Thanks, Dad.
As she was busy forging a new path in her life, Marcus was slowly worming himself into hers. He’d been leaving his personal items at her house each day. Just that morning, Cindy went into the guest room to change the bedsheets and noticed a few of his clothes accumulating in the closet.
She realized she didn’t mind.
When she went to the garage to collect the ladder, there was an unfamiliar power drill and nail gun lying on top of the red tool cabinet.
She didn’t mind that either.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Marcus was easing her into accepting his unconditional help. And the way he was doing it—with charm and quiet support—was making her receptive.
She was also discovering a lot about herself in the past few days and it was all thanks to the handsome former SEAL commander.
While she contemplated further education that would bring her closer to her dream in hospitality, she also embarked on culinary adventures.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing, she did second-guess some of her decisions. For example, when Mrs. Jung asked for help to fold a batch of dumplings because her friend backed out on her, Cindy hesitated in saying yes.
But she loved it that she could bounce her doubt off Marcus so she texted him first.
Cindy: Mrs. Jung wants help with the dumplings.
Marcus: ??
Cindy: Wrapping them.
Marcus: What’s the problem?
Cindy: Should I?
Marcus: If it doesn’t feel like an obligation, I don’t see why not.
Cindy pondered his question. Wrapping dumplings was relaxing, and she did enjoy the eating of them afterward.
Cindy: I like doing it, but since I’m trying to form new habits of not being a yes person, I didn’t want to derail that.
Marcus: Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Cindy: Is that a saying from your namesake?
Bubbles … stop … bubbles again.
Marcus: Doubt it was Marcus Aurelius who said that, sugar.
She typed in a smiling emoji.
Cindy: Guess not. What time will you be home tonight?
Marcus: 6:30 good?
Cindy: Should be done by then. Anything you want to eat?
Marcus: Don’t cook. I’m taking you out to dinner.
Cindy: Dress up or casual?
Marcus didn’t reply for a while, but he was typing or re-typing, judging from the motion of the bubbles.
Finally, his answer came. Her breath caught and instant warmth pooled between her legs.
Marcus: Wear a dress. I have plans.
She stared at his text, not sure how to respond. Minutes later she was still staring at her phone. Marcus didn’t seem to be typing anything else.
Ball was in her court.
She knew just the dress.
* * *
Marcus didn’t regret his last text. He’d been staying at her place for almost a week, six days where he slept in the room next to hers, sporting the worst case of blue balls. Jacking off daily in the shower, sometimes twice a day, helped a little, but not much. At first he blamed his two years of celibacy, but no other woman had gotten him this worked up.
None.
It was only with Cindy, so he knew it wasn’t plain old libido talking. He hadn’t gotten to his age of forty-six and not be familiar with his sexual impulses. He’d had his share of Frog Hogs before he married Dianne. The faceless one-night-stands following the dark time when he lost his family and most of Fire Team were usually fueled by drinking, trying to numb the pain through alcohol and meaningless sex.
He pulled the black Expedition behind the garage of Cindy’s house, pleased that she’d left the door closed. Prior to the stalking, she usually left it open like most people in the neighborhood did. It took time to form a habit, just like when she left the back door to her kitchen unlocked the other night. Marcus was just glad he was around.
He strode down the driveway to the parked patrol car in front of the house. It took some convincing, but the Virginia Beach police finally agreed to provide police protection on a temporary basis until things cooled down.
Trevor had been released. No one was pressing charges, but Cindy finally got a restraining order on him. The stalker business wasn’t an open-and-shut case as far as Marcus was concerned, even if there was no sign from that son of a bitch in days. Was it Keith? Was Cindy’s stalker lying low because he was injured?
Marcus managed to gain permission for Tex to tap into Cindy’s computer to find any suspicious programs. Their hacker friend was on another project but promised to check out the laptop soon. Marcus left the computer in their office—powered up—for Tex to log in to and poke around when he got the chance.
He walked to the driver’s side of the police cruiser. Officers Sanchez and Hutch were their names. Somehow that translated to Starsky and Hutch in his mind.
“Officers,” Marcus greeted. “Everything okay?”
Sanchez powered down his window. He was dark-skinned with dark wavy hair. He and his partner Hutch made quite a contrasting pair since the latter was as white as sliced bread.
“Everything’s cool, Mr. Harrelson. No suspicious activity.” The man’s mouth turned down at the corners. “We might have to cut back our patrol hours since our report doesn’t justify the police protection.”
Shit. “I understand. I should be able to keep an eye on Ms. Lake in the coming days.”
“Honestly, sir, I think it’s a lovers’ spat,” Sanchez said. “With the restraining order on the ex, Ms. Lake should be fine.”
Marcus offered a tight smile.
“Hell, we’re gonna miss the afternoon snacks,” Hutch piped in.
“That’s Cindy for you. She’d feed the neighborhood if she could.”
Sanchez’s brows furrowed. “Cindy? No, it’s not Ms. Lake. Mrs. Tilley makes us lemonade and sandwiches.”
Marcus didn’t know what to make of that information. Ever since Cindy took Mrs. Jung’s side in the kimchi altercation, Angela had been surprisingly scarce. Cindy did mention her neighbor needed help with some jams so maybe she’d gotten over her snit.
