Forever Blue

by Suzanne Brockmann

  Blue didn't know what to do, what to say. She wasn't here because she honestly wanted to be. She was here in some kind of knee-jerk reaction to her altercation with Chief Bradley.

  With any other woman, Blue wouldn't have hesitated. With any other woman, he would have already been on the other side of the hot tub, performing a seduction of his own. She'd taken it this far; he could easily see it through to its climax, so to speak.

  But... Lucy was his friend. She had been right earlier today. Something had developed between them that could only be called friendship. And as much as Blue wanted her, he didn't want her this way.

  So he kept his distance and waited for her to answer her own question.

  "But this really isn't me," she finally said. "I mean, I don't...do things like this. I've never tried to seduce someone before…"

  "Yankee, I do believe you're a natural," Blue said with a slow smile.

  Lucy laughed, covering her face with her hands. "I'm feeling pretty stupid."

  "Don't be," he said. "I'm in serious pain."

  "Then why are you sitting way over there?"

  Her soft question made the bathroom seem suddenly very, very quiet. Blue could hear his watch ticking from underneath the pile of clean clothes he'd brought into the room. He moistened his dry lips. Damn, he couldn't remember ever being this nervous with a woman before. "Do you want me to sit next to you?" he asked.

  Her eyes were wide and a bottomless shade of brown as she gazed at him. "I don't know what I want," she admitted.

  Blue took a deep breath, trying to slow his raging pulse, trying to lower his soaring blood pressure. "When you know," he said, "then you let me know."

  She was silent, just staring at him. "I can't believe you're turning me down," she said at last.

  "I'm not turning you down, because you haven't made me a real offer," Blue said quietly. "You make me an offer, Lucy, and I assure you, I will not turn you down."

  There was wonder in her eyes, wonder and the sheen of tears. "You told me you weren't a gentleman," she said.

  "I'm not."

  Which was why he had to get out of there. Right now. Blue stood, water sheeting off him. He climbed up the stairs and out of the tub, trying not to limp. He could feel Lucy's eyes on him, skimming over his nakedness, and he wrapped his towel around his waist. She couldn't have missed his state of arousal. Even though he'd tried his best to calm his raging libido, he could have sat in the tub forever and still it wouldn't have completely gone away.

  "What do you say we go downstairs and I cook us both some dinner?" Blue said. He didn't wait for her to say no. "Throw some clothes on and meet me in the kitchen."

  It was nearly ten o'clock before dinner was over.

  Lucy had gone into the kitchen with some trepidation, but Blue did or said nothing to remind her how foolishly she'd behaved up in the bathroom.

  He made her set the table and then sit and do nothing but watch as he cooked up a fragrant pot of spaghetti sauce and pasta.

  As he cooked, and then as they ate, he told her the story of how his friend and swim buddy, Joe Cat, had met his wife, Veronica. She was a seemingly prim-and-proper media consultant who worked for European royalty. He was a rough, tough Navy SEAL from a bad part of New Jersey. According to Blue, it was love at first sight—only, both Joe Cat and Veronica stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

  "Do you really believe in love at first sight?" Lucy asked Blue as he began washing up the dishes.

  "Yeah," he admitted. "I know it sounds corny, but, yeah, I do. I saw it happen with Cat. Something just grabbed him and wouldn't let go. It scared the hell out of me. One day everything was normal, and the next Cat was totally out of control."

  Lucy was silent. She understood. She was falling in love with Blue, and it was way, way beyond her control.

  "Cat and Veronica both tried to run away from what they felt," Blue said in his slow Southern drawl. "But you can't run away from something that's inside you. I saw that firsthand. Cat was miserable without Veronica."

  And Lucy would be miserable without Blue. But why force herself to be miserable with him, too? She could have him—even if only for a few days, even if only on a physical level.

  She knew Blue wanted their relationship to be a sexual one. Even though he'd gallantly turned her down up in the hot tub, he'd made that more than clear. She could have his body. All she had to do was ask. It was more than nothing, and it would have to be enough.

