Serving the Soldier - Part 4 (An Alpha Military Romance) (3 page)

With both of us pleasuring each other this way, I began to lose concentration. Either I focused on what his tongue was doing to me or had to focus on what I was doing to him. I finally gave up and rocked back further on my knees, providing him full access to every aspect of my pussy. He obliged and before I knew it, my hips were rocking faster, and then his fingers had reached up between our hot, slick skin to tweak and twist my nipples, sending surges of pleasure through me that I had never felt before.

I wanted to collapse on top of him, to press my pussy closer against his face, but I didn't dare. This was incredible! While I didn't hold him in my mouth any longer, afraid that I might bite down, I did continue to pump his cock with one hand, my weight balanced on the other. I'm afraid I wasn't too gentle, but he didn't seem to mind. With every stroke, my thumb caressed the tip of his head; soft, round, smooth, and wet.

Then, at the moment I felt myself building toward a climax, he began to suck, focusing his attention on my clitoris as his fingers pulled and grasped at my nipples as my breasts brushed against his abdomen. Finally, he completed each twisting and pulling motion by rolling the nipple against the palm of his hand. It was then that I came. I nearly screamed, something I had never done before.

I tried to pull away from him, but he reached up a hand and pressed my hips down closer to his face. He took in all of me, this time lathing the entire surface of my pussy. Then, incredibly, he thrust his tongue deep inside me, and held it there. My internal contractions obviously brought him a great deal of pleasure.

I felt the surge of his climax building in his cock while I continued to pump him up and down. My face was down by his thigh, licking the inside of it in soft, long strokes. Then, as my own pulsations gradually began to ebb, I felt hot liquid surging forth and filling my hand. He made a deep, groaning sound in his throat.

Moments later, the only sound in the room was our harsh breathing, and the buzzing in my ears. My butt and pussy still hovered over his face, while right in front of my eyes was his engorged, purplish red cock, wrapped in my fist.

Gradually, I loosened my grip and shifted my position so that I ended up lying on my back beside him. Neither one of us said anything for several moments, but my embarrassment quickly passed as my heartbeat returned to normal. I glanced at him, startled to find him staring at me.

"There's something about you…"

It was as if he was speaking to himself. I didn't want to interrupt his train of thoughts. The truth of the matter was, I felt the same way about him. I don't know exactly what it was, but I had known from the moment I saw him, from the very moment he opened the front door to me not long ago, that Jax Andrews was someone special, and not just because of his sexuality.

There was something that drew me to him even though I knew I should turn and run. I wondered if he felt the same way.

I woke up the next morning, surprised to find myself a little sore, not only in my private area, but in my triceps. No doubt about it, Jax had put me through a workout last night, but I wasn't complaining. Never in my life would I have imagined taking the position I had last night.

When I had first seen Jax and the Swede doing it that way, I had wondered what it felt like, and why, or how, a change in position could make such a big difference. The fact that that position allowed both of us to pleasure each other at the same time was extraordinary.

I got up, showered, and then dressed casually in yet another pair of linen pants, this time salmon colored, and a loose-fitting white linen tank top. Perfect for the hot and humid day it was likely to become. I went downstairs and began to prepare breakfast, not sure what I would say to Jax when he came down. It wasn't like we hadn't made out —okay, had sex—before, but last night was… well… was I overthinking it—again? Was I imagining feelings on his part when there were none, other than the obviously sexual ones, that is?

As I stirred the eggs in the pan, I knew I was digging a deeper hole for myself. Soon, Jax would-be cleared and he would go back to duty. I would see other clients.

For the first time, however, the thought of returning to my "old" life didn't appeal to me. I realized now that it I had settled for mediocre; a mediocre job, a mediocre life, and mediocre boyfriends. Did I want to return to the home health care agency? Or did I want to try something different? Go back to the hospital? Maybe to the ER department? I knew that I was capable, but that I hadn’t been pushing myself to continue my skills or my education. I didn't know why, but for the first time in years, I felt dissatisfied with the course my life was taking.

Was I going to spend the next ten, twenty, or even thirty years visiting people’s homes? Arguing with family members, dealing with stubborn old men and women set in their ways, or even young ones like Jax? This sense of dissatisfaction was new to me. I wanted to be useful, and I knew my job was important, but was this it?

I knew, deep down inside, that my experiences here with Jax were to blame for the change in my perspective. I wasn't just talking the sexual aspect, but the importance, or lack thereof, of how I made my living. Was I forever destined to come into and out of people's lives without developing any long-term relationships?

