Command and Control (4 page)

Trevor drew in a painful breath, his fingers clenching around the fork in his hand.

The fact that Tyson and Ellie had paired him up on a project with Megan really didn’t surprise him much either. And maybe a week ago it would’ve pissed him off, but now…now he needed all the help he could get convincing her to give them another chance.

Trevor hadn’t even realized how badly he wanted that second chance until he’d thought Megan was about to marry someone else. The memory of this afternoon, what had happened in her office, was still sharp in his mind. Hell, his cock was probably still blue from wanting her so badly.

But then he kind of enjoyed the feeling of being aroused again. Of the need to fuck so badly it felt like he could hammer nails into a board with his dick. He hadn’t felt like this since before she’d left him.

He glanced over at Megan, who was seated nearly as far away from him as possible. She also seemed to be avoiding conversation, and instead was focusing on her spaghetti. Sucking a long noodle from her fork and then licking the trace of sauce from her full lips.

She reached for her wine, and her gaze slipped over to him almost stealthily. But he’d been watching, waiting, and he saw it.

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass and color stained her cheeks slightly before she jerked her gaze away again.

And just like that he remembered how it felt to have his finger deep inside her body. To feel her squeezing tightly as she trembled through an orgasm.

Trevor took another drink of wine, his gaze sliding over her face. God, he wanted to watch her come again. Watch her lose all control when she climaxed. He’d always loved that. Megan was a confident woman in bed who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted.

He remembered one time when she’d shown up at the base just in time for the weekend. She’d been dressed in a familiar tan trench coat, but surprised him by wearing nothing but a g-string underneath. They’d barely made it off base before she’d told him to pull over and fuck her in a small wooded area.

He watched Megan now, the way she shifted in her seat, a sign of her awareness that he was watching her. And Trevor was all too familiar with the way she would trace her fingers low over her neck when she was aroused. Just like she was now.

Her gaze lifted again and then dropped immediately. He watched her mouth move in a silent curse.

Biting back a laugh he turned his attention to his food once more to give her a little peace.

When the dinner was finally over and everyone was saying their goodbyes, he made his way over to Megan, who was edging toward the door.

“Let me walk you out?” he asked softly.

Her mouth tightened and for a moment he thought she would refuse, then she gave a slight nod.

“Megan, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ellie called out. “The bachelorette party, baby!”

“Oh, right.” Megan nodded and Trevor stifled a laugh at her tight smile. “I’ll be there.”

He knew she hated the party scene and rarely drank. Though when she did get a few in her…look out world. Because anything went.

Tyson had tried to refuse a bachelor party, but Todd had convinced him to at least hang out at his place tomorrow night with the guys to watch the baseball game, grill some brats and have a few beers. Trevor figured Ellie wouldn’t do anything too much crazier with the girls tomorrow.

When they stepped outside a few minutes later, the night air was significantly cooler and Megan shivered, wrapping her arms around her.

Out of habit, Trevor started to shrug out of his light jacket to offer it to her, but she shook her head and stepped back, her expression pinched as she looked him over.

“Let’s just be clear about this,” Megan said. “I’m not really happy being buddied up with you, Trevor. I’ll do it because I care about your family and this wedding, but don’t be getting any ideas about us.”

Had she been practicing that little speech in her head all through dinner? He arched an eyebrow. “Ideas, angel?”

“Don’t call me angel anymore. And yes, ideas. What happened this afternoon was a complete mistake. A fluke.” She turned on her heel and started toward her car.

“You coming on my finger wasn’t a fluke, Megan.”

She spun around in an instant, her palm arcing toward his face. He caught her wrist before it connected, barely blinking at her sudden attack.

Beneath the streetlamp he saw the anger and humiliation blazing in her eyes.

“Whether your mind is ready to acknowledge it or not,” he continued softly. “Your body still wants me.”

“Yes, well my body would also love to eat a half dozen cupcakes a day, Trevor. Fortunately, I have a brain to overrule its bad instincts.”

His lips twitched. “Hmm. Guess it wasn’t working this afternoon?”

