BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance (13 page)

BOOK: BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance
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26
Isa

I
grasped Grady’s hand
, and the sweat from his palms seeped into mine. His face registered a blank stare and I could see his breath in the cold night air puffing short, labored breaths.

Within minutes, we were back at the cabin. Grady sat in a chair and I turned the stove on to make him tea.

He exhaled. “I’m sorry, I—” His words were sharp and staccato.

I cut him off. “No, babe, you have nothing to be sorry about. We don’t have to talk about it unless you want to.”

I wanted to talk. I wished I could climb into his mind and erase his memories of war.

Maybe he could return the favor. Erase the memories of seeing my mom dead. Erase the memories of what I knew.

We could both start fresh, no pasts, both of us could learn to be present and just be here now.

But that was impossible. All I could do was love him.

His hands finally stopped shaking.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure.”

Sure. Didn’t sound convincing but I’d take it. The teakettle whistled and I poured two cups of hot water. I dunked the tea bags into the mugs, watching the warm liquid turn to a dark amber shade, then placed the cup in front of Grady.

We sat in silence, sipping our tea. He had access to the best care, but clearly, however they were treating him, wasn’t working.

He finally spoke, his words disjointed. “Sunset. Late summer sunset, a night like this. Mountains, a chill in the air, planes overhead.”

Triggers. I couldn’t even pretend to imagine what it was like to be in a combat zone. Or to feel like you never left.

I’d studied every published detail of his attack available after I met Grady—hell I could recite his medal citation from memory.

Without hesitation and with complete disregard for his own safety, Corporal Williams reached out and pulled the grenade to his body, shielding his fellow Marines only feet away. When the grenade detonated, his body absorbed the brunt of the blast, severely wounding him, but saving the life of his fellow Marines. By his undaunted courage, bold fighting spirit, and unwavering devotion to duty in the face of almost certain death, Corporal Williams reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service.

I wanted to hear about what he went through in his own words. Maybe it would even help him, to talk about the night, desensitize it. I certainly wasn’t a trained psychologist. But Grady and I had something—whatever we labeled it—between us. Maybe he could share with me what he couldn’t tell others.

“Grady, that’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. But if you’d like to tell me, I’d really like to know what happened to you.”

He sighed and stared in the distance. “We were clearing houses, looking for terrorists. This one motherfucking insurgent threw a grenade in front of my Marines. I jumped on the grenade.”

He said it matter-of-factly, like it wasn’t a big deal, like he bought the guy behind him a drink at Starbucks. “Why?”

His voice lowered. “Because it was my job. Because I’m a Marine. Because he was my best friend, my brother in arms, I loved him. He would’ve done it for me. I was just the unlucky motherfucker to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And the worst thing about it . . . he died anyway. I did it all for nothing.”

I wanted more, so much more. To go deep into his psyche. Find out every detail about the night, what he saw, what he felt, physically and emotionally. But not like this, not yet.

I
turned into him and initiated a kiss. He kissed me back, but these kisses weren’t lustful. They were comforting, dare I say soothing, or possibly even loving.

I pulled back for a moment, and looked at him, really saw him. I imagined what he had looked like before the injury, who he had been before he’d sacrificed his looks, his health, his soul. Was it for his country? Was it for his friend?

Tears welled in my eyes.

His gaze was fixated on me too, and I allowed him to look at me. To truly see me. Did he see my longing for him? How much I wanted to be loved by him? How hard I prayed that this, whatever
this
was, could possibly work out?

He lifted me off the chair and carried me to the bed. It creaked when he placed me on the quilt, and we both laughed. It was nice to see him smile, a hint of joy brightening his face.

He climbed on top of me as his lips took mine again. His tongue slowly explored my mouth, as his hand guided down my body.

I wiggled out of my clothes as he pulled off his shirt. His arm reached around to unhook my bra, and his mouth lapped at my breasts, the stubble from his beard rubbing against my chest.

I whispered in his ear, “I’m falling in love with you.” Tonight, there was a sense of comfort between us, as if every kiss was healing our souls.

He pulled down my panties, and I heard the distinct sound of foil ripping. His tip grazed me and pressed between my legs. This teasing was unbearable; I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d never wanted anyone more in my life.

His lips locked again with mine as he pushed deep inside me. His pace alternated between hunger and caution, as if he was holding back the beast within. I wasn’t scared of his wild side; I wanted to see the animal he kept caged. I pulled him closer to me, urging him to fill me up and erase the space between us.

He glided in and out of me, each thrust taking me closer to nirvana. He paused for a second and looked deep in my eyes.

“I need you.”

Need? That was good, right? It had to mean something. I needed him too; I needed this moment, this feeling.

His fingers interlaced with mine and he pinned them over my head. His pace quickened, and I could feel myself desperately trying to hold on to the cliff, hold on and ride the waves of ecstasy. He released my hands, and I clutched the sheets as he grinded deep inside me, pressing flat against my belly, giving me the direct stimulation I craved. I dug my fingers into his ass, and he pounded into me. Our release came crashing down around us, and I savored every second as our bodies drowned together in a sea of satisfaction.

