Night Maneuvers

by Jillian Burns

  He had to taste her.

  Peeling the thong down her thighs and off, he dropped to one knee and licked and nibbled where his fingers had been.

  Alex called out his name and the names of several higher powers as she grasped the back of his head. She was so responsive, so feminine. He’d never have thought…

  With a secret smile, he went back to playing with her, licking and mouthing deeper between her thighs. If there was one thing he could do for a woman it was bring her pleasure. He stroked with his tongue and brought his fingers to delve inside, teasing her, rubbing and circling her swollen nub until she stiffened beneath him and cried out his name.

  Her hands dropped from his head and Mitch watched as she went limp. She sighed as her breathing returned to normal.

  Condom. He needed a condom. He’d removed the ones from his wallet for the duration. “Uh, I’ll be right back.” He shot up and made it to his bathroom medicine cabinet and back to Alex in record time.

  But she was stepping into her jeans. She met his gaze and her expression wasn’t encouraging. Though her eyes were still glazed with passion, her brows were creased in a frown and the soft lines of her mouth crumpled.

  Sliding an arm around her waist, he gently combed the hair away from her beautiful face. “Hey.” He bent to press gentle kisses across her freckled nose, her forehead, her chin and down her throat. “Don’t overthink this, okay?”

  “No, Mitch.” She shrugged out of his grasp and zipped her jeans. “What about your thirty days? You gave your word to Jackson.”

  He shivered. His body screamed for release. “But I want you, Alex.” After years of one-night stands, of dealing with women who wanted more than he could give or wanted to play games. Or they wanted the fantasy. The guy in the uniform. The hero fighter pilot. He was so goddamn tired of coming home bored, or worse, depressed.

  Hughes wasn’t like that. She knew him better than anyone, and here she was, letting him kiss his way along her neck. He couldn’t believe she wanted him. Just Mitch.

  She shook her head. “The minute it’s over, you’ll regret breaking your word. I know you, Mitch.”

  He sighed and closed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Mitch. So sorry.” She started gathering up her shoes.

  “No, you’re right.” He shuddered and went to get a shirt for himself. When he returned to his living room, Alex was hunkered down tying her shoes.

  She straightened and met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over here.” Spinning, she headed for the door.

  For the second time that night he flattened his palm on the door to prevent her leaving. “Why did you?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. And she was trembling. “Honest answer, Mitch.” Keeping her grip on the doorknob and her gaze on his hand. “If I’d been dating the guy for over a year, and you met him and liked him, then would you be happy for me to marry him?”

  Nausea rose in his stomach. She was serious. After what they’d just shared? But she’d obviously been thinking about this. The guy must’ve proposed. And she wanted Mitch’s blessing.

  Then all the pieces finally clicked into place. The way she’d been acting when she first got here. She’d come over here to tell him something. Pressure built up in his chest. She was getting married. And things would never be the same. He’d lose his best friend. This D.C. SEAL sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate his wife hanging out at the officers’ club drinking beer and playing pool with the guys. With Mitch.

  But she was his best friend. And she thought marrying this guy would make her happy. How could he not want that?

  “I guess, if he makes you happy, Hughes. Then, yeah, I wish you all the best.” He almost choked on the words. But he meant them. He wanted her happiness. So, he made himself smile. “Even though I’d lose my wingman.”

  She didn’t return his smile as he’d expected. “I don’t want to lose you either, Mitch,” she whispered, then yanked open the door and raced away.

  He swallowed, something feeling not quite right. If she was serious about marrying this guy, then what had tonight been to her? Getting it out of her system before she tied the knot? A quick check to see who was better? Fury shot through him. He’d never understand women.

  9

  SITUATION REPORT—DAY TWENTY-FOUR: pathetic.

  “What the hell are you doing out here, McCabe?” Lieutenant Colonel Grady appeared at Mitch’s Jeep’s window.

