This Time (2 page)

* * * *

Two weeks of dates and being a perfect gentleman finally paid off. Mike managed to get Tara back to his barracks room and was pretty sure he was finally going to score. About time too. He’d been walking around with a woody since the night he met her. It made training hell, especially when he didn’t know his new training team well enough to explain why he couldn’t focus. The only people he was really friends with were Miller, Evans, and Johnson. None of them were SEALs, but all of them were assholes. Mike didn’t know why he still hung around with them. All they seemed to do lately was tease him about Tara.

Tara. God, she was amazing. She was sweet and smart and had the most amazing ass he’d ever seen. Every time she looked at him with those big brown eyes, Mike got a little lost. So, yeah, the hell with what anyone else thought.

“You’re pretty neat.” Tara looked around his barracks room and clutched her purse in front of her. “Guess you kind of have to be, though, don’t you?” She turned to look at him, and Mike nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah. We have inspections pretty often.” He shrugged and moved closer to her. “Once I’m on a team, I should be able to get an apartment. Maybe. I guess it depends on which team I go to and how often I’ll be here.”

Tara tilted her head and smiled at him. Mike rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling about the team, and you’re here, and I just…” He stopped, afraid he was going to make an even bigger ass of himself.

“I’ve had a really good time tonight, Mike.” She set her purse on his desk, took a step closer, and hesitantly wrapped her arms around his waist.

Mike sucked in a breath.
Finally. Thank God.
He kissed her softly, afraid she’d stop him, and this would just be another heavy petting session. He tightened his arms around her and shuddered when she slid her hands beneath his shirt and up his back.

Tara stroked her tongue against his. Mike slid both hands over her hips and dragged her shirt up. He brushed his palms against her stomach and gradually worked his way up to her breasts. Her bra was soft and silky, the mounds hidden within the cups spilling softly over the edge. Mike traced the edge of the lace with his fingertips before he finally worked up the nerve to palm the heavy globes. He’d been dying to get his hands on her breasts.

He pinched Tara’s nipples through her bra and groaned when they tightened and hardened. Tara gasped, and he felt the little puff of air against his hair.

“Mike,” she moaned his name. He smiled a little at the sound of his name from her lips. She was as hot for him as he was for her, and that was gratifying. He’d done something right.

Mike yanked his lips from hers and slid her shirt over her head. Following suit, Tara tugged his shirt up, and he lifted his arms to pull it completely off. He wrapped his arms around her again and unhooked her bra, groaning when the pressure of her breasts changed slightly against his chest. She had such perfect breasts. Mike had always considered himself an ass man, not a breast man. But he was quickly becoming an “Everything Tara” man. He quickly discarded her bra and set to work on her pants. Tara’s hands fumbled with the belt on his jeans, her fingers sweeping against his erection. He groaned at the agony of it and tore the snap of her jeans open before he pulled her pants and panties down together.

“Kick them off,” he whispered.

She did, flinging them across the room. Tara finally got his belt buckle undone, and to save himself further torture, he yanked his pants down and tossed them across the room to join hers. Mike lowered her to the mattress, taking a brief moment to be thankful that he’d changed his sheets that morning. He climbed onto the bed and slid between her legs, his hips resting between her thighs so that his mouth hovered above her breasts.

He set his lips to one sweetly puckered nipple and lightly pinched the other. Tara arched her back up to him and lifted one leg over his hip. He positioned himself and with a relieved groan, shoved his cock inside in a single hard thrust…and froze.

Tara stiffened beneath him, and Mike looked down to see her eyes pressed shut and her teeth digging into her lower lip.
What the fuck?
“Tara?”

“Just…give me a second, okay?”

“A virgin?” Mike blinked in disbelief. No one was a virgin past the age of sixteen anymore. How the hell had she managed it? And why would she have given it to someone like him? Mike swallowed and tried to go back to the carefree feeling he’d had for the past two weeks. But it was too late. She’d given herself to him and no one else. Mike recognized the significance of that, realized that meant Tara was falling for him. He squeezed his eyes closed and rested his head by hers. He felt the same but didn’t want to admit it. He was too young to start thinking about being serious. Mike turned his head to murmur in her ear, “You should have told me.”
So I could have left you the hell alone.
But he wouldn’t have left her alone, and Mike damn well knew it.

