Lip Service

by Susan Mallery

  “Thank you,” he said, standing next to Bullet and patting the horse’s neck.

  “You’re welcome. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  He nodded.

  She walked back toward her car. When she was nearly there, he called, “Wait.”

  She looked at him.

  “Can you come with me?”

  “Of course. I’ll clear the day.”

  “I won’t be good company. I’ll probably act like a jerk.”

  “You do have practice.”

  One corner of his mouth twitched. “Nice. Potshots at the cripple.”

  “I do what I can.” She opened her car door. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I wish there was something magic I could say to make it all better.”

  “Me, too.”

  THE RICH REALLY were different, Mitch thought as he moved down the steps of the private plane Skye had arranged for their flight to Phoenix. A black Town Car waited on the tarmac of the private airport. She joined him in the back of the car.

  “You doing all right?” she asked.

  “Nice car.”

  “I thought it would be easier to have someone else do the driving.” She looked at him. “You don’t want to tell me if you’re okay?”

  “I don’t want to talk about my feelings.” They were too close to the surface. The funeral was going to be hard enough to get through as it was.

  “I understand,” she said and touched his arm.

  She’d dressed in a black suit and pulled her hair back. She looked dignified and serious. Did dealing with this make her remember Ray’s death?

  For the first time since he’d heard the news about Pete, he allowed himself to think about what she’d said to him. That while Ray would always matter, she’d never stopped loving him.

  Was it true? Did he want it to be true? Could he trust her?

  Not the time or place, he told himself, but he was glad she was with him.

  She put her hand in his. “If you need to yell or fight,” she said quietly, “just let me know. I’ll argue or be annoying. I’m good at both.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  They arrived at the church. Skye got out of the car, then waited for Mitch to join her. He took so long, she wondered if he’d changed his mind. Then he climbed out and stood on the sidewalk, looking as if someone had shot him.

  There were well over a hundred people outside the church. Mitch stayed close as he introduced her to a few people he knew. They were all men, SEALs she would guess. Strong and confident, they moved easily through the crowd. But there was a restlessness about them—as though if they stopped moving they would have to deal with the loss of one of their own.

  The service was difficult to get through, Skye thought two hours later, and she’d never known Pete. Several people had told moving stories about what he’d been like as a young man. Mitch talked about how Pete had saved him. He glossed over what must have been a terrifying and dangerous situation, instead focusing on how Pete was a funny, easygoing man who didn’t believe he was a hero. Sort of like Mitch himself.

  Once they went to the graveside, they stood through a military burial. At the end, an obviously pregnant widow came up and spoke to Mitch. Skye didn’t hear what she was saying, but it was enough for Mitch to tightly hug her, then turn to Skye and say they had to leave.

  He was quiet on the drive back to the airport. Once they’d cleared Phoenix airspace on their way back to Dallas, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

  “It should have been me,” he said quietly. “I should have been the one to die. Not Pete.”

  “You weren’t even there,” she told him. “How could you have taken his place?”

  “I don’t know, but this is wrong. He’s a good guy.”

  “From what I learned about him today, he wouldn’t want anyone to take his place. That wasn’t his way. He died in a firefight, doing something he believed in. Am I wrong?”

  Mitch didn’t look at her. “It should have been me. He’s got a kid he’ll never see. A wife. A family.”

  Skye wanted to tell Mitch he could have all those things, too. It hurt so much to see him this way, to feel his pain, and not be able to do anything to help.

  “You’re the one who’s here,” she murmured. “Wouldn’t Pete tell you not to waste the opportunity?”

  “Maybe.”

  She wanted to push but didn’t. Later they would talk, but for now she forced herself to stay quiet.

  They’d driven together in his truck. When they reached Glory’s Gate, she leaned over and turned off the engine.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Erin’s spending the night with Lexi and Cruz. My dad is gone. Come inside.”

  He hesitated. “I won’t be very good company.”

  “We’re not going to talk.”

  She thought he might refuse. That he would wait until she got out of the truck, then drive away. But he didn’t. He collected the keys and followed her inside.

  She led the way upstairs, to her bedroom and closed the door behind him.

  Once there, she stepped close and put her hands on his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, then pressed her lips to his.

  He reacted instantly, grabbing her around the waist, holding on as if he would never let go. His mouth claimed hers, demanding, taking, then suddenly gentling to barely a whisper of contact. He kissed her over and over again, tender kisses that offered every part of him.

  Surrender wasn’t necessary—she’d given herself to him the first time they’d made love nine years ago and there was a part of her she’d never reclaimed. It came to life now, burning for him, but also feeling, embracing, wanting more than just the passion that always flared between them. She wanted the connection.

  He ran his hands up and down her back, then pushed off her suit jacket. It fell to the floor. He licked her lower lip. She parted for him and he swept inside.