  Why should she refuse herself even just an hour or two of happiness and pleasure? Yes, Blue was going to leave. No, Blue wasn't in love with her. Yes, she'd probably be just a substitute for Jenny Lee Beaumont. But Lucy didn't have to think about that. She didn't have to make herself miserable. She had the entire rest of her life to do that. She deserved at least a day or two of happiness now, even if it was only false happiness.

  But how was Lucy supposed to tell him that she finally knew what she wanted—that she wanted to make love to him?

  Another seduction attempt? The thought made her squirm. Make me an offer, he'd said. That kind of offer seemed so unromantic, so calculated and cold.

  Maybe instead of an offer, she could issue an invitation.

  Lucy stood. "I'm going to head upstairs," she said. "Unless you want me to help clean up?"

  Blue glanced at her over his shoulder and then at his watch. It was still early, and he was clearly disappointed that she was leaving. "No, that's all right," he said. "I'm almost done down here."

  "Good night, then," she said, and started out of the room.

  "Lucy."

  Lock your door. He didn't have to say it aloud. "I know," she said. Heading up the stairs, she smiled.

  Blue tried calling California from the telephone in the kitchen as he finished up the dishes. Yes, Lieutenant Joe Catalanotto was still out on a training mission. Yes, Admiral Mac Forrest was still not available.

  He hung up the phone, fighting a feeling of dread.

  Lucy was no longer in charge of Gerry's murder investigation. Travis Southeby was. Blue figured it was only a matter of days, maybe even hours, before Southeby found what he felt was enough evidence to lock Blue up. Tomorrow Blue very well might be in jail.

  And today Blue had had heaven in his hands, and like a damn fool, he'd let it slip away.

  It was still early—before midnight, anyway—and he was feeling way too restless to sleep. His leg hurt too badly to go for a run, but a walk might do him good.

  He headed upstairs to get his gun and...

  The door to Lucy's room was unlocked and open a crack.

  Her room was dark inside, but the door had definitely been left open.

  Dammit, he wasn't strong enough for this. He'd turned her down once tonight, but there was no way he could handle twice. He knocked loudly on her door. "Hey," he said crossly. "Yankee. You forgot to lock up."

  "No, I didn't." Her voice was soft, but very certain.

  The meaning of her words crashed down around him, and Blue had to hold on to the door frame for a moment to keep his balance. She'd left the door open. Intentionally.

  "May I... come in?" he asked.

  He heard her husky laugh. "How many invitations do you want, McCoy?"

  Blue pushed open the door. The dim light from the hallway spilled all the way across Lucy's room, falling onto her bed. She was sitting there, wearing an old extra large T-shirt and a pair of panties and quite probably nothing else.

  Her hair was down around her shoulders and she had no makeup on her face. She looked clean and fresh, and as she smiled hesitantly at him, he couldn't believe how utterly beautiful she was.

  She held out her arms, shrugging slightly, her smile turning, almost apologetic. "This is me," she said, laughing selfconsciously. "What you see right now is really me. No negligee. No borrowed little black dress or spike heels. No fancy hairdo. No hot-tub seduction. Just an old University of South Carolina T-shirt and a pair of cotton underpants. White. No frills. Just like me. If you decide to...accept
my... invitation, this is what you get."

  Blue knew instantly that this was what he'd been waiting for. She had no police badge to hide behind, no hesitation, no more doubts. She'd worked their relationship down to the simplest equation: she wanted him and he wanted her.

  And oh, how he wanted her. He'd had his share of women wearing fancy negligees and seductive clothing, but none of them looked even half as sexy as Lucy Tait did in an old university T-shirt with her hair tumbling down her back, her face clean of makeup. No frills, she'd said. Maybe not. Maybe just one hundred percent pure woman.

  Blue sat down on the bed next to Lucy and gave her his answer in a kiss. Despite all the fire surging through his veins it was a sweet kiss—the sweetest he'd ever known. He felt her fingers on his chest, unfastening the buttons of his shirt and he put his hand over hers, stopping her, slowing her down.

