If I Don't Ask, page 26
consenting adults, and what might happen was just a product
of years of the Army’s suppression. Blaming the institution for
my weakness was wrong, but I needed something to blame
other than that weakness. The urge to touch her was so
overwhelming I had to clasp my hands in front of myself,
holding tightly onto my fingers to keep my own body
disciplined.
Her hand moved upward then dropped again. She
straightened and when she spoke, the words were tight, hoarse.
“Good evening, ma’am.”
Certain she’d been about to reflexively salute, I dipped my
head in acknowledgment. “Sabine.” I felt an uncontrollable
urge to fidget and gave in to it, adjusting my glasses. “May I
come in?”
She moved back as if startled into action, pulling the door
open with her. “Of course, yes, ma’am.” As I moved inside,
she asked, “May I take your coat, Colonel?”
The moment I stepped into her house all my self-doubt
vanished, replaced by calmness, confidence. I knew I wasn’t
imagining the attraction crackling between us, and my
certainty that Sabine understood what was at stake for both of
us made my fear vanish. I wouldn’t ask her and so she
couldn’t tell me. A flimsy, sneaky way to get around this but I
didn’t make the archaic absurd rule. I was simply forced to
work within its guidelines.
“Thank you.” I passed her my coat and turned on the spot
to look around the open plan, modern kitchen, hardwood
floors, Colonial furniture that didn’t feel dated. It felt like
Sabine, personal. I smiled at her. “We’re not at work,” I said,
recognizing the impact of those words. “There’s no need for
ma’am or Colonel. I’d prefer it if you called me Rebecca.”
She paused, and it was like all the alarm fell away from her.
“Rebecca. Of course.”
“You cut your hair. I like it.” It was an entirely inadequate
compliment, but telling her it made her look even more
gorgeous was too much right now.
She reached up to push straying hair away from her eyes.
“Thank you.” A pink blush dusted her cheeks and neck.
“I called your cell. About forty minutes ago.”
Her eye contact felt tenuous, as if she was struggling with
not staring at my not-uniform. “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m just, well,
I’m just sorting through some things. I didn’t recognize the
number, so…” Her smile was sheepish, as if conveying that
she would have answered if she’d known the call was from
me.
I flashed her a knowing smile. “This is a beautiful place.
Have you lived here long?” I asked on my way to her kitchen.
On the black granite countertop sat a bottle of 10-year-old
Glenmorangie and a glass with melting ice and half an inch of
scotch in it. The thought of tasting that on her lips made my
throat tight.
Sabine followed me. “Almost six years.” She sounded
hopeful as she asked, “Can I offer you a drink, or something to
eat?”
I placed my hands flat on the countertop. “Thank you, I
already ate but I would like a drink.” I gestured to the glass.
“Whatever you’re having, Sabine.”
She grabbed a tumbler from the cabinet. “Ice?”
“Please.”
She took her time breaking ice into the glass, then poured
two fingers over it before holding the glass out to me. But she
didn’t let go right away and our fingers touched as the glass
transferred. An innocent touch. But one that made me think of
other, not-so-innocent touches. I drank a slow, careful
mouthful, smiling at the welcome, familiar heat as the alcohol
slid down.
And I smiled inwardly at her expression and her obvious
attempts to keep her eyes north of my chest. The confirmation
of her physical attraction to me, not that I really felt I needed it
now, made me bold. “I’m sure you’re curious about why and
how I’m here.”
Her grin was lopsided, perhaps a little tipsy and a little
nervous. “I am, yes. Very curious actually.” She crossed her
arms over her breasts, tucking her hands into her armpits like
she was afraid they’d give her away with their gestures.
I dipped my head, catching her eye. “Sabine, I came here
because I wanted to talk to you, away from eyes and ears,
and…regulations.”
An eyebrow shot up as she stated, “You planned this
overlap. That’s why you were so specific about when I was to
take my leave.” She pulled a hand free to move between us, as
if indicating we were somehow joined.
“Yes,” I said. It obviously hadn’t been my intention to start
with, but when I’d realized the possibility it offered, I hadn’t
fought it.
“I wondered how you managed to have my R and R
approved so quickly.”
I smiled. “There are some benefits that come with rank,
Sabine. Also, I was owed a rather large favor by someone
higher up.” Now my smile felt bolder, almost cheeky.
“Why?”
I decided right then to dispense with my own subterfuge. I
wasn’t fooling myself at all. I raised the glass halfway to my
lips, murmuring, “I think you know why.” I paused before
adding, “I know you fly out tomorrow night.”
