Secret Maneuvers

by Jessie Lane

  “Don’t tease,” he rumbled.

  “Who said I’m teasing you?”

  “Babe, you’re staring at my cock like it’s your favorite flavor of ice cream and licking your lips, but you’re not doing anything about it.”

  I’d been licking my lips? So immersed in the sight of him before me, I hadn’t even noticed. Not that I cared. What woman wouldn’t look at this body of his and lick her lips with want? I licked my lips again, slowly, with just the tip of my tongue, purposely exaggerating the movement, and his eyes narrowed at me in accusation.

  Grabbing him in one hand, gently squeezing the heated flesh, I watched as his eyes closed and his head dropped back in pleasure. Moving my hand up and down in firm, slow strokes, I asked, “You want me to do something about this?”

  “Yes,” he groaned, fisting both of his hands in the sheets.

  Giving him another firm, slow stroke, I continued, “Are you sure you don’t want me to tease you just a little bit?” My hand stopped its movement and, instead, I squeezed him again.

  His eyes shot open, a fire building in them and he ground out in frustration, “Woman…”

  That scowl of his promised revenge and, even though I knew it would never come after tonight, I decided it might be best to stop torturing him on the off chance he did find a way to pay me back. Sliding him into my mouth, I savored the salty taste of him as I moved down his length. Looking up his body, his eyes caught and held mine as I worked him. There was a flush to his cheeks and his breathing was coming faster now.

  That fire of emotions burning in his eyes only seemed to grow brighter and I knew instinctively it was because he liked to watch me work him. It made me feel sexy. It made me want to be bolder with him. One of my hands was wrapped around the base of his cock so I used my free hand to reach down and roll his balls between palm and fingers. They were already drawn up hard and tight and, at the feel of me touching them, his back bowed, head pressed hard into his pillow, heels digging into the mattress. He was moments from losing it. I was so turned on from watching him struggle not to let go that I was already wet for him. Aching for him to fill me. As I was doing my best to push him over the edge with my hands and mouth, something happened. One moment, I was working him with everything I had and the next, my body was suddenly airborne until I landed hard on my back with Bobby’s body covering me.

  His eyes seemed fevered now when he said, “Not. Yet.”

  I panted, “But, Bobby—” He silenced me with a quick, hard kiss. Pulling away, he slid down my body, threw my legs over his shoulders just as I pushed up on my elbows and protested, “But Bobby—”

  “Shut it, woman. Trying to do something here.”

  Then his mouth was on me. My elbows gave out from underneath me and I fell back to the bed again. We’d always been generous with each other’s bodies when we were kids, using our hands and mouths to get each other off, but this was different. This was so much more. Everything felt heightened. His tongue was traveling over my entrance, up and over my clit, licking me like he couldn’t get enough of me. His finger was pressed up high inside of me and curled just enough that it hit that magical spot.

  I felt my mouth moving, but I had no idea what I was saying because my head felt light and there was a buzzing in my ears. He wasn’t trying to push me over an edge, he was strapping me to a rocket, lighting the fuse and I was milliseconds from exploding all over him. When it hit me, it felt as if someone had blown me apart, molecule by molecule, until there was nothing of me left except for the heart and soul of me, which was my undying love for Bobby.

  There was no time to think, though. No time to throw up some of those emotional defenses to protect myself from his assault. What a clever girl I’d thought I was when I’d started this with him, thinking I could control everything to minimize my eventual fallout. No, between one breath and the next, he was there, sliding into me, filling me like no one ever had before, or would again. It felt so good—him inside me—and that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks. It felt too good. He wasn’t wearing protection.

  “Condom,” I gasped. “You forgot to put on a condom!”

  He started to pull out and I thought he was going to fix our problem, but before he pulled entirely out of me, he was surging back in, shaking his head no, and gritting through his teeth.

  “Nothing between us, Belle.” Pulling almost all the way out, he moved his hands until they were holding my legs behind the knees and positioning me so that I was spread open wide and bare for him, then he powered back inside me. “Nothing will ever be between us again. God, being inside you feels like coming home.”

  Tears filled my eyes and a sob tore out of my chest. Bobby’s face softened and I could tell he thought they were tears of joy in celebration of us being together again. How I wish they were. They were really tears of gut-wrenching pain and want. How I’d give anything for there to be nothing between Bobby and I again, in every sense of the word, but that just wasn’t the case and—all too soon—he would figure that out. For now, I still had him and this moment so I was going to make the most of it.

  Just like fifteen years ago, the last time he’d made love to me on the bank of the creek in Georgia, I whispered, “Make love to me, Ace. I’m about to come, and I wanna feel you inside me when I do.”

  Seeing the desperate flash in his eyes, I knew he remembered that time, that moment of love between us and those words. Letting go of my legs, he stroked up into me again, and then brought himself down over me until our lips were touching as he whispered, “First, tell me who loves you.”

