Terms of Surrender

by Leslie Kelly

  He looked at her face, flushing redder by the minute, and the truth exploded into his brain like a lightning bolt.

  “Oh, shit.”

  She dropped her eyes.

  “I’m on there, aren’t I?”

  “Not by name, description, rank or address,” she whispered. “There’s absolutely nothing that would give away your identity, Danny, I promise. Nobody who read it would ever know I was talking about you.”

  “Except me,” he replied.

  She nodded weakly.

  “Uh, dare I guess when these particular blog posts went up?”

  Her silence was answer enough.

  Mari had obviously sounded off about her anger when she thought she’d been used and ditched. The cyber world must have gotten an earful during those two weeks after their first amazing night together. She’d probably taken the girl-bitch-session to a whole new level and undoubtedly made him the target of disdain for a whole lot of single women.

  “I guess I should be glad they can’t identify me,” he mumbled. “I’d hate to think I have to constantly be looking over my shoulder, worried a feminist hit squad is on my tail.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded, believing her, trying to analyze his feelings about this. On the surface of it, he was a little concerned, embarrassed. On a deeper level, he could only wonder how very upset she must have been to take her anger public.

  He hated that he’d hurt her that way. And he never wanted to do it again.

  Seeing her trepidation, knowing she was waiting for him to react, he reached across the table and twined his fingers in hers. “It’s okay, I’m not upset.”

  She made no effort to hide her relief. “Really?”

  “Really.” Then, realizing something, he added, “You know, you could have just deleted those entries, but you didn’t.”

  “That’s cowardly.”

  “True, but understandable, now that we’re…” He didn’t say dating, or lovers, or crazy about each other. Honestly, he didn’t know how to describe what they were. So he simply said, “Together. I might never have known about them, but you came clean. I appreciate that.”

  “Thank you for being so understanding. I promise, I won’t do it again. I’ve already instituted a much more close-mouthed policy on the blog.”

  He reached for a bread stick, offering her a sly look. “You mean you haven’t gone back on there and told them you’ve been shagged to within an inch of your life this week?”

  She gave him that look—that warm, sensual look that told him where her mind had gone. “You mean, I still have an inch left?”

  He gave as good as he got. “You can have as many inches as you want.”

  Her eyes closed and her lips parted on a breath. She shifted a little in her chair, and he’d guarantee she’d been just as instantly hit with desire as he’d been.

  “I could use a lot,” she whispered. “I could use them right now, as a matter of fact. Damn, I should have worn panties tonight.”

  His hand tightened reflexively, and the bread stick snapped in half. “Don’t,” he warned her.

  She didn’t reply in words. Instead she shifted her leg under the table, until it brushed against his, her soft calf pressing against his firm one. Blood and heat roared through him at the thought of how beautiful those thighs were, how much he loved having them wrapped around his hips. At the idea that, once again, she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath her pretty green sundress.

  “You’re evil,” he told her.

  “Oh, no, I’m not. Give me a chance and I’ll show you how nice I can be.”

  He glanced at the table, holding only their empty glasses and a bread basket. They hadn’t even placed their dinner order yet. “What kind of date would I be if I suggested ditching this place and grabbing a pizza on the way home?”

  “How about you dine on me, instead?”

  That was it. The end. Any hunger for food disappeared, as did worries about whether this had been enough of a real date for her. Without a word, he rose from his chair, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and peeled a fifty out of it, figuring that ought to cover two drinks, even in a place this swanky.

  She shoved the books back in the gift bag, swooped it up and put her hand in his outstretched one. They walked quickly out of the restaurant, straight to his car, which was parked in a small lot behind the building. It was dark, crowded with vehicles, but, as far as he could see, no people.

  “I can’t wait. I’ve got to kiss you,” he told her as soon as they both got in and shut the doors.

  She did him one better, sliding over from the passenger seat onto his lap. Danny reached for the seat release and slid it back as far as it would go, making room for her to straddle his thighs. At the feel of that womanly warmth pressed against the seam of his pants, he jerked up, watching her mouth fall open in a pleased little cry.

