Having His Cake and Eating It Whole

Having His Cake and Eating It Whole – 4
Part 4 of 4

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Twenty-nine Months Later – Mission Fall Out
Washington, DC

Mac walked out of the conference at the Watergate Hotel. The meeting itself had been long and
grueling and she had to stay behind to brief Creswell on the activities at JAG HQ. It was late and
she had a lot of phone calls to make before she could shut it down for the night. The billet at JAG
HQ was hard work and there were a lot of hours – never enough HOME TIME, but she loved it –
loved being in control.

"Colonel?" called Captain Martin (a colleague from San Diego who had also been at the meeting).

"Yes Captain." She turned.

"I wanted to give you my congratulations …married life appears to agree with you."

"Thank you."

"Your husband is a very lucky man." He extended his hand warmly.

Mac blushed. "Thank you."

The captain excused himself after suggesting dinner while he was in town.

She looked around the lobby as if she was expecting someone, but there was no one. She just
had a feeling she was being watched. She reached for her phone and realized that she had left a
file she needed in the conference room.

She was almost back to the room when an arm came out of nowhere, grabbed her around her
waist, pulled her into an empty room. It was Harm. He pushed her up against the wall and stuck
his tongue down her throat. He had shown up at the meeting very late. Something must have
come up to prevent him from coming --- to that meeting that was.

"Married life … my ass." He said huskily. His hands were pulling at her uniform – tearing open
her blouse and unsnapping her bra.

"Harm … No …" She protested vainly.

"You look tamed … contented… muzzled…" He latched onto one breast with is mouth and
brought his hand up to work her other nipple.

"Harm …" Her weak voice held no real weight and the moan she could not contain egged him on.

"When was the last time you were properly fucked?" His mouth was on hers again – tongue
seeking, probing and forcing his way in. He pushed up her skirt and started pulling at her hose.
He knew his way around her body like no one ever did. "When was the last time you called out to
thank God?"

She could not help herself or restrain herself – her protest was forgotten. She gave back 10 fold.
She dropped what she was carrying, met his searching tongue with hers, fought to unbuckle his
belt, struggled with the zipper and would not stop until his hard dick was in her hands.

"I could smell you …" He mumbled into her neck. "I could taste you … "

His hand finally got through her layers of clothing and found his goal. She let out a loud moan as
he rubbed her clit and pushed his fingers into her. She grabbed on to his freed dick and pulled
hard.

"I need you … in me …" She bit his lip. "Now." She ordered.

He plunged himself deep into her. Her legs wrapped around him and she stifled her groan with a
bite to his shoulder. Thrust after thrust she bit harder. The pleasure and pain was intense for
Harm – exactly what he had been yearning for.

"Fuck me!" She demanded.

He wouldn't hold out much longer. He pulled her to him tightly and bucked into her with every
millimeter of his shaft looking for the elusive spot of hers.

She let out a cry that wouldn't be held back. "OH GOD." She tightened her grip with her thighs
pushing her pubic bone into his. "OH MY FUCKING GOD!" She groaned.

He found her spot.

They came. Came together. Came hard. The wall was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

She buried her face in his neck. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't let him see how much
she needed what he was giving and how much she missed it.

Harm won his point --- married life was too agreeable for Mac … too tame. Falling asleep in the
arms of a life partner every night had its advantages. But as the years stretched out before her it
was becoming clear that her sexual desire was more than for comfortable predictable intercourse
before the news or quick morning 'regular' during the 10 minute 'snooze' period before they
started their day. Harm had always believed that married life – as Mac described it - would not be
enough for her as it would never be enough for him – not since that first night they were together
– but he didn't said anything to stop the wedding or to prevent her from reaching her stated goals.

Mac caught her breath. "We can't do this any more." She panted.

"You said that last time." He kissed her.

She pushed him away. "I mean it."

"Mac!" He protested.

She would have shut him down, but her phone rang. She pulled herself completely out of his
embrace, straightened her uniform and answered her phone.

Harm quickly zipped his pants and slipped from the room. He would ignore her statement as he
had all the others.

~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~

Mac arrived home shortly thereafter. She was supposed to go back to the office, but she needed
to shower before anything else. The kind of encounter she had with Harm that day always left her
horny and showering was more about finishing the job than it was about washing him off. She
would not give up her WaterPic showerhead for anything. Lovers and husbands come and go –
but her WaterPic Family had been a constant companion since she was 25.

That wasn't the first time Harm had come to her like that. A handful, maybe a dozen times in the
past fifteen months (the first year back in DC there were none – she believed that it had ended in
San Diego) but since the engagement and subsequent wedding it seemed to be more frequent
and increasingly more daring, public and closer to home. Each time she swore it would be the
last; each time she had told him afterward "no more" but they wound up in bed (or something)
and one of them left before the words were acknowledged. She didn't blame him entirely; but it
had to stop. He was probably waiting for her, waiting for her next denial, waiting for the next
seduction, waiting to prove that her words and her actions didn't match. She would be strong …
stand firm … hold her ground. It had to end. She made up her mind. She would not go to him,
never again. She would write him a letter, send him an email or just cut it off without a word. He
would just have to get the message.

But Harm was not one to take a hint or read between the lines. He was the kind that needed a
baseball bat over the head. She couldn't take the chance that he would 'molest' her like that
again; she couldn't take the chance that she would let him or worse entice him. So she needed
to make it clear. Leave nothing misunderstood. Leave nothing to chance. She would tell him
that night – face to face – and end it. All she would have to do is not let him touch her, get near
her or breath on her.

A text came in on her phone:

Wife - Dinner with Richard. Love You --- Husband.

'HUSBAND'??? 'WIFE'? She cringed. "Richard." She said to the empty room. "Please."

She had gotten just what she asked for in a husband and only slightly more than she expected.
He was open, honest, real. He wasn't a push over nor did he let her define their entire life. There
was real give and take and compromise that both could live with. It was a relationship that she
been expecting, anticipating, planning her whole life, but there were still some surprises. It was
the little things that made her go "hmmmmmm" that were the interested part. For example:
'Husband' always referred to himself by his relationship to her, never by his name. He rarely if
ever used the phone; he preferred notes, emails, texting and messages sent through third parties
(his preferred). "Please tell her, her husband called." She didn't mind it, but it was odd – odd that
a husband didn't take liberties with the phone lines or dropping by the office. He also treated her
like a best friend and a roommate as well as a life partner. He was sentimentally romantic at
times and made sure they had plenty of time together in spite of their ridiculous work schedules.
And when things would come up; he didn't feel the need to clear it with her as it was happening.
He just made sure that she was informed. He knew she wouldn't question or be annoyed at a
last minute change of routine – they never actually made plans, and he was right. She did trust
him. But it was still odd. Did they know each other that well? Did they trust each other so
implicitly that nothing could rattle them? Was their marriage so stable? No. It wasn't.

