This Time (20 page)

“Michael!” Tara whispered furiously and grabbed his wrist. “Maddie’s right there!”

“Mike,” he corrected her. “And Maddie is sound asleep.” He slid a finger between her folds, stroking lightly. “As long as you’re quiet…” Mike shrugged and smiled at her, continuing his gentle exploration. He leaned down and kissed Tara deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth at the same time he pushed a finger inside of her. He groaned and then pulled away to whisper, “You are so fucking wet. God I love that. Is that from last time or this time? Or maybe both? Is it my cum in you that’s making you so wet or do you want me as fucking much as I want you?” Without waiting for Tara to answer, Mike kissed her roughly, his tongue thrusting and mating with hers. He pulled his finger out and thrust two fingers inside of her, pressing the heel of his hand to her clit and rubbing. Tara jerked against him, and he
loved
that, loved that she was helpless against the pleasure he could give her. He began to thrust in and out, establishing a slow, gentle rhythm to stay silent. The glow of the television was the only light in the room since the curtains were closed, and it cast a sensual glow on their entwined bodies.

Mike kept a rhythm of thrust, press, circle, pull out, ignoring Tara’s silent pleas to go faster. Her hips churned under his hand, and whimpers escaped her throat despite the fact that his tongue tangled with hers. Her fingers bit into his biceps as she rode his hand, seeking orgasm.

Tara pulled her head away suddenly, and whispered, “Mike, please…”

“Patience, baby. Don’t struggle for it.”

When Mike crushed her lips beneath his again, Tara freed the arm trapped between them and slid her hand under the waistband of his sweats. She slid her fingers around his erection and firmly stroked from base to tip, drawing forth a string of precum that coated the thick head.

He jerked his head up from hers, murmuring, “None of that, now.” He pulled his hand from between her thighs, and Tara whispered a protest at the loss. Gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist, Mike tried to pry her hand away. Her fingers gripped him tighter, though, preventing him from removing her hand.

“I’m not letting go,” Tara whispered in a sing-song voice.

“It’s my dick,” Mike whispered back, “and I say when.”

“No,” she whispered back, her voice furious and determined. “It’s
my
dick, and
I
say when.”

Conceding that she was actually right in a way, Mike reluctantly let go of her wrist and returned his hand to her soft, wet folds. He pushed two fingers inside of her and resumed his rhythm. He settled his lips against hers and slid his tongue between her lips.

When Tara stroked his cock from base to tip, another burst of precum coated her hand, and she spread it gently, using it to lube his cock while she jacked him off.

Mike tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck. “Fuck!” He groaned softly, trying to remember that Madelynn slept just a few feet away.

He sucked strongly at the tendon in her neck before returning his lips to hers.

Their mouths ate at one another frantically, their breath coming faster and harsher. Tara’s hand slid up and down his cock with a frantic desperation, while Mike stroked and rubbed at the incredible wetness of her sex. The scent of love-making was strong, driving him on toward orgasm when he shouldn’t even have been able to get a hard-on.

Tara’s whimpers grew desperate as her hips shook against his hand, and suddenly her muscles stiffened as she convulsed around his fingers. Her own fingers tightened almost unbearably around his cock, and her strokes slowed to the same tempo he used to rub out her orgasm. Mike groaned softly into her mouth as his cock jerked and spurted his release into her rubbing hand.

Their motions relaxed and gradually halted. Neither of them moved their hands, though, just kept up tiny gentle movements that drew out the pleasure.

After several minutes, Tara pulled away with a last gentle tug to his now soft penis. Mike reluctantly followed suit, caressing her softly as he pulled his hand away.

Tara held her hand up between them with a giggle, showing him the evidence of his release. Mike grinned back at her and said, “That’s a lot, considering I’ve come, what? Four times today?”

She blinked contentedly and smiled. “I guess. I wasn’t counting.”

Tara’s face was relaxed, her eyes peaceful pools, and Mike’s heart squeezed in his chest. He loved that he could make her come that way. He pulled her close and kissed her ear before whispering, “Well, I was counting, and it’s four.” Mike stretched and then ran his hands down her body, soaking in every curve. “That doesn’t beat our record, but it’s pretty good.”

