Army of You & Me (10 page)

“I’m asking myself the same damn question.”

“Madeline.”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you have the decency to wear deodorant. Or you wear T-shirts that are clearly too small for you. You’re freaking weird. And you know it but you don’t care. You still laugh. About everything, and you don’t have nightmares about what you’ve seen. Did I say you were weird? At the same time you’re normal. For a man who’s been back and forth to war you’re more normal than the men around here. And you haven’t pushed me about sex or anything until right this minute, so I take it back. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you right now.”

Cain unfolded his arms, his eyes shining with amusement. “That’s quite a list.”

“I said I take it back,” she said petulantly, scuffing the carpet with a toe. A glance up told her she needn’t have bothered saying that.

“Okay.” His voice was soft. “You take it back. For now.”

“I meant it.”

“I’m sure you did, Madeline Grace, but here’s the thing. I’m going to make you admit it. Guaranteed by the end of today you’ll say it. See where you are with your resolve.”

She edged back. “I...”

He stepped into her space, and she lost her breath. “You think I’m worthy of it. I’ll prove it to you.” Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over her eyebrow and trailed the tip of his nose over her cheek. She couldn’t quite breathe even though there was the smallest distance between them. “When you tell me again that you love me? It won’t be surrender. It’ll be a release.”

She stood her ground, tilting her chin in defiance. “I said I don’t even like you, so that’s not happening.” Stepping around him, she gathered up her keys. “I’m going to the shop for a little bit. You can stay here and…” She gestured to his form. “Evolve from Neanderthal.”

Cain’s smile was pure devilry. “I’m not going anywhere, Madeline. You take your time.”

***

She hid in the shop until well past closing time. Unnatural fear kept her from her own house, and each time a shadow fell across the front door, Madeline panicked that it was Cain. She hid in the back room to make chocolates and instead ended up having a fitful nap, half her face studded with freeze-dried strawberries.

“What’s he done?” Caz asked as they were closing the shop.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Because you’re behaving like an abused pet who’s worried their owner is coming back. What did he do? I knew he was a sex perv!”

Madeline closed her eyes to find some patience. “It’s not him. It’s me.”

“Bullshit.”

“It
is
me.”

Caz frowned. “Is he pushing you into sex?”

“No... I’m just... I don’t like the idea that I don’t have a choice about things. And sometimes he makes me feel like we’re just...destined.”

Caz rolled her eyes. “Jesus. Remind yourself you said this, and after you have disappointing and very rapid sex, remember how ridiculous you sounded.”

“What?”

“You always have a choice. That’s the beauty of the Western World. And you still have that switch knife I gave you for Christmas, don’t you? If you feel threatened, just stick it in his throat.”

Madeline growled in frustration. “You don’t understand!”

“You’re explaining it horribly, so no. I don’t.”

She breathed out. “Have you ever been afraid of something? Like swimming? And tried it to prove it’s not as bad as you think? But it is just as bad. And it doesn’t get any better. Even though you’ve tried swimming in different pools. That’s what the ‘s’ word is to me.”

“And you haven’t had the ‘s’ word with your squaddie?”

“No. Almost. But no.”

Caz seemed stumped. “I don’t get it. He’s all over you. And you get that moo face whenever you talk about him. Ah, well, most men are as thick as shit, so unless you spell it out, he won’t know. Is that it? I’m off out tonight and I want to go and get ready.”

By the time Madeline returned home, her stomach was in knots. But Cain was waiting patiently for her and had even made dinner. She watched him suspiciously as he talked about his parents’ admiration of her and how happy they were that he’d introduced her to them. “You’re not eating your steak.” He said when she failed to make anything more than a noncommittal murmur.

“You’ve evolved.”

He lifted his brows. “Tactics. I’m good at that.”

“I’m sure you are.”

He finished his glass of wine and stood up. “Shall we go for a walk?”

Madeline stayed in her chair. “Don’t you need to go home?”

“Nope.” He held out his hand to her, and she took it. “No hurry, Madeline. We’ve got all night.”

He led her out of the house and into a brisk stride. They walked along the park towards the bowling green, the night air still and cool. “Think the bar’s still open?” he asked, looking to the dark block where the bowls club met.

“It’s as dead as a cemetery in there.” Madeline sighed.

“Makes it easier for us to talk.” He released her hand to capture one shoulder-length twist between his thumb and forefinger. “What’s wrong? What are you so scared of?”

“You won’t get it,” she said, anxiously pressing her hands together.

“Get what? This morning? Madeline, that was entirely natural.”

She struggled to explain. “Everything I know about intimacy has never been natural for me. I’ve always had to…push myself to do…. To try to feel something.”

“And you think it’d be the same with me?”

“Maybe.”

His frown upset her. He didn’t understand. Of course not. He was a man – why would he understand why she’d be worried? Sex made her vulnerable. Took away her power. Sent her back to the screams and cries of Rwanda, no matter how hard she’d tried to bury it.

“Madeline,” he whispered, “it’s not about forcing yourself or lying back and thinking of England to pretend to be normal. All you have to do is talk to me.”

She scratched her eyelid, swallowing back tears. “I don’t want to sound like a slut, but I’m well into double figures, and all of them thought that they could change that about me. But it didn’t feel right. Never did. Ever. And I can’t help that I put sex and powerlessness together. Do you know?”

