It's Always Been You (15 page)

He urged her onto her back, using teeth and tongue and fingers to coax her body to heights she’d never flown. And when he kissed her where she ached for him, she nearly came off the bed. He held her, his hands on her hips as he feasted on her body.

It was only when she shuddered and tried to scoot away that he relented, a satisfied male smile on his lips even as he continued to stroke her slick, swollen heat. “Like that?”

“Oh, you definitely know how to make someone forget a bad day,” she said, shivering when he slid one finger inside her. “Oh!”

He kissed her as he stroked her body. Kissed away the darkness, the sadness, the sense of feeling nothing she ever did would be good enough.

* * *

He wanted this to be good for her. He’d known that when he’d agreed to follow her home. But as he slipped between her thighs, capturing her hands, threading her fingers with his as he found her center and slowly filled her, he realized he wanted more than just a casual encounter.

She made sexy noises in her throat. He kissed away the pain she caused when she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. And he urged her to ride the pleasure. “Don’t fight it,” he whispered. “Let go.”

She did. And it stunned him and dragged him under with her.

* * *

It was the tipping of the bed that woke her.

Her body hummed with latent arousal as she came fully awake. The sheets were warm on her skin where they wrapped around her body.

But it was the emptiness of the bed beside her that caught her attention.

Ben sat on the edge. She didn’t have to see his hands to see that he was pulling his boots on.

He glanced over at her when she sat up. He leaned into her and pressed his mouth to hers. No hurt. No acrimony.

But something less than what they’d just shared.

“I can’t sleep,” he confessed against her mouth. He lowered his forehead to hers. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” she said. She lifted her hand to let it rest on his opposite shoulder. Where the black ink bordered on clean, hot skin. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” she asked.

He looked away. “Yeah.”

“I think I can cure your insomnia,” she said.

He glanced back over at her. “Oh yeah?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she let the sheet slip low over the swell of her breast. Her nipples peaked at the sensation. They were sensitive and sore from his mouth, his touch, but still she wanted more.

He lifted one finger. Traced the outline of her nipple over the sheet warmed from her body heat.

His gaze locked on hers as he continued to stroke her gently. He tugged the sheet down, down over the stiff flesh.

She had never done this. Never looked into a man’s eyes with his hands on her body. Never watched his eyes darken and his breath catch as he touched her.

He slid his thumb over the bottom swell of her breast. A teasing touch, meant to torment.

It was Olivia who moved.

Who crawled into his lap and straddled his uniform-covered hips.

“Don’t go,” she whispered against his mouth.

And then there was no further thought.

Olivia looked at the packets on her passenger seat and sighed heavily. It was going to be a long week. Maybe if she could get notes done up on all the cases, she could make a dent in the work. She didn’t know why she kept lying to herself. She was never going to get caught up. Wasn’t that what her old boss always said? Work will always be there.

She smiled. She certainly didn’t have time for any more distractions named Ben Teague.

He’d left later that night. For a little while, she’d forgotten—at least until long after he’d gone—the darkness she’d been hoping to avoid. He’d made her laugh. Who laughed during sex?

Ben Teague, apparently. And now she did. She had no idea how he’d done it but he’d erased all of the darkness from her life with his tender, skilled fingers.

And she’d enjoyed every minute of it. It had been a hard thing not calling him over the weekend. A terrible temptation she struggled to contain.

And now she had to hide the sexual energy that prickled over her skin just thinking about him. She might as well wear a neon sign over her head that announced she and Ben Teague were lovers.

As she walked into his motor pool, needing to touch base with him about Foster and a few of the other packets, she put the stunning night she’d spent with him in a box and locked it away. She could meet up with all of the commanders and catch up with any actions from over the weekend.

She scooped up her packets and grabbed her hat as reality crowded out the memories of Saturday night and pushed away the lingering goodness of the memories.

It hadn’t taken long after Ben had left for the hard reality of her job to come crashing back. She’d awakened Sunday morning, her sheets soaked with sweat from the fear that she might fail to convince the commander to act. Her scars throbbed with the memory. She focused and tried to not let her emotions get the better of her.

She wasn’t usually nervous about cases but Ben’s words had haunted her into the night as she tried to chase elusive sleep. She took a deep breath and pushed away the memories of the nightmares and the anxiety. Olivia needed to get to work on the rest of the caseload stacking up in her office. She would not fail this time.

She wondered about the woman’s child, the only survivor from that hellish nightmare years ago that Olivia had tried and failed to end. The little girl with huge brown eyes and a sadness that had shattered Olivia’s heart into broken, jagged pieces. Ultimately, these decisions weren’t hers. She wasn’t a commander; she was an
advisor
to the commanders, and there was a distinct difference.

She built the cases and made recommendations. Guys like Ben had to make the decisions.