Tara lifted one eyebrow and looked up at him, confused. “Our record? You actually kept track?”

Mike chuckled and pulled her closer to him. “Of course I did. With you, I could keep a hard-on all night.”

Tara watched him, a waiting smile on her lips. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Mike asked, at first thinking she was asking him if he could still keep a stiffy all night. He was a little older now and didn’t have that sexual stamina anymore. But he’d damn sure try. Then he realized what she was asking and said, “Oh. It was seven for me and eleven for you.” When she frowned, he said, “The night we went to the fair. We barely made it out of the car and spent the next eighteen hours fucking in every room of your apartment. We never even got dressed.” His voice lowered, and his eyes narrowed. “We figured out what you like, and I showed you what I like. I ate ice cream off your tits, and you covered my dick with strawberry syrup and drove me crazy.”

“Oh yeah.” Tara smiled at the memory and said, “I’d forgotten about that.”

Mike’s stomach clenched in disappointment, and he swallowed hard against the regret clogging his throat. “You may have forgotten, but I never have. Every sexual experience I’ve had since then—since you—has been lacking. Nothing ever quite compared.”

Mike was hurt by the fact that Tara had tossed their time together to the back of her mind. He knew that she had been busy, and she’d needed to throw him aside to be able to cope. But it still hurt. It didn’t take a genius to realize she’d had to find a way to forget him.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands.” Tara sat up and slid her legs over the side of the bed; the curtness of her tone set off alarm bells.

Tara tiptoed to the bathroom, and Mike silently slid to the edge of the bed and reached for his crutches. He had to fix this. He didn’t want her to go to bed angry with him.

Mike followed her into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her from behind. The rubber top of his crutch pressed into her shoulder, and his hands slid around to meet hers, their fingers tangling.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His breath stirred the hair by her ear as he spoke. “I just wanted you to know.”

His fingers linked through hers, and they washed each other over and over before the soap started to dry, and Mike guided their hands back under the water. Tara took a deep, shuddering breath. “I know,” she replied in a low voice, sliding the hand towel from the ring. She dried her hands and then turned in his arms and dried his. “It’s never bothered me before.” She refused to look up at him, and Mike tilted his head in confusion.

“What’s that?”

Tara shrugged and murmured, “Other women. You.”

Mike squeezed his eyes closed.
Son of a bitch.
“I’m sorry.” Pitiful response, considering the magnitude of his sins, but Mike didn’t quite know what else to say.

“Were there a lot?” Tara looped the hand towel through the ring again and stared at the AC/DC logo on Mike’s T-shirt.

“How am I supposed to answer that? If I tell you the truth, you’ll hate me. If I lie, you’ll call me a liar.” Mike slid his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. “I regret each and every one of them. Can’t that be enough?”

Tara didn’t respond, simply kept staring at his chest. Mike sighed. Apparently it wasn’t enough, and he didn’t blame her. He understood. After all, he’d essentially asked her the same question. “Yeah,” he said softly. “There were a lot. Not many second dates, though.” He’d dealt with his guilt by finding every woman with light brown hair and brown eyes and fucking her. It sucked and he had no excuse for it.

Tara nodded, and Mike’s heart pounded furiously against his ribs at the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, knowing it wasn’t enough, would never be enough. He leaned down and kissed the corner of her eye, the curve of her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, spreading small, slow kisses over Tara’s face. He settled his lips on hers, careful to keep the kiss gentle. When Mike pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, he said one final time, “I’m so sorry, Tara. I…I wish I could change it, take it back. Start over.”

Tara closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She nodded and rested her fingertips against his chest. “Moving forward, we need to focus on the here and now. Not on the past. It just dredges up bad memories and hard feelings. I want to try to make this work, and it won’t if we keep bringing up ancient history. There’s just too much pain there.”

Mike nodded and laid his hands over hers, moving them directly over his heart so she could feel how it thudded against his ribs. “I know. And it’s all because of me. We’re going to have to deal with it eventually. But we can try when we’re on stable ground.”

Tara nodded and curled her fingers under his. “Okay.”

