The Officer Breaks the Rules (14 page)

It was crazy, it was unexpected, and it was beyond adorable. Madison prayed she’d
still be so in love with her own husband in forty years. You know, if she ever found
one in the first place.

“It’s not even Mardi Gras time,” Madison pointed out, snuggling deeper in the bed,
pulling the covers up to her ears.

“That’s not the point. I haven’t seen the city yet, and so we’re going. Now, tell
me what is going on in your life. How are things at work?”

“Work’s good. I’m on the OB floor again.”

“Oh, your favorite! Are you still working with Matthew?”

She smiled. The first time her mother met Matthew, she’d been assured Madison would
marry him.
Best
friends
make
the
best
husbands,
she’d advised Madison wisely. But on the second visit, she clearly figured out Matthew
was not the man for her. “You know, I do believe he’s attracted to other men,” she’d
said, slightly mystified at the idea, though not put off by it.

Mothers. Intuitive only when they wanted to be.

“Yes, we’re still working together. I can’t shake him.”

“Good. I spoke to Tim the other day and he gave me Dwayne’s update, so I won’t keep
you awake any longer for that. We sent him a card the other day… I hope it doesn’t
get lost in the mail.”

“You know how things go over there. He’ll either get it in about five days or five
months.”

Her mother laughed softly. “True enough.” There was a pause, and Madison could hear
the whine of the RV engine, the sound of some country song playing, and her father
humming along. “Madison, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

She straightened a little in bed, then shifted to stare at the ceiling. One hand crept
up to nervously twirl the end of a damp lock of hair. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You just sound a little… out of sorts. That’s all. Do you want us to swing over?
It’s a bit of a drive, but I can always change my choice from New Orleans to—”

“No.” She said it a little sharper than necessary and winced. “No,” she tried again,
more calmly. “I’m fine; please don’t derail plans for me. I’m just really tired. Long
shift, you know. And I didn’t sleep well the night before.”
What
with
all
that
sex
I
was
having. Really cuts into a girl’s beauty sleep.

“All right, then,” her mother said, sounding less than convinced. “But you know we’re
always willing to come for a visit. Always.”

Madison’s body relaxed a little again. “I know. Thanks, Mommy.”

Her mother chuckled. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

“I’m in bed, I’m sleepy, and my mom’s voice is in my ear. I think I regressed momentarily.”

“I miss it sometimes. Of course, these days I’m more looking forward to the Nana stage.
When do you think Tim and Skye will—”

Madison yawned loudly and exaggeratedly. “Oh wow, Mom. I think I just hit a wall.
I should probably turn in now while I have the chance.”

“Oh. Well, okay then. I love you.”

Only a little guilty for cutting their convo short, Madison said, “I love you too,
Mom.” They hung up, and Madison let her phone drop to the bed beside her. Then she
smoothed a hand over the extra pillow next to hers.

Cool. Unused. Unneeded.

Not for long. She’d had a taste of what nights with Jeremy could be like, and she’d
be damned if she would give it up so quickly. Even if Jeremy thought he would get
away with it.

***

Jeremy sat back, rubbed tired eyes, and stared at the clock on the wall. Calculated.
And realized he had approximately seven minutes to slip into his cammies, grab breakfast,
and head to the office if he was going to show up at a respectable time.

And he hadn’t slept at all. Not even an extended blink. Something, a singularly fantastic
plot idea, grabbed him by the throat the moment he’d walked through the door, and
he barely moved from his computer since. He’d meant to just make a quick note for
later. Instead, he’d kept going, and going and going, until the real world drifted
away and the only thing that existed for him was the fictional world, the characters,
their plights.

On the plus side, he was nearly done with the rough draft of the book. On the negative…
he was about to fall on his face with exhaustion.

Debating for a few moments, he realized he had a choice. And for once, he was going
to do what made him more happy. He might not get the chance often, and it might be
a small step, but today, he was going to indulge it. He picked up the phone and called
Tim.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Not coming in today.” He sighed, hoping to sound sorry. “Just not feeling great.”

“Ah.” Tim was silent for a moment. “Yeah, no problem. It’s Friday anyway; most people
are going to be leaving early. You didn’t have anything on your calendar, did you?”

