"Colleen," he said. Despite his attempts to sound calm, there was a tightness to his voice. "Please don't tell me you sleep with your windows unlocked."
She laughed. "All right," she said. "I won't tell you."
Bobby heard himself make a strangled sound.
"You know, if you want me to be really, absolutely safe, you could come over," she told him. "Although, you've got air-conditioning over there, don't you? So you should really ask me to come to the hotel. I could take a cab and be there in five minutes."
He managed a word this time. "Colleen..."
"Okay," she said. "Right. Never mind. It's a terrible idea. Forget it. Just forget about the fact that I'm here, sitting on my bed, all alone, and that you're just a short mile away, sitting on yours, presumably also all alone. Forget about the fact that kissing you is on my list of the five most wonderful things I've ever done in my life and—"
Oh, man.
"I can't do it," he said, giving up on not trying to sound
as desperate as he felt. "Dammit, even if you weren't Wes's sister, I'm only here for a few more days. That's all I could give you. I can't handle another long-distance relationship right now. I can't do that to myself."
"I'll take the days," she said. "Day. Make it singular if you want. Just once. Bobby—"
"I can't do that to you." But oh, sweet heaven, he wanted to. He could be at her place in five minutes. Less, One kiss, and he'd have her clothes off. Two, and... Oh, man.
"I want to know what it's like." Her voice was husky, intimate across the phone line, as if she were whispering in his ear, her breath hot against him. "Just once. No strings, Bobby. Come on..."
Yeah, no strings—except for the noose Wes would tie around his neck when he found out.
Wes, who'd left a message for Bobby on his hotel voice mail...
"Hey, Bobby! Word is Alpha Squad's heading back to Little Creek in a few days to assist Admiral Robinson's Gray Group in Tulgeria as part of some kind of civilian protection gig. Did you set that up, man? Let me guess, Leenie dug in her heels, so you called the Jakester. Brilliant move, my friend. It would be perfect—if Spaceman wasn't being such a total jerk out here on my end.
"He's making all this noise about finally getting to meet Colleen. Remember that picture you had of her? It was a few months ago. I don't know where you got it, but Spaceman saw it and wouldn't stop asking about her. Where does she go to school? How old is she? Yada-yada-yada, on and on about her hair, her eyes, her smile. Give me a break! As if I'd ever let a SEAL within twenty-five feet of her— not even an officer and alleged gentleman like Spaceman, no way. Look, I’ll call you when we get into Little Creek, In the meantime, stick close to her, all right? Put the fear
of God or the U.S. Navy into any of those college jerks sniffing around her, trying to get too close. Thanks again for everything, Bobby. I hope your week hasn't been too miserable."
Miserable wasn't even close. Bobby had left misery behind a long time ago.
"Maybe we should have phone sex," Colleen suggested.
"What?" Bobby dropped the receiver. He moved fast and caught it before it bounced twice. "No!"
She was laughing at him again. "Ah, come on. Where's your sense of adventure, Taylor? What are you wearing? Isn't that the way you're supposed to start?"
"Colleen—"
She lowered her voice. "Don't you want to know what I've got on?"
"No. I have to go now." Bobby closed his eyes and didn't hang up the phone. Yes. Oh, man.
"My nightgown," she told him, her voice even softer. Slightly breathy now. Deep and husky, her voice was unbelievable even when she wasn't trying to give him a heart attack. Right now, she was trying, and it was pure sex. "It's white. Cotton." She left long pauses between her words, as if giving him plenty of time to picture her. "Sleeveless. It's got buttons down the front, and the top one fell off a long time ago, leaving it a little...daring, shall we say? It's old—nice and soft and a little worn-out."
He knew that nightgown. He'd seen it hanging on the back of her bathroom door the last time he and Wes had visited. He'd touched it by mistake when he'd come out of the shower, thinking it was his towel. It wasn't. It was very soft to the touch.
Her body, beneath it, would be even softer.
