It's Always Been You (18 page)

She nestled close, the warm cotton of her t-shirt soft against his skin. “You’re warm,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

“You’re not naked,” he complained, tracing his fingers over the small of her back.

“We can fix that.”

She leaned back to lift her shirt but Ben surprised her by pushing up onto his knees and lying her down on the couch. “Much better,” he murmured.

He leaned down, lifting her shirt, pressing her lips to her belly. Dragging his tongue over her skin as he pushed the shirt higher.

Olivia was lost in sensation. She surrendered to the warmth of his touch, the heat that smoldered beneath his fingertips. His fingers traced over her ribs and tugged her sweats down.

She was naked.

Ben knelt between her thighs and urged them wider. She wanted to cover herself. To shield her body from his view.

This was too much. The brush of air on her skin. The dance of his fingertips over her stomach.

She closed her eyes. Ben smiled. She was beautiful. Strong. But spread before him just then, she was his. Nothing more. Nothing less.

His.

He slid between her thighs, loving the sensation of her wrapping them around his hips.

He kissed her then, slipping a hand between their bodies to touch her gently where she was open and swollen and so fucking beautiful. He captured her gasp in his mouth as he touched her. Felt her tremble when he slipped one finger inside her.

“Ben.” His name was a plea on her lips. Something beautiful. A mark of possession. A need.

* * *

She could have watched him roll the condom in place.

But she didn’t. She reached for it, sliding her hand over his erection. Stroking that soft, smooth satin steel before tearing open the small foil ring.

His stomach tensed beneath her touch.

She pressed her lips gently to the aching head. Felt him jump at the same time he sucked in a harsh breath. “Olivia.”

Her name was pained. Tense.

She owned this. Wanted to claim him.

She traced her tongue over the tip of him. Felt his entire body tremble beneath her touch. She sucked him softly into her mouth, her tongue tracing the tip.

“Oh god.”

He fisted his hands in her hair, his fingers tight and tense. His touch filled her with power. Raw. Ragged.

He wrenched her away and pulled the condom from her hand and rolled it into place.

“I want to be inside you when I come,” he whispered right before he kissed her.

He filled her then, pushing deep, deep inside her. Touching the reserved center of her that ached for him.

Together they rode the wave of pleasure. Together they shattered. And when the world stopped spinning, together, they tumbled into sleep, twined in each other’s arms.

“Sir, I need a minute of your time.” First Sarn’t Sorren stood in Ben’s doorway, his entire body radiating pissed off. But he was stiff and moving a little more slowly today than he had the night before.

“Age starting to catch up with you, big guy?” Ben asked, flipping his computer monitor the bird before closing out his e-mail.

“I’m too old to be getting into bar fights on the weekends. I took three Motrin eight hundreds when I got home and I’m still in fucking pain.”

Ben smiled, glad the swelling had gone down in his lip. “I’m never getting as old and crusty as you.”

Sorren flipped him off. “Your lip looks better than it did last night.”

“I had it looked at.”

“Uh huh. And the person who did the looking didn’t happen to be the lawyer, did it?”

“Um…”

Sorren chuckled. It was the first time he’d ever heard his first sergeant laugh. “Sir, I could give a shit less what you do on your off time.”

“Ah, thanks?” Ben said. He wasn’t really certain of the direction of this conversation.

Sorren leaned forward, resting his elbows on both knees. “Look, the lawyer’s got her head screwed on straight and she’s helping move some of these packets along really fast.” Sorren paused. “I like her.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at his first sergeant. “Why do I feel like this conversation is about to get a whole lot more touchy feely?”

Sorren scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “Because despite yourself, I think you’re a hell of a lot better at this than you give yourself credit for. There aren’t too many officers who’ll show up to a bar fight and then not report it higher.”

Ben scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “Yeah, well, I’ve been in one too many incidents that weren’t reported higher. The guys were just blowing off steam. They deserve to have a good time while they’re home.”

“Yeah, well, not in this day and age. We need to keep the good ones out of trouble and the shitbirds need to get the fuck out of my army.” Sorren drummed his fingers on the back of the couch. “It pisses me off when these little assholes start running around, ruining what we stand for.”

“By getting into bar fights? I thought that was a time-honored tradition of soldiers everywhere.”

“It is.” Sorren sighed deeply. “I’m talking about the assholes who go out robbing and stealing and wreaking havoc that bring discredit to our uniform.” Sorren paused for a moment. “We have brothers and sisters who have died in these colors and if the soldiers don’t recognize that, then they don’t deserve the honor of wearing this uniform.”