I thought back and realized that the longest I had ever stayed with one client was eight months, and that was just for a few hours every day, three times a week. While we were certainly fond of each other, that old man and I, I always realized that I was the outsider. I was forever on the outside periphery of family, and in my field. I didn't really have a sense of belonging anywhere. Actually, I was a substitute. I was a substitute for day care, affection, and help that a spouse, an adult child, or a parent would give. I was a good nurse, and yet I had become comfortable in my job as more of an overseer than a vital member to a medical team. I wondered if it was time to make a change… a big change.

Blindly stirring the eggs, I frowned. I had never thought of myself in this way before and it disturbed me greatly. If I were to make a change, what would it be?

"Do I smell something burning?"

I startled out of my musings and refocused on the eggs. Several of them were turning black around the edges. "Oh!" I quickly turned off the burner and moved the pan away as I glanced over my shoulder. To my dismay, I was rather disappointed to find Jax wearing clothes. "You feeling sick or something?" I asked.

"What?" He frowned as he walked to the stove, glanced down into the pan, and then shrugged. "They're okay."

He turned away from the eggs and looked at me. His brown eyes looked like a Hershey candy bar. I refocused.

"Why would you think I was sick? Don’t I look okay?"

I gave him a smile and nodded. "You look absolutely perfect," I said, and then inwardly cringed. Oh God, did that sound a little possessive, or worse yet, needy? "I mean, you look perfectly fine… I mean you look well, healthy wise."

He continued to stare at me and then gave a slight shake of his head. "Then why would you ask?"

I made a face. "Just a poorly worded joke," I said, sounding lame. "I was attempting a bit of humor since you actually walked into the kitchen with clothes on." I turned to retrieve two plates from the cupboard.

"You want me to take them off?"

If I'd moved my neck any faster glancing at him over my shoulder, I would've given myself whiplash. "No! No, I didn't mean that at all." I felt the heat of a blush moving up my neck and into my cheeks. He laughed and my belly clenched as the deep rumble seemed to vibrate through me.

I busied myself filling his plate with scrambled eggs and bacon. I'd never seen anyone put away as much bacon as he did. If he didn't watch his fat content, he was going to end up with hardening of the arteries by the time he was forty. Then again, when he was healthy and active, he probably burned it all up, so it probably didn't make much of a difference, at least not for now.

"I've got to go out for a while today," he said, sitting down at the table.

I placed silverware and a glass of orange juice in front of him, then walked back to the counter for his plate. "Okay, where to?" I asked, setting his breakfast down.

He shook his head. "I'm going alone, Angie. If you have any errands to run, you’ll need to take your own car."

"Jax, you know you shouldn't be driving yet, don't you?"

He shrugged and dug into the scrambled eggs and bacon. "I'm not going far." He glanced up at me, an eyebrow lifted, as if in challenge.

I sat across from him and picked at my own food. I love bacon just as much as anyone else, but I couldn’t enjoy it this morning. Jax seemed subdued, distracted by something, withdrawn even.

Could it have been the sex last night? Did he think it had been a mistake? Was he thinking that perhaps things were getting out of hand? This is exactly what I had been afraid of. Then again, was I reading more into it than was there? I didn't want to be a booty call. He could get that anywhere.

"Jax, about last night…"

He took another bite of bacon and glanced up at me. "What about it?"

"I think we should…" I hesitated and realized my hands were trembling. I knew my next words might slam the door in my face, but I couldn't allow things to continue the way they were going. I was becoming increasingly involved with him, and I knew that our situation was anything but permanent. "I'm just not sure that we…"

"I told you that I wouldn't take advantage of you," he said, stabbing a forkful of scrambled eggs and lifting them to his mouth. They disappeared. He chewed for a moment, repeated the process, and looked up at me as he swallowed. "If you don't want to have sex, just say so, Angie. You do remember me mentioning no strings, don't you? You don't have to worry about your job. Even if you don't want to have sex with me, you are my nurse and you can stay until you decide you want to leave."

I suppose he’d said the words to reassure me, but they did exactly the opposite. In fact, I felt my heart sink with disappointment. Did he seriously not have any feelings for me whatsoever? Not that I expected him to fall in love with me or anything, but still. The thought that I meant absolutely nothing to Jax made me even more certain than ever.

What the hell was I doing? What the hell was I thinking… that someone like Jax would become interested in someone like me? Oh, I wasn't suggesting that there was anything wrong with me or that I wasn't attractive enough or smart enough, but Jax didn't seem to be ready to settle down or even commit to one person. Why, look at Stephanie. And then there was the Swede. And me. And who knows how many others.

"What's bothering you?"

I glanced up, startled to find him watching me, his frown deepening. "I… I'm not sure, really," I admitted.

"Look, Angie," he said, placing his fork down on his now empty plate. "It's just sex. If you don't want to do it anymore, just say so. I won't be mad."