“Nope.” He coughed once, then realized that was taking it a little too far. “The only
thing I had left for the week is a Fit Rep, but I can finish that up here and email
it in.”

“Sounds good. I’ll let Blackwater know.”

“I’ll shoot him an email too, but thanks for telling him in person.” Jeremy hung up,
then quickly dashed off an email to the CO explaining he wouldn’t be in that day and
a note about the Fit Rep, so the man didn’t think he’d forgotten.

After another fifteen minutes to concentrate on finishing the last Fit Rep he’d started
the day before, he sent that off as well, then stumbled to bed. The moment his head
hit the pillow, he was inundated with Madison.

Her smell still clung to the sheets, which his lazy ass hadn’t changed yet. Or maybe
not lazy so much as reluctant to remove the memory. And even though he was to-the-bone
tired, even though he wanted to curl up and die for a good eight hours, he did something
he knew he’d regret later.

He picked up the phone and called her.

“’Lo?” her raspy voice answered. It was thick with sleep, and completely sexy. He
hardened instantly.

“Hey. You sleeping?”

“Jeremy?” There was a pause, and he imagined her pulling the phone away to check the
screen. “What are you doing calling? Are you at the office?”

“I’m playing hooky. What are you doing?”

“Catching up on shut-eye. I got home around six in the morning.” Her voice was tinged
with irony, since she likely knew he was well aware what she’d be doing at this time.

Jeremy checked the clock. She’d been sleeping for a good two hours. “I’m taking the
day off. Need to get some rest myself. But I can’t sleep.”

“Did you call for a bedtime story? I gotta tell you, I’m rusty on my Mother Goose.”
He heard rustling and a creak, as if she were shifting around in bed.

“I was hoping for some company for the day. That is, if you’re free and don’t have
any plans.”
Say
you
have
plans. No, don’t say that. Say you’re coming over. Oh, fuck it. I don’t even know
what I want.

A long pause. Long enough for him to check the phone to make sure they weren’t disconnected.

“Jeremy, are you asking me to come over there for a nap?”

Well, eventually he wouldn’t mind a more physical way to pass the time, but for the
moment… “Yeah. I guess I am.”

She was quiet again, then a soft, “Okay,” was her only reply before she hung up.

He set the phone down on his nightstand.
Getting
in
deep, Phillips.

He could swim. It would be fine. Simple. Casual. Completely nonchalant.

Complete bullshit.

***

Madison drove up to the apartment complex and killed the engine. After only two hours
of sleep, when Jeremy had called the thought of not coming over had been a very strong
one. Damn, she was tired, and even the momentary thought of amazing, sweaty, burning
up the sheets sex with Jeremy couldn’t rouse her from bed. But the moment he asked
her to come over specifically for a nap, she knew she was a goner. How could she turn
that down?

So she drove over carefully, taking as many back roads as she could. She was relieved
when she reached her destination. It was almost like driving with a hangover. Not
drunk, but definitely not at her peak either. Grabbing her tote bag, she stumbled
out of the car, up the stairs, and knocked on the door. When she heard nothing on
the other side of the door to indicate he was on his way, she tried the knob. Unlocked.
She shook her head at the lack of precaution, then slipped inside and shut the door
behind her. And this time, she locked the dang thing.

He wasn’t on the couch, or at his computer desk. Which meant there was only one other
place he could be. She turned the corner and found him facedown in bed, still fully
dressed in a polo shirt, jeans, and his tan combat boots. Likely the exact same thing
he wore on his way home from work the night before. She sighed, shook her head again
in disbelief, and started unlacing his boots.

“Bedtime story my ass,” she grumbled as she jerked at the laces. “Needs a keeper,
that’s what he needs. Probably stayed up all night doing God knows what.”

Jeremy’s only response was a light snore. She couldn’t hold back the chuckle. One
boot, then the other fell to the floor. She stepped back, hands on her hips, and estimated
how hard it would be to at least get his jeans off.

“Nope. Not even going to try. That’s your problem.” She shoved at his shoulders until
he rolled to his side, then crawled in beside him. Without her holding him up, he
slumped back over against her, his chest heavy behind her back.

