Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance) (82 page)

"So, I was talking to Zippy about plans for later today. He wasn’t sure if you had the room for another night. You going to be around tonight or did you have to get home?" Crash sipped at the hot coffee and tried to look casual. As if he wasn’t hanging all of his hopes on her sticking around today so he could spend more time with her.

Even if they couldn’t do anything more than hang out, it was still preferable to Zippy’s plan—them going to that strip place that masqueraded as a gentleman’s club. No doubt that would cost them a fortune for the night, if not in cover charge then in drink prices. Crash didn’t understand the attraction of staring at naked women he couldn’t touch. Nope. He’d be just fine sitting at an Irish pub with a cold pint and talking to Trish.

"I do have the room for another night. Dawn and I were planning on making a girls’ weekend of it. So yeah, we can hang out with you guys until you have to be back on the ship at midnight, Cinderella." She grinned. "If the wicked witch in there says it’s okay with him."

Crash put his cup down on the table and took a step forward, then another, until he was close enough to reach out and brush his thumb across Trish’s cheek. "You’re mixing your fairy tales, for one. If anything, Zippy would be the evil stepmother in this scenario. But besides that, I don’t give a damn what he says about it. I want to hang out with you tonight."

He leaned low and brushed his lips across hers, stifling a groan. Now was not the time to be tempted to get anything started with her. One, they were out of condoms, and two, Zippy had already turned off the water in the shower.

Crash forced himself to drop his hand from her face and moved back to where he’d left his coffee, but not before he saw the look in her eyes. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and that made it suck doubly much that it wasn’t going to happen tonight. Christ, maybe not ever. At least not for the next seven months while he was in Afghanistan.

Being with her last night was either the best or the worst decision he’d made in a long time. He’d deploy with some damn good memories, but right now, all he felt was a yearning he wasn’t going to be able to satisfy.

Unless . . . The evil thought careened into his brain and made him both gleeful and embarrassed at the same time. It was risky. It was horrible, and dammit he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself. He was going to do it.

"Trish."

"Yeah."

"I think I have a plan. Something that might get us some more time alone together tonight."

"Sounds intriguing." A smile bowed her lips. "I’m all ears."

Chapter 6

"Liberty call! Liberty call!" The voice of the Boatswain’s mate reverberated throughout the ship’s communications system. Most announcements onboard were loud and annoying, but nobody minded hearing liberty call.

"Sixteen-thirty? They couldn’t let us go a little earlier? Jesus. It’s our last night here. It’s bad enough we only have until midnight." Zippy stormed down the narrow passageway on the boat as fast as a man could walk.

"Guess we should be happy it wasn’t later." Crash was as anxious to get the hell out of there as Zippy was, he just couldn’t show it quite as enthusiastically. Not since the reason Crash wanted off that boat was so he could see Zippy’s sister again. Before that happened there were a number of things he needed to do, chief among them procuring more condoms without Zippy seeing. For all Zip knew, Crash should still have the two he’d given him yesterday.

Crash followed Zippy through the confined spaces, heading toward the berthing and their assigned quarters. Even after the day spent on board, he was still very much aware of that same funky smell every military vessel he’d ever been on had. Not that New York City smelled like a rose, but it would be nice to get away from the boat for a while.

They reached their racks and changed from their cammies into Charlies. As the minutes ticked by, Crash knew he was running out of time to do what he needed to do. He should have tried to sneak off to Medical some time during the day and grabbed a strip of condoms for himself, but it seemed Zippy had been up his ass all day.

Crash needed to stall. "I, uh, wanna brush my teeth before we go."

Zippy leveled an unhappy gaze at him. "More than half the day is already gone and you’re worried about oral hygiene?"

"We’re going out to the club after we have dinner with your sister, right? You can do what you want, but I don’t want a lap dance from a woman who looks as hot as the girls on that billboard with a day’s worth of stink on my breath." Crash could pull an attitude as well as Zippy could. He cocked a brow. "Do you?"

