Authors: Kristin Leigh
“Are you better now, Michael?” Madelynn watched him with her head tilted to one side and a curious glint in her bright, green eyes.
Mike cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, kiddo. I’m a lot better.”
Madelynn nodded seriously and said, “I’m glad.” She started bouncing then and said, “’Cause my daddy’s coming!”
Mike laughed and tried to hold her still. “Maddie, listen. Sit still and listen for a second, okay?”
Maddie tried to sit still, but she still trembled with suppressed excitement. Mike pulled her close in a hug and kissed the top of her head. He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. His voice trembled as he whispered, “I’m your daddy, sweetheart. And I am so, so sorry that I haven’t been here. But I’m here now. And I promise that I will never, ever leave again.” Tears burned his eyes, and Mike held his breath, waiting.
Madelynn pulled away and watched him thoughtfully. Mike blinked back the moisture in his eyes as he awaited the most important judgment of his entire life. Madelynn brushed her tiny hands against his cheeks, and Mike realized he’d lost the battle with tears. She whispered, “Don’t cry. It’s okay.” Madelynn hugged him then, her tiny arms squeezing around his neck, and Mike closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet, cookie-candy scent of his little girl. “I’m glad you’re my daddy.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, and she confessed, “I hoped you were.”
A sob escaped Mike’s throat, and he clenched Madelynn tighter to him. His heart beat hard against his chest, and Mike knew in that moment that it had never really beat before.
Chapter 21
Madelynn didn’t go to bed until nearly eleven o’clock. It didn’t take her long to figure out her daddy couldn’t tell her “no” to anything. So after three glasses of milk with Oreo cookies and four bedtime stories, she finally fell asleep on Mike’s lap. When Mike tried to stand to carry her to bed, Tara moved to help him. He waved her away, though, and Tara watched as he slowly and carefully made his way to Madelynn’s room. She followed him, watching from the door as he kissed Madelynn good night, whispered, “I love you,” and covered her with blankets before turning out the light.
When Mike emerged and closed the door, Tara remained silent, waiting for him to speak, unsure of where they stood.
“Thank you, Tara.” His voice was husky and deep, and he looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. “I didn’t expect…” He trailed off and rubbed his eyes.
“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I thought…” Tara stopped, searching for the words.
“It’s okay.” Mike looked back at her with a slight smile. “I’m glad you did.” He moved toward her then, and her heart leaped in her chest before beating harder, faster. “Now the only thing left is us. What are we gonna do, Tara?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. Michael, I—”
“Mike,” he interrupted, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her toward him.
“Mike.” Tara breathed deeply and placed her hands on his chest as Mike pulled her body flush against his. He was so warm, so hard. So much what she’d needed for so long. She stared at her hands where they rested.
“Tara, look at me.”
Tara looked up just as his head lowered. She met his eyes for only a split-second before they slid closed and Mike’s lips crushed hers. His tongue prodded and then slid into her mouth in soft, sure strokes.
“Your bedroom?” Mike muttered against her mouth.
Tara moaned in response and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Tara, where’s your bedroom?” His voice was urgent now, and she bit at his lower lip.
“We can’t do this in the hallway, Tara. Where’s your fucking bedroom?”
Tara pulled away as reality intruded. She blinked for a moment and then said, “Other side of the living room. Down that hall.”
Mike walked her backward a few steps and then spun her around and pushed her in that direction.
When they reached her bedroom, he closed the door behind him and said, “Do I need to lock it?”
Tara shook her head. Maddie was a deep sleeper and wouldn’t wake up until morning. Mike locked it anyway. Tara swallowed, her nerves kicking in all of a sudden.
She moved to the other side of the neatly made bed, and he stalked her, his eyes intent.
“Mike, I…”
Tara didn’t finish, cut off when he moved swiftly in front of her and pushed her onto the bed. Her breath left her in a soft sigh. Mike remained silent as he pulled her shoes off and then unsnapped her jeans and pulled them down her legs.
“Your shirt,” he whispered.
Tara sat up and complied, pulled her blouse over her head, and unsnapped her bra. When her shirt cleared her head, she saw Mike tearing his own top off. She got a glimpse of hair-dusted underarms before her gaze was drawn to his powerful chest. Tara licked her lips.
