Honeybun Hottie (Plus Size Romance 5) (5 page)

“Yes.  How’d you know?”

“Shelly.”

“God, she’s such a blabbermouth.”

“A blabbermouth who loves you very much,” he said, realizing in that moment, he loved Blythe, too. 

Kicking his cabin door off the hinges, he whisked her across the threshold.  The second he had her situated on his bed, he made haste getting the anti-venom.  She was still sniffing back tears, but he was proud of how calm she had been.  Gently taking her extended arm in his hand, he felt for the best vein.  He quickly swiped the injection site with alcohol and tied the tourniquet above her brachial artery.  Then he inserted the needle into the vial, filling the syringe with the precious, life-saving drug.  With a steady hand, he injected it. 

He watched her closely as she let her head drop back against his pillow.  She sighed and smiled.

“I think it’s working already.  The god-awful searing pain in my ankle has stopped.  I don’t feel like I’m going to toss my honeybun now.”

I’m glad,” he said, winking.  “That would be a terrible waste of a pastry.”

She giggled.  “I know, right? By the way, did you ever decide on my nickname? Am I Honeybun Hottie or Honeybun Hothead?”

He smiled.  “Well you’re a hottie for sure, but stomping around, provoking a poisonous snake was a pretty damn hotheaded thing to do.”

The look on her face turned serious.  “I’m sorry, Sean.  I should have trusted you.”

“It’s okay.  In all fairness, trouble seems to find us anytime we’re together.”

“True.  But now that you’ve disposed of an assassin and a deadly reptile, we should be in the clear for a while.”

He nodded.  “One can only hope.”  

AS RAYS OF EARLY morning sunshine streamed across the bed, Blythe yawned and stretched.  For a few seconds she felt disoriented, not remembering where she was.  With her head still resting against the pillow—
his
pillow—it all came flooding back.

Bolting upright, she was preparing to flee.  She had no idea why the old fight-or-flight response was kicking in again.  Maybe it was because last night had brought about a breakthrough, and that scared the hell out of her.  She should feel happy, relaxed, relieved.  But sometimes there was a certain comfort in holding on to past hurts.  Even if it was unhealthy, dysfunctional and somewhat twisted, it was familiar and preferable to the unknown.  Despite the fact Sean had never given her a reason not to, she still didn’t know if she could fully trust him.  Sure, he had saved her life twice.  The dangers he had seen were real, not imaginary.  On a conscious level, she knew he was a stable, normal man and a damn good soldier.  But, subconsciously, her old fears continued to bubble beneath the surface.

Slowly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, stood and cautiously tested her ankle.  She had expected it to be sore, swollen and tender.  Amazingly, it felt fine.  She shook her head.  Sergeant Warrington was a jack of all trades: a leader, warrior, protector and healer.  Was there nothing this man couldn’t do? Calling out to him, she took a look around his cabin.  He was nowhere to be found. 

Blythe checked her watch; it was six o’clock.  He was probably conducting roll call.  She should get back to her cabin, shower, change into some clean clothes and find out what her schedule was for the day.  Based on the shape those teenagers had been in yesterday, they would most definitely need some counseling today.

She was slipping on her Keds when Sean came bounding through the door.  He hadn’t bothered to put it back on its hinges from last night.

“Good morning,” he beamed.  “Sleep well?”

As a matter of fact, she had.  Now that he had asked, she couldn’t remember sleeping so soundly in her whole life. 

“I did.  How about you?”

He grinned mischievously.  “Like a baby.”

“Exactly
where
did you sleep, Sergeant?”

He cut his eyes toward the only bed in the cabin.  “Beside the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Oh God!” she gasped.  “Did we? I mean, you and I didn’t—
did
we?”

The richness of his laughter filled the room.  “If we had, Honeybun Hottie, you wouldn’t have to ask.  Don’t worry.  Your virtue was safe with me.  I’m a marine, remember?  We never force ourselves on unsuspecting, helpless snakebite victims.  When you and I make love, you’ll be fully awake, wanting it more than anything you’ve ever wanted before.”