The dead weight of his body forced air from her lungs. But she wiggled just a little
and made it work. Much as she hated to admit it, independent female such as she was,
the simple fact that his warm body was next to her made her smile. Not that she’d
enjoyed having to play nursemaid first. But when he shifted, mumbled something completely
incoherent, and draped one heavy arm around her waist, she closed her eyes on a happy
sigh.

He might not know it, might not want to admit it. But Madison was sure that at least
subconsciously he wanted to make room for her. And not just in his bed.

The thundering drums of a pulsing headache were Jeremy’s first link to the world of
the conscious. Then came the lights, much too bright for the middle of the night,
burning his eyes through his closed eyelids. Who the hell was shining a goddamn light
in his face?

Jeremy shifted, moaned, and covered his face with one hand. The other hand, it seemed,
was stuck somehow. He took the chance and peeked with one eye to see what situation
he’d gotten himself into.

First he noticed a very delicious pair of breasts pressing into his chest. Hard to
miss those. Not to mention the rest of the body they were attached to, suctioned to
the side of his body, his arm tucked under her. Turning his head to the side just
a tad, he saw a mop of brown hair and realized it was Madison.

Of
course
it’s Madison, dipshit. Who the hell else would it be?

He angled his head just a little farther and checked the clock. Almost noon. Damn,
so not the middle of the night. More like middle of the day. Right. He took the day
off, and Madison was working nights.

It came back to him then, his pitiful phone call to her hours earlier. He shook his
head gently, trying to clear the last of the sleep from his mind. What was his point
of calling her again? Come take a nap with him? How childish could he be? What, should
he wake her up and offer her a juice box and a snack?

Madison groaned and snuggled deeper into the covers and his own warmth.

Okay. So napping wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Except for the fact that he was
hard as a rock and she looked like she had another four hours of sleep left in her.
Not the best situation ever, but he’d survive.

Or did he have to? She came over here on her own. Maybe she wouldn’t mind a gentle
wake-up call.

Slowly, he rubbed his hand over her back, smiling when she arched and made what sounded
like a purr in the back of her throat. Taking the risk, he smoothed the other hand
down her ribs, brushing the sides of her breast, over her hip.

Instinctively her body moved into his, following his movements, not wanting to lose
contact. Yeah. She wouldn’t mind the post-nap activity he planned at all.

He inched the sweatshirt up her stomach, pausing at the band of a sports bra. Not
your easy front-clasp dainty number. But he’d work on it. She shivered as the cool
air of the room hit her torso and went to grab for the covers to yank them up. He
stayed her hand, rolling and pulling her under him. She smiled, a dreamy tilt of her
lips, and he hardened all over again. Damn, she was beautiful. Even with the faint
shadows under her eyes, her hair in some messy top knot, her face completely free
of makeup. She’d always been perfect to him.

“Madison,” he whispered.

She didn’t respond.

He inched the sweatshirt up and over her head, not an easy feat when working with
dead weight. But she didn’t even blink. Just snuggled back into the pillow and looked
like she would slip back down into another nice, deep REM cycle.

“Madison,” he tried again softly.

This time, he skimmed a hand down her rib cage until he hit the waistband of the sweats
she wore. A little wiggling, some more maneuvers, and he slid them down her legs until
they disappeared off the end of the bed. Clad in the gray sports bra and simple white
cotton panties, completely lax in sleep, she revved his blood more than lace lingerie
and a practiced pose ever could have done. That wouldn’t be Madison. She was simple,
unaffected. Beautiful.

And God, he wanted her.

Kissing his way up her leg, pausing at her knee where he knew she was ticklish, she
shifted but didn’t say a word. “Mad. Wake up, honey.”

Nothing. Guilt started to chew at him. Maybe she needed the sleep more than he realized.
Was he being a selfish asshole to wake her up so soon after asking her to drive over
on two hours of sleep?

Maybe. But he was accustomed to being an asshole. Par for the course. And he needed
her now like he couldn’t believe.

“I seriously hope you aren’t stopping there.”

