Make Mine a Ranger (Special Ops: Homefront Book 4) (13 page)

Every nerve in her body was firing, every
cell springing to life under his touch. Her breaths came quickly—too
quickly, making her lightheaded. She felt restless with desire, needing to be
closer to him. Only one thing would get him close enough for her desire to be
quenched. With a sense of urgency, she pulled her nightshirt off and felt the
chill of the air against her skin. Her back arched, lifting her breasts closer
to him as he took her back in his mouth.

“More.” The demand slipped from her mouth
without thought. More of his gentle caresses. More pressure against her. More
of his skin gliding against her body. Her list of needs was left unspoken except
for that one word, yet he seemed to know exactly what she desired from him.

His chest brushed against her skin as he
moved, grabbing the sides of her panties and slipping them off. She felt
exposed now, and so vulnerable. She had never had much confidence in the look
of her naked body, preferring to not even look at herself in the mirror before
stepping into the shower. And in the years since Abby’s birth, her confidence
had only gotten worse. Sure she might have shed a few pounds these past few
weeks, but she still had plenty more acreage of skin than she wanted.

But as he grabbed her hips and his lips caressed
her belly, he only smiled. “God, I love your curves, Bess. Do you have any idea
how hot you look to me?”

“No,” she all but squeaked as he bent her
legs, separating them, leaving her feel even more exposed to his eyes.

“Every time you wear those damn yoga
pants, I’ve wanted to strip them off you and bury myself inside you.” He
laughed as he went down on her, and the vibration of his laughter tickled her
in the most sinful way. Then his tongue plunged inside her, devouring her,
making her cry out in sweet, sweet agony. His mouth journeyed up to the center
of her arousal, toying with her lightly as he moved his fingers in and out of
her, making her mad with desire. She rocked her body against him, writhing, his
fingers not nearly reaching as deep as she wanted him.

It was impossible for this to be enough
for her… she thought. But just as the thought ventured into her mind, the
pressure built inside her again, her body coiling from the need to explode,
till the spasms shook her, uncontrollable, pleasure bursting from her in sharp
cries.

“Tyler,” she repeated his name—she
had no idea how many times, till her body again sank boneless into his
mattress.

She settled her fingers onto his
shoulders as his face met hers. For so long she had wanted to touch him like
this, dig her hands into his corded back, stroke forward to that impossibly
rigid six-pack. And now she could. She savored the moment, soaking in the feel
of his flesh beneath her hands.

 “Now,” she said, her hand reaching for
him, tracing along the ridge of his arousal. “I need you now.” She slipped her
hand beneath his boxers and purred at the feel of the hot, thin skin sheathing
something so hard. Pulsating beneath her touch, he tore off his boxers and her
eyes suddenly widened.

“Oh, God, please tell me you have a
condom, Tyler. It probably goes without saying that I don’t have any.”

“I do,” he said, his brow arching
suddenly. “I think. I—unpacked them. Put them somewhere.” Panic touched
his features.

Lifting himself off her, she could see
his naked form fully for the first time, a body that could inspire a Greek
myth.

“Shit. I wasn’t expecting this tonight,”
he admitted.

“Oh, no.” Biting her lip uneasily, her
entire body wanted to revolt—or race out the door to the nearest
drugstore.

He searched through his nightstand
drawer, dumping its contents on the floor. “Not in here.” Frustration building
in his eyes, he shook his head. “Of course. I didn’t expect to bring a woman
back to the house with Abby living here. Where they hell did I put them?”

He raced over to his dresser, dumping
about ten pairs of tightly balled up socks on the floor. “Found them!” he cried
triumphantly, then tossing his body back on the bed. He tore open the wrapper
and slipped it on. “Okay, after all that excitement, what do I have to do to
get you back in the mood?” His hand moved in between her legs, and feeling the
moisture, he smiled. “Nothing, I see.”

Bess laughed. No, nothing at all. Just
watching his hard, broad form tearing through his drawers and darting across
the room was a show she could happily watch every day. He was adorable. Sexy. Even
in a state of panic, he was everything she’d ever dreamed about in a man.

