Pillow Chase

by Jeanie London

  Only Troy could take her apart this way, could overwhelm her with his body, with his hunger, with his love. He indulged her, took his own enjoyment in her responses, and the simple honesty of his emotions, the overwhelming honesty urged her to reply in kind, to coax him into the same frenzy.

  And Miranda could always satisfy her husband in bed. She was an accommodating wife, the perfect match to her equally accommodating husband.

  So why had life become such a struggle?

  The question sideswiped her, a rational thought that cut through her haze of pleasure, real. And the special connection they shared betrayed her. Troy must have sensed her hesitation, guessed she’d become distracted, because he suddenly slowed his pace to press hungry kisses along her neck.

  She didn’t want anything to intrude on their time together, especially not thoughts that had no place in their bed. So arching her head back, she leaned into his touch, reassured by the feel of his mouth on her skin, the way he could turn unwanted doubts into breathless gasps.

  His every stroke combined with the vibrator, so direct, so intense, so overwhelming, and she forced her focus onto the way her sex clenched in greedy reply, so close to the edge.

  Holding her breath expectantly, she tried to knead her climax into breaking, wanting to lose herself in the ecstasy she knew in Troy’s arms, needing oblivion to drown out the thoughts racing inside her head.

  But the sensation remained just beyond reach. Even though her body burned. Even though she wanted release so much that she clung to her husband and rode him with hard strokes. Even though she tried to crowd out the intruding thoughts by the strength of her will and the blinding force of their lovemaking.

  Despite the effort, her oncoming orgasm evaporated like a mist beneath the sun. Within the space of a heartbeat, all her pleasure slipped away, leaving behind only a lingering warmth to mock her.

  It was gone, and wouldn’t come back. No matter how hard Miranda willed herself to relax. No matter how far she’d already traveled toward fulfillment. No matter how she yearned to feel her husband’s hands on her. The moment was over no matter what Troy might do to arouse her again.

  For one blind moment she thought about admitting her climax had gotten away. It happened. All couples faced an ebb and flow of arousal when they’d been together a while. This shouldn’t be a big deal, wouldn’t have been…

  Except this wasn’t the first time.

  2

  TROY HAD MIRANDA on the verge of coming apart in his arms and then in an instant, he’d lost her. Bonelessness had yielded to stillness. Frenzied reactions had become deliberate.

  He’d been making love to his wife for a long time and knew neither of them could always be on. Miranda knew that, too. But instead of giving him a chance to find other ways to arouse her or at least being honest about losing the mood, she’d distracted him. She’d kickstarted a rhythm he hadn’t been able to resist.

  She’d pretended everything was all right.

  It wasn’t. They had a problem here—more than one because she refused to acknowledge what was happening. He couldn’t be sure whether she was in denial or simply hiding the issue, but all the togetherness they were sharing on this vacation hadn’t succeeded in getting her to open up.

  “Come here, Miranda.” He hoped she didn’t recognize his raw tone for the disappointment it was.

  Threading his fingers around her waist, he helped her maneuver until he could pull her into his arms. She stretched out, her legs twined with his, their bodies pressed close so he could feel her smooth curves against him.

  With a few tugs, he loosed the blindfold until he found himself staring into her sultry blue eyes, a gaze that could be polished and cool or so alive with pleasure. Her expression was shadowed now, unreadable, as if she shielded her thoughts behind an invisible wall. He thumbed her cheek, a touch he hoped conveyed his yearning, the pleasure he felt to be with her again.

  “I love you, Miranda.” He moved in for a kiss, and his mouth caught hers, his tongue sweeping inside to prove he meant what he said.

  He loved her, for better or worse, always.

  Miranda snuggled close and returned his kiss with a longing that might have surprised him if he’d missed what had just happened. But he felt her restlessness now, sensed her need for reassurance, even if he didn’t know what she needed to be reassured about. He couldn’t understand what was happening with her, why she’d gone from hot to cold, unless she talked to him. She wasn’t and that bothered him. A lot.

  When they finally broke their kiss, he leaned back against the chaise. “I just want to lie here and hold you for a while.”

  “Your wish is my command, Lieutenant Commander.”

  He wished she would tell him what was wrong. But he wasn’t going to ask again. The last time he’d tried to get her talking, she’d only given him a bunch of evasions. Then she’d retreated behind her perfect wife persona—exactly what she was doing now.

  She seemed blissfully unaware of anything but this chance to snuggle. Pressing her face against his shoulder, she let her eyes flutter closed and skimmed her lips along his throat, a natural, unconscious gesture that at any other time might have made him smile.

  He wasn’t smiling now, and as he held her, Troy considered his options. She’d been on edge ever since they’d started this vacation. He’d attributed her mood to logistics. Niagara Falls was her hometown, and a vacation to Falling Inn Bed meant close quarters with her estranged cousin, the woman hosting the Naughty Nuptials. Add that to watching her parents gear up for an election and dealing with the antics of her big-hearted, too-wild sister, and Troy thought he’d understood why she’d had them holing up inside the Egyptian Pleasure Pyramid instead of running all around town to visit with family and friends.