Their year-long courtship started shortly after she arrived in Washington and was right out of a
romance novel. It was as exciting as if they had first met and as comfortable as if they had
known each other all their lives. She had always said that she would never marry anyone unless
they could be in a relationship for a minimum of a year. A year and a day later, he proposed. It
was amazing how good their communication was. He really talked to her – clearly, openly,
honestly and sincerely. Nothing was hidden and no topic was off the table – completely different
from anything she and Harm had experience at JAG or during their two-year fuck-fest. It was
also very romantic. There were dates for dinner, movies, basketball games etc. He didn't even
attempt to kiss her good night until the third date and waited for a trip to the mountains to see the
leaves change before he asked for any more. She was totally swept off her feet. The love-
making was intense and intimate – not fevered or raw. The intimacy actually scared her at times
– she was nearly brought to tears. When he asked her to marry him it was very romantic: there
was a ring, moonlight, ocean breezes and a declaration of love and a promise of a future that
actually did bring tears to her eyes. She never expected anyone to be so open, honest and real
with her. She never wanted to open up to someone they way she did to him. She accepted his
proposal on the spot and hadn't yet regretted it.

It wasn't perfect. There were several periods since the relationship began when they wouldn't
actually speak for days. They had such opposite schedules or one or the other was out of town:
hence the reason for the notes and messages. In the beginning she liked that they weren't
together 24/7. She still liked her independence and being involved with someone who didn't
demand all her free time. She loved that he would send notes or emails rather than just pick up a
phone. It was as if he liked having evidence of their relationship. However things changed after
they said; "I do." The separations were getting very old. She didn't feel married. If she were
really honest with herself, he hadn't changed at all. What had changed was her expectation. She
had had an image in her head since she was a kid about what a good stable marriage would look
and feel like. She got what she wished for, but she was still hungry. She was living her dream
and it wasn't the dream come true it should have been. Incidents like what had happened that
day only added fuel to that fire. She was restless. Enter Harmesque encounters.

She was having a very difficult time dealing with the shady - seedy side to her life. She was
confused by it – wanting it and being repulsed by it. Why would she take part in it? Why did she
need it? The hardest for her to reconcile was her lack of guilt. Maybe her conscience was clear
because she didn't seek it out and did claim to want to stop it – albeit weakly? Why didn't she
feel guilt or remorse? Why did she only feel embarrassed – as if her husband had found her
masturbating in the bathroom after sex and laughed as her insatiable need? And the hardest of
all … why was her heart not into stopping it?

She reread the text on her phone. A thought came to her that disturbed her more than she was
willing to admit. What if she weren't the only one restless? What if her husband had extramarital
needs that to be met? A realization washed over her: her husband had a lover. It made her sick
to her stomach. She would not let her marriage go down the drain; she would fight for it.

She changed into jeans without showering, brushed out her hair and headed over to Harm's
apartment. He was expecting her and she had a few things to get off her chest. She was
determined to save her marriage.

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That weekend in San Diego they decided to end it. They decided that the secret, sordid sexual
side of their relationship was not in their best interest for the long or the short term. For the first
two plus years it was regulated by distance, but since they were about to be in the same zip code
it had to stop. They actually agreed on that. And it did stop for slightly more than a year.

Then it started again. She was out of town at a conference. Harm came out of nowhere and
pretended to be surprised to see her. No one at the conference thought any thing of it; they even
had a very civil dinner with some colleagues. They said good night; he was supposed to be
headed back to London on the red eye. She had gone to her room and was drawing a bath for
herself. She caught sight of her nakedness in the mirror. She had gained weight. Her hips were
rounder, her stomach wasn't flat and her breasts were fuller and heavier. She looked more like a
voluptuous satisfied wife than a lean green fighting marine/object of men's unquenchable desire.
She didn't chide herself for he weight gain. She was in her 40's … age caught up with everyone
sooner or later. She was far from fat and she was very nearly engaged. Everyone knew that a
woman in a relationship had a harder time maintaining her weight than a single woman. After all,
what was dating without dinners, lunches and quick coffees? There was never a complaint from
her 'boyfriend' but Harm did say something in jest about her appetite at dinner that night. At first
she didn't realize that he wasn't talking about her appetite for food. She didn't mind the weight
gain as much as she did the 'satisfied' look. She was content, complacent and … kept. It
unnerved her - Mac had never known what it was to be satisfied … ever.

She watched as the steam softened the edges of her frame. Her fingers went to her mouth and
she sucked her thumb in between her full pouting lips. She harkened back to a time when her
mouth would be swollen with so much kissing and wondered if they would ever be bruised like
that again. Her nipples hardened as she remembered times gone by. She caressed them
remembering. She felt the full weight of her breasts in her hands and let her thumbs rub the nips
to full height. How long had it been since they were given the attention the kind of rough,
desperate attention they had grown used to? She had given up the Brazilian waxing and had a
pussy full of pubic hair perfect for petting. Her boyfriend liked it that way. She slid her hand down
to her curls and pressed into her folds. She was wet. She opened her thighs and pressed
deeper into her self – it was going to be a long lonely night. She was reminded of the number of
times Harm and she had met at conferences, the myriad of hotels, the hours of tele-connections
and the sex. She remembered the SEX. She had to admit she missed it: wild, torrid, desperate
and passionate. She wondered if that was why Harm came – did he come for the sex but
changed his mind. Things were different. She was different. Did he come hoping they hadn't
changed, and left because they had? Would she ever feel that kind of ecstasy - that kind of
unbridled thrill ever again?

A soft knock came to her door. It didn't occur to her that it might be Harm looking for the same
kind of satisfaction. She thought about not answering it, but something told her she should. She
slipped into her silk robe – the one she took on trips with her. She called it her 'travel robe' but
she knew better. She bought it after that afternoon in Chicago with Harm years ago. It was the
only thing she wanted next to her skin after she have been fucked raw when every inch of her
skin was receptive and yearning for more. She opened the door and before she realized what
was happening, he was on her. Harm – he had come back – or never left – or planned it. She
didn't care – she wanted him, she needed him and nothing – no decorum or propriety would stop
her. It would have taken a fire hose to get them apart. He left in the middle of the night before
she had the opportunity to truly appreciate all the rules that had been broken and put a stop to
them. For the first time in more than a year, she ached from too much … and wondered how in
hell she was to give up how it made her feel.