And she had certainly spent plenty of
time dreaming about Tyler.

He lowered himself alongside her, his hand
gliding down her breasts, her belly, till he finally rested it on her hip.
“You’re sure about this Bess? I know it’s been a long time. I don’t want to
push you. I can just hold you all night.” A half grin sidled up his face. “I’ll
be taking a hell of a cold shower in the morning, but I’ll live.”

“I’m sure,” she said, a hint of anxiety
edging into her heart. “Please don’t have second thoughts.”

He moved on top of her, bracing his
weight with his arms at either side of her. “Not on your life.”

She parted her legs and felt the pressure
of him against her opening. She was nervous suddenly, feeling almost
virgin-like in her fears. It had been so long. And she had never had sex after
becoming a mother. Would it feel different? Would she feel different to him?

The fear must have shown in her eyes. “It’s
okay, Bess,” he assured her, lowering his hips as he began to enter her. “It’s
okay, baby.” His eyes shut for a few moments as he slid inside of her—not
too deep at first, as though he was just testing the waters. He opened his eyes
and watched her for a response. “Are you okay, beautiful?”

It was such a sensation. Her entire mind,
body, and soul felt overwhelmed. Unable to speak, she just nodded. He edged his
way deeper inside of her, then pulling out slightly, before pressing into her
folds again. “You feel so good, Bess,” he said, his voice strained and husky.

His words soothed her, knowing that it
felt as good to him as it did to her. Each time he moved his hips, he pressed a
little deeper, a little harder, and pausing after each movement to gauge her
reaction.

Moaning slightly as he pulsated inside of
her, her eyelids were half shut, and she watched him beneath a canopy of her
lashes.

Nothing had ever felt so exquisite. So
tender, yet so erotic, his movements inside her made her hotter, wetter, and
more ready to be completely filled by him. Lifting her hips, she met his next
thrust, and a hunger washed over his face.

“Bess…” His voice trailed just as his
control seemed to shatter. He plunged harder now, his own need setting the
rhythm, and she cried out when he slammed against her innermost depth, pressing
up against a profoundly sensitive place that had her suddenly bucking beneath
him.

The orgasm consumed her instantly, hard
and relentless, seeming to come out of nowhere. There was no slow climb up this
wave, only a fierce free-fall that had her heart slamming behind her ribcage
and her breath caught in her throat.

Her body seized up around him, the moist
folds seeming to pull him in even more, till her soul crashed back into her
body, giving her breath once more.

Gasping for air, she purred with him
still inside her. “I don’t know where that one came from.”

“I have some idea,” he responded, moving
her to her side, easing her leg up against his hip. He was still so hard inside
her, but seemed to want her to recover. “Slow and steady for a little while,”
he said, moving in and out of her, achingly unhurried. His hands caressed her, covering
every square inch of her skin within his reach, paying particular attention to
her breasts which felt swollen and alive with sensation.

As he moved inside her again, her eyes
moved downward, watching the place where they were joined. She wanted all her
senses to stay alert of the moment, soaking in his scents, his feel, and yes,
even his taste as she moved to his mouth to explore him with her tongue.

Gently, he moved her onto her back again.
“So beautiful,” he said.

Bracing himself on one arm, his hand
moved to her hair as it spilled across the pillow. He opened his mouth as if to
say something, but held back.

“What?” she asked, just as his rhythm
picked up pace.

Giving a patient smile, he slowed again.
“Nothing.” Then he shook his head. “I’m just wondering how I could have known
you for four years without really seeing you this way, Bess. You are… a
goddess.”

To that, she laughed but couldn’t argue
with him since he pressed his mouth against hers to silence her. He pushed
himself deep inside her, the friction of where their bodies were joined casting
a fire over her, heating her again from her core to the very ends of her fingertips.
In and out he thrust, setting a rhythm based on raw need now. No patience. No
control. She luxuriated in it, watching his muscles tighten beneath his skin. Sensation
pooled inside her again, forcing her higher and higher on a wave each time he
thrust. She was trembling, panting in synchrony with him, and the moans that
escaped her were only drowned out by his own.

