The Officer Breaks the Rules (8 page)

“Of course she’s good enough,” he snapped, then grumbled to himself.

Matthew nodded. “More than good enough, that’s for damn sure. Here’s the thing. I’m
not moving in, so you can stop staring at me like you want to rip my arms off and
beat me to death with them. But I’m not the only male on this base, in this city,
or in this state. And one of these days, someone else will see her, want her, and
not just as a friend, like I do.”

Jeremy stared for a moment. Was he really having this conversation? “Anyone tell you
you talk too much?”

Matthew laughed, not at all offended. “Madison does, on an almost daily basis. And
here she is.” He stood as Madison poked her head back in.

“I do what?” Madison asked, confusion written all over her face.

“Tell me I talk too much,” he replied easily. None of the heavy subject they’d just
discussed was evident in his posture or tone. The guy was good.

“Oh. Well, it’s true. Your cell wasn’t in the car. Skye says we can have her key to
go run back over and check.”

He gave her a sheepish grin that Jeremy saw right through, then dug in his pocket
and held up his phone. “Sorry, babe. I forgot I put it in a different pocket. My bad.”

She blew him a raspberry and disappeared again.

Matthew stood and clapped a hand over Jeremy’s shoulder. Clearly, the past five minutes
had done a lot to help out Jeremy’s feeling about the guy because he didn’t immediately
want to punch him for it.

“Just think about what I said. I know she’s important to you. But you gotta work your
own shit out, it seems, and figure that out on your own.”

And then he walked out of the room, leaving Jeremy to wonder how long he had before
another guy just like Matthew walked into her life and didn’t hold back.

***

Madison stretched and rolled her neck to one side. Lord, the crick in her neck was
unreal.

“Are you sure glasses should go here?” Skye asked.

“Yes, by the fridge makes the most sense.” Veronica nodded firmly.

“I just think over by the sink would be so much easier for you. Why don’t we—”

“Skye,” Madison murmured.

Skye looked up from collecting glasses and into Veronica’s resolute face. “Whoops.
I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” She set the glasses back down and held up her hands.
“Your place, your choice.”

Veronica gave her a quick hug. “I know you just want to help. I’m not upset.”

Skye smiled as Veronica went to work shelving the cups. “That’s definitely new. When
you moved in here, you didn’t care what I did with your kitchen.”

Madison shrugged and hopped up on the counter. “Long as everything is in here somehow,
I don’t really care.” But Veronica did. Which was why she’d asked for permission to
rearrange a few things, just to make sure it all fit, she insisted. What Madison knew
she was leaving out was the part where the kitchen was a disorganized clusterfuck.
But Veronica was way too polite to point that out.

“Is Jeremy still setting up the bed?” Skye asked a moment later. “I thought he would
be done by now.”

Madison shrugged, but she didn’t want to admit it made her nervous, how long he and
Matthew had been back there together. No sounds of breaking furniture or death screams,
so she assumed everyone was still alive. But Matthew had a big mouth. God only knew
what he was saying.

Skye reached in a big shopping bag and brought out some sort of appliance and set
it on the counter. “And here’s the panini maker you bought. Where should it go?”

Veronica beamed and grabbed the appliance. “I know exactly where.”

“Do we seriously need a panini maker? Isn’t that why God invented Panera and those
awesome people who slice your bagels and make the sandwiches?”

Skye and Veronica stared at her like she’d just insisted they all strip off their
clothes and go skinny-dipping in the complex pool.

“It’s a panini maker,” Skye said slowly. “They’re delicious.”

“Uh-huh.” If she couldn’t put boxed brownie batter in it and bake it, or scramble
eggs in it, she didn’t really see the point. But she was saved from admitting so when
someone knocked on the door. She hurried over to get it, using the cash Matthew had
left her to pay the delivery boy, and brought the pizza back to the kitchen.

At least this was something she could do. Using a pizza cutter—the most well-used
item in her kitchen—she separated the slices onto a plate.

“Madison.” Skye sighed. “Paper plates?”

“Putting takeout on real plates is like a crime against nature. Boys!” she called.
“Pizza’s here!”