There were three more times over the next several months. Once he lured her to a conference
that she didn't need to attend. She left at midnight after writing a note that said "stop". One more
time was when he got her to come to his apartment under false pretenses. And the last time was
a bizarre seduction that was started at a dinner at the Roberts' house. He kissed her in the
nursery and finger fucked her inches from an orgasm – denying her the prize. He had left shortly
there after. She followed him to his apartment as if she had been summoned. She couldn't help
herself. It was an incredible night and she walked slowly for days, but again before she left she
declared an end to it. He nodded and smiled.

Then came the engagement – she and Harm didn't discuss the assignations. She believed it was
over – unceremoniously, completely over without a word. She found herself anxious and troubled
– particularly about the loss and about the life she was about to embark on. Her desire for the
'fuck' was increasingly consuming her the closer it came to the wedding day. She believed it was
cold feet and tried to fight it. But about a month before the wedding she arranged to meet him at
a small coffee shop by his apartment. She was late and came out of uniform – no bra, loose skirt
and a flimsy shirt that was buttoned one short of being descent. She couldn't look him in the eye
– her intention was so obvious. What if he refused her? They chatted mindlessly over coffee as
he waited for her to make her move. She put her hand on his thigh, and made some inane
babble about something that was supposed to pertain to work. He allowed it and prolonged the
conversation so she would not remove her hand. When she slid her hand up further to his crotch,
he opened his legs it to allow her to stroke his hardened dick through his pants. Eventually she
was forced to make the overt move. "Can we go to your place?" she whispered into his ear as
she rubbed her breast on his arm. She could barely contain herself during the short walk to his
place, and couldn't wait the short ride up the elevator. She pulled him to her and kissed him
deeply. She directed his hand up her skirt to her naked wet pussy. "I need you." She whispered.
He did not make her beg or explain; he did not reproach her in anyway. For the next week they
hooked up every afternoon for little more than an hour. It was some of the best sex they had ever
had. It was hard to deny that it was a reaction to the impending wedding – desperate and timely.
Neither one suggested that the wedding get called off, but Mac thought about it a lot. Then it just
stopped and nothing was ever discussed.

After the wedding she had assumed it was over; she had even convinced herself that it wasn't
that important and what she had was more than she could ever hope for. But one night she was
working late at the office. Harm came to her – unceremoniously - and tagged her on the
admiral's couch (that office would always be Chegwidden's). Actually it wasn't just the couch, it
was the desk, the chair and on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was incredible – hot, sexy,
dangerous and exciting. No longer was there a question; she needed that kind of pleasure in her
life – the kind of gratification that does not come from a husband or a fantasy in the shower; the
kind that only comes from a lover who is willing to throw caution to the wind.

Since then (for the past three months) there had been five other times (one being that encounter
at the Watergate). Her desire for him was screwing with her head – how could she love and
respect her husband, be happy with the life they had made together, look forward to a future with
children and old age and yet need a lover who would FUCK HER raw? She was a decorated
colonel, a loving wife, a respected member of the community and soon (with any luck) and new
adoptive mother. She was not some nymphomaniac that needed to be fucked to feel alive. What
was so wrong with her that her husband wasn't enough? She had no idea what Harm was
thinking or what NEED it filed of his – typically with Harm it was about giving up something. He
never liked to give up anything. Just like flying. But it didn't matter, Harm would have to learn to
live without – and so would she.

One more resolve made. Would this one stick?

~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~

When she arrived the music was on but Harm was nowhere to be seen. She paced as she
waited for him. He clearly would be back she just hoped he would listen to her, agree to end it all
finally, but she knew better than to really believe that would happen.

He came through the door with a bunch of Irises. She turned to greet him hoping to keep her
distance, but he was too fast. He encircled her waist with his long arm and pulled her close for a
knee-weakening kiss. "Baby." He smiled slyly. "You smell great."

"I am not here for this." She told him pushing away from him.

He walked past her to the kitchen. "Then why are you here?"

"Harm, this has to stop." She announced.

"Why?"

"WHY?" She repeated.

"Yes … tell me why." He cut the flowers and put them into the vase. "These are for you." He
said casually as he set them on the counter.

She shook her head. This was not going to be quick or easy. "Why are you doing this?"

"This?" He asked. "By this do you mean … "

"Yes … I mean all of it … do you know how easily it would be to get caught … do you know what
kind of fall out there would be? Not to mention the ludicrousness ---"

"Is that what you are worried about?" He asked. "Getting caught? How it would look ---"

"Creswell and about 30 other people we know were not 10 feet away this afternoon … what if one
of them had walked in or seen us – hell heard us?"

"Heard YOU!" He reminded her that she – not he – was the screamer. "And they didn't."

"Harm … I'm serious … this has to stop … you can't do this to me any more." She cried. "We
live here … this would be a killer for our careers … and I can't believe that it helps ---."

"What?" He stopped her. "You don't believe it helps what?" He stepped closer to her. "Is that
why you came here tonight? … to tell me it was over?"

"Yes." Her breath caught in her throat.

He leaned in and inhaled deeply. "You didn't even shower before you came." He declared
victoriously.

"I came here to stop it." She ignored the showering comment and denied his triumphant claim.

"If you really wanted to stop it … why come at all?" He asked.

She looked away but did not grant his point. She should have stayed home, sent a note.

He came around behind her but stayed very close. "I think you came here tonight because you
want this …" He kissed her neck. "… You want the secret rendezvous … the forbidden fruit … "
He smoothed his hands down her sides. "… And that scares you … It scares you that married life
might be too tame for you … " His hands were on her hips pulling her close to him. "…Too
predictable … too safe … too missionary." He thrust his erection into her back.

"Harm." She protested weakly.

He pulled her shirt free of her jeans, put his warm palms against her goose-bumped waist. He
slid them up and unsnapped her bra to massage her naked breasts. "Damn, but I do love these."
He kneaded and squeezed them loving the look of his hands under her shirt on her breasts. "I
have been thinking about them all day." He whispered. "About what they taste like, how they feel
in my hands, my mouth … how hard the nipples get when I suck them between my teeth and rub
my tongue over them." He again rubbed his hardened dick against her butt and kissed her neck.