  More words from him I’d never thought to hear again. Tears escaped out of the corner of my eyes and I had to close them quickly so he wouldn’t see the emotional war going on inside of me. Unable to reopen them and look the man I was betraying in the eye, I whispered back, “You do, Bobby.”

  Kissing each eyelid and then the tear tracks on my face, he started moving inside me again as he said, “That’s right, sweet baby. Remember that.”

  Bobby

  Rolling from my back to my side in my sleep is when an internal alarm inside of me started going off. There should have been a warm, soft female body that I’d have to roll over with me. My arms now felt empty when they should be full of the woman who I’d made love to earlier. Reaching a hand out across the bed, I encountered no lush, feminine curves, instead there were only empty sheets. Sheets that were still a little warm from her body heat, but empty long enough that the indention from her pillow was long gone. Not wanting to appear like some frantic jackass in case she was in the bathroom, I laid there with my eyes still closed as I used my hearing to listen for signs of movement. At least a minute ticked by, and no sounds came to me.

  Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to open my eyes and see the truth, but knew I had to do it anyway. She was gone. Belle had up and left me sometime after we’d made love. Turning my head in the direction of the window and, subsequently, the digital clock, I opened my eyes just enough to see that it was now nine o’clock in the morning and daylight was streaming in around the curtains.

  Knifing out of bed, I looked for signs of her. Her clothes. Her boots. A note with her swirling cursive signature that would hopefully say she’d left to go get us some breakfast. Something to give me hope that she hadn’t just walked out of this room like nothing had fucking happened. After I’d torn the room apart looking for hope and finding none, I gave into my anger instead and punched a hole in the wall. Pulling my scraped and bleeding hand out of the sheetrock, I couldn’t help noticing that the size of the hole in the wall kind of looked like the size of the hole that she’d just punched through my heart.

  Annabelle

  Walking up to my front door, I was grateful that at least the hangover headache was gone. If I was lucky, I would find that Seth wouldn’t be in the house, either, so I wouldn’t have to explain my whereabouts for the night. As I inserted my key into the deadbolt lock, the door was snatched open for me. Lifting my he
ad up from the space of air where the lock used to be to the angry green eyes that were directed at me was not an easy thing to do. I should have known that I would not be lucky enough to get away from a confrontation with Seth. Now, it was time to face the music.

  Taking a step forward, I tried to step inside my own house, but my way was still blocked by the body vibrating with anger in front of me.

  “You going to move out of my way and let me in, or are we going to keep standing here like this?” I managed to push that question out with a lot more courage than I was currently feeling. My girl, Teagan, always said you had to fake it ‘til you could make it, though, so I had become a master over the years at faking things like courage and common sense until I could work them up for myself.

  Keeping his arms spread wide between the door frame and the front door, Seth mocked back, “You wanna tell me where the hell you’ve been all night? I was worried.”

  Nope, apparently, I wasn’t getting into my own house without a fight first. I should have known that I was going to have something go wrong after successfully sneaking out of Bobby’s room this morning. It had just been too easy. Propping my hands on my hips, straightening my back and doing my best to exert confidence and attitude, I snapped back at him, “You do not cuss at your Momma, Seth Baker. I ought to whip your behind for talking to me that way.”

  Chapter Seven

  Bobby

  “Anybody know what the fuck Baker’s problem is? He’s acting like a pissy, little girl today. I’m about to kick his ass to New York and back.”

  “Don’t you have man-scaping, or something, to do, Lucas? Leave Bobby alone, he’s having woman problems,” Declan shot back down the conference table where those of us not on shift yet were all sitting, eating pizza.

  “That sweet, little, blonde ATF agent? What kind of problems could you have with a piece of ass that fine, man?”

  In general, I usually didn’t mind locker room talk with the boys, but when it came to Belle, I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone call her a piece of ass. Pointing my finger in Lucas’s direction, I growled, “You never call her a piece again! You got me?”

  Lucas seemed surprised at my vehemence on the subject, but he gave me a chin lift that told me it was all good. Rubbing a hand over the back of my stiff neck, I once again mentally kicked myself in the ass for sleeping through Belle’s departure from my room. The woman was seriously starting to give me a complex. One thing was for sure, though, next time I got her in bed, I was going to handcuff her ass to me. It would be amusing to see how she would try and get out of that one. I was staring down at the uneaten pizza slice on my plate when Riley’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking, man, but I hope you’re not giving up on her.”

  Looking over to him, I shook my head. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. From the moment she walked into headquarters over a week ago, I feel as if I’ve been tripping over myself just to talk to her. When I feel like we’ve taken a step forward, she turns around and takes two steps back. After last night, I’d honestly thought we’d gotten somewhere.”

  Riley gave me a sad smile. “Man, don’t you know that just because your girl gives you the business, does not mean she’s over whatever snit she’s worked herself into. Trust me on that. My wife would give me the cold shoulder, I’d warm her back up, if you know what I mean, and yet, I’d still find myself sleeping on the couch.”

  When he stopped talking, I couldn’t help it, but my jaw dropped in shock. “I think that’s the most words you’ve ever said to me in three years.”

