Marine Ever After (Always a Marine) (6 page)

“Lift this foot, baby,” he instructed. She gave him a dazed look, pleasure dilating her pupils, and obeyed. Spreading her thighs wider, he bent his head and gave her a long lick from her entrance to her clit.

Her long, low moan echoed in his ears and he repeated the gesture. One taste and he craved a second and a third. Squeezing her ass, he held her still as his lust overrode his control. He loved the excitement in her rising moans and gasps. Every sound drove him further.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmured and locked his mouth around her clit, sucking it hard. She squirmed, her body bowing, her thighs moving against him, her hips bucking even as he fought to keep her still. He pulled back, easing off the pressure. She trembled and her sweet, dragging ‘no’ begged him for permission. Vibrating his tongue to her clit, he shoved her over the edge until her scream echoed off the walls.

He kissed the mound above her sex and then along her thighs, nibbling the soft flesh at the juncture between her leg and her sex. He enjoyed the taste of her passion. Kissing a path up her body, he lavished her breasts and crawled higher to look into her pleasure-drenched face. She reached for him and he kissed her hard. Wrapping her arms around him, she clasped her legs around his hips.

The heat of her sex rubbed his cock and he groaned into her mouth. With a little shift and twist, he’d be inside her. He flattened a hand on the bed and shoved up, breaking the kiss. Her drowsy expression was delectable. Heart thudding out of control, he reached for the condoms on the nightstand.

Ripping the foil, he never let go of her gaze. “Do you want to talk?” Yeah, his need for control warred with his need to hear her.

“No.” She smiled, and nodded to the condom.

“Ahh. You need this.” He sheathed his cock and braced himself. He didn’t want to come as soon as he slid inside of her. But holy hell, he wanted in her now. Settling back into position, he entered with one, swift thrust. Her inner muscles clamped him like a vise as he pulled out and pushed back in.

“Hang onto me, sweet Lily.” He teetered on the edge of his orgasm and he wanted her to have another before he came. She had to have another. Rocking in and out of her, he didn’t know how he managed the rhythm. “Look at me.”

Their gazes locked and he slid a hand between them, stroking her clit. She writhed beneath him and dug her nails into his shoulders. Her mouth opened in a cry, and it wasn’t yes, or no.

It was his name.

She convulsed, her orgasm dragging him deeper into her, and pulling him with her. His orgasm stormed through him, ripping him apart as he came with blazing torrent of molten heat, the flames burning him up from the inside. Collapsing on top of her, he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

He didn’t know which one of them shook—maybe both. Lifting his head, he studied her beautiful expression. Rapt joy filled her glorious smile.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered. And she was. The most amazing, submissive, sweet woman he’d ever held in his arms.

“No.” She denied it with a slow shake of her head. “You are. That was…I don’t have the words for that.” Another series of quakes clamped her sex around his softening cock and he choked on the overload of sensation.

He never wanted to let her go.

Chapter Five

She woke slowly, cocooned in warmth, her body aching in every right way. Stretching her arm out from the covers, she shifted with care. A heavy weight rested on her waist. Glancing down, she studied the arm wrapped around her. It surprised her and didn’t in the same moment.

Blaming alcohol for sexual escapades had never been a concept she embraced. Hell, even if she wanted to blame drinking, she couldn’t. She’d had exactly one sip of champagne during the toast, and stuck to water and coffee for the rest of the night.

No, she lay naked in bed with a man because that’s exactly where she wanted to be—last night. The sun peeking through the blinds reminded her of the time. She needed to go. Time to box the wildly sexy Paul Torres into the smallest mental compartment she could find and shut the door. Easing forward, she slid out from under his arm. He tossed restlessly and rolled over. Freezing, she stole a glance over her shoulder and waited until he settled, before slipping out from beneath the covers and off the bed.

Finding her bra and panties took a bit of work. The first sat on the dresser, but the other turned out to be under the bed. She felt a bit ridiculous, her hose was still on, but she’d apparently ripped one sometime between stripping for him and his delicious assault on her senses. Shivering with desire, she sighed.

Crawling back into bed and waking him up sounded so good.

