The Officer Breaks the Rules (12 page)

Her elbow bumped the mouse and the screen popped to life, startling her when the bright
white of a document flashed instead of the generic landscape screensaver. It was none
of her business, and her main focus was on bending a paperclip to the right size so
she could scrape the—oh Lord, was that a piece of lettuce?—out from between the W
and E key. But the top of the page caught her eye, and before Madison even realized,
she was reading on.

Chapter Nine? What the hell? She started to read a few sentences, then pulled her
eyes away. This was so not okay. Breaking and entering was one thing. But going through
his private stuff? That was too far.

Wow, that sounded crazy… even to her.

The roar of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot jerked her from worries about
what the color orange would do to her figure and she raced back to the couch, as if
she hadn’t been doing anything but minding her own business on someone else’s couch.

Still sounded crazy. She’d have to work on that.

At the last moment, she looked back at the computer and realized the obvious white
of the document was highly noticeable, versus the black of the screensaver.
Please
come
back
on
soon. Please.

She heard Jeremy’s key in the lock, and the deadbolt scraped over before the door
swung open. He didn’t even glance at the couch as he tossed his helmet and backpack
over her direction. On instinct, she caught the helmet before it hit her in the face,
letting the backpack slap her in the side. She might as well have been a throw pillow,
for all the notice he gave her. Walking straight to the kitchen area, he grabbed a
bottle of water from the fridge and a couple of pills—ibuprofen or something similar,
she could guess from the shape of the container—and tossed them back with a gulp.
Then, almost as if some invisible shift of atmosphere alerted him to a difference
in the room, his head slowly turned in her direction.

His eyes widened, and the hand holding the bottle slipped down until it knocked against
the handle of the fridge. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She placed the helmet on the couch next to her and smiled, like nothing was out of
the ordinary. “I came over to see you. How are things?”

He shook his head slowly, like he wanted to clear a fog from his mind. “You came over—how
did you get in here?”

She held up a hand, key between her fingers. “Dwayne asked me to run by his place
sometime to make sure that everything was okay, nothing being bothered. And while
I was there, I realized he had a set of your keys.”

“Which you stole.”

“Reconned,” she clarified with a grin. “Just borrowing. I’ll replace them later. Which
leads me to ask, why did you never give me a spare key to your place? I have Dwayne’s
and Tim’s.”

He just lifted a brow, his expression saying
maybe
because
of
something
like
this?

“Okay, forget I asked.” She took a moment to evaluate him from head to toe. His eyes
were slightly unfocused, his mouth pulled into a grim line. His shoulders were close
to around his ears, like he couldn’t relax them even if he tried. And his stance was
battle-ready… though that might be her fault as much as anything else. “What’s wrong?”

He laughed, but it was harsh and she winced at the sound. After one more swig of water,
he recapped the bottle. “What isn’t wrong?” He plopped down on the office chair and
glanced idly at his computer. Then, realizing the screen was activated, he pushed
a button to turn the monitor off.

Madison sniffed delicately. “Did you go to that place on Seventh? You smell like nacho
cheese.”

“Yeah.”

Pulling teeth with this one. Well, she was no dentist, but she’d give it a go. “Did
you go with friends?”

“Quite the opposite. My father. The most stubborn person I know.” He eyed her suspiciously.
“You two have quite a lot in common, ironically. Madison, what are you doing here?”

She stood then, watched as his eyes took her in full length now. She was glad she’d
come dressed for battle. Not quite the battle he might expect. But a fight all the
same. She’d slipped into her tightest jeans, tossed on a men’s white undershirt tank
top that she knew showed the outline of her bra, and tied up the end in a knot in
the back so that a sliver of her midriff showed.

Battle. Hell. It was an all-out war. And Jeremy was a worthy opponent. But he was
about to surrender, if it was the last thing either of them did.

Now or never.

***

He was going to die. Plain and simple. Today was the day Jeremy Phillips died.

First, the dinner with his father. Not even his two beers could eliminate the off-center
feeling the constant haranguing from his father about his military career—or lack
thereof—gave him. And of course, the constant reminder that dating a woman in the
military would just never work out.

