Over the Line (17 page)

His kiss messed with her head, her heart, her whole body. She kissed him back, pushing her tongue against his, and reveling in the heat that flooded her body. Her resolve not to be intimate with him again evaporated into nothing. Once again, the intoxication of his proximity slayed her. How had she survived those weeks in the MRAP without knowing him like this? Everything had changed in the space of a couple of days. His steady gaze pinned her.

James pulled away, took a step back and released her. “This is on you, sweetheart. Your choice. I’m not going to take advantage of the rush we’re both on from this evening. Take a moment to decide whether this is what you really want. Whether
I’m
what you really want.”

She could follow him, or not. Decide to sleep with him or not. Every part of her mind told her it was a bad idea. Every part of her body tingled with the anticipation of the way she knew James could make her feel. She’d worry later. Right now, she did want him. She followed him into the bedroom.

Wordlessly, he pulled her toward him. Every touch was gentle, deliberate. The intensity in his light eyes took her breath away. Her breath hitched in her throat as he carefully unbuttoned her jacket, unzipped her skirt. In seconds she was in her underwear, her skin prickling under his fingers. He left her panties and bra on while he made short work of his own clothes. Then he was naked, all hard muscle and glinting eyes. He laid her back on the bed and her whole reality faded. Just this moment in time was hers. Was real. She touched his leg with her foot, and he caught it, raising it to his lips. He kissed her arch and she squirmed under the hot tickle of his stubble.

He leaned over her and kissed up the outside of her leg until he was next to her on the bed. She struggled to hold everything together as he stroked her face, kissing where his fingers had been seconds before. He touched the tip of his finger to her nipple through her bra, his eyes pinning hers.

It was… intimate. As if he was seeing her every emotion. Every thought. She gasped as her body responded to his, nipples hardening and liquid pooling between her legs. It was as if her whole inside was on fire, and her outside was cool and vulnerable. Too vulnerable. But she liked being vulnerable with him. It made her feel honest, and real, and open to him. And if she couldn’t bring herself to be those things in public, she could be those things here.

She kissed him and swung her leg over his and then sat up, reveling in the feel of his hardness between her legs. She leaned over him, pretending to kiss him, grinding lightly against him. Her face moved over his; her hair fell over his chest. He groaned at the tease, but his eyes stayed open, watching her every move.

His eyes closed as he nibbled on her lip, teased her with his tongue. She slipped off her bra quickly, so when she pulled away from him and sat up, he would see her.

His breath pulled in abruptly when he opened his eyes again. She rubbed herself gently along his dick, knowing he could feel her heat through her panties.

He raised a finger to her lips and slid it into her mouth. She sucked on it and teased it with her tongue. He withdrew it and slipped the wet finger onto her nipple. Glossing it, sliding around it until he squeezed it gently. She couldn’t help but moan. The way he touched her… she’d never felt anything like it before in her life. Her head fell back and he gasped as her hair fell again, this time over his thighs.

“Do you want me?” she asked hoarsely, trailing her fingers over his smooth chest, flicking his nipples and basking in his responsiveness.

“In every way,” he choked out.

Beth wriggled against his dick and then rose to her knees, feeling it spring up beneath her. As he watched, she pulled her panties to one side and lowered herself onto him.

His eyes darkened. She suddenly wanted to leave him wanting her, unable to think about sex without thinking about her. Irrational. She wanted him thinking about her forever.

She moved her pelvis, adjusting so he could slide inside her. As he did, she squeezed her eyes shut, hiding tears from him and from herself. She rocked herself against him and then raised herself so he came out of her almost entirely, before pushing down on him again and making him shake under her.

His fingers found their way past her panties and gently, so gently she could barely feel it, he stroked her clit. She felt as if all the moisture in her body flooded between her legs. She was scared to let go, scared to come, as if by doing so she would lose control and never regain it.

She slid up and down his dick until he was bucking beneath her. It got faster and hotter, and his fingers stroked and teased her until the universe spun out of her as she climaxed. As she cried out his name, tears sprung from her eyes. His hands grabbed her hips and he drove into her—once, twice—and then groaned, shuddering under her. She relished making him come; it was like having the ultimate power. Except it was a power he had over her, too.