Tomorrow she would fly back to Invicta and that would be
the end of it. We would return to the dance we’d been doing
ever since we met two and a half years ago. The dance where
we both knew the steps but neither of us knew how to lead.
The thought of returning to that unsatisfying life made my gut
twist with both annoyance and longing. I swirled the glass to
shake the ice free and finished the last mouthful. I’d left a
small lipstick smudge on the rim of the glass, and I stared at
the mark, thinking about other places I might possibly leave
lipstick tonight.
Sabine’s hoarse, “Another?” dragged me from my
thoughts.
I held out the glass, noting how her gaze went immediately
to my left hand. The left hand where my grandmother’s ring
usually was. Sabine refilled my glass and added another splash
to her own. We both knew I was not going to be driving
tonight. I wasn’t going to be leaving tonight. “I’m not married,
Sabine. I never have been. I thought that might have been
obvious.” I dragged the glass back, staring into it. The ice
shifted, settling comfortably in the scotch. “I wear it at work to
imply things about myself. Things which aren’t true. Things to
make it easier for me to do my job the way I need to, without
people looking over my shoulder all the time.” I drank a small
mouthful. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“Good.” I set the glass down and raised my eyes to find
hers. “I’m so tired of pretending, Sabine. You have no idea
how close I’ve come, so many times, to just…giving in.” A
sudden emotional weariness settled over me as I thought about
how much I’d denied myself, and I only just held back my
sigh. “In the examination room, I thought that was it and I
would finally let go, rules and policies be damned.”
There. I’d said it, put every one of my cards on the table.
There was no turning around now, no taking it back. But there
was no fear, no regret. The only sensation was one of relief,
that I no longer had to hold this feeling inside myself.
Sabine inhaled shakily and dropped her free hand onto the
countertop as if using it to steady herself. And I wondered if
she felt the same crackling electricity as I did. The same
rightness. The same almost desperate desire to touch without
censure or interruption. Her expression left me with no doubt
as to what she felt, what she wanted, which made all my
conviction about rules and restraint float away. I pulled off my
glasses and left them beside my barely touched drink, then
slipped around to her side of the counter. At my approach,
Sabine turned. I took the glass from her hand and placed it on
the countertop.
Then I took another step toward her, conscious now of the
lack of space between us. I hooked my fingers under her belt
and pulled her even closer, making that space even smaller.
Sabine exhaled a quiet gasp. A dozen emotions flashed over
her face, but none of them settled long enough for me to
decipher. What I didn’t see was doubt, regret, or fear.
“What are you thinking?” I asked in a low voice, bringing
my other hand up to rest against her waist. The muscle
twitched under my touch.
“Nothing. Nothing important.” Her teeth found the inside
of her cheek.
It was a lie, or more likely her trying not to show that she
was thinking the same thing as me. That I wanted to drop to
my knees right where I was, drag her jeans and underwear
down and bury my mouth in her heat. That visual was so
arousing that I unconsciously clenched my thighs. I tilted my
head, unable to stop my sly smile. “Then why are you chewing
the inside of your cheek?” I touched it lightly with my
fingertips before dropping my hand back to her waist. “You do
it whenever you’re contemplating something. You’re not as
good at hiding your feelings as you think you are, Sabine.”
She exhaled loudly, shifting to lean back against the
counter. “I’m thinking…everything. All at once.”
“Do you want to know what I’m thinking?” I didn’t wait
for her response. “I’m thinking about how I’ve wanted to kiss
you ever since the first time we worked together,” I said, my
voice rough with want.
Her fists clenched at her sides and she inhaled a slow, deep
breath. With my heels on, we were almost the same height. It
would take nothing to move those final inches and press my
lips to hers, to taste what I’d been fantasizing about for years.
Sabine was utterly still, except for the deep rise and fall of her
chest. Now her expression turned almost frantic, as if she
feared I might step backward, gather my things and leave. I
waited, searching her eyes to see if there was the slightest hint
of reluctance or hesitation. I found none. She gave the
smallest, yet unmistakable, nod and lowered her eyes to my
mouth as I leaned in. I paused, wanting to savor the
anticipation for just a moment longer.
Then I kissed her.
As my lips touched hers, Sabine made a sound that had my
stomach tightening in anticipation—a little sigh mixed with a
groan, as if she’d finally been given what she’d been asking
for. The kiss began slowly but built quickly, and though she
was anything but tentative, Sabine let me lead. She tasted like
scotch and spice, felt warm and soft under my hands and lips.
The exploration, this discovery, was like nothing I’d ever
experienced, and I couldn’t hold back. I ran my tongue lightly
along her lower lip and Sabine exhaled, her lips parting to
admit me. She finally touched me, both hands cupping my
face as her tongue played against mine.
