by Rachel Lee
Startled by the question, Andrea blinked. “Standard undergarments.”
“Good.” His smile was crooked. “In the books and movies, clothes just conveniently vanish. In real life there’s no romantic, easy way to take care of them.”
Drawing her into his arms once again, he reached for the zipper on the back of her dress. “Lean on me, Andrea.”
She couldn’t have done anything else. The instant he tugged the zipper tab, her knees turned to water again. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his waist and clung.
“Why does it matter what I’m wearing?” she asked shakily, trying to concentrate. Heavens, he was pulling that zipper slowly.
“Because you’re not ready to be naked with me, but it’s easier to deal with undergarments than a dress. Now, shut up, Andrea. Pay attention to what I’m doing to you.”
As if she could pay attention to anything else. All the while he eased that zipper down, his mouth insisted on pillaging her face and throat. His tongue streaked lightning along nerve endings she’d never been aware of before. And then…then his hands slipped inside her dress, warm against the smooth, sensitive skin of her back. Andrea gasped with pleasure, and Dare took advantage of it to kiss her long and deep.
When he raised his head again, her dress had somehow slipped off her shoulders, and she could feel it sliding down, down. His mouth followed, trailing hot little kisses across her shoulder to the swelling rise of one breast above her bra. Andrea froze, her heart hammering painfully as she waited for what was to come next. She guessed, half in fright and half in hope, that he would kiss her there where no one had ever….
With a cool caress, her dress puddled about her ankles, and she stood within the circle of his arms clad in nothing but her bra, half slip, and panty hose.
“Shh,” Dare whispered when she gave a small cry of surprise. “Shh, sweetheart. It’s all right. Everything’s all right.”
Of course it was all right, she thought hazily, unable to raise eyelids that had somehow become weighted with lead. What was he talking about? It felt so good to feel the warm skin of his arms around her bare back, to feel the fabric of his shirt against her stomach.
Gently, Dare loosened her hold on him, and then, lifting her once again, he tucked her into his bed, beneath a comforter. Startled, Andrea opened her eyes, and in the dim light from the hallway she saw that he was discarding his own clothes. For an instant she felt a pang of fear. This was really happening, and she must be mad, insane. She’d sworn she would never do this, not ever, yet here she was, and it was far too late to back out. She’d insisted she wanted this, and she couldn’t possibly change her mind when he was so—so—ready.
Suddenly he was in the bed beside her, beneath the coverlet, the warm, furry skin of his chest brushing her arm. The sensation electrified her, and her doubts no longer seemed as important.
“Andrea?” Propped on one elbow, he leaned over her, brushing her hair gently back as he studied her in the dim light. “Second thoughts? Don’t be afraid to tell me.” Disappointment might kill him, but he didn’t want to harm a hair on her head.
Andrea’s eyes opened again, and she looked up into his concerned face. That face, she realized uncomfortably, had become very dear to her in ways she was afraid to examine. Drawing a deep breath, she unconsciously squared her shoulders.
“You were right,” she said on a breath. “Clothes are very awkward to deal with.”
Slowly, he smiled. “Ah,” he said with understanding. “Not second thoughts but cooling fires. We can remedy that.”
Bravely lifting her arms, she twined them around his neck. Well, Burke, she told herself, you wanted this. You’ve been fantasizing about it for weeks. Now you’re going to find out. Don’t be a damn chicken.
Dare accepted her invitation, claiming her mouth in a soul-searing kiss that made everything else seem insignificant. There, beneath the comforter, in the sheltering shadows, he warmed her with his hands and lips, and when her bra vanished, her only thought was to press closer, to ease the ache in her breasts against the hardness of his chest. When she felt him shudder in response, she was further emboldened to rub against him.
“Andrea, Andrea,” he muttered, “oh, yes!”
Arching his body away from her suddenly, he ducked his head beneath the comforter. A cry escaped Andrea as at last, at last, his mouth found the swollen peak of her breast, closing on it gently. Each suckling motion of his mouth and tongue sent a shaft of need spiraling to her core, feeding the ache there. She wanted him never to stop, but she wanted more, too.
His hands suddenly slipped beneath her slip, panty hose, and panties, cupping her round bottom and kneading in a rhythmic motion that made her sway in time to the pulsing fires inside her. In fact, her whole body throbbed in time to his hands and mouth.
When he suddenly took his mouth from her breasts, she cried out in disappointment, only to freeze in renewed excitement as he sat up and dispensed at last with her remaining garments. In one sweeping movement he stripped them down her legs and tossed them onto the floor before pulling up the comforter once more and returning to lie half over her.
“God, you feel so good to me,” he grated near her ear, and Andrea realized he felt good to her, as well. One whole half of her body was pressed intimately to his, and she was acutely aware of the wondrous differences between a man and a woman. With an instinct as old as humanity, she accommodated herself to him, parting her legs so that one of his fell between them. She was instantly rewarded with a renewed throb of sensation that led her to turn toward him, to seek him with her hands.
“That’s it, Andrea,” he said huskily, controlling himself with difficulty. “Do whatever you want, whatever feels good to you.”