  Then that beautiful mouth was on his, kissing him deeply. She tasted sweet and fruity—like the drink—and their tongues swirled and tangled together as if they couldn’t drink enough. Every thrust of their tongues was matched by one of their bodies as they mimicked the deep, sultry sex they both craved, and could be having, if not for a couple of layers of material.

  Oh, and the possibility of an arrest for indecent exposure.

  “We shouldn’t…”

  “Yes, we should,” she insisted. Then, like Eve the temptress herself, she reached down and pulled her dress up to her waist, leaning back a little so he could see.

  Panties.

  “You lied to me?” he asked, pretending to be offended.

  Her wicked smile told him she had a secret, and when she guided his hand to the seam of her silky white underwear, he realized what it was. A tiny metal tab at the top told him there was a zipper holding the undergarment together between her luscious thighs. When unzipped, it would offer complete access to all the lovely secrets between them.

  “It’s not even my birthday and I get to unwrap two presents tonight?” he whispered, unable to resist tugging that zipper down, slowly, carefully. He just wanted a tiny sample, a brief touch. He’d find that sweet little clit of hers, pleasure her, which would pleasure him, then get them out of here.

  But when he moved the tab all the way down and slid his fingers into the slit, he realized he needn’t have worried about catching her pretty curls with the zipper’s teeth. Because there weren’t many of them left, just a tiny tuft right above her pubis.

  Heat and lust exploded in him when he felt the bare lips of her sex, creamy, plump and swollen. “You gotta be kidding me…”

  Her eyes gleamed with wantonness as she stared down at him, licking her lips. “I hear oral sex is amazing like this.”

  Oh, man, did he want to find out. He’d love to drop his seat all the way back into a reclining position, sit her on his face, and feast on her for an hour. But that was crazy, risky, dangerous. It was wild enough to have her on his lap, with her dress covering most of what was going on below the waist. No way could he devour her the way he wanted to.

  “Please,” she whispered, riding him a little harder.

  “This is nuts.”

  “There is nobody around,” she insisted, casting another glance around the lot, dark with shadows and utterly devoid of sound.

  “Just an appetizer before the drive home,” he insisted, knowing he couldn’t possibly resist her.

  She appeared triumphant as she reached for his pants, unzipping and releasing him. He jerked into her palm, thrilled by the coolness of her skin against his hot, rock-hard dick. Then she moved over it, rubbing all that slick bareness over him, wetting him with her body’s arousal.

  Danny groaned, awash with sensation as skin touched skin. He was dying for her, desperate for a quick thrust. Just one…two, max. Then we’ll go.

  “I’ve got this covered,” she told him when he reached for his pocket. “Did you know they still make diaphragms?”

  “Thank God,” he muttered, even more excited
at the thought of being inside her with no barrier at all.

  And then he was. Mari settled back onto him, the loose skirt of her dress draped almost modestly over them both, and sunk onto his cock in one slow, steady motion. He wrapped his arms around her waist, caressing the soft skin of her back, revealed by the sundress. It felt so good, so very good. Though part of him wanted to pound and writhe, he also wanted to savor the moment. So he remained still, looking up at her, noting the utter bliss on her face. Marissa Marshall was beautiful anytime, but right now, she looked absolutely ethereal.

  She sighed with pleasure, then opened her eyes and looked down at him. “Mmm.”

  He nodded, shifting his hips a little, drawing another soft groan from deep in her throat. Lifting his hands to her hair, he rubbed its silkiness, and drew her down to him so they could kiss again. Despite their frenzy of a few minutes ago, now that they were joined, they both seemed content to go slow, easy. He kissed her gently on the lips, then moved his mouth to her jaw, her neck, to the lobe of her ear. Each gentle kiss was accompanied by a tender stroke, a soft thrust.

  “Sweet,” she murmured.

