She was going to lose her mind.  It was just a matter of time.  Seeing Harm twenty times a day, running by, sweat pouring off him, his T-shirt clinging to his rock-hard frame.  Or yelling at his men, playing the hard-ass, showing her a side of proper, reasonable Harm she never got to see in real life.  A side of him that, dammit, got her hot.  She’d never admit it even under oath, but the sight of him getting all over his charges, playing the domineering, he-man, king-of-the-jungle-and-everyone-better-know-it Drill Sergeant just turned her on like nobody’s business.  The thought of letting him play the role with her, just once, had her spinning daydreams so hot they could power a small city.

And the whole time he was wearing those damn cammies.  Jet jockies like him liked to think parading around in their flight suits made them God’s gift to women.  If you asked her, the goofy little overalls made them look like sissy boys.  Now cammies, that’s what a REAL man wore.  A man who wasn’t afraid to sweat a little, get a little dirty.  A man who was right there in the heat of the action, not flying a mile above it.  A man who didn’t take shit from anyone.  A man’s man.  A woman’s man.  That’s who wore cammies.

Mac glanced out her window and groaned as she saw Harm running by with his recruits for what must have been the third time that day.  She swore he was just running them around her building over and over.  Probably did it just to torture her.  Of course her pain-in-the-ass honest side piped up that she’d made a few unnecessary trips past the parade grounds herself that day.  She told the voice to shut up.

By the end of the day, she was at ready to blow.  She grabbed some files, picked up her cover and bolted out of her office.  Maybe a cold shower and some Haagen Dazs chocolote-chocolate-chip ice cream would cool down the fires.  Yeah, right.  Irritated with herself, she flew out the building door and right into the buff, sweaty, cammie-wearing “Gunny” she’d been trying to get out of her head all day.

He grabbed her arm to steady her, and the touch burned through her.  

“Easy, there, Mac,” he said, grinning that damn grin of his.  That did it.  She snapped.

“Is that how you address a superior officer, GUNNY?” she said, emphasizing his rank as she yanked her arm away.

“Sorry, <whatever her rank was, can’t remember.>  What was I thinking?” he said in the same insolent tone.  All the testosterone flying around the training grounds was obviously seeping into his skin.  He was feeling cocky.  She wanted to smack that grin right off his face for the crime of making her want him so bad.

“When I went through basic they taught me to always salute a superior officer, GUNNY,” she snapped.  “I’d think someone entrusted with training new recruits would have learned that lesson.”

“You’re really getting into the part, aren’t you, Mac, er, <RANK>?” he said with that same lazy smile.

“That’s it, Gunny,” Mac said in her best Marine officer growl.  “Drop and give me 20.”

“Mac . . .” Harm protested, smile faltering.

“You heard me, mister! Do it!”

Harm’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, his smile gone.  Well, at least she accomplished that much.  She knew she was being irrational, but dammit, he’d been torturing her all day, and she had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what he was doing to her.  This might be petty revenge, but it was revenge nevertheless, and she was gonna take it.  She got right up in his face and said, “I’m waiting, GUNNY.”

Harm just stared at her for a moment.  She could see that look come over his face that warned her he was going to try to reason with her, calm her down.  But just as she was bracing for the oh-so-sensible speech she knew was coming, the look vanished.  It was replaced by a gleam in his eye and a sly smile.  For a moment he had reverted to Harmon Rabb, lawyer.  But now the hard-ass Gunny that had been driving her nuts all day was back.  Suddenly Reasonable Harm sounded a lot safer.  

Pulling himself up to attention, he looked at a spot just past her ear.  “Ma’am, yes Ma’am!” he said crisply.  “But I need to ask one question, Ma’am.”

“What’s that, Gunny?” she asked, staring at him.

“Over or under?” he asked.

Mac was confused.  Over or under, what the hell did that mean?  Was there some kind of new pushup method that hadn’t been around when she went through basic?  “Explain yourself, Gunny.  What do you mean, ‘over or under’?”

“I mean, ma’am,” he began.  Then he leaned down and put his lips right next to her ear.  She could feel his breath puffing against her.  ‘Suck it up, Marine,’ she warned herself.  He continued, “When I do my pushups, do you want to be standing over me watching, or . . . lying underneath me?”  Then he snapped back to attention, the perfect marine.