“Some of these guys have been through some bad shit downrange,” Ben said quietly. The scar on his stomach itched.

“We’ve all been through some bad shit downrange, sir. We don’t all come home and freak the hell out.”

Ben pressed his lips together into a flat line, wincing when his still tender bottom lip protested the pressure. “Yeah. I know.”

Sorren said nothing and Ben appreciated his not piling on right then. Finally Sorren spoke. “We’ll do the article fifteens after lunch?”

Ben looked up sharply. “You already had them reviewed by legal?”

Sorren grinned. “I’m not above taking advantage of your relationship to fast-track certain things. I’d rather get this done early in the week so I don’t have sergeants supervising them over two weekends.”

Ben shook his head as his first sergeant left the office.

He needed to be careful. If Sorren had figured out something was going on between him and Olivia, someone else might, too. And while there were no rules against it, Sorren was right. He didn’t need to give anyone any reason to start looking into either of them.

* * *

Olivia’s blood was cold in her veins. She’d known this was coming. Had known for a few hours that the final paperwork on Escoberra was due in her inbox sometime that day.

Still, knowing it was coming was not the same thing as seeing it.

Two weeks of investigation came back with nothing. No ability to charge the man who’d put his daughter in the hospital. There was nothing she could do.

The scars on her sides ached with the absolute failure.

Another family was unprotected.

And there was nothing,
nothing
she could do about it. She’d thought she would be okay with it. That she trusted Ben’s intuition. But right then, looking at the cold reality in her hands, her emotions welled up, threatening to overwhelm her.

She swallowed the bitter frustration and gathered her paperwork before heading down to Gilliad’s office.

* * *

Olivia clenched her fist around her pen, refusing to lose the temper she held very tightly leashed as LTC Gilliad studied her carefully. She could not lose her shit in front of the battalion commander.

It had been a long time since Olivia had needed to work this hard to keep her temper in check. But not nearly long enough.

She stood silently while Gilliad read the paperwork she’d handed him.

Finally he looked up at her. “What does this mean, Major Hale?”

“Sir, it means that Child Protective Services are closing the case. Because his spouse refuses to testify against him and the children won’t either, I can’t recommend we proceed.” Her words were tight. Clipped. Controlled.

Her hands shook by her sides. Rage was a live thing inside her but it was the sadness that threatened to choke her. Her throat closed off with frustration.

“I see.” Gilliad steepled his fingers in front of him. “Is there anything we can do?”

Olivia sucked in a deep, hard breath and held it for a moment. “No, sir. We have to allow him to move on with his life.”

The words tightened in her throat. The scars on her side ached. She wanted to rail at the world and scream that it wasn’t fair.

But instead, she kept her composure. Breathed deeply through her nose. In and out. Slow and steady.

Gilliad was silent. “Have the personnel officer draw up the paperwork.” He tossed his glasses onto his desk.

“Roger, sir.”

Olivia turned to go, needing to get away from the office, from work, from the people around her who would shake their heads quietly and whisper that women shouldn’t be in the army if they saw her cry.

No one had believed a little girl named Olivia when she’d tried to report what was happening at home.

She closed her eyes, hearing the police officer’s hard words scraping against her once more. “You shouldn’t make things up,” he’d told her.

Her eyes filled with unshed tears. Frustration clawed at her. She got back to her office and shut the door behind her, needing her space, her solitude. Needed just a few minutes to keep herself from falling completely apart.

How could the case have fallen apart so badly? She’d made her peace with it. Damn it, it wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

She knew exactly. Everyone saw the war-weary soldier, the veteran begging apology, telling everyone he’d never hurt his daughter.

And
everyone
believed him, including the daughter he’d used his belt on.

She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes. No. No. No. Not again. Oh sweet Jesus not again.

There was a quiet tap on her door. Shit.

She swiped her fingers beneath her eyes and hoped they weren’t red from the pressure. She scrambled to her feet and straightened her uniform before opening the door.

Ben stood on the other side, packets in one hand. She met his gaze and his expression instantly hardened into concern.

He stepped into her office, closing the door behind him.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

She tried to back away. Tried to put a barrier between him and the wall of emotions threatening to crash over her. She held up her hand to keep him from approaching, trying to rein in her emotions. If he touched her, she was afraid she might shatter.

He collided with her palm and kept coming. He didn’t force her into his arms. Her arm simply collapsed and he was there. His strong arms around her. His chest a solid wall of living, breathing support.