His thumbs swiped the tears from her face and he gathered her to him, cradling her in his arms, laying her on his chest.

* * *

He couldn’t bear that he’d made her cry. All this messing around, pretending to be a couple—why couldn’t he have just switched off his phone and gone climbing? Or just fucking manned up to begin with and told his father to go fuck himself, that he’d date and marry someone of his own choosing.

He wanted to ask her what was wrong, what he could do to make it better, but he didn’t want to push his way into her head that way. It was like seeing people cry downrange: it happened for all kinds of reasons, and if you saw it, you pretended you didn’t to allow that person some privacy and dignity. He worried that if he asked her she’d never forgive him for pointing out her weakness.

Shit, but this wasn’t downrange, and she was here as a woman, not as a soldier. He looked down, hoping to see the expression on her face, but her eyes were closed, her breathing even.

Shit. Too late.

* * *

When he woke up, she was gone. The first time ever he’d regretted his ability to sleep like a log.

He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and jumped out of bed. They really had to talk. Like really. He went out into the living area and looked at the clock in the kitchen.

Crap. They only had about twenty minutes until the transport left for the restaurant.

“Beth?” he called, but there was no sound in reply, not even water dripping. Then he looked outside and there she was—fully dressed for dinner and walking slowly around the pool, talking on the phone. She looked at peace, and he wondered who she was speaking with. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her eyes danced playfully as she spoke, and her expression appeared open and happy.

She hadn’t looked like that at any time while they’d been together—not at war, not during the weekend. She looked comfortable, softer somehow. He’d do anything to be the one who gave her that peace, but this whole weekend had turned into a mistake of epic proportions. She didn’t do relationships, he didn’t do casual, the sex was the most electric he’d ever experienced, but unfortunately that didn’t seem to be enough to bridge the gap between them.

As if in protest, his dick twitched. Damn it. He turned away to get dressed, convinced he was going to have to cut her loose for his own peace of mind. And his dick’s.

* * *

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Beth almost laughed at her sister’s question.

“What exactly would you say, then? A nine? An eight? For the love of God, tell me he wasn’t sub-zero,” Tammer said, clearly latched on to the topic of grading James’s performance.

“I am not having this conversation with my little sister. It’s all kinds of wrong. But definitely a nine point five, maybe point six.” She touched the smooth surface of a column as she strolled by.

A shriek from her sister made her pull the phone away from her ear. “Sweet hell, are you trying to deafen me? Look, don’t get all excited about this. I’m just here with him for the weekend, then we’re back to our normal lives, okay? Don’t put more importance on this than there is.”

“You’ve gotten laid for the first time in… what is it… ten years? Of course it’s important. He’s a cute, sexy hero. What’s not to love about that?” Tammer was clearly not going to let this one go.

“It is
not
ten years, and I can’t get involved with him. There’s another very good reason I can’t get involved. Remember I told you there was a job I really wanted after leaving the army? Turns out his dad is the boss of the… company. And he really, really doesn’t want me to be with James. If I stay with him, what will I do for a career? Right now, I’m just hoping that I can get into the company without him knowing.” Suddenly she started feeling slightly nauseated again. She’d been shot at more times than she could count, but this whole situation was making her so tense and nervous. So out of her comfort zone. Hell, even the Jimmy Choos were out of her comfort zone.

“Beth. That’s just your career. Some things, like life, are more important than a job.”

“Not to me. My career is my life, you know that,” Beth said.

“I do know that. But it doesn’t have to be.” Her voice was small, and Beth could tell Tammer was giving up the fight.

“How’s the pup? Is he missing me?” she asked a little wistfully.

“Nope, Jubilee doesn’t even remember you, so go out and have a good time, get laid, then come back here and just live on the memories for another ten years.” In the background Beth could hear the dog howling as he did whenever Tammer made a hand signal to him. The sound squeezed her heart a little.