Matthew showed up a moment later, as if already sensing the food was in the general
vicinity. Which he likely did. The man ate more than a Holstein heifer and never gained
an ounce.

Madison, on the other hand, would be out running tonight to combat the calories. Damn
men and their metabolisms.

“Cool.” He grabbed a hot slice from the box before she’d had a chance to cut through
it completely and stuffed it in his mouth. Then Madison watched as the pleasure morphed
into pain and he grabbed a bottle of water and chugged. “Hot. Fucking hot!”

She shrugged and patted his chest. “If you weren’t such a pig, I’d have told you that
before you bit in. But there you went, following your stomach again like Toucan Sam.”

“That’s follow your nose,” he shot back, but with a grin.

“Who is Toucan Sam?” Veronica asked as she brought over plates.

They both stared at her in openmouthed shock. Finally, Madison said, “The bird guy
from the Froot Loops commercial when we were kids?”

She blinked a few times like an owl, then laughed. “Oh. Right. The commercial. Of
course. I just had one of those…” She snapped her fingers and waved by her head. “You
know, where your brain blanks.”

“Brain fart?” Matthew offered helpfully.

She smiled. “That. Only if there’s a less gross version, then that’s what I had.”

Matthew laughed. “You’re a riot.” He leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek.
Veronica danced away easily, keeping the plates between them, eyes focused on the
fridge as if she hadn’t noticed him bending over. Anyone else catching the movement
out of the corner of their eye wouldn’t have noticed at all. But Madison did. It hadn’t
been lost on her that men in general seemed to make her roommate wary, even one as
harmless as Matthew. At least until she came to know them better.

Jeremy walked in at that moment, staring between all of them. “So, what’s the deal?”

Madison handed him a plate with green veggies coating the slice of pizza. “Got your
favorite.”

He stared down and sneered at it. “It’s got vegetables on it.”

“It’s healthy.”

“It’s a salad.”

“It’s mine.” Skye nipped between them and stole the plate. Then she threaded her arm
through Veronica’s and walked her back over to the living room couch. “Let’s sit down
and relax. We’ve earned it.”

Jeremy reached around Madison, his arm brushing hers for just a moment. And she held
her breath, too afraid to relax and fall into him just a little more and startle him
off.

That just about summed up her life perfectly. Afraid to breathe and scare Jeremy away.

Jeremy gave Matthew a look. “Staying for pizza?”

Matthew smiled back. “Sure am.”

Jeremy nodded and followed in Skye and Veronica’s wake.

“Well.” Madison lifted out a piece of pizza for herself and put it on a plate. No
sense in giving Matthew one. He was raised by wolves, after all. “You two seem chummy
all of a sudden.”

“Isn’t that why you invited me over?” Matthew blinked innocently at her.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. But he didn’t take offense. Just leaned over and gave her
the kiss Veronica shied away from.

“I know, I know. Look, we’re cool. He’s a good guy. And he didn’t offer to rearrange
my teeth, which I appreciate greatly. So I think my work here is done. Leave him guessing.”

“You’re leaving? You just said you were staying.” Sure, her intentions might not have
been pure in having Matthew over to begin with, but she did love hanging out with
him outside of work. “We don’t see each other much anymore, I feel like.”

“I know. But I was just messin’ with him.” He winked at her. “Got a hot date.”

“Ah, anyone I know?”

“Nope. He’s new.” He gave her another kiss, then headed out of the kitchen. Calling
a brief good-bye to the rest of the gang, he let himself out.

Madison took her pizza into the living room and sat on the floor next to Skye.

“He left so soon,” Skye said, disappointed.

“Yeah, he had things to do.” Madison took a bite and let the delicious melty-cheese
goodness engulf her taste buds. Then fought with a stringy bit that hung off her lip.
As her tongue worked to get the rogue string of cheese into her mouth, she glanced
up and saw Jeremy watching her.

Or, rather, her mouth. And not in the horrified,
can’t you eat pizza correctly?
sort of way. But the hungry,
I
want
to
eat
more
than
pizza
sort of way.

The way that had her entire body reacting until she crossed her arms over her chest
to hide her hardening nipples.

And she realized the time for playing coy had reached its end. She gave him her best
look right back.

