The Officer and the Secret (17 page)

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Authors: Jeanette Murray

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: The Officer and the Secret
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She relaxed, let her body melt around his like chocolate to a strawberry. “I think we just both were ready.”
Me
more
than
anyone
. “And it felt right. I couldn’t ignore that any longer.”

He shifted until she was under him, his face hard to make out in the dim light. But the intensity of his look wasn’t hard to miss. “I’m really glad to hear that.” Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he held her gently, and her heart absorbed the sweetness of the moment. “You have no idea how glad I am.”

Because he seemed to need it, she rubbed her fingertips over his back, stopping just before she hit his butt. Unlike her, he had zero issues sleeping in the nude. It seemed almost deliciously wrong, in a good way. But baby steps. Sleeping with a man at all was a massive jump for her. Maybe she’d get used to it.

She prayed she’d have the chance to.

***

As dawn crept in through the blinds of her room, Dwayne shifted over her. He crooned, his honey-tipped voice smoothing over her still-sleepy senses, waking her up with gentle ease. His hands roamed over her body and she resisted the urge to open her eyes, just letting her skin do the work. She wanted to feel him, smell him, hear him. Imprint the memory of what it was like to have a man like him in her bed—so intimately in her life—so that she wouldn’t forget.

And when he nudged one knee aside and high, probing between her legs with his erection, she sighed and cracked one eye to find him grinning over her.

“Morning, sunshine. You’re a hard one to wake up.” He punctuated the greeting with a kiss on the nose and a short pulse against her wet center.

“Mmm. Someone cut into my sleep time last night. And I’m not an early bird.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s not even six yet. Give a girl a break.”

He pushed in, and though her body resisted a little, it was nothing compared to last night. And she was able to mentally relax enough to let him slide in without pain. Discomfort, a little. But the pain was gone, she was relieved to find out.

“This is definitely a nice way to wake up,” he murmured below her ear, nipping his way down her neck to her collarbone. One hand pulled her nightshirt up until he could see her breasts. She managed to resist covering herself, but the automatic flush that took over her skin wasn’t something she could control. Luckily it was still dark enough, he probably didn’t see.

With one hand massaging one breast, he took the other nipple in his mouth. She moaned, then wanted to bite her tongue. What if Madison was home?

“We’re still alone, darlin’. I checked when I hit the head a few minutes ago.” He spoke against her skin, lips brushing an intimate caress over her cleavage before settling around her other nipple.

He’d checked to make sure they were alone before starting another round of sex. Though modesty wasn’t his thing—clearly—he still cared enough that he knew she would mind. Her heart did somersaults in her chest beneath his touch, as she realized that not every man would care.

But that’s why she was comfortable with Dwayne. Because instinctively, she knew he would. He would be the kind of man to make sure her natural modesty was preserved as much as possible.

The slow, leisurely climb to climax was sweeter, more relaxing than before. Not the sweaty race to the finish from the night prior, but more a floating, serene existence that ended as sensually and calmly as the entire thing began. One minute she was feeling the lovely tug at her breast, the next her stomach contracted and spasmed, and she couldn’t hold back the pressure that built below until it overflowed, taking Dwayne with her.

She sighed and loved how his weight settled over her a little more fully, yet still not pushing against her too hard. A man his size could suffocate her, but he seemed to know it and was conscious of how he relaxed. And when he pulled away, she regretted the loss of warmth, the delightfulness of the moment, the quiet—

“Fuck.”

Chapter 17

Well, that wasn’t at all sweet or quiet. That he cursed so violently in front of her, when she knew he took care to watch his language in front of women, was more disturbing than the word itself. She sat up and concentrated on his shape in the dark room. “What?”

He was silent for a moment, back turned. Then he stood up and walked to the bathroom without a word.

Had she done something wrong? New as she was to the love-making process, she didn’t think so. Maybe he’d stepped on something. Their clothes still littered the floor. Or perhaps he’d forgotten a meeting—she glanced at the clock again—at six thirty in the morning…

No, not likely.

Speculation didn’t last long as he walked back to the bedroom, one hand on the back of his neck, completely unaware or unbothered by his own nudity. “Sorry for the language.” When she said nothing, he sighed and grabbed his jeans from the floor, pulling them on without bothering to look for his boxers. After the jeans were snapped, he sat on the bed and held on to her foot, still under the covers. Massaging her instep, he said, “The condom broke.”

The words filtered through her mind. Condom. Broke. She wouldn’t pretend to know everything there was to know about sex. But that couldn’t be a good thing. It was never good when something broke. Mentally she started flipping through the different facts she remembered from her short online search.

He finally looked at her, and his face was etched with anxiety. Her chest pinched a little in confusion, not sure what the problem was or what he wanted her to say. But he spoke first, saving her the effort. “I hate to ask this, and I feel like an as—a jerk. But are you…” His big hands gestured in some random circle.

Oh. That was helpful.

She stared at him. He looked so uncomfortable, so completely out of his element that she had no idea how to respond. Mostly, though, because she had no idea what he was asking.

