Soldier, Come Home Page 3
"Well." His hot breath wafted over her ear and neck. "I guess this is our cue to move on."
She looked up into his eyes. His lovely, sexy eyes. That's when it hit her. She hadn't felt like this in such a long time. This sweet, fulfilling, sensuously romantic awareness. The exciting spark with a handsome man that you didn't know where it would lead but knew it would be an outstanding experience. She smiled. And was rewarded with an answering grin. They were on the same page.
As if both tacitly agreeing to spend the rest of the afternoon in teasing foreplay instead of rushing off to bed, they wandered hand in hand back along the pier. They alternated between exhibits inside in the air conditioned building and enjoying jugglers and mimes and just plain, ordinary people watching outside in the sun. They availed themselves of soft drinks and ice cream, whatever looked good.
"What kind of law do you intend to practice?" he asked.
"I plan to do advocacy law for at-risk women and children."
"Wow, that's impressive."
"Well, it's kind of a personal thing with me." She pursed her lips in pained irritation. "My sister and niece were in trouble. The police and social services were useless. If you don't have family, you don't have anyone to help you. I intend to change the system." She gazed off into the distance. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get on my soapbox."
"Hey." He slipped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her companionably. "I understand. If there's a way to make the system better, you can do it."
She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest. It felt good to be there. Comfortable. She took a deep breath, felt her breasts swell against his chest. He tightened his hug, and then pressed her head to his shoulder in a heart-warming gesture.
***
Even though he held her in his arms to comfort her, the fact she was in his arms didn't escape him. Burying his nose in her hair, he savored her ripe, soft body, feeling every inch of her torso through the thin material of her dress. He liked her even more knowing that she was going to be a good kind of lawyer. Someone to be proud of. They stood like that for several long moments.
Finally, she straightened her shoulders and gazed up at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to depress you."
"I'm fine. How can I make you feel better," he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes. He'd had just about all the ice cream and Sno Cones he could handle. If he had to watch her lick and suck for one more minute, he was going to burst. And it wouldn't be pretty. It'd be messy, too. He needed to get her licking and sucking on something important. Like his cock.
"You are," she said noncommittally. "I'm fine now. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He gave her a quick buss on the top of her head. As much as he was enjoying their playtime out in public, he wanted her tucked away in his suite, on her back—or hands and knees—now! The hot, shimmering daytime had faded to dusk, and now, darkness edged in little twinkling lights cocooned them. Without discussion, they'd ambled with the crowd back to the end of the pier to watch fireworks. He leaned against the brick wall outside the Grand Ballroom and stationed her in front of him, her lovely, firm backside snuggled against his dick. All eyes turned toward the sky, and no one noticed the two of them hidden in the shadows.
He laced his fingers across her flat stomach and, with his thumbs, purposefully traced the elastic line of her panties stretched well below her belly button. That's my girl. Sexy dress, sexy panties. She wrapped her hands tightly around his wrists. Her stomach trembled in and out with nervous, rapid breaths. That she responded so easily to him was a huge turn on.
He hadn't told her that he'd be gone soon or that he didn't know for how long. He wanted her but had no right to seek a deeper connection than a one-night stand. He wished things could be different, but they weren't. Leaning closer, he nudged her hair back with his chin, nibbled kisses along her shoulder and up her neck to her ear. He felt her every gasp reverberate through his body and loved that her reactions to him were so powerful. He'd played nice all afternoon, acting the perfect gentleman when all he really wanted to do was slide his aching cock inside her hot, tight pussy. Time to see if she felt the same way.
Holding firmly with one splayed hand over her belly, he slid the other one down, around her hip to palm her ass cheek through the thin material of her dress. He felt her stomach jerk but couldn't hear if she moaned because fireworks had started exploding in the air above them. Slipping his hand further down, he trailed under the skirt to touch skin. Bare flesh. Her soft thigh. Curving around it, he brushed a thumb over the silk covering her pussy. Her nails dug into the hand on her belly, but it wasn't sending him a message to stop.
His thumb caressed over and over, lured to spread and play with puffy lips, until she squirmed and pumped her hips backward into his cock. Wiggling his fingers under the elastic, he came face-to-face, so to speak, with her pubic hair. Face-to-pussy would come later tonight.
He delved a finger further into the crease between her lips, and this time he could hear her groan. His mouth close to her ear, he growled, "Quiet. Don't cry out." He fingered and squeezed her swollen lips, slip-sliding through the moisture to her vagina. Circling the rim, he drove in shallowly, drove in just with the tip of his finger. Holding it in a second, dipping back out, he felt her body's reflexive clutch. She rolled his cock with her ass. Yes, ma'am.
He delved in.
Out.
In.
He felt her groans through vibration on his chest. "Shh," he murmured, blowing hot breath across her ear. "Shh, baby. You feel so good—wet. Want more?"
She pressed back hard against him, shimmied under his hand. She grasped the arm headed into her pussy, digging her nails into his skin.
"I wish I could suck your clit, honey," his voice going husky with need.
She nodded, her head knocking back against his breastbone.