But Ben had planted a seed of doubt and it wormed into her brain and nestled up to her ear, whispering insidious things.

What if she was wrong about Escoberra? God, but she wanted to be. For Ben’s sake. For Hailey. God, she wanted to be wrong.

She took a deep breath and wove through the vehicles in the motor pool until she found Bandit Company’s guidon.

And in front of the company was Bandit Company’s commander.

She had to admit that Ben, standing in front of his formation, presented a powerful figure. But it wasn’t just the power of his position that attracted her to him. There were scars on his body, scars on his soul that he hid with a quick smile and an easy grin.

She’d wanted to ask but she hadn’t wanted to break the mood with a troubled jaunt down memory lane.

And he’d let her dodge the painful questions, too. Ben was a good man. A smart ass, but the kind of man who couldn’t stand to see people around him hurting. She’d seen that side of him when he’d asked her not to turn him in about Zittoro’s packet.

That took audacity, especially in the face of a battalion commander who wanted to clean out his formation. Ben was willing to stand on principle.

Men like him were rare, too rare.

She didn’t know what it said about her that she’d willingly fallen into bed with him just two short weeks after he’d first tried coaxing a smile out of her.

She wondered at the man beneath the jokes, though. Standing in front of that formation, she saw him cracking comments to the skinny kid next to him. She smiled and shook her head. He never stopped.

She wanted to know more, though, about the man who’d avoided responsibility but now seemed to be stepping into his new role well enough.

“You’re staring, ma’am,” a deep voice said.

She cocked a grin at Reza. “I thought you were with Emily today?”

“I had an appointment earlier. Emily went with me. Now I’m at work, trying to get my feet back under me,” Reza said. He folded his arms over his chest as formation continued.

“How’s that going?” she asked.

“Slower than I’d like.” He sniffed. “I’ll get through it, though. You, on the other hand, might want to stop looking like you’re undressing Teague with your eyes. You’re so fucking obvious.”

She pressed her lips to hide the smile that spread slowly across her mouth as embarrassed heat crept up her neck. She was at ease with this man because of his relationship with her friend.

“That obvious?” she asked.

“Pretty much,” Reza said lightly. “I’ve known Teague a long time. He’s a strange one but he’s also a man I’d have in a firefight with me any time. I trust him.”

She looked up at the big man next to her, amazed that a man like him had managed to find happiness with her friend. Amazed at her own comfort around him.

“He’s a good guy,” she said softly. “Command is going to be hard on him.”

“If you’re doing it right, command is hard for everyone.” Reza reached for her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “And I suspect Teague is going to do it right, no matter how much he may protest to the contrary.”

* * *

Ben was having a hell of a time concentrating on the standard Monday morning briefings. He stood in formation listening to the sergeant major drone on and on about some ruck march up some mountain somewhere. There was beer involved but Ben couldn’t really see how that was a good thing. Dehydration and mountain climbing seemed to be a combination that never ended well, but hey, Ben wasn’t about to judge.

He just wasn’t interested in participating.

No, his mind was definitely circling back to last Saturday evening when he’d curled around the beautiful Olivia Hale.

He’d wanted to press her on those vicious scars running down her ribs but she’d been determined to brush off his concern.

He’d let it go in the name of keeping the peace but Ben wasn’t easily dissuaded.

Somehow he’d managed not to call her after leaving her place. He’d thought about it. Several times. And each time he’d considered picking up his phone, he’d set it back down again. He was suddenly as inept as a thirteen-year-old boy. He had no idea if he should call her, or if he should wait.

Dear Lord in Heaven, when had he lost his balls? Had he left them at her place that night? What was it about this woman that drove him to distraction to the point that the following night, he’d been trying to get some paperwork done and all he could think about was what she might have been doing at the same time.

Damn.

A tap on his shoulder made him turn around. Olivia was in his motor pool. Standing between two tanks, she looked positively tiny. Her hair was pinned up. Her uniform neat.

Not a hint of the woman he’d made gasp and cry out his name through clenched teeth as he’d touched her.

Her expression was polished glass. Once he would have been intimidated by the cool, distant expression but he caught the glint of awareness in her eyes. Just a hint, and if he hadn’t been looking for it, he might have missed it. “Captain Teague, do you have a moment?”

Captain Teague. He wasn’t a moron. He knew they were around a thousand pairs of prying eyes. Still, he wanted to hear his name on her lips again.

Damn it, he needed to figure out what the hell he’d done with his balls. He cleared his throat. “Sure, ma’am.”

It felt strange calling her “ma’am”, but he’d be damned if he’d give away what had happened between them the other night. It was nobody’s business what the two of them did on their off-duty time.

Ben wanted to do it again. He had a sudden dark and vibrant fantasy of taking her inside his Bradley and stripping that stiff uniform off her body.

“What’s up?” he said when they’d moved away from the mass of humanity.

