Command Performance

by Sara Jane Stone

  Maggie held on to the bar with one hand as Olivia’s words sank in. Her sense of duty had started smothering her years ago when her father began drinking. This was her chance to escape. If she didn’t act now, she might lose the part of herself that craved orgasms. The part of herself that wished she’d told her fiancé she wanted wild sex on his desk and so much more.

  “You’re right,” Maggie said softly.

  Olivia smiled and signaled the bartender for a second round. “Now, look around. See anything you like?”

  Feeling the vodka pulsing through her, Maggie boldly scanned the refreshment tent. What was she looking for? Muscles. The kind that came from the hard work required to transform a man into a soldier or from lifting engine parts. But four out of five guys in here looked like they could bench-press her one-handed. And thanks to her breasts, she wasn’t one of those hundred-pounds-soaking-wet women.

  She took a second look and mentally eliminated about half of them. Too young. She wanted a man who knew things about sex. She wanted an orgasm that left her breathless, boneless and begging for more.

  Her gaze landed on a green polo, tight but not too tight. And those biceps? They shouted touch me. Her eyes drifted over his shoulders to his face, framed by straight brown hair. She’d always liked brown hair. Staring at his profile—he was deep in conversation with an equally handsome but not quite as sexy man across the table—she could see his mouth curving upward in a half smile. Those lips. He had the type of mouth that begged a woman to say kiss me lower down, please.

  Maggie clutched her drink and drew her gaze away from his face. Twelve months of unfulfilling sex had driven her mad if she was thinking about his lips kissing her there before she’d even said a word to the guy. She blinked and took in the rest of him. She could see the endless length of his legs stretched out beneath the table.

  Her body tingled as she drank in the sight of him. With a long, sculpted body like that he must know how to do things, deliciously sinful, wild things that previously only existed in her fantasies. He turned and looked right at her, and then smiled. She tightened her grip on her nearly empty drink. Those eyes. That mouth. She’d bet her inheritance that man knew ten ways to give a woman the best orgasm of her life. If he looked at her like that much longer, she might come right here. Her thighs tightened at the thought. This man would say yes. He wouldn’t turn her down. Not after that look.

  Maggie blinked and turned to the bartender. “Cancel the vodka tonic. Just water, please.”

  The liquor had made her bold, maybe even a little reckless, but if she wished to remember every detail about tonight, she needed water. “Do you remember George Clooney when he was young? When he was on ER?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Olivia took her wine from the bartender. “He was on the show when we first started watching it in high school.”

  “Green polo, blue jeans at eight o’clock.”

  Olivia raised an eyebrow. “He’s not your usual type.”

  “He has George Clooney’s eyes. Bedroom eyes.” Maggie reached for her water and drained half the glass. “Tonight, he’s my type.”

  2

  CHIEF WARRANT OFFICER Hunter Cross knew a come-on look when he saw one. A look that said, I want you naked in my bed. Tonight.

  He leaned back on his rickety wooden folding chair and let a slow smile spread across his face, a move he’d perfected at sixteen to get the captain of the debate team into the backseat of his mother’s car. He’d always had a thing for supersmart girls. Of course, he’d moved beyond sex in the backseat since high school, but not much. Commitment was a dirty word in his mind, and long-term made him shudder. Not even the woman at the bar with her soft shoulder-length curls or touch-me breasts would tempt him to change his mind.

  Across the room, the blonde pursed her lips, unsure if she should proceed with their unspoken dance. That expression. It was a mix of bold and innocent, an intoxicating combination that went right to his crotch. He let his eyelids lower slightly.

  “I know that look isn’t for me,” Riley, his friend and former team leader, said from across the table.

  “The blonde at the bar. She just gave me a green light.”

  Riley chuckled. “You’ve been in town for less than three hours and you’ve already found a woman.”

