Unexpected Oasis (15 page)

My lip rolls between my teeth. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I can ask." He stands there a moment, teeters forward and the stops himself. With a terse nod and obvious grimace, he pivots on his heel and walks away.

Turning over a weary shoulder, I unlock the door. How many times are we going to do this? Are we forever cursed to have awkward partings where it's obvious one, or both of us wants more, but is somehow reluctant?

Yes, it is. Until I can pull my head out of my ass. Or never. The latter seems more likely.

I can't tell if I'm relieved to be here or dreading the upcoming weeks. Things were simple at Site J. Short but simple. Trey is right; for a brief moment I was happy. But I knew it couldn't last. It never does.

Dropping my bag by the door, I strip out of my clothes on the way to the shower, leaving a trail of clothing on the floor.  

I never thought this bathroom would feel spacious, but compared to the cracker box at Site J, it's a spa, a luxurious
en suite
. And way too big without Trey's body pinning me to the wall.

The recent memory settles so deep in my gut I don't even linger in the shower. Wrapped in a couple towels, I unpack my computer, blow off the dust, and set up at the desk.

Sending my mother an, "I'm alive and kicking" email is first. Seeing as I've been out of touch for the last few days, she's probably freaking out. I don't bother reading the several emails she's sent. Better to deal with that later.

All I can think about while staring at the computer screen is the man who's been putting my emotions through the wringer. Not Jim though. Trey. That perfect specimen of a man who couldn't be more caring, sweet, funny, intelligent, or sexy, if he tried. A man who seems to find me just as desirable, who stunned me with a heartfelt apology even though he didn't need to, who seems to be willing to tolerate my idiosyncrasies because he "really enjoys my company".

So, why exactly am I resisting?

It isn't the insecurity plaguing me since Jim left me for another woman. No, I have zero doubts Trey finds me desirable.

Is it Jim? Am I really not as over him as I think I am?

Pulling up photo albums from vacations and holidays, I skim through the pictures, feeling like I'm sifting through memories of someone else's life. Sure I look happy, and for the most part I was. Before Jim knocked up a girl nearly twenty years his junior, I thought he was an amazing man. Smart, witty, good-looking, a great cook, passionate about world issues… And he adored me. Or so it seemed.

And we both loved the arts, and foodie restaurants, and taking in local culture, and traveling… Nothing was perfect. It never is. But now, looking through these pictures it's easy for me to remember that.

Like this one from our trip to New Orleans. Jim refused to even walk down Bourbon Street. Wouldn't go to any of the
tourist
places: Café du Monde, Pat O'Briens, Acme Oysters… We spent almost all of our time in the Bywater, hanging out with the
locals
. I still had a really good time, but I wouldn't have minded spending at least one afternoon in the French Quarter. I mean, who travels to the Big Easy and doesn't visit Jackson Square?

Jim is a snob, plain and simple. For someone who fancies himself as a philanthropist, he's incredibly judgmental. God forbid someone likes NASCAR, or top-forty music, or Bud Light, or goes to Bible study, or eats at chain restaurants…

Even when we were together I found it annoying. I overlooked it, of course. That's what you do when you love someone. Now? The thought of listening to him mock people who watch football on Sundays, or while he drones on and on about how industrial farming is poisoning our food supply, sounds positively dreadful.

So yeah, I think I'm over him.

Why am I punishing myself then?

Wait. Is that it? Oh my God, it is. I'm punishing myself for failing. It didn't matter how fit I was, or how successful my career was, or how good a cook, or how great I could give head… In the end I failed. I failed at making a baby and I failed at being able to keep my husband from sampling the college girls.

Well, fuck that. I may hate that I'll never have children, but it isn't something I can control. And even though it's hard, I know, deep down, Jim's inability to keep his dick in his pants had nothing to do with me.

And like that, a huge weight lifts from me.

Sure, I'm a little scared of getting hurt. Any relationship with Trey is only temporary, I know that. Getting attached to him is a definite concern. But I don't want to be controlled by that, and I don't want to miss out on something amazing simply because I
might
get hurt. That type of fear is crippling.

Besides, I'm strong. There is nothing Trey could do to me that would match the devastation I went through with Jim. It sucked but I did survive.

My heartbeat quickens as my decision is made. I haven't felt this excited since…well, the other day when I realized I'd be spending the day with Trey.

The next couple hours can't pass quickly enough.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

M
ale voices greet me before I can see the men behind them. The changing/bathrooms for the pool flank either side of the bar, putting a building between me and the men. Double D's voice is instantly recognizable, and loud.

"Fuck man! That sounds sweet! Back in the heat, away from this sleepy little town."

I hear Trey laugh. "Oh yeah. I'd forgotten how good a goddamn fire-fight feels. Forgotten how much I miss it. How alive that shit makes me feel."

Is he talking about Site J? Those terrifying minutes where bullets whizzed back and forth and several men ended up dead?

"I wish you'd been there," he continues. "It was like the good ol' days, when we weren't stuck in this prison."

"I am so fucking jealous. This place practically sucks the fun out of war."

"The only thing I regret," Trey says. "Is putting Andrea in the situation. It was dicey for a minute."