“I see. You guys can go. I’ll take it from here.”
“Sure thing, sir.”
He walked back to the house and let himself in. He could hear a flurry of activity from Cindy’s bedroom, most noticeably the slamming of drawers.
“Cindy,” he called, depositing his keys on the foyer table and walking into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “I’m home!”
They sounded like an old married couple. A wry grin touched his lips just as a pang of yearning stirred in his chest.
Jesus, they hadn’t gone out on an official date yet.
Well, that was about to change.
Heels clacked on the hardwood floor and Cindy swept out of the mouth of the hallway. Marcus spied her gliding by, and he rounded the counter to give her a kiss.
And stopped.
His jaws slackened, eyes widening at the expanse of the sunkissed-skin of her shoulders before dropping to her shapely legs that seemed to go on for miles. Cindy was tall, and now she was taller. At six-four, Marcus maybe had four inches over her with the strappy heels she was wearing.
“My eyes are up here, sailor.” Her voice was husky, and as his gaze lifted to her face, he was struck by the double-whammy of her smoky eyes and luscious lips, which were painted a reddish hot pink or whatever color that was called.
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
A corner of her lips tilted up. “Guess that’s a good sign?” She did a sexy pivot in her black dressy number. But for all the gears turning in Marcus’s brain all it could compute was Cindy, on the kitchen counter—naked—with his head buried in the sweetness between her thighs.
Without breaking eye contact, he lowered the glass of water and advanced on her.
She stuttered backward in her damned high heels and emitted a nervous laugh that died when he caught her elbow and backed her against
the pantry wall.
Flattening her against the surface with his body, his erection pressed into her softness.
“You trying to make me lose my mind?” he clipped.
She wet her lips, her eyes hooded. “Maybe.”
“Seven nights of cold showers and jacking off to the thoughts of you sleeping in the next room. Can’t wait to sink into you …” He crooked a forefinger under her chin, tilting it up so she had no choice but to lock eyes with him. “You okay with that?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.
“Wanted to talk to you first,” he gritted out. “About taking this to the next level before I fuck you.”
“I think we’ve talked enough.” Her eyes flashed defiantly.
“You wet for me, sugar?” Marcus didn’t wait for her to answer, his hand sought the center of her heat. Her arousal emanated from her even before he discovered the slickness of her pussy. “You’re so damned ready for me.”
He was so turned on he could bust a nut. His breathing roughened as he slipped one finger and then two inside her. “Gonna take you hard, Cin.”
She swayed on her feet and he steadied her even as he worked his fingers between her legs.
“You hungry?” he growled.
“Not for food,” she gasped, emitting the sweetest moan that triggered a direct response from his dick.
“Good fucking answer,” he rasped just as his mouth crashed on hers. Their tongues hungered for each other as his fingers worked her over, his thumb pressing on her sweet spot as she shuddered and cried into his mouth.
His cock pressed desperately against his zipper but he held on to his sanity. He wasn’t going to drive into her without tasting her first.
Marcus withdrew his fingers even as Cindy objected. He shoved her skirt over her hips, stood back, and stared at the valley between her legs hidden behind lace and satin shit.
He gripped her ass and lifted her.
“I’m heavy—”
“Hush,” he ordered.
He dropped her on the countertop. Anticipation heightened as he threaded her panties down her legs and caught on a heel. She looked shit hot with her dress bunched up to her waist, her pretty pussy bare, and those fuck-me stilettos fulfilling every hot-blooded male’s wet dream.
Dragging her ass to the edge of the countertop, he put her legs over his shoulders, his head descended and his tongue went straight for her clit.
And tasted heaven.
She moaned loudly, her fingers digging into his scalp, but he continued to feast on her taste. Circling her clit, lapping her folds before dipping into her entrance, giving her broad strokes with his tongue. Cindy let out a cry and bucked her hips. He continued to give it to her, relishing her every pull on his head and press of her pussy against his mouth.
Cindy, after an orgasm, was malleable. He sat her up like a rag doll and he couldn’t help smirking.
“Want my cock, sugar?”
Her eyes lowered to his erection, which was painfully obvious by now.
She nodded vigorously.
He chuckled, even if he was experiencing the sweetest torture. “Up then.” He gripped her bare ass and lifted her, her long legs wrapping around him. He caught her lips and kept busy, kissing her as he walked them to the bedroom.
He dropped her to the mattress and followed straight on top of her. He dragged her low neckline over her bra, unhooked it from behind and his mouth latched on to her breast, but Cindy wouldn’t let him linger.
She was as impatient for him as he was for her, frantically unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his slacks, and shoving it along with his boxer briefs over his ass.
Her hand circled his erection in a firm grip.
Marcus hissed. “Jesus, sugar.”
He propped upon his elbows, taking a look where she held him at her mercy. Then he flicked his gaze back at her.
With their eyes locked, she pleasured herself with his cock, rubbing her folds and circling her clit with the engorged tip. Marcus would be damned if he spilled like a boy about to have his first blowjob and withstood the torture. Cindy arched her back as another orgasm rippled through her. He lost her eyes, but watching his woman come, watching her take control of her pleasure, was the biggest fucking turn-on in his life.
