Chanel’s eyes were puffy and a little red. Apparently, this had taken more of a toll on her than I’d realized. She wore nothing but a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of tights.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, fine. Come in.”
I crossed the threshold, closed the door behind me then locked it again. “Are you sure? I know today was difficult.”
“You call putting Timothy in hospital difficult?”
“No. And I didn’t put him there,” I replied, and folded my arms. What was this attitude about? Usually, she was at least a little happy to see me, but she seemed tired and irritable tonight. “You know what? I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m exhausted, that’s all. I thought that being here would be the opportunity of a lifetime and its turning out to be the worst decision I’ve ever made.”
“Are you – tell me you’re kidding,” I said. I had stuck my neck out for her, after all. It wasn’t easy convincing Shepherd that a nineteen year old could take on a project this large, or that the project itself was even necessary.
Chanel walked to her bedroom window and looked out on the darkened shapes of trucks and utility vehicles. Lights illuminated the chain link fence encompassing the area. “It’s more complicated than I expected.”
“For you,” I said.
“Yes for me.” Her shoulders tensed up. “This isn’t just about you and your career, Ryan. I’m here too.”
“My career? What’s that got to do with it?”
“Oh come on, I know that you’re doing this in part because you want to look good to your superiors. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I just feel, I don’t know, I feel like I don’t belong here.”
“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” I replied. “A couple of hours ago you were excited about the presentation and the opportunity to prove yourself. Your words, not mine.”
“I was.”
“So what changed?” I couldn’t expect her to understand how things operated on a military base, but quitting wasn’t usually an option.
“Nothing,” she whispered, and bowed her head. She kept her back to me and frustration bubbled through my veins.
“Tell me.”
“Maybe I don’t want to,” she replied, then spun on the spot, hair flaring out behind her. “Are you sure it was Jack who hurt Timothy? And not – well, not anyone else?”
“Anyone else?” I blew out a thin stream of air. “Anyone else. Just ask me if I did it, kid, if that’s what you believe.”
“I don’t believe it. I just – my mom called me and she said that –”
“Oh your mom called you?” I stomped forward and halted right in front of her. “Oh, then it must be true, right? She’s a totally stable person.”
“Whatever.” She was gorgeous even in her anger, but it didn’t do anything for my own. God dammit, why couldn’t she trust me? I’d been a closed book, sure, but could she really expect me to spew my emotions all over the place. I wasn’t that person and I never would be.
“Well, I’ll leave you to sleep. Good evening.” I snapped around and made for the exit.
Chanel caught me by the forearm and tugged once. “Wait, Ryan, I’m sorry. I don’t think you did anything wrong, I’m stressed out is all. My mom phoned and said I have a day to finish up here or she’s going to close Scott’s Interiors.”
“What?” I looked back at her. The old lady had lost her mind.
“She’s worried about what everyone in town will think after what happened. They’re massing down there. They want to sign a petition to get rid of the base.”
When it rained, it poured in the Rocky Mountains, both literally and figuratively. This was the last thing I needed. I already had a fucking criminal under my watch, right down the hall from the woman I… I had sex with. “Okay, that’s fine. Thanks for the Intel.” I drew my arm from her grasp.
“Don’t leave,” she whispered. “Ryan, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I’m afraid. That’s the only reason I said any of that. I don’t believe you’re capable of hurting an innocent man.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and the faces of my men flashed through the darkness. Hurting an innocent man? I was responsible for the deaths of more than one.
“Please don’t go. I need you.”
I focused on her again. “You need me.”
“More than you know. I need your company. I need your body. Did anyone see you come in?”
“No,” I replied. “It’s late.” Too late for most folks who woke at the crack of dawn here.
“So, stay with me for a while.” Her bottom lip quivered. Chanel’s strength was still there, but it was frayed. “Please.”
I stroked her hair and cupped her cheek. “Everything will be fine. Your mother won’t take the store away from you. She’s not that crazy.”
“It’s her store. She can do what she wants with it, and when she does, I’ll be out of a job. I’ll be stuck in Meek Springs forever,” she whispered, and tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and raced down her pale, soft skin.
I kissed one and then the other, licking the saltiness from my lips. “Don’t cry,” I whispered. “Please, don’t.” It choked me up seeing those tears, and knowing that they were a product of my actions. If I’d never taken Jack into town, or if I hadn’t gone with him, or – stop it, that’s done. There’s nothing you can do to change it or take it back.
I stroked Chanel’s impossibly smooth cheeks, running my index finger down the bridge of her nose, then wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Don’t cry, baby.”
Chanel craned her neck and kissed the underside of my chin. “I need you,” she repeated. She kissed again, open mouthed, a trail down my neck to the collar of my uniform. “Ryan, I need you.”
“I’m right here,” I whispered, and clenched my teeth. “I’m here.”
“You know what I mean.” Chanel ran her hands down my torso and worked on the buttons of my shirt.
“If we do this –” Then what? It was hardly a new experience. We agreed it was physical and she operated within those boundaries. She hadn’t put pressure on me to step up emotionally, so why did I hesitate? Because although she might not have pressured me, I was already there.
I was falling for her. Shit, I’d already fallen.