Zippy blew out a breath. He reached into the small locker and pulled out his shaving bag. "All right. Let’s just both be quick about it."

Crash eyed the bag in Zippy’s hand. That was where the condoms were. Crap. How was he going to steal any out of there if Zip took it with him? As his brain reeled for a solution Zippy reached in and pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste. That meant he’d leave the bag there, unattended.

He needed Zippy to leave him alone for just a few seconds. "Well, by all means. Don’t let me hold you up. Go. I’ll grab my stuff and be right behind you."

"Fine. But hurry up." Another scowl and Zippy was off toward the head.

Zippy was barely clear from view when Crash grabbed the bag off the middle one of the three bunks spaced painfully close together. Luckily, a strip of about six attached foil packets were folded neatly inside.

Crash had just torn off two and was trying to decide if the strip looked different enough that Zippy would notice when he heard voices coming toward him.

Damn boat. No privacy whatsoever. There was absolutely no place a man could go that there wasn’t already someone else there, or on his way there.

With no more time to worry, Crash shoved the strip back inside the bag and tossed it on the rack where Zippy had left it just as two Marines came down the passageway. For once the passages being narrow and hard to walk through had worked in Crash’s favor. It had given him enough time to not get caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

He nodded to the two men as they stopped. "Y’all heading ashore?"

The two Marines stared at Crash like he had dick antlers. One answered, "Yeah. Aren’t you?"

"Yup." Admittedly, it was a stupid question. Who in his right mind would stay on the boat when they had liberty in New York City? Crash tried to recover from looking like an idiot. He remembered his original ruse to get rid of Zippy. He reached into his own locker and pulled out the small black bag he’d stashed there. "Just gonna brush these chicklets of mine and then head out."

The Marines had moved on to their own business. While one stood by waiting, the other one unlocked the lid beneath the mattress platform in the bottom coffin rack. Lifting the lid, he reached inside and pulled out his wallet. He realized Crash was still standing there like a fool and shot him a glance. "All right. We’ll see you later."

"Right. Later." With the condoms still hidden in his fist and his shaving bag held in the crook of one arm like a running back held a football, Crash left the two. He strode down the passageway, his rubber-soled shoes moving over the non-skid floors as fast as he could go.

As Crash stashed the condoms in his pocket he realized he’d gotten away with it. Or at least with part one of his plan. There was much more to do to make tonight turn out the way he hoped it would. Yeah, he felt guilty. In the span of twenty-four hours he’d lied, stolen, and slept with his best friend’s sister. The worst part was, he couldn’t wait to see Trish again. More than just see her. Crash couldn’t wait to commit that last sin at least one more time. Maybe two.

Not his fault, really. She was a smart, sexy, funny woman. A girl who was great to hang out with, who also happened to be nice to look at. Then there was the unbelievable sex they’d had that he couldn’t wait to have again. He blamed that part—how he ached to sink himself deep inside her so badly it nearly hurt—on the impending deployment. He’d just have to move on from the guilt over that. Time to get this night started.

Crash deflected Zippy’s annoyance at his taking too long and managed to actually get his teeth brushed. He ignored his friend and took the extra time to gargle with mouthwash too. He planned on doing some kissing tonight, and he didn’t want Trish’s last memory of him before he left to be bad breath.

Okay, maybe he was worrying about the wrong things. He should be more concerned about his plan not working. Getting Zippy and Dawn drunk enough they’d fall back into bed together so Crash could grab some alone time with Trish was bad enough. But then he’d have to somehow get Zippy back on board in that condition without either of them getting into trouble and possibly losing Crash his best friend.

Zippy was standing in the passageway by their racks when Crash got back from brushing his teeth. "Come on. Hurry up. I wanna get this dinner with my sister over with so we can say our goodbyes and get to the club."