Her body relaxed and she released his cock, shifted her hands to his shoulders and looked up at him with a sexy smile and said, “All yours, sailor.”
Somehow Marcus got the condom around his shaft and without waiting, he drove into her just as her legs dug into his thighs.
He pounded into her hard, fierce, and fast. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, lowering his face into her neck as he pumped into her relentlessly.
Her delicious heat clenched around him, gripping his cock in a tight wet glove, each slide in and out of her making him harder and harder, taking him to the edge.
His mouth clumsily found hers once more, wanting that connection as sensations rippled up his spine. He shuddered, ramming deep, staying planted, tearing away from the kiss as his back arched and he grunted his release. He dropped his head to the crook of her neck and sagged against her.
The pounding of his heart was a drumbeat in his ears and they were both quiet, save for their breathing, the heavy afterglow of sex saturating the room.
“That was so damned good.” Arms shaky, he tried not to crush her with his weight, unwilling to let go of their connection.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “I’d say that was pretty darn fantastic.”
He smiled against her skin, nipping her jaw before claiming those sweet lips again. He couldn’t touch her enough.
Then he remembered dinner.
Sighing, he reluctantly broke the kiss and withdrew from her. “I don’t wanna leave this bed, but I gotta feed you.”
Her light laugh made him smile. “Yes, you do. I guess I’m heading into dinner with the freshly fucked look.”
Marcus stared at her lips that were swollen from his kisses. “You sure are, sugar.”
She punched his shoulder playfully and he backed off from the bed and helped her stand, straightening her dress and fixing her bra.
Cindy walked over to her dresser mirror and winced. “My hair is a mess.”
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, looking at their reflection. “You look perfect to me.”
She rolled her eyes.
His mouth twitched. “Perfectly fuckable.”
She scowled at him in the mirror. “I should punish you and not wear panties.”
Marcus stilled and this time it was his turn to scowl. “You are not leaving this house without panties.”
He stepped back and surveyed her dress. “For that matter, your damned skirt is four inches too short.”
“You’re one to talk seeing that you didn’t waste time taking advantage.” Cindy moved away from him, looked over her shoulder in a sultry way, and strutted that perfect ass out of the bedroom.
Is she serious?
Marcus cursed and disposed of the condom in her bathroom. Tucking his still hard cock into his pants, thankful he wasn’t wearing jeans—he found Cindy in the kitchen snagging her panties from the floor. She twirled it around her fingers, as she shot him a siren look and slingshotted the panties at him.
“Cindy,” he warned, catching and fisting the piece of fabric.
“Marcus …” she drawled sweetly.
“You know. If you’re gonna tempt me all night going commando like that, you gotta prepare for the consequences.”
Her brow arched, but she stilled as an air of awareness sizzled between them. Their gazes met in heated challenge. “Oh, care to tell me?”
“You’re playing with fire, Cin.” He erased the distance between them, catching her lazily at her nape and bringing their faces close.
Her breath hitched and the excitement of a predator surged through him. He dipped his head, close enough so she could feel his breath by her ear. “I’m gonna make you come until you beg me to stop. And tomorrow?
You’re gonna feel like I’m still inside you, still throbbing between your legs as you go about your day.”
He raised his head and stared at her, the glazed look in her eyes almost made him want to cancel dinner and fuck her all night.
As if reading his mind, her throat bobbed, making a sound as if her mouth had gone dry. “Should we take a rain check on dinner?”
“Hell no,” he murmured, changing his tune, enjoying the anticipation of a blistering hot evening. “I want you to sit across from me at dinner imagining every way I want to take you.”
Her lips parted in shock, but she was speechless.
“Be prepared to scream all night.”
Chapter 12
Cindy couldn’t concentrate on the worksheet in front of her. All she could think about was the scorching night with Marcus where he made good on his promise to make her scream all night. If Izabel hadn’t called for a work emergency this morning, she wouldn’t be at Stockman and Bose at seven-thirty with barely two hours of sleep. She grabbed the tumbler of coffee Marcus had slipped into her hand before he drove her to work.
She closed her eyes as her mind recalled the look on Marcus’s face as he leaned in to kiss her goodbye when he dropped her off. It was a look that caused her heart to skip, her skin to prickle, and her toes to curl.
Cindy was in serious trouble of falling in love, not that she wasn’t already. Despite her intentions of giving up men for a while, she’d be a hypocrite to think said moratorium still existed. Nope, Marcus completely obliterated her resistance, and her previous infatuation for the former SEAL had only deepened into something more.
Something real.
Her eyes refocused on the numbers on the screen. Work was interfering with her desire to daydream. She chuckled to herself. Wasn’t she acting like a giddy school girl? If this was how true love should feel, it was addictive.
Exhaling with exaggeration, she returned her attention to the task at hand. Izabel had to make a site visit that morning, but Mr. Bose was demanding an updated budget estimate of one of their projects. Drake dropped off Izzy’s laptop for Cindy to use since Tex still needed to poke around in hers.
Guarding Cindy (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 8