Secretly, she loved his confidence but couldn’t resist challenging him.  “Why would I even consider having sex with a cocky, smug-ass soldier like you?”

“Because I come bearing your favorite coffee and pastry.”

She furrowed her brow.  “You went to my cabin? Rummaged through my suitcases?”

“Technically, all the cabins are
mine
.  And I didn’t have to rummage at all.  You had a whole pile of honeybuns on your nightstand along with this.”

Her face burned a deep red when he held out a well-worn copy of her favorite steamy romance,
Dominant Seduction
.  The one with the really racy cover where the shirtless hero is kneeling behind the heroine, his hand cradling her neck, kissing her passionately.  She seductively blindfolded, hands bound in front of her by silk scarves.

Blythe’s anger was fueled by embarrassment.  Her pride wouldn’t let her do anything short of lashing out.  She slapped the book out of Sean’s hand and flailed her arms at him in a pitiful attempt at a physical assault.  Even as she railed against him, she couldn’t help but imagine him subduing her and having his naughty way with her.

He was fast as lightning.  In one swift motion, he set down the food tray with one hand and caught both her wrists with the other. 

He smiled wickedly.  “You don’t strike me as the submissive type, Miss Dalton.  Are you sure you want to bring this hot little fantasy of yours to life?” he asked, gesturing toward the book lying open to a page she had dog-eared.  A scene so good she had read it a hundred times.

Her gaze was unwavering as she met his.  “Yes, Sergeant.  I’m quite sure.”

SEAN SURE AS SHIT hadn’t seen that coming.  Blythe had shocked him with her raw, honest answer.  He was positive it had cost her and that somehow made it all the sweeter.  She had no way of knowing it, but he was a natural-born dominate.  Hell, he hadn’t even realized he wanted to act on his secret needs until he met her. 

Looking back, it was clear as a bell.  His deeply hidden desire was the reason he had pinned her against a big oak in Langston with rough bark digging into her back.  The reason he had tried to provoke her when she arrived at camp yesterday.  By forcing a flare of her temper, he could justify sensuously manhandling her. 

Holding her throat in his hand, knowing he had the power to snap it like a twig had been a greater rush than any he had ever felt in combat.  It was probably what had driven him to invade her privacy and bring her spicy little romance to light. 

If he hadn’t known it before, he was certain now.  Blythe Dalton had been made just for him. Giving her his most seductive smile, he said, “Let’s play.”

“Wait,” she gasped.

He furrowed his brow.  “Second thoughts so soon?”

“What about the rest of the staff?”

“I’m not interested in an orgy, Blythe.  I’m more of a one-on-one kind of a guy.”

She rolled her eyes.  “No, silly.  I mean won’t they and the campers wonder where we are?  Or worse, what if they hear us or see us while we’re, you know—”

He chuckled.  “They’d have to have damn good hearing and eyesight to catch us in the act from way up there,” he said, pointing toward the first ridge on the gigantic mountain sitting directly across the lake.

“You sent them away so you could seduce me?”

Cupping her cheek with his huge hand, he gently stroked it with his thumb.  “Well, someone thinks a lot of herself.  It’s true.  I did want to be alone with you.  I have since the moment you arrived yesterday.”  His voice was hoarse with desire.  “But that’s not why I sent them away.”

“It’s not?” she asked breathlessly.

“No.  The hike is the first step in my program.  After the initial meet and greet, which is usually intense, the campers go on a guided hike up the mountain.  The arts and crafts coordinator, the nurse and one of my men handle things for me.”

Her cute face flashed confusion.  “Why don’t you go with them? I thought these kids were super important to you.”

He let his hand drop from her face. A pensive look covered his.  “Other than you, my beautiful Blythe, they’re the most important people in the whole world to me.  But I can’t help them in their current state of mind.  At this stage they are unmalleable.”