Bad idea. Get your clothes and go. No muss. No fuss. No awkward morning-after conversations
. The sensible thing to do, particularly when their one night was just that. A one-night stand—an erotic, sensual, fantastic one-night stand she would remember with a smile. Wedding fever—it happened to everyone.

Okay, it’s never happened to me, but I’ve certainly seen these hook-ups enough to put it into perspective
. Dragging her gaze away from the man candy in the bed, she found her dress and scanned the room. Her purse and shoes were by the front door. She climbed into her dress and zipped it in the living room. Finger combing her hair would suffice, especially while fighting the craving to dive back into the bed and explore. Again.

It was just after eight in the morning. Her chances of running into other people rose with every passing minute. Unclipping her garters, and stripping off her hose, she stuffed them into her purse, grabbed her shoes and hesitated at the door.

Should she leave him a note? In college, one-night stands ended with one or both darting out for class. There really wasn’t time for social protocol. Did that change in adulthood?

How sad is it that I have no idea?
Guilt nibbled at her. It didn’t seem right to leave without a word, but if she did say or write something, wouldn’t that imply she wanted him to stay in touch? Or some kind of expectancy? She tossed the idea back and forth.

“Screw it,” she muttered and glanced around his living room. It was pretty barren of personal objects, but then he mentioned being on leave and borrowing the apartment for the duration of his stay. How personal could he make it? And unless she wanted to open drawers and be nosy, she didn’t see anything resembling a pen and a pad of paper.

Text message
. That would be the simplest solution. She fished her phone out of her purse and scowled. She didn’t have his number. His uniform lay neatly on the back of a chair where he’d set it after stripping. Poking through his pockets was not an option.
Okay, no easy way to leave a note, so…gotta go
.

She let herself out of the apartment and glanced around to get her bearings. He’d carried her all the way in the dark. Heading right, she followed the path toward the greenbelt. They’d come right through one from the reception hall. Sure enough, she found the parking lot and grimaced at the rough pavement under her bare feet.

Her car, parked by its lonesome, stuck out like a sore thumb. She’d left it there prior to riding to the ceremony with the other bridesmaids because she needed a way to get home. Fortunately, no one witnessed her quick escape and she was on the road minutes later.

First stop, Starbucks. Second stop, her apartment and a much-needed shower and change of clothes. Her phone rang while she waited in the drive-thru and she glanced down at the screen.

The hospital.

Lillianna groaned. Ignoring the temptation not to answer, she answered the cell. “Hansen.”

“Lillianna, it’s Jodi.” The clinical nurse specialist in charge of ER scheduling. “I know I promised I wouldn’t call and you had the wedding….”

“It’s okay.” Not really, but she wouldn’t snap at Jodi. Lillianna had all of fifteen hours off shift, it wasn’t the other nurse’s fault that she got less sleep than planned or spent the night having wild monkey sex with the talented and way-too-attractive Marine. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got three more nurses down with the flu.” Jodi sighed, exhaustion dragging on each word. She’d been at the hospital when Lillianna left, which meant she probably hadn’t gotten any sleep either.

“I can be there in an hour. I’m at a Starbucks right now, but it’s still a drive to get there.”

“God loves you and thank you. I wouldn’t ask, but….”

“I know you wouldn’t. I’ll see you in an hour.” She rang off and opened the window to give her order to the speaker. She would need double or triple shots before the day was over. Pulling forward, she waited her turn to pay for her drink and fished around in the back seat. Encountering the plastic-wrapped, freshly laundered scrubs, she let out a sigh of relief.

Driving straight to the hospital and showering there would save her time. She had a flattening iron in her locker, but worst case, she’d pin her hair back. It was a good thing she hadn’t woken Paul—another twinge of guilt struck her. Of course, if she had, she wouldn’t have heard her phone.

Let it go, girl. Gotta go to work
.

***

Paul scowled at his phone. Of all the stupid, boneheaded, ignorant-ass choices he made in his life—he never asked for her phone number. It never occurred to him while they danced, chatted, or played. Even when he got her back to the apartment….

