Encounter with a Commanding Officer

by Charlotte Hawkes

  She felt Ash tug her gently to the side as the doors pinged open and an elderly couple shuffled inside, smiling kindly at them.

  ‘Lovely evening.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Ash agreed, his voice admirably clear. ‘Which floor?’

  Her own throat tight, Fliss tried to force a smile to her lips instead. For years she’d wondered what it must feel like when other kids had lamented sneaking a boyfriend to their bedroom only for a parent to walk in. She suspected it felt a little like she was feeling now.

  ‘Fifth floor, please.’

  The same as theirs.

  Fliss didn’t dare glance at Ash. She felt as though she was trapped in some kind of farce and she’d never felt so overwhelmed by frustrated longing before. Just another tiny detail which set the night apart from any other she’d ever experienced.

  The lift sped upwards. The silence almost cloying, though no one else appeared to notice.

  ‘Have you been enjoying yourselves?’

  A gurgle of laughter bubbled up inside Fliss. Only Ash’s arm, offering her silent support, allowed her to control it.

  ‘Very pleasant, thank you,’ he responded politely. ‘The carnival in the local town was particularly impressive. Have you seen it?’

  Smooth and polite, she was impressed. Her own brain was barely functioning it was so overcome with lust. As the couple enthused about the carnival, Fliss fought to regain some semblance of self-control. It was only when the lift reached their floor and the couple stepped out at a snail’s pace that the giggle bubbled up again.

  Her shoulders shook with smothered laughter as she and Ash kept back. Even his unruffled air didn’t help her. How could he be so unconcerned when she felt so on edge? It didn’t help that she didn’t know what they were supposed to do now. Go to his room? Go to hers? Each go to their own?

  It was only when the elderly pair stopped next to her room, fumbling with the keycard with only a fraction less dexterity than Fliss herself had displayed earlier, that Ash broke contact with her to go to their aid, unlocking their door with ease and shrugging off their gushing thanks as he held the door open whilst they shuffled inside.

  Uncertain of herself, Fliss lurched to her own bedroom door and tried to retrieve her card from her purse, her fumbling hands hampering her efforts.

  ‘My room,’ Ash muttered, startling her as he grabbed her hand and tugged her past the linen cupboard and to his own door, deftly opening it and hauling her inside. ‘Your headboard backs right onto their wall.’

  As the door closed behind them, Fliss finally let go of the mildly hysterical laugh she’d been suppressing. It took her a few moments before she realised, to her surprise, that Ash was laughing too. Their eyes locked for a moment, only making them laugh all the more. As he sank onto the edge of the bed, Fliss leaned on the wall, letting the moment of humour release some pent-up tension.

  ‘We couldn’t have timed that any worse,’ Ash joked, eventually sobering up.

  ‘I know.’ She shook her head. ‘But I didn’t think you were bothered.’

  ‘Are you kidding? I felt like a frustrated teenager all over again.’

  She bit her lip in disbelief. ‘I thought it was just me.’

  He shot her an arch look.

  ‘It definitely wasn’t just you. I’m just glad I have more self-control than I had as a teenager.’

  ‘Well, you certainly have that.’

  ‘Barely, where you’re concerned.’ His husky voice fired her body up in a flash. The earlier heat couldn’t course through her veins fast enough, and then he reached out a hand to her.

  ‘Come here.’

  She was only too happy to comply as he hooked his fingers into her waistband and pulled her to him. His fingers skimmed up her body and, before she realised what was happening, he had undone the tie at the back of her neck and the halter-neck had dropped down to reveal her bare breasts.

  ‘Perfect,’ he breathed reverently, cupping them with his hands. ‘Just as I imagined.’

  She gasped as he leaned forward to draw one taut peak into his mouth. Exquisite torture. Her entire body felt as if it were on fire for him. But there was something else too. The moment of levity had created another thread between them, and they both knew it.