The one that said
you’re invited to dine anytime.

He left. He just left. Madison tossed the last plate into the garbage can with flourish.

She’d given him her best version of come hither and he’d still balked. Stumbled out
the door and off on his motorcycle into the night.

Damn him.

She was losing ground, it felt like. And it couldn’t continue. But first, she knew
she had some ground to make up… in the gym.

With no better way to expend the pent up frustration clenching her muscles—plus the
memory of the pizza she’d inhaled—she changed into a moisture-wicking tank, and her
running shorts and running shoes, and slipped her apartment key into the hidden mesh
pocket on the inside of the waistband of her shorts. Veronica was off to a movie,
and she wasn’t going to leave the door unlocked. Then, feeling a little better already,
she popped her iPod earbuds in her ears and skipped down her apartment steps and two
buildings over to the twenty-four-hour gym. Yet another amenity that made her choose
this complex.

It was almost empty, minus one guy using the rowing machine. Most people had better
things to do on a Saturday night than work out. Madison couldn’t blame them. She’d
prefer a different sort of cardio workout herself. A more horizontal one, one that
included a partner. But alas, not tonight. She turned on her iPod and clicked for
the songs to shuffle. After a quick stretch, she hopped on the treadmill and set a
comfortable pace for three miles. Checking the time at a mile and a half—the distance
she had to run for her semi-annual Physical Readiness Test, or PRT—she smiled at her
good pace and kept pushing, working off the pizza before it had a chance to take residence
on her butt.

Calories were sneaky that way.

As she completed her third mile, she grabbed one of the towels by the door and patted
her face and chest dry, then lay down on the bench used for weights and lowered the
volume on her iPod. From the corner of her eye, she caught her fellow Saturday night
gym user walking toward the door, dropping his used towel in the basket. Finally,
the place to herself. Using the overhead bar, she stretched out her arms and then
relaxed, concentrating on her breathing pattern.

She sensed more than saw someone new in the gym, and she lowered the sound on her
iPod in response. At least until she saw who it was and judged them.

“We need to talk.”

Oh, hell. She fought the urge to turn the sound back up—childish, she knew—and sat
up slowly, engaging her ab muscles along the way. “How did you get in here, Jeremy?
The door shut behind me and it’s keypad locked.”

He rounded the bench and stood in front of her, black leather jacket still on, helmet
tucked under one arm. Aw, damn. Why did he have to still be wearing the jacket? And
carrying the helmet? Her instincts struggled hardcore against the desire rolling low
in her belly. Some people looked flat-out ridiculous when they rode a bike or wore
the clothes, like posers trying to play James Dean. Jeremy just looked… right.

Jeremy pointed to his ears. “You wanna take those out?”

She held up the iPod. “The sound’s off.” But habit had her removing the earbuds anyway.
“So you got in here how, again?”

“The guy who just left held the door for me. Nice security. You should warn the managers
to send a notice to the residents not to let people in behind them like that. It’s
begging for something to happen.”

She shrugged and pulled the material of her tank away from her stomach to air out
the hot skin a little. Not that it did much good. The heat she was feeling was definitely
coming from inside. “You have a point. I can always mention it to management. So that
answers how you got in here. Now for the why.”

He laughed harshly and dropped down to the incline bench in front of her, legs splayed
out wide, helmet in his lap. “Fuck if I know.” He stared out the large window of the
door, as if the inky black night sky was going to give him the secret to his thought
process.

She dragged the towel back over her face once more and then tossed it on the ground
before standing up to shift weights. “If you’re just going to stand there, could you
at least spot me on some bench presses before going?”

His eyes widened a little before he shrugged and stood to help her remove the forty-five-pound
plates some inconsiderate jerk had left on before she got there and replaced them
with twenty-fives, one on each side. “Can you handle this much?”

She could. Relatively comfortably. But because she was annoyed at his tone, she added
another five-pounder on her side, watching him skeptically add one to his as well.
“Just spot. It doesn’t require you to talk. Lucky for you, since you never seem to
do it well.”

