21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (7 page)

“Mr. Evans?” She had little to go on beyond a brief physical description of each man and their names. The blond was Evans. The brunet would be Cavanaugh. But she hadn’t caught sight of him yet.

“Zach, ma’am.” He found his voice and pulled the door the rest of the way open. “Would you like to come in?”

Ordering the butterflies in her stomach to don battle gear, Jazz slid past him, almost wishing he hadn’t stepped so far back. She wondered if he was as solid as he appeared. But whatever hesitation she experienced imploded when the second man in the room rose to his feet. A scar turned the left side of his mouth downward, but the right side tipped up. If she didn’t know better she would have read surprise in his expression.

“Mr. Cavanaugh.” She extended her hand, wanting to see if he would meet her halfway. Thankfully, he did. The weight of his hand closed on hers and a thrill skated up her arm to spread a wildfire through her insides. The mottled skin puckering his jaw and stretching down the side of his neck suggested an ugly burn, but did nothing to detract from his tanned, handsome face. If anything, it added gravitas to what might otherwise have been a sculpture of perfection.

“Jasmine.” The husky intonation of her name detonated liquid heat between her thighs. Force of will kept a quiver of need from stretching down her legs. Instead, she shook his hand, enjoying the solid force of strength in his grip, but he released her too soon. Her palm itched with the urge to take his hand again.

A moment of awkward silence stretched out between the three of them. Zach joined them next to the table, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“It’s nice to meet both of you.” The lameness of her statement wasn’t lost on her. She actually wondered what she should do next. Better yet, what she wanted them to do next.

“It’s great to meet you.” Zach latched onto her lame statement, buoying her. “We ordered dinner. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but we have a little bit of everything.”

That explained the table with the multiple silver-lidded plates. As though galvanized by Zach’s words, Logan pulled out a chair for her. The simple, gentlemanly act pinged her heart. She couldn’t recall the last time one of the guys held a door for her, much less pulled out a chair. In all fairness, she wouldn’t have encouraged chivalry, not in the units she commanded, much less from her classmates or other commanders whether they outranked her or not.

“Thank you.” She laid the clutch purse on the side table next to the window. The thin black beaded handbag that carried her identification, some lipstick and six newly purchased condoms. Her belly rippled at the reminder of the condoms. Six seemed like an obnoxious number when she’d counted them out, she’d nearly put three of them back. Glancing from one broad-shouldered man to the other, she wished she’d brought more.

Her lips twitched, and she settled into the chair, letting Logan push the seat in gently. He circled around the table, choosing the seat farthest from her and Zach claimed the chair to her immediate right. Logan’s posture corded with tension as he sat down; the action spoke of an old pain, muscles still stiff and sore. Lingering on the visible scarring, she wondered what type of accident he’d been in.

Zach interrupted her wandering thoughts. “I hope you like steak.” He lifted the domed lids and set them off to the side, revealing three juicy steaks, baked potatoes, steamed vegetables, a salad and a heavy central platter filled with everything from mozzarella sticks to barbecue wings. Her stomach rumbled as she inhaled the heady combination of scents.

Both men paused mid-motion and she grinned, unabashed at her stomach’s noisy cheer. “I’m starving actually. I spent the whole day in a spa being fed a steady diet of cucumber water and carrot sticks.”

“Excellent. About the hungry part.” Zach’s grin grew. “Not the rabbit food.”

“Why all day in a spa?” Logan sat back from the table, as though leaning away from the intimacy of the meal. Despite the distance, he studied her and she wished they’d angled the chairs better so she could enjoy watching both men at the same time. Zach’s easy manner, cheerful California surfer good looks were as compelling as Logan’s darker, edgier countenance.

“Wine, water, beer?” Zach asked before she could answer Logan.

“Beer, actually. If you have it.”

“If we have it.” Zach bounded back to his feet, leaving her alone at the table with Logan. “The mini bar’s fully stocked, we have Bud, Heineken, Corona….”

Watching Logan, her curiosity sheathed the lazy desires coiling around her butterflies, stilling their nervous flutters. “Corona, please. And I was in a spa all day to get ready for my date.”

