Navy Brat
Page 16

 Debbie Macomber

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"Hello," she answered breathlessly, nearly tearing the phone off the wall in her eagerness to get to it in time. While her breathing returned to normal, she was forced to listen to a twenty-second campaign from a professional carpet-cleaning company.
By the time she replaced the receiver, Erin was shaking with irritation. Not because she was angry with the salesperson, but simply because the caller hadn’t been Brand.
He’d left two weeks earlier, and she’d heard from him twice by phone. A handful of letters had arrived, and although she treasured each one, she found something important was lacking in this second batch. Something Erin couldn’t quite put her finger on. Each letter was filled with details of his life, but she felt Brand was holding back a part of himself from her, protecting his heart in much the same way she was shielding hers.
She’d written him a number of times herself, but she’d always been careful about what she told him. Anyone reading her letters would assume she and Brand were nothing more than good friends.
After he’d left the second time, she’d battled with the right and wrong of continuing a long-distance relationship. Over the years she’d repeatedly promised herself she wouldn’t allow this very thing to happen, yet here she was involved with a navy man! Her principles had vanished like topsoil in a flash flood. Past experience had taught her that Brand wouldn’t give up on her, and frankly, she hadn’t the strength to sever things on her own.
Her plan was to subtly phase herself out of his life. But the strategy had backfired on her. Each day she found herself hungering for word from him, convinced this separation was far more difficult than the one before.
Erin dreamed of Brand that night. He’d come to her when she was in bed, warm and cozy, missing him dreadfully. Slipping under the covers, he’d reached for her, his eyes wide with unspoken need. His kisses were hot and hungry as he buried his mouth in hers.
In the beginning, Erin had tried to hold back, not wanting the kisses to deepen for fear of where they would lead. Gradually, without Brand ever saying a word, she felt herself opening to him. She was lost in the wonder of his arms, and he seemed to be equally absorbed in hers. Both seemed on the brink of being found, of discovering heaven.
His body had moved over hers, his skin hot to the touch and as smooth as velvet. The clothes that had been a protective barrier between them seemed to melt away. Bare, heated skin had met bare, heated skin, and they’d both sighed at the mysterious joy found in such simple pleasure.
His hands caressed her, his touch light and unbelievably gentle. His kisses robbed her of her sanity, and when he moved above her, she parted her thighs and moaned in welcome.
"Do you like this?" he whispered close to her ear.
"Oh… yes," she assured him.
His hands cupped her buttocks while his kiss raked her mouth. By the time he finished, Erin was panting and weak with longing. "Make love to me," she pleaded. "Brand, please, don’t make me wait… not again."
In response, he lowered his sleek, muscular body to hers. Thrilled and excited, Erin opened to him, wanting him so badly she clawed at his back, needing him to hurry and give her what she craved.
To her dismay, he didn’t enter her. She squirmed and closed her legs around the hot staff of his manhood, arching and buckling as he began to move, sliding between her thighs, the friction moistened by her excitement and need.
"Brand," she pleaded again, her voice hoarse as she clutched at him, breathing hard and fast. "Give me what I want."
"No…" His voice was that of a man in torment.
"Yes." She thought to outwit him, and she rotated her hips so that his thrust met the apex of her womanhood. If he were to continue, penetration couldn’t be avoided, and he would fill her the way she craved. Arching her neck, she lifted her hips, coaxing him to completion, wanting him so much she couldn’t think clearly.
"Please," she begged, tilting her hips higher and higher, but he stopped short. "I want to feel all of you…. Oh, Brand…"
"No…no…" He sounded like a man pounding against the gates of heaven, lost for all eternity. "We can’t… It isn’t right, not now, not yet. Soon," he promised. "Soon."
"We can… we must."
Her cries and pleas seemed to have no effect on him, and try as she might with her body, pushing her hips forward, inviting him, even demanding that he give her what she sought, did no good.
He was full and hard, and he teased her until a violent release delivered her physically from the prison of unfulfilled desire. She lay panting, her eyes closed, physically relieved but emotionally starving.
It was then that Erin had woken.
For a long while, she stared up at the ceiling, her head spinning, her heart pounding. She’d never been one to put a lot of stock in dreams, but this one had been so vivid, so real, that she couldn’t help being affected.
This was the way it would be with Brand. It wasn’t that he’d cruelly refuse to make love to her, but he’d never be able to satisfy the deep inner longings of her soul.
She required more than he could ever supply.
And they both knew it.
Each day that followed, Erin reassured herself nothing good would be accomplished by loving Brand. She’d made a decent life for herself, and she wasn’t going to leave the only security she’d ever found because a few hormones refused to let her forget she was a woman.