Yummy.
Mike sat down next to her and pulled his jeans off before fumbling with the mechanism of the prosthesis. Tara still couldn’t see the flesh as it was covered with what looked like a giant sock. He didn’t take it off. She made a mental note to work on that. He was too self-conscious about it.
As Mike leaned forward to prop the prosthesis against her nightstand, Tara trailed her fingers down his back. He shivered and jerked his eyes to hers. He turned to her and pushed her onto her back before dragging her up the bed.
“Touch me,” he whispered hoarsely.
Tara complied, trailing her hands across his broad shoulders and down his chest and abdomen before stopping at the waist of his boxers. She retraced her path, loving the play of hard muscles tensing beneath her fingertips.
“I belong to you.” Mike whispered, his voice barely audible.
Her eyes flew to his, and Tara opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find words that fit the gravity of the moment.
“Do whatever you want with me. But understand that until the day I die, I belong to you. I always have.”
Tara felt tears slide down her temple and into her hair. She slid her fingers into his hair and pulled him to her. Mike took over then, touching and kissing her until she gripped the sheets in frustration. His tongue circled her nipples, never touching the aching tips. His fingers stroked against the lips of her sex, never sliding inside.
Tara felt his erection brush against her time and again. When it became too much to bear, she slid her hand inside the waistband of his boxers and grasped his swollen penis. Mike groaned against her lips.
Tara stroked him slowly, drawing forth a bead of moisture from his straining member. She caressed the slit at the top, spreading precum around the flared head. Mike buried his face in her neck and said, “I wanted to make this last. Make it special.”
She squeezed him again, pulling her hand up the entire length before saying, “It is special, Mike. And so good. If you’d just finish it…”
Mike kissed her, a quick, hard press of his lips to hers, and bit her lower lip before rolling over to yank his boxers off. He turned onto his side and watched her, trailing his fingers from her collarbone to hip. His touch was light, leaving tingles everywhere he touched. Tara shivered, and that seemed to jolt him into action.
Mike jerked her legs apart and slid between them, positioning himself at her entrance. His eyes met hers and held as he pushed himself inside with a deep groan.
Her hips arched involuntarily, and Tara clawed at his back. She felt so full, so stretched, it was nearly painful.
Mike ground against her, fully embedded but not thrusting, circling his hips to put pressure on her clit. Tara clenched around him as he finally slid out, trying to hold him inside of her.
She looked up at his face, the set of his jaw, the sweat beading his upper lip and forehead. Mike’s brow was furrowed in concentration, his eyes narrowed against the pleasure he was taking in her body.
“Mike,” she whispered brokenly, needing to tell him before another second passed.
He didn’t answer, just kissed her deeply. When he pulled away and met her eyes, she whispered, “I love you.”
His eyes widened, and she actually
felt
him jerk inside of her before he sped up his thrusts.
“Tara,” he groaned and tucked his arms beneath hers to cradle her head in his hands. He kissed her again, his tongue thrusting in time with his hips.
Tara’s feet dug into his thighs, pulling him harder, faster against her. The swirling tension suddenly became unbearable, and she cried out as wave after wave of ecstasy consumed her.
Not long after her own orgasm ceased, Mike tensed and slowed as he followed her into oblivion.
*
Mike breathed heavily against Tara’s neck, his body limp on hers. He tried to rise on his elbows to take some of his weight off of her. His arms shook, and he collapsed against her, unable to hold his own bulk.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. Mike rolled off of her, the wet sound of their parting bodies loud in the otherwise quiet room. He tugged Tara into his arms and kissed her temple. She snuggled against him, nuzzling his chest with her cheek. Mike closed his eyes, feeling closer to heaven than he ever had in his entire, miserable, hell-bound life.
“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice breaking on the words.
Tara sniffed, and he looked down to see if she was crying. She turned her head to hide from him, but he felt the answer in the warm tears slipping onto his chest.
“What now?” she asked. Her breath stirred the hair on his chest, tickling him. He rubbed the spot and sighed.
