Terms of Surrender (19 page)

Danny groaned, awash with sensation as skin touched skin. He was dying for her, desperate for a quick thrust.
Just one…two, max. Then we’ll go.

“I’ve got this covered,” she told him when he reached for his pocket. “Did you know they still make diaphragms?”

“Thank God,” he muttered, even more excited at the thought of being inside her with no barrier at all.

And then he was. Mari settled back onto him, the loose skirt of her dress draped almost modestly over them both, and sunk onto his cock in one slow, steady motion. He wrapped his arms around her waist, caressing the soft skin of her back, revealed by the sundress. It felt so good, so very good. Though part of him wanted to pound and writhe, he also wanted to savor the moment. So he remained still, looking up at her, noting the utter bliss on her face. Marissa Marshall was beautiful anytime, but right now, she looked absolutely ethereal.

She sighed with pleasure, then opened her eyes and looked down at him. “Mmm.”

He nodded, shifting his hips a little, drawing another soft groan from deep in her throat. Lifting his hands to her hair, he rubbed its silkiness, and drew her down to him so they could kiss again. Despite their frenzy of a few minutes ago, now that they were joined, they both seemed content to go slow, easy. He kissed her gently on the lips, then moved his mouth to her jaw, her neck, to the lobe of her ear. Each gentle kiss was accompanied by a tender stroke, a soft thrust.

“Sweet,” she murmured.

He understood the reaction. It was sweet, tender, something to savor rather than race through. Which was just crazy considering they were sitting in a parked car in a public parking lot.

But right now, holding her, feeling her wrapped around him, he honestly didn’t care. And neither did she. They just continued to make love right there, oblivious to all the rest of the world. Until, finally, she whimpered her release, and he let go, too, filling her with every ounce of himself.

10

Wednesday 6/1/11, 07:00 a.m.
www.mad-mari.com/2011/06/01/June
Happy June!

Unlike when I said in December that it was my favorite month because of Christmas, or when I said it was March, because my birthday’s in March and I always get to drink green beer, June really is my favorite month.

Summer has started to spring up, but the evenings are still a little cool, the days aren’t boiling hot, and all the flowers are still in bloom. Plus…those damned stink bugs haven’t shown up yet. Yippie! (Come August, you’ll be hearing me rant about those rotten little buggers.)

As I mentioned yesterday, I am kinda busy this week. The temp/part-time job continues later this morning. As you know, I was off on Monday for Memorial Day…and oh, what a memorable day it was!

Hey, did I happen to tell you guys that I came clean to Mr. Perfect about this blog? I warned him about what was on here, and he promised he wouldn’t peek. But, uh, just in case…hey, Mr. Perfect? You’re peeking!

And if he does happen to show up, be gentle, okay?

I know you all know how to play nice.

Well, some of you.

John L. from Wyoming, you really need to find another hobby, dear. The threatening emails didn’t work. The love letters you’re sending me now aren’t, either. And no. I will NEVER tell you where I live so we can “meet up for drinks.” I’m mouthy…not stupid.

Bye y’all!

Mari

P.S. What’s love feel like? (Damn, now I really hope Mr. Perfect isn’t peeking!) Discuss!

Friday 6/3/11, 07:00 a.m.
www.mad-mari.com/2011/06/03/Payday!

I got my first paycheck!

It’s not a fortune, but it’s pretty damn good for a part-time gig.

Hey, guess what: I’m going to a fancy-schmancy party tomorrow night. Guess I’d better leave my Mad-Mari mouth at home, huh?

So, what’s up for your weekend?

P.S. Bad Date Friday—I haven’t forgotten! Last week’s “great date” discussion was nice and sweet…and boring. So come on, bring back the bad stuff. Ready? Set? GO!

“DO I LOOK OKAY?”

Her hands out to her sides, Marissa pirouetted, showing off the flared bottom of her black dress, which wisped and fluttered around her bare legs. On the couch, her brother, Adam, who dressed better than she did any day of the week, eyed her with approval.