He finally sighed, shook his head, and started over. “Are you on birth control?” he managed to ask, the words sounding like he squeezed them out of his throat.

“Oh.” Now that was an easy one. She gave him a reassuring smile and crawled over to him, curling into his side. When his arm slid around her and tugged her closer, her heart did another little flip-flop. Being away from him, even for that short amount of time, wasn’t any fun. “I am. It’s okay.”

His breath whooshed out in a relieved gust. “Thank God.” He laid back down for a few minutes with her, mumbling something about how he wanted just a few more minutes before he had to leave to get ready for work.

She listened to his heart for a few minutes, thinking back just moments ago. His entire moment of panic made her curious. Was it having a baby outside of marriage that made him so worried? Or just having children with her, or having them at all? Did he even want kids eventually?

And why was she thinking these things so soon? There was no way she should ask something so personal so quickly. Could she? Should she?

He transferred his weight and she rolled back so he could stand. She covered back up with the bedsheet and watched as he dressed, his moves smooth and uninhibited in the dark of the room. Almost as if he had night vision.

“I’ve got to get to work. But can we meet later tonight?” Dwayne stood over the bed, smiling down at her, his face relaxed once again. All signs of distress or apprehension were completely gone, and he was simply happy Dwayne.

And he wanted to see her again. She resisted the urge to do a little happy dance and nodded. “That’d be nice.”

With a kiss on her forehead, he tucked her a little deeper into the bed that still held his warmth from the night. “Good. I’ll call you later.” And then he was gone. She waited until she heard his truck start up in the quiet morning and the sounds of his engine faded away. Then, knowing she was alone, she got up and did her happy dance, barely containing a little shriek of joy.

She was still a dignified woman, after all.

But a true woman. With a social life, and friends who spoke the same language as her, a job she liked, and a boyfriend.

You could call someone you slept with and were dating a boyfriend, couldn’t you?

Well, she was going to. Because it was a massive step in the right direction. She was in a relationship with a guy who she was falling for more each day, who she had a small idea might really care for her back.

At that very moment in time… life was good.

***

Dwayne whistled as he walked into the break room to nuke a breakfast burrito. Normally he would have snagged at least a bowl of cereal or another PowerBar at his apartment before coming to work, but he hadn’t had the time. He’d wanted to spend every minute that he could in bed with Veronica before leaving.

His mouth curved at the memory of her draped over him. She was so small—though he was rather large in comparison to anyone—but so trusting. Quite a difference from the shy, almost skittish woman he’d met only a few months earlier. In general, she’d changed a lot. Though maybe she was just being more comfortable around him.

And, better still, he hadn’t had a single nightmare while sleeping next to her. Maybe his brain was too tired from the exercise to be bothered. But then again, on a more fanciful—and more welcome—level… maybe the chaplain was right. Maybe Veronica was just that good for him. He wanted to be good for her, too. Though he was going to have to be more careful, he thought with a frown. The condom breaking was bad luck. Nobody’s fault. And thank God she was on birth control herself. But that wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat. He’d gone through the whole “What’s gonna happen?” thing before with undesirable results. He wasn’t going to do it again.

The microwave beeped and he grabbed the hot burrito, passing it back and forth between his hands as he walked through the open offices toward his own door. Tossing the nuked breakfast on a paper towel on his desk, he sat down and started his morning routine of checking email.

“What in the good grace are you so fucking happy about?”

“Morning, Jeremy.” He clicked another email open, not bothering to look up from his computer screen.

His friend flopped down in the chair across from his desk with dramatic flair. Though he didn’t look, Dwayne could easily imagine the sullen look on his face. Jeremy carried the “tortured artist” look off with ease. He sighed, deleted the email, and opened another.

“You were whistling.”

“Was I?”
Delete. Open next.
“How rude of me, quietly making a cheerful sound in the relative privacy of my own office.”

“Agreed. So really, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

He wasn’t about to tell him he finally made it with Veronica. No stranger to swapping vague conquests in the past, this time it seemed beyond wrong. Not only because Jeremy would know who he was talking about, but because… it was Veronica. Just different.

Everything seemed different with her.

“You got some ass. Didn’t you?”

The comment was meant to raise his hackles, and it did, no question. But Dwayne just punched the mouse with a little more force than necessary to open a reply window and started typing.

“I knew it.”

Dwayne gave him the middle finger between sentences.

Finally, Jeremy gave up being an ass for attention and leaned forward. “Seriously, man. You’re hung up, aren’t you?”

Dwayne sighed again, finished the email, and hit send before leaning back in his char to face Jeremy. He looked well rested, though Dwayne wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d gotten a full night’s sleep if he was spending it with Madison. But now that he was in relationship bliss, suddenly he had to be all Nosy Nelly into everyone else’s business.

“Hung up is a little juvenile of a term for it. But yeah. I like her. I care about her. And I want to see how things keep going.”

Jeremy leaned back at that and looked thoughtful. For all his annoying tendencies, the guy was a thinker and definitely didn’t jump to conclusions easily.