His head snapped up, eyes finding hers in the harsh noon light. She smiled slightly.
“Yes. I’m awake. I have been for a while. You’re like the eighth dwarf, Clumsy. You
really think you could have gotten that sweatshirt over my head without some help?
Please.”

He rolled his eyes and gave her a healthy bite on the inner thigh. She squealed and
tried to wriggle away, but he pinned her. “Brat. You could have made it easier.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she teased. Then with a more serious light in her eyes,
she reached down to frame his face with her hands. “It was nice, waking up to you.”
Something stern entered her gaze. “I wouldn’t have minded waking up with you the other
day either. But someone made a quick escape.”

To distract as much as to please, he hooked a finger under the edge of her panties
and stroked her once. “I’m here now. You up for some fun?”

“Aren’t I always? Fun is my middle name.”

“I thought your middle name was Ann.” He grinned at her, and she started to open her
mouth—likely to give him another sassy answer—but he flicked his fingers up and through
her wet heat, and she snapped it shut again.

“Ah. Maybe fun is your middle name. Madison Fun O’Shay. Has a nice ring to it.” He
did it again, finding that one bundle of nerves and massaging it the way he knew she
liked. She squirmed under him, unable to stay still, unable to do much of anything
but give in to him.

His favorite.

“Take them off,” she moaned, one hand coming down to push at the elastic of her underwear.
“Off now.”

“No.” She gave him a mutinous look and tried again to push them down herself, but
he caught her wrist with his hand. “My show. I’m running it. Lie back and enjoy it.”

If looks could shoot, he’d have a chest full of lead.

She needed to hear it more often. The word no. She was too strong, too used to doing
things her way.

He could handle that. Handle her. And it stung to realize just how badly he wanted
to handle her… for as long as he could.

Which wouldn’t happen. So he had to focus on the moment and enjoy it while he could.

Using his thumb to keep tight circles going, he slid two fingers into her, curling
around to hit the right spot. She hissed and raised her hips, and he knew he’d struck
gold.

“Jer—please, Jeremy,” she panted, moving her hips in the opposite direction of his
hand, as if strengthening the connection.

Because he knew she needed it—and hell, he needed it too—he quickened the pace until
she imploded around him, clawing at the sheets, screwing her eyes tight, and parting
her lips on a silent cry.

God, there was nothing sexier than Madison Ann O’Shay in the middle of an orgasm.
Nothing. He quickly removed her panties and kissed his way up her stomach, over her
ribs until he got to the utilitarian gray sports bra.

“Sexy,” he murmured, toying with the elastic band that rode just under her breasts.

“Shut up. I fell asleep naked after work and grabbed the first things to put on before
driving here,” she grumbled but smiled. Her eyes were still shut, as if it took too
much effort to open them.

“You sleep naked at home?” He placed a hand over his heart. “Thank God I didn’t know
about this before. I would have never slept then.”

“Be nice, or I won’t show you the rest of my sports bra collection.”

“I was being serious. I don’t mind a little cuteness now and then. But this is you.
And I like you. Pure Madison.” He caught one puckered nipple between his teeth, the
cotton providing a small barrier to the sting he knew she’d feel.

Her hands came to the back of his head, nails scratching his scalp through what little
hair he had. God, he wished he had more for her to run her fingers through. She held
him to her, then uttered a small, inventive curse when he let go long enough to move
to the other breast and repeat the process.

One hand lifted the elastic over her first breast so he could thumb her nipple, roll
it. She arched into him, her hips thrusting up against his thigh, helping herself
along. Always impatient, he thought with a smile. But he was growing as impatient
as her. Damn, she made him about as edgy as a teenager on his first big score. Where
the hell was his control?

“Off. Off, off, off,” she muttered as she ripped the sports bra over her head and
flung it God knows where. He heard a small crash and figured that was either a lamp
or a glass. Who cared? He was too mesmerized by the sight of her breasts, finally
unbound, completely open to him. The elastic of the bra had left slight red lines
on her skin, and he traced them with a finger, then his tongue. Madison shivered and
he smiled. So he could do something right after all.

“Jeremy, I swear if you don’t get your clothes off and get inside me in a minute or
less, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“That would be a serious pity.” Because he was as bad as she was, he took a step off
the bed to remove his clothes. Then he realized he was standing in his socks, not
his boots. “Where the hell did my boots go?”