Adam, who lived near D.C., had come up to visit today, and could always be relied on to give good advice about clothes. He had far better taste than she did, and had been the one to pick out this dress. He’d dragged her out shopping this afternoon when he’d heard that she had a date tonight.

“Fantastic,” he told her, grinning widely, his handsome face radiating his excitement for her. “You’re gonna knock this guy’s socks off.”

Well, it sure wouldn’t be the first time she’d knocked Danny out of his clothes. Boy, howdy, had she ever. More times than she could remember now…and she was nowhere close to being tired of it. She honestly didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of being intimate with the man.

Probably because it
was
intimate. It wasn’t just body-rocking, earth-shaking sex—though, heaven knew, they’d definitely had that. But there was also such sweetness, emotion. Sometimes Danny didn’t seem to want to leave her body, even after he came. He’d caress her gently, kiss her hair, stroke her cheek, whisper sweet words until they would fall asleep, still joined. And invariably, she would wake up to find him thick and hard, bringing her to insane heights of pleasure all over again.

To think—two short weeks ago, Marissa had been sure she’d never see Danny again. She’d thought she’d had the best sex of her life with somebody whose last name she would never even know; that it was all behind her. And now, here she was, thoroughly satisfied, deliciously sore from all their love-making, putting on her pretty new dress, getting ready to go with him to a semi-formal dance.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a sailor.”

“Naval Aviator.”

“Whatever,” Adam said with a wave of his hand. “You, who swore you’d never give the time of day to any guys in uniform. Going to a dance on a base…without having been tied up, gagged and dragged there.”

“I know,” she muttered. “It’s crazy.”

A part of her—the part that longed to be held in Danny’s strong arms while they swayed together to some soft, sultry music—was actually looking forward to it. But a bigger part—the part that remembered that whole military lifestyle her family had lived—wanted to run like hell.

She tried not to tense up when thinking about it. Tried not to recall the screaming fights her parents would have after coming home late from some social event, where her sobbing mother would accuse her father of having disappeared with some junior officer’s wife for a half hour. Then her father would counter that she was, as usual, being melodramatic and ridiculous. And Mari would open her door to her sister and brothers, who would, one by one, creep into her room and crawl into her bed. Huddled under the covers, the four of them would try desperately not to hear, occasionally able to drown out the actual words but never the angry, hurt voices.

Mari was firmly against infidelity, but sometimes she could understand why her mother had chosen to get even by going down the what’s-good-for-the-goose-is-good-for-the-gander road. The woman had been driven to it by a lifetime of hurt and humiliation. But walking out not just on her faithless husband, but her own kids? Not looking back, not once, not ever?

No. That she couldn’t see at all. How awful must the woman’s life have been to drive her to it?

“You sure you’re okay?” Adam asked, as always intuitive to her feelings. Usually cheerful and happy-go-lucky, confident about his sexuality and not one bit ashamed of his lifestyle, he was the most perceptive person she knew.

“I guess,” she muttered, unable to stop a tiny wince as she let the dark thoughts creep into her mind.

“Don’t,” he ordered, his smile fading, and a stern-but-tender note appearing in his voice.

“Don’t what?”

Rolling his eyes, he got up from the couch and came over to straighten the seam running down her back. “Don’t compare this to
them.
”

She didn’t have to ask who he meant.

“You’re nothing like
her,
and no way would you go out with anybody like
him.
”

She knew he was right, logically.
Logically.

Emotionally was another story. She didn’t even know her mother anymore, so she couldn’t be sure whether she was like her or not. Marissa hadn’t had a real, genuine conversation with the woman in fifteen years, ever since her mom had hooked up with a diplomat while the family had been stationed in Germany, and left to be with him. An occasional phone call or, nowadays, an email, wasn’t exactly a prime opportunity to get to know somebody.

Or to ask them why they abandoned you to an emotionless father in a foreign country.

She wasn’t close to her father, and she never would be. Still, damn it, she gave him props for sticking around. He’d been stern and cold, but he’d been there, every day, providing them with food and shelter, trying to show up for school events when his schedule allowed. He’d been a shit as a husband, but he’d always been the best father he knew how to be—which wasn’t great. But at least he’d tried.