Megan let out a growl and tugged her hand free. “My original point was—and still is—I’m not sleeping with you again.”

“Why not? Would it really be so bad?”

“For one, I’m dating Henry.”

He shook his head and called her bluff. “Henry means nothing to you. You’re barely dating him. I bet you haven’t even let the guy kiss you.”

The way her cheeks went red made him realize he was likely right. A wave of relief and triumph swept through him, easing some of the tension from his muscles that had appeared when she’d thrown Henry in his face.

“Regardless of what I’ve done with Henry, I
am
still seeing him.”

Something about the way she kept throwing the other guy up as a barrier made his blood pressure kick up a notch.

“So call it off,” his suggested tersely.

She stared at him. Hard. Until Trevor felt heat stealing up the back of his neck now. He knew it was an asinine request.

“Answer me one question, Trevor,” she finally said, her gaze searching his face. “Are you getting help?”

Trevor’s abs clenched as if she’d just kicked him. All the emotional doors slammed shut inside him and his expression become flat. Stoic. He went to that place in his head, where everything was automatic and disciplined. It was easier just to be in soldier mode.

“I don’t need any help.”

He couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light or if her eyes shimmered briefly with tears. Then she blinked and gave a short nod.

“Right. Then a year’s gone by, but we’re still at an impasse.” She turned and unlocked her car door. “I’ll contact you soon about us planning a menu for the reception barbeque. Good night, Trevor.”

He didn’t make any attempt to stop her this time as she climbed into her sports car and revved off into the night.

Chapter Five

Sweat poured down his face as the Humvee rolled across the deserted road. Though it wasn’t quite empty, up ahead they could see the burning vehicle of their interpreter.

Trevor’s gut twisted as he called out for Burton to stop the Humvee. When the vehicle rolled to a stop, he climbed out, yelling instructions to his soldiers as he crossed to where Housyar lay bloody and motionless. Beyond him, the bodies of three more Afghan men, the acrid smell of flesh and car burned together.

God damn it, not again. Housyar had been with them for three months. Had risked so much, including his family, to travel with them.

Trevor adjusted his M16 and turned back to his soldiers, mouth open to call out more instructions. No. He stilled, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

“Get back!” he screamed, rushing away from the car and bodies.

Everything exploded. Metal, dirt and bodies flew in all directions. Trevor landed hard, his helmeted head smashing into the ground as a fist-sized shrapnel slapped into his upper arm. Pain ripped through him, making him see stars as he struggled to sit up.

Dazed, he became aware of the sound of small arms fire. He heard the pings of rounds hitting the Humvee and knew they were in deep shit.

There was no time for fear, no time to hope that his soldiers were still alive. Trevor crawled on his belly over the dirt road toward the Humvee, seeing body parts and car pieces littered everywhere.

He spotted the uniform of one of his men lying ominously still a few feet away. Nausea threatened, but he shoved it aside as he spotted Washington and Foster defending themselves.

“IED. The bodies were boobie-trapped,” Trevor screamed. “Don’t think Burton made it.”

“Bastards. Fucking, bastards!” Foster shook his head, still firing off rounds.

“Call for backup, Washington,” Trevor ordered tersely to the younger soldier. “You tell them we’re being ambushed and to get their asses in here now.”

“Yes, sir!” Washington yelled and climbed back into the Humvee.

Trevor used the door to the Humvee for cover, drew in a deep breath, then lined up his assault rifle and started returning fire. Aiming for muzzle flashes he spotted from the buildings around them, Trevor kept firing, adrenaline rushing through him.

The familiar whistle of an RPG sounded over their head, the only warning, before it hit far to their right.

Damn it, they were going to die out here. He prayed like hell Washington was getting in that call for help.

Another whistle of an incoming RPG sounded, closer now.

“Get back!” He jerked Foster away from the Humvee, just as the second RPG slammed into the front of the vehicle.

Trevor heard the roar, felt the flash of heat, and then everything went black.

Trevor jerked upright in bed, reaching for the weapon he wasn’t holding as his unfocused gaze swept the room for an enemy who wasn’t there. Sweat pooled from his forehead as he dragged in a lungful air.