  Good question. What was he doing parked on the training airfield at this time of night? Morning, really. Alex was just returning from a sortie. He’d seen her Falcon land minutes ago. Even from this distance he’d recognize that Texas-shaped Texas flag she’d painted on the aircraft’s nose.

  Mitch faced his superior, and his friend. “Just watching the new trainees practicing their night maneuvers, sir.” Yeah, right.

  Grady’s gaze darted to the bottle of Jim Beam in Mitch’s passenger seat. “Have you been drinking?”

  McCabe glanced at the bottle and then back at Grady. “Not yet.”

  When he’d picked up the booze earlier, he’d planned to go home and drink until he could sleep. But he’d ended up here instead.

  His insomnia hadn’t improved any since Alex left Saturday night. In fact, it’d gotten worse. Couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t make himself care about much. He knew Grady had been covering for him with his commander, and if he didn’t get his act together, he’d earn himself a reprimand. Maybe even mess up his promotion.

  “You shouldn’t be out here, McCabe. Go home.”

  Staring out at the row of F-16s where Hughes was just coming from, McCabe ran a hand down his jaw. “Yeah. I’m going.” She had a special walk. It wasn’t at all masculine, but it wasn’t all mincing and prancing either. It was just…Alex.

  Was this SEAL guy going to appreciate that? Or any of the other special things about Hughes? Once they’d been married a few years—if it lasted that long—he’d probably find fault with her and start an affair. Hughes would be devastated.

  And he couldn’t stand to watch that happen.

  “Look.” Grady propped his fists on his hips. “I’m sure not the one to be giving advice, but…just talk to her.”

  Mitch winced but still kept his eye on Hughes. “I don’t think she’d listen.” Had he listened when Hughes tried to tell him not to marry Luanne? Of course not. That’s what love did. It made a perfectly sensible person turn into a moron.

  “Well, what about…” Grady shifted weight from one boot to the other. Even Mitch knew the guy was completely out of his element here. “Hey, remember when Jackson was trying to get Jordan? He sent her all those presents like flowers and a car.”

  Mitch gave him his full attention. “I’m not trying to ‘get’ her. I just don’t want to lose my friend.”

  Grady raised one disbelieving brow.

  “Besides,” Mitch continued. “Can you see Hughes caring about any of that?”

  “No.” Grady scratched his head. “You could always fall back on the tried and true.”

  Mitch gave him a weary smile. “What’s that?”

  “Apologize.”

  Mitch tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a grunt. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “If only that was all it took.” He reached out and started the Jeep’s engine. “Hey, this never happened, right?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grady called over his shoulder as Mitch drove off.

  ALEX DIDN’T REMEMBER driving home the night after leaving Mitch’s house. Things were slightly blurry. The whole next day was a blur, too.

  Thankfully, she had classes to teach. Air-to-air combat demanded one hundred percent of one’s concentration. The Mistake, as she’d begun thinking of her actions Saturday night, was shoved down into the dark recesses of her brain. For eight hours each night—or most of them—she didn’t give Mitch, or The Mistake, or her miserable love life one thought.

  By the end of the week, working nights and not seeing Mitch
at all, she still hadn’t figured out how to undo all the damage The Mistake had caused. Not only had she not roped her calf, she’d actually let the stallion out of the corral and—oh, hell. She’d screwed up big-time. Now everything was such a mess she had no idea how to fix it.

  “Captain Hughes?” Lieutenant Davis’s voice snapped her out of her miserable thoughts.

  “Yes, sorry.” Alex blinked and her PowerPoint presentation came back into focus. She stood at the front of the classroom pointing to the screen behind her. Similar to a football game play, the drawing had arced arrows dissecting two roughly drawn aircraft. “Tonight we’ll be practicing the High Yoyo.”

  Thank goodness this was her last class of the week.

  “Half of you will fly defensive maneuvers, the other half will be attacking. Now, who wants to tell me about a High Yoyo?”

