Dance With Me (8 page)

He thrust slowly at first, hard strokes that took him so deeply inside of her that Rebecca felt a twinge of pain with each plunge. She lifted her hips, pushing herself against him until the angle was just right, the pressure against her clit perfect and constant. Rebecca clung to him, loving the feel of his rough chest against her nipples, the slickness of sweat that coated their bodies.

Major increased his pace, hammering against her until Rebecca clenched around him tightly, struggling for the orgasm that hovered so close. Her movements grew frantic, and small moans escaped her with each rough thrust of Major’s hips. He bit down on her neck, and Rebecca’s entire body clenched and held before her orgasm exploded through her. Major’s plunges slowed and became jerky, probably due to the death grip she had on him. Rebecca ground her pelvis against his, working herself up and down his length until the rippling spasms ceased.

When Rebecca relaxed around him, Major pulled her arms down to her sides and pushed until she was lying on the table. His eyes were glazed with desperation and his hands clenched her hips in a bruising grip.

Rebecca palmed her breasts, pushing them together beneath his watchful gaze. Major groaned and pounded wildly into her, his eyes darting back and forth from her breasts to their joined bodies. He covered Rebecca’s hands with his and tugged her nipples until they ached.

A harsh groan was torn from Major’s chest and his pace slowed suddenly. Rebecca felt the hot spurts of his release deep inside and squeezed her pussy around him. He drove into her over and over, each plunge accompanied by the wet sound of sex.

When the last ounce of pleasure was drained from him, Major leaned over her and placed his hands next to Rebecca’s head. He kissed her softly, massaging her tongue with his.

Major finally lifted his head and just stared at her, his expression severe and closed once more. His eyes though, his eyes were soft and Rebecca thought she saw a smile for just an instant. He stood, tugging her to a sitting position and pulled his penis from her.

Rebecca looked down. She barely noticed the burn scar that covered his left hip and thigh. What she did observe, however, was that his dick was still as erect as it had been when he’d first shucked his pants, despite the fact that it was coated in his cum. Rebecca blinked rapidly and looked up at him.
Great sex doesn’t happen often.

“Are you up for a double header?” Rebecca trailed a finger from his collarbone, down his chest and abs, and to the tip of his penis.

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Major didn’t smile or wait for a response. He simply lifted Rebecca with his hands beneath her ass and turned to carry her to the bed.

Chapter 6

The major stood by Rebecca’s bed, fully clothed and shoes in hand. He soaked her in, trying to commit every detail to memory. The major didn’t have many good memories to call upon, and this was one he didn’t want to fade. He wanted to remember the sound of the rain, softer than it had been earlier; the distant crash of thunder as the storm moved on; the way the moonlight spilled from the window and across Rebecca’s bare form as she slept peacefully.

The major knew, deep down, that he should forget every second he’d spent in Rebecca’s presence and realign his focus to the mission. After all, it was only a single night, a handful of incredible orgasms, and it may have been a one-night stand for her. But he wouldn’t forget it,
couldn’t
, because for him it was so much more.

She’d seen his scars, knew there was blood on his hands, and had accepted him anyway. That
meant
something to him, dammit, and the major was afraid it might be the last thing that did.

Rebecca stirred and hummed softly in her sleep, a slight smile turning up her lips. The major drank in the sight of her hungrily, memorizing every curve, line, and curl on her body. He wanted to stay, to crawl back into bed with her and hold her until dawn. He steeled himself against the urge.

The major took one last, lingering look and turned away. He moved silently through the house and locked the door before closing it soundlessly behind him. He couldn’t stay. With a resigned, painful sigh, the major walked away, trying very hard to ignore the tightness in his chest.

As he’d done countless times, he tucked his humanity into a deep, dark corner of his subconscious and let the Black Ops soldier take over.

* * * *

Rebecca’s alarm went off at six in the morning, the irritating screech jolting her awake and into a sitting position. She looked around groggily, trying to find the rolling alarm clock. It was quite possibly the most irritating alarm clock on the face of the earth, which also made it the most effective.