  Just sex, remember? Fliss berated herself as she wound her fingers through his hair, instinctively letting her head fall back as she pushed her aching nipple against his skilful tongue.

  Her heart gave another kick as he settled her on his lap, one leg either side, her knees resting on the bed. He was nestled perfectly between her legs, his erection straining against the fabric towards her, making her feel sexy and powerful. Suddenly, she was gripped by the impulse to take charge. To pleasure him. To make Ash spin out of control for her, the same way she had for him back on the hillside.

  ‘You’ve had your fun,’ she croaked. ‘Now I’m having some.’

  Catching him off guard, she pushed him back on the bed and concentrated on divesting Ash of his shirt.

  ‘You’re telling me you weren’t already?’ he challenged smugly.

  Her heart raced. Feeling all fingers and thumbs, she grappled awkwardly with the buttons. She needed to distract him before he noticed.

  ‘A different kind of fun.’ She used her best seductive tone before leaning down to brush her lips against his, deliberately grazing his shirt-clad chest with her nipples.

  Ash’s eyes dilated with desire and she felt another kick of adrenalin. She doubted he let many women take charge over him.

  Finally, to her relief, the last fastening slid from its soft anchorage and she pushed the garment off his broad shoulders, which she’d hungered to touch like this ever since that day in the supply room. Fliss lowered her body again to taste his mouth with hers, revelling in the sensation of her nipples grazing over the smattering of hair on his bare chest. His erection twitched against her again, almost making her forget her plan.

  Almost.

  She rained tiny kisses down on his lips, his neck, his chest, following the trail her fingers blazed, his sharp intake of breath like a silent cheer to carry on. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Ash wasn’t completely relaxed; he was only letting her take the lead for so long. She forced herself to take her time, inhaling the woodsy, leathery scent, gradually moving lower. Lower. Sliding down his body an inch at a time, over abs, his belly button, the muscular definition of his lower abdomen before it dipped below the waistband of his trousers. And all the while she traced the grenade scar with her fingers and her tongue, revelling in the fact that he didn’t stop her.

  She was relieved when her fingers unbuckled his belt and lowered his zip with far more ease than she’d managed his shirt. His erection strained against the soft fabric of his boxers. Hooking her fingers over the waistband, she pulled the material down and lowered her lips to kiss the silky tip, then to the side where the grenade wound had stopped mercifully short.

  She’d seen enough wounded soldiers to know that the genital area was one of the least protected areas, with no body armour to shield it.

  Before Fliss knew what was happening, he had scooped her onto the bed and flipped her over onto her back, sliding the rest of her clothes off with slick efficiency. She frowned uncertainly.

  ‘Why did you stop me?’

  ‘Because that’s not how it’s going to play out,’ he growled fiercely.

  ‘Why not?’ Disappointment welled inside her. ‘You can’t relinquish control for a moment, can you?’

  * * *

  No, he couldn’t relinquish control. Not to Fliss. Not like that.

  No one had ever had a hold over him the way she seemed to. Even her hurt and disappointment gnawed at him. But even that one simple question revealed that she understood him in a way hardly anyone had ever done. And if he let her do what she’d inten
ded to do, let her make him forget everything, then he was afraid she would pull away the last of his defences and leave him vulnerable.

  Just as he had been as a young child, pushed from care home to foster home and back again. Totally out of his control.

  ‘I’ll make it up to you.’ He shrugged, pushing away the guilt.

  She looked dubious, half sitting up to reach for him again.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Like this,’ he muttered, dropping to his knees and parting her legs to lick her in one strong stroke.

  She cried out, falling back to the bed, her hips lifting up instinctively even as she called out in panic.

  ‘Ash, this isn’t... I don’t...’

  ‘You do now.’

  He heard the primitive growl in his voice moments before he buried his head in her heat. Her hips bucked against him.

  Hot. Sweet. His.