  "We've got all night," he whispered, pulling back to look at her.

  He closed his eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair. It felt sinfully, deliciously, good.

  "Then you won't mind if I just sit here and do this for about an hour," Lucy said.

  "Not as long as I can kiss you, Yankee," Blue murmured, pressing his lips to hers.

  He pulled her back with him onto the bed, and their legs intertwined, and still he kissed her. He gave her long, slow, deep kiss after long, slow, deep kiss, until her breath grew short, her hands gripped him tighter and her body strained against his.

  Deftly, he removed her T-shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one quick motion. And then all of her smooth, sleek skin was his to touch, to caress, to kiss.

  Lucy was delirious. She'd known that making love with Blue was going to be an extraordinary experience, but she'd never imagined that his hands could be so gentle. She'd never dreamed that he could kiss her so slowly, so completely.

  She'd imagined a frantic, urgent joining, not this languorous, sensuous worship of her body. She clung to him as he brought his lips down first to one breast and then the other, laving her tender nipples with his tongue, drawing them slowly into his mouth.

  She tugged at his shirt and he slipped it off, tossing it onto the floor along with his shoulder holster. As she ran her fingers across the satiny skin of his back, careful of the bandage on his arm, his mouth journeyed downward, to her stomach, stopping to explore the softness of her belly button.

  Heat pooled through her, sending liquid fire through her veins. Her love for this man seemed such a tangible thing that Lucy was almost certain he could see it.

  "You're so beautiful," he whispered, meeting her gaze and smiling as he slid her panties down her legs. The heat in his eyes was more than lust. It was more powerful, more pure—almost transcendental, making the blue of his eyes seem luminous and soft.

  For the first time in her life, Lucy felt cherished.

  She knew it couldn't possibly be so. In reality, Blue didn't love her. He would never love her. But she fought that reality, allowing herself the complete illusion tonight. Tonight, she would be cherished.

  He kissed the inside of her knee, parting her legs as he slowly moved his mouth down toward the sensitive skin of her thigh. And farther. Lucy gripped the bed as he touched her, kissed her, first gently, then harder, deeper.

  The sensation was beyond pleasure, beyond ecstasy, beyond anything she had ever felt or known before. And that, in tandem with her love for this man, catapulted her up and over the edge.

  She heard herself cry out as he held her tighter, as a sudden and unexpected release cannonballed through her, seeming to rip her apart with wave upon wave upon unending wave of sheer, excruciatingly wild pleasure.

  Finally, finally, it came to an end. She reached for Blue, pulling him up and across her. He was laughing, real delight in his eyes.

  "Hoo-yah,"he said.

  "Oh, man," Lucy gasped.

  "Do you do that all the time, Yankee?" he asked, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  "No," she breathed. "Never. Not like that."

  His smile grew broader, satisfied. "Good."

  He kissed her, slowly, tenderly, but that wasn't what she wanted. She deepened their kiss and reached for his belt, unbuckling it.

  "Mercy." Blue pulled back, laughing again. "You want more?"

  "Yes." Lucy unzipped his pants, tracing his length with her fingers. There was so much of him. She ached to feel him inside her. "Please." She reached down into his shorts, touching him, encircling him with her hand as she kissed him fiercely.

  She heard him groan, felt him pull away as he pushed and kicked his pants from his legs. She tried to help, but she suspected she only made the process more difficult. Still, she wanted to touch him, to run her hands along the lengths of his long, muscular legs—

  Oh, shoot, she'd forgotten all about his injured leg. She pulled back. "Oh, Blue, have I hurt you?"

  He just laughed at that, catching her mouth with his and kissing her, hard. She felt herself melt against him, opening herself to him in every possible way. She reached down to touch him again and found he'd already ensheathed himself with a condom he must have taken from his pocket.

  He kissed her again, a kiss of fire and passion, and she felt something shift, as if the powerful kick of their rocket fuel-powered attraction was ready now to ignite. She knew instantly that this phase of their lovemaking would be neither slow nor languorous.