“It’s never about that. It’s just you and me. Your body, your wishes, your desires. Freedom. Choice. Simplicity. Pleasure.” He rested his forehead against hers, his mouth a breath away. “Pleasure like you’ve never known – no, the word’s inadequate. I can show you, but only if you let me. There’s no fear in being with me. Not like that. Never ever. I’d never want you to feel afraid of me.” He sucked in a breath and leaned back, almost out of her reach. “Am I pushing for too much?”

It was all she needed to hear from him for her brain to get in line with what her body was telling her.
Ride that man to Jericho
. Madeline dropped her bag on the grass and encircled his neck with her arms.

“No. You’re not.” The kiss was all in her control until Cain gave way to his own need and tightened his arms around her waist. Lifting her against him, he sat down on the grass. Her skirt hiked to the top of her thighs, and she revelled in her new freedom. Not thinking was much better. Not when there was lip and tongue and sigh and warmth to contend with. He changed position, lying down on the grass and manoeuvring her so she lay directly on top of him. What was he doing?

“Now?”

“Here,” he agreed gruffly.

“Out here?” She thought they were just having a little kiss! Taking her issue public was not what she’d had in mind.

“Right now. Right here. Yes, Madeline.” His roughened hands moved over her bare thighs and tugged at the edges of her panties. She had no idea what he’d make of her high-waisted vintage lingerie, but her mouth parted on a large ‘O’ shape when his thumbs brushed over the seams.

“What?” he asked, sliding the damp material over her knees before propping her legs on either side of his waist. When his palms cupped her bare buttocks, she couldn’t complete rational thought. The delicacy, the tenderness with which he touched her only stoked her fire.

“All right?” the mischief in his eyes made her grin. “Feel safe?”

“Very,” she whispered, touching her mouth to his stubbled jaw, then buried her face in his neck. He smelled divine, and she wanted to bury her nose all over him. Quickly, she unbuttoned his shirt to the waist and ran her fingers through the blond hair that covered the span of his torso. Her nails caught his nipples, and he sat up with her still braced against his chest. A rip told her that her panties weren’t going to be of use anymore, and he pulled them over her shoes. Slowly, he unbuttoned the front of her cardigan. “You look far too prim and proper,” he murmured, pressing light kisses to her neck, each one sending a shudder of delight over her skin.

“We’re on a bowling green.”

“So? Probably the most action it’s seen since the club opened in god-awful sixty-nine,” he argued, tugging the buttons of her knit cardigan open, unsnapping her bra and lowering the material until her nipples sprang free. In the cool air, they tightened automatically. Under the intensity of Cain’s gaze, they turned rock hard. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Cain lowered them both to the grass once more. “Doesn’t that feel better?” he asked.

Yes, yes, yes!
she thought, her body tingling with pleasure. The sensation of her bare breasts rubbing against his muscle bound chest, her nipples grazing his hair, edged her to something she didn’t begin to understand. She had to kiss him. It was the only thing that made sense. Her fingers speared through his hair, and his mouth opened under her own. His tongue tangled with hers. She wanted more, to taste more, feel more.

He groaned under her lips, the rumbling sound vibrating through her. Suddenly he gripped her buttocks once more.

“Cain,” she mumbled. “What...”

His hands moved beneath her and the sound of his belt unbuckling froze her. No. He wouldn’t. Not here. Seriously? She yelped as he lifted them both slightly from the cool grass and he shoved his trousers down. Something hot and very hard slapped against her thigh.

“Touch me,” he insisted. She hesitated and he lifted her skirt to her waist, yanking the material into obedience. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the length of his sex. She felt its velvet-soft smoothness, the ridges of the head, and the moistness at the tip. The more she stroked it in her palm, the more she wanted to know just how it would feel inside her; whether it would change this feeling now. Cain’s breathing changed with each stroke. He sounded pained, short of breath. She let his sex slip from her hand, her confidence faltering with the realisation that there was hardly anything separating them from the main road and a police caution.

With his hands in hers, he tugged her arms to either side of his head. “Keep them there,” he ordered. Carefully, he manoeuvred her until his sex aligned with her own. Panic set in immediately. Too soon, too soon!

Cain kissed her, his hands smoothing over the length of her back, sliding his sex against her moistness with the same languidness.

“Ooh,” she gasped. Oh, that was different. That was better. They slid smoothly against each other, the tip of his cock nudging at her clit at every stroke and yet not losing contact with her. Madeline’s breath was locked in her throat, seized by a building pressure within her. He controlled each stroke against her, using her buttocks to move her over his length. It was the oddest sensation. To feel the world had suddenly centred right between her thighs. All there was, was the two of them, him and her and an unbelievable feeling. Heat and tremors and indescribable reach pulling at every nerve inside her body.

The tip of his cock nudged against her opening and slipped inside. The pressure snapped, her pussy squeezing him out. But he edged her back down and entered her again. Unable to hold back the scream that ripped through her as pleasure exploded all over her to the tips of her fingers, her throat burned with the sound. At the same time, he surged into her, every single inch of him. She scrabbled at the grass then at his chest as her orgasm continued to grip her. The trembling seemed never-ending. Her palms were on fire against his chest, and he groaned. Even though it felt incredibly strange, she felt incredibly right.