Naturally. Because doing anything to keep his old man proud for more than a week at
a time was clearly beyond him. The ability to stop caring if his father was proud
was also, apparently, beyond him. Catch-22.

And now, in the sanctuary of his own apartment, where he could pound away at his keyboard
if he wanted to for hours of stress relief, or watch a game in his underwear, or just
pass out in bed because it’d already been a pisser of a day… stood the ultimate temptation.
Madison O’Shay, sexy as sin in some see-through tank top and jeans that he was pretty
sure would require industrial-strength scissors to get off, staring at him like she
wasn’t sure which body part to start nibbling on first.

And not a single one of his defenses leapt to the forefront to save him. No, not one.
It was as if the entire day had been carefully constructed to beat him down so hard
that the moment he truly needed the ability to resist, he was broken.

“Jeremy?” Her voice was soft, uncertain. “Are you feeling okay?”

He rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb, bore in just a little too hard, hoping
the pain would snap him out of imagining what that tank would look like tossed over
his chair. “No. Not really. It’s been a hell of a day, Mad. Could we do this another
time?”

She smiled, and he just realized he’d all but suggested they have sex some other day.
He scowled. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I think you don’t know what you mean.” She took another step forward. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” he said, completely honest. He never would have ridden his bike drunk or even
remotely buzzed. He was just suffering from an acute case of Life Sucks.

Her smile widened. “Good. Then you have no excuse for this later.”

He set the bottle of water down on his desk, making sure the cap was tightly screwed
on, and stood up. “Excuse for wh—”

But he couldn’t finish. Who could, when his arms were full of warm, soft woman and
his mouth was being expertly manipulated by lips intent on seduction?

Not many men. Definitely not him. That’s for damn sure.

Automatically his hands went around to bring her closer, pull her against him. Let
her feel the ridge beneath his jeans and show her exactly what she’d walked herself
into.

If he’d hoped for a maidenly gasp of horror and a quick exit, he’d have been sorely
disappointed. Feeling his own arousal only seemed to spur Madison on. As if she needed
any sort of encouragement. Whatever she was doing was just damn fine with him.

No. No, wait. Not fine. Damnit, no. He pulled back, but she managed to step with him.
“Madison. No.”

“I hate that word,” she murmured, pressing her lips to the pulse hammering below his
jaw. God, he was going to pass out at this rate. “I think you hate it too. Let’s not
use it tonight.”

He was on the brink of agreeing. Of telling her sure, what the hell. But he knew better.
This wasn’t a what-the-hell. It was his best friend’s sister. A woman he could never
be involved with and get out unscathed. A disaster in the making.

“God, you think loudly.” She pulled her head back just enough to look at him and raise
a brow. “Jeremy. We’re adults. And I’m here because I want you. You clearly want me
back. And I think it hurts you to say no. Can we stop making this more complicated
than a couple of hot hours between the sheets?”

He stepped back once more but stumbled and sat down hard at his desk chair. Madison,
who never let go of her hold of him, fell with him, straddling his lap.

She laughed, the sound filling his sterile apartment, filling his mind, filling in
holes that had nothing to do with physical hunger and everything to do with his soul.
“That was actually convenient, though I don’t think it was your main purpose.”

Yeah. Feeling her core press against his erection was exactly the purpose. Pure torture—what
red-blooded male didn’t want some of that? “Madison.”

She bit on his earlobe, then licked the stinging spot with the top of her tongue.
Then she whispered, “Your day sucked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It really did.”

“I want you so bad I can barely breathe. You want me. And you need to put the day
behind you. Decompress. Let’s decompress together.”

And he lost it. Every reason, every good thought, every piece of common sense he’d
ever had about the two of them fled his brain. God, he needed her. Needed the feeling
she brought to him. The fire through his blood he hadn’t felt in so long. The sense
of living for something other than the daily grind and someone else’s dream.

He needed Madison. Even if just for the night. Even if there was a shelf life of twelve
hours in the relief, on the pleasure. He’d take it, and God help him tomorrow.