This man loved his fellow Marines, was willing to give his life for them. He was capable of loving someone more than he loved himself. I wondered what it would be like to be loved by such a man.

But my heart was restless. Soon our world would change, our time out here would be over. No matter how much we wanted to, we would never be able to return to the innocence of this moment.

27
Grady

S
he looked up at me
. “Can I spend the night with you? I really want to try to make this work.”

Of course I wanted her to stay with me, to fuck her sweet pussy every night, though I wasn’t sure if that emotional performance she just gave was nothing more than a combination of an apology for her ex partner insulting me and pity witnessing my flashback. At this point I didn’t care what her motivations were—I just wanted her near me.

“Sure. I’m glad you begged me to let your dad write my book. I honestly would’ve never done it. And I’m actually looking forward to saving up some money. The VA sucks and who knows if I’ll be able to hold down a job. And I’ll get to tell my side of the story in the book.”

She rolled on top of me, staring into my eye. “The book will be amazing. Get some!”

I kissed her forehead, appreciative of her Marine Corps “get some” reference, as if she was trying to relate to me.

In my post-coital haze, I decided to put myself out there even more. It had gone well so far. No more games. From here on out, I wanted her to know she’s mine.

“For the ball, I don’t want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

“Oh?”

I lifted up her hand and kissed it. “I want you to
be
my girlfriend.” Once the words left my mouth, I knew I had made the right decision asking her. Since I’d left the hospital, I’d stopped making plans for the future. I wanted to look forward to my life—with Isa in it.

A big smile spread across her face, and her eyes sparkled.

“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, a shot of adrenaline reinvigorating me.

She pursed her lips like she was thinking. “Grady, since this is a ball, do you know how to dance?”

“Nope. Never learned.”

“Well, can I teach you? Just two dances. Maybe a foxtrot and a rumba? I really had a great time dancing tonight.”

Hell no. “Nope, not going to happen. Most Marines just end up screwing around, you might see them dancing to ‘YMCA’ or the electric slide, but no one really dances.”

“I get that. But I mean the President will be there. You’re the guest of honor. And once the press finds out you’re going with me, they’re going to expect something. Especially since we’re dating.”

I tensed up my shoulders. Writing a book was one thing—I wasn’t going to learn how to dance. “No. It would be like a gateway drug. Next thing you know I’d be on
Dancing under the Stars
.”

“Ha!” She laughed. “It’s fine. Just thought it would be fun.”

She cuddled onto my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her. She fit perfectly. For the first time since I’d met her, I felt like there was a possibility that she could truly need me.

“Fine, two dances, that’s it. I’m not wearing those weird shoes with heels. And don’t get any crazy ideas about waxing my chest and stuffing me in a rhinestone onesie.”

She giggled. “You’re hilarious Grady. Okay—it’s a deal.”

28
Grady

T
he next morning
we left the campsite and headed back to the cabin. We had a few more days here before we would return to the real world.

In the daylight, I was filled with embarrassment that she’d seen me have a flashback again. She’d been understanding and comforting, but I was worried that the novelty would wear off and she wouldn’t be able to deal with my issues long term.

We arrived back home and we milled around the cabin in silence. I needed to know why she snapped at me earlier in the week when I asked about her mother’s death.

I went to the kitchen and poured her a mug of coffee. After a few minutes, she sat at the table with me.

“So what happened to your mom?”

She looked away from me, her face turning red. “She died. End of story.”

I didn’t have a clue how to read women. Men were direct. If a dude had a problem with someone, he’d kick his ass, share a beer later when it was resolved. I hated playing the guessing game with this girl. “Cut the bullshit. You say you want to get to know me, but you’re being secretive. I absolutely can’t stand liars. You lied to me about where I’d seen you before, and you snapped at me when I asked about your mom. Just please be honest with me.”

Her hand was shaking. “It doesn’t matter how she died—it only matters that she is dead.”

I would get this girl to open up to me. I put my arm around her, her petite body fitting perfectly on my chest. “Babe, you have to trust me.”

She just looked away from me. For the first time it occurred to me that she might be in as much pain as I was. I had nothing left to lose—I’d lost my best friend, my career, I’d almost lost my life—twice. Once from a grenade, and another time from my own hands. I would lay my heart open for her sake.

I raised her chin with my thumb. “Fine, I’ll go first. I need to thank you for taking that bullet out of my gun. A few days after we met, I found out I was getting kicked out of the Corps. It was really dark for me. I’m in so much fucking pain all the time, I miss my buddy who died in the attack. I felt worthless. So I tried to end it. You’re the reason I’m standing here today. Thank you.”

She gripped the side of her head, as if she was covering her ears. “Oh my God, Grady. I’m so sorry you were suffering, and I’m so grateful I took that bullet. Suicide is never the answer. You’re such an amazing man. Your life is so valuable.”

I didn’t want to hear her fake platitudes. She didn’t know anything about the true darkness that lurked within me. “I’m fine now. Don’t worry about me. Now it’s your turn.”

