ServicesRendered

by Diana Hunter

  John leaned against the cushions. “Like you, I wanted to be in the service ever since I was a kid. My dad had been Army, my grandfather Navy. I had to keep up the tradition of rebellion, so…I became a Marine.”

  Lauren smiled and also leaned back. John understood. She relaxed only when they weren’t talking about her. That was fine with him. There were some things she should probably know about him. And maybe, knowing his past, she’d realize she couldn’t outrun her own.

  “But I didn’t just want to be a grunt. Wanted to be an officer and command men in battle. So I went to the Citadel in Charleston, South Carolina.”

  Lauren gave a low whistle. “Must’ve been tough for a Yankee down there.”

  “You’ve no idea. But I wasn’t going to let any Southern boys think they could win the War Between the States by pushing around this Yankee boy. I knew I’d be in for a tough time and graduated well and with the respect of many of those ‘rebels’.”

  “So you were planning to be career Marine the way I planned to make a career out of patching up you guys.”

  He knew she tried to keep her tone light, but John heard the underlying accusation.

  “That pretty much sums it up. Of course, the goal in battle is not to get hurt and a good leader knows that. A great leader is the one whose men come home.”

  “And which were you?”

  The softness of her voice belied the hardness of the question. “I was only good at first,” he answered. With a sigh, he ticked off the names. “Mortimer, Jones, Wizard, Pitbull. Four men killed in the first offensive I led. Three of them were killed when they stepped on a mine. But the fourth, Pitbull, he was hit by a mortar round. Not a lot of damage to his legs, but a lot of bleeding. I knew first aid, but didn’t know enough. I couldn’t save him.”

  Lauren could hear the pain in his admission. She put a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  He smiled wryly. He took her hand and the look he gave her remained steady. “I know. I came to terms with it by determining it would never happen again. I started hanging around the medics in my free time, getting them to teach me the tricks of their trade.”

  “Didn’t you have a medic with you in your unit in that first battle?”

  “Mortimer.”

  One of the first ones killed. She nodded. “So you learned to be the backup medic.”

  “It should be part of every officer’s training. I lobbied for that when I got stateside again but the wheels of the military turn slowly.”

  Lauren made a sound of understanding and he turned the conversation back to her. “So I have some experience with…coming home from that.”

  “I see that you do.” Some of the tension had gone from her shoulders but John knew one conversation wouldn’t be enough to erase the deep cuts her memories made in her soul.

  “Thank you, John. It actually does help. Your knowing what it’s like.”

  He still held her hand and now brought it to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss. Her voice remained soft. “We both had rough times and we both survived them. I’m almost glad your friend Chuck broke his leg just so we could meet and survive together for a while.”

  That got a chuckle and the seriousness of their talk was broken. John stood, pulling Lauren up and sweeping her into his arms. He leaned in as if to kiss her, instead whirling her around into a two-step to the quick tempo of the music. Laughing, she let him lead her through several steps before the music ended and the song switched to a slower beat.

  Except he didn’t let her go. Still dancing, he held her lightly, his hands guiding her around his living room.

  Lauren sighed and leaned against his shoulder, liking how they fit together. She’d told him the truth when she admitted that their talking about their pasts helped. The Army psychologists understood as well, but their offices tended to be cold, inhospitable places for her psyche. Here in the warmth of John’s living room, she felt as if he’d created an enclave of safety just for her. She sighed again, feeling the load on her shoulders lighten considerably.

  “I hope those sighs are of contentment…”

  She turned her face up to him, smiling from the heart for the first time all evening. “Very much so. Thank you. You make me feel…”

  “Feel?” he prompted when her voice trailed off.

  “Safe.” She snuggled in closer, knowing full well what that admission might cost her and deciding it would be worth the price.

  “Excellent. Now that I’ve lulled you into a false sense of security, I can proceed with my nefarious plans.”

  Chuckling, she pulled away. “And what nefarious plans are those?”