  He punched me in the shoulder. “Shut your trap. We can’t all be touchy feely with our emotions like Declan.”

  Looking at the older Sullivan brother, I saw what most of our team saw. An outstanding soldier. An honorable man who had the back of anyone in our group. An accomplished SEAL. He should be a happy man with nothing except good things to look forward to in his future, since he was only thirty-one with presumably many years ahead of him. However, he was a shell of a man. Sure, he went through the motions. He ate, slept, worked and even hooked up on a regular basis like the rest of us, but his heart wasn’t in it. According to Declan, his brother’s heart hadn’t been involved in anything since his wife had miscarried their first child and then left him. Riley Sullivan was a ghost of a man walking around with a shit load of regrets. I did not want to end up like him.

  He was also a man who was entirely too astute to what other people were thinking because he took one look at me and knew what had crossed my mind. I knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt, too, because he shrugged a shoulder and murmured, “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be me, either, if I were you. So I guess you better do what I never did and fix it.”

  He picked up his empty plate, walked over to the trash can to dump it and then left the room, presumably to head back to his own where he would puff on more cigarettes than humanly possible while playing his acoustic guitar. The former of his activities would probably give him cancer before he was forty-five because he smoked so much. No one had a clue how he managed to stay in the top physical condition that he was in. The latter of his activities was pleasant to listen to because one of the good habits Riley Sullivan had picked up after his wife had left him was how to play guitar. Amazingly, the man could seriously fucking play. All of that being said, I still did not want to end up anything like Riley—a shell of a man who missed his wife more than anyone knew was possible with no prospects on how to get her back.

  No, I wanted to do what he hadn’t done; I wanted to fix what was wrong between Belle and I. Of course, in our situation, I was not the problem anymore. I’d apologized to her. I’d even tried to tell her that I loved her before she’d pulled her feisty monkey routine and climbed up my body like it was a vine in the jungle. Now the problem was Belle. The million dollar question was: how to fix the problem?

  I watched as Lucas got up from the table, threw his plate away, gave me and Jaxon chin lifts and then exited the Commander’s hotel room. It didn’t take long before Jaxon filled the silence.

  “So, she snuck out on you, huh?”

  Cringing at his choice of words, I tried to save face. “I’m not sure if she snuck out on me…”

  “Yes, she did. I was at the end of the breezeway getting ice out of the machine when I watched her tiptoe out of your room and then haul ass to her truck. That’s practically the definition of the next morning sneak out.”

  Glaring at the other man, I mumbled, “You trying to stomp all over my pride?”

  Jaxon pointed one of his fingers at me. “That’s your problem.”

  “What’s my problem?”

  “You thinking you can hold onto your pride and win her back. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that love has no pride?”

  “Commander, did you just quote a Bonnie Raitt song to me?”

  “Well, at least you didn’t say it was a Linda Ronstadt song. How the hell did you know that?”

  I laughed at the ridiculousness of this situation; two grown men sitting around, talking about a love song from the seventies that they weren’t even around to hear because we hadn’t been born yet. “My mom is a huge Bonnie Raitt fan. We might not want to let the other guys ever know about this conversation, though. We may never live it down.”

  “I won’t say a word, if you won’t. That aside, my point is still the same. If you want her back, you’re going to have to put your pride aside.”

  “That’s not a problem. The problem is that she’s slicker than snot on a glass doorknob. Every time I think I’ve got her just where I want her—like last night—she ends up twisting me all up in knots until I don’t know if I’m coming or going, then slipping right past me.”

  Jaxon sat there tapping a finger against his lips as he contemplated me. It was the equivalent to feeling like the bug under the microscope in science class. Not fun.

  “You ever hear of Sun Tzu, Bobby?”

  “Who hasn’t, when you do what w
e did in the military?”

  “How familiar with him are you?”

  “Not that familiar. What’s your point, Commander?”

  “In The Art of War they quote Sun Tzu as saying, ‘He will conquer who has learnt the artifice of deviation.’ Do you know what that means?”

  “Are you giving me advice or a history lesson?”

  “Both, so listen up, knucklehead. Back then, the generals would sit on top of a hill, or something, so they could have a vantage point over the ongoing battle below them. Select soldiers were charged with carrying flags that would be used to communicate with their fellow troops to show them when they were supposed to move and where they were supposed to go. A good general would use his vantage point, his signal system and his intelligence to his advantage in the sense that, if his opponent changed course, he could signal his own troops to deviate from their intended destination and converge on the opposing troops wherever they may be.

  “The purpose of the history lesson and the quote is that, sometimes you have to know when to adjust or deviate from a change in battlefield tactics while the battle is still ongoing so that you can win it. Up to this point, you’ve tried giving Belle patience, time and space to work through things. Then, last night, you used Declan and Riley to try and surprise-attack her, in a sense, with your presence in the room so that she couldn’t escape you. You may have made some headway with her, but the war is still ongoing.”