  But Troy had been wrong.

  Suddenly everything made sense. Miranda had been trying to reassure him that everything was okay, trying to distract him from what he knew in his gut—they were in trouble. But she’d plastered a smile on her face and pretended that everything was fine.

  Like she’d just done while making love.

  And when Troy thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time she’d initiated sex. He’d been doing the honors on this vacation. He couldn’t remember back before his latest deployment. How long had this been going on?

  He probably wouldn’t like the answer, but he was glad she’d chosen distraction over faking an orgasm.

  That would have hurt.

  Burying his face in her curls, he inhaled deeply of her scent, so feminine and all Miranda. With only a week left of their holiday, he needed to reevaluate his game plan. Once they headed home, their lives would be full of commitment and routine. It would be all too easy for her to hide, and then he’d get orders and head out again.

  He needed to get Miranda to share what was on her mind now, while they had only each other to focus on, so they could figure out what was happening and how to deal with it.

  He wouldn’t let this go on any longer.

  She’d had her chance to fess up. He was done with evasions, done watching his wife retreat behind that persona she wore in public.

  He wouldn’t let her get away with it anymore. Confrontation would be a tactical error that would only put her on the defensive. No, he had to start pushing, but he had to push purposefully, quietly.

  As if sensing his resolve, Miranda nestled closer and gave a small sigh, her mouth parting around the soft sound. She had a kissing mouth, a mouth that smiled with such dazzling perfection that he always wanted to tease her until she couldn’t resist brushing those moist lips against him.

  Her mouth had been the first thing he’d noticed about her. Miranda was the kind of beautiful that made men stupid. He vividly recalled how his fellow officers who had toured her college group through their naval base had made asses of themselves over her.

  Troy might have gotten stupid, too, had it not been for her too-cool composure that had challenged him. He could still remember ho
w her self-possessed smiles had dared him to make her laugh, or frown. He’d wondered what it would take to get her to let her hair down.

  And make her sigh with pleasure.

  Troy had sensed they were a pair. Two people with adventurous souls. He’d been raised without limits while Miranda had been taught to keep her sense of adventure reined tight. With her high-power family, she’d honed her public persona to a sharp edge, but beneath that composure beat a light heart. He’d wanted to be the man to help her discover that part of herself, and he’d always tried to be supportive.

  But no more.

  He wouldn’t sit around and wait for Miranda to come clean. She’d had her chance. Too many chances. He wouldn’t let her slip away without a fight.

  He wouldn’t let her slip away. Period.

  MIRANDA HAD STARTED the morning off with high hopes of enjoying a relaxing day with Troy. No Naughty Nuptials events. No visits with family or friends.

  She should have known better.

  Crashing and burning on the way to an orgasm clearly wasn’t enough to deal with this morning. Now a phone call from her sister pitched her day from bad to worse, and she was this close to declaring mutiny and abandoning ship on this whole vacation.

  Settling the telephone back on the cradle, she cocked a hip against the desk and stared out into the courtyard, flooded with sunlight from the glass ceiling. What appeared to be a bright day in the Egyptian Pleasure Pyramid’s oasis didn’t feel anything but gloomy and dismal.

  Troy emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plate. “Lunch. I made enough for us both.”

  His man-size sandwich surrounded by a mound of pickles and tortilla chips almost made her smile. “Thanks. But I’m not hungry just now.” Her appetite had gone the way of her orgasm.

  “So what’s up with your sister?” He arranged his meal on the table.

  “Victoria wants me to meet her in the photojournalist’s room so she can talk to me. Laura Granger will be there.”

  “Laura, why?” He sounded surprised, and she wasn’t sure why. They were dealing with her younger sister here, a woman who lived life to throw monkey wrenches in situations just to see what happened.

  “She didn’t say.”

  Meeting with the photojournalist wasn’t a problem. But Laura Granger? Her estranged cousin was about the last person Miranda wanted to meet with any day—especially a day that had taken such a downhill turn. She was already scrambling not to let her vanishing orgasm spoil her mood.

  Maybe Victoria could ignore the longtime rift between their family and Laura’s. She was the only one, though. People in this town always paid close attention whenever Fords and Grangers came together, and personally, Miranda couldn’t see what was so fascinating.

  Their mothers were sisters. So what if Laura was the daughter of a rebel socialite who had abandoned her family to run off with an artist? That only proved Laura’s mother cared more about herself than the needs of her family.

  Good riddance, as far as Miranda was concerned.

  “Well, I suppose it’s to be expected,” she said. “I knew I’d have to deal with the whole family issue when I let you talk me into getting married at Laura Granger’s hotel.”

  She couldn’t lament that choice now. If she hadn’t agreed to have the wedding here, then they’d never have been invited back as the Hottest Honeymoon Couple. She’d wanted a fantasy wedding and vacation. Now she would pay the price.

  “You let me talk you into getting married here because you knew this place would be fun.” Troy dropped a pickle back onto the plate, leaned back and shot her a sober look. “And you knew if you went along, I’d make it worth your while. I’ve held up my end of the deal.”