He gripped her thighs from behind and stood. Instinctively her legs wrapped around
his torso and she laughed with glee.

“Nice choice, Marine.”

It might be. Or it could be the worst decision of his life. He’d find out tomorrow.
Tonight he just needed her.

Something changed. And not just his concession to give them a chance in the bedroom.
Madison felt his entire body posture, the stiffness in his muscles, even the way he
breathed change the moment he gave himself permission to let go and have a little
fun with her. As if some massive weight, or some important burden was lifted from
him, even temporarily.

It was a huge deal, she knew. And she wouldn’t let him down. He might be thinking
this was only for the night. Might not be able to see past that for his own sanity.
But she’d show him the truth of the matter later. No worries.

One night wouldn’t be enough for him. And it damn sure wouldn’t be enough for her.

As he walked her backward toward the bed area, she unwrapped her arms from his neck,
leaned back just a little, reached down, and pulled the tank up and over her head.
The material slid from her lax fingers as Jeremy’s eyes immediately drifted down to
where her bra covered her breasts. Barely. It was the prettiest underwear she owned.
The only pretty underwear, really. And thank God she’d had the foresight to put it
on before she came over. Somehow she didn’t think plain cotton Hanes panties and a
ragged sports bra screamed
do
me, hot stuff
.

“Mad.” He set her down on her feet next to the unmade bed, eyes still at her chest.
With what she could only describe as reverence, he traced his thumbs over the scalloped
edge of the cups, where her breasts filled the material and threatened to spill over
just a little. So maybe she needed a better fit. Pretty bras weren’t her thing… she’d
guessed on the size. Like hell was she going to let some stranger cop a feel with
a measuring tape to get a better idea on her size.

Jeremy didn’t seem to mind.

Just the pass of his thumbs over her skin made her shiver. But when he reached around
to undo the clasp, she stopped him. “Not yet. Let’s work on you a little first.”

Maybe it was a cop-out. But the momentous occasion was starting to weigh on her, and
she wanted it to last. Any shield to protect her she’d keep up as long as physically
possible. Not that the lace was doing a great job of protection, given her pebbled
nipples were clearly outlined through the thin material.

But Jeremy didn’t argue. Instead he just reached behind him, grabbed a hunk of shirt
between his shoulder blades, and pulled the polo up and over his head in one swoop.
His olive undershirt clung for a moment, drifting up before falling back to cover
his torso. Damn. Unable to stop herself, she pushed it back up and over his head as
best she could. He bent down obligingly to give her a hand as she struggled to pop
the neckline over his head. His dog tags made cheerful clinking sounds as they fell
back against his chest. She’d caught a glimpse; no way was she letting him cover back
up.

She breathed a little sigh of… what? Relief? No, more a sigh of contentment as his
upper body was bared to her completely. She’d seen him without a shirt on before,
working out or at the beach when the whole gang had gone. But here, in his apartment,
just the two of them, the soft glow of the overhead lights and their hard breathing
the only things surrounding them, the whole thing was more decadent. Delicious. And
she had the opportunity to touch rather than just look. Skimming her hands up from
his abs, she covered the lean muscle there, the cut ridges and planes of his chest
up to his sculpted shoulders. Bulky, he was not. But built, oh yes. Enough to have
everything feminine in her silently giggling with anticipation.

“That’s better.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “If that’s all you wanted, then…” He reached for
his shirts on the floor.

She laughed and grabbed his wrist. “No way, bucko.”

He raised a brow. “Your turn.” And before she could stop him again, he reached around
her and flicked open the clasp of her bra. The material gave immediately and she wanted
to cover herself out of instinct. But she wasn’t exactly a virgin, and this wasn’t
her first trip down peek-a-boo lane. So why the modesty?

The enormity. As the lace fell away, she knew they were hitting the point of no return.
And it was scary. But when the look in his eyes turned from interested to downright
predatory, she knew there was nothing to worry about.

“God, Madison.” He reached out and cupped one in each hand, testing the weight, lightly
rubbing his thumbs over her tight peaks. “You’ve always had these, right?”