"Harm." She squirmed into his caress rather than away from it.

"You don't want me to stop … you like these impromptu assignations." He sucked her earlobe
and pinched her nipples. "You like the danger of getting caught." He bit into her neck. "You live
for this." He pulled her legs open and rubbed her nub through her jeans.

"No…" She croaked.

"Liar." He breathed. "You need this … you need ..." He slipped his hand down the front of her
pants, under her panties and to her hot wet spot. "You have been thinking about me too, I see."
He rubbed her clit.

She stiffened. "No." She pushed his hand off her crotch roughly. "No … I don't … that is …
THIS is not what I want."

He let go of her and stepped back.

She looked shamed at her overreaction.

"It's our anniversary." He told her after a moment allowing her to straighten her self out.

"Excuse me?"

"Five years ago … right here … on this very floor … you opened yourself up to me in ways that I
could never imagine."

She looked away.

"And now you are denying that?"

"No." She slipped her bra off without removing her shirt (his favorite move); her hardened nipples
peaked through the soft material. "I'm not denying it … I'm saying that there is more to life."

"I am not asking for 24/7 … I am not even asking that you give up … anything." He sat down.
"Just don't deny this."

"I told you it would have to stop." She reminded him.

"And I told you that I would give up nothing." He reminded her.

"You'll never change … no compromise … no meeting in the middle … it's all or nothing." She
declared.

"Not all or nothing … ALL Period." He smiled. "Anything less is unacceptable."

She shook her head. "Do you think I need this? … I do NOT … Why do you?" She asked
pointedly. "This is sordid … tawdry … it's cheap and sleazy and … and … and …"

He stood up. "Fine.

"Fine?" She tossed back at him.

"Not going to fight you any more, Mac." He shut down. "You either accept it and work it into your
life … or you don't."

"Accept it? This is wrong … this is … this is …" She didn't know how to describe it. "I am not
some ----."

"I know exactly what and who you are … and don't ever forget that." He grabbed his coat off the
back of the chair.

"What in the hell does that mean?" She demanded to know.

"It means that you can't deny what we both know to be true."

"Harm, just what do you think is …?"

"You say we are done – fine … DONE." He clapped his hands. "Slide the key under the door
after you lock up." He shook his head. "Ya know … the more things change … the more they go
back to the way they were. He shook his head in disgust. "Happy Anniversary, Mac."

With that he left. Mac looked around the empty apartment and felt that she had made the biggest
mistake of her life. As she did she thought about her last thought: 'Harm would have to learn to
live without.' What if he didn't? What if he found some other woman to fill those primal needs?
How far would he go to get his rocks off? How far would she have to go to ensure that he
wouldn't? She looked around the apartment. She wondered how many other women he brought
there. How much of what they did together was about the other and how much of it was about
the raw physical sex of it. She shook those thoughts away. She had no right and no reason to
be jealous. She had enough problems. But what if …

~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~ ~ | ~

She arrived home and the house was dark. 'Husband' was in bed and at the very least
pretending to be asleep. She slipped out of her jeans and slid in spooning up behind him.

Mac loved being married. She loved knowing that people accepted her as someone's wife. She
loved knowing that she had a partner in life – she loved introducing him as her husband. She
loved sleeping in the same bed and waking up every morning together. It had only been four
months since they were officially living together, but she had to admit – married life was
everything she had expected it to be – safe, secure, satisfying and routine. Even their love-
making was routine: two mornings a week (usually Wednesday and Thursday), Saturday night
and Sunday afternoon before dinner with friends. They had a couple romantic weekends away
and some post-marital dates with flowers, dancing and real seduction that rivaled anything they
had before they got married. She felt loved and attended to, but it was not the kind of sex she
had been used to during those two years in San Diego nor did it bring her to the heights of
ecstasy that she had experienced in her assignations – for good and bad. The sporadic
encounters with Harm kept those days and that need alive in her – something she had claimed
she wanted to forget.

She curled into her partner in life.

He turned to embrace her but clearly didn't want to wake up. "Late night?" He mumbled. He
sniffed at her neck. "You showered." He announced

"Went for a run and worked out for about an hour." She said honestly. She did go to the gym
after she left Harm's – she had some pent up energy to get out.

"Have an early morning meeting." He kissed the top of her head. "Need sleep." He rolled away
from her.

She was stunned. She actually needed to talk. She got up and went to the living room.

He found her there around 3AM. "What's going on?" He asked from the bedroom door yawning
and scratching.

"I don't know any more." She didn't look at him.

"Hungry … dinner didn't go off as planned." He said snidely. He went to the kitchen to get a
piece of fruit and came back. He took a seat in the chair away from her. She still wasn't looking
at him. "Are we fighting?" He asked.

"I have no idea … I don't even know how to bring this up with you."

He yawned and stretched. "Well, when you do …" He started to get up to leave. He was clearly
annoyed. Not his typical supportive husband mode, more like the denied lover he was hours
before.

"That's not fair." She claimed.

"Why do I have to be fair?" He stated.

"Harm … look, about this afternoon … tonight ---."

"No, you look." He turned back to her. "I don't ever want to discuss it … THAT … it either IS or
ISN'T … but we won't talk about it."

"On whose authority."

"Mine."

"Harm, come on --!"

"No." He stopped her. "If you … you of all people … don't understand that … then no amount of
discussion or debate will make any difference."

"So you are saying we can't talk about ---."

"We can talk about us … here and now … we can talk about our marriage and our work … we
can talk about our future and how we feel about all of it … hell, I will even talk to you about the
damn color of the towels in the bathroom … but that one little piece … that one aspect exists in a
vacuum --- it either lives because we both want it to, or it dies."

"You don't think that is part of our marriage?"

"No … no I don't … in fact I go to great lengths and a great deal of expense to keep the two
separate."

Mac was appalled by his answer. "Fine … two can play at that game." She barked. "Give her
up." She demanded.

"What?" He truly didn't hear her.

"I know all about you and your lover … give her up … or pack your bags."

"You can't be serious." He almost laughed.

"Dead serious." And she was.

"Sarah ---"

"My husband has a lover!" She cried. "I will not tolerate that … I will divorce you on the spot."

It was ludicrous. "Will you cite this extra martial affair as the reason for the divorce?" He snarled.

