I’m not?” She loved the sound of his voice and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he tried not to smile.
“No,” he nuzzled the corner of her lips, “you are definitely not.”
She opened her mouth to argue, and he kissed her again, thoroughly derailing her argument. When they came up for air, she forgot what they’d been discussing.
A satisfied look settled on his face and he grinned. “I win.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed.
Sometime around three in the morning, he slept. Really slept. He’d intended to go back to his quarters, but every time he thought about leaving, she kissed him or he kissed her. He’d honestly lost track of who did what to whom, but had made one trip back to his quarters…for another condom or three. When she finally fell asleep, sprawled across him, head pillowed on his chest, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her.
Instead, he listened to her breathe. The soft sound soothed him, and the whispery little eddies of air puffing on his skin eased something deeper inside. For once, he fought sleep when it tried to claim him. He didn’t want to miss a moment of this too-rare serenity. Between one blink and the next, he drifted off, only to snap awake when the warmth pillowed against him pulled away.
He sat up and searched the room, worry tightening his chest. The sound of water running in the bathroom reduced the pressure on his ribs. Swinging his legs off the bed, he leaned forward and stared down at her discarded T-shirt and cotton panties. Reality set in swiftly and he checked the time, though his internal clock was pretty steady.
Gritting his teeth, he sucked it up and rose. Dressing efficiently, he ignored the state of his uniform. He would be shedding it again shortly. At the door to the bathroom, he knocked once. “Jana?”
“Yeah?” The water cut off, and the door muffled her voice.
“I’m going to go shower and change. Do not leave until I come back for you. I’ll make sure you’re in the kitchen in time.” He waited for her acknowledgement.
“Okay.” No argument. She turned him inside out. The door opened, and she gave him an almost shy smile. “Happy Thanksgiving, Charlie.”
The unexpected sweetness damn near robbed him of his good intentions—twice. But the night had ended, and he had to be in uniform and ready for duty no matter what his body wanted. Bending, he brushed his mouth to hers gently. “Happy Thanksgiving, Jana.”
Training alone forced him out of her room. He retreated to his quarters, showered quickly, dressed in a fresh uniform, and suited up. By the time he returned, she stood ready—flak jacket and helmet in place. He fixed one of the buckles, smiling the whole time. Yeah, he still thought her visit was a bad idea, but couldn’t help but be grateful for it at the same time.
“Ready?”
“Yes, sir.” Another shy smile curved her mouth, and he smothered the need to kiss her until her eyes glazed over. They had a lot of work to do.
It was O-seven-hundred when they entered the kitchens, and the mouthwatering scents jerked him out of Afghanistan and thousands of miles away to home. If nothing else, she’d accomplished one mission. Every Marine working in the kitchen greeted her warmly, though traces of the innate wistfulness for home remained.
“Someone want to hit the music?” Jana called out, stripping out of her jacket and helmet like a pro. “I’m ready to get the yams in the oven.”
Charlie found a perch near the door and settled in. It would be his duty station for the day, keeping watch over her.
He didn’t mind one little bit.
By the time they served the second meal of the day, Jana pushed through her work on a diet of adrenaline and euphoria. Adrenaline because every time she glanced at Charlie, her heart rate increased and heat flooded her body. Euphoria because she’d found Robbie’s friends.
They came in a batch at the end of the first Thanksgiving mealtime, and Charlie made a point
“No,” he nuzzled the corner of her lips, “you are definitely not.”
She opened her mouth to argue, and he kissed her again, thoroughly derailing her argument. When they came up for air, she forgot what they’d been discussing.
A satisfied look settled on his face and he grinned. “I win.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed.
Sometime around three in the morning, he slept. Really slept. He’d intended to go back to his quarters, but every time he thought about leaving, she kissed him or he kissed her. He’d honestly lost track of who did what to whom, but had made one trip back to his quarters…for another condom or three. When she finally fell asleep, sprawled across him, head pillowed on his chest, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her.
Instead, he listened to her breathe. The soft sound soothed him, and the whispery little eddies of air puffing on his skin eased something deeper inside. For once, he fought sleep when it tried to claim him. He didn’t want to miss a moment of this too-rare serenity. Between one blink and the next, he drifted off, only to snap awake when the warmth pillowed against him pulled away.
He sat up and searched the room, worry tightening his chest. The sound of water running in the bathroom reduced the pressure on his ribs. Swinging his legs off the bed, he leaned forward and stared down at her discarded T-shirt and cotton panties. Reality set in swiftly and he checked the time, though his internal clock was pretty steady.
Gritting his teeth, he sucked it up and rose. Dressing efficiently, he ignored the state of his uniform. He would be shedding it again shortly. At the door to the bathroom, he knocked once. “Jana?”
“Yeah?” The water cut off, and the door muffled her voice.
“I’m going to go shower and change. Do not leave until I come back for you. I’ll make sure you’re in the kitchen in time.” He waited for her acknowledgement.
“Okay.” No argument. She turned him inside out. The door opened, and she gave him an almost shy smile. “Happy Thanksgiving, Charlie.”
The unexpected sweetness damn near robbed him of his good intentions—twice. But the night had ended, and he had to be in uniform and ready for duty no matter what his body wanted. Bending, he brushed his mouth to hers gently. “Happy Thanksgiving, Jana.”
Training alone forced him out of her room. He retreated to his quarters, showered quickly, dressed in a fresh uniform, and suited up. By the time he returned, she stood ready—flak jacket and helmet in place. He fixed one of the buckles, smiling the whole time. Yeah, he still thought her visit was a bad idea, but couldn’t help but be grateful for it at the same time.
“Ready?”
“Yes, sir.” Another shy smile curved her mouth, and he smothered the need to kiss her until her eyes glazed over. They had a lot of work to do.
It was O-seven-hundred when they entered the kitchens, and the mouthwatering scents jerked him out of Afghanistan and thousands of miles away to home. If nothing else, she’d accomplished one mission. Every Marine working in the kitchen greeted her warmly, though traces of the innate wistfulness for home remained.
“Someone want to hit the music?” Jana called out, stripping out of her jacket and helmet like a pro. “I’m ready to get the yams in the oven.”
Charlie found a perch near the door and settled in. It would be his duty station for the day, keeping watch over her.
He didn’t mind one little bit.
By the time they served the second meal of the day, Jana pushed through her work on a diet of adrenaline and euphoria. Adrenaline because every time she glanced at Charlie, her heart rate increased and heat flooded her body. Euphoria because she’d found Robbie’s friends.
They came in a batch at the end of the first Thanksgiving mealtime, and Charlie made a point
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