  Blue felt Lucy arch her hips up toward him, seeking him, and he felt the first tier of his ragged control start to crack. He needed to feel her surrounding him. Now.

  He plunged into her, hard and fast...and mercy! He had to slow down, take care. He didn't want to hurt her.

  Yet she was anything but hurt. "Yes," she was murmuring into his ear, "yes," pulling him closer, meeting each of his thrusts with a dizzying passion.

  This was too good. No one should ever be allowed to feel this good. The thought made him laugh aloud and he kissed Lucy again, spinning with the joy and exhilaration of knowing he was exactly, precisely, where he wanted to be.

  He rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him so she sat straddling him. She flicked her hair back out of her eyes, moving hard and fast, the way he liked it. She grinned down at him, her eyes sparkling and dancing with sheer pleasure, and more of his precious control crumbled.

  He reached for her, his hands covering her breasts, and she arched her body, pressing herself more fully into his palms. She threw her head back, her smile fading, and Blue felt her body tense and tighten. She cried out his name, her voiced ecstasy music to his ears. Her release was as powerful as before, only this time she took him with her.

  Never before had his pleasure been so perfect. Never before had the rush of his passionate explosion sent him soaring quite so high, quite so far. Never before had he wanted to take a moment in time and freeze it for all eternity.

  But it wasn't the moment of mind-blowing, raw sexual pleasure that he'd freeze. It was this moment afterward, as he held Lucy tightly against him, his face buried in her hair, their two hearts still beating wildly as they drifted slowly back to earth. This was the moment he wanted to save and keep forever. Because never before had he felt such peace, such completeness.

  His chest ached and his eyes burned, and he wanted to speak, wanted to tell her something, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what words he could use that could possibly describe this feeling. So he kissed her, instead, sweetly, gently, hoping she'd understand.

  Chapter 11

  Blue woke up several hours after dawn. He stretched and yawned, feeling oddly rested. He hadn't slept this well in a long time and...

  He opened his eyes.

  He was in Lucy's bed. She was lying next to him, still sleeping peacefully, the sheets tangled around her.

  Memories of last night came roaring back to him in a rush, and for a moment he could barely breathe, barely think. The things they'd done, the things he'd felt...

  Mercy.

  But the sun had crept up above the tree line, an
d it was shining in Lucy's windows. The night had ended and it was morning.

  Morning. The time of regrets and recriminations. The time of awkward silences and uncomfortable conversations. Like some broken spell, the magic of the night before always shrivelled and died in the morning light.

  A night of sex was understood by all to be nothing more than a good time. But when breakfast was added to the equation, that night of sex became something else entirely. It became a relationship. It became a possibility, an expectation, a future commitment. Blue had long since learned to clear out of a lady's bedroom well before dawn.

  This time he hadn't. This time the spell he'd been under had held him in its power and he'd slept the dreamless sleep of the enchanted. But now he eased himself up and off the bed. There was still time to make his escape.

  Lucy remained asleep. But as he looked at her lying there, his eyes followed the exposed curve of her derriere, the gentle swell of her breast as she lay on her stomach, her arms tucked up underneath the pillow. He felt an unexpected surge of desire.

  The few times he'd stayed with a woman until the morning, he'd awoken with his lust abated, his sexual attraction fading fast. Aided by the harsh morning light, his lover's slept-in and smudged makeup, dishevelled hair and usually bloodshot eyes left him wanting nothing more than to leave, and leave quickly.

  But Lucy looked like some kind of angel in the early-morning light. Her skin seemed to glow, it was so smooth and perfect. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to feel her softness beneath his fingers again. Her hair was messed, but on her it looked sexy. And her face...

  She was impossibly beautiful. Her lashes were long and dark and they lay against cheeks that had been kissed by the sun. Her mouth was open very slightly, and her lips looked so moist—

  Lucy stirred slightly and Blue ran, noiselessly leaving her room before her eyes opened. He ran because he'd always run away before.

  '"Morning," Blue said, clearly ill at ease, not quite meeting Lucy's eyes as he opened the refrigerator and took out the pitcher of orange juice.