Reinstated Bond (4 page)

He wanted to savor the sensation of her soft skin against his
once again if only for a moment. But as right,
good
, as it felt--he worried it was
something that wasn't meant to last. If it had been, he would have followed her
when she ran off that ill-fated prom evening.

He buried his nose in the lush halo of her hair and inhaled the
heady, fruity scent that hadn't changed in all those years. He relaxed into the
comfort of it--the sameness that anchored past to present. He wrapped his
fingers around the hand she'd draped over his trunk and gave them a squeeze.
"Is that all that's stayed the same?" he whispered to himself.

What had happened to his smiling, trusting Marilyn? The one who
used to run and jump for him to catch her when they met in their secret,
special spots? Again, he wondered if he'd been the one to spur that change in
her. And then he scoffed, thinking it was self-centered of him to keep assuming
it had to be about him. He didn't know what she had endured in the ten years
since they were together, any more than she did him.

He felt almost like it was that first day in the field house
before baseball practice when she, lost, had accidentally bumped into him. He'd
directed her to the track try-outs she'd been looking for, gave her a corny
pick-up line only she could hear, and watched long enough to see the freshman
he'd never paid any attention to smoke at least three senior girls in the
hundred-yard dash. Her fleeing into the cornfield suddenly seemed like a very
appropriate maneuver. With his mass he'd never catch up.

He chuckled and worked his right arm under her waist.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, but didn't pull away.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Her voice was a husky whisper
like the one she sometimes fell into during their late-night phone marathons.

He'd thought about that voice often when he was deployed
overseas. He'd yearned to hear it, and his heart would break all over again
when he remembered she wasn't his girl anymore. Never had been, really.

"I was just thinking about what a stupid kid I was."

She sighed and closed her eyes once more. "That's sort of
the job description for being a kid."

"You still mad at me?"

"No. Not mad. When I think back, I remember the hurt, but
I guess I can't blame you for siding with your family. Wasn't worth you being
put out."

"I think it would have been worth it."

She gave her head a delicate shake.

"Why not?"

"I think…I think kids are capable of being in love. I do,
and I loved
you
."
She opened her eyes and looked at him as if to accentuate that point.
"But, I also think love is different when kids grow up. Some relationships
don't survive the change. Kids need time apart to grow into themselves and
sometimes the parties involved don't like each other anymore." She ran
gentle fingertips down his shirted chest and stopped just over his navel.

"Yeah. It's kind of like starting from scratch."

"Mm-hmm." She brought her hand back up and laced it
through his loose hair. "Why'd you grow it out? Didn't peg you for the
type."

He laughed. "I wasn't. Just didn't feel like bothering
after my contract ended and I got used to it."

"Contract?"

"Yeah. Did my eight years in the Marines, wandered around
for a while, and took the bond enforcement gig as a favor to a friend."

"I don't want to go to jail."

"No one wants to go to jail, baby."

"I didn't do it."

"I don't believe you did, but running makes your case look
worse. Trust me."

She propped herself up onto her elbows. Her bright eyes had a
wary glint. "You really think I'm innocent?"

"Of course." He used the pad of his right thumb to
wipe away a tear that had spilled down her cheek. "You think I could fall
in love with a girl who had the potential to be an arsonist?"

She scoffed. "I don't know what kind of people you've
fallen in love with since high school."

"Not a damn soul, that's what kind."

She nudged his ribs with her right elbow. "Shut up."

"Dead serious, Mar. You left a big-ass impression on my
heart. I feel like a punk for even admitting it, but there you go."

"You're full of shit."

He shook his head. "Nope. Started asking around about you
when I got back Stateside, and you were always with someone. I figured you
wouldn't want to dredge up the past, anyway."

"Why don't you let me decide that?" She leaned in
closer so the tips of their noses touched. She grazed her lips against his and
pulled back a few inches. "You remember how we used to kiss until our lips
chapped?"

He smiled at the memory. "Yeah."