I reached under the hem of her shirt and tugged the tights down her thighs.
She wormed herself out of them without stopping her mission to get my shirt open and off. Finally, she ripped my shirt back.
Cold air hit my torso, but I didn’t shiver. I grabbed her shirt and stripped it off, that special brand of heat we shared building. My dick was rock hard, already, throbbing against the inside of my pants.
The affect she had on me didn’t cease to amaze me. No one else made me this hot, this quickly.
Chanel kissed my chest and undid my belt, dragging it off. Then she unzipped my pants and dropped them.
We were fully naked in front of each other for the first time since we’d hooked up in the motel in Meek Springs. I traced the outline of her body, the curves of her hips, the ample breasts, with my gaze. I growled.
Christ, how could she be this perfect for me? I’d never had a perfect woman but she was it. I slapped both my hands on her ass cheeks and pulled her toward me, lifting her in both arms.
She held me by the neck, kissing me as I walked her to the bed.
I threw her onto it, then lowered myself on top of her, holding myself above her tight, delicious body, palms pressed against the standard issue Navy sheets. I sucked her bottom lip and inhaled her scent.
Soap, a hint of perfume, and that Chanel odor that filled my nostrils and drove me wild. I trail kissed down her chin, throat, and to her breasts. I forced them together in both hands, sucking the nipples and massaging her flesh.
She balled up her fists and beat them onto the mattress. “Yes,” she hissed. “More.”
I circled her puckered nipples, the tight pink areolas with my tongue, the same motion I’d used on her clit.
It drove her crazy. She dug her fingernails into my back and moaned, a little too loud.
“Quiet,” I hissed, then kissed a path back up to her lips. “Quiet, gorgeous.”
“Little hard.”
“Oh no,” I said, and took my dick in my hand, “it’s very hard.” I pressed my head into her moist, trembling folds, so ready for me. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I forced myself inside, all the way.
“Yes,” she said, again.
I sat up, still inside her, grabbed each of her legs and placed them on my shoulders. Lifted her ass, admiring the little pink clit peering up at me. I spat on it and she gasped.
“Ryan, you’re bad.”
And I’m yours. I pressed my thumb to her clit and circled it, using my spit as lubrication.
She arched her back and cried out again.
I bent forward, folding her almost in half, and placed my hand over her mouth. “Shush.”
She giggled against my palm. “Can’t help it.”
I plunged into her, one foot off the bed and braced for leverage. My free hand found her right leg and pressed it further back. I hit her exactly where she needed it, grazing against the spot inside her, causing her to yelp.
Chanel’s eyes widened, her eyelids fluttering with every thrust. “Come,” she said, against my palm.
I didn’t give her a reprieve. Just kept my hands on her mouth, and leg. I admired her pussy, my dick moving in and out of it, glistening from her wetness. I was so thick she looked ready to split.
She tightened around me, her breaths whistling from her nose, and against my skin. “Fuck,” she groaned. “Oh Ryan, oh Ryan.” Too loud again, but thankfully muffled. She climaxed and that warmth squeezed my cock, massaged it, over and over again.
“Christ,” I grunted. It was too much. “You’ve got such a tight pussy.”
Chanel threw her arms over her head and rolled through her climax, and I joined her. I pulsed and filled her again, even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want this to end. My dick throbbed hard, once, twice, fuck it, five more times.
It was the never-ending orgasm.
Chanel fell quiet and studied me, her fingers laced around my wrist now, stroking the skin.
Finally, it was over, and I let go of her leg, removing my hand from her mouth.
“You’re amazing,” she said.
I lay down beside her and ran my fingers over her left nipple. I love you. “So are you,” I said, out loud.
Chapter 23
Chanel
I walked back and forth in front of the desk in my tiny office and glanced at the screen again.
“Shit,” I grunted, “shit, shit, shit. Come on, Chanel, focus.” I’d spent the last half an hour pacing and messing up every line in the damn presentation. I had to be ready with this by the time the Commander popped in to check on my progress.
I needed to impress or everything I’d worked so hard for would end up a distant dream. A fantasy I’d never fulfill. The trouble was it was so damn hard to concentrate with the memory of Ryan on top of me, my leg pinned back.
The sun had barely risen and I’d already scooted out of my room, because staying in there meant smelling the heady scent of his cologne. And that would equal even less focus on my part.
“Come on, you can do this,” I whispered. I put together the presentation myself, I picked out all the colors and fabrics, I planned every room to a tee. I owed it to myself to succeed, especially with my mother breathing down my neck.
Okay, relax. Start from the top. Don’t think about Ryan and the swirly feelings in your gut. “Yeah, that helps.” I rolled my eyes at myself, then grabbed the lukewarm cup of coffee from the corner of my desk. I slurped some of it back.
I spotted Jameson passing my office door, choked and sprayed coffee over my carpet. “J-Jameson,” I coughed.
The Petty Officer did a double take and returned. “Miss Scott? Did you call me?” A small smile of acknowledgement. I couldn’t help admiring this woman. She had the muscle tone of a panther, and dark skin to match. She was a total stunner, but she kept her professionalism up no matter the situation.
