What Part of Marine Don't You Understand? (The Challenge Series) (8 page)

“I served in Iraq.” The sentence sent a shiver of apprehension through her. “Just a grunt, doing my job and securing the areas we were ordered to secure.” Sweat beaded along his brow. Jethro shifted below them and laid his head across Matt’s foot, the weight offering some comfort because he blew out a long breath.

“I always wanted to be a Marine. I grew up in a small town, my mother works two jobs and she’s—she’s raised all five of us the best she can. But I am the oldest.”

Naomi’s heart squeezed. Brent was also the oldest—which meant he put tremendous pressure on himself to excel and be there for his siblings. He believed in demonstrating how it should be done.

“So enlisting was a no brainer.” Matt pushed the rice around on his plate. “I loved it—still do. There’s—there’s no real description for being a part of a unit that gets you, appreciates your strengths, challenges you to do better and guards your back every step of the way.”

Spearing a mushroom on a fork, she gave him her full attention and swallowed any probing questions. He needed to tell his story his way.

Clearing his throat, he continued, “Anyway, I was good at my job and I liked it. One night—one night we had insurgents break through the gates. They set off some blasts and we had to kill the driver in another of their vehicles, but it still detonated. The—um—the explosion damaged my hearing.” He tapped his right ear with two fingers. “I’m not deaf, but impaired on this side. It also affects my balance, but I’m working on that.”

Putting the plate on the table, he reached down to pet Jethro. She’d noticed he did that whenever his discomfort level rose. The dog basked under the affection, returning solace to the wounded Marine. She didn’t mistake the idea that the hearing loss was his only injury. Soul-bleeding wounds weren’t always obvious.

“So I took the medical discharge they offered, but it’s not just about the physical issues. I still have my arms and legs, I can still run and work and function—except—” He grimaced. “Except sometimes I can’t.” Swallowing hard, he clenched his jaw. “I’m here at Mike’s Place for treatment.” The words were barely a whisper and she had to strain to hear them.

“Doc diagnosed it as PTSD. I can’t remember what happened without reliving it. I can’t go places where there are a lot of noises—bangs or even heavy crowds, because they take me back there. I can’t hold a job because most of my training is in areas that all set off my triggers. In a nutshell, I’m a pretty poor prospect for anyone.” He sighed, shoulders slumping briefly as though exhausted from giving voice to the darker thoughts inside of him.

Judging that point to be the right time to speak, she set her plate next to his and turned sideways, her knee brushing his thigh. “Okay.”

Puzzlement filled his eyes. “What?”

“Okay.”

“I just told you why I’m not a good prospect for you.”

“I know. You think I need big dates in noisy crowds and someone who hasn’t seen how hard life can be.” Taking a risk, she caught his hand and put it to her throat, pressing two of his fingers to her pulse. “Feel that?”

He grazed his thumb over the pulse point. “Yeah.”

“I’m human, too. I’m sorry that bad things happened to you and continue to happen, but do you know what I see when I look at you? What I hear when you tell me that story?”
Make it good, Nay. He’s opening up and you have one shot to get this right
.

“No.”

“I hear a good brother who cares about his family, a good son who respects his mother, a tough Marine who honors his unit, and a strong man who is facing his own demons. You’re exactly the kind of guy I want to see.”

“But I can’t take you out and do all the things you deserve—real dates, real romance—”

“I don’t need all those trappings, Matt. I just need you.” She wasn’t sure which of them moved, but she went from sitting next to him to sitting in his lap, and his mouth closed over hers. She loved kissing him, even when he exerted so much care.

Wiggling until she straddled him, she cupped his face in her hands. Aggressive wasn’t usually her style, but he rewarded her efforts and slid his hands under her T-shirt. The glide of skin-on-skin sent tremors through her.

“Naomi…?” The breathless question sent another frisson of awareness jolting up her spine.

“Yes,” she answered between kisses, “I know what I’m doing.”