She repeated the same tired arguments to herself in the mirror every morning and then went about her day. But when the nights arrived, her dreams were filled with loving Brand. Not all her dreams were wild sexual romps. When they did come, she found herself left frustrated and miserable. More often, her nights would be full of memories of him and the scant time they had spent together. Brand and she would be walking, hand in hand, along the beach together, talking, laughing, appreciating the love they’d discovered in each other. Then Brand would take her in his arms and kiss her until her mouth was moist and swollen. His eyes would delve into hers while his hands tenderly brushed the red curls from the side of her face.
They’d kiss, and their lips would cling, then kiss again, slowly, lazily, savoring each other.
Each morning, when Erin woke, it was the ending.
Each night, when she climbed beneath the sheets, was the beginning.
* * *
Stunned, Brand sat at his desk, reading over the same words two and three times. He felt numb. He’d been assigned duty aboard the command ship USS Blue Ridge. The Blue Ridge was the flagship of the Seventh Fleet and was being deployed in the western Pacific. Tour of duty – six months.
This couldn’t have come at a worse time for him. Without a doubt, he knew he was going to lose Erin.
There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
A feeling of helplessness and frustration engulfed him like a tidal wave.
He’d left Seattle with matters unsettled, but that couldn’t be avoided. He’d continued to write her every day since, and all he’d gotten in return were chatty letters that didn’t say a damn thing about what she was feeling or thinking. He might as well be corresponding with a troop of Girl Scouts. Reading Erin’s letters was like reading the newspaper. Just the facts, listed as unemotionally as possible. She even signed off with "Best Wishes." Well, Brand had a few wishes of his own, but Erin didn’t seem to be interested in fulfilling any of those.
"Six months," he said aloud. It might as well be an eternity. Erin would refuse to wait for him; she’d made that clear from the first. She’d start dating other men, and the thought produced an ache that cut through his heart and his pride.
Although Brand had made light of it when she’d brought up this Neal character, he’d been jealous as hell. When he’d learned Neal was a figment of her imagination, the relief he’d felt was overwhelming.
Erin was a rare jewel, undiscovered and unappreciated by those around her. At first glance, few would have declared her beautiful. Her hair was a little too red, her nose a bit too sharp, her mouth a tad too full, for her beauty to be considered classic. But upon closer examination, she was a precious pearl, worth selling everything he owned to possess.
Brand understood from the things she’d told him how seldom she dated. She was endearingly shy. Warm, gracious, caring.
And Brand loved her.
He loved her so much he hadn’t been able to function properly since he’d returned from his evaluation assignment at Sand Point.
He had to tell her about being assigned sea duty, of course, and he tried doing so in a letter several times. After attempting to phrase it a number of ways, jokingly, seriously, thoughtfully and playfully, Brand resigned himself to contacting her by phone.
He delayed it, probably longer than he should have.
He announced it flat out, without preamble.
And waited.
"Well," he said, speaking into the receiver. "Say something."
"Bon voyage."
"Come on, Erin, I’m serious."
"So am I."
She had this flippant way about her when she was upset and trying not to show it. Brand had anticipated it and allowed for her sarcasm, but she was precariously close to angering him.
"You want me to act surprised?" Erin questioned. "I can’t find it in me. We both knew sooner or later that you’d get your shipping orders. You are in the navy. You should expect sea duty."
"I want you to wait for me." There, he’d said it. He hadn’t softened it with romantic words or sent the message attached to a dozen red roses. Just the plain truth. These were going to be the longest months of his life, simply because he’d never left a woman he loved behind until now. He didn’t like the feeling. Not one damn bit.
Erin didn’t respond.
"Did you hear me?" he asked her, raising his voice. "I want you to wait for me."
"No." She said it so matter-of-factly, as if the answer took little, if any, thought or consideration.
That pricked Brand’s pride, but he should have been used to it by now with Erin. Offhand he could have named two or three women who would have broken into tears when they learned he’d been assigned sea duty. In a few cases, the women had promised undying faithfulness and loyalty. They’d stood on the pier weeping as he’d pulled out of port, and they’d been there happy and excited upon his return. Brand hadn’t expected the same reaction from Erin – in fact, hysterical women were a turnoff as far as he was concerned – but he needed something more than what Erin was offering him.
"So in other words you plan to date someone else?" he demanded.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"That’s none of your business."
"The hell it isn’t." His voice was raised and angry. "I’m in love with you, Erin MacNamera, and – "
"I didn’t ask you to love me. I’m not even sure I want you to love me. Go ahead, go off and play navy for the next six months, but I’m telling you right now, Brand Davis, I won’t sit home twiddling my thumbs waiting for you."