She pulled her knees to her chest, her voice choked with tears. “My mom. She wasn’t murdered. She killed herself. I was the one who found her, her brains splattered everywhere.”

Bile rose in my throat. So that was what she was hiding from me. And my dumbass had just told her I’d attempted suicide. She’d never want to continue this relationship with me. I was just like her mom. “Man, I’m sorry.”

“I couldn’t deal with life, the press asking questions about my mom, so I quit the show, hoping the truth wouldn’t get out. The tabloids printed crazy rumors that I had some drug problem and that I went to rehab. To this day, I don’t know where that rumor started. So that’s why I took your bullet. You . . .” Her eyes were teary. “You remind me of her.”

Fuck.

I looked in her green eyes, really looked at her, and allowed her to look at me. I didn’t turn my head when she stared at my face. If a woman this beautiful could stand the sight of me, if she stood by my side, maybe I could face the world again.

Maybe not.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in pain. The skin grafts are brutal. And my brain is fucked up. I have triggers, and I can’t control myself. If I see something that reminds me of that night, I lose it. You saw me.”

“It’s hard, I know. Just take your time.” She put her hand on my thigh and pursed her lips. “I wish I’d never run out the night we met. I was scared. And the truth is, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About that night.”

Her soft touch immediately invigorated me.

Me either, baby.”

I reached around her waist and pulled her closer to me. A lock of hair fell in her face and I brushed it back. She looked up at me through her long, black eyelashes, and I couldn’t resist a second longer. My lips covered hers, and her warm, sweet tongue danced in my mouth.

Last time I fucked her with the faint hope that it might lead to something more. Tonight, I would fuck her, praying that it would last forever. I could keep her safe, I could love her.

Her delicate hands rubbed the back of my neck as we kissed. We didn’t rush our lips. I had some time alone with this girl—I could take all the time I wanted.

Her fingernails scraped my scarred skin, and the sensation sent chills through my body. She lightly kissed my neck, then she nibbled on the nub where my ear used to be. I resisted the urge to shove her mouth away, not wanting her to be disgusted by me. But her lips found a way back to my tortured flesh, and the comfort of her kisses was more soothing than any creams that I had ever applied to my wounds.

My hands gripped her tiny waist. I loved her curvy hips, her round ass. She was perfection. I wanted to pleasure her, worship her, show her that I could be the man to protect her from anyone. If only she’d let me.

She lifted off my shirt, her eyes widening at the sight of my chest. I undressed her beautiful body, slowly, savoring the unveiling of her flesh. The previous times we had sex had been laced with lust. Tonight, I wanted to make love to her.

I had nothing left to say. Scooping her in my arms, I carried her into the bedroom. Her eyes widened, and she bit her bottom lip. I’d fantasized about this very moment for the past few months, and I was in no rush.

I placed her on my bed and we knelt facing each other. My hand pushed her hair back, and I planted a kiss on her neck. Her skin was so soft and tan. Her lips parted and my mouth took hers, indulging in every sensation of her hot tongue probing my mouth. These kisses were so much better than yesterday’s kisses, which were shortly after my PTSD attack, when I was so afraid of losing her.

I was afraid of nothing now.

I cradled her head and urged her closer to me, pressing her clothed body against mine. She kissed my face tenderly as she began to undress me. I removed her white tank top and kissed her cleavage. Her head dropped back and she gave out a sweet sigh. My hand unhooked her bra and then teased her nipples with my fingers, pinching and tugging until her face was flush with pleasure.

“Grady, you’re torturing me.”

I grinned. Taking her buds, I sucked on one while my hand squeezed the other. She moaned causing a jolt of pressure to my already hard cock.

Her hands dug into my shoulders and she began kissing my chest, licking my nipples, straddling my waist. I was so desperate to be inside her.

She undid my belt and removed my shorts as I pulled down her sweatpants. She was wearing a mesh lace thong. I teased her with my tongue, tasting her sweet wetness. When I couldn’t resist anymore, I pushed her panties down and devoured her pussy.

She writhed on the bed, gasping, moaning, every sound making me want her more. I could eat her pussy for days, forever.

I grabbed a condom from my nightstand, pulled off my boxers, turned her over, and climbed on top of her. Her round ass mesmerized me. I took off her thong and wrapped my arm around her.

“Ready for me?” I whispered into her ear.

“Yes, baby.”

I grabbed my cock in my hand and slid into her warm pussy.

The softness of her ass as I pressed deeper heightened my desire. She moved in sync with my thrusts. I rubbed her clit until she was moaning, almost gasping for air. I could feel her pussy clench tight around my cock and I was desperate to release. I pumped faster, harder, deeper, out of my mind in pleasure. She let out a long cry and I came with her.

We collapsed onto the bed, my mind completely blank. I was about to get up when she turned toward me and cupped my face.

We lay in silence and I listened to the pattering of rain falling on the roof.

“Grady, I need to tell you something.”

Great, here it goes. I care for you but this isn’t going to work. I was ready. “What?”

“I love you.”

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