21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (111 page)

The man’s grin was both cocky and sincere.
Bastard
. “Then go the long way to your table.” Stuffing her ego into a box, she softened her tone. “Please, Derek? I am meeting someone, and I really want it to go well.”

“Uh huh.” His gaze went from her to the table and back. “And I’m in the way of it going well?”

“You’re in the way of my privacy.” Like Keith, Derek wrecked a number of her dates when he visited. But unlike her brother, his best friend did it because, when he was around, he filled her head.
Hell, I don’t stop thinking about him when he’s not there. But he’s not interested. He made that clear
. “Do me a solid? Go.” She all but shooed him away.

To her horror, he chuckled and slid around her to sit down.

At her table.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, heat blasting through her

“Sitting at my table.” He leaned back in the chair, his expression almost neutral. “Surprise. Apparently, I’m your date.”

No. No. No
.

Her mind locked on that word and chanted it.
Life is not this cruel
. Who was she kidding? Life didn’t have to be cruel, not when Derek’s humor ran to pranks. “Stop fooling around.”

Returning to her seat, she crossed one leg over the other. For the first time since putting on the strapless number, she wished she’d brought a jacket. She felt way too exposed under his assessing gaze.

Covering her nerves, she picked up her wine glass and sipped. “Derek, go find your own table.”

“Why are you meeting someone for a one-night stand?” His low voice raised the hair across her body and a shiver rippled up her spine. Dumbfounded, she stared at him. “Yes, I am aware of what kind of
date
you’re on. What the hell are you thinking meeting a total stranger in a bar for sex?”

Whether because of the judgment in his tone or the cool appraisal in his eyes, her spine stiffened and she lifted her chin. Sitting forward, she set her wine glass down and flattened her palm against the table. “One, I am a grown-ass woman. I do what I want, when I want, with whom I want. Two, you are a
friend
and only a
friend
, as you have categorically reminded me on at least two very poignant occasions, which means you get exactly
no say
in my choices. Three, this is my date, my night off, and I am showered, shaved, and ready to have fun. If you think looking like this was easy, you’re wrong. I’m glad you’re home and you’re safe, but since you couldn’t be bothered to even drop me a text to let me know, you can get your ass up from my table and go the hell away.”

“God, you’re beautiful when you’re pissed.” His wild grin only managed to inflame her temper further. “And since you brought it up—one, I noticed you’re a grown ass-woman, no one could miss your fabulous breasts in that number. Two, I am your
friend
and I will never not be your
friend
. Meeting strangers is dangerous. Having sex with them is stupid. Three, I am your date.”

The waitress came over and smiled. “Are you two ready to order?”

Calling his bluff, Kara looked at the waitress. “Is this the guy you served at this table before I got here?”

Shooting her a puzzled look, the waitress nodded. “Yes, this is Mr. Green’s reservation. Your card was for this table.”

Kara’s stomach sank down to her toes and she didn’t dare look at him. Not when her wine threatened to come back up. How the hell could she have gotten Derek for her one-night stand?

“Could you give us a few minutes, sweetheart? Maybe some fries for an appetizer.” His voice washed over Kara, as if muted by a very great distance.

“Of course.”

“You’re my date.” It sounded stupid to say it out loud.

“I already said that.”

“You’re my date.” She repeated it, all her anticipation evaporating like a popping soap bubble.

“Kara? You okay over there?” His droll tone was colored with concern and she laughed.

“No, I’m not okay. I paid for….”
A night I wouldn’t soon forget so I could put you out of my head once and for all. I wanted some clean fun, a good time, and I get you
. But the words clogged in her throat, unspoken. “I need to go.”

She didn’t make it two steps before his hand clamped on her arm. “Don’t.”

Not looking at him, she shook her head. “This isn’t funny, Derek. Please let me take what little is left of my pride and get the hell out of here.”

“Stay. Have dinner with me.” He cleared his throat. “I know I’m not what you had planned, but we can still have a meal.”