  “Why, to tie you up and make love to you all night long.” He dropped his voice. “Or did you forget?”

  Lauren’s heart jumped right into her throat. After a moment, she shook her head and managed to get the words out. “I didn’t forget. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all week long.”

  “I’d still like to, you know.”

  “I haven’t frightened you off with my tales of woe?” She tried to keep her voice light, only a slight waver giving away her nervousness. Lauren wanted this, she wanted him. Desperately.

  “Lauren,” John stopped dancing altogether, keeping her in his arms. She tried not to tremble, to show how close he stood to her vulnerability. A false step and the walls around her psyche would harden into concrete, keeping him out, and she didn’t want that. She wanted, needed, for him to like her in spite of all her problems, her stresses, her frailties.

  John bent his head toward hers and she barely breathed. His lips brushed against hers and she closed her eyes and leaned in. When he deepened it, she opened for him, gave herself over to him, her arms reaching up to encircle his neck and hold on. How many months had she held herself together? How long had she kept it all inside, insisting that she could handle everything herself? That she didn’t need anyone else in her life telling her what to do or how to do it? That she’d had enough of taking orders—and enough of giving them?

  The kiss ended and John looked at her. Lauren sighed and considered, wanted nothing more than to rest easy in this man’s arms. To let him deal with the problems of the world while she just went along for the ride. She smiled, nodded her permission and John scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing.

  She squealed and laughed as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom, all ghosts of the past temporarily banished. He paused only long enough to flip a switch beside the bedroom door, turning on a small, bedside lamp, and she caught only a glimpse of the double bed and of a dark wood nightstand before he laid her down gently on the mattress, his hand coming up to hold her face as he kissed her again.

  Lauren felt the strength of his muscles under his shirt as he bent over her. Muscles that could crush her if he wanted. Suddenly she longed to feel those muscles, the smooth flesh rippling under her fingers. Living in the present made her feel far more alive than dealing with the past. His shoulders, his arms, she wanted to explore every inch of him. She moved under him, a small whimper of desire escaping from the back of her throat, telling him she wanted more.

  “You are a very sexy woman, do you know that?” he murmured in her ear, his breath barely moving her hair.

  “It’s you who make me feel sexy.” Lauren drew him down into another kiss, deciding Beth was right. She did need this.

  His hand slid under her skirt to cup her nearly naked rear end. She didn’t often wear thongs, yet for tonight the little scrap of fabric had been a good choice. Especially since the warmth of his hand created an answering warmth in all the places he touched.

  “I will explore every inch of you and give you pleasure many times over. I promise you that.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she warned.

  For answer, he kissed her again. Not gently, this time, but with a force calculated to show her just how much he intended to give her. His tongue pressed at her lips and she opened to him, feeling him invade her mouth as she kn
ew he would invade other parts of her.

  Oh yeah. She wanted this more than anything else in the world right now. Her arms held him tightly, afraid if she let go she might lose herself as he plundered her mouth. Her heart pounded and her pussy opened as the true extent of what he could to do her became evident.

  And still she urged him on. When he broke the kiss, her head swam. Damn, but he was good.

  John had been sitting on the bed beside her. Now he stood, pulling off his shirt in one quick motion.

  Lauren had seen John’s naked torso before, a week ago at the encampment when he’d changed out of his bloody shirt. She hadn’t been meant to see him then, yet the image had stuck with her.

  Yet now, in the glimmer of the bedside lamp, up close and towering over her, the previous image paled in comparison to the magnificent reality before her. His smooth skin, just dusted with fine hairs, stretched beautifully over muscles honed in more than just the weight room. For a moment, she thought of how effortlessly he’d worked last Sunday, holding a man’s life in his hands as now he held her attention.

  Except John pulled a scarf off the back of the door beside him and all thoughts fled but one. He really meant it. He would tie her up and make love to her all night long.

