I was what?” She tried to launch herself at him again, but Mitch wrapped his arms around her chest and squeezed her to him. “Let me go.” She struggled to be released.
“Calm down and I will,” he said between grunts as he dragged her out of the club into the hot, dry desert air. “He isn’t worth a demotion.”
“Let him report me!” She quit struggling once they made it to her Mustang, but Mitch still held her tight, his muscled arms like a band of titanium around her rib cage.
“Come on, Hughes. You think he’ll want to explain that injury to his C.O.?” Mitch’s Tennessee drawl sent an ache straight to her core. Her chest rose and fell in deep gulping breaths, adrenaline still rushing through her veins. She became aware of Mitch’s forearms just under her breasts, and she could feel his breath along her temple. Every inch of his hard body pressed against her back, enveloping her.
She looked down to study the masculine hands that had featured in more than one erotic dream these last dozen years. They were rough worker’s hands, with veins that stood out when he had them clenched, like now. Slowly, she ran one finger along a vein, then took his hand and moved it up to cup her breast.
A deep moan escaped him and he leaned his head against hers. “Hughes, why are you doin’ this?” There was an edge of desperation in his voice as his other hand moved to cup the other breast and he pushed his thick erection against her butt.
Desire and a deep sense of satisfaction spiraled through her. After tonight he’d never again think of her as just one of the guys. She closed her eyes and pressed back against him, covering his hands with hers. “You still think I’m not a real woman?”
“What?”
“At the wedding you said I wasn’t a real woman.”
“Aw, Hughes.” Breathing harshly, he kneaded her breast over her dress and rubbed his fingers over one tight nipple. “I meant that in a good way.” She harrumphed, but his warm lips traveled down from her temple to the side of her neck, placing succulent kisses along the way. All else was forgotten.
Alex tilted her head to give him access to that spot behind her ear. But why stop there? Why not do what she’d wanted to do for so long? She spun in his arms, fastened her hands behind his neck and covered his mouth with hers.
At first he didn’t respond, tried to pull away, but within a second or two he half growled, half groaned and took control of the kiss, sweeping his lips over hers, plunging his tongue in to lap inside.
At last. This was what she’d wanted for so long. His mouth moving over hers, his body pressed to hers. Her arms snaked around his shoulders, holding him like she’d never let him go. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t. And he felt it, too. Whatever this was between them was strong. She’d known it for a long time. Oh, Mitch. Yes.
He yanked away, breathing fast, and wiped his hand over his mouth.
She stared into his baby blues, so full of passion. Yes. That’s what she’d wanted. To make him notice her as a woman. To make him want her the way she—
“Hughes, I can’t. Not now.” He let out a long breath. “I gave my word. I still have three weeks.”
As if the spell had been broken, she blinked, dropped her arms from his shoulders, and stepped back. With a strange sense of detachment, she noticed his fancy watch glint in the moonlight. The haze of lust dissipated and a chill settled over her. What had she done? How could she have let herself go there? She’d almost believed he could have feelings for her.
Of course he wanted to do her now. That’d been her goal with this prank, hadn’t it? She shook her head, acknowledging in her heart what her mind had known all along. He was only interested because now he saw her as just another female to warm his bed.
She clenched her jaw and made herself snort. “I’m not going to sleep with you, McCabe.” She folded her arms. Twelve years of frustration welled up inside her. “Not now. Not in three weeks. Not ever.”
4
United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs,
CO, September 1999
ON CADET FIRST Class Alexandria Hughes’s first day at the Academy, her main goal was to make sure she didn’t walk inside the halls with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She couldn’t believe she’d actually been accepted. To a small-town girl from the Texas Panhandle, attending the Academy was amazing, a dream come true and scary as hell. But she would rather have had all her nails pulled out one by one than show it.
After the swearing-in ceremony she stood on the field and watched all the other cadets saying goodbye to their parents up in the stands. Her parents couldn’t afford the plane tickets or the time away from the ranch, so she headed inside. She understood why they didn’t come, but it still gave her a pang to watch everyone else.
As she turned in to an empty hallway, she was grabbed from behind, one hand clamped over her mouth while another guy pulled her hands behind her back and duct-taped them, then took her feet and carried her farther away, down another empty corridor.
She fought them, struggling against them, kicking, bucking, trying to bite the hand over her mouth. Her hat fell off, and her neatly pinned bun came undone. She knew what was coming if she didn’t get away. But she wasn’t getting anywhere fighting like this.
As hard as it was, she tamped down panic and quit fighting. Best to save her energy for an opportunity. They had to put her down at some point. But her heart was pounding triple time.
“Back in Memphis we call boys who pick on girls punk-ass cowards,” a deep voice called from behind them. His smooth Southern drawl made it seem as if he were just having a nice conversation.
The upperclassmen holding her halted and switched their attention to the young cadet, and so did Alex.
With his arms folded across his chest, he leaned against the lockers with a nonchalance that bordered on cocky.
“What’d you say, boy?” one of her captors asked.
The Memphis madman pushed off the lockers and unfolded his arms. “I believe I called you punk-ass cowards.” He raised a cocky brow to match his grin.
“Boy, you get the hell out of here and mind your own business,” warned one, but his hold on her feet loosened as he spoke. This was her chance.
She kicked backward with her steel-toed boot and heard the satisfying crack of one captor’s knee, and his howl of pain. As he let go of her mouth, she turned and head-butted his nose as hard as she could. Yes! He was down.
She turned to see Memphis man had the upperclassman on the ground, beating his face to a pulp.
“Okay, that’s enough. Hey!”
Finally Memphis looked at her, his dogged expression dissolving into a blank look of confusion. He glanced back down at the bloodied face he’d almost pulverized and then back at her. “You okay?”
Alex blinked at the pure beauty of the man. Even in his desert camo fatigues and a buzz cut, he was all golden hair and light blue eyes.
“Can you untape my hands?” She hated that her voice