“With two men you’ve never met before.” It wasn’t quite a judgmental statement, but the barest flicker of uncertainty creased Logan’s face.

They’re as nervous as I am
. The thought encouraged her, quieting the last of her nerves.

“Yes. I wanted to feel pretty.” Honesty provided the best defense. An evening predicated on a fantasy deserved it.

“I hope you feel gorgeous because you look it.” Zach rejoined them, setting three open bottles of Corona on the table, hesitating only when he thought to pass the bottle to her. “Did you want a glass?”

“Bottle is fine. It’s colder that way.” She wrapped her fingers around the long neck and sipped. Desire flared in Zach’s eyes as he watched her drink. Lowering the bottle, she fought the urge to lick her lips. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I had a reason to dress up like this.”

Dress blues didn’t count. She looked great in them. She was all Marine when she wore them. Always a Marine, but tonight she wanted to embrace her inner woman and let her out to play.

Studying the food in front of her, she took the time to spread a napkin over her lap to protect the dress’s fabric. But even as she picked up the knife and fork, Logan’s steady gaze never wavered.

“Why would someone like you sign up for a one-night stand with a pair of total strangers?” No hint of subtlety softened the blunt question.

“Logan.” Zach jerked around to stare at the other man.

“No, it’s a fair question.” She gave in to the impulse and laid a hand on Zach’s arm. Muscle flexed beneath the long-sleeved shirt, heat filtering up to warm her hand. Touching him made the evening real. Interest replaced exasperation on Zach’s features.

“So, why?” If Zach’s censure disturbed Logan, it didn’t show.

“Because I’ve fantasized about a ménage before. I wanted a night where I could feel like a woman, the only woman here. In my work, I travel…a lot.” An understatement, but she wanted to cull the reality from her fantasy. “I don’t get to date, I don’t meet many men who I don’t work with or who don’t report to me. Why did you agree to a night with a total stranger? One who wanted a ménage?”

Logan took a long pull of beer, one elbow resting on the table. “It was his idea.”

“He’s not generally this much of an ass,” Zach said, by way of apology. “And it was my idea. There’re a few of us who signed up with the service, power in numbers and all that. A friend of ours met the woman of his dreams this way.”

Tension thrummed through her and she removed her hand to reach for the fork and knife. Eating would give her something else to concentrate on. Logan’s words sounded like he didn’t want to be there, but the naked heat in his eyes suggested a hell of a lot more than just interest. As if on cue, both men cut into their meals.

“Are you looking for the woman of your dreams?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She laughed at the dueling answers, cracking the newly wound tension coiling in her belly.
Am I really sitting in a hotel room with two of the best looking men I’ve seen in a long time, eating steak, drinking beer and planning to have sex with both of them
?

“Have you done this before?” She speared a piece of steak, the flavor succulent, not heavily spiced but rich, and she wondered what they would do if she stole the meat right off their plates.

“The one-night stand part?” Zach asked after a swallow. She watched the way he shaped the words with his beautiful mouth. Firm, even and strong.

“Hmm, the ménage part.” Her gaze slid over the table to Logan, who jerked his attention back to his food when he caught her watching him. Yes, definitely more interested than he seemed comfortable with showing.

“A few times,” Zach admitted. “But they were a long time ago.”

“We don’t generally share our women like we would a bottle of beer or season passes to the Rangers.” Logan’s gruffness undercut Zach’s easy manner.

To hell with it. This is my night. See the men. Take the men
. “I can imagine taking on both of you is going to be a challenge. I can’t remember the last time I had good sex, much less the promise of incredible sex with two of the hottest men I’ve ever seen. So if I don’t remember to thank you in the morning, let me say it now.”

Logan jerked and Zach stared at her in wonder. Laughter surged around the desire humming through her. No hint of artifice marred their reactions. She admired both their physiques, their facial features, and paused to study their hands. Logan’s fingers were long, thick and gripped his silverware tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Zach’s were gentler, the fork hanging loosely.

She crossed one leg over the other and her sex clenched. She looked forward to discovering what those hands could do. But more than that, she wanted to get her own hands on the men. They were wearing far too many clothes. She’d eaten nearly half the steak, but the food lost its appeal.