  Davis—or Rooster, as he’d been named, something to do with being cocky, Alex surmised—raised his hand.

  She nodded at him. “Go ahead, Lieutenant Davis.”

  Drew Davis was slouched in his chair, rolling a pencil between his fingers. His eyes smoldered into Alex. Ever since that night at the officers’ club when he’d seen her in the red dress and come on to her, there’d been a sexual undercurrent in his attitude. “The High Yoyo is a defensive maneuver where the pilot rolls out, takes the vertical plane, pulls back on his stick until inverted, and then continues to pull on his stick until he’s horizontal.” Somehow, he managed to make the entire description sound like a sex act. Cocky, so cocky.

  “Correct. But remember. You can’t see the bandit in the dark. Night vision technology helps, but you can’t always rely on computers. Before you finish this course, we’ll practice all basic fighting maneuvers without night vision equipment.”

  Several pilot trainees had quick questions, which Alex answered, then she assigned each student to defender and attacker positions and they hit the airfield. “During this training sortie, your missiles will not be live,” Alex called out to her class as she strode across the tarmac. “But you will employ evasive maneuvers and deploy your chaff and flares. How close can a missile get before you deploy chaff and flares, Davis?” She’d yet to catch him without a correct answer, but she would eventually.

  “Two miles, Captain.”

  She nodded, foiled again.

  Assigning two students to fly first, she tugged on her helmet and headed for her own F-16.

  “Captain, permission to speak freely, sir.” Davis had followed her.

  “Go ahead, Davis.” Alex halted to face the rookie.

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  Alex blinked. “You know squadron mates aren’t allowed to fraternize, Lieutenant.”

  “So, if we were allowed, or I was to get assigned to a different squadron, you’d go out with me?”

  “No offense, Lieutenant, but you’re too young for me.”

  Davis stepped into her personal space, forcing her to lift her chin and look up at him. “Have you ever had a younger man, Alexandria?”

  Crud. She really didn’t need this. “Lieutenant, you’re one more word away from getting reprimanded for insubordination. Step away and return to your squadron.”

  “Yes, sir.” Davis saluted perfectly, spun on his heel and marched back to the other trainees waiting to fly.

  She might have to do something about him sooner or later.

  The rest of the night flew by, literally, teaching combat maneuvers. Not the first time she’d been thankful for her career.

  The one thing in her life she hadn’t wrecked yet.

  The sun was just coming up Friday morning as Alex slipped her head under the water in her tub and stayed there as long as she could hold her breath. Her body remembered every touch, every kiss, every place where Mitch had devoted his exquisite expertise. Alex cupped her breasts and pressed her palms against her tightening nipples.

  She lifted her face out of the water, gasping for a breath. Crud, she’d done it again. The tingling along her skin, the ache between her thighs, just the memory of Mitch’s talented mouth gave her body instant recall. If she hadn’t let him do that, she wouldn’t have to forever live with the memory of what she’d never experience again. Ignorance, in this case, would, indeed, have been bliss.

  With a sigh, she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her body, and tiptoed into the kitchen to see what she could scrounge up for dinner. Or breakfast, whichever. Working nights had her stomach confused. She opened the fridge and stood there taking stock of the contents as if she didn’t already know what was there.

  She jumped as she heard a car pull into her driveway and the door slam. The kitchen clock read six forty-five. Who would be here at this time of day? She waited, but no one rang the doorbell or knocked.

  There’d been a string of burglaries in the neighborhood the past month. If she remembered correctly, they’d all taken place in the early morning after folks went to work. Just like now. And her firearm was locked in its safety box in the closet. Alex grabbed the largest knife from her drawer and crept toward the front window.

  Slowly, she pulled back the curtain and peeked out.

  What the… Mitch?

  He looked like Mitch, and yet he didn’t. Instead of his usual nonchalant stance, he stood ramrod straight on her front porch, glaring at the front door with his fists clenched at his sides. The Mitch she knew was always impeccably dressed, in uniform or out. This morning Mitch looked haggard, unshaved, his T-shirt was stained and wrinkled, and…he was barefoot?