  “Sit up and hold out your wrist.”

  Lauren smiled demurely at the command in his voice. She swung her legs to the side and did as he instructed, tugging her dress down where he’d pushed it up. Deftly John looped the teal-blue silk scarf over her wrist, tying it loosely enough so that it slid along her forearm, but with an opening too small to fit over the palm of her hand.

  With a flourish worthy of a prestidigitator, he pulled a second teal scarf from behind him and quickly tied it to her other wrist. Peeking over his shoulder, Lauren saw another set of scarves on the floor, all apparently pulled from the back of the door at the same time. She laughed to see through his trick.

  “Ah, the lady laughs now but soon she will groan in ecstasy!”

  He’d pulled her ankle to him, slipping off her sandal and tying the scarf in the same manner. Lauren lifted her arms and swayed the fabric before her, lifting a corner of one scarf and covering the lower half of her face with it. “The lady, cloaked in mystery. How will the sultan have his way with the lovely harem girl, and she still clothed?”

  John pulled the knot tight on the fourth and final scarf. Without a beat’s hesitation, he knelt up, his hands behind her back, her dress unzipped a second later. “Such mysteries are easily solved, harem girl.” His hands on her arms pulled her to standing as he stood as well. Another second later and her dress lay in a pool at her feet. “Kiss me,” he urged as he bent to take her in his arms.

  “Gladly,” Lauren whispered, her arms coming up around his neck as their lips touched. She felt him unclasp her bra and shifted to give him access to her breasts. He obliged, one hand sliding forward to cup her breast in warmth while the other steadied her as he lowered her to the bed.

  Chapter Eight

  The scarves floated gracefully, wafting a gentle perfume of jasmine as Lauren waved her hands above John’s back. The ends trailed along his skin, tickling and making him smile. He liked seeing the tease in her come out. Her eyes glimmered with mischief in the dim light and John thought of her as a gemstone of many facets. He’d seen her professional side on the field last week, been subject to her repartee as she fenced away his questions, watched in concern as she flashed back to her wartime experience and then held her hand as she let down her guard a little to confide in him.

  Now, as she sat on his bed wearing nothing but a thong, an unclasped bra and the scarves he’d tied around her ankles and wrists, she showed another facet. That of the playful minx. She would not give up her freedom easily. Instead she played with him, teasing him along with her harem-girl antics. He grinned, glad she was a worthy adversary.

  Lauren pulled one of the scarves along his shoulder, and with difficulty, John ignored it, turning the tables on her by running his finger over her breasts, just above the bra that still partially covered them. She smiled seductively, letting her hand fall to drape the see-through scarf over his hand, obscuring his vision of her breasts.

  Undeterred, he took the center of her bra in his fingers and pulled. Slowly, maddeningly slowly, he brought it down her belly, the straps sliding along her arms. When one became caught on her elbow, she wiggled it free while John continued to remove the garment. It came free of her hands and he took a moment to untangle it from the scarves. Lauren used that moment to again drape the silk over her breasts.

  Even though the room’s temperature reflected the summer heat, John could see the twin bumps under the silk that showed how much she enjoyed this play. His cock, already stirring, responded more strongly to the sight and John eased himself forward, wanting a better look and a more comfortable position.

  Lauren pulled the silk from her breasts. He couldn’t resist. Bending farther, his lips encircled her nipple in a tender kiss. She tasted sweet, like nectar sucked from a flower and he wanted more. Gently biting her nipple, he made sure all her attention centered on her breasts while he took her hand and raised it over her head, ostensibly to get better access. While she was thus occupied, he looped the silk over the bedpost knob and tied it securely. Only then did he once again stand.

  Her eyes, soft with seduction, watched as he unzipped his jeans and slid them to the floor. He’d worn no socks with his loafers, which he simply kicked off and left under the bed. Catching her gaze with his, he sat beside her, trailing the backs of his fingers over the beautiful mounds of her breasts. Only then did she move, or try to. When her right arm didn’t come as she commanded, she frowned and tugged harder. He chuckled.