“I want to make you feel good, too,” she said thickly as she nibbled on the flat muscles across his chest.
“Oh, baby, you do. You do.”
Finding a small, hard male nipple in the fur, she nipped at it experimentally and heard a groan rip from deep within him.
“If you do that too many times,” he said roughly, “this’ll be over before it’s started.”
Liking the way he reacted, she did it again and felt him jerk from head to foot. “You like that, too?” she asked breathlessly.
“God, yes.”
So she did it again, and for her sake Dare rolled on top of her and kissed her into breathlessness. He’d been ready to go almost from the outset, but he wanted Andrea to be right at his side. With lips and tongue he suckled first one breast and then the other, while his hand foraged downward toward her silken secrets. His fingers didn’t get much below her navel before she was writhing against him and sobbing something that sounded like a plea.
With each kiss his own control had grown weaker, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep his own promises about drawing this out, not this time.
“Andrea? Andrea, my timing is terrible, but this is important. You’re not protected are you?”
Her hands were clutching at his head, holding him to her breast, and he felt them suddenly grow still.
“Andrea?”
“It’s okay,” she groaned. She took the pill to regulate her cycle, and never had she been so grateful for that little inconvenience.
“You’re sure?”
“It’s my career. Dare, please. Please!”
Slowly he slid over her, parting her legs gently with his hands, rising to his knees.
“Oh, baby,” he sighed against her mouth. “Touch me, Andrea. Touch me.”
She reached for his velvet hardness, felt him stiffen and groan with a pleasure equal to her own. The sound thrilled her, and she guided him closer, needing that hardness as if it were a lost part of her.
“Now, Dare,” she begged. “Now. Now.”
“Yes, honey. Yes.”
He thrust slowly, hanging on to the dregs of his control, giving her time to accommodate him. She was so tight that he knew she must hurt, but when he felt the barrier and hesitated, she ar
ched up suddenly and fully sheathed him in her welcoming softness. A cry escaped her, and Dare grew instantly still, lifting his head to look into her face. He knew there was no way to avoid the pain, but he felt suddenly helpless and ignorant. How long would it last? Was there anything he should do to help her? Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open on a gasp that told him nothing.
“Andrea? Are you all right?”
Her eyelids fluttered, and her hands tightened on his waist. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “I’m fine.” The pain was passing off, leaving her aware of a wondrous, satisfying fullness.
“So good,” she sighed. “You feel so good.” She arched toward him.
He needed no more. Pulling back, he thrust again, and she met him eagerly, long legs twining around his hips, hands gripping his shoulders. “Yes,” she groaned. “Yes.”
Higher and higher he took them, racing for a place she could only guess at. A hard, exquisite pressure grew in her, seeking his thrusts, until it filled her completely, and the universe focused in that small place where they joined together, meeting, retreating, seeking.
Suddenly Andrea shattered as she never had before, bursting into blazing fireworks of scattering sparks, convulsing just as Dare convulsed with a hard groan, his short sharp jerks answering the rippling contractions inside her. His head fell to her shoulder; her arms fell to the bed. Only slowly, however, did her legs release him, reluctant to give up the fullness of their sharing.
And only slowly did Andrea come back to herself. “If that isn’t illegal,” she said huskily, feeling dizzy and weak, “it ought to be.”
Dare kissed her and rolled off her, drawing her carefully to his side so that her head was cradled on his shoulder. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that never had it been so good for him, but some instinct warned him not to. She could believe the wonder of it came from her inexperience, but she wouldn’t be able to believe that about him. She wanted no strings, so he would give her none. But God, it wasn’t easy. If he had wanted her before, he wanted her more now.
“Do you have any aspirin?” Andrea asked.
Dare, who was engaged in gently stroking her arm with his fingertips, paused. “Headache?”
“I think I overdid it with my shoulder.”
“Bad?”
“Not really. Just a little too much to ignore is all.”
He dropped a kiss on her temple. “I’ll be right back.”
Rising, he thoughtfully pulled the comforter to her chin before padding away on bare feet.
Andrea decided she liked this feeling of floating. No hardness to remind her of reality. Reality was that she was leaving in a month and would never see Dare again. Reality was knowing how much she was going to hurt.
Turning over, she pressed her face into the pillow. She tried to tell herself she felt this way because he had just set her free of a lot of misconceptions, had just showed her something so wonderful she was greedy for more. But she didn’t believe her own rationalizations. It was more than the last couple of hours. It was the way his lips twitched and his eyes twinkled when she zinged him. It was the way he intuitively understood what it meant to be Charlie Burke’s daughter. It was the way he was so firmly and squarely centered in himself that he wasn’t threatened by her. It was the way he seemed to take pleasure in Andrea Burke just the way she was.
“Andrea?” His voice was quiet, his touch on her shoulder gentle.
She rolled over at once and tried to smile at him. Dare saw past the smile, however. In the smoky mists that swirled in her green eyes, he saw the shadow of longing and loss. He’d put that there. Suddenly he didn’t feel so good about himself.