Swiping her tongue over her lower lip, it took effort not to dig her teeth into it. She didn’t need to scrape off her lipstick—although, what did lipstick matter?
This is Derek
. “I didn’t come here for dinner, and you should know that because if you’re my date…you signed up for a one-night stand, too.” Her voice climbed a little on the last, dangling on a slightly hysterical note. Derek tugged her back to the table and she fell into a chair.

“Yeah, I did.” He pulled his chair around and sat, blocking her in and bracketing her legs with his. “But we’re not going to worry about that right now.”

“Really?” She studied him, anger and disappointment brewing a bitter cocktail in her gut. “What happened to ‘meeting strangers is dangerous and having sex with them is stupid’?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched and he said nothing as the waitress delivered the fries. Apparently the waitress sensed the palpable tension, because she left without another word.

Rallying, Kara reached over to pluck a French fry from the basket. Studying the slender length of crispy potato, it hit her. Derek was her date.

Her
date-date
arranged by Madame Eve.

Heat tingled through her and her sex clenched.

She was supposed to be naked with him tonight.

A prearranged, preapproved, agreed-upon sex date. Turning her head, she smiled and let her gaze rove over him.

“What?” Derek demanded, wariness filling his eyes.

“You’re going to have sex with me tonight.”

The tidal wave of lust crashed onto the rocky shore of reality. Her blunt words were meant to shock him, but they only served to heighten the raw need shredding his will. Every emotion Kara experienced played out on her face—from her crushing disappointment to her very blatant interest.

“No.” It nearly strangled him to say the word, but he managed to get it out. “But I will buy you dinner.”

He needed to take control of the situation and fast.

Snorting inelegantly, she picked up her wine glass and leaned forward. The angle gave him an even better view of her breasts than before, and need pounded inside of him with every breath she took.

“Didn’t you read the date requirements when you signed up? It’s a night of casual, no-strings, all-you-can-stand pleasure and fun.”

Keith would have had a coronary if he knew his sister signed up for a service like that.

“And that’s the last of that conversation.” Motioning to her menu, Derek picked up his own. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see the words or her plum scent tickling his nostrils threatened his sanity. Thinking about her brother punctured the craving swelling inside him. “I’m thinking steak. I haven’t had one in a long time.”

“Really? You picked this club, with its private rooms and arrangements, because you were so full of lust…,” she drew the last word out until he locked gazes with her, “for steak?”

How the hell would she know about the private rooms? He’d been surprised by the offer when he booked his reservations, but the concierge explained the Sybarite Club catered to the needs of all its patrons—which included private rooms for the more adventurous. He was fine with a bed and turned down the offer of a toy box, or to have them deliver his own.

Toy box
…. Shaking his head, he reached for his beer. “Yes, I want a steak. A big one. Maybe a baked potato with it.” Stuff that took time to cook and give him time to switch to water—and maybe drown himself in the restroom with a make-shift, cold shower.

Kara chuckled and the soft, throaty sound of it stroked his senses. “You do realize I’m not a virgin nor have I been hoodwinked, fooled, or somehow tricked into being here? No one took advantage of me.”

Her virginity hadn’t occurred to him, but since she brought it up…. “Who was he?”

“Why? Jealous?” She tapped a polished nail against the side of her glass. “You don’t get to be jealous, Derek. Not when you’ve turned me down twice and tonight, if you keep this up, will be a third strike and you’re out.”

Snapping the menu closed, he gave her a hard, heated look. “Kara, this isn’t a game.”

“I’ve never pretended this was a game. I’ve never had to pretend anything with you—or at least I didn’t think I did.” She pursed her lips. “But I needed tonight for me, and it wasn’t about you. So, if you’re really going to play the stick-in-the-mud—eat your dinner. I’ll contact the service and cancel this and see if she can make me other arrangements.” Kara drained her wine glass and rose, but Derek caught her wrist.

“Don’t.” It wasn’t a request. He’d never been a grabby kind of guy, and as unexpected as her presence was, he felt perversely grateful for it and didn’t want her to leave.

Ever.

“Don’t what?” It wasn’t the anger under her words or the heat flashing in her eyes that undid him, but the hurt glimmering just beneath the surface.

Exhaling slowly, he nodded to her chair. “Kara. Sit down. Please.” He tacked the last word on as an afterthought. Touching her had been a mistake, but he didn’t let go of her wrist. He rubbed his thumb against the silky smooth skin, aware of the erratic beat of her pulse.