He's definitely talking about Site J. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He told me he loved combat, that he found the
real
world boring. I saw the way his eyes sparkled and his body buzzed with energy while we were fighting for our lives. Of course he loved the action at Site J. He's been straight-forward about that from day one.

At least it makes my decision to say eff it and enjoy his company while I can less scary. After all, there can't even be the fantasy of a future with him. Being in the thick of the action makes him happy. I want normal and relatively quiet. How could that ever work?

It couldn't, plain and simple. And that's exactly why I should enjoy it now.

The weight that lifted earlier becomes weightless.

"How'd she handle it?" D asks.

I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, but it'd be a little awkward if I just popped around the corner now so I hang back and listen.

"Like a champ. I couldn't have asked for a better charge. She stayed calm, did everything I asked, really…perfect."

Pride swells in my belly.

"So, she's not just a pretty face."

"Not at all. She has a great head on her shoulders."

"Wait, are you tapping that?"

The pride gets sucked into a pit. I'm not sure how I feel about Trey discussing our
tapping
.

"Do you ever stop to think before you open your mouth?" Trey wonders, sounding rather disgusted. "I'm not sure you could be more inappropriate or unprofessional."

The pit vanishes.

"Hey, it's not like I meant anything bad by it. I'd tap it." I can practically hear the shrug in D's tone.

"You'd tap anything," another voice pipes in. I'm pretty sure it's Two Bit.

"No," D argues. "Well, not
anything.
Besides, it isn't like she's hard to look at."

As crude as his statement is, I won't deny a little pride comes back. I should probably be horribly offended, but it's nice to hear I'm
tappable
and it isn't like D being interested in sharing my bed is a surprise.

Which Two Bit points out. "Ha, well you got
de
nied!"

"Can't fault a guy for trying."

"Did you hit on Andrea?" It's Trey this time, again sounding disgusted.

"There's no rule against it." Good to know. "Besides, she turned me down. So, no harm, no foul."

Trey's sigh is audible even from where I'm standing. I decide it's probably time for me to quit eavesdropping.

Wearing a simple summer dress over my swimsuit, I don't actually need to change, but I go ahead and slip into the changing room and out of my dress. It goes into a locker and I decide to take the opportunity to slather a little more sunscreen on my body. The more time I can buy the better.

I emerge a few minutes later with a sarong tied around my waist, my pool bag over my shoulder, and a smile on my face.

I don't even need to play it cool, or attempt to approach the group without being
obvious,
because the minute I step into the pool area, Double D exclaims, "Holy shit, it's Hermit Crab!"

I don't resist the eye-roll. "How's it going, D?"

Trey watches me the entire time as I approach the trio, a nearly imperceptible grin on his lips. The unspoken implication of my coming here is reflected in his gaze, and he devours me with it. Heat shoots straight to my core and I'd be surprised if my arousal isn't visible.

D leans against the bar and looks me up and down. "I'm good. How you doin'?"

"Enough," Trey growls.

Ignoring D seems the best recourse, so I turn my attention to Two Bit, greet him, and then turn to Trey. His hungry gaze returns with fervor. It's so intense I'm actually waiting for him to take me into the changing room and well, take me.

"Hey," I say, my voice a tad breathless. I clear my throat.

"Ah, shit," D groans. "I knew it. You're a goddamn hypocrite," he says to Trey and then slaps him on the back. "I sure as hell ain't mad at ya, though."

Trey also seems to think D should be ignored. "You ready for a drink?" he asks, putting his body between me and D as he guides me to the bar.

"Oh yeah."

D peers around Trey's massive torso. "I think we need shots. You wanna shot, H.C.? Trey's buying."

I can't help but laugh. The entire situation is ridiculous. "Why not."

The shot kicks off one of the most entertaining afternoons of my adult life. After figuring out that Trey is the tapper and I am the tappee, D completely changes his tune. He's still a flirt, but I'm pretty sure that's his M.O. Like the billiards night, I feel like I'm part of some weird fraternity, a tried and true member of the boy's club. I also feel like I'm in Cancun and not Afghanistan. I definitely get as drunk.

We even eat dinner poolside. By the time the sun is setting, I feel completely relaxed, I've totally forgotten about the warzone that was Site J, and I've managed a decent tan
and
buzz.

Trey rises from the lounge next to mine and offers me his hand. "Ready to blow this joint?"

"Absolutely." My hand slides into his and he pulls me to my feet. "Let me just grab my stuff from the locker." I glance at the other members of our party. Two-bit is passed out on a lounger, and D weaves unsteadily in his chair, staring at a spot on the table. "G'night, D."

His wrist flops toward me. I glance at Trey. "Tomorrow should be fun for them," I say.

"I'm gettin' them up early too."

"You're a sadist."

He winks. "Sometimes."

The image of me tied up with Trey spanking me pops into my head. A scenario I must admit I've always found intriguing. Jim never wanted to experiment sexually, something I highly doubt can be said for Trey. Adventure might as well be his middle name.

"Have you ever been to New Orleans?" I ask out of the blue as we're walking back to my room.