He caught her hair in one hand and tugged her head back. “I—want you.” The admission clearly cost him something. “And the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

Grabbing the bull by the horns, she settled more firmly, teasing herself with the length of the erection straining against his jeans. “Stay with me tonight—just you and me—let’s see where this goes. No strings, no demands, no expectations….”

“I have expectations.” He caressed her side, the stroke of his fingers sending delicious ripples through her, winding her up tighter than a watch.

“Okay.” She rested her forehead to his. “What expectations do you have?”

“I want to be better for you.”

“You don’t have to be better, you just have to be you.”

“I meant—”

Silencing him with a kiss, she fought to keep her libido in check. The urge to get naked and wild with him warred with her desire to make it better for him. “I know what you meant. I also know that you’re working on you, and if a relationship with me hurts that progress, then absolutely—say ‘thanks, ma’am, but no thanks.’ We can eat our Chinese food and watch some bad comedies together. But I’m a big girl, Matt. I grew up with four brothers who are made of boot leather and determination. I get it. I want
you
, not some perfect, idealized version of you—but the
you
sitting right here with me. If you can believe that, then I’d recommend nudity is no longer optional.”

He said nothing for so long she thought he would tell her no. Bracing for that disappointment, she wasn’t prepared for the shock when he slid his hand up to cup her breast, or the teasing stroke of his thumb through the fabric of her bra. “If nudity isn’t optional—then we better get naked.”

Matt allowed Naomi to lead him into the bedroom. Despite his bravado, when it came to stripping her clothes off, he didn’t trust his control. Jethro watched them go with solemn eyes, but made no move to follow. Apparently the Labrador trusted Naomi even more than Matt did.

Good to know.

Naomi aroused an unpredictable array of feelings in him. She thought him respectful and compassionate—but damn, she was drop dead gorgeous with a beautiful voice and the sexiest mouth he’d ever seen. Every single time he listened to her sing, he watched her mouth—imagining all the things he might do with it and then pushed the thoughts back down.

In a way, she belonged to his larger family—his Marine brotherhood—but damned if he felt remotely familial toward her. Coming back to her door the other night and kissing her left him humming, and he’d carried that good mood throughout his day. His session with James diminished it, bleeding the color from the joy. But seeing her again in the park, it returned full force and flooded him.

He hungered to touch her, kiss her, and make love to her until she couldn’t walk. But Naomi would never be a fuck or a casual lay—she was the real damn thing. Standing next to her bed, she must have sensed his hesitation. Sitting, she patted the space next to her.

The invitation sent his blood racing. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes dark and mysterious in the muddy puddle of light cast by the low wattage bulb in the nightstand lamp. Her lips were full and just a little swollen from their earlier kiss, color flushed her cheeks, and her hair spilled in loose curls around her shoulders. Ripe, perfect, and every bit the girl next door type he favored most of his life—only she wasn’t a
type
.

Those other girls were just pale imitations of her—understudies because she hadn’t arrived in his life yet.
God, I sound like Lauren…I am spending way too much time around the actress
.

Shuttling thoughts of everyone else away, he cupped Naomi’s cheek and rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “You really are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”

Hands down. No contest.

“Keep saying things like that to me and I can’t be responsible for my actions.” She caught his thumb between her lips and teased the tip with her tongue. The sensual gesture caught him off guard and captivated him.

Sliding back on the bed, she caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. One by one, she shed her clothes and he forgot how to think. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he didn’t dare say anything for fear of babbling like an idiot. She possessed an athletic and trim build, but her curves were distinctly feminine. He knew from experience how wonderfully soft and firm her body was. She finally knelt on the bed, wearing only her bra and panties.

Rooted to the spot, he stared, his brain fizzling. But he stood silent for too long and her expression wavered, uncertainty darkening her eyes.

“I’m sorry…,” she murmured, reaching for her discarded shirt, but he snatched it and threw it aside then joined her on the bed.

“Don’t be—I just couldn’t take my eyes off you long enough to respond.” But he planned to rectify that. He crushed his mouth against hers, and she opened to the invasion like a flower soaking up the spring rain. Her skin scorched him until heat danced across his nerves. He made quick work of the bra and panties. The rise and fall of her chest sucked all the oxygen out of his lungs, and he nearly strangled on a moan.