When his eyes shut and jaw clenched, she
could feel the moment when she knew he was at his breaking point. She joined
him in the ecstasy, her hips reaching up to him with urgency just as he finally
shattered inside her. Her own climax burst forth from her, leaving her shuddering
beneath him.

In unison, their bodies breathed heavily
as he moved to her side.

Thoroughly satiated, she smiled as she
traced the ridges of his arm upward to his face, and her touch was greeted by his
warm smile.

“So I have an important question for you,
Bess.”

If she weren’t completely exhausted, she
would have felt nervous from the seriousness of his tone. “What’s that?”

“Just how often do you get a case of
insomnia like this?”

She laughed, her hand reaching behind his
neck and pulling his face closer to hers. “Often.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Grinning,
he met his lips to hers.

Tyler awakened on his side, opening his
eyes to the sight of Bess lying beside him. Her mouth was slightly open and her
bare chest gently rose and fell as she breathed.

She was a hell of a sight in the morning,
having the same effect on him as watching the sun rise over Diamond Head in
Hawaii. He’d have to take her there one day, he decided. Abby would love
watching pods of dolphins skimming along the shoreline or whales breaching from
the water, even viewable from the beaches.

Bess murmured something, and Tyler
watched her, gauging whether she was starting to awaken or whether she was just
talking in her sleep.

Still out like a light, he surmised,
feeling slightly disappointed. They had a little more time before they’d need to
pick up Abby, and there was one way Tyler would love to spend his morning.

The sunbeam that had awakened him,
peeking in between the two shades, was slowly making its way toward Bess. He
slipped from his bed to close the blinds as best he could. He wished he had
some blackout shades right now. But seeing as he usually had to wake up in the
pre-dawn hours for PT, there had never been a need before.

Pulling on his shorts, he noticed his
room was messier than he would have preferred for company. He hadn’t exactly
expected to be entertaining a guest, he thought with a satisfied smirk. Not
that he was complaining. But he’d definitely tidy up in here later.

He reached for a t-shirt. Then, thinking
the better of it, set it back down in the drawer. She seemed to like him
bare-chested and he was sure as hell going to need everything working to his
advantage this morning.

Stealing a glance at Bess again, his lips
pressed together in thought. It wasn’t going to be an easy morning. That much he
knew. But he was tough enough to survive it.

Slipping from his room, he decided to
make breakfast for her. She was always cooking for him. Time to turn the
tables. Even if he couldn’t impress her with his skills in the kitchen, it
might be enough to throw her off balance, make her waiver a little bit, give
him just enough time to make a few salient points in the argument they were
about to have. She’d call it a “discussion,” most likely. But it would
definitely be an argument.

Bess was going to have regrets.

He sure as hell didn’t.

After filling the coffeemaker, he opened
the kitchen cabinets. He could make pancakes, maybe.
Damn
. Pancake mix
was nowhere to be found.
Of course not
. Bess would make something like
that from scratch. If he had thought to grab his iPhone or his laptop from his
room before he left, he might have looked up a recipe online. But there was no
way he was going to possibly wake Bess just to get something from his room.

Giving the fridge door a tug, he spotted
eggs.
An omelet.
His wouldn’t be nearly as good as hers always were, but
it was the effort that counted.

He pulled out a few eggs, and a handful
of other ingredients. He had only made scrambled eggs in the past, but had
watched Bess do omelets enough that he was confident he could pull this off.

He chopped up some onions first. Then
mushrooms, and was pretty damn proud of himself when he remembered to wash them
first. What else did she put in there? Cheese, and he’d try a little ham. Who didn’t
like ham, right?

Finding the whisk in the drawer, he started
to stir the eggs. Did the cheese go in first? No, she always sprinkled it on
while the omelet was cooking, he was pretty sure, right along with meat and
vegetables.

Holding his breath, he poured the eggs into
the skillet and felt some measure of satisfaction hearing the same sizzle that
he heard when she cooked one up for him. He couldn’t be that far off the mark.

“’Morning.” Bess’s quiet voice had him
turning around.

