No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1) (14 page)

“Becca’s not my girlfriend.”

“—and starting a business with you and—”

His words made her rant come to a screeching halt.

“
What?
”

“What gave you the idea that she’s my girlfriend?”

Her cheeks flushed and she swayed in response to the influx
of blood pooling in her brain. “What?” she repeated, somehow unable to form
sentences that stretched beyond one word.

“Becca is not my girlfriend. We’ve never even dated. She’s
my friend. My very good friend. But girlfriend?” He cringed noticeably, then
shook his head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. She’s cute and smart, and some guy
will be lucky to have her. But she’s the sister of my former CO. That makes her
like my sister. Nothing like—
shit
.” He looked away, visibly
disturbed by the image he was concocting in his head.

Bridget’s mouth dropped open. “But you said you found an
apartment for you two.”

“For her. I found an apartment for her and Brandon. I
haven’t even started looking for me yet. I’m easy. I can live at the bottom of
the well and be fine. But she and Brandon need a nice place, you know? That
takes priority.”

A place with a yard
, he’d said, she now remembered.
A
place big enough for two
, was how he’d worded it. For Becca and her son.

“And your face just lights up when you talk about her,” she
pointed out.

“It does?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged. “Well, I admire her, I guess. Hell, I love her.
She’s the closest thing to a sister I’ll ever have. She and Brandon—they
mean the world to me. What they went through—I don’t know—it hit me
a lot more than the other guys. I see in her what my mom must have gone through
when my dad died.” His face leaned into her and he pulled her close again. “I,
uh, can call Becca up on my cell and she can confirm all this for you.”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t you dare. This is humiliating
enough.”

“Why? I think it’s funny. And I feel better. I was starting
to wonder what the hell had you pulling away from me every time we got close. So…”
His voice trailed as he looped a tendril of her hair around his index finger.
“…you won’t pull away if I do more of this?”

As he brought his lips to hers again, her eyes flickered
shut and it was as though she was losing consciousness, floating on a gentle
wave to some distant layer of reality.

“You’re single,” she whispered when their lips parted,
breathing out the words more as a reminder, rather than a question. A reminder
to herself that she really could do this without remorse. “Single and
available
,”
she added the next word with some emphasis, as she slid her hand along his jaw,
enjoying the feel of his afternoon stubble against her fingertips.

A grin slid up one side of his mouth. “Available to you,” he
specified as he touched his lips to hers.

There was no holding back now. No hesitation as her mouth
fused with his. Gentle tremors vibrated her skin as she raked her hands over
his back. She slid her fingers beneath his shirt and felt the taut muscles of
his lats beneath her fingertips. The touch seemed to unleash a flood of arousal
within him as he whisked her into his arms and carried her into the house.

In the kitchen, his lips broke from hers, and their gazes
roved over each other like a pair of hungry animals.

“Do you want to—” he paused, setting her down on the
counter, his breath coming in sharp pants. Digging his hands into her hair, his
eyes feasted on her.

Yes. Yes I want to.

“—grab a bite to eat downtown?” He finished the words
in one pained gasp.

“Huh?”

“We could get some crab cakes. I hear they’re legendary.”

“You’re hungry?”

His eyebrows rose. “Bridget, what I’m hungry for isn’t crab
cakes. But since you’ve only known me as a single man for all of five minutes, I
was thinking I might buy you dinner first.”

“Everyplace will be packed downtown with the flight
demonstration,” she said, her voice muffled as she pressed her lips against his
neck, savoring the feel of his pulse against her lips.

He lifted her off the counter, spinning her ninety degrees
so that she was then pressed against the wall. Lifting her arms above her, he
grasped her by the wrists in one hand, with his other splaying against her
ribs. “We could head into DC or Baltimore,” he responded, breathless, his hands
slipping beneath the bottom of her shirt.

“Traffic’s bad,” she murmured, and gasped as his fingers
moved upward along the bottom curve of her breast. There was no way they were
leaving this house till she extinguished the flames that had burned molten-hot
since he first walked through her doorway.

“I’m trying to do the honorable thing here, Bridget.”

“And I’m trying to stop you.” Her hands raked down his sides
and moved toward his crotch.

His eyes slammed shut as her hand communicated exactly what
she wanted to happen next.

“You know what we could do for dinner?” His voice was
gravelly as she cupped his cock in her hand.

“What’s that?”

“Delivery.”

“Sold,” she said, devouring him like the dinner they’d be
postponing, stealing his breath in a kiss.

His tongue lashed against her teeth, and she moaned in
response, his taste so decadent to her. Her fingers reached for the bottom of
his shirt, sizzling as they met his silky skin and moving upward to his chest.

Growling, he tugged his shirt off and let her gape at the
sight—the feel—of steel-clad muscles against her tongue.

Heat swirled inside her, aching for him, and he seemed to
sense her need, unbuttoning her shirt as he kissed every newly revealed square
inch of skin.

“My God,” he said quietly, almost reverently, as his lips
traced along the upper contour of her breast down to where she was concealed by
a thin piece of lace at the top of her bra. “You are beautiful, Bridget.” His thumbs
flicked against her nipples, making her breath catch.

“Couch,” she somehow managed to say, tossing her head in the
direction of the living room.

A smile formed on his hungry lips. “Bad habit. You’ll have
guests before you know it. Bedroom.”

Joy warmed her insides just as much as arousal then, thinking
of the very prospect of making
this
a habit. She could definitely handle
that. Her lips moved to his chest, fingers tracing along each hard ripple, and savoring
the thundering of his heartbeat beneath her lips.