"Want me to guess what you're wearing?" she asked.
Bobby couldn't speak.
"A towel," she said. "Just a towel. Because I bet you
just showered. You like to shower at night to cool down before you go to bed, right? If I touched you," her voice dropped another notch, "your skin would be clean and cool and smooth.
"And your hair's down—it's probably still a little damp, too. If I were there, I'd brush it out for you. I'd kneel behind you on the bed and—"
"If you were here," Bobby said, interrupting her, his voice rough to his own ears, "you wouldn't be brushing my hair."
"What would I be doing?" she shot back at him.
Images bombarded him. Colleen, flashing him her killer smile just before she lowered her head and took him into her mouth. Colleen, lying back on his bed, hair spread on his pillows, breasts peaked with desire, waiting for him, welcoming him as he came to her. Colleen, head back as she straddled him, as he filled her, hard and fast and deep and—
Reality intervened. Phone sex. Dear sweet heaven. What was she doing to him? Beneath the towel—yes, she was right about the towel he wore around his waist—he was completely aroused.
"What would you be doing? You'd be calling a cab to take you home," he told her.
"No, I wouldn't. I'd kiss you," she countered, "and you'd pick me up and carry me to your bed."
"No, I wouldn't," he lied. "Colleen, I have...I really have to go now. Really."
"Your towel would drop to the floor," she said, and he couldn't make himself hang up the phone, both dreading and dying to hear what she would say next. "And after you put me down, you'd let me look at you." She drew in a breath, and it caught—a soft little gasp that made him ache from wanting her. "I think you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."
He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. "I think you're crazy." His voice cracked.
"No. Oh, your shoulders are so wide, and your chest and arms...mmmmm." She made a sound deep in her throat that was so sexy he was sure he was going to die.
Stop this. Now. Somehow he couldn't make his lips form the words.
"And the muscles in your stomach, leading down to..." She made another sound, a sigh, this time. "Do you know how incredibly good you look naked? There's...so much of you. I'm a little nervous, but you smile at me, and your eyes are so soft and beautiful, I know you'd never hurt me."
Bobby stood up. His sudden, jerky movement was reflected in the mirror above the dresser, on the other side of the dimly lit room. He looked ridiculous standing there, his towel tenting out in front of him.
He must've made some anguished noise, because she quieted him. "Shhh. It's okay."
But it wasn't. Nothing about this was okay. Still, he couldn't hang up. He couldn't make her stop.
He couldn't stand the sight of himself like that, standing there like some absurd, pathetic clown, and he took the towel off, flinging it across the room. Only now he stood there naked. Naked and aching for someone he couldn't have. Not really.
"After I look at you for a long time..." Her voice was musical. Seductive. He could have listened to her read a phone book and gotten turned on. This was driving him mad. "I unbutton my nightgown. I've got nothing on underneath, nothing at all, and you know it. But you don't rush me. You just sit back and watch. One button at a time.
"Finally, I'm done, but...I'm shy." She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was very
small. "I'm afraid you won't...like me." She was serious. She honestly thought—
"Are you kidding? I love your body," Bobby told her. "I dream about you wearing that nightgown. I dream about—"
Oh, my God. What was he doing?
"Oh
, tell me," she breathed. "Please, Bobby, tell me what you dream."
"What do you think I dream?" he asked harshly, angry at her, angry at himself, knowing he still wasn't man enough to hang up the phone and end this, even though he knew damn well that he should. "I dream exactly what you're describing right now. You in my bed." His voice caught on his words. "Ready for me."
"I am," she told him. "Ready for you. Completely. You're still watching, so I...I touch myself—where I'm dying for you to touch me."
She made a noise that outdid all of the other noises she'd been making, and Bobby nearly started to cry. Oh, man, he couldn't do this. This was Wes's sister on the other end of this phone. This was wrong.
He turned his back to the mirror, unable to look at his reflection.
"Please," she gasped, "oh, please, tell me what you dream when you dream about me."
