I don"t think they were thrilled about the whole thing, but there was nothing they could do to stop me. Nothing had stopped me yet.
When I was standing by the green tent, fiddling with the hem of my skirt, I started getting nervous for the first time. Breaking into see Max could result in me being forcibly separated from him forever, by either imprisonment or banishment.
But if they weren"t going to let me see him anyway, it didn"t make that much of a difference. Besides, if I could break in once, I could do it again.
Tatum whistled when he saw me, so I took that as a good sign. He had dressed down to a snug green tee shirt and camo pants, his dog tags clinking against the muscles of his chest. He strode over, in that exaggerated confident walk of his, and grinned broadly at me.
“You look great,” he said.
“Thanks.” I rubbed at my arms and wished I hadn"t worn such a short skirt. “Can we go now?”
“Yeah, but you gotta really sell it.”
“This isn"t selling it enough?” I gestured to my outfit.
“Yeah, but you gotta be all over me too,” Tatum said, and I rolled my eyes. He dropped the cool guy act for a minute and gave me an earnest look. “I"m being serious. You"re acting all skittish and weird, they"ll know something"s up. So just pretend you"re into me until we get through the doors. Can you handle that?”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“And when I touch you, don"t freak out.”
He looped his arm around my waist, powerful and warm. His hand went dangerously close to pressing painfully on the bite wound. I almost slapped it away, but that wouldn"t look right. I leaned into him, rubbing my hand on the firm muscles of his stomach, and let him lead me over to the door.
“Giggle a lot,” Tatum whispered when we got closer.
“I don"t giggle.”
“Hot girls always giggle,” he insisted, so I tried a small, feminine giggle, but it sounded like a horse or something. “Okay. Never mind. Don"t giggle.” When we got to the doors of the building, I nuzzled even deeper against him. I knew I was a horrible actor, so I let my hair fall into my face, hiding the excitement and anxiety I felt.
The hand Tatum had around me got increasingly friskier, roaming all over my body. American hero or not, I kinda really wanted to kick him.
“Another one, Tatum?” one of the guards asked jovially, and Tatum laughed.
“You know me. I work hard, I play hard, Griffin,” Tatum replied and slapped my ass. It was really, really hard for me not to punch him, but I somehow forced a playful squeal instead.
“I hate to bust your balls, but the Sergeant really does not want civilians inside,” the other guard said. “Can"t you go back to her place?”
“She lives with other people,” Tatum said. “And we need some privacy.”
“Just let him in, Stanley,” Griffin said, imploring the other guard to listen to Tatum.
“Fine,” Stanley sighed. “But this is the last time. You need to find a love nest somewhere else.”
“Thank you,” Tatum smiled gratefully as Stanley punched numbers in the keypad.
“Don"t play too hard now,” Griffin said. “You"ve got field training in the morning.”
“I can"t make any promises,” Tatum quipped. The doors slid open, and he led me through.
Once the doors shut behind us, I pulled away from him. The hallways were plain and utilitarian, like the kind in most hospitals. White floors, speckled tiles, drop ceiling. I couldn"t see anybody around, but I could hear people talking and laughing and music playing.
“Thanks for getting me in,” I said, readjusting my skirt.
“It was my pleasure,” he grinned.
“Yeah, I"m sure it was,” I muttered, remembering when he grabbed my ass. He laughed, so I shot him a look.
“Come on. The second floor is this way,” he nodded to the hall to his left. I walked with him, deliberately giving him a wide berth. “I"m not gonna grope you now or anything.”
“How do you have music?” I asked, changing the subject.
“We have CD"s and stereos,” Tatum shrugged again. “All we need is electricity.” When we walked a little closer, I was surprised the band playing was Emeriso, Lazlo"s old band. Over the music, I heard a door creak and footsteps approaching.
“Someone"s coming,” Tatum said. Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and pushed me up against the wall. “Don"t slap me.”
I just stared at him, and then he pressed his mouth against mine. His kisses were hard and rough, and while they weren"t entirely bad, I didn"t really feel anything. Not like with Lazlo.
I heard the footsteps getting closer, so I kissed him back more fervently, and a man whistled.