  She turned and set the knife on her sofa table and when she peeked around the curtains again his gaze locked with hers. His eyes burned with need. She shivered as a frisson of lust shot through her.

  His gaze dropped to her body and his eyes widened.

  Whoa. She was still wrapped in the bath towel. Uselessly, she crossed an arm over her chest and stepped back.

  He pounded on the door. “Alex.”

  She froze, unable to move. She shouldn’t let him in. The way he was looking at her. And the way she was feeling right now. She wasn’t naive. She knew where things would probably go. And if they did make love?

  If she opened that door, she had a feeling things would never be the same. Not only would he be breaking his word to Jackson, but their friendship would be irrevocably changed.

  And yet, wasn’t it already? They weren’t speaking. There was an unwanted tension between them.

  “Alex?” He pounded on the door again.

  Jeez, he was going to disturb her neighbors. And was she really going to leave him standing there on her doorstep? She could never do that to Mitch. Their relationship was changing, and she was mostly to blame. She’d deal, one way or the other.

  Padding to the door, she reached up, clicked open the dead bolt and swung open the door.

  Before she could step back, he swept inside, slammed the door behind him, and grabbed her shoulders. “Alex, don’t do it.”

  The heat from his hands spread from her arms and set her body ablaze. His musky, masculine scent caught her offguard again. She had to think about what he’d said. “What? Don’t do what?”

  His eyes narrowed, and then sharpened with determination. “Don’t marry that guy.”

  Ah. So that was it. “Oh. About that—”

  “Alex, I—I need you.” He swept her into his arms and kissed her, pulling her towel off at the same time. With a moan Alex curled her arms around his neck and kissed him back. “I tried staying away,” he rasped.

  “You did?” Heat blazed where his lips touched her sensitive skin.

  He nodded. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He pulled back and framed her face with callused hands. “I keep picturing you with him and it kills me. You belong with me, Alex.” He grasped her bottom, lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His kiss grew more desperate and deep as he carried her into her bedroom.

  Placing her on the bed, he yanked his T-shirt off, shucked his jeans and underwear, and followed he
r down. With a sigh of relief he pressed his body to hers and took her mouth again.

  “Alex,” he mumbled against her lips. “I don’t want to lose you.” One hand palmed her breast and thumbed her nipple as he trailed openmouthed kisses down her jaw to her neck. He inhaled. “You smell so good. How did I never notice before that you could smell so good?”

  More desperate kisses back up to her mouth where he plundered and played with her tongue. He moaned and pushed his thick erection into her thigh. “How can you marry that guy after what we…?” He nibbled down the other side of her neck. “What I…?” He lowered his head to suckle on her nipple.

  She gasped and dug her fingers into his hair as pleasure-pain shot straight to her core.

  “Say you want me as badly as I want you.” He switched to the other nipple.

  “I do want you.” She lifted her head and kissed his forehead, his temple. “Mitch.” How she wanted him. Had always wanted him. How many times had she caught herself yearning to pull him close and hold him? How many years had she longed for him to see her? To want her?

  “So soft, so sweet,” he murmured as his mouth moved down to her tummy and his hands gripped her hips. His tongue played with her navel, slowly inching his way between her thighs. But he stopped and raised his head to scorch her with his gaze. “How could I not have seen how beautiful you are?” His warm breath drifted to her quivering stomach.

  Instead of answering, she reached to comb proprietary fingers through his short blond hair. You’re mine now, she was trying to tell him. Mine to touch. Mine to protect. Mine to love.

  Closing his eyes, he turned his mouth into her palm and placed a kiss there. Then he resumed delving deep into her damp heat.

  Relentless with his lips and tongue, he carried her just to the edge of ecstasy, and then pulled back on the throttle, making her whimper and beg, until finally he punched the afterburner and she soared above the stratosphere.