"Calm the hell down. I’m done." Crash tossed his bag into the locker and grabbed his cover. Turning, he shot Zippy a look as they made their way toward the hanger deck. It couldn’t hurt to plant the seed of an idea in Zippy’s horny brain. "You know, I thought you’d be happy to get another shot with Dawn tonight. Why are you so eager to ditch her?"

"This is the city that never sleeps. Who wants to be tied down on our last night here?"

Crash did. He’d be very happy to spend his last night here with Trish, rather than going to some overpriced strip club where he could look and not touch. He wouldn’t even mind if Trish tied him down—literally. Hell, he was open-minded. He wasn’t opposed to trying something once.

"Whatever you say. You tell your sister we’ve been cut loose?"

"Yeah. She texted that she’s here already."

Hearing that had Crash’s heart rate and his pace speeding up. He shot Zippy a sideways glance and hoped the anticipation of seeing Trish again wasn’t showing all over his face.

When had he totally lost his cool around women? He should be able to see her again without getting as breathless as a schoolgirl. Then again, the memory of being with her last night was so fresh that if he concentrated hard enough, he could bring to mind all the vivid details. The sound of her coming, the heat of her surrounding him, the softness of her skin and the passion of her mouth beneath his.

Crap. Now he was getting hard. Crash drew in a breath and gave himself a mental slap. They still needed to check out, and with them all getting cut loose at the same time it was taking a while to get off the boat.

He and Zippy joined the masses on the hanger deck inching along in the line that had no doubt begun to form at the sound of liberty call nearly twenty minutes ago. The men waiting engaged in small talk as they crept forward, ramping downward to the level below where the Officer of the Day stood his watch on the quarterdeck.

Finally, Crash and Zippy reached the OOD. Crash stood at attention in front of the duty, held his ID up with his left hand and snapped into a well-practiced salute with his right. "Permission to go ashore, sir."

The OOD returned the salute. "Permission granted."

Crash executed a facing movement and stepped from the quarterdeck to the top of the brow. Making a sharp turn to the front of the ship, he saluted the flag, faced back down the gangplank and stepped off. Zippy, having repeated every one of Crash’s steps was close behind.

Then they were free, striding down the brow that shook with the steps of so many Marines and Sailors eager to get to their goal—the pleasures of New York. Crash didn’t have to go very far to find his objective. When they reached the curb he spotted the now familiar car with the New Jersey license plates. Trish stood beside it, looking amazing in another dress. This one pink and a little lower cut in the front. Short enough that, with the high heels, her legs looked a mile long.

When he could pull his gaze away from Trish, he noticed Dawn and tried not to let his reaction to her outfit show on his face. Trish must have been working a plan of her own, one that complimented his perfectly. Dawn was dressed to impress. Or at least to attract a man with a breast fetish like Zippy. Crash knew instinctively, even before seeing her satisfied grin, that Trish had a hand in how Dawn looked today.

He grinned, and when they were closer, his smile only got wider when he saw the devilish expression cross her face.

"Hi. About time they let you two go." Trish accepted her brother’s hug.

"Yeah, I know. Tell me about it," Zippy grumbled.

When Zippy stepped back, she turned to Crash. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he stiffened. He glanced at Zippy and saw he’d moved on to saying hello to Dawn. With the amount of cleavage she was sporting, Crash figured he had a few seconds leeway with Trish.

"Hey." She smiled up at him and he was happy for the two condoms in his pocket, because if presented with the opportunity there was no way he’d give up the opportunity to be with this woman.

"Hey." Crash squeezed her tight, enjoying the feel of her in his arms before he forced himself to let her go and take a step back. He realized he was being rude and yanked his focus off Trish long enough to be polite to her friend. "Hey, Dawn."

"Crash. Nice to see you again."

Since she’d slept through his departure this morning, he supposed she could have been embarrassed that the last time he’d seen her she’d been stumbling drunk and attached at the lips to his buddy. But one look at her confidant strut as she walked in her mile-high heels around the car, swaying in the hips the entire way, told him she definitely was not that type to get embarrassed, which was fine. More power to her and even better for his plan for a repeat of last night.