Indulgence (340 page)

“I’m ready, Armando.”

“I like to watch how you just throw yourself into things,”
he said. “It’s sexy as hell.”

Yup. That’s me. I just jump right in where I don’t
belong. Get myself all tangled up with the men in my life. Can’t say yes. Can’t
stop trying.

Sexy? Did he say sexy?

She exhaled and set the nearly finished drink down on the
table. Her hands were shaking and covered in the syrupy sweetness. He picked up
her fingers again and began to suckle each one. Then he concentrated on wiping
them down with a napkin he pressed between his warm palms.

“All better.” He tipped her chin in his direction. “Shall we
go, honey?”

She hoped she didn’t have a lapdog look to her face, but his
brown curly hair and warm brown eyes made her melt. She felt like she was
thirteen with that first crush on the minister’s son in junior high.

Her adult voice surprised her. “Yes. Let’s go.”

She didn’t remember the slow ride to his place, over the
tall bridge that used to take her breath away when she traveled over it early
on. She loved the feeling growing inside her stomach with the knowledge that
she would be making love with him tonight, in his bed, in the place he went to
for solace, where he repaired himself after missions, where he looked at
himself in the mirror in the morning, where he shaved, where he tied his shoes
and foraged for granola. She wanted all the regular, ordinary things about this
man to be part of her routine, part of what she got to witness. There had never
been this kind of connection in her life before.

So satisfying was the thought that they were both circling
the wagons, chasing each other, like she used to do as a child. She was trying
not to get caught, and desperately wanting to be caught at the same time.

She knew that with the CD she had provided Kozinski, if
there was enough there, perhaps this mission would all be over with by Monday.
They’d have the evidence they would need on Carlos. Sam would be out of her
life forever, just as Armando had requested.

Was this what they talked about when they talked of love?
That full feeling at the pit of her stomach, full of promise, sparked with
erotic fantasies that came over her all the time now. She wanted to stretch the
length of the bed and feel as much of his flesh against hers as was possible.
This was the way you felt when you were really, madly, deeply in love.

And to think not more than an hour ago she was considering
giving all this up.

Where was my head?

Storm clouds started to rush in, and she bid them leave.
Whatever it was, she didn’t want to think about anything but what was going to
happen tonight in his bedroom.

An hour later, Gina woke up in Armando’s bed, startled at
first. His tanned, sleek, dangerous body was covering hers, his hips pinning
her down, just as they had when he’d made love to her. He’d been extra gentle.
He let her show him how fast to go and what to do. He asked her what she
wanted.

Asked me.

She adjusted her right hip and moved her thigh down the back
of his. He awakened with a quick inhale. Those brown bedroom eyes of his
immediately honed in on her lying underneath him and he smiled. She traced the
creases at the right of his mouth, twisting her head and looking at the growth
of stubble already forming on his chin as well as underneath it. Time was
suspended in the hush between their two hearts beating, pressed flesh against
flesh.

“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed him.

“For what?” He winked and gave her a half smile in jest.

“For making me feel safe. Safest I’ve felt in a long time.”

“Oh, really?” His eyes went elsewhere. Then he returned, “I
don’t hear that very often. Most people are afraid of me.”

He wasn’t smiling, so she had to ask. “Women are afraid of
you?”

“I think so. Self-preservation.”

It was her time to frown. “I have a hard time thinking of a
SEAL as anything but heroic. Protector of the innocent. Upholding everything
good and holy. All that.”

Armando smirked.

There was something there Gina wanted to see. “What?”

“We have our dark places too.”

“What, making love to women without protection? That’s the
worst you’ve done with me.” She noticed he’d begun a devilish grin. “Don’t you
like being thought of as heroic?”

“Yes. I like to be trusted.”

“Heroic.” Gina didn’t understand the distinction.

“You can’t trust anyone unless you give them the power to
hurt you.”

Gina felt this was odd as a ghost shivered up her spine.
There had been a threshold crossed into a different room. She wanted to know
more. She was desperate to know more.