  Their tongues played a game of tag, teasing, dancing, before the need began to grow. She tilted her head. He deepened the kiss. She pushed off his jacket. It was the first time she’d ever seen him wear a suit and he’d looked good. But right now she wanted to touch bare skin, be close to him. Make love.

  He stroked her face then moved his fingers into her hair. One by one, he pulled the pins free until her hair tumbled down her back. He buried his fingers in the soft curls.

  She worked on his tie, first loosening it, then tugging it until she could let it drop to the floor. He unzipped her skirt and it puddled around her feet.

  She stepped out of her pumps. He moved down her back to her butt, where he grabbed her and squeezed. She shifted toward him, bringing her belly in contact with his arousal.

  He was already hard. She rubbed against him, wanting to feel his erection, wanting to know he wanted this, too. She was already wet and hungry.

  He slid his hands under her blouse, up to her breasts. There he made quick work of the front closure on her bra. He pushed the cups aside and cupped her curves in his big hands.

  He continued to kiss her. His warm fingers stroking her skin made it difficult to think. When he brushed her nipples with his thumbs, fire shot through her. She wanted to cry out, but contented herself with a soft moan, then closed her mouth around his tongue and sucked. He tensed. Then he backed her toward the bed.

  When her thighs bumped the mattress, she lost her balance and abruptly sat. He unfastened the buttons and shrugged out of his shirt, then reached for his belt buckle, only to pause. His eyes locked with hers.

  She didn’t have to ask what was wrong—she knew. Just like she knew his hesitation had as much to do with him as with her.

  They’d had sex twice before. It had been hot and fast and possibly safer for him because they’d never undressed. She’d never actually seen him naked since his return. She’d never had to deal with his amputation directly and he’d never had to deal with her reaction.

  Without saying anything, while still holding his gaz
e, she pushed him back a step so she could stand. She pulled off her blouse and let her bra fall to the ground. Then she stepped out of her black panties. When she was completely naked, she took his hand and guided it to between her thighs.

  “I want you,” she whispered, moaning as he explored her swollen center.

  He rubbed all over, sliding against that one spot of pleasure before thrusting a finger inside of her. She grabbed onto his shoulders to keep herself from falling. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  He moved in and out, filling her, then leaving her empty and wanting. Her insides tightened around him, trying to get more. There was something about the way he touched her—it had never taken much to get her over the top.

  “Skye,” he whispered, as he withdrew his hand. “We have to talk.”

  She did her best not to whimper that talking wasn’t what she needed right now.

  She put her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him. “So talk.”

  “I’m having trouble concentrating. You’re naked.”

  She smiled. “I know. I want you to be comfortable.”

  He glanced down at his erection. “Comfortable isn’t the word I’d use.” He returned his gaze to her face. “It’s not horrible, but it’s a shock.”

  “I’m pretty clear on what to expect.” She’d been doing some reading online. She’d seen pictures. None of which had been Mitch, but she was reasonably confident she could manage without reacting.

  “I want to be inside of you. I want to be on top.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure how to make that work.”

  Why would he have a problem being…

  Leverage, she thought, answering her own question. Everything would be different. He couldn’t brace himself the same way.

  “Then we’ll just have to practice and practice until we get it right,” she said with a smile. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make because that’s just the kind of person I am.”

  He didn’t return her smile. She read the worry in his eyes and wished she knew how to make him feel better. Probably the only way to reassure him was to go through the experience.

  She stepped aside and urged him to sit. Then she knelt on the carpet and removed both his shoes and socks. Underneath the left sock was the smooth plastic of his artificial foot.

  Unexpected sadness flooded her. Sadness for what he’d been through and what he’d lost. He wasn’t alone in that. Hundreds of others had suffered the same way.

  But thinking about that wasn’t helping. She had to focus on Mitch, on being with him, on letting him know that she loved all of him.

  She straightened, then reached for his belt, but before she could touch it, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. He buried his face between her breasts and groaned, then turned his head and drew her right nipple into his mouth.

  The sweet tugging caused her insides to clench. She held on to him and lost herself in the sensation. Then his fingers were between her legs, searching, finding, rubbing, thrusting. He used his thumb to caress her center while moving his fingers in and out of her.

  She tightened her muscles as the need washed over her. She was already close and getting closer by the second. Her orgasm was just out of reach. A few more seconds and she would be there.

  She cupped his head and ran her fingers through his hair as he moved from breast to breast. Almost, she thought desperately. Almost. Then she would—

  She pulled herself away. It was agony as her body whimpered in protest.

  “You’re trying to distract me,” she said, barely able to see straight.

  He shrugged. “Maybe a little. You’re also naked, Skye. What am I supposed to do? Ignore that?”

  She unfastened his belt. “No. You’re supposed to join me.”

  He pushed her hands away and stood. His suit slacks fell. She didn’t look away from his eyes.

  “Almost,” she teased. “I’m talking naked, cowboy.”

  “You have to look.”

  For her or for him? Did it matter?

