He propped himself up on his elbows as he helped her pull his legs free from his pants. “Honey, do you have a condom?”
She froze. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“No. I…just want to protect you and the baby.”
He felt her sit down next to him on the bed, felt her touch his leg, her fingers trailing up from his calf to his knee to his thigh. “Most guys wouldn’t think past the fact that they couldn’t get me more pregnant than I already am.”
Her fingers did slow figure eights on his thigh. He reached for her, but she heard him start to move and backed away. He felt her fingers again, this time down near his ankle. He’d never realized that being touched on the ankle could be such a mind-blowing turn-on. He tried to moisten his dry lips. “Most guys wouldn’t have gotten totally paranoid by reading every book in the library on pregnancy.”
“Most guys wouldn’t have bothered.” She kissed him on the inside of his knee, her mouth soft and moist and cool against the fiery heat of his skin.
Cowboy reached for her again, but again, she wasn’t there. He had to move slowly, searching for her carefully in the pitch black. He didn’t want to knock her over with quick moves and flailing arms. Besides, he liked this game she was playing too damn much to want it to end.
But it was going to end. In just a handful of hours, the sun was going to creep above the horizon, and this night was going to end. And he was going to crawl out of Melody’s soft bed and walk out of her room, out of this house. He was going to pack up his tent and be gone. Game over.
It was ironic. The fact that there was an end in sight was quite possibly the only reason Melody was making love to him tonight. It was possible that it was only because he’d already told her that he wouldn’t stay that she could let herself have this time with him.
But with each kiss, each touch, each caress, he was wishing that he could keep this crazy game alive forever.
Forever.
She touched him again, and this time he was ready for her. His fingers closed around her arm and he gently pulled her up, finding her mouth with his, her body with his fingers, entangling their legs, the heaviness of his arousal against the roundness of her belly.
She moved languidly, lazily, kissing his neck, his ear, that delicate spot beneath his jaw that drove him crazy and made him want nothing more than to bury himself inside her forever.
Forever.
In the past, the word had scared him to death. It meant a deadly sameness, a permanent lack of change. It meant stagnation, boredom, a life of endless reruns, a slow fade from the brilliant colors of fresh new experiences to the washed-out gray of tired and old.
But Cowboy could be a SEAL forever without ever fearing he’d fall victim to that fate. Even if he ever got tired of parachuting out of jet planes, Joe Cat would have Alpha Squad doing HALO jumps—jumping out of planes at outrageously high altitudes, yet not opening the chute until they reached a ridiculously low altitude. And if he got tired of that—and he’d have to do one whole hell of a lot of ’em ever to be blasé about the adrenaline-inducing sensation of the ground rushing up to meet him—there was always Alpha Squad’s refresher courses in underwater demolition, or Arctic, desert and jungle survival, or…
The truth was, he could be a SEAL forever because he never knew what was coming next.
Cowboy had always thought he’d feel the same about women. How could he possibly agree to spend the rest of his life with only one, when he never knew for certain who might be walking into his life at any given moment? How could he survive the endless stagnation of commitment even as temptation walked toward him every time he turned a corner?
But as he lost himself in the sweetness of Melody’s kisses, he found himself wondering instead how he could possibly survive the constant disappointment of searching for her face in a crowd—despite the fact that he knew damn well she was two thousand miles away. How could he survive turning corner after corner, coming face-to-face with beautiful women, women who wanted to be with him—women he wanted nothing to do with, women whose only real faults were that they weren’t Melody?
She pulled away from him slightly, opening herself to his hand, lifting her hips to push his fingers more deeply inside her. Her own fingers trailed down his side, moving across his stomach, almost but not quite touching him.
“You’re driving me insane,” he breathed.
“I know.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“I want you so badly, honey, but I’m terrified I’ll hurt you.” His own voice was hoarse.
She pulled back. “Do you mind if I get on top of you?”
