One Night of Pleasure: Military Romance Featuring a Sexy Navy Hero (Take a Chance Book 5) (5 page)

She kept her hands on his shoulders and peered up at him.  “I’m not the kind of girl guys think of carrying off into the sunset.”

He let out a sharp breath.  “This guy has been thinking of nothing else since the first moment he saw you.”

Color swept across her cheeks, bringing out that smattering of freckles.  “You obviously are mistaking me for someone else.”

He wanted to continue the discussion, but with her tucked close, where he could show her just how not mistaken he was.

He sat down on the sofa and stretched out his legs, took hold of her hand, and urged her to lie in the gap between his legs, her side tucked against his front.  As she settled against him, he parted his robe and hers, wanting them skin-to-skin.  Intending to finish that exploration that had started in the shower, but also wanting to learn more about the woman who fascinated him so.

He laid his hand on her waist and nestled her close.  With slow, smooth strokes, he gentled her, sensing just how uncertain she was about everything that was happening between them.  About herself.

After long moments passed, he said, “Why do you think you’re not the kind of woman a man would whisk away?”

She chuckled and shook her head.  “Because I’m 5’10 and most men could barely lift me much less whisk me away.”

“I did and I’m glad. Now I’ve got a beautiful woman in my arms,” he said and she ducked her head and stuttered a protest, obviously unnerved.

He tucked his forefinger under her chin and applied gentle pressure to urge her head upward.  “You don’t believe me?”

She waved her hand across her body. “What you saw tonight . . . the fancy gown and stuff.  That’s not the real me.”

He stroked his thumb across the straight line of her jaw and then skimmed his fingers down to her collarbone.  With the sweep of his hand across her warm skin, he eased the robe off to expose her to his gaze.

“What I see is a strong woman.  One whose brave enough to buck what people think she should be.”

Bridget trembled and looked away.  “I’m not brave at all.”  Since coming home, every day was filled with one fear or another, from finishing college to wondering if she’d ever really fit back into a regular life.

He once again cupped her chin and urged her to meet his gaze.  She expected to see pity, but instead his gaze was filled with understanding and if she dared to believe, love.

“I saw the medals on your uniform.  Bronze Star.  Purple Heart.”

“It was just a broken arm – ”

“More importantly, I see the strength inside.  You’re a hell of a woman, Bridget Sullivan, and I want to know more about you.”

God, how can I resist this man?  Why would I want to?

She laid her hand on his chest and stroked it across the powerful muscles there. He still had a warrior’s body, but beneath all that physical power there was an emotionally stronger and more intriguing man.  “I want to know more about you as well, Mark.”

“I’m all yours,” he said and as she peered at him, it was impossible to deny she wanted for this one night to possibly be about more.

She shifted upward until her lips were barely an inch from his.  The warmth of his breath spilled across her face.  Against her skin, the heat of his body brought a tingle of awareness from her breasts all the way down to her toes.  Especially when his cock shifted and hardened along the softness of her belly.

Cradling his jaw, she kissed him, a slow and leisurely kiss that explored all the nuances of his mouth.  His hard full lips. The softness of his inner lip and fresh taste of his mouth.  His agile tongue that had brought her such pleasure and tangled with hers now, teasing her.

She rubbed her hand along the planes of his face as she continued kissing him.  The water-softened stubble of his evening beard and the smoother taut skin above.

She skimmed her hand across the short strands at the side of his head and then up to the longish hair at the top.

But she wanted to touch more.  Feel more.  Taste more.

She broke away and kissed her way down the powerful column of his neck to his chest and the hard points of his nipples.  She licked one while she tugged on the other with her fingers and he grunted in satisfaction.  Against her middle, his erection swelled ever larger, making her insides clench and dampen.

With a quick nip of her mouth against the smooth muscle of his chest, she moved downward, licking the ridges of his abs.  Ringing around the indent of his navel before encircling his cock with her hands.

She shot a quick look upward and saw him watching her, his icy blue gaze filled with heat.