Oh, man. "Where did you learn to do this?" He had to know.
"I didn't," she said breathlessly. "I'm making it up as I go along. You want to know what I dream about you?"
No. Yes. It didn't matter. She didn't wait for him to answer.
"My fantasy is that the doorbell rings, and you're there when I answer it. You don't say anything. You just come inside and lock the door behind you. You just look at me and I know. This is it. You want me.
"And then you kiss me, and it starts out so slowly, so delicately, but it builds and it grows and it takes over everything—the whole world gets lost in the shadow of this one amazing kiss. You touch me and I touch you, and I love touching you, but I can't get close enough, and somehow you know that, and you make my clothes disappear. And you still kiss me and kiss me, and you don't stop kissing me until I'm on my back on my bed, and you're—" her voice dropped to a whisper "—inside of me."
"That's what I dream," Bobby whispered, too, struggling to breathe. "I dream about being inside you." Hell. He was going to burn in hell for saying that aloud.
Her breath was coming in gasps, too. "I love those dreams," she told him. "It feels so good..."
"Yes..."
"Oh, please," she begged. "Tell me more...."
Tell her... When he closed his eyes, he could see Colleen beneath him, beside him, her body straining to meet his, her breasts filling his hands and his mouth, her hair a fragrant curtain around his face, her skin smooth as silk, her mouth soft and wet and delicious, her hips moving in rhythm with his....
But he could tell her none of that. He couldn't even begin to put it into words.
"I dream of touching you," he admitted hoarsely. "Kissing you. Everywhere." It was woefully inadequate, compared to what she'd just described.
But she sighed as if he'd given her the verbal equivalent of the Hope Diamond.
So he tried again, even though he knew he shouldn't. He stood there, listening to himself open his mouth and say things he shouldn't say to his best friend's sister.
"I dream of you on top of me." His voice sounded distant and husky, thick with desire and need. Sexy. Who would have thought he'd be any good at this? "So I can
watch your face, Colleen." He dragged out her name, taking his time with it, loving the way it felt in his mouth, on his tongue. Colleen. "So I can look into your eyes, your beautiful eyes. Oh, I love looking into your eyes, Colleen, while you..."
"Oh, yes," she gasped. "Oh, Bobby, oh—"
Oh, man.
Chapter
Just after midnight the phone rang.
Colleen picked it up on the first ring, knowing it was Bobby, knowing that he wasn't calling for a replay of what they'd just done.
Pretended to do.
Sort of.
She didn't bother even to say hello. "Are you okay?"
He'd been so freaked out earlier that she'd made up an excuse to get off the phone, thinking he needed time alone to get his heart and lungs working again.
But now she was wondering if that hadn't been a mistake. Maybe what he'd really needed was to talk.
"I don't know," he answered her. "I'm trying to figure out which level of hell I'm going to be assigned to."
"He's able to make a joke," Colleen said. "Should I take that as a good sign?"
"I wasn't joking. Dammit, Colleen, I can't do that ever again. I can't. I shouldn't have even—"
"All right," she said. "Look, Guilt Man, let it go. I steamrolled over you. You didn't stand a chance. Besides, it's not as if it was real."
"No?" he said. "That's funny, because from this end, it sounded pretty authentic."
"Well, yeah," she said. "Sure. On a certain level it was. But the truth is, your participation was nice, but it wasn't necessary. All I ever really have to do is think about you. If you want to know the truth, this isn't the first time I've let my fantasies of you and me push me over the edge—"
"Oh, my God, don't tell me that!"
"Sorry." Colleen made herself stop talking. She was making this worse, telling him secrets that made her blush when she stopped to think about it. But his feelings of guilt were completely unwarranted.
"I've got to leave," he told her, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady. "I have to get out of here. I've decided—I'm going down to Little Creek early. I'll be back in a few days, with the rest of Alpha Squad."
With Wes.