"I will."

"Would love to see that." He laughed. "Yeah … you could hire a private detective … have
pictures taken… use them in court." He glared at her. "Would love to see you explain the
resemblance between my wife and my lover to the judge."

"Go to hell." She snapped. "Look Harm, if you need this … then I don't want to be married to you
… I don't want to know you."

"You are not divorcing me." He said calmly.

"Another Order of Rabb?"

"Baby, you need it as much as I do … so don't try to make me out to be something that you are
not."

"Excuse me!!!" She was appalled. "You think I need to be fucked like a whore…?"

"HEY!" He yelled. No one would call his lover a whore even his wife. Then it occurred to him,
maybe she felt that way. "Is that how you feel … like a whore?"

She looked away.

"Answer me!" He demanded.

She shook her head. It wasn't whorish that she was feeling it was out of control. Mac hated
feeling out of control.

"If you felt that way it was not coming from me." He defended himself.

"It is just wrong Harm." She stated. "We are married … we shouldn't be attacking each other in
public places or sneaking off to apartments across town to have sordid, depraved, whorish sex.
Tears were streaming down her angry face.

He took a breath and started again gently. "Did you feel that way …" He paused. "Did you feel
that when we were stationed apart? … When we would go to amazingly lengths just to be
together for a couple of hours … or the thousands of dollars we spent on long distance calls…"

She stopped him. "Yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I did think it was wrong … but I wasn't
married … I answered to no one." She turned completely to him. "If I can't explain it to myself,
how the hell will I explain it when we get sloppy and get caught."

He laughed. "Who is going to 'catch' us… your husband?" He smirked.

"Stop it Harm." She shook her head. "You are not two people … you are my husband, my friend,
my lover."

"But not THAT kind of lover." He nodded. "I get it." He shrugged.

"I don't understand." She stated. "Why can't we …"

"No." He cut her off before she could finish he sentence.

"Why not?"

"I will not pin you up against the wall or bend you over the couch and fuck you 'til you scream …
before I take the garbage out."

His crudeness made her wince but he had a point. Bringing that kind of sex home would tame it
or kill it altogether. She shook her head. "I can't Harm … no more." She stated as if she
understood his point, but still could not agree with it.

"Fine." He said evenly.

"I'm sorry." She said sincerely.

He sat down next to her. "Nothing to be sorry for … as I said it either lives because we both want
it to or it dies." He took her hand and pressed it warmly.

She thought for a moment and her thought from earlier came back. She took a moment to find
the right words. "What will you do with your fantasies?"

He wasn't clear what she was asking. "You can't be asking me not to fantasize about you."

"I am wondering what will happen when the need strikes you."

"I don't know." He wasn't being dense, he just really didn't know what she was asking and what
answer she was looking for.

She took a deep breath and asked point blank. "Would you find another lover?"

He nearly choked. "NO." He defended. "That is not an option."

She wanted to believe him.

"Look Sarah … I am happily married … very happily married … I just though we could be extra-
happily married … but if it doesn't do it for you … then that is fine too." He took her other hand
and turned her completely too him. "I love you Sarah … and … and THAT was never about the
sex perse … it was about you and me … it was about how you react to me and me to you … it
was about you coming alive in my hands in ways that are unbridled and for me too … if it is not
you and me … then there is no point to it." He smiled slightly. "OK? In order of importance in my
life … that ranks very low on the list … my marriage … in deed my entire relationship with you is
#1. I will never do anything that ruins that … including THAT."

She nodded. "Ok."

He kissed her and pulled her into his arms. He had meant what he said and he was sorry he was
so adamant about the other thing. It really wasn't that important, it was just so damned exciting
and erotic and he really did love her fighting her desire and then giving in. She did come a live in
his hands.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


The next four months flew by. There was no fall out from their decision except that their love-
making was more spontaneous and more passionate. But then again that could have been
because their work lives went crazy. They had no time for themselves much less each other –
the routine was totally blown out of the water. Harm had early morning meetings that lasted well
into the evenings and was called to London and Baghdad twice. Mac was also being pulled in
seven different directions. She had personnel issues in several offices and some potentially very
political nightmares to control.

Sometime toward the beginning of the third month she really started missing him and the
comfortable life they had been living. She went to bed alone and more often than not woke up
alone. She didn't fault him, but playing the understanding career wife was getting a little old. She
was tired of working as hard as they were working. She talked about it with a friend whose only
comment was "sucks doesn't it." They had decided that they could give up their careers and
follow the menfolk around the world as dutiful wives, or be grateful that they weren't truly single
and had good careers. The occasional was better than the non-existent that and the knowledge
that it wouldn't always be that way.

Resolve aside, Mac was still lonely and felt that there had to be something she could do. Her
loneliness reminded her of how she felt those years in San Diego. One morning she was getting
dressed for work and came across her green lace bra and garters. For some reason, she put
them on (she had a whole draw full of lingerie that she rarely ever wore). All day she thought of
him. Her thoughts turned very explicit and very erotic. She continued to wear her garters all
week – he was going to be out of town so there would be no chance of him misinterpreting. It
didn't help; in fact it made things worse. She missed her husband and her lover and she was
horny as hell.

On Friday she got an email from him saying that he could secure early afternoon but would have
to fly out the following day. He was hoping that she could get away early so they could have an
early dinner and catch up face to face. He even suggested going to her favorite restaurant that
she had dubbed 'their place' or offering to cook for her.

She quickly figured out that she could meet him and push the work she had to do to Sunday. She
hit reply and was about to say she would do the shopping and meet him at home. Instead she
found herself writing:

Husband –

I'm sorry; will not be able to meet you for dinner. Working
on the Commander Kathryn Richards courts martial. You'd
like her … the kind of client you could really get behind. We
are charging her with: unauthorized absence, solicitation,
conduct unbecoming and adultery. Maybe you could
defend her. Would love to go up against you in open court.
Anyway, it should last all afternoon and well into the late
evening. Don't wait up. How about lunch tomorrow before
you fly out?

- Wife

She read it over twice. She looked down at her key chain lying on the desk … she still had the
apartment key. Then she hit send. A smile crept across her face as she shut down for the day.


Harm's Office

He was finishing up the last few items that he needed to take care of before he secured when
Commander Melissa "Sissy" Lancaster knocked and entered.

"Harm, can you help me with this?" She asked in that obsequious voice that she saved for Harm.