He watched her closely as she pulled out the files she needed.

“Child Protective Services called.” It was a long moment before she looked up. “They want to know if we’re going to follow up on the Escoberra case.”

Ben swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Can you try that in English? Small words, maybe, no more than four syllables each?”

His joke felt flat and listless.

She smiled and it was more than just a grin at his crack. It was sympathy. She knew this was a tough choice for him, but she asked him about it anyway.

He took a deliberate step backward. She was asking him to do his job and right then? It involved prosecuting someone he was close to. Someone who’d saved his ass on more than one occasion. “What does that mean?”

“It means we can prosecute him under military law instead of waiting for the civilians to do it,” she said. She took a step closer, needing to offer comfort despite the harsh reality of her recommendation.

Ben shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do I want to do that?”

“Normally, I would say no. But here?” She hesitated. “If CPS closes their investigation, there’s no case,” she said.

Ben rubbed his hand over his mouth, his heart pounding in his chest.

“It means you don’t have to prosecute.”

He looked down at her then, her eyes hidden beneath dark sunglasses. “I wouldn’t think you’d be happy about this,” he said. His words were thick. Rough.

“I’m not.” She swallowed. “But I trust you to make the right decision about your men.”

Ben took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. A quiet nod passed between them, tacit acknowledgment of things better left unsaid. They’d talk later. Away from prying eyes.

“Thank you,” he said when he could speak. It was more trust than he deserved.

God, but he hoped he was right about Escoberra. Because that night at the hospital was haunting him. Tormenting him with what ifs.

What if he was wrong? What if Carmen was simply protecting her husband instead of loving him too much?

Olivia trusted him to make the right decision.

So why did he no longer trust himself?

* * *

Ben was in his office, wading through three hundred and twelve unread e-mails. He seriously considered doing a control-alt-delete and emptying all of them in the trash but somehow he didn’t think that the XO or the ops officer would approve of his actions.

There was nothing in his office that made it officially his. He hadn’t made time to move things in and honestly, he wasn’t sure when he’d get time to do that.

It wasn’t important, except that the space didn’t feel like his.

He still felt out of place and unsettled sitting behind the commander’s desk. He stared at an e-mail that embodied everything about this job that he’d hated and feared. It was a request from Major Denis for an update on all of his legal actions.

How was he supposed to do his job when he’d deployed with half the guys in the company? It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to believe they could do bad things—some of the guys like Foster did stupid things but they were just that—stupid. It didn’t mean they should lose their careers over them.

It was acknowledging that any loyalty he’d had to his men was now gone and that the rank he’d always said didn’t matter now stood between him and his longtime friends.

On the list of things he was worried about, that was at the top of his list, right along with returning to combat in less than eight months with barely sixty percent of the soldiers he needed. About half of the soldiers he did have were brand new troopers—either folks finally forced out of Korea or out of hiding from other posts, or brand new kids straight out of boot camp.

And he still had to clean up the non-deployers he did have. Starting with Foster and going downhill from there.

He clicked through, filing the e-mails where they belonged, unable to actually concentrate.

There was a quiet knock on his door. He looked up as Reza sat down on the couch, kicking his feet up on Ben’s desk. “Rough day, huh?”

Reza tossed a sleeve of chocolate chip cookies onto Ben’s desk. Ben shot him a wry look and opened the package. “You’re going to enable me now?” he asked.

Reza grinned. “I’ve found them to be a deeply therapeutic substitute for alcohol.”

Ben stopped chewing. “Really?”

“No not really. At this rate, I’m going to bust height and weight standards if I keep gaining weight.” Reza looked at him silently. “Want to tell me what’s prompted this cookie bender?”

Ben stared down at the sleeve, then set it on his desk. “Escoberra’s at the hospital getting his mental health evaluation.” There was deep wariness in Ben’s words.

“That was fast,” Reza said.

“Emily helped get him in sooner.” He took a deep breath, looking up at his long time friend. “I still can’t wrap my brain around him doing this to Hailey.”

Reza was quiet for a long time. “I haven’t seen too many cases where Child Protective Services gets involved when there isn’t something going on.”

“How many cases have you been involved with?”

“A few over the years.” Reza shifted on the couch that Marshall hadn’t taken with him, dropping his feet to the floor in front of him. “They’re not perfect by a long shot, but they’re people doing the best they can.”

“When did you become so forgiving of the bureaucracy?”

“Remember Tag?”

“Tagalogue? Sure.” Tag was a heavy kid from somewhere deep in Louisiana. He’d married his high school sweetheart who Ben and Reza had suspected was related to him in a not-too-distant way.

“Well, it turned out that her uncle was coming to visit a little too often. He would watch their kids when they’d go out on dates or whatever. Tag started to feel like something wasn’t right but didn’t want to piss off his wife. He got a call from the on-post daycare that sparked an investigation.”