Rosy nipples, sweet like strawberries, stiffened under his gaze. He kissed his way down to them then indulged in one of his favorite fantasies—sucking one turgid tip between his lips. The moment he grazed the nipple with his teeth, she dug her fingers into his shoulders, the sweet, sharp sting of her nails rocking his insides. His cock stiffened painfully, reminding him he was still fully dressed.

Unsure who he tormented more as he played with her breasts, he was torn between wanting his clothes off and continuing to tease her sweet flesh. Wanting what came next won out. He slipped away, and she objected with a very audible groan. Laughter bubbled up through his intensity and he grinned at her. “I’m feeling very overdressed….”

Pulling off his shirt, he toed off his shoes before stripping out of his jeans. She rose up on her elbows and stared at him with hunger, her naked, wanton look a powerful thing. The raw desire in her face demanded action. His erection thumped against his stomach, and he fumbled in the pocket of his jeans for the condom in his wallet.

Always carry a condom. Always be prepared.

God bless his training.

She reached out and stroked him, her attention on his cock and he groaned. The action sent all blood flow south and shut down everything but the most basic thoughts in his brain. Wanting her was a powerful thing, wanting to make this good for her even more. He caught her wrist in a light grip and stopped her caress. Her gaze rose to meet his, a frown wrinkling her brow.

Oh, she didn’t like that
. For some reason, the objection in her all-too-willing expression amused the hell out of him. “You keep doing that and we’re going to be over before we even get started, and that’s not how I want this to end.”

“Oh.” Her eyes lit up and her smile grew. “Oh.”

He didn’t let her repeat a third time, tumbling her back on the bed and kissing her soundly before nipping and licking his way down her body. He allowed the indulgence of teasing her nipples before settling between her legs. Spearing his tongue between the seam of her sex, he didn’t hesitate to taste her.

Divine honey, sticky and sweet.

Every lick elicited another gasp or soft cry until she writhed and he gripped her hips, pinning her to the bed. Damn she was so responsive. He sucked on her clit until she let out a little scream. Satisfied with the pleasure he delivered, he eased away and looked up.

She beckoned him with glazed eyes. More than willing to fulfill the slightest request, he sheathed his cock and settled again between her legs. She didn’t act like a virgin or respond like one, but he hesitated, poised at the entrance to her sex. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” She rubbed her palms across his chest then up over his shoulders. Even the slightest contact of skin on skin sent electric shocks through his system. Primed, he expected to blow any second—and wanted to be inside her when that happened.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He dug his fingers into the bed covers next to her, fighting to maintain the last slender threads of his control. The urge to thrust damn near bowed his spine.

She hooked her legs around his hips, and arched her back. He slid in an inch and surrendered to the desire to thrust inside of her with one, long stroke. They groaned in unison and fierce laughter burst from his chest. It felt so fucking good to feel her clamping down around him.

“Don’t stop.” She whispered, the small bit of encouragement before biting down on his earlobe. The light pressure, the encouraging brush of her nails on his ass, and he pulled out slowly before driving his cock home again. Far from put off by his hard thrusts, she encouraged him. Their mouths collided in a hot, wet kiss that stoked the tension gathering in his balls.

The bed rocked with them, and she rose to meet his every thrust. She let out a soft cry and her legs locked around him. The orgasm stormed through her expression and she screamed. Her convulsions drove his and he came in a rush of pure, blinding pressure, crying out her name.

Chapter Eight

He wouldn’t stay the night. She wanted to argue, but something in his eyes when he talked about going to sleep arrested her words. Fear. A genuine concern, tinged with shame, when he murmured he had to leave.

“It’s okay.” She walked him to the door, holding his hand and leaning on his arm. She was soft and warm all over. Equal parts erotic and sweet, his lovemaking took her breath away. Burying the longing to sleep in his arms, she kissed him softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Lock this door.” He clipped Jethro’s leash on and kissed her again. “Thank you….”