"On my way out, Commander." He said distractedly.

Harm was continually annoyed with the liberties she took with rank, their working relationship and
the tentative friendship they had developed over the years. She was single, blonde and very
sexy (big blue eyes, Double D cup and legs that went on for days – HEY he was married, not
dead). She was exactly the kind of woman who used to turn his head, net a dinner invitation and
a seduction that keep him distracted for days – or at least until he obtained his objective and
maybe a week or two longer. She was nothing of substance and had only gotten by on her looks
(though there were no rumors or reports of her actually bedding any of the men she worked with).
He never understood why she chose the Navy when she could have been earning four times as
much and doing a third of the work in the private sector (he didn't think enough about it to ask).
She was actually a perfect trophy wife but to the best of his knowledge she had never been
married.

"Shouldn't take long, Captain." She smiled sweetly. He had done nothing to encourage her, but
Sissy didn't get the message. She took every opportunity to make suggestive remarks, be out of
uniform when ever they traveled together and to comment about his love life.

"Whatever it is, we can take care of it tomorrow on the plane." Harm looked up to close down his
email when he saw the message from Mac. A confused look came over his face.

"Something wrong Captain?" She started to come around the desk to see what he was looking
at.

Harm snapped his laptop closed. "Old friend." He said quickly. "An old friend is in town." He
still looked confused. "In a bit of trouble and needs my help."

"Thought you were taking your wife out for a romantic dinner." She cooed. He had never told her
what his plans were for that evening, just that he was going home.

"Mac will understand." He said more to himself than to her as he let a smile spread across his
face.

"Harm?" She asked.

"I need to go." He grabbed his briefcase and his computer. "See you on the plane." He left
everything else on his desk and nearly forgot his cover.


The Apartment

Mac arrived at the apartment directly from the office. She hadn't stopped home for anything and
hadn't really given herself any time to think or process at all. She hadn't even really decided if
would have preferred a night with her husband rather than an afternoon with her lover.

The apartment had an undeniable musty smell. That resonated with Mac. It had been a long
time since she had arranged that kind of assignation (it was usually Harm who arranged them –
back in the day).

She didn't know how much time she had but she had to prepare. She flipped the mattress quickly
and threw a sheet over it. She opened a window and turned on the air never stopping to wonder
why he had kept the place and kept the power on. The good news was that the refrigerator had
water the bad news was that the fruit that she had stored away four months prior had not
survived. Clearly he hadn't been back either. She checked the window expecting him to drive
up, but saw nothing. She laughed at herself as she wondered if he would park on a side street so
they wouldn't be detected.

She slipped out of her uniform and was glad that she was had worn her maroon silk bra and
garters. There was an old green silk shirt of Harm's hanging in the closet that she used as a
robe. She checked herself in the bathroom mirror. There was grey in her hair that just wasn't
taking the color the way it used to. There were lines on her face that sharpened her image and
she was definitely too heavy for her own mind. She was also very tired. She started to doubt she
could go through with it. Maybe they should have gone for an early dinner and home to their
marriage bed. They were too old for these kinds of games. She looked back up into her eyes.
She heard Harm enter the apartment and drop his brief case by the door. She couldn't contain
her smile. They weren't that old.

She framed herself in the bathroom doorway striking a pose with her back arched, the shirt
splayed open and her hand on her hip. She felt truly sexy.

"Hey." She called to him when he came into the bedroom.

He froze. "Hey yourself." He scanned her lustily up and down and licked his lips. She looked
fan-fucking-tastic.

"Glad you could make it." She ran a hand down the valley between her breasts lightly stroking
her right nipple to make it peak to attention.

"So am I." He sighed envying both her fingers and her breast.

"Where is your wife?" She asked taking a step into the room.

"Working … big case … should last all night." He unbuttoned his shirt. "The plans for dinner got
canceled."

"Sorry to hear that." She smiled slyly.

"So am I." He said honestly and for the first time he realized that he really was disappointed. He
was sincerely looking forward to enjoying her company over dinner, catching up, talking face to
face, taking a romantic walk along the water afterward and then going home and making sweet
love in their bed until he had to leave for the plane. "So am I." He repeated.

"Just as well." She was a little confused by his expression. "Your wife is getting fat."

"I can't agree to that." He pulled his shirt free.

"A good and loyal husband?" She commented.

"I am … but I don't agree with your assessment in any case."

"You like a woman you can hang on to?" She asked.

He took his shirt off and tossed it over the chair. He didn't respond.

"And you will hang on to your wife?" She pushed.

"Until the day they put me in the ground." He said seriously. "Where's your husband?"

"No clue … probably pouring over some dry boring reports with Commander Playmate-of-the-
month."

"Jealous?" He quickly pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it aside. "Is that why we are here?"

"Jealous of that beautiful box of hair?" She slid down onto the bed opening her legs giving him a
glorious view.

He loved how she moved. "Do you think he finds her beautiful?" He started undoing his pants
that could not hide his erection.

"I find her beautiful." Mac stated easily. "If he doesn't … then he's lying."

"Maybe a threesome …?" He offered.

"Do you think my husband would like that?" She again stroked her breast through the silk of her
bra.

"I can imagine there are few men who would deny themselves the pleasure of attending to two
such beautiful women … however … I am a one woman man." He kicked off his shoes and
dropped his pants to the floor - briefs tented with his desire.

She smiled. "At least one woman at a time." She corrected.

"With you as that woman who could ask for more?" He came around the bed to the side she was
on.

She got on her knees to face him. "You always have the right answers." She stroked his chest
and teased his nipples with her tongue. Harm was anything but fat. He was bigger than he was
in his youth (that is just normal) but he had worked hard to stay as lean as possible.

He caressed on her waist and slid his hands down her backside to unsnap the rear two snaps. "It
has been a long time." He owned kneading her butt and massaging up her back. "I thought you
had given me up …" He unsnapped her bra but let his hang loosely over her breasts. He
caressed her waist, pulling her closer to him. "…Decided that your marriage was in trouble and
worth saving."

"My marriage is stable." She scratched down his chest and slipped her fingertips into his
waistband. "I love my husband and he loves me …" She tucked he hand inside his briefs and
pressed her fingers into his glutes and moaned her appreciation of their firmness. "Our life
together is fantastic … we are very happily married." She meant what she said but there was a
tone to her voice that implied she was over compensating.

"But?" He leaned back so he could look her in the eyes.

