Read 21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales Online
Authors: Heather Long
Tags: #Marines, Romance
21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales
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21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales
Copyright © 2015 by Heather Long
ISBN: 978-1-61333-793-6
Cover art by Mina Carter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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21 Marine Salute:
21 Always a Marine Tales
By
Heather Long
Includes:
Retreat Hell! She Just Got Here
What Part of Marine Don’t You Understand?
Have Yourself a Marine Christmas
I never planned to write “military romance.” I didn’t wake up one morning and think, huh, I should write military heroes and the men and women who love them. In fact, it was the last thing on my mind until I wrote about Luke Dexter, a retired Marine, in
Once Her Man, Always Her Man
. He left the woman he loved when he enlisted because at eighteen he didn’t figure on surviving. He was a young man going to war to defend his country—and he grew up to become a man, a Marine, and an officer.
The level of honor I discovered in this one hero, drove me to explore others. We’re a country that has been at war for over a decade. We’ve an entire generation who has known nothing but this activity and who have seen their fathers, brothers, sons, sisters, daughters, and wives serve overseas in hot zones.
Keeping It Real
As romantic as military heroes are, I like to keep it real. Most of the heroes I wrote at first were retired or no longer on active duty. But for those still on active duty—they don’t have control over everything they do because they have to be on call 24/7 even when they’re on leave.
They can’t always commit to a lifetime because their lives aren’t their own. At the end of
Her Marine
, Brody had to go because his leave was only for a couple of weeks. He enjoyed his time with Shannon and you know that he and Shannon are in touch, but he can’t just “quit” and stay with her for a happily ever after.
They Don’t Get To Pick
Applying for jobs or assignments in the military can take time and dedication and clearance. So when you get an assignment you’ve wanted, you can’t just change things overnight because you met someone. The same is true for the potential military spouse—they have to be ready to pick up and move when their spouse gets orders.
The best part of this series is putting a human face on these people who are dedicated to our country and give up what so many of us expect as essential freedoms. I respect and admire those who love them for the sacrifices they have to make as well. At the end of the day, our military and their families are heroes because they go to the places no one wants to be and they do it, knowing they might not return.
The friendships forged, the class walls that collapse, the fact that in the military you aren’t a race, or an economic status or a region—you’re Marines—battle buddies, comrades, companions, and their relationships are forged through your shared experiences.
They are the few and the proud…
Every hero or heroine I write inspires me. The
Always a Marine
series fills me with an inexplicable hope—because it’s these men and women who protect my way of life.
Semper Fi
Heather
Always a Marine - Book 1
A 1Night Stand Story
by
Heather Long
~
DEDICATION
~
For every spouse, child, or parent who waited for their Marine to come home.
They also serve, who stand and wait.
Luke Dexter handed his keys over to the red-corseted valet driver, his gaze skimming the generous globes peeking above the open buttons of her white shirt.
The Sybarite Club definitely offers the Dallas area generous access to every pleasure
. He slipped a membership card from his leather wallet and displayed it to the doorman. A tall, lanky figure dressed in topcoat and tails, the man exuded a sense of elegance that the club’s exclusive clientele enjoyed.
Examining the card, he scanned it with a small device before handing it back to him. Luke admired the caginess of the action. A pen scanner would be out of place with the old world atmosphere encouraged by the man’s uniform. “Good evening, Mr. Dexter. Welcome to the Sybarite Club.”
He passed through the opening double wide doors. Their gothic style was dark cherry, aged like a fine wine and decorated with wood cut carvings of a man and woman engaged in cunnilingus and fellatio. The subtle joining left each crying out in pleasure when the door opened, only to be reunited when the doors closed.
Amused by the art, he smiled before plunging into the velvet darkness of the club’s jazz-infused atmosphere. Every night featured a different style of music, but Fridays were reserved for jazz. Old world, cool, smooth music with smoky voices, haunting guitars and lonely horns played to the soul. The doors barely closed behind him when his phone buzzed.