  He understood the reaction. It was sweet, tender, something to savor rather than race through. Which was just crazy considering they were sitting in a parked car in a public parking lot.

  But right now, holding her, feeling her wrapped around him, he honestly didn’t care. And neither did she. They just continued to make love right there, oblivious to all the rest of the world. Until, finally, she whimpered her release, and he let go, too, filling her with every ounce of himself.

  10

  Wednesday 6/1/11, 07:00 a.m.

  www.mad-mari.com/2011/06/01/June

  Happy June!

  Unlike when I said in December that it was my favorite month because of Christmas, or when I said it was March, because my birthday’s in March and I always get to drink green beer, June really is my favorite month.

  Summer has started to spring up, but the evenings are still a little cool, the days aren’t boiling hot, and all the flowers are still in bloom. Plus…those damned stink bugs haven’t shown up yet. Yippie! (Come August, you’ll be hearing me rant about those rotten little buggers.)

  As I mentioned yesterday, I am kinda busy this week. The temp/part-time job continues later this morning. As you know, I was off on Monday for Memorial Day…and oh, what a memorable day it was!

  Hey, did I happen to tell you guys that I came clean to Mr. Perfect about this blog? I warned him about what was on here, and he promised he wouldn’t peek. But, uh, just in case…hey, Mr. Perfect? You’re peeking!

  And if he does happen to show up, be gentle, okay?

  I know you all know how to play nice.

  Well, some of you.

  John L. from Wyoming, you really need to find another hobby, dear. The threatening emails didn’t work. The love letters you’re sending me now aren’t, either. And no. I will NEVER tell you where I live so we can “meet up for drinks.” I’m mouthy…not stupid.

  Bye y’all!

  Mari

  P.S. What’s love feel like? (Damn, now I really hope Mr. Perfect isn’t peeking!) Discuss!

  Friday 6/3/11, 07:00 a.m.

  www.mad-mari.com/2011/06/03/Payday!

  I got my first paycheck!

  It’s not a fortune, but it’s pretty damn good for a part-time gig.

  Hey, guess what: I’m going to a fancy-schmancy party tomorrow night. Guess I’d better leave my Mad-Mari mouth at home, huh?

  So, what’s up for your weekend?

  P.S. Bad Date Friday—I haven’t forgotten! Last week’s “great date” discussion was nice and sweet…and boring. So come on, bring back the bad stuff. Ready? Set? GO!

  “DO I LOOK OKAY?”

  Her hands out to her sides, Marissa pirouetted, showing off the flared bottom of her black dress, which wisped and fluttered around her bare legs. On the couch, her brother, Adam, who dressed better than she did any day of the week, eyed her with approval.

  Adam, who lived near D.C., had come up to visit today, and could always be relied on to give good advice about clothes. He had far better taste than she did, and had been the one to pick out this dress. He’d dragged her out shopping this afternoon when he’d heard that she had a date tonight.

  “Fantastic,” he told her, grinning widely, his handsome face radiating his excitement for her. “You’re gonna knock this guy’s socks off.”

  Well, it sure wouldn’t be the first time she’d knocked Danny out of his clothes. Boy, howdy, had she ever. More times than she could remember now…and she was nowhere close to being tired of it. She honestly didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of being intimate with the man.

  Probably because it was intimate. It wasn’t just body-rocking, earth-shaking sex—though, heaven knew, they’d definitely had that. But there was also such sweetness, emotion. Sometimes Danny didn’t seem to want to leave her body, even after he came. He’d caress her gently, kiss her hair, stroke her cheek, whisper sweet words until they would fall asleep, still joined. And invariably, she would wake up to find him thick and hard, bringing her to insane heights of pleasure all over again.

  To think—two short weeks ago, Marissa had been sure she’d never see Danny again. She’d thought she’d had the best sex of her life with somebody whose last name she would never even know; that it was all behind her. And now, here she was, thoroughly satisfied, deliciously sore from all their love-making, putting on her pretty new dress, getting ready to go with him to a semi-formal dance.