Andrea took the aspirin he offered, swallowing it with water. The scar on her left shoulder was an angry red, puckered. Dare touched it lightly with a fingertip and thought how incredibly brave she was. Not grandstand brave. Andrea wasn’t a grandstander. Just quietly and continuously day-in-and-day-out brave. Bending forward, he kissed the scar.
She closed her arms around him, hugging him, fingers stroking the nape of his neck.
“Andrea?”
“Sir?”
He smiled against her shoulder. “When do you go back on duty?”
“What day is it?”
“It just turned into Christmas Day ten minutes ago.”
“Then I go back on duty tomorrow. Lieutenant Dolan wanted an extra day at New Year’s, so he’s working today.”
“Finally learning to delegate, I see.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Andrea?” She smelled so sweet.
“Yes?”
“Would I be imposing if I asked you to stay with me?”
She drew a deep breath. “No,” she said softly. “You wouldn’t be imposing at all.”
He raised his head, looking into her hazy green eyes. “Do you want to stay with me, Andrea?”
“There’s nothing I want more in the whole world, Dare.”
He brushed the lightest of kisses on her lips. “Sweet Andrea. Tell me something.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you a Christmas morning person, or a Christmas Eve person?”
“How do you mean?”
“Do you like to open your presents in the morning or on Christmas Eve?”
“We always opened them in the morning at home. But I always thought Christmas Eve would be more romantic.”
His fingers found their way into her short, silky hair. Before Andrea, he’d always preferred long hair on a woman. Somehow her strawberry blond boyish cut had become incredibly sexy to him. He liked the way it hid nothing of her face, her ears, her neck. He even liked her Huck Finn freckles.
“So you’ve thought about romance from time to time, Captain?”
“Once in a while it has crossed my mind.”
“We missed Christmas Eve.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“But it’s still not morning. We can pretend it’s still Christmas Eve.”
She considered gravely. “I don’t see any problem with that. I wouldn’t find it difficult to pretend at all.”
“Tell me what would be a romantic Christmas Eve for you, Andrea.”
She smiled suddenly, a soft, melting smile. “I just had it.”
His smile answered her. “But you didn’t open your presents.”
“But I did. The best present of all.”
He couldn’t help it; he had to kiss her, had to kiss her until her eyes glazed and she melted into softness in his arms.
“What if I told you,” he asked huskily, “that there’s a present under the tree right now for you.”
“For me?”
“For you. I was going to risk your undying wrath and drop it by the BOQ this morning.”
He gave her his robe to wear, a thick royal blue terry cloth robe that dwarfed her, but for once in her life Andrea didn’t mind being made to feel small. Dare pulled on his jeans and a gray sweatshirt, and they returned to the living room hand in hand.
“Brandy?” he asked.
“I’d really like coffee, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all. But it might keep you awake.”
The smile she gave him stirred the banked fires in his loins. It became a feat of willpower to walk the short distance into his kitchen and make the coffee.
Together they sat on the couch, Andrea with her legs tucked under her, sipping coffee and eating cookies.
“At my place in Montana,” Dare said, “I have a fireplace. Two, actually. One in the living room and one in the master bedroom.”
“You have a house there?”
“Yep. And right now we’d be sitting in front of a blazing fire. Outside, snow would be falling gently on the deck, and I’d have the floods on, so we could see it through the glass doors, behind the Christmas tree.”
“Sounds nice.” The words were a sigh.
“It is nice,” he agreed. “I’ve had the house for five years now, and I spend my leave there. There’s alw
ays enough snow for skiing. And the summers are super. I practically live outside when I’m there.”
“Where are you from originally, Dare?”
“Montana.” He kissed her, running his tongue along her lips. “You taste like chocolate chip cookies. Want your present?”
Her eyes looked dazed. It tickled him to death that his kiss could daze his cool Captain Burke.
“But, Dare, I don’t have anything for you.”
“Oh, yes, you do.” He kissed her again, this time slipping his hand inside the terry robe to cup her breast. Andrea trembled, leaning into him. “You have plenty for me,” he murmured against her hair, “and I plan to open my presents again and again.”
He drew away reluctantly and went to the tree, picking up a medium-sized box. “I figured this would make you furious enough to splutter at me. Maybe now it won’t.”
He stood over her uneasily while she tore away the red paper. She could tell he was nervous about it, so she drew the moment out, glancing up at him with that devilish gleam he knew so well.
“Captain Burke,” he said finally, “do I need to remind you that it isn’t wise to keep your CO in uncomfortable suspense?”
“Why are you in uncomfortable suspense, Colonel? What is it? A chastity belt?”
He gave a muffled laugh. “Worse. I saw it at the mall, and from the minute I saw it I was possessed. I had to give it to you, even if you threw it back in my face. Go on. Open it.”
“Sounds to me like you were the one being unwise, sir,” she said primly, and then gasped as she opened the box.
Inside was green silk, beautiful, brilliant green silk. Lifting it gently from the box, she tested its softness and admired its loveliness. It was a peignoir, she realized.
“Will you put it on?” he asked huskily.
She raised her face slowly, and he saw tears sparkling on her lashes.
“Andrea? Andrea, if it offends you, throw it away.” He was suddenly panic-stricken. Her spluttering fury was one thing. Her tears were altogether something else.