  He wanted to be the only man who had ever been able to satisfy her the way he did. Ash fought the feeling of possessiveness which stabbed through him at the idea of her with anyone else. This wasn’t about anything lasting; why was he still finding it so hard to remember that?

  Sliding a hand beneath her bottom to lock her in place, he raised his hand to caress one swollen breast and lowered his head again, feeling her fingers locking into his own hair as he kissed, and licked, and sucked. Her increasing moans and gasps urged him on, the way she cried out his name stoking the primal need inside him.

  She was so close. He could feel her on his tongue. He slipped a finger inside, then another, marvelling at the way she stretched against him, and then he sucked on that sensitive core and pitched her over into nothingness. Her orgasm shattered over her again and again as he never let up for an instant. Her shudders finally slowed and her breathing began to even out again.

  ‘You should have stopped,’ she accused softly, only half regretfully. ‘I wanted to feel you inside me.’

  ‘Be patient,’ he murmured darkly, knowing he wanted that too. Almost too much. He’d had to prove to himself he could control that searing need.

  Rocking back on his heels Ash stood up, shucking off the rest of his clothes even as he reached for a condom from the bedside drawer and rolled it quickly down his length. Then he returned his mouth to where he’d left off, hearing her objection give way to a squeak of surprise as he smoothly brought her body back to simmering point.

  Only then did he cover her body with his own, her breasts pillowed against his chest, her hard nipples raking his skin. She wrapped her legs instinctively around his hips, her arms snaking around his neck. He tried to hold off but she pulled him down, his tip brushing against her wet heat, intending only to ease in part way until she became accustomed to him. Without warning, she tilted her hips and tightened her legs, drawing him slickly inside with a sensual murmur.

  A guttural groan filled the air and Ash didn’t immediately recognise his own voice, so thick was it with desire.

  ‘God, Fliss, I don’t know how long I can last,’ he warned her.

  She nodded, heavy-lidded eyes fighting to open and look at him, her hands gripping his shoulders. She was already closer than he’d realised, and the knowledge pushed him perilously closer to own completion.

  Think of something else. Anything.

  Bracing his arms on either side of her, he forced a gap between them, allowing him to pull out of her before driving back in. Long, slow, deliberate strokes which Fliss threatened to undo when she lifted her hips and matched him, in perfect sync, all the while skimming her fingernails down his back to his buttocks, which she grasped.

  ‘Faster,’ she whispered urgently.

  He wanted to take more time. He couldn’t. She was driving the pace now, meeting him stroke for stroke, and he could barely restrain himself any longer. Their combined breathing became shallower, quicker, her moans louder, her hands clutching him. He changed the angle slightly to graze her just right and immediately her body shattered around him, clamping over him then pulsing as she shuddered in his arms.

  And Ash could finally let go too. He drove into her one final time as his own climax overtook him. A climax like no other before. He couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. He only knew his body was exploding into hers and she was riding against him on another orgasm of her own. He heard himself call out her name and then he tipped them both over the edge.

  His last thought was whether he’d ever be able to get enough of this woman.

  * * *

  It was only later, much later, after he’d claimed her again and again, just before the first rays of the new day started to creep over the horizon, when he realised their time was almost up and he had to leave, that Ash heard himself telling her that he was returning home for a funeral. Just those words, nothing more.

  ‘Whose?’ she asked, the concern seeping through her voice, though she was clearly trying to keep her tone even.

  Just like back in the supply room, when she’d first seen the blood on his shoulder and wondered how he’d injured himself.

  And, just like then, another hairline fracture cracked through his core.

  ‘Rosie’s.’

  Fliss looked aghast, an angry flush discolouring her skin.

  ‘Ash, I’m so sorry. God, how obvious. You told me about your foster mother; I should have remembered. I should have realised when I saw you in the hangar.’

  ‘Don’t,’ he ordered, taking her hands in his and making her look him in the eye.

  ‘You asked if I was okay and I said I was. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to think about it.’