“I trust you, but far from hurting me, you make me
feel…wonderful,” she said.

“You don’t even know me,” he answered, giving her a long,
liquid kiss.

“I trusted you to screw me in the back of a pickup truck,”
Gina began. Armando was biting the side of her neck and her right earlobe. “I
trusted you to take me home to your bedroom, your bed. I’ve thrown a little
caution to the wind.” She looked at the ceiling to the right of his head. She
was searching for something to say, but couldn’t come up with it. Armando found
her left nipple and gave her a nip. She did not move away from the pain.

“You regret anything we’ve done?” he asked.

“It excites me to think about those things.” Gina realized
this was the missing piece she’d been looking for earlier.

“Screwing in the back of a strange pickup truck.”

“With people driving by, maybe guessing what we were doing,”
she said. The more she thought about it, she remember it had been a totally hot
lay. Possibly the best of her life, until today.

“You liked that too, huh?”

“Heightens the pleasure, I think. We couldn’t wait to get
home.”

“And we almost couldn’t wait today. But we did.” He nuzzled
her neck. “Ah Gina, Gina, Gina.”

It occurred to her that perhaps he wanted something more for
round two. “So what are you saying, Armando?”

“Nothing. We should get up and get dressed.” He abruptly
stopped kissing her.

He had begun to go somewhere else inside. She could see a
faraway look on his face as he stared out the window. She needed his eyes on
her. She needed his total focus on her.

“Do
you
want to get dressed?” she asked.

He dazzled her again with a white smile. “Well, this is
pretty nice.”

“Pretty nice. Gee, just what a girl wants to hear.”

“Okay,” he said between kisses. “It was wonderful.”

She had an idea that began to thrill her. “How can I show
you I trust you, then? What can I do?”

A spark registered deep in his brown eyes, some small flame
that could flare out of control.

“Everyone has a dangerous side, Gina.” He did not smile this
time.

“A dangerous side that is in need of someone to trust it.”

“Yes.” He was looking down at the space between her breasts.
His penis was fully erect, and could penetrate her if he moved that way. She
decided to resist him a little. Maybe that’s what he wanted, after all.

“So, make me trust you,” she said.

“No. You already have.”

“So do something else.” She tried to make eye contact, but
he was avoiding her.

“Something dangerous?” he finally asked as he searched her
face, and placed his thumbs at her temples.

“If that’s what you want,” she said. Her heart was thumping.
She was heading into dangerous ground. Where was all this leading?

“Is that what you want?”

“I want to give you something I have not given anyone
before.”

“What are you most afraid of, Gina?”

She wasn’t sure. She wondered what fears, demons he had killed
off. What kinds of fears had he had to face? Was he asking her to go along that
pathway with him?

“Or, who are you most afraid of?” he corrected.

“That’s easy. Sam.”

“So, why do you let him see you? Is there a place you go,
like being in the pickup truck being seen by strangers? Does seeing him make
you excited?”

“No. I am actually afraid.”

“Because you don’t trust him.”

“Because I know he wants to hurt me. Deep down, I know he
wants to hurt me.”

“That’s a good instinct. That instinct will keep you alive,
Gina.”

“Is this what you do when you are over there?”

“Yes.”

“You face your fears, you rely on instinct? You starve the
dog of fear?”

“Yes.” He moved over her, smoothing his callused palms over
her breasts. Sifting his fingers through her hair, he bent down and kissed her.
“I’m sorry you were hurt, Gina. You’ve got scars, just like I do.”

“Yes. Heal me, Armando.”

“Babe, I wish I could. But just being here, close like this,
telling each other things like this.” He dropped lower and started a slow tongue
roll from her nipple to her navel, and then lower. “Letting me taste you,” he
whispered as he twirled her clitoris with his tongue. “Opening up to me.”

She spread her knees further as he inserted two fingers.
Gina exploded as a slow vibration began to hum inside her belly.

