Read 21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales Online
Authors: Heather Long
Tags: #Marines, Romance
But to protect her, he’d needed to let her go. He pushed the empty, lonely moments away. She was there.
He leaned back. “Where’s Libby?”
“Across the street—at the other hotel with your mom and dad.”
His parents were there? He frowned then laughed. Of course they were.
“I hope you don’t mind—I wanted the chance to see you—and let you see the new me. By ourselves.” Her smile never faltered.
He brushed the hair back behind her ear, marveling at the change in her. She was still the same, beautiful woman who’d captivated him all those months ago. The air of fragility, however, was gone.
“Of course I don’t mind. I can be greedy with my girls one at a time.” Was she still his girl? The increasing wattage in her grin eased that concern.
She held up a key. “I wanted to invite you out to dinner—but how do you feel about room service?”
His body pulsed at the suggestion. But he wouldn’t leap to any conclusions. “I could eat on a park bench with you.”
Melody tossed her head back and laughed, the full, throaty sound echoing with genuine mirth. She had changed—and all for the positive. Her shell cracked wide open and revealed the beautiful woman underneath. He shifted and offered his arm. She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, and his chest puffed out with pride as they walked across the lobby to the elevator.
“How long are you here?” He wouldn’t press for more, not yet.
Inside the elevator, she pushed a button for an upper floor. “A week right now. I have some job interviews lined up, and if they work out, I could be here longer.”
He nodded, ordering his inner excitement to calm down. “Let me know if I can help. I have connections, you know.”
The doors opened and they strolled out together. She motioned to the left and he turned. “You didn’t even ask what kind of job I’m looking for.” Her grin turned impish.
“Don’t care. You’ll be amazing and anyone who hires you will be damn lucky if you agree to work for them.” Few things in life were so certain for him. This was definitely one. “But since you brought it up, what is your degree in?”
She giggled and slid the card key into the door. He pushed it open and held it for her and she strolled inside. God, she was so amazing. The confident, sassy sway to her hips drove most of his good intentions toward a cliff and tossed them off the edge.
Dropping the card and her purse on the dresser next to the flat screen television, she pivoted to face him. “Accounting.”
“Ugh.” He made a face. “Accounting?”
“Oh yeah. I’m the sexy accountant. I think numbers are hot.” The playfulness took his breath away. Walking up to him, she settled a hand against his chest. “Like the number of times you held my hand—”
He heard the suggestion in the words and set his cover on the closest table before capturing her hand on his chest with his own. His heart thumped.
“Or how many times I thought about how gorgeous you were.” She rolled her pink tongue across her lower lip and the last of his good intentions. “Or how often I wished I’d kissed you—”
He slanted his mouth over hers. Electricity sizzled through him, like coming home and flinging himself into a hurricane all at the same time. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he stroked his hands down her spine. She fit him perfectly, her soft, sweet contours molding to his body.
The plan to take her out to dinner, maybe a little dancing, spoil her with presents and lavish her with attention fizzled out. Gliding his tongue along the seam of her lips, he sought and received access. Her mouth opened to him like a flower drinking in the sun. She tasted of honey, sweet tea, and lazy summer nights. A man could get drunk on the flavor of her.
When they came up for air, he panted. “That’s one.”
She blinked at him slowly. “What?”
“That’s one kiss. I have so many others I want to try.” He nuzzled her cheek, the warm skin so soft beneath his lips. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and laughed.
The seductive sound went straight to his dick, rousing a whole new collection of thoughts and wants—like stripping the dress off and kissing every inch of her sensuous body. He wanted to hear her sigh and more. He wanted to feel her come. He wanted to chase away any lingering shadows and fill them with pleasure until they were both drunk from it.
“I have a plan,” she said and went to work on the buttons of his jacket. Yes, this was definitely a plan he could appreciate.
“Yeah? I like plans.” He found the zipper on the back of her dress and nudged it downward.
“I’m going to find a job.” She pushed his shoulders back so she could strip the jacket down his arms. He let go of her long enough to lose it and set it aside.
Her dress gaped over her shoulders and gave him a glimpse of her breasts filling out the lacy cups. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. She stepped back and let the dress slide down her arms and pool at her feet. His brain short-circuited. She wore a delicate lace bra and a pair of matching boy shorts. Every inch of her was creamy smooth and sweet as sugar. “And a nice place to live. Something not too expensive, but in a nice neighborhood.”
“Uh huh.” He allowed the luxury of tracing a finger along the lip of her bra, just barely touching her skin. The nipple puckered beneath the fabric.
She went to work on his belt. “And I want to date—a lot.”
He flicked his gaze up to her face. “I’m sorry.”
“I want to date
you
a lot. I want to go out to nice dinners, to movies, dancing, social functions….”
She unbuttoned his fly and his cock tensed at the nearness of her hand. He nudged off his shoes and slid one finger under the strap of her bra. A smile curved her lips, and she pushed the pants open and down his hips. He let her go and stepped out. Their underwear was all that stood between them.
She wore confidence like lingerie—and damn she could rock it.
“So just dating?” he asked, closing the distance between them. He wanted to see her breasts.
She ran her hands up and down his chest, and he traced his fingers along her spine. She’d filled out in the intervening months. All soft curves and glowing skin.
“And other—recreational activities.” A hint of shyness veiled the boldness in her eyes.