The choking, acrid smells in his dream were gone, instead replaced with the salty sea air from his window being open.

His heart slammed around in his chest and he kicked the sheets off his body, pushing himself out of bed.

He went straight to the bathroom and turned on the sink, cupping his hand full of icy water to splash on his face. Each douse rinsed away a little bit more of the nightmare. Brought him back to reality. Or at least the current reality. Until he stared at himself in the mirror and only the haunted look in his eyes gave away the hell he’d just relived in his sleep.

He gripped the counter of the sink and lowered his head, his shoulders quaking with the shuddering breath he let out.
Damn.

The dreams had become less frequent in the past year, but they still came.

Trevor turned off the water and walked back into his room, letting his alert gaze slip around it. It was the room he’d grown up in; his parents hadn’t changed it when he’d left for the army at eighteen. Since he was often being relocated to different bases, or sent overseas, it was the one thing that was constant in his life. The one place he could always count on to return to.

Getting stationed at Fort Lewis had been a stroke of luck, being just a few hundred miles away from Wyattsville. It made it possible to come back and be with his family. To ultimately meet and fall in love with Megan, who’d moved to Oregon from Los Angeles five years earlier.

She’d been planning to relocate to Washington after their wedding, they’d even been looking at houses, and then everything had fallen apart. Or
he’d
fallen apart. He’d held it together for a bit after returning from Afghanistan. But like a loose thread on a shirt, he’d slowly unraveled a little bit at a time…

Trevor slapped his palm against the wall. Damn it. He could fix this. Stitch his life back up. He was a fighter, it was the reason he’d joined the army. He wasn’t afraid to face adversity. And he just needed to remember that. At least if he was going to have a chance in hell at getting Megan back.

Grabbing a change of clothes, Trevor went to hit the shower and start the day.

Bachelorette parties.
Geez, she usually tried like hell to avoid them. Megan cringed and followed the stream of ladies into The Oceanside Tavern. Ellie led the pack, giving a woot of excitement as the penis antennas on the headband she wore bobbed up and down with her bouncy steps.

They were taking over the tavern. Word had gotten around town about Ellie’s bachelorette party and people had cleared out, ready to let the ladies rule the roost tonight. But there were a few guys, mostly in their early twenties, who’d showed up probably hoping for some action from the girls as the alcohol flowed and the inhibitions loosened.

Megan followed the near dozen girls to the counter and lined up with them.

“Round of blow jobs, Evan!” Ellie hollered.

Megan shook her head. “Oh, uhm, no blow job for me, Evan. I’ll just have an orange juice, please.”

Ellie swiveled to look at her, her eyes wide. “Orange juice? At my
bachelorette
party? No way, Megan! I still owe you drinks—if not my firstborn child—for representing me in court last month.”

Clearly Ellie had already been given a drink or two before the party started. “Oh, it’s just, I’m getting over a cold. And the citrus—”

Ellie snorted. “You’re so creative when you lie. I love it.” She turned to face Evan and slapped the counter. “Give her a blow job.”

The other girls cheered and patted Megan on the back, hollering out things like
loosen up
and
have some fun
!

And here she’d thought she’d been loosening up by wearing a short flirty dress—because that’s one thing Kate had encouraged her to do this morning when she’d swung by the bakery. After all, Kate had reminded her, one had to show up looking sexy as sin to these bachelorette parties. Who knew when the opportunity to flirt would come up?

Not like she had any intention of flirting with any of the boys in town, Megan reminded herself. And it wasn’t like Henry would be there. Or Trevor.

Biting back a sigh, Megan accepted her shot when it came. But, unlike Ellie, she didn’t take it with her hands behind her back and using only her lips to hold the glass.

She pinched the shot glass between her fingers and tossed it back. Hmm. That hadn’t been all too bad. She licked her lips, enjoying the lingering taste of Bailey’s and Kahlua.

“God, that was awesome,” Kate said fervently. “I’m totally going to have to make a cupcake along these lines.”