  “Didn’t think those scarves were only for decoration, did you?”

  “Then you really mean to… That is…”

  Keeping his voice neutral, he answered, “I really do.” This was the crucial moment. He would never tie a woman against her will, but Lauren didn’t know him well enough to understand that yet. If he pushed too hard, she might have another panic attack. If he wasn’t strong enough, she wouldn’t feel safe. He stepped onto the tightrope.

  “You can tell me you don’t want this, Lauren. If you want to say, ‘thanks, it’s been fun, now untie me and let me go,’ I’ll do exactly that. I will still want to make love to you because you are a beautiful, sexy lady. You, however, have the right to refuse at any moment.”

  “So if I said to untie me right now, you’d do it?”

  “Yes.”

  “But if I said to leave it and make love to me?”

  John leaned down. “I will promise you a night like you’ve never experienced before.” He took her lips in a gentle kiss.

  “That’s a pretty big boast.”

  He nodded. “Yep. Want to call me on it?”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “I do. Leave the scarf alone and prove it, big man.”

  For answer, John hooked his fingers in her thong and eased it down and off. The sight of her mound, shaved bikini style, distracted him a moment and he paused to kiss the spot just above her clit. Her intake of breath made him smile and he slipped the panties off the rest of the way. In a fluid motion, he dropped them on his discarded clothes with one hand while, with the other, he pulled on the scarf tied to her right ankle. In seconds, she was fastened top and bottom on one side.

  He knelt beside the bed, lightly running his fingers up along the inside of her leg. She squirmed a little and giggled. “That tickles.”

  “And does it tickle if I touch you…here?” He petted the small patch on her mound.

  “Mmm, no, that doesn’t tickle at all.”

  “I’m willing to bet it makes you wet. Shall I see?” Without waiting for her assent, he plunged a finger down along her slit, the dampness evident immediately. She gasped and arched her back, her eyes wide with spiked arousal.

  “I’ve been wet for some time now,” she managed, her words sounding strangled and breathless as he
rubbed his finger over her clit.

  “Oh you have, have you?” He brought his finger up to his mouth, making sure she was looking at him before he licked it clean. “Ah, good clean living, I see. You taste of honey—wonderful.”

  “That’s me, a honey bee.”

  She still teased with him, yet her eyes had a distinctly unfocused glaze. He smoothed the hair from her face, and, half lying beside her, pulled her into his arms as he kissed her again, giving her a taste of herself from his lips.

  “More along the lines of an intoxicating draught of beer, I was thinking,” he told her as his hand came up her belly to cup a breast. Taking the nipple in his mouth, he licked it to hardness, feeling his cock answer.

  But Lauren was a woman to be savored and he flicked his tongue over her nipple to judge the sounds she made. The contented sighs that she’d given him earlier now gave way to a low groan deep in the back of her throat. He was pretty sure he could make her squeal too.

  With a final, big lick, he stood up. She didn’t disappoint him. The sudden loss of his touch made her voice go up several octaves in protest. “Sorry,” he told her, completely unrepentant. “I’m not done tying you down yet.”

  The room tended to get stuffy in the summer, so John took a moment to raise the window on the opposite side of the room. Immediately a soft breeze came in, tossing the edges of the light curtains. For privacy’s sake, he closed the louvers, allowing the fresh air to enter, but not allowing the neighbors into his bedroom. A bit more distance than the width of a driveway, but not a whole lot more, separated the houses in this neighborhood.

  The whine of a window air conditioner from the house next door wafted in on the breeze and John shook his head. Nothing but a waste of electricity. Maybe it was all the hot nights in the desert that made him appreciate the feel of a cool breeze over his naked body as he slept, maybe it was his innate sense of responsibility to the environment, but he had never had the urge to encase himself in machine-made coolness while he slept.