He nibbled at her ear, kissing, tonguing it. Her eyes were squeezed shut. He didn't think she even heard him.
"Come, baby. I want you to come."
Her lips parted. "Yes," she groaned.
He spun her around, backed her to the wall, using his body to block her from the chance curiosity of any bystanders, and plunged two fingers deep inside her. His eyes rolled around in their sockets, and, even after warning her to be quiet, he groaned aloud at the feel of the pulsing, rippling walls of her pussy. A pussy that massaged his fingers rhythmically. Like a heartbeat.
She opened her eyes, her mouth as if to scream.
He slammed his lips down on hers to cut her off, a last vestige of gentlemanliness so no one in the crowd near them would know what was going on. He was on the edge of his control, but he still had some left to hold her while she shuddered apart in his arms.
Bed. Naked. Lorren. Sex with Lorren.
Blasts and the sharp, shrill whistling of the fireworks shook him. He wasn't sure if it was in arousal or in terror. He'd been in firefights and didn't know if he'd ever be able to enjoy the rockets' red glare in a peacetime setting. The crowd cheering was what he heard when he came back to himself and the present.
Why was that future horror in his thoughts when he should be focusing on the beautiful, sexy, responsive woman who had just combusted right in his very hands? And would again if he had anything to say about it.
Chapter Five
"Uhh..." No! Stop! Lorren rolled over in bed and dumped herself onto the floor. "Ugh." And still the earsplitting clamor continued, paused, continued, paused until she thought she'd go mad.
It was the phone. She reached up for it on the bedside table, thought better of that idea, and closed her eyes again. Oh, damn, now I'm awake. Her eyes open to slits, she recognized the purple fuzzy rug next to her own bed. So she wasn't in a fancy hotel. She felt her cheeks flush at the memory of the night before. What had happened? What she'd allowed Jess to do to her out in public, no less had been the most amazing, frightening, arousing, sensual, exciting experience in her life.
She'd been so shocked and embarrassed that
all she'd wanted to do was go home. Alone. He had shattered her existence, the whole day had been a dream date, and she had to escape. There was no future for a thirty-two-year-old woman from Chicago and a twenty-eight-year-old cowboy from Idaho. There was no sense in pursuing it further just to be heartbroken when he went home to his ranch and his cows. And she didn't do one-night stands. Hadn't for years.
He'd been astounded and not a little disgruntled when she'd begged to be put in a taxi alone, but he hadn't argued. She'd looked over her shoulder out the back window of the cab to see him standing there, legs spread, fists on hips in an aggressive and, at the same time, a confused stance. "Ohh." She buried her face in shame in the soft fur of her rug. He must think she was just a little prick tease.
Pushing to her feet, she glanced at the caller ID. Monica's number. After going to the bathroom and starting coffee, she called her friend back. "Hi, Mon, I'm sorry. I was sleeping."
"It's eleven o'clock in the morning. You must have had a great night," Monica said. "I wasn't even sure if you'd be home. Are you going to tell me all?"
"Oh, Monica, he's wonderful."
"You don't sound so happy about it. So you didn't stay with him last night, or you did and already got home? Or—is he there?" Her voice lowered conspiratorially.
"I didn't stay. I couldn't." She had no idea how to explain it to her best friend. It sure didn't make any sense in the bright light of morning.
"And why not? You said he was wonderful."
Lorren took a sip of coffee. "You probably didn't realize it, but he's only twenty-eight."
"And sooo?"
"Four years younger. And he lives in Idaho."
"Oh-kay."
"Well, I don't want a one-night stand with a younger man who lives in Idaho, for God's sake."
"Isn't that the perfect kind of guy to have a one-night stand with?"
Lorren sighed unhappily. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"
"So tell me what you did all afternoon."
Lorren topped off her coffee, curled into her wing back chair in the living room, tucked her feet under her, and began, "First off, he was a half hour late."
"Ugh."
"Yeah, well, he apologized so sweetly that I let it go. Then we went to lunch at Riva."
"Wow, classy guy."
"Yeah, he was classy all the way."
"What else?"
"We kissed—several times." Her head dropped to rest on the back of the chair and let the memory of those heated kisses surround her.
"Is that all?" Monica asked pointedly.
Could she tell her best friend what they did? What he did?
"Huh?"
"Well, no."
"Are you going to make me beat it out of you? Just get it over with and tell me the rest," Monica demanded, laughter coloring her appeal.
"He did—stuff to me."
"Stuff?"
"Yeah, you know—with his—fingers."
"Oh God, Lorren. Where?"
"You know."
"I mean where were you, you idiot?"
"Oh. We were at Navy Pier during the fireworks."
"Jesus. Did anyone see you?"
"No, I doubt it. We were way back in a corner in the dark, and everyone was looking up at the fireworks."
"Okay, so then what happened?"
"I freaked out and came home."
"You're kidding."
"No."
"Freaked out about what exactly?"
Lorren slumped down until her elbows balanced on the arms of the chair. "Oh Mon, why get all heated up with a guy who's younger and who lives in a far away state? It was safer to leave him."
"So, let me get this straight. You got your rocks off, and he didn't."
"Jeez, when you put it that way."