She swatted his arm, biting back another laugh. “They’re under lock and key in my
scrubs or uniform.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, then before she could say a word he nudged her down on her
back across his bed. Habit had her smoothing the sheets out as she slid down. She
had no time to guess his next move as he unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them and
her panties off in one fell swoop.

Well. The matching panties were a bit of a bust. Glad she hadn’t expected a huge reveal
there.

Her flip-flops fell to the floor along with the denim and lace, and she was completely
naked. But this time, the frank lust on Jeremy’s face had her squirming with excitement
rather than embarrassment. He looked his fill, not moving over her quickly to continue.
But savoring the moment, as if he was taking mental pictures so he could think back
on the moment repeatedly.

Talk about an ego booster.

She stretched just a little to the side, knowing it’d push out her booty and breasts
in a more flattering way. She wasn’t as long and lean as Skye, but she kept her body
in shape and hoped that would be good enough.

His eyes flashed, and she was grateful he hadn’t suddenly expected her to morph into
a five-foot-ten Amazon sex goddess.

“Are you waiting for something?”

“My heart to start back up,” he answered honestly, then unbuttoned his own pants before
shucking them, his boxers, and boots all as fast as he could. When he almost plunged
to the floor nose-first with one boot caught in the hem of his jeans, she laughed.
When was the last time she’d laughed, honestly enjoyed herself so much during sex?

He shot her a look that promised revenge, so she smothered the sound in a pillow.

“Just for that,” he crawled over the side of her, skimming a hand up from thigh to
breast, “I’ll have to punish you.”

He tweaked one nipple a little harder than she expected, and she gasped, arching into
the touch. “Sounds serious.”

“Very. I would’ve loved nothing more than crawling over you and getting deep inside.
God, I would have wanted nothing more. But I think that might be too easy.”

“Easy my ass,” she mumbled, thinking of how long it’d taken her to get them to this
point. But she bit her lip when he pulled at her other nipple in silent command.

And the laughter suddenly evaporated. The atmosphere shifted, morphed, grew into something
completely different. Not playful any longer, but almost desperate with need. Not
just wanted it. But needed. To be in control. To lead in bed, have the ability to
make the choices.

She wasn’t about to say no. Not when his hands were doing fantastic things to her
skin as they brushed up and down her body, barely missing all the good parts. She
struggled a little when his fingers skimmed over her thigh, hoping to bump him to
where she wanted.

“Uh-huh.” As if to emphasize his control, Jeremy took his hand away completely. So
not what she wanted. Her entire body stilled, barely breathing, and he resumed his
torturous exploration.

“That’s right, Mad. Let’s just take this nice and slow.”

She looked up at him, not at all shocked to see the depths in his eyes. He’d always
been quiet, his conscious a little deeper than most men she’d known. But now, it was
like he was on some other plane even she couldn’t reach. But it was what he needed,
apparently. And she wasn’t going to deny him.

His lips feathered out over her brow, down her cheek, by her ear. He whispered things
she couldn’t understand, wasn’t even sure if they were words. But they sounded beautiful
anyway. Finally, as his hand crept around her thigh and between them, dipping in to
skim over her center, she breathed with combined relief and anxiety.

“Jeremy. Please kiss me.”

He sat back and stared at her. Too far? Had she pushed too far? Maybe she’d snapped
him out of whatever place his mind had retreated to.

But he smiled, a sort of smile she’d imagine a pirate giving just before he conquered
an opposing ship. He bent over, his dog tags landing against her sternum, the metal
warmed from his skin. And he gave her what she wanted. A kiss, yes. But also reassurance
that it wasn’t just her body he was making love to.

Whether he realized it or not, his lips told the story as they carefully, gently brushed
over hers. His heart was engaged too.

***

Goddammit. How was he supposed to ignore her breathless request for a kiss?

He wasn’t, that’s how. There was no way he could feel how wet she was for him, hear
her little pants of breath, and then know she wanted to be kissed and deny it. Even
if it was going to make turning away from this night that much harder.