She sat down, adjusted where her butt hit, and then stretched out under the bar. Thanks
to her short arms, she needed help unracking the bar, but from there, she gave him
credit. He didn’t try to hold on longer than necessary to ensure she had her grip.
Which would have really sucked if she’d added another fifteen on each side, rather
than the five she stuck with.

Controlling her breathing, she looked up only for a moment and realized that at this
angle, Jeremy’s crotch was right next to her face. A hip-thrust away from touching.
And there was no mistaking, even upside down, the fact that he had a major pop-up
tent going behind that zipper.

The weights shifted ever so slightly, and she knew if she didn’t pull her head out
of her ass and concentrate on the task at hand, she’d hurt someone. Likely herself.

Sensing the shift, Jeremy’s hand went next to hers to stabilize. “You okay? You got
it?”

“Yeah.” She blew out a breath, blanked her mind, and went for twelve reps, struggling
a little on the last push. But she did it, and when he lifted to help her rack the
bar, she managed to keep her arms from wavering.

“Not too bad, squirt.”

She sat up, forgetting for a moment she wasn’t even close to done with her normal
three sets. “Why do you call me that?”

“Squirt?” He shrugged and propped one booted foot on the supporting bar below the
bench, arms draped casually over the weights. “Tim does.”

“Tim’s my brother.”

His face darkened a little. “Yeah. He is. And maybe the reminder’s good for both of
us.”

“For you,” she shot back. “I don’t give a damn about him being my brother.” Okay,
that came out wrong, but in the context it made sense so she didn’t take it back.

Clearly, Jeremy knew what she meant. “Mad, it matters. It just does.”

“Uh-huh. I can see that.” She didn’t look down, but even from the corner of her eye,
she could tell his tent was still popped. Big time. No hiding it.

He did glance down, and then shrugged. “So? You’re female; I’m a guy. You’re in skintight
clothes. It happens.” The way his mouth pulled tight told a completely different story.

“Right. Okay then. You sure told me. My mistake.” Madison lay back down, but facing
the opposite direction, so her feet were under the bar. “I guess if that’s just the
end of it, then there’s not much more I can do about the whole thing, is there?”

“No.”

“You can go; you don’t have to stay.” When he didn’t move, she said something she
wished she could take back immediately after she said it.

“I can always call Matthew for company.”

Quick as lightning, so fast she never had a chance to anticipate his intentions, Jeremy
was over her in an instant. Covering her body from chest to knee. His torso rested
heavily on hers, pressing into her breasts. One knee was propped between her thighs
on the bench, his other leg down on the ground to keep him balanced.

“Call Matthew? You have to be shitting me.”

She said it. Now she had to own it. “He’s a good friend. And we have fun hanging out.
Plus, he likes working out, and he’d be fine spotting me.” All true. Though once again,
context mattered.

“He doesn’t want you. He told me himself.”

Matthew. What the hell? Worst. Beard. Ever.

“So what?” She thrust her chin out, defiant even in her vulnerable physical—and emotional—position.
“I’m used to it by now. Men not wanting me.”

Pressing his hips down, there was no mistaking the hard erection nudging against her
hip. “This. Does this feel like not wanting you?”

“I—I don’t know.” God, how was she supposed to think when he did that?

His mouth found her pulse below her jaw. One hand skimmed up her ribs to cup her tank-covered
breast. “How about this?”

“Not sure.” Her voice was unsteady. “Maybe you should try it again.”

Jeremy’s knee brushed right against her core, now damp with longing and an inability
to deny how much she lusted after the man right on top of her. “And that?”

“I…” All thoughts of even trying to come up with something to say fled when he dragged
his mouth over hers and stole her breath with a kiss that rocked her.

Rocked her to the core.

Without hesitation, as if they’d been doing this for years, her arms wrapped around
him, bringing him even closer, if it was possible. Keeping him there. Not letting
him go. Not giving him the chance to put anything more between them.

“Jer… Jeremy.” Her breath was coming too fast. Too hard. She was going to black out
if she didn’t get herself under control.

As if sensing she needed a minute to breathe, he skimmed his lips up over her nose,
brushing lightly against her eyelids, over her brows, down her cheek to rest below
her ear while his leg met her center in a rhythm that would have been way more fun
without all the denim and nylon and spandex between them.