Mac was floored.  She wanted to give him the ass-chewing he so richly deserved, but desire was flowing through her so hot and heavy it was like lava in her veins.  All the day’s fantasys coalesced into one image: her lying beneath Harm as he lowered himself onto her, again and again.  Any grip she had retained on her sanity was gone.  She had to have him.  Now.  And he’d just offered himself to her on a platter.  He probably thought he was kidding.  Too bad.

“Under,” she said, not losing her firm demeanor.  “Report to the Jayhawk Motel on I-37 in fifteen minutes, Marine,” she said.  “And if you’re even one minute late, it’ll be 50.”  Then she wheeled around and headed for her car, just like she propositioned “enlisted personnel” every day of the week.  But she couldn’t resist one quick look back.  And she almost laughed out loud when she saw the shocked look on his face, right before he snapped out of his daze and began quick-timing it to his own vehicle.

******

Mac peeked through the curtains.  She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she saw Harm’s rental pull into the parking lot.  She hadn’t been sure he was going to show, and if he hadn’t, well, she probably would have spotaneously combusted.  She’d have been nothing but a pile of ashes and fodder for a segment of Unsolved Mysteries.

She saw him drive past the office and park by her car.  Smart boy – wouldn’t want to leave a paper trail of this little fraternization.  Although she was pretty sure the desk clerk knew what was up, considering she’d been so worked up she could barely sign her name to the check-in slip.  Or maybe it was the fact that she was checking in using a local ID.  Whatever.

She pulled back from the window as Harm got out of the car and strode to the door.  She let him get in half a knock before she flung the door open – it wouldn’t do to look too eager.  He strode in and reached for him, but she stopped him with an upflung hand.  As much as she wanted to get right to the good stuff, there was a little matter of a fantasy that needed fulfilling.

“Not so fast, Marine,” she said sternly.  “I thought I told you to give me 20.”

Harm looked puzzled for a moment, probably wondering if he’d misread her.  But he must have seen the desire in her eyes, the feral smile on her lips, because he snapped to attention and said, “Ready whenever you are, Ma’am.”

Oh, goody, he was going to pay along.

She walked a few paces away and stretched out on her back in front of the bed, trying not to think about what might be on the carpert in a no-tell motel like this place.  Then she sucked in a breath, looked up at Harm and cocked an eyebrow at him.  He sauntered over, crouched down beside her, and then stretched out on top her, preparing for his first pushup.  Mac gritted her teeth, trying not to lose it before things even got started.  Then he pushed himself up and held himself there, looking down into her eyes.  Very quietly, he said, “One.”

Her eyes locked on to his, her pupils dilating slightly.  Slowly, he lowered himself down, stopping just short of touching her, which was pretty tough, actually, because Mac had some serious topography.  Never losing eye contact, he pushed his arms back up straight and whispered, “Two.”

Mac’s pledge to remain at least a shred of control was being seriously tested, and when he lowered himself again, this time bringing his body completely against her, that control went right out the window.  She gasped, bringing a crooked grin to his face.  He pushed himself off of her again, and she sighed at the loss of contact.  Holding himself over her, he released his breath with a puff of warm air in her face and said, “Three.” On the next trip down, he rested his cheek against hers.  Turning his lips to her ear, he breathed, “Four,” as he pushed away again.

Mac turned her head restlessly, missing his weight as soon as it left her.  As he came down to her again, she arched her back, pushing her aching breasts against him.  He groaned, “Five,” as he broke the delicious contact.  Before she had time to mourn the loss, his hard body was back.  She rocked from side to side to brush her sensitive nipples against him before he went away.

“Six.”

As he began his descent once more, Mac couldn’t resist reaching out to him.  She gripped his upper arms and felt the muscles bunch as they held his weight.  “Seven.”  She squeezed them as the muscles flexed to take him away from her again, and then bunch for the next trip down.  “Eight.”

When he came down again, he arched his back slightly to bring his hips flush against her.  His rock-hard arousal told her he was just as turned on by their little game as she was.  She ground her pelvis against him before he slipped away again.  “Nine.”  On his next visit, she ground against him again, brushing her aching bundle against the ridge in his cammies.  “Ohhh, Ten,” he groaned.

Mac was pulled taut as a bow.  She slid her hands up his arms and down his back as he lowered himself again.  He was biting his lip by now, too aroused to concentrate on counting, so she did it for him in her head.  Eleven.  Good thing he hadn’t been late; she wasn’t sure how much more of this torture she could take.  Twelve.