Mind? Did she actually think he would mind? But then he realized that she was laughing at his stunned silence.
“But first…” She touched him, and his mind exploded with white-hot pleasure as she kissed him most intimately. “Do you think if I keep doing this while calling you Harlan,” she wondered, “you’ll learn to associate positive emotions with the use of your first name?”
Cowboy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Harlan,” she said. “Harlan. Harlan. Harlan. You know, I never really thought about it before, but I like that name.”
He could barely speak. “I like it, too.”
Melody laughed. “Wow, that was easy. I think I may have just developed a powerful brainwashing technique. Better not let any enemies of the U.S.A. get their hands—so to speak—on this, or we’ll all be in trouble.”
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t work with anyone else but you.”
Melody was quiet for a moment. “Well, that was really sweet,” she said. He could tell from her voice that she didn’t believe him.
He pushed himself up on one elbow. “Melody, I’m serious.”
She pushed him back down, straddling his thighs. “Let’s not argue about this now,” she told him, reaching for something. He heard the sound of a drawer opening, and then she moved back. “Let’s just…pretend that we might’ve been able to make this thing between us work.”
“But—”
“Please?” He felt her touch him, covering him with a condom.
“Mel, dammit, if you could look into my eyes—”
“Hush up and kiss me, Jones.”
It was an order he couldn’t refuse. And when she shifted herself forward, and in one smooth, languorous motion, surrounded him with her tight heat, he couldn’t do more than groan her name.
He wanted more. He wanted to thrust deeply inside her. He wanted to flip her onto her back and rock her, hard and fast, the way he knew she liked it. He wanted to turn on the light and gaze into her eyes. He wanted to watch her release, see the incredibly sexy look on her beautiful face as he took her higher than she’d ever been before.
Instead, he lay on his back. “Mel, I’m afraid to move.” His voice was a paper-dry whisper in the darkness.
“Then I’ll move,” she whispered back, doing just that.
The sensation was off the charts. Cowboy clenched his teeth to keep from raising his hips to meet her. It was possible that he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. Not in the bathroom of the 747. Not in Paris. Not anywhere.
“But I want—”
She pushed herself a little bit farther onto him, and he heard himself groan. “Come on,” she urged him, “I promise I won’t let you hurt me. I promise there are pregnant women everywhere around the world, making love just like this, right this very minute….”
Her long, slow movements brought him almost entirely out of her before he glided deeply back in.
And it was then, as Cowboy pushed himself up to meet her in this, the sweetest of dances, that he knew the truth at last.
He wanted to come home to this woman every night for the rest of his life.
He wanted forever, and he knew that that forever with Melody would be as fascinating and endlessly exciting as his future with the SEALs, because, bottom line—he loved her.
He loved her.
And he knew right at that m
oment that in Paris, when Melody had kissed him goodbye and told him not to write, not to call, not to see her anymore, she’d been both very, very wrong and very, very right. She had been wrong in not giving them a chance to be together. She had been wrong not to let their passion deepen. But she had been right when she’d told him that real love was so much more than the hot flood of lust and relief. Because while his feelings for her had been born of danger and attraction and the powerful rush of being trusted and needed so desperately, it wasn’t until he was here, in everyday, average Appleton, U.S.A., that those feelings had truly started to grow.
He loved her, but not because she needed him. In fact, one of the reasons he loved her so very much was because she refused to need him.
He loved her laughter, her point-blank honesty, her gentle kindness. He loved the faraway look she would get in her eyes when she felt their baby kick. He loved the fierceness with which she supported her sister. He loved the sheer courage it must have taken for her to stand up in front of the conservative Ladies’ Club of Appleton to announce her pregnancy. He loved sitting on her back porch and talking to her.
He loved the heavenly blue of her eyes and the sweetness of her smile.
And he especially loved making love to her.
“Oh, Harlan,” she breathed as he felt her release, and he knew without a single doubt that he would indeed forever associate sheer pleasure with his name.
