Not caring who was in charge anymore, he obeyed, wondering if he would come the moment she touched him. Definite possibility. He opened his eyes and watched as she knelt beside him. Meeting his gaze as if she wanted permission, she asked, “May I?”
“Hell, yes.”
Her tongue licked the length of his shaft and his hips lifted up, demanding more. She gave it to him, wrapping her mouth around him. Her tongue swirled up and down, and Hunter dug his hands into the sheets. He swallowed a whimper when her lips rose to the tip. Then she wrapped her hand around one of his and lowered her mouth again. He closed his eyes and prayed the sensation would never end.
Minutes later, he knew he was too close to finding his release, and he didn’t want to come like this. Not without her. Gently, he pushed her away. “Lie down.”
Maggie stretched out on the bed beside him. “I wasn’t finished.”
“Some other time. Right now, there’s something else I want from you. You put me in charge. I’m calling the shots.” He retrieved a condom from the box he’d placed on the nightstand before dinner and quickly covered himself.
“Something new?”
Staring into her eyes, he hovered above her. “Honey, I could teach you things that would blow your fantasies out of the water. But right now, I just need you.”
His lips touched hers and he pushed inside. And this time, he filled her slowly, making love to her with everything he had left to give.
When she shattered beneath him, a little voice in the back of his consciousness whispered, Please don’t let this be the last time. And then he came, forgetting everything but Maggie and this moment.
* * *
HOURS LATER, HUNTER opened one eye, not sure he could move another muscle. He watched Maggie quickly slip into her clothes, then reach into her bag and pull out a pair of flip-flops. So much more her style than those shiny white things, he thought. But then it hit him. Shoes meant she was leaving, making a run for it while he slept.
He waited for her to dig a pen and paper out of her bag. After the night they’d shared, he knew she wouldn’t disappear without a goodbye or, more likely, a let’s-get-together-soon note. But instead, she picked up the white heels and tried to fit them into her purse. When the shiny shoes refused to disappear into the depths of her bag on the first try, she gave them one last look—a goodbye glance—and abandoned them on the floor beside the desk.
He didn’t move. She’d spared a parting moment for her shoes, but not him. She was leaving, sneaking out before dawn, and he couldn’t stop her. Hell, even if he let her know he was awake, he wouldn’t have a clue what to say. He usually did the sneaking, not the other way around.
He watched her tiptoe to the door, careful not to let her flip-flops smack her heels for the first few steps, but then panic seemingly took over and she ran for the exit like a spooked horse. He waited for a backward glance. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he wanted more—a phone number scrawled on an old receipt or written in lipstick across his chest.
He wanted a promise of one more night before he left town. Something. Anything.
But Little Miss Maggie didn’t look back as she slipped out of the room.
5
SIPPING HIS OVERPRICED hotel coffee, Hunter stood by the Marriott side entrance waiting for his commanding officer to pick him up. Lieutenant Colonel Walt Johnson had flown in yesterday for this morning’s mystery meeting, but had opted to stay with an old friend from West Point.
And wasn’t that a damn shame. Not that he was particularly close to his commanding officer. Colonel Johnson was too caught up in army politics in Hunter’s opinion. But his CO gave the orders and Hunter followed them. Occasionally, they got together for a beer. Too bad the colonel wasn’t available last night. Hunter could have used the distraction.
Everywhere he looked in this damn hotel, from the elevator to the inside of his room, he thought of Maggie, the woman he’d never see again. He’d spent most of Sunday in the Marriott’s indoor pool, trying to exhaust his body, so it wouldn’t ache for her. He loved to swim. He’d almost joined the navy, but had decided he owed it to his old man to follow in his footsteps and go army.
But yesterday it had been pure punishment. After a dozen laps in, his shoulder had throbbed, desperate for another one of Maggie’s not-quite-professional massages. And he didn’t just want the massage; he wanted the happy ending to go with it. One night of bed-shaking, mind-blowing sex had left him walking around with a hard-on that just wouldn’t quit and a pair of white heels he couldn’t bring himself to throw out. Go figure.
A red Mustang convertible pulled into the hotel parking lot. Johnson. The man liked his cars. Who wouldn’t want the wind in their hair on a sunny summer day?
Hunter took one last sip of his coffee before ditching the cup in the trash. It was time to work. Time to put Saturday night behind him.
“Colonel.” Hunter opened the passenger-side door and took a seat.
“Chief. How’s the shoulder?”
“Just fine, sir.” Ready for active duty. Please, God, send me back now.
“This mission should provide you with plenty of time for R & R. And you’re going to need it. Nail this one and that promotion, head of the Alpha Team? It’s yours.” His CO dropped a manila folder on his lap and put the car in gear. “The official briefing materials.”
“Thank you, sir.” Hunter smiled for the first time since Saturday night. Leader of the Alpha Team. A promotion. His dream job and a bigger paycheck. Whatever it was the colonel needed done, he’d do it. Hunter broke the envelope’s seal.
“Nothing but official crap in there.” His CO steered the Mustang out of the parking lot. “Just says your job here is to play nice with a political science professor named Margaret Barlow. Do a few interviews this week, set up a few more with your teammates.”