She licked her lips as he descended again, and he took it as an invitation.  He pressed his lips to hers and swirled his toungue into her mouth before pulling quickly away.  Thirteen.

This time she had her tongue waiting for him and swiped it across his lips as he approached her.  Fourteen.  She slid her arms down to his butt and encouraged his next downward journey, arching so that her mouth was out of range but their groins made full contact.  She let him leave her only reluctantly – Fifteen.

As he came down once again, he thrust his hips strongly against hers before rising above her.  Sixteen.  She slid one leg around the back of his and pushed against him as he returned and moved away again.  Seventeen.

Mac met his eyes as he lowered himself again.  His were hot with longing, and his face was strained with holding himself up and holding himself back.  Eighteen.  On his next return, she shamelessly lifted her whole body against him and lifted her mouth to his jawline, licking a drop of sweat away before he once again moved out of range. Nineteen.  

After lowering himself the last time, he rested against her, his face buried in her shoulder.  Playfully she whispered, “That’s only nineteen, Marine.”

He responded by raising himself again, drawing a groan from both of them.  Then he held himself over her, staring down at her.  She looked up at him for a long moment; then she moved her hands from his butt to around his shoulders and pulled him down to her.

Their lips meet in a fiery kiss.  It was their first real kiss, but it was more like one between seasoned lovers.  Their tongues slid past each others, exploring, caressing.  Harm leaned on one elbow and used his other arm to begin roughly pulling her clothes from her body.  She began to return the favor.  She had two hands to work with, plus the pent-up energy from an afternoon – from years – of longing.  In short order there was nothing between them but desire.  

Mac rolled them over so that this time she was on top of him, leaning down to kiss him once more before moving her mouth down his body.  She bit at his jaw line, sucked on his neck, stroked her tongue across his taut nipples.  He was filling his hands with her breasts, massaging them, plucking at her nipples until she lowered herself out of his range.  He gasped as she swirled her tongue into his navel and then continued down, stroking her hands down his flanks as she came to the huge erection resting against his belly.  She brought a hand to it, stroking it, marveling as she always did that something so hard could be so velvety soft to the touch.  She grasped him, evoking a moan, as she pulled his member upright and lowered her mouth to its head.  His heartfelt, “Ahhh, Goddd MAAAACC,” told him he was enjoying her touch.

He stroked her hair as she licked and sucked on his tip, then grasped her upper arms and pulled her back up to him.  He fumbled for the pants that had been shoved aside and brought out a foil packet, covering himself.  Normally he would have performed a little oral sex of his own to prepare her for his invasion, but reaching between his legs, he could feel that she was more than ready. She cried out as his hand brushed her clit, then pushed him out of the way as she pulled his member upright and lowered herself onto him.  

As much as she would have liked to sheath him with one stroke, he was big and she was tight – it had been awhile.  But soon enough she pushed him past the initial constriction of her tunnel and sank all the way down.  He brought his hand back to her clit and stroked her as she pulled up and then slammed back down onto him. 

“One . . . ,” he joked with a gasp.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think it’s going to take me 19 more,” she panted, arching her back and throwing her head back as she pumped on him again.  He felt so good, so deep and hot inside her as she took him all the way in to the hilt.  She cried out again as he circled her clit once more and brought his other hand around to squeeze her buttocks firmly.

“Good, because I don’t have 19 more in me.  God, Mac . . . ” he bit out as she took him in again.  He flicked against her clit again as his penis hit her cervix, and that’s all it took to send her over the edge, gasping and moaning his name.  Not waiting for her to recover, he grabbed her hips and slammed her up and down on him as she writhed out her orgasm, until he too plunged over the edge.  Breathing harshly, he pulled her against his chest as she collapsed against him.

Long moments later, he stirred and pulled himself out of her, rolling the rubber off and tossing it in the general direction of the wastebasket.  Then he rolled to his side and brought her against him again, kissing her hairline.

She snuggled against him.  “Gee, if I’d known this would be the result, I would have ordered you to do 20 pushups a long time ago!”

“Hey, in the real world you can’t order me to do anything, MAJOR,” he bristled.  Then he squeezed her to him and added softly, “But I’m glad you did.  I’ve wanted this with you for so long, Mac, but I don’t know if I would have ever . . . ”

“. . . let go?” she supplied.

“Yeah, let go,” he agreed.  He pulled back slightly and lowered his head to hers for a long, soft, kiss.