  “Hey, I’ve been laid up in a hospital for two months.” Before that, he’d been in Afghanistan. He would have left unscathed if his team hadn’t been ordered to rescue three female aid workers traveling to a remote clinic. And thanks to a teammate’s mistake, he’d taken a bullet in the process.

  “How’s your arm?” Riley asked, his expression serious.

  “Fine.” Hunter rolled his shoulder. It still ached. Nothing the blonde couldn’t fix.

  “Logan feels awful about how it all went down.”

  Hunter started to say it wasn’t Logan’s fault, but stopped. They both knew it was. His friend and teammate had been distracted after losing his young wife to cancer before they shipped out, and as a result he’d messed up—and Hunter had been shot.

  “Any thoughts about getting out? Resigning your commission?” Riley asked.

  “Hell, no.”

  “I heard one of those private security companies offered you a job,” Riley said quietly.

  “Yeah, but you know me. I live for being a Ranger. Hell, I’m hoping they’ll give me your old job.” With Riley bowing out as head of their team, Hunter was in line for the job he’d always dreamed of and a pay hike. A small one. “I could sure use the extra cash.”

  “Trust me, the pay bump is so small you’ll barely notice. It’s nothing compared to what those private companies pay.” Riley pulled out his wallet. “But I can help you out tonight. The beers are on me. I need to be getting home.”

  “Curfew?”

  “I like to be in bed with my wife before she falls asleep,” Riley replied with a smile. “If you ever settle down, you’ll understand.”

  “I think I’d take another bullet before relinquishing my freedom.”

  “Someday you’re going to eat those words. When the right woman comes along, you’re going to fall so hard you’ll give up everything to be with her. Everything.”

  “Did they brainwash you when you made those vows?” Hunter joked. Riley didn’t know he’d already sacrificed everything he had for his sister. He had nothing left to provide for a wife and family of his own.

  Riley laughed.

  “Listen, I think it’s great what you’ve got,” Hunter said. “But I’m committed to the army. I’m dying to get back to active duty. Married life? It’s not for me.”

  “If you say so.” Riley set a twenty on the table and stood. “Think you can catch a cab back to the hotel if things don’t work out with your green-light girl?”

  That’s no girl, Hunter thought. She has “woman with needs” written all over her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find my way to bed.”

  Riley slipped his wallet into his back pocket. “If you end up sticking around the area for a while, give me a call and I’ll drive down for another drink.”

  “Will do. But next time I pick the venue. Not that I didn’t enjoy picking out replacement parts for your wife’s truck.”

  Riley patted him on the shoulder, his good one. “Deal.”

  Hunter’s gaze shifted to the cash on the table as his friend headed toward the exit. In the past, he’d have insisted on paying for his own beer. But right now, his cash flow situation was pretty dismal. If he hadn’t been ordered to fly up here when he’d been released from the physical therapy center, he would be crashing on one of his teammates’ couches until they were deployed again. With his sister back in rehab and all the bills coming to him, he could barely afford the beer in his hand.

  Hunter took a long sip. In his book, family came first. Always. His sister was the only family he had left. He refused to lose her to a meth overdose.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  The soft words yanked Hunter away from his thoughts. The woman fr
om the bar stood with one hand on the chair next to his, her blue eyes wide and uncertain. Her other hand maintained a death grip on her glass. Nerves, he guessed. She might be playing the part of the brazen blonde tonight, but he’d bet his next paycheck that casting come-hither looks at strangers wasn’t a habit.

  Hunter smiled and stood to pull a chair out for her. “Please.” He extended his hand. “Hunter Cross. And you are?”

  “Maggie.” She shook his hand and then slipped into the chair. He’d noticed the smooth expanse of skin exposed by her backless shirt when she’d been at the bar, but seeing her up close made him want to touch, to run his hand over the place where her bra line should be, but wasn’t. He moved back to his chair to admire the view from the front. Little Miss Maggie’s taut nipples strained against the thin fabric.

  God help him, he loved breasts. And full braless breasts? They drove him wild.