He moved his hands to her breasts and cradled them, finding the sensitive tips to play with them as he said, “I need to touch you.”

Each little tweak of his fingers had her clit humming, but before she could fulfill that need, she wanted to satisfy him.

She licked the sensitive head of his penis and he sucked in a pleased breath with that first touch. She intensified the caress, grazing her teeth along the head before wrapping her lips around him and swirling her tongue against the sensitive underside.

He tightened his hands on her breasts and pushed up with his hips, inviting an even deeper stroke of her mouth and tongue across his dick.

She moved with him, taking him until his thick length bumped the back of her throat.

Groaning, he moved his hands to her shoulders and guided her in the rhythm of making love to him.  Pumping his hips in time to the pull of her mouth until the first hint of saltiness spilled against her tongue.

She pulled back and licked across the tip.

His arched his back, but shook as he said, “I want to be in you.”

Damn, but she wanted that also.  “Condom. Hurry.”

He groped in the pocket of the robe and yanked out a packet.  As he fumbled with opening it, so she took it from his unsteady hands and ripped open the foil.  She unrolled it over his erection and after she did so, he repositioned himself on the couch so she could straddle his legs.

She gripped his shoulders and raised her hips, poising just above his cock.  He laid one hand on her hip and used the other to position himself at her center.

With her gaze focused on his face, she ground down until he was buried to the hilt.

Mark sucked in a breath to fight back the spear of pleasure her possession brought.

She was so tight and hot and powerful.  Her body fisted all around his cock, caressing him even as she wiggled her hips to push him even further.

A rough, but pleased, cry escaped her and he breathed it in much like he breathed in the muskiness of their sex tinged with the clean fresh scents of their recent shower.

He smoothed his hands up and down her sides, but had to touch her.  As he cupped her breasts, he tweaked the hard nubs of her nipples, drawing another quick little mewl from her.  His dick jerked at the sound.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever get tired of her sweet little love sounds.

Bending his head, he sucked hard on her nipples, shifting from one to the other and she wrapped her arms around his head and finally moved on him, drawing upward slowly before taking him deep inside again.

“That feels amazing, babe,” he urged in between quick little nips and licks of her sensitive breasts.

She kissed his brow and whispered, “I love the way you fit inside me.  So full.  So hard.”

Ah, fuck.  I love her sex talk even more than her sex sounds.

“Tell me more, Bridget.  Tell me what this feels like,” he said and sucked on her tit just a little harder.

She moaned and bucked her hips, a little more roughly than before.  “Wet.  Sharp.  Achy.”

He bit down just a little harder and all around him, her pussy clenched ever tighter and she pistoned up and down on him roughly, caught up in the pleasure/pain of their little game.

He teethed the tips again, mindful not to hurt and a long keening sound slipped from her.

She stopped abruptly and as he looked up, her face was bright with embarrassed color.

He swiped his fingers along that color and said, “No, don’t be ashamed.  I love hearing your pleasure.  I love knowing how much you like this, because I like it a lot, too.”

She started to say something, but then held back and he didn’t push.  At least not that way.

He lifted his hips and brought his hands down to her waist to guide her back into the rhythm of their loving.  To ease her past her discomfiture to the pleasure they had been sharing.

As she shifted on him and the first relaxed cry of satisfaction left her lips, he once again made love to her breasts and urged her on with his hands and soft words of encouragement.

Over and over she rose up and drove down on him, the movements growing wilder as they pushed toward their release.  The slap-slap-slap of their bodies coming together and their intermittent cries and rough exhalations loud in the night.

As her body arched and the first wave of her release tightened her body around him, he pushed up into her, wanting to take her over the edge.

With another rough pump of his hips, she shattered above him, crying out his name and holding him tightly.  His dick was throbbing, balls vibrating with his coming release, as her body clenched all around him.

But as good as it felt, he wanted more for her and for him.

He eased her down to the couch so he could drive into her again and again, drawing her up into another intense release.  The friction of her pussy all around him adding almost incredible pleasure to his every thrust until he fell over the edge with her, emptying himself inside her.  Grinding deep into her so that he could feel every bit of her all around him and beneath him.