Part of me wanted to believe I could’ve been like her, a member of the Navy, gosh, not the SEALs, and made my father proud. But that wasn’t the choice I made and my dad was probably happy about it, watching over me.
He wouldn’t have liked the thought of me in danger.
“Everything okay?”
I coughed into my fist. “Yeah, sorry. Coffee went down the wrong pipe,” I said.
“Sorry,” Jameson replied, then fumbled in her pocket for a pack of Kleenex. “Here, you’ve got some on your blouse.”
I took it from her and removed a tissue, dabbing at the spot and silently cursing my idiocy. “Thanks. I just wondered if you’d heard anything about the Commander coming to the base. I heard he was supposed to turn up some time this week.”
“Nothing yet, ma’am,” she replied. “Is there anything else?”
I hesitated. “No, I just – what do you make of it?”
“What, ma’am?”
“What happened with Petty Officer Whitmore and Timothy, you know? The civilian.” I didn’t believe Ryan had done it, but I still couldn’t figure out why Jack had.
It was Jameson’s turn to hesitate. She looked back into the hall, then entered my office and shut the door behind her. “That’s a complicated question,” she said. “If I talk to you about this I’d like it to remain between us.”
“Sure, no problem,” I replied. What was I going to do? Run to Ryan and blab everything Jameson had told me? I had some integrity left, thank you very much. “What do you want to say?”
“It’s, well, Whitmore has always had an attitude problem. I was a couple years behind him, but we’re equal rank. What does that tell you?”
“So he didn’t climb ranks fast enough? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Whitmore’s always been friends with the Lieutenant Commander, but once he outstripped Jack in rank things grew complicated. Whitmore hated that his old buddy was above him.”
“Why?” I’d have been happy for Paula if it so happened that she had a successful interior design store that outcompeted mine. That was the mature approach. Healthy competition, friendship. Gosh, if I could figure that out at 19, surely Whitmore could grasp it at 30.
“When they were in training, Whitmore was the popular one. He was the one who broke records and, when they got a break, he was the one who got all the girls. I don’t think the Lieutenant Commander was ever focused on that kind of thing, but Jack was and he thought he was better. He thought he was the best, to be precise.”
“But he wasn’t.”
“No,” Jameson said, bluntly. “He was a showboat and too lazy for his own good. He slacked off and this was the result. The Navy promotes those who serve tirelessly and show their dedication to our country. Whitmore didn’t do either of those things.”
“So you think he’s bitter.”
“Yes, and I think he’d do anything to get back at his old friend for outranking him,” Jameson said, then ran her fingers through her short hair. “Look, the only reason I’m telling you this is because I know you’re involved to some extent.”
I cleared my throat and focused on the current slide up on my laptop screen.
“There are rumors that the Lieutenant Commander might be interested in you, and that’s none of my business, but I figured they were true when I saw the way you reacted to the storm and his late arrival back at base.”
“We’re friends,” I said, and left out the ‘with benefits’ part. “That’s all.”
“Whatever suits you, ma’am. I think it would be remiss of me not to warn you about Jack. He’s going to try something.”
“What? How do you know?”
Jameson shook her head and looked away in a brief moment of uncertai
nty. “It’s just a feeling. Be safe, Miss Scott.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
Petty Officer Jameson bowed out of the office and shut the door behind her. It gave me the quiet I needed to run over things in my mind. Whether I wanted to or not, I’d developed -
My cell trilled and I jumped on the spot and knocked the empty mug off the edge of my desk. It dropped to the carpet with a thump, but thankfully, didn’t shatter. I picked up my phone, nerves hopping in the center of my chest. But it was just Paula, thank God.
I swiped my finger across the screen. “Hello?” I answered.
“Hey,” Paula said, and she didn’t sound as enthusiastic as usual. “How are you?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been better. How are you?”
“Fine. Bored. Ready to get home and have a glass of wine, then fall asleep watching Desperate Housewives or a rerun of Friends.”
“Sounds like Heaven to me,” I replied. I didn’t want to just dump all my problems on her the minute she called me. It wasn’t fair. “So, how are things at work?”
“Save it,” Paula said, and chuckled to soften the blow. “Listen, we both know why I’m calling you and it’s not to talk about work or my lack of love life.”
“It’s that dry, huh?”
“Like the fucking Sahara Desert, girl. Now, I want to know what’s going on up there,” Paula said, “because apparently everyone in Meek Springs is expected to sign some petition thingie to make the base in the mountain disappear.”
“Yeah, I heard about that. Mom called me.”
“God help you,” Paula said.
“Did you sign it?”
“Hell no, I didn’t sign it. I’m not putting my name to that piece of trash idea. God, the people here are so dumb. Like, they can’t understand that maybe one of the officers was a total dick, not all the officers.”
“It was Whitmore,” I said. “It wasn’t Ryan.”
“What, who practically murdered Timothy? Yeah, I heard. Anyway, I don’t care what these assholes say or do. Do you know, Jerry threatened to egg my apartment if I didn’t sign?” Paula clicked her tongue as if it was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. “My counteroffer was a kick in the nuts. He shut up real quick.”
Protecting Her Heart Page 56