And why would I? We were getting naked, not swapping contact data
. Bad enough that he woke to find her gone…that
irked
him and he planned to have a very long conversation about that…except he couldn’t, because he didn’t have her damn phone number. His options were limited, he didn’t know the other bridesmaids, and the bride was long gone on a well-deserved honeymoon with the Captain.

Yeah, if I call him, the chances of his answering are slim to none. The chances of him answering to find out I need the number of the bridesmaid I banged—yeah, not going there
. Still pissed at himself, Paul grabbed a shower, changed into comfortable clothes and put his uniform back in order. He had to be on a plane the next day if he wanted to report for duty on time.

Packed, save for the uniform he’d wear on the flight, he grabbed the keys to his rental and headed out. He’d been meaning to stop by Damon’s restaurant since he got into town, the restaurant wasn’t that far, and even at ten in the morning, now was as good a time as any.

He parked on the nearly empty side street and stared at the shuttered windows of Lagniappes. Damon had always enjoyed cooking, and opening a New Orleans-style restaurant near Mike’s Place married two of his greatest loves—although from what Paul saw at the wedding, Damon had added a third to that list by way of an attorney he’d met.

The window sign declared the location didn’t open until eleven. Leaning his head back against the seat, he closed his eyes. It didn’t take much for his mind to turn back to Lily. Her name conjured the memory of her scent, the soft sounds and hard gasps as he explored her body. Sweet, sassy, bold, and shy—the fusion of wild contradictions made her all the more desirable.

Damon opened the front door of the restaurant and waved him inside. Relieved to not have to chase his own failure around in his head, Paul climbed out of the car, locked it and followed his friend.

“Hungry?”

“Starved.” The food at the reception had been great, but that had been hours ago. “Hey, you know the bridesmaid I was paired with? Lillianna?”

“The nurse?” Damon pointed him toward a table in the kitchen and started putting together a plate of food. He didn’t ask Paul what he wanted and Paul didn’t complain.

As in everything, beggers couldn’t be choosers.

“Yeah.”

“Not really, saw her a couple of times at the earlier get-togethers and the engagement party. But she kept mostly to herself or talked to Rebecca.” He set a bowl of gumbo and a plate of ribs on the table. Crossing the kitchen, he returned with a serving of red beans and rice, and a basket of bread. “Why? And thirsty? We’ve got water and water. Liquor license doesn’t allow for alcohol ’til we’re open.”

Paul chuckled. “Water’s fine. And no reason, really. Just hoped.”

The chef checked on his people and came back over to sit opposite him. “No reason to ask me about a woman in a bridal party that must have included a half dozen people we don’t know and a reception with a hell of a lot more.”

“The gumbo’s good.” Paul ignored his curiosity and stirred a breadstick into the rich, meaty fish stew.

“I know it’s good. We don’t serve bad.” But he beamed at the compliment nonetheless.

“Don’t suppose your girl might know her?” It was a lame attempt at fishing and he was a lot better at gathering data, but he knew exactly four things about her. Her first and last names, she went to college with Rebecca, worked in an ER, and she’d grown up military—Army. Not a lot to go on.

“I have no idea.” Damon raised his brows. “Would you like me to call her and ask?”

He wanted to say no, keep it cool, but twenty-four hours ticked away at him. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” Damon laughed and pulled out his phone.

“Does it matter?”

“No. But you screwed her and didn’t get her number. Good job.” But he had the phone to his ear, amusement bright in his expression. Paul wouldn’t hear the end of it, but if Damon scored him the number that would be worth it. “Hey, babe. Hey, yeah, I know you’re going to court this afternoon, but can you do me a favor real quick?” He waited, listening.

Paul demolished the gumbo and the bread and moved on to the ribs. Hungrier than he thought, he barely tasted the food. It was a shame to waste good cooking on him. He waited as patiently as he could while Damon nodded.

“Got it. I’ll make sure a table is set aside for the whole family. Now my turn.” Damon laughed again. “Yes, but if we were keeping score, you’d be a lot further in debt.”

The easygoing expression and warmth in the chef’s voice filled Paul with envy. So many of the guys had found a good woman, paired off, and settled into civilian life. He never thought he would be much interested in that. The last couple of years though—they’d been hard ones. He liked the idea of having someone just for him, someone he shared that easy warmth with.