She sank back into the chair. He’d expected more of a fight. At her tug, he let go of her arm, but didn’t retreat from her space. Being so close to her intoxicated him.

“What do you want from me, Derek?” She looked at him and then away. The corners of her mouth tightened and her eyes shimmered. A study in contrasts—tough, but vulnerable.

“I’ve missed you.” Blunt honesty was the best he could do.

“Yeah, that’s why I hear from you so often.” Anger surged around the words and her jaw tightened. “And not that I’m not happy to see you—wait, I’m not happy to see you, and do you want to know why?”

Her tongue swiped over her full lower lip and the action riveted him. He ached to trace it with his own tongue and kiss her luscious mouth until they both panted from lack of oxygen.

“Because you see me as some punk-ass kid instead of a woman. I came out tonight because I needed this, I wanted it, and instead I get the guy who can’t wait to put a thousand miles between us and acts like a scalded cat if I touch him.” As if to prove her point, she cupped his cheek. Her palm seemed softer against the roughness of his skin.

The scent of plum blossoms filled his nostrils with every breath and the fire of his desire roared to full life. It physically hurt to be so close and not touch her. All the rational reasons why wanting her was a bad idea played through his mind.

She was his best friend’s kid sister.

Keith asked him to look after her.

Keith died.

And Derek promised….

“She’s young. She’s gonna grow up and marry herself some fancy doctor or a lawyer, the kind of guy who comes home every night and kisses his wife and makes sure she has everything she needs.” Keith rested against the railing of the sloped porch of his parents’ house. Derek had been forced to stand and look forebodingly at the kid picking Kara up for her senior prom.

That part hadn’t been hard.

Watching her get in the limo with the lean basketball player—that cut.

“She deserves better than us, Der. You know that.” Keith didn’t fool around. Ten times smarter than Derek, Keith could have gone on scholarship to any number of schools, but he enlisted right alongside Derek’s foolhardy ass. They were good at what they did.

He nodded. “Yep.”

“Okay, then stop staring at her like you can imagine her naked or I’ll bust your nose. Again.” The friendly warning lacked any real menace, but Keith didn’t pull his punches.

He’d broken Derek’s nose twice before—once by accident and once because Derek mentioned taking Kara out. He thought Keith objected to their differences, but Keith never focused on the race card—instead he always pointed to the goals-in-life disparity. Derek was a Marine and Keith wanted more for his sister.

The reasons for staying away all crumbled to ash in his soul, licked up by the greedy, hot flame of need.

“Are you seriously going to sit there and stare at me?” she demanded and pulled away.

He caught her wrist and rubbed his cheek against her palm. “Shh.”

“Did you just shush me?”

He could almost see the mercury rising on her temper. Leaning forward, he captured her face in his hands and kissed her. The first brush of his mouth on hers was hard—he meant it as a lesson—but she met his force with her own demand. Opening to the invasion of his tongue, she tasted even better than he remembered.

Kissing her was the sweetest mistake he’d ever made. Silencing her turned carnal, and she drew him in, captivating him completely. What few shreds of reason remained sounded the alarm, but he ignored it. By the time he pulled back, they both panted.

Leaving the table for the room he’d booked roared through his mind—a room with a bed, soundproof walls, and utter privacy. Blunting the edge of his passion on some stranger was supposed to make facing her so much easier.

But he didn’t want any other woman.

He hadn’t in a really long time.

The dazed look in her eyes gratified him, but he wanted more. Rising, he grabbed his jacket and her wrap and tugged her to her feet. For the first time in he didn’t know how long, she offered no protest or sharp retort. Guiding her through the restaurant, he caught the host’s eye and nodded to the private door the man showed him to earlier. It was open by the time they reached it.

Kara threatened to book another date, another one-night stand with some stranger, and he didn’t doubt for a second that she would do it. The hallway was well-lit and quiet, the closing door muting the sounds on the other side. He walked deliberately, identifying each room number until reaching number eight—his new favorite number. Inserting the key card, he unlocked it and guided her in.