He’d been clinging rather desperately to the edge of the cliff that controlled his own release, and as Melody gripped him tighter, as he filled his hands with her breasts, he felt himself go into free fall, felt the dizzying, weightless drop.
And then he exploded in slow motion. Fireballs of pleasure rocketed through him, scorching him, making him cry out.
Melody kissed him, and the sweetness of her mouth took him even further.
And then, with Melody’s hands in his hair, with her head on his shoulder, with their unborn child resting between them, Cowboy began his ascent back to the surface of reality.
He was leaving in the morning. She didn’t want to marry him, didn’t need him, didn’t love him. There were no decompression stops, although he wasn’t sure it would have mattered either way. There wasn’t anything he could have done to protect himself from the painful truth.
As much as he wanted her, she’d be happier without him.
Melody rolled off him, then snuggled next to him, drawing up the covers. “Please hold me,” she murmured.
Lt. Harlan Jones pulled her in close, fitting their bodies together like spoons.
He would hold her tonight. But tomorrow, he would let her go. He knew he could do it. He’d done impossibly difficult things before.
He was a U.S. Navy SEAL.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ALPHA SQUAD WAS back in Virginia. Someone at the base apparently disapproved of the SEALs’ disagreement with FinCOM, because the Quonset hut to which they’d been reassigned was several very healthy steps down from the first one they’d been given. And that had been no palace.
As Cowboy went inside, the door creaked on rusty hinges and a spider damn near landed on his head. He could see daylight through part of the corrugated-metal roof.
Whatever top brass had placed them here hadn’t simply disapproved of their disagreement with FinCOM—he no doubt disapproved of SEALs in general. But that was no big surprise. This wasn’t the first time they’d run into narrow-minded thinking.
Wes was on the phone. “Computers and rain don’t mix, sir,” he was saying. His tone implied that sir was merely a substitution for another, far less flattering word. “We have close to half a dozen computers we need up and running, plus a series of holes in the roof that will not only make it very chilly, but, when it starts to rain—which according to the forecast will happen within the next few hours—will make it very wet in here. As a matter of fact, there are already several permanent-looking puddles on the floor. Sir.”
Built during World War II, this place looked as if it hadn’t been used since the Vietnam conflict.
“We’ve been waiting on that request for a week, sir. Meanwhile, our computers are still in their boxes and we’re sitting here with our thumbs up our—”
Joe Cat and Blue were on the other side of the gloomy room, deep in discussion. “Well, yippee-yi-oh-kai-ay! Look who’s back!” Cowboy looked up to see Lucky O’Donlon grinning down at him through the biggest hole in the roof.
Harvard was up there, too. “Get your butt up here, Junior. Aren’t you some kind of expert when it comes to fixing roofs?”
“No—”
“Well, you are now. You’re always claiming that with a little time and a library, you can learn to do anything. Here’s your chance to prove it. And if that’s not a compelling enough reason, how about this? As last man back from leave, you’ve won yourself the honor.”
“Jones. Welcome back.”
Cowboy turned to see Joe Cat coming toward him. He shook his captain’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”
Wes hung up the phone with a crash. “No go, Skipper. Apparently, there’s no other location for us on the entire base.”
Bobby joined them, bristling. “This place is huge. That’s a load of—”
“Hey, I’m just saying what they told me.” Wes shrugged. “We can request repairs, but it’s got to go through channels and you know what that means. We’ll still be able to stargaze from our desks three weeks from now.”
“I say we forget about channels and fix this place ourselves,” Lucky called down from his perch on the roof.
“I’m for that, too, Cat,” Harvard chimed in. “We can get the job done better in a fraction of the time.”
Cowboy squinted up at the roof. “Can we patch it, or will we have to replace the whole damn thing?” This was good. He could get into the distraction of creative problem solving. It would take his mind off the woman he’d left behind in Appleton, Massachusetts.