"No 'but' …" She looked down because it wasn't true. There was a 'but.'

"But?" He asked again.

She paused and formed her words carefully. "We have spent a lot of time apart in the past
several months." She looked up at him. "There are times when I really miss him."

"I see." He edged the underside of her breasts with his thumbs digging his fingertips into her ribs
just loving the feel of her body in his hands. "Is that why we are here … because you miss your
husband?"

She put her arms around his neck and pulled his ear close to her mouth. "We are here … I am
here." She corrected. "Because I have been thinking about you." She sucked his ear lobe
between her lips and took a little nip.

He pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled deeply. He knew the perfume; it was the one he
gave her on her birthday. "Should I tell you that not a week has going by without me entertaining
some really erotic fantasy about you too."

"Only if you plan on acting each one out."

He sucked on her neck, unsnapped the remaining two snaps on her garter. He laid her back on
the bed and pulled down her garters slowly over her ass, thighs and legs and discarded them.
He left her thigh-high hose and heels on. She shrugged out of his shirt and bra and sprawled out
for him. He dropped his briefs, spread her legs and climbed on top. He kissed up her stomach to
her breasts. She arched into his kiss and pushed her laced thigh between his legs rubbing his
erection. He continued to kiss up her throat and neck and worked his way to her mouth. She
rubbed down his back and ass and shifted such that his was poised over her ready entrance.
She kicked off her heels and wrapped her legs around him. He covered her mouth and she met
his searching tongue with her own as he drove himself completely into her in one fluid movement.
They each let out a muffled groan of relief to be connected again in such a way. The kiss
became more intense. There was no thrusting or gyrating with their hips. It was all impassioned
lips and tongue.

Harm pulled back enough to look into her face. "I love you, Sarah." The words were out before
he could stop them. Declarations of love were not part of the game. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."
He pulled out of her and rolled off.

"Harm?"

He laughed a little – chuckled really. "I can't believe I am saying this … but I can't do this."

"What 'this'?" She was confused.

"Sarah … I have missed you … all of you … yes I have missed making love to you for hours on
end … missed fucking you raw." He shrugged. "Bu I really miss our Sunday afternoons and
even our two mornings a week … I miss watching you get ready for date night and knowing that
we will arrive and leave together, that no matter who we are with, what we do or where we go –
we are there as a couple and only I will have the honor of taking you home and undressing you
and making love to you." He sat up. "Don't get me wrong …I love this … I love that you asked …
I love that you planned this. I have fantasized about slamming you up against the wall of an
elevator, or finger fucking you at a conference table of two stars, or eating you like a peach as
you sat on the bench in your jurist robes, or folding you down on the desk and fucking you until
your screams shattered the windows." He stole a look at her. "But more of what I have missed is
being with you, talking to you … listening to you … holding you as you sleep … waking up slowly
with you."

"What are you saying?" She flushed her embarrassment and delight as she pulled his shirt back
on to cover up.

"I am saying that …" He took her hand. "I want to go home, take my wife to a fantastic dinner,
talk to her about whatever is on her mind, plan a vacation for at least a week if not two and then I
want to take her to bed and remind her that she was right to pick me to share her life with."

She didn't know how to take his comments. They were sweet and loving and kind. They were
the ultimate a wife could want to hear – that her husband liked and loved her more than he
wanted to fuck her. But she felt like she was being scolded. It felt like she had asked for
something wrong. All she really knew was that they were not on the same page - again. "Fine."
She scooted away from him and got up.

"Sarah?"

She smiled weakly as she went to retrieve her uniform from the bathroom. "Dinner it is."

Harm knew he blew it. It didn't know how, but he knew that he did. "I am taking a leave of
absence." He announced.

She stepped back into the room. "Excuse me."

He looked up at her. She was gorgeous. Still in his silk shirt and still very flushed. He reached
for her hand and invited her to join him on the bed. "Nothing official … I wanted to discuss that
with you first."

He scooted back against the headboard and she sat down in front of him, turned toward him and
crossed her legs Indian style. Her shirt was buttoned once at the waist but her cleavage and
crotch were completely exposed to him. He tried to focus on her face and eyes, but her peaking
nipples through the silk and the soft hot curls of her pussy were distracting him.

"What is going on?" She asked seriously.

He smiled softly at her and ran his fingertips down her cheek and jaw line. He let the back of his
hand stroke her other cheek and glide down her chest to her lap. "God, but you are beautiful."
His dick twitched and started to grow hard again.

Before he had a chance to really stroke her clit and see how dripping wet she was, she pulled his
hand away and laced her fingers through his. "Tell me what is going on?"

"I think my priorities are screwed up." He explained. "In fact I am sure of it … but again, I need
your input."

"Because of the time we are apart?" She asked. "Do you think I resent that?"

It hadn't occurred to him that she might. "Do you?" He asked.

"I am a big girl, Harm." She said easily. "Yes, I miss you … but don't for one minute think that I
begrudge you your career and don't think that I can't handle the separations."

"I thought not." He said with a smile. "But it is nice to hear." He pulled her to him for a kiss.

"Then what is going on?" She asked again.

"I don't like the work I am doing." He pressed his fingers into hers. "It's political to be sure and
yes I am getting a very good reputation and a lot of people are talking a lot of smack about my
political aspirations." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

She almost laughed. "Talking smack?"

"Sorry." He laughed. "Got a kid in my office who uses that expression all the time." He sucked
her thumb into his warm wet mouth.

Her breath caught in her throat. "So why don't you like the work?" She croaked.

"It is not honest." He traded her thumb for her index finger.

"Honest?"

"Yes." He returned her hand to her lap and put his on her thighs and stroked them. "I know being
a lawyer you have to take your side and try to win it whether you believe it or not." His strong
thumbs worked at her inner thighs.

She uncrossed her legs so she could open wider for him.

"But this is setting policy … this is about deciding the fate of a lot of people and many are not in
the military … hell they are not even US citizens." He undid the one button and opened the shirt
completely so he could see her nakedness. He stroked her small belly and pinched her slight
luve handles and scooted her closer. "I don't believe that we have the best interest of the
majority at heart."

She was succumbing to his attentions. "We don't set policy." She said weakly as he caressed
her breasts and thumbed her nipples.

"But I don't have to help them enforce it." He leaned down and tasted one of her breasts.
'Hmmmmmmmmmm.' He groaned his delight. He tasted the other. It was not how he had
expected to have the conversation with her, but he couldn't stop himself.