So that was it. Just sex. Nothing less, nothing more. I didn’t know what to say.

"Well, I need to get going. I'll be gone most of the day. I have a meeting with the guys up at Fort Jackson—"

"Fort Jackson?" I asked, shaking my head. "Jax, that’s more than ‘not so far’. That's a two and a half-hour drive!"

"So?" he asked. He stood and stepped toward the bowl on the counter that held the car keys.

"Jax," I said, also standing. "You can't drive that far. Let me just get my purse and I’ll drive you."

He shook his head. "I don't need you to drive me, Angie," he said. He took a step to the garage door, reaching for the alarm keypad. He glanced over his shoulder. "After I leave, key the alarm back in. If you have to go somewhere, you know what to do, right?"

I frowned. "Jax, seriously. You shouldn't be driving across Hilton Head Island, let alone making a five hour round trip from Fort Jackson. Let me take you—"

His face hardened. "I don't need anybody to take me."

"One of your friends can come pick you up—"

His temper flared. "I'm driving, Angie! And I don't appreciate being treated like a baby!"

I stared at him in shock. "I certainly don't mean to—"

"I have things to take care of, Angie, and you can't come with me. That means I drive.”

His eyes darkened and he clenched his jaw as if he were trying to rein in his temper. I stared at him. I had never seen him so much as raise his voice, and now he stood there, scowling down at me as if I were nothing more than a pest.

“Got it?"

I said nothing, but merely nodded. What in heaven’s name had gotten into him? He turned his back to me and keyed off the alarm, stepped through the garage door and then slammed it shut. I stared in shock. I heard the garage door slowly opening, and then the car pull out. Seconds later, the garage door shut again.

I don't know what got into me at that very moment, but I knew something was up, and I wanted to know what it was.

A secret rendezvous with Stephanie?

Was he really meeting the guys?

What was he up to?

Leaving the dirty dishes sitting on the kitchen table, I quickly stepped to the bowl and snatched up my own car keys. To hell with my purse. I knew I could get a ticket if I got pulled over and didn’t have my driver’s license with me, but I didn’t want to waste time rushing upstairs to get it.

I didn't go through the garage, but quickly headed to the front door. The alarm was already off, so I quickly set it, opened the front door, and then closed it firmly behind me. I hurried to my car, shoved the key into the door lock and climbed in.

It smelled stale and hot in my car, but why shouldn’t it? I hadn't driven it since I'd gotten here. Quickly pulling on my seatbelt, I shoved the key into the ignition, put the car in reverse and backed the car out of my parking space along the side of the garage. I tapped my breaks at the curb, glancing both ways.

There… heading toward the interstate that ended at the island, I saw the tail lights on the gray sedan as Jax took a curve.

My heart beat hard in my chest as I hit the gas and followed him. I still didn’t what I was thinking, or why I was doing this, but I felt compelled—driven—to follow him, to see what he was up to.

Could I explain it?

No.

Was it mere curiosity?

While there certainly was some curiosity involved, I was more worried that this little venture of his involved the people who were after him and his squadron. Which made my actions even worse.

I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to act. I was tired of always being logical. Boring. Boring, logical Angie. Staying safe and comfortable in the box I had fashioned for my life.

Well, screw that!

I didn’t want to be boring, logical Angie any more. I wanted to be someone who mattered. Really mattered. Was this the right way to go about it? Certainly not, but at the moment, logic didn’t rule me. Emotion did.

I was an idiot. I had no business following him. I could very well be putting myself in danger, but as long as I was living in his house, didn’t I have a right to know? I knew that Jax had not called the police after the incident the other night. If I saw something funny going on, I would call—no, I couldn’t call. I had left my cell phone in my purse, and my purse was sitting on the floor near my bedroom door.
Idiot
!

I made sure to keep enough distance between our cars so that he wouldn't easily spot me, and if I lost him, well, then I would just head back to the house. No harm, no foul.

What if he did spot me? If he did, I could probably kiss my job goodbye. So why follow? I couldn’t explain it. If he went through the gate at Fort Jackson, I would turn around and return to Hilton Head. But I had a feeling he wasn’t going to the base. I also didn’t think he was meeting with his friends. Why? Because they most likely would have met at the house to discuss the situation. Then again, what did I know? Maybe they had a briefing on base.

I shook my head. He wouldn’t be going to any briefings with the misconduct charge hanging over his head.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was going to see a military lawyer. Then again, maybe this had nothing at all to do with the military and he was meeting a woman. He had said Stephanie had left, but maybe she hadn’t gone far. Again, I swore under my breath. What difference did that make? I didn’t own him. He was not mine. I sighed and started to pull over onto the side of the road. This was stupid.