When Rebecca was in college, her friend Tara Marshall had given her the stupid little thing in an attempt to cure Rebecca’s chronic tardiness. The first rolling alarm clock had suffered a tragic accident. It had rolled off Rebecca’s nightstand and under the bed before it had taken a one-way flight out of a third-story dorm room window.

This was Rebecca’s fourth moving clock, and she had a sneaky suspicion it would soon suffer a similar fate. As she crawled under the bed in search of the offensive screeches, Rebecca muttered, “I’ll get you, you little bastard.”

She squeezed herself as far under the bed as she could and finally reached the alarm. She flipped the button on the top to turn it off and scooted backward until she was no longer in danger of whacking her head on the bottom of her bed.

With an irritated sigh, Rebecca leaned against her bed and closed her eyes. A warm stickiness between her thighs became obvious and then uncomfortable. Rebecca snapped her eyes open when the events of the previous night came back.

Major. The major. Whatever. Is he still here?
Trying her best to be silent, Rebecca turned and glanced into her bed. No one. She sat back down with a
plop
and buried her face in her hands as the memories came back in graphic detail.

“Squeeze me. Like you did before.” A deep groan, then, “Holy fucking hell, that’s incredible. Again.”

Rebecca shook her head from side to side, hysterical laughter spilling from her lips.

“What are you doing?” Rebecca watched Major nervously.

“Cleaning you.” He wiped gently with a washcloth. “I want to make you come with my tongue. And then I want you to return the favor.” A cynical smile then, “If you want to.”

Rebecca peeped from between her fingers, a little giddy from the realization that she’d finally had great sex. She stood with a little hop and giggle and danced across her room to the bathroom. Great sex. Capital letters, bold, italics, underlined.

And now Major was gone and Rebecca would never see him again. Her little dance halted and her smile faded.
Where did he go? Is he safe? Will he come back?

Rebecca may not have known the answer to the first two questions, but she certainly knew the answer to the third.
No, he’ll never come back.
Her heart thudded and dropped. Already she wanted to see him again. Not Rick, with his falseness, but Major. Major, who was plagued by his past, present, and future, but stood tall anyway, shouldering responsibility like Atlas and asking nothing in return.

Rebecca’s eyes burned and she blinked back tears. She would not cry. She’d known the instant she reached her hand out to touch him that he couldn’t stay, that one night was all they would ever have. And she’d touched him anyway.

“Don’t.” His eyes were fierce, heated, and desperate with a longing she knew he didn’t want to show. “Not if you’re just teasing me.”

Rebecca closed her eyes against the remembrance and braced herself. Keeping her mind carefully blank she began her morning routine to get ready for school.

The day dragged by for Rebecca, filled with flurries of children that were constantly excited. They were always high-strung for weeks after Christmas break because everyone knew that summer vacation was approaching. She loved her students, each and every one of them, and always cried when the school year ended. But she was tense the entire day, due in part to her night with Major, and the children’s restlessness proved difficult.

When the final bell rang, Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief.
Finally.
The rain was back, a soft drizzle that often signified no lightning was forthcoming. Rebecca was glad because that meant she could drive to the pier. And she desperately needed a good, cleansing walk in the rain after the previous night. Something to clear her head. It was out of the way, but an ocean side stroll in the rain would soothe her frayed nerves.

The parking lot was empty when Rebecca arrived, due to the weather and the time of year. Late January was too cold for beachcombers to be out, despite how unseasonably warm it had been. Rebecca paid for parking and headed for the dock. The dark gray of old, faded wood stretched before her, gentle waves lapping at the beams and the slow pitter-patter of rain already hushing her riotous thoughts. Rebecca knew that with her past, the ocean and rain were two things that should scare her most. Instead they gave her a sense of direction and comfort.

Rebecca stopped at the halfway point and leaned against the rail. She tilted her face to the sky and smiled. Sometimes, if she tried really hard, she could recall a few good memories.