  That wasn’t a question, and Miranda’s heart sighed at the memory of the easier time in their lives and how well he’d held up his end of the deal. A wedding night in the exotic Roman Bagnio suite where they’d soaked naked in the baths. Three weeks touring the Hawaiian Islands where they’d made love on their own private beach during sunrises and sunsets.

  He’d been living up to his end of the deal. No question.

  “Perhaps the Naughty Nuptials wasn’t such a great idea,” she admitted. “Maybe we should have gone someplace where we didn’t know anyone for our vacation.”

  “Done deal. Besides, we’ve been so busy with these events that you haven’t had much time to spend with anyone but me. I’m surprised your family and friends haven’t beaten down the door.”

  “Everyone knows we’re here for the grand opening. And we deserve some time together.”

  “Agreed, but I expected to do some sharing. You haven’t been home in six months. People want to see you.”

  “Like Victoria and Laura Granger,” she said dryly. “I would assume this has something to do with Hottest Honeymoons, but if so, why would she only invite me? I wonder if this has something to do with her engagement.”

  “You sound skeptical.”

  “What else can I be, Troy? My sister’s involved with Laura Granger and engaged to a man she just met. This is even more insane than her usual insanity.”

  “Could be worse. She could have run off to Vegas to live with Adam.”

  No argument there. But the whole situation was so classic Victoria that it was hard to be objective. “Who knows if that wedding will ever take place? They might decide they don’t like each other once they become acquainted.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. They know they’re in love. What more do they need to know?”

  There was a soft quality to his voice, a sound that implied he’d be equally insane for her. Not so long ago that admission would have melted her heart, but now…now it reminded her she hadn’t been living up to her end of the deal.

  “I guess I should get this over with.” She had better things to expend her energy on—like figuring out how to keep her worries out of the bedroom for the rest of their vacation.

  “I’ll come with you,” Troy said.

  She turned to find him leaving the table. “I appreciate it, but finish your lunch. I won’t be long.”

  “I’ve been waiting four months to be with you. I don’t want to waste more time if I can help it.”

  “I like when we’re together.”

  “Me, too, Mrs. Knight. Me, too.”

  And as she watched him cross the room to return his plate to the kitchen, she saw the determination in his long strides, knew he wanted to be with her because he recognized that she dreaded this visit.

  That was Troy, solid, there. Even when they were physically apart, he tried to stay involved and supportive. She appreciated the effort. But lately that closeness let him sense she was off, despite her best efforts to reassure him.

  She simply had to pull herself together so she could get on with the important things in life…like enjoying together time with her husband on a fantasy vacation that most couples only dreamed of.

  Making her way into the bedroom, Miranda refreshed her makeup, and Troy soon followed, heading into the bathroom with the promise, “I’ll take a fast shower.”

  “Fine.” She glanced into the mirror where she found a stranger staring back.

  Who was this woman who had let worry chase away another orgasm?

  Miranda didn’t know.

  She’d always been a capable, accomplished woman who had no trouble achieving what she put her mind to. Public speaking. Spearheading a variety of volunteer fund-raisers. Graduating from college cum laude. Whenever she set a goal, she learned the skills necessary to accomplish the job then did it. No problem.

  She’d fallen in love, gotten married and planned to be the perfect wife. She’d intended to accompany Troy on his tours, support his career and keep the home fires burning while he was on duty.

  She’d understood the responsibilities involved, knew what it would take to support a man with a power career, and was willing to do the job. She’d learned from the best—her mother handled the demanding role of politician’s wife with grace and ease. Miranda had felt eag
er and ready for her future as Troy’s wife.

  It had never occurred to her that she couldn’t transition her skills into military life.

  But that’s exactly what was happening.

  Dropping the lipstick into her purse, she glanced down at the dresser where Troy’s wallet sat neatly beside his watch and the suite’s keycard. His organizational skills were a side effect of his upbringing, a tangible reminder of how different he was from any man she’d ever known.

  If Miranda didn’t love him so much, she might not feel so badly right now. But she did love him enough that she desperately needed to figure out how to deal with the situation before he found out life was exploding in her face back home.

  The memory of her latest failure hit her fast and hard, and humiliation came as white-hot and excruciating as it had during her latest attempt to make a place for herself with the wives of Troy’s peers. Closing her eyes, Miranda couldn’t face herself in the mirror when she remembered taking her turn as hostess for their monthly tea.

  I want the event to be special, she’d told the local florist. So let’s go with a springtime theme to celebrate April showers and May flowers.

  She remembered standing in the doorway of the clubhouse to survey the effect, found herself pleased with the result. Tables had been decorated with colorful floral arrangements, sparkling glassware and a variety of goodies catered by a well-known teahouse she’d heard many of the women rave over.

  She wanted to make a good impression—the officers’ wives were a tight network on this naval base, a support system through the steady rounds of “hails and farewells,” bosses’ nights and unaccompanied tours. Through them, she could learn the social dos and don’ts to help further Troy’s career.

  For some reason, her infiltration into their ranks hadn’t been smooth, and she’d wanted this tea to bridge the distance. She remembered smiling while gazing around that beautifully decorated room.