“Everything that’s supposed to happen will happen,” he said
as he looked up at her from the space between her thighs. “And know this. I
would never hurt you, lovely Gina. You’ll always be safe with me.”

Thank God for Saturday mornings,
Gina thought as she
stretched. Her hands hit the bedframe and the images of her fingers gripping
the cool metal while Armando worked his magic between her legs made her
suddenly wet. The bed—
his
bed—was cold and empty beside her. But she
could smell fresh coffee and something cooking and she knew he wasn’t gone.

The bedroom was sparse, like hers was. But he wasn’t
undercover, like she was. She’d given up her studio cottage—the one she’d loved
down by the beach. She’d toyed with the idea of going back there to visit.
She’d have walked down the white sandy spans and turned up the narrow brick
pathway to her cottage only a block away. She missed being able to open her
windows and smell the salt water and mist first thing in the morning. Until the
affair with Sam started, she’d always slept like a baby there.

Like last night. As she moved her legs over his white sheets
underneath the green down coverlet, she felt the delicious soreness in her
core. That place he had tasted, touched with his fingers, and so royally
screwed. Her nipples were still raw from all the kissing and biting. Her wrists
were slightly sore where she’d tugged and struggled against the silk.

All good. It’s all good.

She saw a picture on his dresser and rose from the bedding
naked to take a better look. It was a picture of him in his dress whites. His
tanned face was stunning contrast to the bright white jacket with the gold
buttons. Above one pocket encrusted with ribbons, she recognized the gold SEAL
Trident. Next to him stood a very short woman with salt and pepper braided hair
pinned to her head like a crown. The woman was beaming. On the other side of
Armando, Mia stood, looking no older than a young girl. She already had a wild
and tempestuous look.

There was a picture of five men dressed in fatigues,
shirtless, jumping off a bridge together. She recognized Fredo and guessed it
was some right of passage their team had gone through.

She separated the blinds and looked outside at the sliver of
a view of the ocean. She preferred her old cottage, but the ocean was the same.
Rolling quietly, as its namesake: Pacifico.

There wasn’t anything else in the room that was personal,
and this seemed odd to her. His sliding closet door had been installed with a
lock and she guessed he had equipment and probably guns stored there. She
placed her elbows on the dresser top and examined her face between her palms.
The woman she saw there looked happy. Dizzy in love. She felt safe and taken
care of.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.
Armando was standing in a pair of shorts and white V-necked T-shirt, holding
two white mugs of coffee. He had leaned into the doorway and had been watching
her. As soon as they made eye contact he smiled that brilliant white smile that
made his eyes sparkle.

“How long have you been standing here?” she blurted,
embarrassed.

He peeled himself off the doorframe and came toward her,
extending one steaming mug. “Not long. I just like to watch you.”

“You seem to do that a lot,” she said as she accepted the
mug. Their fingers touched as she took the coffee. The electric zing she got
sent a jolt right to that spot between her legs. Her body ached for him again,
just with that little touch.

He must have felt the same, as he set down his mug and came
around the backside of her. She took a sip of the wonderfully dark coffee while
he nuzzled her neck, bringing his warm palms to her chest. His breathing became
deeper. The SEAL smelled of bacon but she still found it sexy. She could barely
get another sip in before he brought his face to rest next to hers, cheek to
cheek, as they looked at each other in the mirror’s reflection.

There were no words to express how wonderful it felt being
next to him, waking up in the room that he woke up in every morning—hopefully
every morning, that is. To emerge naked from his bed and be here, as he’d told
her last night, where no other woman had been before. That felt significant.
Could this be the start of something long lasting? Dare she even consider such
a hope?

Dark clouds began to gather, but now he was kissing the back
of her neck and under one ear. “Gina, I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed,
but—” he stopped himself as he turned her around slowly, pulling back her hair
and searching her face. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

“I feel the same.” She stepped to press herself against his
chest. Her fingers laced over his buttocks as she gently pulled his groin into
her belly. She fondled him while he watched the arousal her hands made.