  He sat back on the bed and tossed away his slacks. She sat next to him and looked down at the prosthesis, then he removed it and slid off the protective sock.

  It was wrong, she thought sadly, staring at the place where his calf had once been. There was nothing there. Just a smooth curve of skin and a few fading scars.

  “I thought it would be more dramatic,” she said without thinking.

  “Meaning?”

  “At least some background music and a drumroll.”

  He stared at her. For a second she thought he was going to get pissed off. Instead he started to laugh. When she joined in, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her onto the mattress. Then he was on top of her and they were kissing and nothing else mattered.

  He claimed her mouth with a desperation that left her breathless. His hands roamed her body, finding all the places that made her squirm. Well, all the places but one. No matter how she flexed her hips and silently willed him to touch her there, he ignored that place between her legs.

  He moved lower, kissing her neck, then her breasts. He licked his way down her belly.

  She knew where this was going, what he would do, and nearly screamed for him to hurry. Hunger burned inside of her. She’d already been close once—it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge.

  Finally he moved between her thighs, parted her and then kissed her intimately. He used his lips and tongue to arouse her to the point of mindlessness, licking and sucking until she wanted to scream. At the same time he slipped a finger inside of her.

  The combination was too much, she thought as her body tensed. She pushed toward him, wanting more, wanting all of it. There was a moment of certainty, a promise, then she was coming and shuddering, calling out his name, begging him never to stop.

  He continued to touch her until she stilled, then he rolled away. Seconds later he was back, kneeling between her legs. She reached for him to guide him inside of her. As his thick hardness filled her, nerve endings began to dance.

  It was perfect, she thought as she stared into his eyes. He fit her as if he’d been made for her—stretching her just enough, finding exactly the right, delicious spot when he thrust in all the way.

  They quickly created their perfect rhythm. Their gazes locked. She felt herself getting closer again, but was determined to hold back until he was falling, too.

  Familiar tension filled her. The need was there, pushing her onward. She found herself trying to think about other things, which made her want to laugh.

  “What?” he asked, still moving in and out of her.

  “I’m waiting for you.”

  He grinned. “I’m enjoying the moment. It’s easy. I didn’t know it would be easy.”

  What was he talking about?

  Then she remembered. His leg. He’d been worried. She’d been concerned. But they were making love and it was exactly as it had always been. Perfect.

  “Take your time,” she told him, grabbing onto her self-control, determined to wait for him.

  “You’re really close?” he asked.

  “Mitch, are you torturing me on purpose?”

  “Uh-huh.” His breath caught. “You ready?”

  “I’ve moved on to desperate.”

  “That sounds bad. You can let go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He pushed in deeper and groaned. “I’m sure.”

  She felt the muscles in his back flex. She surrendered to her release and they lost themselves in each other.

  SKYE WOKE UP alone in her bed the next morning, but she was okay with that. Being with Mitch the previous night had been like a renewal. They’d connected on a level she hadn’t thought possible. While they hadn’t talked about the future, she knew he was going to give her a chance. It had taken nine years and a lot of miles, but they were finally where they belonged.

  She showered and dressed. It was Saturday and Erin would sleep in a little. Later she had a birthday party with one of her friends. Maybe Sk
ye could sneak over and see Mitch again.

  She hummed as she made her way downstairs. Everything was going to work out. She’d finally gotten her life together. All they had to do was get Izzy well and find a way to beat Garth. Then everything would be perfect.

  “Not too much to ask,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

  Her father was already there.

  “Dad. You’re home.”

  Jed sipped his coffee. “I still live here.”

  “You haven’t been around much.” Although it was the weekend and relatively early in the morning, he wore a suit, as if he had a business meeting.

  “I’ve been busy,” he said. “There’s a lot going on. How’s your sister?”

  “Doing better. I know she’d like you to go see her.”

  “I hate hospitals. I’ll see her when she gets home.”

  Skye glared at him. “She survived an explosion. You should make the time.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. I don’t have time for distractions. A guy named Jack is going to call you later and ask you out. I want you to say yes.”

  She had reached for the coffeepot. Now she dropped her hand to her side and stared at him. “What?”

  “You heard me. He’s successful, which matters to me. I’ve heard people say he’s handsome, which will matter to you.”

  “No,” she said, too shocked to move.

  “You’ll go on a date, see how things go.”

  “Did you hear me? I said no.”

  Sunlight poured into the kitchen. Jed sipped his coffee again. “Do you think I care what you said?”

  She stiffened. “You’d better. I’m not doing this again. I married Ray. He was a good man and I’m grateful for Erin, but I shouldn’t have listened to you. I lost myself when I did that and it’s taken me all this time to find my way back.”

  “That’s a bunch of crap. Jesus, why do you have to be so emotional? This is business, Skye. You’re going to do what I tell you because you like living here. You like the lifestyle. You gave away so much of your money to that idiotic foundation that you don’t have much left. So you don’t have a choice. This is a bad time for me and you’re going to do what I tell you.”