Author's Notes: Currently rated PG but will have a rating of R for later
chapters.
Shiver
By Angelina
Don't know how you do it Like there's nothing to it You just look my way You come a little closer I lose my composure Don't know what to say
~Shiver by Jamie O'Neal~
"I don't how I let Hawk talk me into this," Courtney groused. The former- model-turned-tanker mumbled to herself as she pulled the new formal dress and matching heels from her garment bag. She draped them out on the coverlet of the hotel room's bed. Glancing at the digital alarm clock on the wooden nightstand, she noted that she had just enough time to grab a shower, fix her hair and throw on the dress, a nice Givenchy confection purchased with taxpayer money, before she had to show up in the lobby to meet her 'date' for the evening.
She turned on the taps of the shower and soon billows of steam surrounded her naked form. Resenting the fact she couldn't enjoy the rare hot shower, Courtney lathered her long auburn hair, then soaped her lean body until it glistened. She couldn't help but revel in the moist heat for a moment before rinsing, then shutting off the taps. Toweling dry quickly, she ran shivering into the cool air conditioning of the bedroom and began tugging on her nylons. As she slipped the dress over her head, the ring of the bedside phone pierced the silence.
Cursing as she attempted to extricate herself from the flowing silk and chiffon garment, Courtney stumbled to the phone, a rare less-than-graceful moment. "Hellommph," she said into the receiver as she fought to get the material away from her face.
"Cover Girl?" The soft, deep baritone sounded uncertain, as if it had not reached the correct room extension.
"Yeah?" The affirmative response came out a little clearer than her greeting as she was able to finally get the dress positioned correctly on her body and shove her damp hair out of her face.
"You're late."
"Listen, it takes me longer. You trying putting on bras, hose, dresses, makeup and putting your hair up and see how quick you are," she snapped back, irritated at his impatience. Of any of the Joes that could have been assigned to work with Courtney on this project, Hawk had to drag him into this. He certainly wasn't her idea of debonair masculinity of the first social order. He didn't resemble any of the men who had surrounded her during her modeling career. Hell, he wasn't even quite like most of the guys she worked with on the base.
"Just get your ass moving, Krieger." His voice had the sharp edge of a command to it, then the line clicked as he hung up the phone.
Oooohhh, she thought inwardly, if only she could..well, she couldn't come up with a painful enough form of retribution at the moment, but believe you me, when she had the time she would certainly bring her not-insignificant abilities to bear upon him. In the meantime, she put her efforts towards making herself into a stunning knockout.
Glancing at his watch for what seemed the millionth time, he growled in frustration at the current situation in which he found himself. Hawk had definitely fallen off the deep end with this fouled up assignment. Never in a million years would he have placed himself in this type of covert operation. Better Duke or Flint, even one of the other non-coms. He wasn't a playboy by any stretch of the imagination, not to mention who had been assigned as his partner. They were like oil and water. How in the hell did Hawk think they would be able to succeed in such a poorly thought- out mission.
He reached up to run his fingers through his brown hair, which had grown a bit longer than he would have preferred but his customary short style proclaimed 'military' to all but the most unintelligent of observers. At the last second, he brought his hand back down, recognizing the fact that he had already had a very difficult time taming the dark strands which were just beginning to wave as they grew out. But his hair was the least of his worries.
The dark suit, not quite a tux but strikingly formal in its cut, molded to his muscular body in all of its tailored glory. Uncomfortable was what it was to him. Unaccustomed to dressing up, only dress uniforms when he was absolutely required, he chafed at the idea that he was going to have to resort to this mode of fashion for some time to come. If God was merciful like he had been taught in church as a child, the divine being would take some pity on him and let the mission be over soon. Either that or let someone shoot him and put him out of his misery.
He was half-way tempted to head up to Cover Girl's room and drag her downstairs, whether she was ready or not. One of the mysteries he vowed he would never understand about the female of the species was their abject tardiness and ability to make men wait on them. Instead he forced himself to settle himself back down on the barstool and order another whiskey. Maybe the alcohol would at least make the evening bearable. Not that he was much of a drinker, mind you. But he did need all the help he could get.
"You better lighten up on those or I'll have to carry your ass home, Beach Head."