  ‘You wanted to forget,’ she realised. ‘I was a distraction.’

  He could lie to her. But he didn’t want to; she deserved better.

  ‘Yes.’

  Instead of looking hurt or offended, however, she nodded at him with understanding. Then she fixed him with those magnificent, expressive eyes of blue and asked him if he wanted her to accompany him. Simply. Sincerely.

  Another hairline crack ran through him.

  He was tempted. And then he declined.

  ‘I’m going to the funeral to show my respect, but I lost the Rosie I knew, the mother figure, years ago, and I said my goodbyes then.’

  She frowned.

  ‘I know you think that now,’ she offered softly. ‘But it might not feel that way when you get there. As a doctor, I’ve seen it a lot. Even if you’ve said your goodbyes, you still might not be truly prepared for the funeral.’

  ‘I’m prepared.’

  Darkness swirled and he fought against it.

  ‘Ash, I know you have this self-control which you feel you can’t let go of—’ she swallowed ‘—even in bed with me. But you need to give yourself permission to feel any emotions which happen on the day.’

  ‘I understand what you’re saying.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘But I know what I’m doing. That’s why I bought the popcorn.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  He had no idea why he was telling her. Part of him wanted to make her understand that he was still thinking straight, still remembering his promises to Rosie, and that grief hadn’t messed up his head. Another part of him suspected he needed to tell someone. To tell her.

  ‘Part of what Rosie and Wilf did was have Family Night. Movie nights, where all the foster kids would join them in the den, watch a film together and eat burgers and popcorn; games nights where we’d gather around the kitchen and play board games; baking nights, which was actually where I first learned to cook something other than baked beans. When I first arrived I refused to join them; I’d spent every night on the streets and I thought I was cool.’

  ‘I bet they soon disabused you of that notion.’ Fliss smiled softly.

  Warmth and light flowed over him and Ash suddenly found himself laughing fondly.

/>   ‘You got that right. Movie nights quickly became my favourite and Rosie and I used to love to sit together on the couch and eat popcorn. I even kept going around when I’d left foster care.’

  ‘I remember you saying. I thought that was a lovely thing to do.’

  ‘One night we were watching a film and just when some character was being buried the popcorn went off in the kitchen. Immediately she joked that when she was cremated, she wanted to have popcorn kernels in with her so that she could go out with a bang. For some reason we couldn’t stop laughing and somehow it became a running joke, so when I saw that popcorn seller tonight it felt like it...meant something.’

  ‘You’re not really going to put the kernels in the coffin?’ Her face looked so concerned, so caring that he thought his heart was in a vice.

  So much for keeping control of his emotions. For never letting anyone get too close to hurt him. He’d let Fliss in and when he hadn’t been looking she’d begun to tear down his defences.

  ‘Of course I’m not going to put them in the coffin.’ He shook his head gently at her. ‘But having them with me, it makes me feel like I haven’t forgotten how close we were.’

  ‘I get it, Ash. I do.’

  Her quiet assurance somehow soothed his soul.

  ‘But if you change your mind,’ she offered. ‘If you need anything. Anything, Ash.’

  ‘I won’t,’ he told her quietly.

  And then he took her again, both knowing it was for the last time. They stared at each other as he slid inside her. Until they were both driving it onwards, urgently, greedily, until she arched her whole body and called out as she tumbled into the abyss. And he cried her name and followed her.

  Finally, he held her, dropping soft kisses on her body as her breathing eventually slowed and deepened and slumber overtook her. By the time he slipped silently from the bed, got dressed and left the room, Ash knew he had never found it harder to do the right thing.

  * * *

  The morning sun was streaming through the window by the time Fliss awoke again. Exquisitely sore, deliciously sated and inexplicably sad.

  She rolled over, away from the empty space in the bed, and the dent on the pillow where Ash’s head had rested only a few hours earlier. Picking up her phone, she checked the time.