Melody hadn’t thrown herself at his feet and begged him not to go. She’d only taken a few minutes away from the frantic housecleaning she was helping Brittany do in anticipation of a visit from Social Services. Britt’s request to adopt Andy Marshall was actually being considered. Melody had been so focused on Britt’s need to make everything as perfect as possible, she’d barely noticed when he left.
She’d kissed him goodbye and told him to be careful. And then she’d gone back to work.
Cowboy had passed a billboard advertising Ted Shepherd’s candidacy for state representative on his way out of town. The man’s pasty face, enlarged to a giant size, made him feel sick with jealousy. He’d had to look away, unable to gaze into the man’s average brown eyes, unable to deal with the thought that this could well be the man Melody would spend her life with. This could be the man who would raise Cowboy’s child as his own.
If he’d had a grenade launcher in his luggage, he would have blown the damn billboard to bits.
“Jones, I understand congratulations are in order.” Joe Cat slapped Cowboy’s back, bringing him abruptly back to the present. “When’s the big day?” The big…?
“Yeah, you gonna invite us to the wedding?” Lucky asked. “Damn, I feel like singing a verse of ‘Sunrise, Sunset.’ I can’t believe our little Cowboy is actually old enough to tie the knot.”
“You want us to wear dress whites, or should we cammy up?” Wes asked. “Dress whites are more traditional, but the camouflage gear would probably go better with the shotgun accessories.”
Beside him, Bobby broke into a chorus of “Love Child.”
Cowboy shook his head. “You guys are wrong—”
“Yeah, you know, that’s probably the only way I’m going to go,” Lucky said. “Trapped in the corner with no way out.”
“Yo, Diana Ross,” Harvard called from the roof. “S-squared.”
Bobby obediently sat down and shut up.
“The rest of you guys back off,” Harvard continued. “Junior’s doing the right thing here. Maybe if you pay attention, you
might actually learn something from his fine example.”
Cowboy looked up at Harvard through the hole in the roof. “But I’m not marrying her, H.” He looked around at the other guys. “I’m going to be a father in a few weeks, but I’m not getting married.”
Blue McCoy, a man of few words, was the first to break the silence. He looked around at the rest of Alpha Squad. “This just goes to show we should learn to mind our own business.” He turned to Cowboy. “I’m sorry, Jones,” he said quietly.
But Wes couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Sorry?” he squeaked. “How could you be sorry? Jones’s luck is rocketing off the scale. In fact, the way I see it, O’Donlon’s just lost the right to his nickname. From now on, I’m calling Jones Lucky.”
Cowboy shook his head, unable to respond, unable even to force a smile. By all rights, he should have been agreeing with them and celebrating his freedom, but instead he felt as if part of him would never feel like celebrating again. “I’m gonna go check out this roof,” he told Joe Cat.
The captain had a way of looking at a man that made him feel as if he could see clear through all the bull and camouflage to the heart and soul that lay beneath. He was looking at Cowboy that way right now.
“I’m sorry, too, kid,” he said before nodding and dismissing him.
Cowboy escaped out the door, searching for the easiest way up to the curving metal roof. There was a drainpipe on the southwest corner of the building that looked pretty solid. In fact, as he approached, Lucky was using it to climb down.
“Kudos to you, Jones,” he said, wiping the remnants of rust from his hands onto his pants. “How about getting together tonight over a cold beer? You could share the secrets of your success.” His smile turned knowing. “I remember that girl, Melody. She was something else. And she was on top of you like a dog in heat right from the word go, wasn’t she?”
Something inside Cowboy snapped, and snapped hard. He knocked Lucky down into the dust. “Just shut the hell up!”
Lucky was instantly on his feet, crouched and ready in a combat stance. “What the—”
Tall, Dark and Dangerous Vol 1: Tall, Dark and FearlessTall, Dark and Devastating Page 99