Mike lowered his head to hers slowly, giving Tara a chance to pull away. He kissed her gently for only a few moments before reluctantly releasing her and saying, “I guess we should go to bed. I wish you could sleep with me.” When she opened her mouth to explain, he continued, “But I know it’s not time yet.”

“We’ll get there,” Tara said with a tight smile.

“Yeah,” he said and leaned down to give her another quick kiss. “But when I get the hell out of here, one day we need to have at least twenty-four hours locked in a house alone together to get this out of our system so we can think straight.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tara laughed. “Maddie stays with Mom and Dad one weekend every month anyway. Come on,” she said, tugging on his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

Mike looked down at himself, the mess of semen on his shirt and stomach. “I’m gonna jump in the shower first.”

Tara smiled knowingly at him and closed the door.

Chapter 18

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Tara knew it was cold because as soon as the first streaks of light crossed the sky, Madelynn was wide awake. She woke Tara up with excited whispers to come and look out the window. Rubbing her eyes, Tara followed her to see thick, fat snowflakes drifting from the sky. A heavy, white blanket of snow covered the ground outside.

“Mommy, can I go play in it?” Madelynn squealed in excitement.

“Shh,” Tara said, “Michael is still asleep. We’ll try to go out and play in it once we get our clothes back.” She looked over her shoulder at Michael—Mike, she corrected herself—unable to keep from admiring the way he looked while sleeping. He was so relaxed, the stress lines on his face were gone while he slumbered. Mike had one arm thrown over his head and the other resting on his stomach, his shirt pushed up so that his hand lay on the bare skin of his abdomen. The Colts blanket she’d given him pooled around his waist and Tara could just make out the tent from his morning erection underneath the folds. His legs were out straight, his left one ending just below the knee. Tara realized with mild surprise that she’d yet to see it without the white bandage. Did he ever take it off?

Mike shifted slightly, and the hand on his waist slid upward to scratch his chest, dragging the shirt as he moved. He was extremely muscular, Tara noted, but not ridiculously so. Mike had a six pack, but only when he flexed was it obvious. His chest muscles were clearly outlined, though, even at rest, and the dark hair scattered across his chest only emphasized those muscles. She jerked her gaze away quickly and returned her attention to her daughter.

“Why don’t we get you in the shower, and I’ll grab our clothes.” Tara tugged Madelynn away from the window and into the bathroom. She set the water to the right temperature and pulled Michael’s plain white undershirt over Madelynn’s head. Once Maddie was set up with a washcloth and soap, Tara headed to the nurses’ station to inquire about their laundry.

It was already done and waiting, and Tara was delighted to discover that they’d even folded it for them. She thanked them profusely and returned to Mike’s room. The shower was still humming in the bathroom, and Madelynn’s voice could barely be heard through the door singing an unidentifiable song. Tara put the laundry down by the bed and sat next to Micha…Mike. Leaning down, she gently pressed her lips to his and covered the hand resting on his chest with hers.

Mike jumped, startled, and had a death grip on her wrist before Tara even realized he was awake. Before she could open her mouth to protest, Mike had flipped her over, twisted her arm behind her back, and had his other hand on Tara’s throat.

His eyes were angry, intent. She gaped at him, struggling to breathe. Mike focused on her, and after scant seconds, his eyes widened in shock. Tara inhaled deeply when his grip relaxed, sucking oxygen back into her lungs.

“Fuck, Tara.” Mike squeezed his eyes closed and released her, moving to lie on his back and throw his arm over his eyes. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

Tara lay there for a moment, gasping for breath before sitting up and putting her hand to her chest and watching him with wide eyes. “Michael, I…” she stopped. She had no idea what to say.

Mike opened his eyes, the emerald green shining and bright. “I am so sorry, baby.” His voice was hoarse and broken.

Tara’s heart clenched. She should have known better. He was a Navy SEAL. Mike was so well trained that he defended himself even in his sleep. She should have called out to him, should have realized startling him awake was not a good idea.

“No,” she said, trying to comfort him. “I’m sorry. I should have known…” Tara shook her head and put a hand on his cheek. “Let’s just try this again, okay? Forget that happened.” She took a deep breath, pressed a soft kiss against his lips, and said, “Good morning.”