She arched into his mouth and found her own hands working their way up his thigh to his now
very hard dick. "What will you do?"

"That is the question." He mumbled with a mouthful of tit. "I want to take some time to really
consider what is best for all concerned."

"You know you have my full support." Her hands closed around his dick as he bit her nip (the
right one) a little too hard. "Ow."

"Sorry." He kissed his apology to her breast. "You would be OK with me at home for a couple of
months." He moved away from her breasts and was now working the sweet spot on her neck as
his thumbs worked closer to her clit. "You would have me under foot constantly … never a
private moment?" He rubbed her nub and sucked her ear lobe into his mouth.

"I think I can tolerate it." She pulled his dick with one hand and worked his balls with the other.

"You could come home for lunch everyday." He nibbled at her neck.

"It might be a problem." She leaned back on the bed and pulled him down on top of her. "I might
never get any work done." She still had a hold of his dick and was rubbing it at her wet pussy.
She opened her legs and edged toward him.

He made the same move he made before. He thrust into her completely with one fluid motion
and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was deep and penetrating. She grabbed his ass and
directed him not to move as she gyrated under him finding just the right spot for her clit. He could
no longer hold back, he started pumping her completely – in and out, in and out, in and out
looking for the spot of hers that only he had found. Her legs wrapped around him and she sucked
on his neck. She pressed her fingers deep into the muscles of his butt and whimpered with each
thrust. His heavy breath in her ear was music. He pushed himself up so he could look down into
her face and pumped faster. Her head was back and her eyes were closed. He kissed her chin
and she looked up into his dark eyes. She didn't remember that last time they were so intense. "I
love you." She moaned. "God, I love you." She leaned up to meet his lips with her own. Their
tongues tangled. His thrusting became purposeful – push in deep, semi-retreat, in deep, semi-
retreat, deep … deeper … DEEP. He found her spot. Her breath hitched and her mouth was
open poised for the audible release of ecstasy she was about to experience. "AH … oh God …
right there." He worked it … touched it over and over and over until she cried out her release.
"OH GOD." Two more thrusts and Harm had his. "I love you." He sighed into her ear as he
collapsed down on top.

They lay for a moment not wanting to break the connection or spoil the moment – to catch their
breath. Mac started to laugh – to giggle at first, but then really laugh.

"What?" He pushed up to look down at her.

"You think you have political aspirations?" He looked confused. "What will they say about your
secret lover?"

He laughed too. "Would you out me on Larry King?" He kissed her quickly.

"Hell with that … I would right a book … turn it into a major motion picture." She smiled. "Like a
peach, Harm?"

"I like peaches." He stated seductively remembering his fantasy of going down on her as she
presided over a court case. "Oh yeah … Peaches and cream." He yelped. "Objection …
Sustained."

"Oh baby … any time, any where." She laughed.

His face washed with seriousness. "You are everything to me."

"And you to me." She conquered.

"I need this time Sarah … I need this time to really figure out what I can live with and what I can't
… the only thing I know for sure … is that you are my first priority."

"And you are mine." She kissed him.

"I am not asking for 24/7 … nor am I expecting 9-to-5 with weekend and holidays … but if we are
going to sacrifice even a minute of the time we could have had together … I want that minute to
be well spent – useful, right … honest."

"I understand." And she did. "I like my job Harm … I'm doing good work … it's important, and I
am good at it … if I do say so myself."

"I know that and you are not the only one to say so." He rolled off of her and held her close.
"That is all I want for myself."

She curled into him tightly. "You know I would transfer you back in a second if I could."

"I know that."

"There is only one thing that I am not sure I could live with." She said tentatively.

"Tell me."

"I don't think I could live with you permanently stationed outside of Washington." She tucked into
him so he could not see her face. "And the second thing … I think if you went back to front line
duty it would terrify me beyond words."

He rolled her onto to her back and looked deeply into her eyes. "Neither one was an option for
me … I would just as soon stay where I am than to leave you for six months at a time." He
kissed her. "There are options … we should explore all of them." He smiled. "My little peach."
He kissed her again.

She was silent for a moment as they lay quietly in their own thoughts. "Was this wrong?"

"What this?" He said drowsily.

"Me … this … coming here … perpetuating the …"

"No." He stopped her. "No, not at all." He sighed. "I'm sorry I ruined it."

"You didn't." She assured him and hoping to assure herself.

"Promise you will ask me again." He pressed.

"I will." She smiled. "Maybe for lunch someday … soon."

"I like that idea." He kissed her.

She looked around a little confused about what all had occurred but knowing that whatever it was
they would deal with it together. For the first time she really understood that even being on a
different page with the one person you can't live without in the world is not necessarily a bad
thing. "So what do we do now?"

"I need to get home to my wife." He told her.

"I AM your wife." She reminded him. "Your wife, your lover, your friend and your partner in life."

"Thank Christ for that." His eyes softened. "How about I take you out for lobster and chocolate
soufflé and then take you home and make love to you all night long in our own bed with our clean
sheets." He mocked a sneeze. "Little musty in here."

"I'll have it aired out for next time." She assured him. "You still have to fly away tomorrow?"

"I do … but I will be back on Tuesday and with any luck, my leave will start a week from then."

She sat up. "No soufflé for me." She patted her stomach. "But you can have peach cobbler."
She kissed him quickly and tried to get up.

He held her back. "Sarah MacKenzie-Rabb … you are beautiful and sexy as hell and I am the
luckiest SOB on the planet."

"Will you say that when I tilt the scales at 300 pounds?" She grabbed her own stomach and
pinched it.

He shook his head. "Honestly … I find you more beautiful today … than I did when I first met you
… and you are more beautiful still than the day we first made love."

She cocked her head. "When was that?" She really wanted to know when he felt that they first
made love (meaning not FUCKED).

"The first time was that morning in San Diego when you told me you loved me."

"You do know I was planning to break up with you when I told you that."

He nodded. "It was a dying man's confession … it was the truth and it was heartfelt … you loved
me and I loved you … and we told each other that with no agenda and the connection was real."

"You really think that was the first time?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "The next time was in the autumn in the mountains a year an a half ago.
Damn but you looked hot with leaves in your hair … I will never forget the light that was in your
eyes." He looked at her. "Kind of like the light that you have in them now."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Lips met.

Tongues tangled.

Lobster and soufflé would wait – at least another hour or two.


THE END