“Would you two like to play a game?” She didn’t know where the wanton in her came from, but she embraced it.

“Name your terms.” Zach jumped on board, but Logan only raised his eyebrows. His gaze continually drifted along her face and then lowered as though drawn to the plunging neckline that offered up her breasts for inspection. Her nipples hardened at the thought, and she hoped they peeked through the silky fabric. She wanted him to know how he made her feel.

“Simple terms.” Cradling the bottle between two of her fingers, she stroked her thumb around the rim. She knew the moment both of them noticed her thumb’s gentle caress. “Truth or dare.”

The table bumped, silverware clattering to plates.

“Dare me.” Zach grinned. “Double dare.”

Reckless abandon shimmered in the air around Jasmine. Her arrival in the hotel suite struck him like a blow to the solar plexus. Exquisite. honey-colored skin, full, pouty red lips and a face capped with a whimsical sweep of black curl that caressed her face. The sexiest pixie he’d ever seen. With steel sheathed in fragility, she stood on the chair, one bare foot propped on the table. A slender silver band wrapped around her index toe beckoned him.

“I’m king of the world!” She threw her arms wide, breasts arching toward the ceiling and the strangest sensation of lightheartedness swept through him.

Logan laughed. Zach whipped around at the sound, but he ignored him. Her pose hinted at the red panties beneath her black dress. Panties that matched the red paint on her toes.

Archly, she stared at him. “Truth or dare.”

She hopped down from the chair, accepting Zach’s hand. She leaned into him, still grinning from the dare to play out her favorite movie part.

Logan met the snapping fire in her black eyes. They were the color of midnight, the velvety, sweet spot of night.
Oh, what the hell
…. “Dare.”

Still leaning against his friend, she clapped her hands together. The playfulness stretched the scars around Logan’s heart.

“I dare you to kiss me.” Her throaty whisper hitched just the barest moment on the last word. His gut jerked at the challenge. He hadn’t kissed a woman, not even Rochelle, since before the accident. She’d always seemed repulsed by the muscle atrophy that turned the left side of his face into a permanent frown, the pity in her expression whenever she turned at the last moment to kiss his right cheek, never his left.

Jasmine however, reflected only anticipation, humor and breathless wonder. Did the night free her to such abandon?
Is she always like this
? He found himself hoping—actually hoping—that the answer combined the two.

Zach’s hand grazed along the gentle swell of her hip and Logan’s gaze wandered over her curves before he lifted his right hand and beckoned her with a finger. If she wanted a kiss, she had to come and get it.

A challenge.

A gauntlet.

Damned if she didn’t circle around Zach toward him. She planted one hand near his plate and the other feathered down to touch his left shoulder. Anticipation twisted through his gut, nobody touched his scars, but the heat of it pushed right through the fabric, digging deep into the scar tissue to spread warmth tumbling against the strange squeeze around his heart.

He lifted his chin a fraction in invitation. Her sinful, pink tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. A perfect cupid’s bow. A year ago, he would have urged it down to his cock. Hell, he was considering that now.

Her warm breath teased his face. He smelled the sweetness of her perfume, some flowery combination that reminded him of sultry, hot Texas nights. It seemed eons passed between the dip of her head until the moment her lips caressed the corner of his mouth.

The left corner.

The damaged and permanently scarred corner.

A jolt speared him as her tongue stroked over the scar tissue. She kissed him slowly, a symphony of light, erotic sensations. He opened for her and sucked the flavor inside. The cold, practical part of his mind snorted at the clack of teeth. Hardly the kiss of an expert, but when he dared explore deeper, a shiver of awareness rippled over his skin, awakening long dormant needs.

Warm, wet heat flooded his joints, but his cock remained ever quiet, unmoved. He gave into the temptation to cup her face with his hands, fingers stroking the smoothness of her cheek. She didn’t pull away and the kiss ended as slowly as it began, with nuzzling sweetness along his scars. Her gentle retreat brushed her nose against his and he steeled himself for the revulsion—or worse, the pity—he would see in her, but her heavy-lidded black eyes offered no hint of condolence.