"Let's do that. Call it a last request before I get tossed
into the slammer." Her eyes sparkled in the faint light and there was a
hint of mischief evident in her lopsided grin.

Nothing wrong with a little mischief, the way he saw it. He
laced his fingers through the back of her hair and drew her head closer to his.

"I've got a fresh tube of lip balm in my truck."

CHAPTER FIVE

Carter's body was amazing. Marilyn had a perfect understanding
of such as she undressed him and slowly skimmed her lips down his body, past
the hard planes of his chest, down to the rippled washboard that was his belly,
and down a muscular thigh toward his bare foot. He'd had been the only man
she'd ever been with who'd taken such exquisite care of himself. He was strong
without being bulky, and looked just as good in clothes as out.

She made her way up the opposite leg and when she'd finished
with that thigh, she laid on top of his chest to access his lips again.

He slid hands up to her spine and unclasped her bra in one deft
flick. He cupped her breasts and grazed the pads of his thumbs over her
nipples.

She put her head back and moaned as his light touch sent tiny,
pleasurable shocks down her spine.

"You used to giggle when I did that," he said,
pushing himself up on his elbows to take one pert nipple into his mouth.

"I'm all grown up now."

He'd obviously learned a trick or two himself. His tongue was
slow, yet relentless in circling around her nipples--keeping them stiff and
peaked in between tantalizing scrapes of his teeth. He sat all the way up so
her breasts pressed against his naked chest, her crotch against his erection.
He slid her panties down over her hips and pushed her away from him by the
waist, back just enough to slide the fabric down to her knees.

He trailed is fingers down from her navel, skipping the
delicate mound of flesh at the top of her sex and diving right in to the slick
folds, probing at her entrance gently, borrowing its wetness. He teased her,
rubbing his fingers up and down the slit, undoing her bit by bit. When his
thumb found her clit, she hissed and grabbed his shoulders.

"Doesn't take much for you, does it Mar?" he crooned
as he plunged a finger inside. Her nails cut into his back.

"Oh, I could go all night," she lied. Maybe it had been
true for her with her ex. She wasn't so sure how many rounds she could go with
a man hung like a red stallion. Perhaps half a round. If she lasted beyond the
breech, she promised to treat herself to a cookie as a reward. She chuckled at
the thought. Were there cookies in jail? Would she have to save up her bread
and juice and fashion her own desserts when the guards weren't looking?

"Wanna let me in on the joke, Mar?" He picked her up
and laid her on her back, hovering next to her on his knees.

"I'm sorry. It's not you. I'm a little bit
hysterical."

"Well, shit, I know the cure for that. It's ages-old.
Well-documented."

"What is it?"

She felt the mattress shift and her body roll a bit toward the
middle of the bed as he scooted off the edge. She heard the sound of a belt
buckle clicking, then the heavy thud of the pants hitting the floor again. A
rip, then a groan as he rolled on a condom.

"I think I might have your solution in mind," she
said, rubbing her hands up his thighs as he straddled her.

"Mm-hmm." He bent over and crushed her lips, tamed
her tongue with his own.

She was so busy fighting him for some scant bit of control, she
hardly noticed when his thick head probed at her entrance. When his hand traced
down her ribs, over her hipbone, and across her thigh to guide his cock, she
cleared the fog from her brain and wrapped her right leg around his thigh,
angling her pelvis up to meet him.

He slipped into her slowly, carefully, giving her body time to
adjust to his girth, all the while probing her mouth with his tongue, rendering
her breathless.

She was definitely feeling less hysterical. In fact, she was
feeling downright crazed. He was moving so
slow
it was damn near torturous. She pulled
back from his mouth and sucked in a breath.

"Carter?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not going to break me."

"You really want your memory of us finally coming together
to be of me screwing you into the headboard or do you want me to actually make
love to you?" He pulled himself out slowly, edged back in at an even more
glacial pace.

She shuddered. "Can't you do both? They're not mutually
exclusive."