Her soft, husky voice caught his attention as he slowly set the shot glass down on the mahogany bar. He turned, drawing in a deep breath as he took in the vision before him. Accustomed to seeing her clad in fatigues and dirt smudges from ear to ear, Sgt. Wayne Sneeden recognized for the first time how the female tanker standing there had once belonged to the elite ranks of the fashion model world. He also definitely understood what the hell Hawk had been thinking when he assigned her to the mission.
He swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath while attempting unsuccessfully to find some witty retort rolling around his befuddled brain. "Not hardly," he muttered, all the while thinking to himself he'd like to drag her somewhere private, maybe his room and then.. Well, he couldn't really bring himself to contemplating what would happen after - that was way too distracting, not to mention real for him. He stood up slowly from the chair, praying fervently that his physical response to her presence wouldn't betray him. "You ready?"
"Sure. Let's do it," she said with much more confidence than she felt at the moment. Stunned at the miraculous transformation in the Army Ranger, Courtney couldn't resist the urge to allow her eyes to wander his leanly muscular physique as he stood from the bar stool. Several inches taller than her petite form, the sergeant presented a dangerously sexy representation of the masculine species. Never in a million years she would ever dreamed he could pose such a danger to her willpower and concentration. In the soft warm lighting of the hotel bar, his hair glowed mutely with reddish highlights intermingled through the chocolate brown strands. Her fingers itched to slide through the silky short strands, while the dark navy suit had been cut to accentuate every sinuous muscle hidden beneath.
Wayne's dark brown eyes, flecked with burnished gold, gazed down at her for a brief moment. Gallantly he offered his arm to escort Courtney from the bar to their destination, again startling her with the unusual display of fine manners. She hoped he didn't notice her imperceptible hesitation when she placed her small hand on his arm. Warmth emanated through the fabric to her palm, sending the warmth throughout her body as she berated her self silently for letting him get to her like this. Being this distracted by his proximity could cause the entire operation to backfire, even posed a life-threatening risk for both of them. As they made their way to the ballroom, she steeled herself against the feelings welling up inside of her, knowing full well they would never come to fruition.
"I said, do you have our story straight?" Courtney's voice was tinged with irritation at Beach Head's lack of concentration. She was also puzzled by it. He would have been the last person that she would have seen lose focus. Usually he was too focused for his own good.
Wayne glanced over at her, his face reading slight confusion before his brain registered her question. "Yeah, sure. Don't worry about it. You're the bait and I'm just the bodyguard."
"Not hardly, Wayne."
His eyebrows twitched at her informal use of his Christian name. Courtney noticed his response, and explained patiently, "You better get comfortable with using our names. It'll be stupid move for one of us to slip up and use our call signs while we're here. Nothing tips off a major arms dealer like military slang." She gave him a brilliant smile for absolutely no reason at all.
"You don't have to worry about me, Courtney." He emphasized her name as he held the door open for her. She stopped suddenly, almost causing him to trip over her as he followed her through the door. "What in the.."
"Watch your language!" She hissed at him, then turned around to regard him with her complete attention. Her gaze drifted down his body, assessing with a practiced eye on how he would appear to the enemy. His tie askance, she reached up to straighten it. She whispered, "I would never have guessed you had manners, or is that just part of the act?"
"No, believe it or not, they actually do have some civilization in Alabama, Ms. Krieger." His drawl became more pronounced as he leaned into her. Courtney resisted the urge to lean into him, but he was already close enough to inhale his masculine scent. Wow, she thought to herself, he used cologne and everything. He reached out with one callused hand and tucked a wayward strand of strawberry blond hair back into her simple coiffure. "There. I have to admit, Cover Gi. I mean Courtney, you do clean up right nice." God, that sounded smart, Wayne. Give the lady the idea you're a complete imbecile. "That didn't come out quite right," he whispered back, chagrinned.
She graced him with another one of her smiles, lighting up her entire face. "I get the point, Wayne." Her tongue rolled around the syllables of his name, a stark reminder of other things Wayne would enjoy her tongue to wrap around. He felt his body stiffen at the blatant thought. She rested her hand on his shoulder as she leaned into him long enough to murmur in his ear. "You look wonderful tonight, too."
Then she left him standing there, stunned at the compliment, as she made her way across the floor to the table where their quarry awaited.