“I don’t know. I guess we pick up where we left off.” Mike lifted his head and looked down at her. “We’ll figure it out. As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine.”
“Promise you won’t go all macho-man asshole crazy on me again?” Tara tweaked his nipple playfully.
“Ow!” he exclaimed in mock pain. “Not this time.” Mike kissed her temple again and pulled her closer. This was where he was meant to be, where he should have been, where he’d wanted to be for so long. “I promise.”
Epilogue
May
Mike flinched as Lt. Paulson clapped him on the back.
“Ready, Davis?” LT kept his hand on Mike’s shoulder and squeezed.
Mike gulped. “I think so, sir.” Hell no, he wasn’t ready. He was terrified. This whole stupid idea had been dreamed up by Lt. Paulson’s fiancée and her friends. Mike knew they were friends with Tara and probably had some insight as to her deepest desires but…damn. Knowing she would love it didn’t make it any better.
Mike straightened his tie and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Remember, everyone’s watching. If you fuck up, we’re never going to let you live it down. You will be mocked mercilessly.”
Mike stared at the LT incredulously. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because frankly, sir, that’s the worst damn pep talk I’ve ever gotten.”
Lt. Paulson grinned, and Mike just stared at him. “Just a little revenge.” Mike frowned at him in confusion. Revenge for what?
The LT clapped Mike on the shoulder again and leaned closer. In a loud whisper, he reiterated, “Don’t fuck up.” With a morbid laugh, Lt. Paulson left.
Mike cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
* * * *
Tara watched as Chris, Callie’s fiancé, returned to the table and sat down. He met her eyes and winked. She gave him a small smile. He was too intimidating for anything more than that. When she realized he’d returned alone, Tara frowned. “Where’s Mike?”
“Still in the bathroom.” Chris leaned over and whispered something to Callie and then pecked her on the lips and shushed her when she giggled.
Tara watched them in amusement. They were constantly touching and kissing, finding little ways to display their affection. It was sickening and cute at the same time.
Tara sipped her water and looked around the banquet hall. It was packed full of sailors and SEALs practically sparkling in their uniforms. Mike had been surprised to be invited to the Memorial Day formal event and hadn’t planned to go despite Tara’s repeated attempts to talk him into it. Then Chris had showed up and told Mike he had to go. Just like that, Mike had begrudgingly agreed to attend, though he refused to wear the uniform. He’d worn a suit instead.
His transition back into her life had been remarkably easy. At first, her friends and family had been hesitant to accept Mike’s reappearance. But he’d proven himself time and again, and they’d eventually warmed up to him.
He’d found a job as a civilian consultant on base; Tara honestly had no idea what he was consulting about and suspected she wasn’t allowed to know. Their lives were settling in, stabilizing, and Tara couldn’t believe the contentment and happiness she’d found.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention.” Tara shook off her thoughts and turned to face the front of the room where an older, gray-haired man stood in front of the live band. He didn’t use a microphone, but Tara suspected he hadn’t needed to in a long time. He had more bars and medals on his chest than everyone else combined. His mere presence demanded silence. It had to be Admiral Grey. He’d served with her father, and though Tara had never met him, she’d recognized the name on the program placed at their table.
“I’m not giving a safety brief, but I would like to point out that if I find out who spiked the non-alcoholic punch, you will be signing a DD214 Monday morning.” He paused and looked around. No one spoke and he nodded. “Moving on, then. Most of you remember Chief Davis. He’s a decorated SEAL and an excellent leader to lower enlisted. Despite the fact that he received a medical retirement due to injuries sustained in the line of duty, he’s here with us tonight. Let’s give him a hooya.”
“Hooya!” Tara jumped at the excessively loud battle cry that echoed throughout the room. She looked around. Where was Mike? He was missing it.
The admiral smiled as the noise died down. “Now I’m going to turn it over to Chief Davis. We’re going to let him have the floor for a few minutes in honor of his service.”
Tara furrowed her brow. Mike was going to give a speech? That was…odd. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned her head. Mike was walking from the edge of the room toward the admiral. His face glistened with sweat, and he looked a little…twitchy. Tara didn’t blame him. She would be nervous giving a speech to all these people. But why hadn’t he mentioned it to her?