He held still, his body tense and struggling against instincts that screamed at him to move.

Tara took deep breaths, her breasts pressing against his chest with each inhalation. When she began to wiggle beneath him, Mike couldn’t stop his hips from rotating and thrusting in short strokes.

“I’m sorry,” he panted and tried to stop.

“It’s okay. It’s better now.”

But she didn’t look much better. Her eyes were still shut, and her jaw was clenched. Mike pulled out quickly and slid down her body until he was face-to-face with the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen. He didn’t know much about virgins, but Mike figured eating her out was probably more likely to get her off than sex. And despite the fact that whatever was between them scared him shitless, Mike wanted her first time to be good.

When Tara finally grabbed his head and cried out her release, Mike positioned himself above her again. He slid his aching dick in as the last clenches of her orgasm faded away.

She was tighter than any woman he’d ever been with, and Mike knew he didn’t have long to enjoy it before he came. He pounded into her; in the final moments, when it was already too late, he remembered that he wasn’t wearing a rubber.
Fuck.
He came so hard his eyes crossed, and the thought slipped away.

* * * *

February

“I need to talk to you.”

Mike turned, surprised to hear Tara’s voice. She stood behind him, chewing her lower lip and wringing her hands. Her eyes were wide and scared, which did not bode well for her unexpected appearance at the bar. “What about?” He asked, glancing back at his friends. He needed to find out what she wanted and get her out of there before Miller made an ass of himself. Miller snickered behind him, and Mike shot him an irritated look. He hadn’t called Tara in three days. It was the longest stretch he’d been without seeing her since they’d started dating three months ago. He’d wanted to call, but the team had been doing night ops training. This was his first training with his team, and his last week before his six-month deployment. Before his sea bag had even hit the floor, Miller had been banging on the door pressuring Mike to go out. Mike had caved, though he had no intention of taking anyone home…but he could let the guys think otherwise.

“I just need to talk to you. In private.” Tara wrung her hands and glanced at the three men standing around him. It was hard to hear, and Mike strained to catch each word. Loud music blared from the live band on stage of Deuces and Aces, the seedy bar that was the dive of choice this particular Friday night. He’d planned to have a few drinks and then head home to return Tara’s calls. But she’d found him and apparently without much difficulty. It wasn’t like it was a secret anyway. He came here often with his friends, and she knew that.

“Look, whatever it is, just say it. I’m a little busy.” Mike eyed the perfectly round behind of a blonde walking by, who turned and gave him a come-hither look. He smiled meaningfully at her despite the fact that he wasn’t the least bit interested. Her ass was round, but she wasn’t filling out those jeans the way Tara could.

Tara punched him in the shoulder. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m standing right in front of you, and you check out another woman?”

“Hey, I’m a man. And why should it matter if you’re here?” At her stricken look, Mike felt a tendril of guilt. He pushed it away. He was tired of defending her to his friends. He’d apologize later when they were alone.

Tara turned to leave, and he muttered, “Good riddance,” and turned back to his friends. He hadn’t thought she heard, had muttered it just for the sake of his friends.

But apparently she
had
heard because Mike felt her grab his shoulder to spin him around.

“Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?” He stumbled a little and looked down at her. His stomach plummeted at the anger and hurt he saw there.

“I’m pregnant, you asshole. I didn’t want to tell you in a damn bar with your stupid friends listening, but there it is.” Tara stared at him expectantly, her hands visibly trembling.

For a split second, Mike froze as elation streaked through him He’d used a condom…most of the time anyway. The first time he’d forgotten. And then there was that night they ran out. Then the picnic…Okay, Mike conceded. He’d used a condom
sometimes.
It was irresponsible and stupid, but he hadn’t been thinking of anything other than getting it on with Tara. But still, mistake or not, this was
his
baby.
Tara’s
baby. And Mike’s first impulse was to jump up and down. Miller laughed behind him, and Mike stiffened as the excitement dissolved.