“Damn. You’re up already. So much for
breakfast in bed.”

“Oh, is that for me?”

He nodded, giving his skillet a glance. The
sides of the omelet were starting to harden, so he sprinkled on the meat and
vegetables, trying to look confident.

“That’s really nice of you,” she
responded. Her voice was weary, and there was no doubt why. He had allowed her
only an hour of sleep last night, having enjoyed a couple more rounds of
lovemaking after the first.

After so much time spent in the field, he
functioned pretty well after a sleepless night, especially if he was having the
adrenaline rush that came from being in a firefight. And facing Bess this
morning was a pretty damn close equivalent.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said
quietly.

As expected.
He frowned, more because his omelet wasn’t
quite looking right than because of her words. Her statement was right on
schedule.

“You’re sorry? That doesn’t say much
about my performance, now, does it?” He winked, pulling a spatula from the
drawer. “I’ll have to try a little harder next time.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he said, trying to ease up the
sides of the omelet to give it a flip. “I know what you meant. Right now,
you’re thinking about Abby. About whether things will change now, and how? And
how will it affect her. I know you, Bess, and I know exactly what you’re
thinking. That’s why I’m cooking you breakfast.”

“Why?”

“Because I was hoping I’d be able to
stuff something in your mouth so I wouldn’t have to hear it. You got up earlier
than I thought you would.”

“So you’re stuck hearing it now. Because
it’s the truth. I totally made the wrong move, Tyler. I was being so selfish.”

“Selfish? No, I don’t remember you being
at all selfish last night,” he said, cracking a wide grin.

“I’m trying to be serious here, Tyler. We
can’t do this again.”

Now he was getting pissed… at the omelet.
It refused to come free from the pan. “I’ll act the same around Abby. She’ll
never see me groping or ogling her freaking hot mom. But when I get you alone
again, all bets are off.” His grin faded, giving in. “What the hell is wrong
with this damn omelet?”

Standing up, she looked over his
shoulder. “Did you melt butter in the pan first?”

“Damn,” he said, watching his omelet
start to resemble scrambled eggs. “I should have had some coffee before I
started this.” So much for being good on one hour of sleep.

“It’s okay. It’ll taste fine,” she said,
uncertainty in her eyes as he scraped it onto a plate.

He stole a sample bite and shook his
head. “No. It’s horrible.” He must seem tragic to her, he figured, unable to
make a simple breakfast. In truth, before he had moved in with Bess and Abby,
he had pretty much been a protein bar kind of guy in the morning. “Put on some clothes.
I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

“Tyler, really. We have to talk this over.”

So predictable
.

He raised a finger. “Not till you at least
drink your coffee. You get a little on the negative side before you’ve had your
morning coffee.” He poured her a cup, adding a touch of the sweetened creamer
she liked.

Taking the offered mug from his hand,
Bess chugged at least half of it in a quick series of gulps. “Okay. Better?”

He nodded.

“You know we can’t continue this.”

“Continue what exactly?” Tyler asked
innocently.

Puzzled, she looked at him for a full ten
seconds before answering. “You and me. Having sex in this house. That had to be
a one-time thing.” She cocked her head at his completely ambivalent look. “I
have a three-year-old daughter who lives with us.”

“I know. I’ve met her. And there’s this
crazy thing called ‘babysitters.’”

She dropped her gaze to her mug. “I’m not
sending her off to Edith’s every time we want to have sex.”

“Hell, I’m not saying that either, or I’d
never get to see that little girl again. But if you think I’m going to let you
tell me that last night meant nothing to you, that we can just go back to being
friends, then you’re in for a surprise. I’m not a one-night-stand type of guy,
Bess. Never have been. And sure won’t be with someone I care so much about. So
I’m all for pretending that nothing has changed around Abby. She’s three. No
need to confuse her. But the next time I get you alone, it might take a crowbar
to pull me off you.”

Having made his point, he gave a nod.
“Now, since I’ve proven you’re the only competent chef in the house, we’re
going out to eat.”

“Tyler—” she began.