She tried to stay strong.

She failed.

“We’re closing the Escoberra case,” she whispered.

She couldn’t fall apart. Not right then, no matter how good it felt to have his arms around her. To trust that she could lean against him and have someone stand with her.

“I’m sorry, Olivia.”

“No you’re not,” she said.

“Olivia.” His voice was thick. Tension radiated off him.

“Don’t. Don’t stand there and tell me you’re sorry when you’re not. You never believed he could do something like this.” She took a single step backward. “You win. Your boy walks free and you get to sleep at night.” She bit her lips together, needing the pain to keep the frustrated tears at bay. “Congratulations.”

He took a single step toward her.

“Don’t,” she hissed.

But he didn’t heed her warning. He took another step toward her until she was backed against her desk. The broken scale clanked loudly.

He rested his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Olivia.”

She covered her face with her hands and surrendered. She was so goddamned tired of fighting. She rested her forehead against his chest and let the emotions come. A gasp that was a mixture of sob and sorrow tore from her throat.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. His voice rumbled beneath her cheek. His arms tightened around her, his entire body stiff, radiating with anger. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and simply held her while she allowed the tears to leak out slowly. Because she still had to work the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

He’d never thought of her as vulnerable. Olivia had always been strong. Steadfast. He’d always admired her conviction, even if it terrified him and didn’t match up with what he wanted out of life.

But feeling her trembling in his arms right then broke his fucking heart. He wanted to destroy something. Do something. Anything to keep her from hurting like this.

He knew that image of Hailey had stayed on her mind. Even when she was trying to focus on something else, he’d catch her looking at Hailey’s picture in one of the files.

She believed protecting Hailey—girls like Hailey—was her purpose in life.

There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to fix things for her.

He felt so fucking useless. He wanted to fix it. To make her laugh or do something to take her mind off the pain trembling through her body.

Instead, he didn’t move. Didn’t release his hold on her. He simply held her and let her lean on him and whispered soothing nothings into her hair.

It was an eternity before she moved, easing back gently from his arms. Her eyes were a little pink, the tip of her nose a little red. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“Thanks for letting me fall apart.”

He didn’t fight the urge to brush his fingers over her cheek and push a slip of hair out of her eyes. “That wasn’t falling apart,” he said gently.

Her smile was sad. “It was for me.”

“I’d hate to show you what falling apart looks like for me then. It’s not pretty.”

Her smile spread a little. “Does it involve alcohol?”

“Mass quantities. And usually someone ends up throwing up.”

“By someone you mean you?”

He stroked his thumb over her cheek. It smeared the wetness there. “Tell me why this is so personal,” he whispered.

She looked away. “I can’t.”

He swallowed a bitter lump in his throat. “You can get naked with me but you can’t tell me something so simple?”

She closed her eyes, her expression pained. “It’s not that simple.”

He leaned into her, capturing her face with both hands. He kissed her then because he needed to. Needed her to anchor him to the feelings of goodness and kindness that he felt leaving his soul with each decision he made.

He kissed her and poured everything he couldn’t say, every comfort he wanted to give her, into that caress.

She leaned into him with a sigh, her fingers curling against the back of his neck. Her tongue slid against his and what was meant as a comfort turned abruptly passionate and hungry.

“It is that simple,” he said, and the sound of the bitterness in his own voice surprised even him. Her eyes widened briefly as he took a step back.

“It’s not a simple thing to take someone to bed, Olivia. And it’s not a simple thing to spend the night with someone. And yet, we’ve done both those things.” He breathed deeply. “I’ll be in my office when you’re ready to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

He walked away, unwilling, unable to stand there while she reconstructed the walls between them.

He refused to be shut out when she was so clearly hurting.

“Mom”?

“Why are you still up, Benjamin?” Her voice was cold, no hint of the tears he knew he’d heard. Even years after his father’s death, he thought he heard her sometimes and it shocked him every single time.

“Are you okay?” he asked from the doorway.

“I’m fine. You have your SATs tomorrow. Go to sleep.”

His mother had locked him out of her life after his dad died and his life had been cold and empty since. Until Olivia had come into his life, it had stayed that way.

And now? Now she was closing off, too, pulling away.

If Olivia was going to shut him out, he wasn’t going to stand there like a child, begging for her to open up to him.

No, he’d done that once before. Never again.

There was no victory in him for being right about Escoberra. It was tainted by the loss of something special with Olivia. Walking away was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

But he didn’t look back.