  The woman who now stood beside him looked as if she’d gotten lost on her way home from a cruise ship. “Three questions and then I’ll leave you two alone.”

  Little Miss Maggie’s friend had rushed over to “help.” Great. But he didn’t try to send her back to her ship. He merely nodded, prepared to face the interrogation. “Okay.”

  “Are you married?” she demanded.

  “Fair question.” He didn’t take his eyes off her face. He could understand a friend looking out for her own. “No, ma’am.”

  “Are you a soldier?”

  Hunter hesitated. He knew lots of women picked up soldiers. As a rule, he tried to steer clear of them. Women on the hunt for a hero wanted commitment no matter how much they pretended otherwise. Marriage might be perfect for Riley, but the last thing Hunter needed was another person to support.

  He glanced at Maggie. The brazen blonde who’d approached him sat biting her lower lip, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to decide whether she should punch her friend or turn tail and run. He lowered his gaze to her chest. Hunter wanted her to stay. Badly.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He met the friend’s challenging gaze. “Army.”

  His interrogator frowned and turned to Miss Maggie. “He’s not a mechanic.”

  A mechanic? Seriously? He’d never heard of women trying to pick up mechanics. Maybe New York ladies were more practical. Why snag a soldier when you could have someone around to fix your car?

  But he couldn’t let Miss Maggie walk away because he didn’t take apart engines for a living. He smiled. “I’m not. But I know how to change a tire.”

  “Great,” Maggie said, her brow relaxing.

  “Are you a general?” her friend demanded.

  He let out a bark of laughter. A general? What the hell? Sure, some women went after navy SEALs. Maybe some even wanted army rangers. But autoworkers and generals?

  “No, ma’am.”

  Maggie’s friend gave him a long, hard look as if she thought he might be lying, and then to his surprise nodded. “Good.” She looked down at Maggie. “I’ll take a cab home. Call me tomorrow.” She waved as she walked toward the exit, blinding everyone in the tent as the light caught her shockingly pink shoes.

  Hunter shook his head and reclaimed his chair. “What do you have against generals?”

  “They intimidate me.”

  “But I don’t?”

  She smiled and leaned toward him. “Oh, no, you do. But for other reasons.”

  “Such as?” If she was looking to secure a soldier, she was sure going about it differently. Most ladies asked a few questions about his latest trip overseas and then declared him “sooo brave,” at which point Hunter walked away.

  Nothing but a direct order could drag him away from Maggie.

  “Reason number one, I haven’t done this before.” She waved her free hand through the air. The other hand remained glued to her glass. “Pick up someone. A man. At a car show refreshment tent.”

  He nodded. Bold with a serious case of nerves. And she’d chosen him for her first time. Why? he wondered. His eyes dropped south. They’d get back to the whys. Right now, he wanted to get her naked. But first she had a list of reasons. Hunter grinned. Little Miss Maggie was both beautiful and amusing. For a woman like her, he could afford a little patience. “And reason number two?”

  She pursed her full lips, drawing his gaze to her mouth. The sight of her nipples had attracted his interest, but her mouth? The thought of those pink lips touching him went straight to his groin. Hunter reached for his pint glass.

  “I’m trying to decide what I need to know about you before we end up in bed together.”

  He coughed and sputtered, nearly covering the front of her shirt with the remains of his beer. Once he’d regained his composure somewhat—his dick was harder than ever—he pushed back from the table. “You think about that and I’ll get us another round. What are you drinking?”

  “Water.”

  Hunter sidled up to the bar, ordered two waters and paid for the earlier beers with Riley’s cash. He’d found the perfect woman, or rather she’d found him—easy on the budget and eager to jump into bed with him. He’d met more women than he could count who swore up and down they did not want a relationship, but brazen-yet-sometimes-shy Maggie was the first he suspected who might mean exactly what she said.

  The bartender placed two glasses and a stack of singles in front of him. Hunter took the hint and left a big tip. It was easy to be generous with Riley’s cash. Once he got Sierra out of rehab and employed—God help him—he could afford to drop large tips with his own money. Pushing the less-than-pleasant thoughts away, he went back to the table.