So, because he was a masochist, he kissed her. Or maybe just because it felt right.

But he knew, even as her thighs tightened around his wrist, her breasts pushing into
his chest with every breath, her tongue flicking out to meet his… No. One night wasn’t
going to be enough.

She opened for him more, giving him the chance to slip in one testing finger, then
two. Stretching her, testing her, driving her closer to the brink. She had to be close
to gone before he got inside her, or he’d embarrass himself and come before she even
got out of the starting gate.

He wanted her too damn much. Not just any woman. Madison. God, it was Madison beneath
him.

She gasped as his fingers curved around and found a particularly interesting spot.
Nails bit into his arms and her head tilted back. The pulse in her neck beat double-time.
And he gave in to the temptation to slide down and give some attention to her nipples.

Sweet little marbles, just begging for some tender loving care. He had it in spades,
and he was willing to share. Taking one into his mouth, he sucked deep, smiling against
her skin when her breath hitched in her chest. Fingers drifted up from his arms into
his hair that he kept just this side of regulation length. And she scratched lightly.

Aw, hell. Almost forgetting for a moment about her pleasure, he nuzzled into her hands,
wanting more of the scalp-tingling delight. Then she vised around his fingers once
more.
Dammit, asshole, concentrate. You’re not number one here, she is.

He pumped his fingers in, letting his thumb graze her clit only intermittently, though
she wanted it more. He grinned at the tightening of her muscles, reading all too well
she was getting frustrated, annoyed, and if he kept it up… pissed.
Too
bad. I know what you need.

I
know
what
we
need.

The thought hit him like an arrow. And immediately, regret followed that this would
never last.

But for now, he had her.

He used one forearm to shift her body over until she was completely on the bed, then
reached with his other for a condom in his drawer. Damn almost-f box. He’d seen
scary little action since Madison PCSed to his base. But that was his fault.

And he was damn well about to end the dry spell.

He finished covering himself in the fastest job he’d done since he learned how to
use a rubber and used one knee to spread her legs wider. “Madison.”

“Hmm.” She smiled almost blissfully as she lifted her hips up to meet him. But he
wasn’t ready. Not quite yet. Although it killed him to hold off, it was important.

“Open up.”

One side of her mouth quirked. “I’m open, Jeremy.” To emphasize, she lifted her pelvis
again, wet heat brushing against his cock.

“Your eyes, babe.” He kissed the corner of one closed eyelid. “Open up.”

He needed to see her. If nothing else, he needed to take this one memory with him
when it was all over.

She blinked a few times, then caught his gaze and smiled. “Hey.”

“Hi.” And he pushed in. Slow, steady, no force necessary. But he could see every inch
of progression reflected in the dreamy look her eyes took on. As if there were nothing
in the world more complete than the moment they joined together. He couldn’t disagree.
Gritting his teeth, he continued until he was completely in. Dammit, heaven and hell
were a fine line apart. And he straddled it.

“Jeremy.” She sighed, her eyes drifting closed again, hands coming to scratch lightly
at his back. And he lost it. Just lost it. Any hope of control completely gone.

“Swear… next time… better.” It was the only thing he could say before pulling back
and pushing ahead again, repeatedly, until his body took on the pattern all on its
own. Like a machine, working under its own steam so he could relax and enjoy the ride.

God, what a ride. She met him thrust for thrust, actively seeking her own pleasure.
And when she reached down between their bodies for just a moment to tease herself,
the fight to prolong the pleasure was over.

“Mad. Madison.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to her neck where it met her shoulder
and felt her—thank you, God—start to clench around him in her own orgasm. And with
that final knowledge that she’d reached her pleasure, he finally took his own.

***

Wow.

Holy wow.

She didn’t have better words for it. None existed in the English language. That much
she was sure of.

Madison rolled over just a little to watch Jeremy sleep. Shockingly, after a quick
clean-up, he’d curled around her in bed and held on tight. She’d assumed he would
make some bullshit excuse about why she had to go, to give them both space and time.
Time for him to shore up his defenses and come up with some logical explanation why
they should never do that again. Blah blah blah.