  “I still can’t believe you’re dating a sailor.”

  “Naval Aviator.”

  “Whatever,” Adam said with a wave of his hand. “You, who swore you’d never give the time of day to any guys in uniform. Going to a dance on a base…without having been tied up, gagged and dragged there.”

  “I know,” she muttered. “It’s crazy.”

  A part of her—the part that longed to be held in Danny’s strong arms while they swayed together to some soft, sultry music—was actually looking forward to it. But a bigger part—the part that remembered that whole military lifestyle her family had lived—wanted to run like hell.

  She tried not to tense up when thinking about it. Tried not to recall the screaming fights her parents would have after coming home late from some social event, where her sobbing mother would accuse her father of having disappeared with some junior officer’s wife for a half hour. Then her father would counter that she was, as usual, being melodramatic and ridiculous. And Mari would open her door to her sister and brothers, who would, one by one, creep into her room and crawl into her bed. Huddled under the covers, the four of them would try desperately not to hear, occasionally able to drown out the actual words but never the angry, hurt voices.

  Mari was firmly against infidelity, but sometimes she could understand why her mother had chosen to get even by going down the what’s-good-for-the-goose-is-good-for-the-gander road. The woman had been driven to it by a lifetime of hurt and humiliation. But walking out not just on her faithless husband, but her own kids? Not looking back, not once, not ever?

  No. That she couldn’t see at all. How awful must the woman’s life have been to drive her to it?

  “You sure you’re okay?” Adam asked, as always intuitive to her feelings. Usually cheerful and happy-go-lucky, confident about his sexuality and not one bit ashamed of his lifestyle, he was the most perceptive person she knew.

  “I guess,” she muttered, unable to stop a tiny wince as she let the dark thoughts creep into her mind.

  “Don’t,” he ordered, his smile fading, and a stern-but-tender note appearing in his voice.

  “Don’t what?”

  Rolling his eyes, he got up from the couch and came over to straighten the seam running down her back. “Don’t compare this to them.”

  She didn’t have to ask who he meant.

  “You’re nothing like her, and no way would you go out with anybody like him.”

  S
he knew he was right, logically. Logically.

  Emotionally was another story. She didn’t even know her mother anymore, so she couldn’t be sure whether she was like her or not. Marissa hadn’t had a real, genuine conversation with the woman in fifteen years, ever since her mom had hooked up with a diplomat while the family had been stationed in Germany, and left to be with him. An occasional phone call or, nowadays, an email, wasn’t exactly a prime opportunity to get to know somebody.

  Or to ask them why they abandoned you to an emotionless father in a foreign country.

  She wasn’t close to her father, and she never would be. Still, damn it, she gave him props for sticking around. He’d been stern and cold, but he’d been there, every day, providing them with food and shelter, trying to show up for school events when his schedule allowed. He’d been a shit as a husband, but he’d always been the best father he knew how to be—which wasn’t great. But at least he’d tried.

  The whole situation still gave her a headache when she thought about it.

  “Stop,” Adam said, swatting her on the butt. “I mean it!”

  “Sorry. I guess I’m getting cold feet. Going to one of these events, where the men stick their chests out to emphasize their medals, and the wives drink too much and share all the latest gossip in their small, incestuous society, doesn’t really appeal.”

  Danny, however, appealed to her tremendously.

  “This guy must be really special to make it worthwhile.”

  “He is,” she admitted.

  Adam turned to go back to the couch, bending down to resume a game of fetch with Brionne, then innocently murmured, “So I guess you really have forgiven him for not calling for those two weeks.”

  Mari groaned. “You told me you never visit my blog.”

  A shrug lifting his shoulders, he replied, “I lied. I love it—it’s my first stop every day. Believe me, I did not like watching your sad-sack meltdown after this guy bailed on you.”

  Sad-sack. Yes. She had been. How utterly embarrassing. God, did she ever hope Danny had kept his promise not to go there and scour through the archives.