"Of course."

"Did you go down Bourbon?"

"I stayed in a hotel right off Bourbon. My room had a balcony overlooking the street."

"Did you like it?"

"Is it possible not to like it? You've been, right?"

"Yeah…" We've arrived at my door. "Didn't make it to Bourbon, though."

"We'll have to remedy that," he says as I push open the door.

I know I'm not supposed to fantasize about an unforeseeable future, but that sounds nice. Standing with the door open wide and my bottom lip between my teeth, I ask, "You coming?"

"Not yet. But that'll soon be remedied as well."

The moment the door shuts, he grabs me and steals my breath with a heady kiss.

"I've been waiting all afternoon to do that."

"I've been waiting all afternoon for you to do it."

"I'm so glad you changed your mind."

"After I had a moment to think, I realized you're right. Time is short and I'm tired of letting Jim's problems ruin my life. I really enjoy your company too, and I definitely enjoy the sex."

"Mmm." He kisses my neck. "I am here to serve you." His fingers dance down my back. When he reaches the hem of my dress, he pulls it over my head and tosses it aside. "I live to serve you."

"I can't tell if you're mocking or not."

He falls to his knees. "Does this look like I'm mocking?" One hand cups the small of my back while the other peels down the edge of my bikini bottoms and his tongue traces the tip of my hip bone. His gaze flashes up to me. "I'd never joke about something so serious as bringing you pleasure."

Oh. God.

The bikini bottoms get yanked down. I start to kick them off but he stops me. "Leave them there. I like them around your ankles."

That definitely confirms my earlier suspicions. I have no doubt spanking is within his sexual repertoire.

With the fingers of one hand, he peels back my flesh, revealing my swollen, aching clit. The other hand grips my ass and pulls my hips forward and my sex to his mouth. His tongue works over my clit, diving, swooping, dipping, and lapping until my body shakes uncontrollably with pleasure and tension.

I need…something…to hold…onto.

As the orgasm rockets through my body, I clutch his shoulder, maybe even digging my nails into his skin. I'm not sure my legs will support me, but luckily, Trey holds me steady.

"Now, that's the kind of service I can get into," he says as he rises from his knees.

I can only pant as I devour him with my gaze. My hand slides to his cock straining against his swim trunks.

"Told you," he says.

"I think we need to take care of that."

"I'm not going to argue."

I start to lower down, ready to swallow every inch of him, but once again he stops me.

"No time for that," he tells me when I glance at him in question. "I need you to fuck me."

"Anytime."

He walks backward toward the bed, managing to slide off his trunks mid-stride. Kicking out of the bikini bottoms still pooled at my ankles, I follow. As he sits on the mattress, I untie my top and remove it burlesque style.

"That's what I'm talking about." He moves until his back is pressed to the headboard, and I climb onto the bed, swing a leg over his lap, and slide onto his cock. "That's
definitely
what I'm talking about," he moans, gripping my hips firmly in each hand.

Bracing my hands on the headboard on either side of his broad shoulders, I proceed to
ride
him. I don't hold anything back—fast, hard, slow, with a little rock of my hips…anything I can to keep that look of bliss on his gorgeous face.

Arching back, I reach behind me to cup his balls. It takes a small act of contortion, but I'm able to fully engulf them in one hand and begin gently stroking.

His hips buck beneath me. "Holy fu—" He slams into me, holding my hips still as his orgasm pumps into me.

God, I love the expression on his face—brow furrowed, mouth slightly open, that beautiful mix of pain and pleasure…

When he opens his eyes I don't pretend I wasn't watching him come. And he doesn't seem the least bit perturbed by it. In fact, he grins mischeviously.

Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him softly, gently.

"Mmm," he murmurs into my lips. "That is nice."

"It is." I pull back, my gaze lingering on him. His fingers brush delicately across my cheek and then my lower lip. His eyes meet mine and then it happens. This…emotion passes between us. It's so strong I can taste it.

"Hold on," Trey says out of the blue. He wraps an arm tightly around my body and catapults from a sitting position to flat on his back in a bounding feat of acrobatics, taking me along for the ride.

I let out a startled scream that quickly morphs into laughter.

Once the bed quits protesting and my laughter relaxes, I ease onto the bed beside him, nestling into place.

The spot where his arm meets his chest is possibly my favorite place on earth. It cradles my head perfectly. Pressed into his torso, my leg drapes over one of his thighs, his arm wraps around me like a cocoon. His skin glistens in the pale light from the courtyard bleeding through the mini-blinds. The room smells like sex and heaven.

If it's possible to feel more satiated I don't believe it.

His fingers run through strands of my hair, the light way he strokes feels better than any head massage. "I know the circumstances that brought you here suck," he says after a bout of silence. "But I'm not going to lie, if I could thank your prick of an ex-husband for delivering you to me, I would."

And if I could melt deeper into him I would. "Me too." And I believe it. For the first time, I'm glad Jim cheated on me. I'm glad he knocked up Courtney. Because it brought me here, to Trey, to this magnificent man. And even if this moment, this…place, is all we ever have, Trey has given me back something I thought I lost when Jim left me: myself.