“You have to put your faith somewhere. Why not in God?” Mrs. Rousseau’s voice grated. It was the speech of someone who had smoked a pack a day—probably from birth.

“If God was as good as you say, He would have saved me already.” Rebecca pressed the ice pack against her eye.

A growling laugh. “Have you asked?”

Rebecca closed her eyes. Mrs. Rousseau had been right. Sometimes you have to ask for what you want or need. While Rebecca wasn’t religious on the level of Bible-thumping, she did believe in…something. It wasn’t faith, though. It was knowledge. She’d been given irrefutable proof in a higher power long ago and had never questioned it.

Rebecca watched as a Volkswagen slid off the road and into a ditch. Hard-driving rain pushed against her skin with bruising force. Hail bounced off her skull and the wind whipped at her hair and clothing. But she continued walking, her steps sure and steady despite the tempest.

Rebecca shivered and straightened, turning those thoughts off.
Thar be dragons.
She continued strolling to the end of the dock, her thoughts meandering back to Major.

“Most people are basically good.”

How could someone like Major believe that? He’d seen things to rival the evil of her childhood. He should be as critical and guarded as she was. But Rebecca had watched as Major shed more than his clothes. His mask had fallen away sometime in the darkness and desire, revealing a shattered and worn man. And somewhere beneath all the shadows was a man who assumed most people were fundamentally decent. It was beautiful—
he
was beautiful—in a broken, dejected way. The way a landscape was beautiful after fall and winter had ravaged the life there. It was raw and stunning in its sheer ability to break the heart.

Rebecca sighed as sadness soaked into her skin as surely as the frigid raindrops. Major was the first
real
man she’d known. The first man who’d given all of himself for the greater good. Even Dillan—ugh,
especially
Dillan—and the SEAL teams he worked with didn’t sacrifice themselves so fully. Major was everything she should hate, just like the rain. He was a Uniform, whether he wore it or not, and he answered to no one. But much like the gales that gave her peace, Rebecca couldn’t hate him. Major was her storm, the man she’d never allowed herself to long for. And she’d gotten one beautiful, perfect night with him to last her a lifetime.

Rebecca sighed and choked back tears. She didn’t want to cry, but dammit, it was so unfair. Her life pretty much boiled down to two spectacular nights: one with Major and one alone. Different in every possible way, but equally powerful. She didn’t want two soul-wrenching moments. She wanted a lifetime with tiny bits of happiness scattered here and there, and she suspected Major would have been able to give her that if he was free. Rebecca pressed her palms against her eyes. She wasn’t meant to have a life with sprinkles on top the way her friends were. She’d tried to force it with Dillan and look at what a disaster that had been.

Finally at the end of the dock, Rebecca propped her elbows on the splintery wood and watched the water disappear beneath the warped timbers of the wharf. The gray sky had begun to give way to twilight and Rebecca squinted at the ripples caressing the lapping water. She couldn’t have Major and she wouldn’t settle for anything less. Nothing less would make her happy.

Happy.
She sighed and closed her eyes. She would never have what her friends had—a loving family, a tender husband, and eventually a house full of children. But she could do the same thing she’d done for nine years: hang on to what she
did
have with fierceness and determination. She could appreciate the one night she’d had with Major, and hold his memory close as long as she could.

It was dark by the time Rebecca left, feeling her way along the splintery planks of the unlit dock until she came to the dim lighting of the parking lot. She drove home, feeling much more at peace than she had in months.

Chapter 7

The major flung the sheaf of papers he was studying across the room and watched them flutter to the floor. Two weeks. It had been two fucking weeks and every time it goddamn rained he couldn’t focus. He’d get restless, feverish, and consumed with flashes of pale skin and dark red hair. Then he’d get the hard-on from hell.
This is ridiculous.
The major stared at the scattered phone records he’d been perusing, though his mind was as far from his mission as it was possible to be.

It was supposed to be one time. Just once. He’d known that from the start, when he’d made a split second decision to follow Rebecca out the door instead of letting her go. The major had understood at the end when he stood watching her sleep that he would never be able to touch her again.