Pulling it out, he thumbed it on. A new message from Madame Evangeline of the 1Night Stand dating service populated the screen. She’s dressed in green silk and sitting at the bar. Remember, Luke, life doesn’t always offer a second chance….
Clicking the screen off, he walked down the four red-carpeted steps into the lounge proper. He’d only agreed to the dating service in a show of solidarity with the men in his unit. Many of his men struggled with reintegration and forming new relationships. He couldn’t excuse himself from that same issue or the expected invitation to the Sybarite Club. His gaze roamed the room, coming to a halt and fastening on a pair of to-die-for tan legs at the bar. The sweet length of them, one crossed over the other and ended in black heels with crystals glittering around dainty feet.
A green skirt skimmed her knees. He studied the line of her back, curious about the rest of her. His gaze slid higher to the pile of unruly auburn hair fighting to escape a pair of crystal hair combs.
As though sensing his appraisal, the mystery woman turned on the bar stool and his heart tripped.
Rebecca
….
***
Eleven years earlier
….
She raced across the field, the sunrise illuminating auburn hair streaming behind her. Luke paused, football helmet in hand. His heart squeezed every time he saw her. He’d known her since kindergarten, dated her since the day she’d turned sixteen and now in the autumn of their senior year, he couldn’t believe she still showed up two hours early for school every morning just to watch him practice and eat breakfast with him.
The guys razzed him about being whipped, but he ignored their ribbing. After all,
he
had Rebecca. He opened his arms and braced himself for the crushing hug as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He adored her enthusiastic greetings. He’d adore them more if he weren’t battered, bruised and battened down in football pads.
“Good morning!” She kissed him, simple, sweet and sensational.
“G’morning, sunshine.” He chuckled, nuzzling the corner of her mouth and the scrape of sugar that alerted him to powdered donuts for breakfast. His heart squeezed again. Powdered donuts were his favorite, but he had a strict diet during the season, a diet that she managed to add at least one powdered donut meal to per week.
Two of the new guys catcalled, but his co-captain, Brent, shoved the whistlers onward to follow the rest of the team. After a year of her openly affectionate displays, the team was used to Lowell High’s lovebirds.
She waved to Brent and leaned back, tilting her head toward Luke. “You didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“History paper,” he sighed. “Really couldn’t give a damn about the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, but Mr. Paulette didn’t ask for my opinion.”
“Only the facts, Mr. Dexter, or take a seat and zip it.” She dropped her voice an octave, mimicking their world history teacher. Her perfect white teeth bit her lower lip. “Want me to read it over while you practice?”
“Yes, I’m not too proud to admit it, either. It’s in my backpack.” Setting her down, he carefully avoided giving her rump a good squeeze. As affectionate as she was, she had boundaries. Explicit boundaries he respected. No sex in private or carnal petting in public. Of course, that didn’t stop him from looking at her perfect heart-shaped rear. She always complained about her weight and wanted to lose ten pounds.
He really had no idea why, either. Curvy as hell, she filled out her shirts and jeans beautifully and he loved wrapping his arms around her. She felt real against him. The one time he’d gotten her shirt off, he’d gaped at the sweet roundness of her breasts peeking out over the simple white bra. Her nipples stiffened under the fabric, dark and dusky. He’d damn near choked on his own drool at the thought of being able to touch them with his lips.
Maybe after homecoming
.
“What are you thinking about?” She set her bag down on the riser next to his.
“You.” He admitted. “Naked.”
She laughed. “You need to think about your end zone and running backs and whatever it is they were doing that got you tackled yesterday.”
And her lack of knowledge about football never stopped her from coming to practice and showing up at every game, even the away ones, to cheer him on. When they’d made divisional the previous year, only strep throat kept her home. Worried about her, he’d sucked hard during that game.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to think about their butts or how they look naked.”
Her cheeks pinkened, a ripe, sweet color and his heart jerked and shook like a dog with a toy.