“I don’t understand.  How will a hike change anything?”

“It changes everything.  The physical exertion combined with the sensory overload softens their resistance, making them more receptive and open to my training.  Nature is a powerful thing, Blythe.  Seeing the majestic mountain before them, hiking its magnificent terrain and conquering it is empowering.  It restores their self-worth, making them feel as though they can do anything.  More importantly, it’s humbling.  Surrounded by thousand-year-old trees that stand taller than skyscrapers sends a silent but deafening message.  One that says,
We’re not alone
. 
There’s something in this crazy, fucked-up world that’s bigger than us and all our problems.
  Once these kids get that, then I can work with them.  Teach them coping and survival skills.  Productive ways to express their anger, frustration and pain.  Ways that will keep them out of jail.”

Blythe released a long, slow breath.  “What you do is incredible.”

He shook his head.  “These kids are incredible.  They just don’t know it yet.”

“How does the art come into play?”

“Once they reach the first summit, Shelly will set up easels and tell them to paint the sunset.  I’m always astounded by their pictures from the first hike.  No matter how rich or bright the colors, most of them will paint the skyline as black or grey.”

“Why?”

“It’s a reflection of their souls.  The way they see the world.  Everything is dark and unredeemable.  By summer’s end, they will hike the same trail. When instructed to paint the sunset, the colors on their canvases will pop with a brilliant palette of pinks, blues, oranges and yellows.  After only three months at Camp Semper Fi, the world will look and feel like a whole different place to them.  Despair will be replaced with hope.  Depression with joy.  Fear with peace. Zero self-esteem with utter confidence.  I never grow tired of watching their transformation.  Each time it is nothing short of miraculous.”

IN LESS THAN FORTY-EIGHT hours, Blythe had been transformed.  She had gone from a woman who wanted to spend her summer vacation alone to one who couldn’t imagine being away from the man standing before her.  A man who, three months ago, she never wanted to see again.  Now, she was at his camp, in his cabin, being wooed by his words.  They weren’t flowery, poetic, romantic ones; but, they were much more powerful.  These words showed her the beauty of his heart.  The strength of his soul.  The depth of his character.  He truly was a good man. A good marine. One she could depend on.  Feel safe with.  Trust with every fiber of her being. One she wanted to make love to more than anything.

Being a well-trained soldier, he should be able to handle the element of surprise. She giggled to herself as the naughtiest of plans formed in her mind.  Yes, she wanted him to dominate her.  And there would be plenty of time for that but, at this moment, she wanted to be the one to call the shots.

Taking him by the hand, she led him back to the bed.  Her hands caressed his biceps as she slowly, seductively turned him so his back was to the edge of the mattress.  Her fingers fluttered over his big, broad shoulders and down his chest.  She rested them there for a moment, gazing into his eyes.  They reflected the want and need in her own.  Smiling wickedly, she shoved him down on the bed and echoed his earlier words.  “Let’s play.”

When he hit the mattress, instead of falling onto his back, he caught himself with his hands.  In a seated position with his muscular thighs spread, he was breathtaking.  His erection strained against the camouflage material of his pants.  His breath was coming hard when he spoke.  “I think this is all backwards.  I’m the one who’s supposed to be doing the dominating here, not you.  You’re the one who’s supposed to submit.”

She bit her bottom lip.  “I am.  I’m submitting to your pleasure, sir,” she cooed, kneeling between his powerful legs.

He sucked in a sharp breath when her delicate hand stroked the full length of his rock-hard cock. Once.  Twice.  Three times.

Blythe wanted to taste him so badly.  To watch him lose all control as she sucked him off.  To feel his long fingers tightening in her hair while she milked him with her mouth.

His entire body tensed when she slowly unzipped his pants, reaching inside the fold of his black cotton briefs.  Her torturous tugging pulled a deep groan from his chest.  When he finally sprang free, it was all he could do not pick her up under her arms, suspend her in the air, then push her sweet pussy down over his aching manhood.