Shiver
By Angelina
Don't know how you do it Like there's nothing to it You just look my way You come a little closer I lose my composure Don't know what to say
~Shiver by Jamie O'Neal~
"I don't how I let Hawk talk me into this," Courtney groused. The former- model-turned-tanker mumbled to herself as she pulled the new formal dress and matching heels from her garment bag. She draped them out on the coverlet of the hotel room's bed. Glancing at the digital alarm clock on the wooden nightstand, she noted that she had just enough time to grab a shower, fix her hair and throw on the dress, a nice Givenchy confection purchased with taxpayer money, before she had to show up in the lobby to meet her 'date' for the evening.
She turned on the taps of the shower and soon billows of steam surrounded her naked form. Resenting the fact she couldn't enjoy the rare hot shower, Courtney lathered her long auburn hair, then soaped her lean body until it glistened. She couldn't help but revel in the moist heat for a moment before rinsing, then shutting off the taps. Toweling dry quickly, she ran shivering into the cool air conditioning of the bedroom and began tugging on her nylons. As she slipped the dress over her head, the ring of the bedside phone pierced the silence.
Cursing as she attempted to extricate herself from the flowing silk and chiffon garment, Courtney stumbled to the phone, a rare less-than-graceful moment. "Hellommph," she said into the receiver as she fought to get the material away from her face.
"Cover Girl?" The soft, deep baritone sounded uncertain, as if it had not reached the correct room extension.
"Yeah?" The affirmative response came out a little clearer than her greeting as she was able to finally get the dress positioned correctly on her body and shove her damp hair out of her face.
"You're late."
"Listen, it takes me longer. You trying putting on bras, hose, dresses, makeup and putting your hair up and see how quick you are," she snapped back, irritated at his impatience. Of any of the Joes that could have been assigned to work with Courtney on this project, Hawk had to drag him into this. He certainly wasn't her idea of debonair masculinity of the first social order. He didn't resemble any of the men who had surrounded her during her modeling career. Hell, he wasn't even quite like most of the guys she worked with on the base.
"Just get your ass moving, Krieger." His voice had the sharp edge of a command to it, then the line clicked as he hung up the phone.
Oooohhh, she thought inwardly, if only she could..well, she couldn't come up with a painful enough form of retribution at the moment, but believe you me, when she had the time she would certainly bring her not-insignificant abilities to bear upon him. In the meantime, she put her efforts towards making herself into a stunning knockout.
Glancing at his watch for what seemed the millionth time, he growled in frustration at the current situation in which he found himself. Hawk had definitely fallen off the deep end with this fouled up assignment. Never in a million years would he have placed himself in this type of covert operation. Better Duke or Flint, even one of the other non-coms. He wasn't a playboy by any stretch of the imagination, not to mention who had been assigned as his partner. They were like oil and water. How in the hell did Hawk think they would be able to succeed in such a poorly thought- out mission.
He reached up to run his fingers through his brown hair, which had grown a bit longer than he would have preferred but his customary short style proclaimed 'military' to all but the most unintelligent of observers. At the last second, he brought his hand back down, recognizing the fact that he had already had a very difficult time taming the dark strands which were just beginning to wave as they grew out. But his hair was the least of his worries.
The dark suit, not quite a tux but strikingly formal in its cut, molded to his muscular body in all of its tailored glory. Uncomfortable was what it was to him. Unaccustomed to dressing up, only dress uniforms when he was absolutely required, he chafed at the idea that he was going to have to resort to this mode of fashion for some time to come. If God was merciful like he had been taught in church as a child, the divine being would take some pity on him and let the mission be over soon. Either that or let someone shoot him and put him out of his misery.
He was half-way tempted to head up to Cover Girl's room and drag her downstairs, whether she was ready or not. One of the mysteries he vowed he would never understand about the female of the species was their abject tardiness and ability to make men wait on them. Instead he forced himself to settle himself back down on the barstool and order another whiskey. Maybe the alcohol would at least make the evening bearable. Not that he was much of a drinker, mind you. But he did need all the help he could get.
"You better lighten up on those or I'll have to carry your ass home, Beach Head."