“Yours is nicer,” she murmured.

“Yours is closer,” he responded, hoisting her onto his hips
so that she could feel his erection where she needed to most, and then walking
them swiftly down the short hallway off the kitchen to her quarters.

“Through here, right?” he murmured, lips still fused with
hers.

“How’d you guess?” she whimpered back.

He pulled his face away and grinned. “I’ve fantasized about
sneaking down here every night since I arrived.”

“Sounds like the fantasies I’ve been having the past week,”
she concurred.

He nudged the door with his shoulder and set her down on the
unmade bed. A wry grin slid up his face as he took in their unkempt
surroundings. “You make
my
bed every morning, but not your own?”

“Hate making beds,” she confessed. “Pointless to make them
when you’re just going to sleep in them again.”

“Agreed.” He blanketed her body with his own and scraped his
teeth lightly against the skin in between her breasts. Her breath quickened,
and her hand slid from his back to his ass, and then toward his front, daring
to press against the part of him she needed the most right now.

With an urgency that seemed to radiate from her core, she
fumbled with the zipper of his shorts until he helped her, pulling off his
shorts and briefs in one swift move.

Her eyes fixated on the long, thick erection that jutted
from his body. He was exquisite, throbbing in her hand after she wrapped her
fingers around him. She wanted him so desperately it actually
hurt—physically hurt—to not have him inside of her.

“Get this skort off me,” she demanded, breathless, her limbs
tingling with need, almost unable to get the job done herself.

He lowered his mouth to her belly, his tongue teasing her
navel, dipping in and out as he unzipped her skort. He fed on her skin as he
revealed her hipbones slowly, then lower till his hand grasped her panties,
taking them with him as he stripped her. Finally she felt the chill of air
against her heat as he slid her skort completely free of her body.

Then he licked her.

He licked and suckled and nibbled till the moisture spilled
from her. Her body arched in need. Legs opening instinctively, she rejoiced at
the feel of his tongue consuming her in one long stroke from her moist folds to
her clit. Devouring her, he became more emboldened with each cry that escaped
her. And when she grasped his head, threading her fingers through his hair, he
sucked in the hard nub as his finger slid inside her.

Her body coiled like a spring when she came, her core
thrusting against him as she cried out his name. And then again—as she
vibrated beneath him, milking the sensation for all the pleasure it gave her.

 She thought it was his turn now, his turn to feel the
release, and she reached for him.

“Not yet,” he said. “I haven’t completely unwrapped my
gift.”

“Your gift?”

“Mmm…” he murmured, lowering the fabric at the top of her
bra to take one of her nipples into his mouth. “It’s my birthday.”

Her eyebrows rose. “It’s your birthday?”

“Yeah. In four months.”

She laughed as he slid his hand beneath the confines of her
bra to her other breast. He massaged her, gently at first, then more forcefully,
sliding his other hand toward her back, slipping it between her and the mattress.
Relief overtook her as he unclasped her bra, and pulled it away. His breath
touched her, his mouth meandering over the freshly exposed skin as though he
was deciding where to kiss her next.

Her breasts so full they ached, she was grateful when he
gently took a nipple in his mouth. His hand moved again, pressing his palm
against her core, letting her rub against him as he flicked his tongue against her,
massaging each breast alternately with delicate care.

Still lower on her body, his fingers toyed with her, dipping
into her and then moving to the sensitive nub.

Her body drew tight again, and she could feel the need to
release building inside of her. “I want you inside of me. I want you in me when
I come,” she gritted out.

“You will,” he assured her. Yet still he didn’t move to take
her with anything but his tongue, his mouth, his hands. She was poised to
explode, struggling to keep the orgasm at bay until he could feel release with
her. Finally, she could hold off no longer, giving in to the sheer ecstasy of
sensation, her body bucking beneath him like a wanton, and too thrilled at the
release to feel any shame when she screamed.

He grinned up at her, his eyes smug. “You’ll have to hold
those screams back when you have guests.” Humor creased his eyes.

She was still panting. “I wanted you in me that time. I
don’t think I can handle another.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, if that’s your way of saying
you think we should take this a little slower…” he suggested, his voice gruff
as he nibbled his way from her collarbone to her neck.

She lifted her head slightly to look at him. He was dead
serious. He’d stop right now if she was having second thoughts.

Grinning, her fingers slid against his scalp, holding him
close. “Absolutely no fair saying that while you’re doing
that
.”

She felt the grin on his face against her chest before she
saw it when he raised his face to hers.

“You’re right. I wasn’t playing fair.” He leaned back from
her slightly, letting the chill of the air meet her skin, causing a shroud of
goose bumps. “Are you sure you don’t want to take things slower?”

She grinned slyly. “Let’s start taking things slower tomorrow
morning, okay?” She reached for his cock and felt it throb in her hand in
response.

“Thank God. Because I was going to need an entire night in a
cold shower to recover at this point.” His tongue swept along her neck to her
ear.

“I’m on city water. I don’t need that for my water bill,”
she murmured against him.

Desolation assailed her as he moved away from her, reaching
for his shorts and pulling a condom out of his wallet. He tore it open with his
teeth and sheathed himself quickly, yet not quickly enough. Her body ached for
the closeness—the heat—that only he could provide.

Surrendering to her primal need, her eyelids fluttered, feeling
the need to shut. Yet she fought it, still savoring the sight of his muscles
above her as he poised himself at her entry. She traced her fingers along his
abs, down to that tempting V, and then to where he slid inside of her, making
her lids finally slam shut. His length and width filled her, stretched her.