“Damn, dude! That fucking blows!” Miller guffawed continuously behind him, and it wasn’t long before Evans and Johnson joined in. Mike’s joy shriveled and died a quick death. He resisted simultaneous urges to swing Tara in the air and beat the ever-loving shit out of Miller. Pride won, and he did neither of those things.

“How is it my problem you’re pregnant? Look, baby. We had a one night stand. Go find the other guys you’ve been banging lately and tell them you’re pregnant. It’s not my problem.”

Mike thought he might as well have slapped her for the look on her face. Guilt worked its way into his chest again, squeezing the air out of his lungs as he watched her chocolate brown eyes water and overflow. He immediately wanted to take back the words and hold her, tell her how glad he was, that they were going to get married now and spend their lives making more children. But Miller’s laughter rang out behind him, and he maintained an icy stare. He didn’t want them to laugh at him anymore.

Mike never saw it coming. One minute he was standing there defending the ridiculous idea of keeping a badass image going, the next his left eye and cheek were on fire. He looked up to see her stalking away.

* * * *

August

Mike stood in the parking lot outside the hospital, staring up at the glowing letters of the emergency room sign. Sheets of rain pummeled him, but Mike remained unmoving, unable to take the first step that would carry him inside to see Tara and his baby girl. And he knew it was his, despite what he’d told Miller. For God’s sake, she’d been a virgin and Tara wasn’t the type to sleep around.

The only reason he even knew she’d had the baby was because Tara’s nosey friend Rebecca had called him. Mike was less than a week back from deployment when she called, and he let her rail at him, accepting whatever insults she flung at him because she was right. But at least she’d called to tell him his daughter had been born.

Mike closed his eyes and thanked God it was raining. No one could see the tears streaming down his cheeks, and he could even tell himself it was the rain stinging his eyes.

A siren wailed in the distance, and Mike took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The siren got louder and louder as it approached, the piercing howl drawing him out of his indecision.

With leaden feet, Mike turned to walk away, his conscience and heart screaming at him to stop, go back. But he told himself it didn’t matter. She’d get over it and move on.

Angry at himself more than anyone, Mike resolved that if she didn’t want the kid, there were adoption agencies that would take it in a heartbeat. Even though his chest felt on the verge of collapse at that thought, he continued to walk away.

* * * *

October

“Davis you’ve got to get your shit together.”

Mike looked at Lieutenant Paulson—holy shit, the fucker was big, even sitting behind a desk—and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Those three jackasses you’ve been hanging around with just pissed hot for marijuana.”

Mike’s eyes widened and he stuttered. “I…Uh, I…”
Uh-oh.
He hadn’t known and certainly hadn’t participated, but association alone could get him in a shitload of trouble.

Lt. Paulson stood and handed Mike a cup. “This is your ‘Operation Golden Flow’ cup. You have one chance to fess up before you go fill it up.” The LT stalked around the desk and held the cup less than three inches from Mike’s nose. “Tell me the truth now, and we’ll take care of it. You’ll have to take a piss test once a week for the next fifty years, but I’ll take it easy on you. Get you back on track.” He paused and shook the cup back and forth. “Tick-tock, Davis.”

Mike gulped and took a deep breath through his nose. “No, sir. I didn’t know they were smoking pot. I sure as hell never smoked it with them.” He reached up and took the cup. “I’ll take a piss test whenever you want me to.”

LT stared at him, and Mike tried not to fidget. Damn, but the man could stare down a bull. “Fine. Let’s go.”

* * * *

Four days later

“Yo, Davis. The LT wants to see you.” Mike looked up from the brief he was reading to see Bryant standing in the doorway.

“Which one?” Mike still hadn’t figured out how to tell which LT they were talking about by the tone of their voice. Everyone else seemed to know, though, and it was irritating as hell.

“Paulson. He’s in his office.” Bryant slapped the doorframe, pointed at Mike, and continued on his way. Mike stood and walked quickly down the hall of the headquarters building to Paulson’s office. He wasn’t worried about the results. Mike knew he was clean. But Lt. Paulson was famous for his ass-chewings, and Mike really didn’t want to be on the man’s bad side.