I pulled back, needing a moment to reset myself. But
Sabine followed, her expression hungry, lips parted as if she
couldn’t bear that we were no longer kissing. I placed a hand
on her shoulder to give myself an inch of breathing room.
“You taste exactly the way I always imagined,” I murmured.
She smirked, but underneath the cockiness I caught a hint
of vulnerability, as if she still wasn’t entirely sure how much I
really wanted her. “You thought I had a secret stash of scotch
somewhere in my room?”
I laughed. “No. I may have sought you out earlier if I
thought that was the case.” I slid one hand up to grip the back
of her neck and let my other hand roam to her ass. I kissed the
base of her neck where it met her shoulder, then slowly ran my
tongue up her neck, delighting in her shiver before continuing
upward, licking the light tang of salt from her skin, until I’d
reached her ear. “You taste like desire,” I whispered.
Sabine groaned quietly, melting against me. I pressed
myself firmly against her as we kissed again, aware that I was
pressing her back into the hard countertop. But if she was
uncomfortable, she didn’t show it. The arousal I’d been trying
to contain broke loose and I gripped the bottom of her tee,
frantic to touch skin. Sabine maneuvered us so I could pull the
shirt over her head, leaving her torso exposed except for her
plain black bra.
I took a moment to indulge myself in the small swell of her
breasts, before tracing my nails lightly over her belly, mapping
her with my fingers. She was exactly as I’d imagined—lithe
and muscular with gentle curves and dips. There was a scar
over her right hip and I lightly touched the mark with my
fingertips. “Appendix?”
Sabine nodded and I continued my journey upward,
watching goose bumps appear where my nails had been. I
wanted so desperately to have her naked on top of me, but I
forced myself to keep that small distance, to be slow. The lack
of body contact was necessary for what I was doing, but so
unsatisfying. I reached around and unhooked her bra, tossing it
away. I indulged myself and admired her breasts, her tight
nipples. But as desperate as I was, I didn’t touch. Instead, I
teased the button of her jeans open and slid her zipper down,
letting my knuckles rub against her.
I hadn’t allocated much thought to the garment I’d find
underneath her jeans but when I saw a scant piece of black
lace—a thong—my pulse increased, thudding heavily in my
ears. “That is not what I expected, Sabine.” I found her eyes
and slowly, lightly, brushed my hand over the lace. My voice
caught. “It’s incredibly hot.”
Her breathing was audible as I continued my exploration of
her body, leaving more goose bumps where I’d touched.
Sabine let out another soft moan as my fingers traced the
underside of her breasts and she pressed forward as if begging
me to touch her properly. Soon… I could touch her soon.
When I softly gripped her jaw and brushed a gentle thumb
over her lips, she demanded hoarsely, “Kiss me again.”
I didn’t hesitate, and as our lips and tongues began a
sensuous dance, Sabine pulled me even closer. But she left
enough room to work the buttons of my blouse free so she
could slide it from my shoulders. Her fingers danced over my
bare collarbone in the lightest touch, almost reverently. I bit
my lip on a moan as she cupped my breasts with both hands,
her thumbs caressing my nipples. She inhaled sharply as I
arched my back, pressing my breasts into her touch.
“Sabine…” My throat felt tight with want, my voice raspy.
I was beyond rational thought, acting now on nothing but pure
need. I didn’t want to think, I just wanted to feel. I had never
felt such desperation nestled alongside my desire, an almost
panicked sensation that heightened both my arousal and the
anxiety, that maybe this wouldn’t happen. That she’d pull back
and ask me to leave and I’d be left as I had been for the past
two years. Wanting.
She became utterly still, as if hit by a wave of indecision. I
knew exactly how she felt, had felt the same uncertainty where
everything was too intense and my want too great. Her eyes
searched mine and I could see their plea, as if she wanted me
to tell her, help her. But I kept myself still, though all I wanted
was to take the lead and guide her mouth to my breasts and her
hands between my thighs. But more than my own want, I
needed her to lead this. I was so aware of the dynamic of our
relationship and the control I had over her there, that I wanted
her to take control here.
I was conscious of the inequality of our relationship outside
this house and would willingly give control over to Sabine.
Some distant part of me wanted her to know that what we
were doing right now had nothing to do with work. And
perhaps I wanted to relinquish my command for the night, to
let her tell me exactly how she wanted to spread me apart and
fuck me, how much she wanted to make me come in her
mouth.
Sabine leaned in to kiss my neck and across the curves of
my breasts. I stepped out of my shoes as she began to push her
jeans down, but when she saw what I was doing, she went still