Her soft, husky voice caught his attention as he slowly set the shot glass down on the mahogany bar. He turned, drawing in a deep breath as he took in the vision before him. Accustomed to seeing her clad in fatigues and dirt smudges from ear to ear, Sgt. Wayne Sneeden recognized for the first time how the female tanker standing there had once belonged to the elite ranks of the fashion model world. He also definitely understood what the hell Hawk had been thinking when he assigned her to the mission.
He swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath while attempting unsuccessfully to find some witty retort rolling around his befuddled brain. "Not hardly," he muttered, all the while thinking to himself he'd like to drag her somewhere private, maybe his room and then.. Well, he couldn't really bring himself to contemplating what would happen after - that was way too distracting, not to mention real for him. He stood up slowly from the chair, praying fervently that his physical response to her presence wouldn't betray him. "You ready?"
"Sure. Let's do it," she said with much more confidence than she felt at the moment. Stunned at the miraculous transformation in the Army Ranger, Courtney couldn't resist the urge to allow her eyes to wander his leanly muscular physique as he stood from the bar stool. Several inches taller than her petite form, the sergeant presented a dangerously sexy representation of the masculine species. Never in a million years she would ever dreamed he could pose such a danger to her willpower and concentration. In the soft warm lighting of the hotel bar, his hair glowed mutely with reddish highlights intermingled through the chocolate brown strands. Her fingers itched to slide through the silky short strands, while the dark navy suit had been cut to accentuate every sinuous muscle hidden beneath.
Wayne's dark brown eyes, flecked with burnished gold, gazed down at her for a brief moment. Gallantly he offered his arm to escort Courtney from the bar to their destination, again startling her with the unusual display of fine manners. She hoped he didn't notice her imperceptible hesitation when she placed her small hand on his arm. Warmth emanated through the fabric to her palm, sending the warmth throughout her body as she berated her self silently for letting him get to her like this. Being this distracted by his proximity could cause the entire operation to backfire, even posed a life-threatening risk for both of them. As they made their way to the ballroom, she steeled herself against the feelings welling up inside of her, knowing full well they would never come to fruition.
"I said, do you have our story straight?" Courtney's voice was tinged with irritation at Beach Head's lack of concentration. She was also puzzled by it. He would have been the last person that she would have seen lose focus. Usually he was too focused for his own good.
Wayne glanced over at her, his face reading slight confusion before his brain registered her question. "Yeah, sure. Don't worry about it. You're the bait and I'm just the bodyguard."
"Not hardly, Wayne."
His eyebrows twitched at her informal use of his Christian name. Courtney noticed his response, and explained patiently, "You better get comfortable with using our names. It'll be stupid move for one of us to slip up and use our call signs while we're here. Nothing tips off a major arms dealer like military slang." She gave him a brilliant smile for absolutely no reason at all.
"You don't have to worry about me, Courtney." He emphasized her name as he held the door open for her. She stopped suddenly, almost causing him to trip over her as he followed her through the door. "What in the.."
"Watch your language!" She hissed at him, then turned around to regard him with her complete attention. Her gaze drifted down his body, assessing with a practiced eye on how he would appear to the enemy. His tie askance, she reached up to straighten it. She whispered, "I would never have guessed you had manners, or is that just part of the act?"
"No, believe it or not, they actually do have some civilization in Alabama, Ms. Krieger." His drawl became more pronounced as he leaned into her. Courtney resisted the urge to lean into him, but he was already close enough to inhale his masculine scent. Wow, she thought to herself, he used cologne and everything. He reached out with one callused hand and tucked a wayward strand of strawberry blond hair back into her simple coiffure. "There. I have to admit, Cover Gi. I mean Courtney, you do clean up right nice." God, that sounded smart, Wayne. Give the lady the idea you're a complete imbecile. "That didn't come out quite right," he whispered back, chagrinned.
She graced him with another one of her smiles, lighting up her entire face. "I get the point, Wayne." Her tongue rolled around the syllables of his name, a stark reminder of other things Wayne would enjoy her tongue to wrap around. He felt his body stiffen at the blatant thought. She rested her hand on his shoulder as she leaned into him long enough to murmur in his ear. "You look wonderful tonight, too."
Then she left him standing there, stunned at the compliment, as she made her way across the floor to the table where their quarry awaited.