Дэвид Балдаччи - The Forgotten

Puller opened the door and looked at Carson. She had on a clingy light blue sleeveless dress with a V neckline and two-inch heels.

“What time is it?” asked Puller, who had gone from groggy to alert at the sight of her.

“Seventeen hundred.”

“Damn, I must have really been asleep. It only felt like an hour of sack time.”

“Can I come in?”

He stepped back and let her pass. She smelled of ginger and lilacs. Her skin glowed. Her hair was swept back, highlighted by the sun. The dress stopped about mid-thigh.

She sat on the bed and crossed her long legs as he closed the door.

“I thought we could talk about the case and then think about dinner. Unless you wanted to hook up with Officer Landry.”

She was gazing not at his face, but at a spot lower.

Puller looked down and realized he was still in his boxers.

“You must have a different definition of decent than I do, Puller.”

“I don’t want to hook up with Officer Landry,” he said curtly.

“All I needed to know.”

She rose, stepped out of her heels, undid a clasp at the back of her dress, and it fell to the floor.

She had nothing on underneath.

“This must seem very forward of me.”

“It actually seems just right.”

She rubbed her hand across his cheek. “I’ve learned from the Army that when you want to take a position you just have to go for it. Hesitation is for losers.”

She lay back on the bed and lifted up the covers. “I know you’ve been asleep a long time, but you want to crawl back in here? You won’t be sleeping. That I can guarantee.”

They kissed lightly at first and then deeper, their fingers probing. When they drew apart. Carson looked unsteady, vulnerable and breathless, her hair askew, her lips parted. Tough one-star now naked, helpless, and literally in his hands. He traced her lips with his finger.

No words necessary.

He lifted her up, her long legs immediately scissoring around his torso. He laid her back on the bed.

There was a rim of sweat on her back that Puller flicked his hands over as he gripped her tightly. He rose up and settled down firmly on top. His hands slid to her buttocks and squeezed the soft flesh. Her hands kept busy too, slipping to his thighs and directing him to where Puller now needed to go.

A familiar motion took over, growing more and more frenetic as the fire inside each of them reached a point of no return.

Her moans were becoming more rapid. She started to talk. Telling him in his ear precisely what it was she wanted.

A while later Puller gave one last shudder and fell limp over Carson. She was gasping and trying to catch her breath and telling him how pleased she was at his performance. Together they slowly moved down to lie flat on the bed side by side.

“That was truly unbelievable, John,” she murmured in his ear.

It was , thought Puller, and he told her so.

She turned, faced him, and kissed him, first on the cheek, then the lips, sliding her fingers up and down one side of his face.

It had been a while for Puller. He worried whether he could bring the necessary level of passion. Apparently he had. And that made him feel both satisfied and relieved as he lay there next to her. He was still breathing hard, like he’d just completed the Army two-mile in record time.

“I don’t do this sort of thing lightly, just so you know,” she said.

“You don’t seem the type.”

“I’m not,” she said firmly, propping herself up on one elbow and looking at him.

“I’m not either,” he said.

“Trust me, I know.”

“You’ve been checking me out?”

“Your record speaks for itself. Not a lot of room in there for personal time.”

“You either.”

“Simple story, chasing stars.” She rubbed his chest. “So where do we go from here, big fellow?”

Puller jerked up and stared at her.

She laughed. “I’m not looking for an engagement ring and a wedding date, Puller. I’m talking about eating. I’m starved.”

He smiled. “Then how about we go eat?”

She kissed him, ran her fingers along a part of his anatomy that made him shudder.

She whispered in his ear, “Is that an order, soldier?”

“With all due respect, ma’am, yes, it is.”

Their bellies full, Puller and Carson sat back from their empty plates and studied each other.

“You’re looking at me as though our relationship has changed somehow,” she said.

He cocked his head, studied her even more intently. “Hasn’t it?”

They were occupying the back corner of a restaurant. The hour was still early enough that the large dinner crowds had not come in yet. They had the place mostly to themselves.

“Why? Because we’ve slept together?”

“I can’t think of any other reason.”

“Was it that important for you?”

“I guess it wasn’t for you.”

“Don’t be offended, John, but it is the twenty-first century. Like guys have for most all of history, girls just sometimes want it for no other reason than they want it.”

“Okay,” he said slowly.

She suddenly smiled. “Feeling used?”

He looked at her, grinned back. “Turning the tables on the male psyche?”

“About time, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m a poor representative of the typical male.”

“That’s what I like about you. Take Landry, for instance.”

“What about her?”

“She’s young and hot. She wants you in the sack, no leap of deduction there. But she’s no doubt been hit on by every cop in the department.”

“Probably has.”

“And you think the DoD is any different?”

“Come again?”

“I’ve had my ass pinched by my share of one-through four-stars. At West Point it was the same. Instructors and boneheaded plebes. Then out in the field with leafs and clusters thinking it was okay what they said and did to a woman in the ranks. Hell, during my tours of combat in the Middle East sometimes it seemed I was fighting a war on both flanks.”

She picked up her iced tea and glanced at him. “Surprise you?”

“The Army answer would be yes, it would surprise me.”

“And your answer?”

“You know my answer. It’s not the same as the Army’s.”

“Propositioned, harassed, threatened, even assaulted. Welcome to this ‘man’s’ army, right?”

He sat forward, his hands making fists on top of the table. “There are procedures for that shit, Julie. You don’t have to take it. Like you said, it’s the twenty-first century.”

“Right. And part of this century looks just like all the others. Men are still men, however much more enlightened they may be, or constrained by the threat of lawsuits, courts-martial, wrecked careers, and pissed-off wives. But they still pull that crap because they think they can get away with it. They always think that.”

“And so you just took it?”

“I didn’t say that.” She held up her fist. “Sometimes it was this. Sometimes it was a knee to the nuts. Sometimes it was just a stare. And, yeah, sometimes it was paperwork filed and careers torpedoed. But sometimes I didn’t do or say anything. Sometimes I just walked away.”

He stared at her. “You don’t seem the type to just walk away.”

“I had long-term plans, Puller. The Army wasn’t just a lark for me. I wanted big things. I wanted to do big things. I wanted the star path. I have one. I want at least two more.”

“So go along to get along? Not my idea of leadership.”

“Leadership is a funny thing. The parameters keep changing. But one thing you can’t compromise on is can you look at yourself in the mirror the next day? I always could. No matter what happened. It wasn’t my problem. It was theirs. They shouldn’t be able to look in the mirror. They’re the ones who couldn’t control their dicks.”