His knee and thigh rubbed against her, making her shudder without even trying. The
man didn’t even have to freaking try and she was melting for him. Some small part
of her brain was a little ashamed of that.

But not ashamed enough to stop what felt so freaking good.

“Madison. God. God dammit.” His teeth scraped against her lobe, breath hot on her
neck. “Don’t tell me I don’t want you.”

She couldn’t answer, just hummed in response.

“That’s never been the problem. Never.”

Don’t talk about problems. Not now. Not ever. Just keep doing that thing with your—

She gasped, shuddered. But she didn’t want her first climax with Jeremy to end like
this. Not by herself, not without him even making the effort. It was almost like cheating
the moment. As if realizing she was on the edge of some cliff she couldn’t push herself
over, Jeremy reached down with one hand and rubbed, just briefly, against the front
of her shorts.

And she spiraled down the dark cavern into a pool of bliss, not even caring that she
was coming in a public gym, where anyone could walk in at any time.

While her heartbeat returned to something that didn’t resemble cardiac arrest, she
shifted just a little to let him know he was heavy. But she didn’t speak. Didn’t want
to burst the bubble of intimacy—however fleeting it might be—that surrounded them
in the quiet, dark gym.

The door opened, and a guy in his twenties walked in, only to freeze and stare at
them with mild horror. “Dudes. That’s gross. Get a room, but wipe down the bench first.”

One bubble bursting, coming right up.

Madison gasped and turned to hide her face in Jeremy’s shoulder. But he took that
moment to launch himself off of her body, and she went rolling from the bench to landing
on the floor mat instead with a thud. Her shoulder jarred, and it took two tries to
get her breath back, but it didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ.” Jeremy kneeled down beside her and shoved until she was on her back.
“Mad, talk to me. You okay?”

The sound of the door closing filled her with relief.

Madison groaned and covered her eyes with one forearm. “I might die of embarrassment.
But yes, I’m fine.” Sort of.

Did the word “fine” include instances where she just climaxed from dry humping like
a fifteen-year-old?

Jeremy took her shoulders and helped her sit up until her back rested against the
bench. “Sure you’re okay?”

She waved off his hands. “Yup. Not one of my finest moments, but I’ll live.”

Jeremy seemed to believe her this time and flopped down to sit in front of her. Silence
surrounded them again, now that their bubble-bursting friend had left for less intimate
pastures. Finally she caught glimpse of his helmet and grabbed it.

“I always thought you looked kinda hot on the bike.” She let her fingers trace over
the lines of the thick plastic, over the visor, and around the jagged design that
so seemed to define Jeremy’s personality.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I had all these awesome fantasies about you and me and the motorcycle and vibrations…”
She realized she said all of that out loud and she flushed, glad the light was too
low to see for sure.

But Jeremy just laughed. “Sounds close to what I’ve been dealing with.”

Almost by silent agreement, they stood. Madison handed him his helmet back. Screw
preamble. He just gave her an orgasm through her gym shorts. They were sort of past
playing coy. “Do you want to come over?”

He took the helmet, rotated it in his hands, then shook his head. “I can’t seem to
stay away from you.”

“So how about you not stay away from me in my apartment? Where there’s a bed? You
know, the slightly more comfortable version of a workout bench?” she added as she
nudged the aforementioned bench with her knee.

He smiled but shook his head again. “Just give me some time, okay, Mad? I need to
think.”

Oh, no. No, no. No, no, no, no… “No.”

“No?” He took her arm and directed her toward the door. “What do you mean
no
?”

“Hold on.” She shook him off for just a moment to take the weights off her bar, wipe
down the bench—smiling just a little at the memory—and toss her towel in the hamper
by the door. Once they were out into the crisp night air, they aimed toward her apartment.
Apparently he was walking her home.

“I don’t like the things you come up with when you think. You go too deep, make too
much out of small things.” She turned and faced him, reaching her hand down low, feeling
the outline of his still-hard cock in his jeans. “This isn’t complicated. I mean,
it could be.” She grinned at him. “But we’ll save the gymnastics for another night.
It’s sex. We both want it—and we want it with each other. Why make it more difficult
than that?”