As some bit of calm returned, he leaned a hand on the couch and gently lowered himself against her.  He kissed her and stroked her face, tenderness in every brush of his lips and the caress of his hands because he wanted her to know how special this had been.  How special she was to him, because he couldn’t find the words at that moment.

They lay entwined, savoring the aftershocks of pleasure until he had no choice but to pull out.  But as he did so and sat up, reality slapped him in the face.

“Shit,” he muttered and reached for a tissue.

She rose lazily, still seemingly spent from their passion and said, “What’s wrong?”

“The rubber broke,” he replied.

Chapter 7

His words drove away the last remnants of the sexual lethargy she had been savoring.

Jerking closed the robe, she stared at the shredded remains of their protection.  “Shit.  Shit.  Shit,” she said, echoing his earlier comment.

He used the tissue to clean away the evidence and tried to reassure her.  “It’s okay, Bridget.  I’m clean.  There’s nothing to worry about.”

There was shitloads to worry about
, she thought.  Raising her hands, she stopped him as he offered up yet more comforting words.  “It’s not okay, Mark.  I don’t normally do this kind of thing, so I’m not on the pill or anything.”

He nodded, looked away, and drew in a long breath.  After a protracted pause, he exhaled sharply and faced her.  “Trust me when I say it’s not a problem.”

His words did little to calm her as her brain began a countdown of her last period and tale after tale of unplanned babies roared through her head when she realized that she was at a bad time in her cycle.  A very fertile time.

“How can you say it’s not a problem?” she pressed and hated the growing note of panic in her voice.  She was a modern woman after all and had handled far worse than a possible unplanned pregnancy.

He slapped his hands on his thighs and bolted to his feet.  “I need a drink first.  How about you?”

She wasn’t much of a drinker, but right now she needed something to drive away the nervous jitters.  “Whatever you’re having.”

He stalked off to one side of the built-ins around the fireplace where there was a wet bar and several bottles.  The clink of ice and glasses sounded in the night and she took a moment to pull the robe up to her neck and tighten the belt around her.

When he returned, he handed her a glass with an inch or so of amber liquid.  She took the glass with both hands and sipped the liquor.  It had a sharp taste, but went down smooth and warm.

Mark sat at the opposite side of the couch and examined her warily.  There was a tired and haunted look in his eyes, much like she had seen earlier that night.  He took a big gulp of the liquor and winced at its bite, then shakily set the glass down on the coffee table beside the couch.

He had wrapped the robe around himself as well and repeated the earlier nervous gesture, rubbing his hands along his thighs.

She pressed him.  “Why isn’t it a problem?  Would you do the right thing by me if something happened?”

“I would, but you don’t have to worry about that because . . .” He stopped short and looked away again.  A second later he blurted out, “I’m sterile.”

“What?  Sterile as in – ”

“I’m shooting blanks or so the doctors tell me,” he said roughly, snared his glass and took another big gulp.

She pondered the statement that was so at odds with everything she’d seen of his life so far.  “But the house.  It’s a house for a family,” she said and motioned around the room with her hand.

He nodded.  “It is.  When I first bought it and started the renovations, I imagined having a few kids and raising them here.  I was even was engaged once because I’m an old fashioned guy and marriage comes before kids in my book.”

“Me, too.  What happened to the engagement?” She shifted closer to him on the couch and laid her hands over his, stilling the nervous gesture.

“We were going for routine medicals and when the doctor asked for my history, I mentioned I’d had a serious bacterial fever while I was on a deployment.  He got worried and ran some tests.  Turns out the fever left me sterile.”

“And your fiancée?” she asked, although she could guess at the outcome.

“She left me.”

Anger awakened in her at the unknown woman and her actions.  “That was both selfish and foolish.”

“I can understand – ”

“Bullshit, Mark. You don’t kick someone when their down.  Besides, there’s always adoption.  If you love someone enough, you find a way,” she said and cradled his jaw, wanting to offer both comfort and apology for what had happened.