  “Your water, Miss Maggie.” He slid the glass in front of her.

  The corner of her mouth turned up. “Thank you.”

  He picked up his chair and flipped it around. Straddling the seat, his arms resting on the low wooden back, he asked, “So, what would you like to know?”

  She stared down at the table a moment then asked, “Do you live around here, or are you just visiting?”

  He’d never had the luxury of honestly and openly interrogating the women he met, but if he’d been in her shoes he would have asked the same thing. His gaze ran down her jeans-clad legs—not long, but a good fit for her height—and landed on her lofty heels. Okay, so bacon might sprout wings before he’d wear those supersexy shiny white things, but it was still a good question. “Just visiting. A work thing next week.”

  A hint of a smile flashed across her face and her stick-straight posture eased. Relief, he guessed. He waited for her to ask him where he was from, how long he’d been in the army or what exactly he did, which he couldn’t tell her, but Miss Maggie didn’t say a word. “Anything else?”

  She drew a deep breath and stared at her water. For a fleeting second, he wondered if he’d read her wrong. He couldn’t tell if she was gathering up the courage to ask another question or run away.

  Just when he thought she might ditch her heels and sprint to the exit, she looked him straight in the eye. “No more questions.”

  How close is your bed? He kept his mouth shut, waiting for a better response to pop into his brain. Problem was, his brain wasn’t doing the thinking anymore.

  “But,” she continued.

  God help him, there was a but. He reached for his water and brought the glass to his lips, hoping it would take the edge off the get-her-naked-now feeling pulsing through him.

  “I need to make sure we’re on the same page here.” She looked him straight in the eyes, as if she were about to reveal weapon launch codes. “I want an amazing orgasm. Actually, scratch that. I want more than one. So if you don’t think you can deliver, or if you’re looking for more than one night, I’ll thank you for the drink and leave. Because I really need those orgasms.”

  He could have sworn he was dreaming. In his wildest fantasies, he’d never imagined he’d meet someone like her. A woman who demanded orgasms, lots of them, without commitment.

  Could he deliver? Hunter set the nearly empty glass back on the table. “Honey, I’m you
r man.”

  3

  THE PLAN HAD WORKED. Hunter Cross, the man with the bedroom eyes, was looking at her as if he couldn’t wait to tear her clothes off. She could tell from the tension in his body that he was ready to jump up from the table. He’d just drenched the front of his clothes and he didn’t seem to give a damn. That’s what she wanted, a man who cared more about her pleasure than his own comfort.

  A rush of excitement washed over her, leaving her skin tingling, waiting to be touched. The feeling took her by surprise. It had been so long since she’d felt that first spark that she barely recognized it. This is what I’ve been looking for, she thought.

  “But first, I have a few things I need to know about you before I get into bed with you,” he said calmly.

  Or maybe not. He didn’t sound like a man blinded by lust. Maybe she was so desperate for a wild night in bed with a man who made her breasts ache to be touched that she’d imagined his interest.

  Her stomach flipped and she reached for her drink, needing to hold something. Why had she picked the most handsome man in the tent, maybe in the entire state of New York, for her conquest? And why hadn’t she started with a normal conversation? She could have asked him what he did in the army, or where he was from. Instead, she’d demanded an orgasm.

  Her finger traced the rim of her water glass. Maybe she should run away now and spare herself any further embarrassment. She could stop on her way home and buy a vibrator. Throw in a cinnamon bun and that might be all the wild and crazy she needed in her life right now.

  Except her fantasies didn’t involve batteries.

  “What would you like to know?” She tried to sound casual, which was hard given she’d whispered the words.

  “Do you live around here?”

  She looked up at him and felt her building sense of oh-God-what-have-I-done fade away. His George Clooney eyes said I want you, while the laugh lines around his mouth indicated he wanted to play a bit first.