Except with Madison.

“She’s not your usual. Not flashy or loud or your female counterpart.”

“Female counterpart?”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “You know… country to the bone.”

He couldn’t deny that.

Tilting his head, Jeremy studied him with an intensity that made Dwayne itch. “She seems like she fits though.”

Dwayne raised a brow at that. “You know, you were so against Skye when she and Tim first got together. I’m a little surprised you aren’t in here giving me shit too.”

“That was different. Different situation, different people. And you know I love Skye like a sister now. So it’s all water under the bridge.”

Dwayne chuckled at the ease with which he dismissed his concerns from a year ago. True, showing up on Tim’s doorstep and announcing she was Tim’s forgotten wife was not the best introduction to Skye McDermott. But she’d quickly won them over. All of them, including her runaway husband.

“You’re just different with her. Like your soul relaxes.”

Dwayne squinted at that. “
My
soul
relaxes
? What the hell kind of mumbo jumbo is that?” Other than the truth, of course. But guys didn’t say shit like that out loud. “You writing a book with all these witty remarks there, Dr. Phil? You should stick to the mystery and suspense genres.”

Jeremy rolled his shoulders and peered out the tiny office window. “Never mind. Just trying to say that I like her and you together. That’s all.”

“Well, good. ’Cause it’s gonna stay
her
and
me
together
for the foreseeable future.” Which sounded like more of a commitment than he’d mentally admitted before. But it was just the plain truth, so why bother sugarcoating it? He wanted her. Now, tomorrow, and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

And there was nothing wrong with that at all.

***

Veronica propped herself up on her elbows. Her feet were by Dwayne’s chest, next to the headboard, where he rubbed her calves and ankles. Exhausted after a long shift at work, he’d come to pick her up and bring her back to his place, promising a foot rub in the bargain.

She would have said yes anyway. But a foot rub, well, that just sealed the deal.

With a sigh, she let her head plop back to the mattress. “This is probably what heaven is like.” Hot man, a foot rub, hopefully making love a little later, and a warm bed to snuggle in after.

Her parents, of course, were currently praying for her immortal soul somewhere in Africa, and didn’t even know why. She giggled a little, just thinking about their faces if they knew how their only daughter was spending her time in America.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. And glad you agreed to come over.”

“I was so tired, I never could have made the drive myself.” Plus, with Madison and Jeremy holing up in their apartment, she didn’t mind the added privacy of Dwayne’s apartment with no roommates. But the sweet way he’d offered to come pick her up echoed in her mind. He knew how to take care of a woman he wanted.

A woman he wanted. That was her. What a comforting thought.

What a completely abstract, daunting thought. That she would be worthy of a man like Dwayne’s affections. That a man like him would want a woman like her…

No. That was not positive thinking. That was her mother’s voice creeping in again, uninvited. She shook away the pessimism and doubt and focused on him.

“So how is school going?”

The question jarred her from the little happy bubble she was rebuilding in her mind. “School?”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned you were in school. I meant to ask, what are you studying?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” Her first instinct—to lie—made her stomach ache. She smoothed the bedspread to hide the shake of her hand. So soon, so fragile the thread of their relationship. She didn’t want to take a chance of snapping it. Not just yet.

“Well, have you picked a major?”

“Teaching.” It was out of her mouth before she could call it back. Eventually, yes, she would love to go to college for her teaching license. Out of all the tasks she was assigned in the missionary camps, working with the children and teaching them English—as best could be managed, thanks to the language barrier—was her favorite.

“Nice. Good, solid career choice. Lots of the guys’ wives at the battalion are teachers. Seems like a pretty mobile career.”

“Hmm.” Her discomfort shifted a little at hearing him mention wives. A mobile career. Mobile, because Marines moved around often. And so would their families. But why was he mentioning it?

Because
you
are
flying
off
the
deep
end, as Madison would say. Stop reading into things.

“I assume you’re still in your core classes then, huh?” When she didn’t answer—because she had no clue what core classes were—he added, “If you ever need help, let me know. I can’t proof an English paper, as my professors would have told you. I tend to want to add a few y’alls in there every so often, just for spice.” She giggled at that. “But I can rock calculus and I’m pretty good with sciences.”

“Thanks.” She wanted to cry. This was so not how she hoped the night would go. And now she’d accidentally misled him into thinking she was already in the process of earning a teaching license. Time to deflect. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

He shrugged one shoulder, as if it was no big deal. “I wanted to see you, and you were too whipped to make it. I wasn’t. Problem solved.” He gave her a head-to-toe inspection, then quickly yanked on her leg so that she flew at him, laughing the whole way. Settling her more comfortably over his chest, he pushed her hair back. “I can think of another subject I could always tutor you in.”

“Oh?”

His grin was wicked, and sent chills of anticipation running down her spine.

“I always wanted to have a study buddy for sex ed.”

***

“It’s too easy.”

Dwayne paced the floor of the chaplain’s office, hands fisting by his side, then crossed over his chest, then back down by his side again.

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