The whole situation still gave her a headache when she thought about it.

“Stop,” Adam said, swatting her on the butt. “I mean it!”

“Sorry. I guess I’m getting cold feet. Going to one of these events, where the men stick their chests out to emphasize their medals, and the wives drink too much and share all the latest gossip in their small, incestuous society, doesn’t really appeal.”

Danny, however, appealed to her tremendously.

“This guy must be really special to make it worthwhile.”

“He is,” she admitted.

Adam turned to go back to the couch, bending down to resume a game of fetch with Brionne, then innocently murmured, “So I guess you really have forgiven him for not calling for those two weeks.”

Mari groaned. “You told me you never visit my blog.”

A shrug lifting his shoulders, he replied, “I lied. I love it—it’s my first stop every day. Believe me, I did not like watching your sad-sack meltdown after this guy bailed on you.”

Sad-sack. Yes. She had been. How utterly embarrassing. God, did she ever hope Danny had kept his promise not to go there and scour through the archives.

Quickly telling her brother the whole story, including the fact that Danny had shown up here with receipts and email printouts, she saw his suspicion ease. He might play it cool most of the time, but, at heart, he was as protective of her as she was of him.

“Okay, I guess you were right to give the guy a second chance.”

Before she could reply, a knock sounded on the door. “He’s here,” she said, butterflies leaping in her stomach. This was the first time she’d introduced Danny to anyone in her life. And of all those she loved, Adam’s was the opinion that mattered the most to her. Being the closest to her in age, he’d shared some of the burden for the little ones, and the two of them had formed a bond that nothing could shake.

“Shall I answer it and be all protective big brother?”

She snickered. “You’re three years younger and an inch shorter than me.”

“Half an inch,” he retorted, grinning as he walked to the door and opened it.

To his credit, Danny didn’t reveal an ounce of surprise or suspicion that a strange man had answered the door. He merely offered Adam a friendly smile.

“You must be Danny,” her brother said, not moving out of the way as he thoroughly sized the other man up.

“I guess you know me…but I can’t say the same. I’m afraid I don’t know you from Adam.”

“I’m Mari’s brother. Adam.”

Danny barked a surprised laugh, which Adam echoed. Then the two men shook hands and Adam ushered him in. They immediately launched into conversation. Danny was his charming, amiable self, and she saw Adam’s worry fade, his stiff posture easing as he saw what Mari had seen in Danny from day one: that he was a truly nice guy.

As usual, seeing Danny in his uniform gave Mari the shivers—both of utter appreciation, because of how incredibly handsome he looked in it. But also of worry.

In the days when they’d been enjoying each other in every way, she’d often managed to forget who he was and what he did. When he was naked—gorgeously, deliciously naked—there was no way to tell he was a pilot who traveled the world and probably had women throwing themselves at him in every port of call.

He doesn’t catch them,
she reminded herself.
He’s not like Dad.

She knew that, logically, in her Dr. Marshall brain. But her Mad-Mari personality was still so unsure, so worried about trusting someone only to be hurt, she couldn’t allow herself to completely accept it.

Her part-time job was almost at an end. She had only two more lectures scheduled on campus. The ones so far had been delightful—fun and engaging, with the students responding incredibly well to the Danny-and-the-Doctor show. But after the job was done, when they didn’t have to work together, and wouldn’t ever risk running into one another again, what would happen?

She suspected he’d want to continue seeing her. And she knew she wanted to continue seeing him.

But for how long? How long until he got called up to fly into danger, to risk his life? If they continued this affair, if she fell more deeply in love, what would happen when his shore rotation was up? He could be stationed on the other side of the world. Maybe he’d ask her to go with him? And maybe she’d even consider it, she was that crazy about him.

Then what? The lifestyle would suffocate her, the memories would overwhelm her, the doubts would fill her mind and her heart. And the resentment would grow.

So what should she do? Stick around and take what she could get? Or just let this go when classes ended, a memory of the most wonderful spring of her life.