She grinned. “I took them off. You were passed out facedown on the bed. It looked
uncomfortable, so I fixed it.”

Such a small, insignificant little thing, but it made him warm inside that she cared
enough to make the effort when she’d been exhausted herself. “Thanks.” He stripped
in record time, reminiscent of the OCS days when he’d had five minutes or less to
shower. Effective stripping had been a lifesaver then. Just like now.

A quick reach into the nightstand produced protection, and he was ready to roll. Literally,
figuratively, all of the above.

He crawled over, something under his skin warming further when she simply relaxed
into the mattress and reached her arms up for him in welcome. It was quite a sight,
one he would remember as long as he could. Hooking his right elbow under her left
knee, he positioned himself and thrust in quickly, leaving them both breathless.

“Oh my God,” she finally whispered.

With one leg angled up, the new depth he could reach was perfection. Rolling his hips
clockwise, he smiled. “Yeah.”

Savoring the closeness, the absolute feeling of completeness for another minute, he
pulled back and thrust more carefully the second time, then a third. Until he developed
a rhythm that built them up without pushing them over the edge.

Madison’s jaw clenched. “You’re holding back.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t deny it. “Better that way.”

“For who?”

“Us.”

That word, with Madison, was more than he ever hoped to be able to say, even temporarily.

“Jeremy. Please, touch me.” She pushed at his left shoulder, and he shifted until
he could reach between them and find her swollen clit, brushing against it gently.

But it was enough, and she surged up against him as much as she could with one leg
hooked around his arm. She cried out his name—another memory for when it was over—and
pulled him along with her into his own climax.

***

Madison drew patterns down his arm, wondering how to keep the moment intimate. How
to keep him from pulling away again. “You never got inked.”

“Hmm? Ink?” He didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe, he was so still. The sound came
from the back of his throat. She traced up and over his Adam’s apple with her finger,
barely skimming the surface of his skin. He swallowed in response.

“I think you’re like in the one percent of Marines without a single tattoo.”

“Ah. Yeah.” He cracked one eye open. “I came close, several times. Usually right after
a deployment. Nothing like your boots hitting American soil after facing down war
to make you feel invincible and want to record the moment with some permanent reminder.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shrugged. “Never found anything I was willing to live with the rest of my life.”

“Not even the EGA?”

The Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. Marine Corps insignia. And a tattoo staple among jarheads.
Some of the most common ink art, aside from the words “Semper Fi” in the Corps. Day
in and out, she saw one form of artistic dedication to the military or another on
the men and women she treated at the hospital.

After a moment of silence, she rolled onto his stomach so they were face to face,
then kissed each of his arms. “Well, you look pretty good without all the decoration
anyway, so I think you’re okay.”

“How sweet.” He stroked a hand down her spine, and she melted into him almost automatically.
What she wouldn’t give to be able to stay like this forever. Or at least the next
day or two straight. Eventually they’d have to leave the cave for sustenance, after
all.

“Madison, you know this thing…” He drifted off.

She tilted her head up, but all she could see was his chin. “Are you looking for the
word ‘affair,’ by any chance?”

He paused, then nodded. “That works. It’s temporary. You know that, right?”

So
you
think.
“Hmm,” she said, burrowing closer, breathing in the clean scent of his skin.

“Because it wouldn’t work out in the end, you know. You want to stay in the Navy,
and I’m in the Marines, and that’s just too much right there. Not to mention, I’m
pretty sure Tim would skin me alive.”

She rolled her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows to look down at him. “I’m
a grown woman now. My brother doesn’t control who I date.”

He lifted a brow.

“Okay, so he’s vocal,” she conceded. “And he thinks he has some sort of say in it.
And I appreciate his opinion… most of the time. But when push comes to shove, I’m
the one calling the shots in my life. Dating and otherwise. Besides, you’re his best
friend. Would he be friends with you if you were a jerk?”

“I am a jerk,” he said sardonically.

“No, you act like a jerk… sometimes. There’s a difference. You’re not actually a jerk.”

“More fool you.”