“Get dressed,” he cut her off. “If you’re
planning on listing any more reasons why last night shouldn’t have happened,
you’re going to have to wait till I have a full stomach.”

“Tyler—”

That does it.
He picked her up, tossing her body over his
shoulder.

“What are you doing? Put me down!” Her
tone was half-screech and half-laughter.

“I’m hungry, woman,” he said in his most
caveman-like tone. “You’re getting dressed and we’re going out.” He carried her
up the stairs to her room as she giggled hysterically.

“You’re crazy.”

“Yep. Crazy for you.” He plopped her on
her bed and opened her closet.
Geech
. The girl owned more chewed-up t-shirts
than even he did. He pulled a blue one from a hanger. “Here,” he said, tossing
it her way. “Where do you keep your bras? Much as I prefer you without one, I
have a feeling you’ll want one anyway.”

“Left top drawer,” she said, her face
flushed from laughing so hard.

He tossed her a bra and, finding a pair
of sensible white panties in there, which was apparently the only kind she
owned, tossed her those as well. “Pants?” he asked.

“Middle drawer. But Tyler, I’m not going
out for breakfast. I need to shower. Brush my teeth.”

“You won’t need to where we’re headed.”
He grinned as he tore off to his own room to put on some clothes. This was a
much better idea anyway.

After loading a reluctant Bess into his
car, he pulled out of the driveway.

“Where are we headed?”

“Just north of the Academy. I discovered
a food truck that has breakfast sandwiches almost as good as your omelets. Almost.”
He emphasized, flipping on the radio, hopefully to keep her quiet for a while. No
sense in listening to her droning on about the supposed mistake they had just
made all the way up the coast.

It was a short drive to Dawn’s, the
low-key food truck planted in a parking lot a block away from a public park
that overlooked the Magothy River.

He had read about Dawn’s on a local foodie
website. It wasn’t his normal thing, reading about restaurants, till he had
started to imagine Bess opening one some day. Now, he found it all fascinating,
reading about how people had broken into the business, where they got their
training, or if they even had any.

Dawn, owner of Dawn’s food truck, was a
single mom, too, older than Bess by a couple decades. When her two sons went to
college, she had opened up the food truck to pay for their education. There was
no diploma from Le Cordon Bleu Paris on her résumé.

Despite that, business seemed to be booming
the couple times Tyler had come up here to eat. A long line stretched across
the parking lot.

He shared Dawn’s story as they stood in
line, hoping to plant a little seed in Bess, start her thinking that maybe her
dreams didn’t need to be put on the shelf forever. For a brief moment, he could
envision her so clearly in the future—opening up a food truck someplace
or maybe a full-blown restaurant like Horizons after culinary school.

“I’ve never eaten at a food truck,” Bess
admitted, after being handed three piping hot breakfast sandwiches wrapped in
paper. “Who is the third sandwich for?”

“Me. You think one sandwich can hold a
guy like me?” he laughed. “Come on, Bess, you know me.” He slipped one of his
hands around hers, and led her toward a park bench. “Thought we’d grab a seat and
eat with a water view.”

“Great idea.”

Sitting down, he reached into the bag and
handed her a sandwich. “Now take one bite of this sandwich and tell me that
your omelets couldn’t draw just as much of a crowd.”

Tentatively, she sank her teeth into the
egg and bacon sandwich on a buttered, home-baked English muffin. “This is
really good.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s nothing compared
to your omelets. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I think Dawn is a master with
these breakfast sandwiches. But Bess,” he lowered his voice glancing over his
shoulder to the food truck on the other end of the park, “you have to look at
that place and know that you could do the same thing
and
do it better.
If you opened up a food truck off Meade serving up those omelets of yours,
you’d have Soldiers lined up along Reece Road every morning. You could call it
‘The Big O’ or something.”

Bess let a little snort slip as the
laughed. “The Big O. Maeve would love that.”

“Just something to think about.” Chewing
his sandwich, he savored the idea of Bess sometime breaking free of that damn
dental office to pursue her dream, whether in a food truck or a Zagat-rated
restaurant. Hell, he hated going to the dentist.
And she has to do it five
times a week?