“I miss you both so much,” she said. “Wait… it
wasn’t
ten years!”

But Tammer had already hung up. She smiled for a second at her phone and stuffed it in her purse.

“Are you ready?” James called from across the pool.

She looked up. She was glad he wasn’t close enough to see her slow blink at the sight of him, in a charcoal gray suit, pristine white shirt, with a deep blue tie.
Wow
.

“Ready to go,” Beth said, making her way to him. “Are we driving, or is there some other arrangement?” She needed to keep everything neutral. She was Switzerland.

“There is transportation available, but I thought we’d take the Audi so we don’t get stuck there.”

Beth grinned. “Can I drive?”

His face fell. He looked at his keys, and then again at Beth. “Well, I don’t… it’s just that I never…”

She burst out laughing. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to give up your baby that easily. You drive.” The relief that flooded his face made her laugh harder. “Seriously? It’s like I really asked you for your baby.”

“You did,” he replied weakly.

“Come on, let’s go, you sad, sad person,” she said, nodding toward the car.

The journey didn’t take long, and Beth was careful to talk about things that couldn’t be segued into any awkward areas. She had to keep it together for one more day.

When they arrived they were assigned to different tables at the restaurant. It seemed as if the Walkers had taken over the whole floor of the eatery, with ten round tables seating about seven people each.
Some “small, intimate” rehearsal dinner.

Sadie met them at the door and hooked her arm through James’s. “You’re so lucky I didn’t ask you to be an usher or anything. The rehearsal blew the big one. None of us could remember what we were supposed to be doing and Simon’s Blackberry kept going off. He’s got some work emergency going on and is only half here.” She sighed. “I’m just focusing on the honeymoon now.” Then she seemed to snap to attention. “Oh, you guys. Sorry, Beth, we had to split you up. Dad’s put James at a table with Maisie and several people from The Hill, so I’ve put you at the fun table. You’ll be sitting with Harry. Keep her company, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. Which table?” Beth asked, half relieved and half worried that she wouldn’t be sitting with James.
Gah.
He’d probably prefer to switch with her and sit with Harry. With a slightly rueful look at James, she followed Sadie’s pointing finger and immediately saw Harry alone at a far table. She was staring at a half-empty cocktail glass. Beth intercepted a waiter and asked for another drink for Harry, and a mojito for her.

“Harry,” she said as she approached the table.

“Beth! I’m so glad you’re at our table. Where’s James?”

“At a table with some bigwigs, I think. I ordered us some more drinks,” Beth said, looking over her shoulder for the waiter.

“Then I love you, and I feel doubly bad for what I’ve done.” Harry took another sip from her glass and flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder.

Beth found her place next to Harry and inspected the seat for… she didn’t know really, a whoopee cushion? Thumb tacks? Eventually secure in the fact that the chair hadn’t been booby trapped by James’s ex, she sat. “What did you do?”

“For some unknown reason I ended up sitting next to Jeffrey, Sadie’s ex. So I swapped places with you. Even knowing he’s at the table is making me drink more than I should.”

Beth looked at the card next to hers and yes, it was indeed marked “Jeffrey.” Great. “It’s okay. I’ve only met him once, at the JibJab bar. He lived to tell the tale, so I swear I won’t try to kill him. Not at the table, anyway.”

Harry’s eyes widened and she laughed. “I really do love you.”

Their drinks arrived and they clinked glasses. “So you know Sadie from college? Or was it mostly because you were dating James?” Beth asked. “She told me to keep you company, you know.”

Harry’s smile dropped a fraction. “Sadie and I go way back. And no, I knew Sadie first. Then James. But Sadie’s just worried for me.” At Beth’s inquisitive expression, she continued. “This is the first wedding I’ve been to since my own. I think she thinks this is going to trigger some kind of meltdown.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Bad ending?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she remembered what James had told her about Harry being a widow.

“The worst.” Harry took a huge gulp of her cocktail. “He was killed in Afghanistan.”

Cold washed over Beth. James hadn’t mentioned that she was a military wife. “I’m so sorry. That
is
the worst.”