you just need to let yourself recover.”

  Matt gave her a rueful smile. “You sound just like the shrink at Camp Pendleton.”

  “You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?” Her eyes were concerned and earnest. “Anything, Matt. I’m not squeamish, and I would never make any judgments about what you did. What you had to do.”

  Matt felt something shift in his chest, and he squeezed her fin
gers. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  “I know you’re good.” She smiled. “But I just want you to know that I’m here if you need me.”

  He nodded. “I do know, and it means a lot to me.”

  “The news reports said you had more than fifty confirmed…hits,” she said quietly. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you, knowing that every time you went out, it was a life-or-death situation.”

  Matt squinted hard at the road. Aside from his mandatory sessions with the military shrink, he’d never talked to anyone about what he did in Iraq. He didn’t miss the way Megan had hesitated before calling his confirmed kills hits.

  “The number of kills a sniper gets doesn’t really matter,” he finally said. “It’s not a game to see who can get the most kills. Like you said, it’s a life-or-death situation. You have to be able to think on your feet, weigh the different possibilities for a given situation and execute the best choice.”

  “I know that whatever decisions you made, they were the right ones,” Megan said with conviction.

  Glancing over at her, Matt realized that she was being completely sincere. She wasn’t just saying what she thought he wanted to hear. Her unconditional support was just one of the things about her that had captured his heart. He’d had girlfriends who couldn’t get past what he did for the military and who had been unable to commit for the long haul. Then there were the women who had only been interested in him because he was a sniper—groupies who got some kind of twisted thrill out of being with a guy they thought was dangerous.

  Then there was Megan. Sweet, sincere and oh, so sexy. He found everything about her irresistible. More importantly, he felt good when he was with her. Good about them as a couple, good about himself as a person. She deserved to know the truth about his decision to leave the military.

  “I was a sniper for six years,” he finally said. “But I’m not getting out of the military because I had a problem shooting insurgents.” He caught her gaze for a long second. I’m getting out because I had no problem—none whatsoever—in taking them out.”