One step forward, two steps back.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't go into detail with my brother about—"
"I'm going to tell him that I didn't touch you. Much. But that I wanted to."
"Because it's not like I make a habit of doing that— phone sex, I mean. And since you obviously didn't like it, I'm not going to—"
"No," he interrupted her. "You know, if I'm Guilt Man, then you're Miss Low Self-Esteem. How could you even think I didn't like it? I loved it. Every excruciating minute. You are unbelievably hot, and you completely killed me. If you got one of those numbers, you could make a fortune, but you damn well better not."
"You loved it, but you don't want to do it again?"
Bobby was silent on the other end of the line, and Colleen waited, heart in her throat.
“It's not enough," he finally said.
"Come over," she said, hearing her desire coat her voice. "Please. It's not too late to—"
"I can't."
"I don't understand why not. If you want me, and I want you, why can't we get together? Why does this have to be so hard?"
"If we were a pair of rabbits, sure," Bobby said. "It would be simple. But we're not, and it's not. This attraction between us...it's all mixed up with what I want, which is not to get involved with someone who lives three thousand miles away from me, and with what I want for you, which is for you to live happily ever after with a good man who loves you, and children if you want them, and a career that makes you jump out of bed with pleasure and excitement every single morning for the rest of your life. And if that's not complicated enough, there's also what I know Wes wants for you—which is more than just a man who loves you, but someone who will take care of you, too. Someone who's not in the Teams, someone who's not even in the Navy. Someone who can buy you presents and vacations and houses and cars without having to get a bank loan. Someone who'll be there, every morning, without fail."
"He also wants to make sure that I don't have any fun at all, the hypocrite. Making noise about how I have to wait until I'm married, when he's out there getting it on with any and every woman he can."
"He loves you," Bobby told her. "He's scared you'll end up pregnant and hating your life. Abandoned by some loser. Or worse—tied to some loser forever."
"As if I'd sleep with a loser."
Bobby laughed softly. "Yeah, well, I think I might fall into Wes's definition of a loser, so yes, you would."
"Ho," Colleen said. "Who's Mr. Low Self-Esteem now?"
"Wes's definition," he said again. "Not necessarily mine."
"Or mine," she countered. "It's definitely not mine."
"So, okay," he told her. "We toss the fact that I want to make love to you for about seventy-two h
ours straight into that mess of what you want and I want and Wes wants. Boom. What happens upon impact? You get lucky, I get lucky, which would probably be transcendental—no, not probably, definitely. So that's great...or is it? Because all I can see, besides the immediate gratification of us both getting off, is a boatload of pain.
"I risk getting too...I don't know, attached to someone who lives three thousand miles away from me.
"I risk my relationship with your brother....
"You risk your relationship with your brother....
"You risk losing any opportunities that might be out there of actually meeting someone special, because you're messing around with me."
Maybe you're the special one. Colleen didn't dare say it aloud. He obviously didn't think so.
"I've got a flight into Norfolk that leaves Logan just after hours," he said quietly. "I'm going into the Relief Aid office in the morning. I've got a meeting set up at hours to talk about the security we're going to be providing in Tulgeria—and what we expect from your group in terms of following the rules we set up. I figured you'd want to sit in on that."
"Yeah," Colleen said. "I'll be there." And how weird was that going to be—meeting his eyes for the first time since they'd...since she'd... She took a deep breath. "I'll borrow a truck, after, and give you a lift to the airport."
"That's okay. I'll take the T." He spoke quickly.
"What, are you afraid I'm going to jump you, right there in the truck, in the airport's short-term parking lot?"
"No," he said. He laughed, but it was grim instead of amused. "I'm afraid I'm going to jump you. From here on in, Colleen, we don't go anywhere alone."
"But—"
"I'm sorry. I don't trust myself around you."
"Bobby—"
"Good night, Colleen."
"Wait," she said, but he'd already hung up.
One step forward, two steps back.
Suzanne Brockmann - Team Ten 10 - Taylor's Temptation Page 12