He grinned, tugging her bra away until her breasts came free. “I like recreational activities.”
He wasn’t sure if he should slow down, but he took his time. Touching her arms, gliding caresses over her shoulders and back, finally circling one breast. The stiff nipples beckoned him, but he listened to the inner voice urging patience.
She mirrored his touches, running her palms over his chest. Her eyes widened and she stared at him. He knew she focused on the scars from the bullet wounds or the pale skin around the line of a surgical incision. The field work hadn’t been pretty.
“I’m really interested in embracing the recreational activities.” She lifted her gaze to meet his and leaned into him until her breasts brushed his chest. His cock gave a little jerk and she laughed. “I know it might seem fast.”
“No.” He stroked his hand through her hair. “It doesn’t seem like anything. It’s perfect. What happens after the dating and recreational activities?” He focused on the conversation because his body was already four steps ahead and wanting her on the bed, straddling him, riding his cock until they both pitched into bliss.
She pressed a kiss to his collar bone, the tender gesture spearing through him. “Well, I thought we could take an inventory every six months or so. See where you were and I am and maybe in a year, you would propose and we would have a big wedding and in a couple of years—give Libby a baby brother or sister.” Her teeth grazed along his throat, little nipping kisses that drove all the blood out of his brain and south.
Closing his hands on her ass, he tugged her closer and tortured himself with a slow grind against her. She groaned and then their mouths fused. He lifted her, his back letting out the tiniest of protests, but he ignored it. Sitting on the bed, he pulled her onto his lap until she straddled him. The fabric of her panties and his briefs kept his cock contained, but the languid roll of her rubbing along his length threatened the last shred of his control.
“So,” he murmured between kisses, “find a job. Find an apartment. Date. Make love. Propose, Wedding. Baby. That’s the plan?”
She let out a shaky breath and stared at him. The first trace of uncertainty filtered into her eyes. “If you—if you’re okay with that.”
He groaned softly. “Baby, I’m okay with anything that means I get to be with you and you’re happy. I love you.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I love you, too. I don’t know when or how—but not a moment goes by when I haven’t thought about you or wanted to be here—right here—just like this. But I also wanted to be whole for you, for me, for—” She choked on the words.
He kissed the tears trickling down her cheeks. “For our little girl. I know and it’s why I waited and worked on me. No more whiskey tango foxtrot.”
“No. No more—just us.”
“Us. I’m going to make love to you now.” He cupped her breast, caressing the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, and he caught her lips in a long kiss. She surged, straining against him.
“Okay. That’s skipping ahead in the plan.”
Her shaky laugh deepened with a husky note and he lifted, flipping her around until she lay on the bed and he loomed over her. Hooking his fingers into her panties, he stripped them down.
The sight of the blonde curls between her thighs damn near made him come on the spot. He wondered if she understood the depth of how much he wanted her. “Then let me eat first—so we can call this a date….”
Nudging her thighs apart, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her leg, and she let out a moan that rolled over him like a physical caress.
“Joe—” she whispered.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” He licked her sex in a gentle kiss and groaned at the sweet flavor bursting on his tongue. He teased her with soft licks, and long pulls on her clit. He wanted to be inside her, and that thought sobered him. He lifted his head, fighting for control.
Son of a bitch
.
“What’s wrong?” She pushed up onto her elbows.
“I didn’t think to bring—” He could do this—he could give her pleasure.
“My purse.”
“What?” It was his turn to blink.
“There are condoms in my purse.”
“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to her clit and sucked hard until she thrashed.
“Oh my God. I know—but get the condom….”
He laughed, pushing free of the bed, then flipped open the catch on her bag. And there they were, waiting like the best prizes in the box—three condoms. He admired her faith in him. Sheathing himself, he all but fell into her waiting arms and thrust inside her.
Her kisses grew more eager and their tongues dueled. Her fingers became frantic as she pulled at his shoulders. They surged together until he forgot all the long months keeping them apart. Her orgasm triggered his and he came with a force that took his breath away.
They lay together, drowsy and replete. He cradled her. She was so pale to his darker skin, and so perfect in the complement. She’d taken his heart the night he’d knocked on her door and she opened it with such caution and trepidation. It hadn’t been easy and they still had a long road to travel.
She opened her eyes and he lifted her head to look at him. The adoration in her face filled him with the most extraordinary glee. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t been easy.
“Would you mind if we amended the plan to six months of dating and then moving in together?” He grinned slowly. “I promise you’ll still get a romantic proposal.”
“I think I’m open to negotiation.”
“Excellent.” He caressed her hip. “It could take us several rounds to hammer out the details.”
She stretched against him and kissed his jaw. “Are you up to the assignment, Marine?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am.” Scorching heat licked along his flesh and his cock twitched. “I’m definitely up for it.”
“You’re easy.” The lighthearted note in her voice made his soul sing.
She
made his soul sing. God knew their lives hadn’t been about the easy moments—but she was a survivor, they both were.
“Only for you.” With her by his side, he could handle anything.
Always a Marine - Book 12
The Challenge Series
By
Heather Long
~Dedication~
For all those who have suffered from PTSD and the families and friends who support them
.
Matt McCall tapped his knuckles against the underside of the table and fidgeted. A bad sign. No matter how often he tried to stop, he couldn’t contain his hyperactivity. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. The Beretta M9 sat in front of him. All he needed to do was slide the clip in and pick it up.