"I thought you had more pride than that, baby. Figured
you'd want to walk into the police station tomorrow on your own two feet and
not be carried in over my shoulder." He thrust into her a bit more,
hitting her very limit and making her toes curl. She whimpered.

"If we're not going to do this again, I'd like the
headboard pound, please."

"Who said we're not doing it again?" He pulled out to
the head, even more slowly than before.

"I'm probably going to get convicted, Carter. I could
spend a year in jail. Maybe more if the judge doesn't like my attitude."

"You're not going to jail. I keep telling you. Let the
system do its job." Another hard thrust that made her gasp. "'Sides,
even if you end up serving some time, we can just pick up where we left off
when you get out."

She didn't know how to feel about that. She didn't spend much
time thinking about it, because there he was again, pulling out of her.

"Carter!" she snapped.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to jail, so do me a favor and screw me hard
until I tell you to stop."

He chuckled and the action made his cock move faster in her
than it had during their entire comingling.

She grabbed his ass and pulled him into her.

"All right, baby," he said, wrapping her other leg
around his back and still chuckling. "Have it your way."

*

Carter thought Marilyn was the most responsive woman he'd ever
made love to, which was really saying something. Every little moan she made,
every pant, every time she clawed at his back or tipped her chin back, he felt
a little hotter…a little harder. God, she wanted it bad, and he was willing to
give it. But even through all that pleasure, his mind was racing. Some small
part of his brain kept making little comparisons. This Marilyn, this grown-up
one growling his name was a far different creature than the sweet one in the
pink party dress and strappy sandals he'd let run away years ago. Although
teenaged Carter had liked teenaged Marilyn a whole lot, grown-up Carter thought
this wicked little woman beneath him was something special, too. Different, but
still Marilyn.
His
Marilyn. He hoped.

From the looks of her, he didn't think she was going to last
much longer, but she was trying hard to hang in there even as her breathing
became ragged, and her body shuddered with each thrust he piled into her. It
was as if the sensation was novel to her and she was desperately clinging to
the last vestiges of pleasure for fear she'd never experience it again. If he
had his way, she'd experience it again soon and then often thereafter.

He wasn't going to last much longer himself, especially not
with the way she was squeezing his cock inside her, so he slipped an arm under
her waist and angled her up just a bit more, allowing himself more depth.

Her thighs clamped his waist as her body began to shake beneath
his. He increased his pace, his rhythm falling apart more and more as she
clenched his cock tighter. Finally, she came, and as she sank her teeth into
his shoulder to muffle her scream, he had his release.

He fell onto the bed beside her, adding his panting to hers to
form a hoarse, breathy chorus. Neither moved for a long while, and neither
talked. Usually, the women talked. He reached an arm across the bed and draped
it over her belly. He pulled her closer. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"You okay? I break anything?"

She laughed. "I don't know. Ask me when the adrenaline's
worn off. If the light were on right now, you'd see the big ol' grin on my
face."

"Mine's pretty big right now, too." He got up and
walked to the bathroom to discard his condom. He turned on the light, cleaned
up, and poked his head out the bathroom to ask her if she needed anything.

She was lying on her belly, arms spread to her sides, lips
slightly parted, asleep.

He shook his head. "Nice. Thought that was my role."

CHAPTER SIX

Marilyn loved the way Carter's body felt spooning the back of
hers. They were like two puzzle pieces cut from the same block. She hated to
move. She hated it, but still, she carefully picked up the heavy arm draped
over her waist and slipped from beneath it. She laid him arm carefully on the
bed and pulled the sheet up over him. He didn't stir. She picked through the
commingled pile of clothes on the floor to find her own and slipped into them slowly,
quietly, being very careful not to make any movements that were too fast that
could potentially rouse her lover's slumber.

She patted his jeans pockets, found her keys, and tiptoed out
of the hotel room. Downstairs, she exited through the back door and made a
beeline for her car, blowing out a deep breath of relief in the early morning
light.