"Well, what other way is there to put it?"
Lorren sighed. "I guess there isn't. I'll admit it was a bit of a prick tease thing to do."
"I'll say. I think you owe him..."
"Owe him! Monica! I don't owe him a thing."
"...an apology is what I was saying."
"Do you think he'd even want to talk to me again?" Her affront turned to uncertainty and took the wind out of her sails.
"Did he have a good time, that is until you left him with blue balls?"
She had to laugh at Monica's way of putting it. "Yeah, he seemed to."
"Well, all you can do is offer an apology, maybe take him out for a drink. If he says no, well, then that's that. If he says yes, then good."
"Maybe I could do that." She rolled her eyes. She didn't do apologies too well, but she supposed Jess deserved one.
"Just do it. He was so gorgeous Friday night. So nice to us girls. You had fun with him yesterday. It's worth a try."
"Okay, okay."
"Okay, so just do it. And call me back with what he said. I'll be waiting."
***
"Jess Croften's room please."
"Mr. Croften has checked out, ma'am."
"Pardon me? He checked out? Um, okay, well, thank you." He's gone. I guess that's that then. Her mind whirled. Had he said he was leaving today? She didn't think so, but then he hadn't said how long he'd be in town.
He hadn't called her. Why should he? But then her phone was unlisted, so he couldn't have called since she didn't think to give him her number. But she hadn't expected to run out on him last night either.
Wow. She didn't know what to think. So she called Monica back. "He checked out."
"Did he say he was leaving today?"
"No, he didn't say anything about it."
"You said he came in on the train. He's probably leaving on the train. Why don't you go down to Union Station and look for him."
"You mean chase him?
"It's not chasing. It's—oh, I don't know, it's just looking for him to say you had a nice time." The sarcasm sounded loud and clear in Monica's voice.
"It would be better to leave it alone. Why pursue something when there's no future anyway?"
"How do you know that?"
"I don't, damn it, but still—I don't even know what train he's on or when it leaves. And I probably couldn't get down there in time," she temporized.
"You can try. Lorren, are you going to let this one go, or are you going to do something about it?"
"He was a good guy. Really. He doesn't deserve to be dumped like this."
"Go. And call me."
"There's no future in it. I'm just being polite," she claimed.
"Sure, okay, just do it."
At first Lorren didn't see Jess at the station through the milling crowd of soldiers in camouflage uniforms. Were these men and women going off to the Middle East? She wanted to pat everyone of them on the back and wish them—what? Good luck? Safe journey? That and a safe return for sure. Her gaze swept their faces, all so young as they trekked toward the outgoing platform.
"Lorren?"
She heard her name coming from the middle of the crowd. Turning, she spotted him. Jess? Out of the group, he strode toward her, his expression confused. "How'd you know where I was?"
"I didn't," she sputtered. "I mean, are you a soldier?" That was brilliant, since he was in camouflage too.
"Hey, Croften, you comin'?"
He glanced quickly over his shoulder. "Yeah, five minutes." He then focused again on her.
She'd had time to collect her thoughts. "Jess, what's going on?"
"We're taking the train downstate to the Air Force base. See, this is why I hate flying." He seemed flustered and brushed nervous fingers over his head.
That's when she noticed. Somewhere between last night and this morning, his hair was gone. "I don't understand."
"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I'm an Army Ranger, and my unit is deploying to the Middle East."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He scuffed his big, tan boot on the floor. Every word seemed dragged out of him. "I knew I was leaving and couldn't let myself become attached to anyone. It wouldn't have been fair."
His eyes softened, his lips opened on a sharp breath. "I had a wonderful time yesterday, Lorren. It was the perfect memory to take with me. And I will. I promise you."
"I did too." She smiled then. "Would you write to me so I know how you are? I can give you my e-mail address. Do you have one, over there I mean? No obligation. Just if you feel like talking to someone back home."
"I'd like that." His eyes melted like hot fudge, intense hot fudge.
"Hey, Lou!"
He waved his hand.
"Lou? Is that your real name?" What the hell…?
"No, no, I gave you my real name. Lou is short for lieutenant. That's what I am. First Lieutenant Jess Croften, at your service, Ma'am." He executed a crisp salute, back ramrod straight, heels together, eyes serious.
Well, didn't she feel like an idiot? "I'm sorry. I'm just so surprised by all this." Digging in her purse, she pulled out a slip of paper and a pen. "Here's my e-mail address. Please write if you want to, if you can. I'd be honored to hear from you."
Taking the paper, he slipped it in the breast pocket of his camo shirt. "Thanks. And I really did have a great time."
She bit at her bottom lip. "I have to say I'm sorry about leaving you the way I did. I mean—after what you did, and um—I didn't reciprocate."
He shook his head. "I won't say I understand why you left, but it was your right. You don't owe me an explanation." He brushed his thumb over the lip she'd been crushing. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself." His brows flew up, and they both burst into laughter. "That's not what I meant, but—well—yes," he finished sheepishly.
She buried her face in her hands and laughed until she cried. Gorgeous, sexy, funny, intelligent, self-deprecating. The man had it all.