They positioned themselves along the wall, both making the final preparation to ascend. Sarina looked around at the kids standing around. “Come on, join us. Marcus needs the support and he’s sidanelv—that’s Cherokee for family. We don’t let our family do it alone, right?”
Big Pete, Katie and Teresa all stepped up and prepared to climb with their friend. And they did it—together. Marcus stumbled at times and he was scared, but the other kids and Sarina kept him going, cheering him on and giving him helpful pointers when necessary. Forty-five minutes later Marcus was standing on the ground again, smiling proudly as his buddies all piled on with hugs and high fives.
Hair mussed and cheeks pink with her efforts, her grin contagious, Sarina moved over to Justin. “So, when am I going to get you up on that wall?”
“I think you need to reconcile yourself to disappointment,” Justin said, helping her as she divested herself of her equipment again. He sneaked a peek at her, turning over in his head something he’d wondered about since meeting Sarina. “You were really good with him. I could see your military training working so well and it makes me wonder why you left the army when you were obviously made for it.”
Sarina messed with the stuff in her hands, taking so long that he wasn’t sure she was going to answer him. When she did, it was in a quiet tone, edged with regret and little wistfulness. “The army works because we all have the same purpose but also because we become a family for one another. My people had moved on to the next duty station, left the service, gotten married and had babies. It was time for me to find my own life, my own future.”
Justin debated asking her the question on his mind. The obvious question. He did it anyway. He wasn’t good with waiting. “How is that working out for you?”
She flashed him a half smile, shaking her hair out of her eyes. “I’m working on it.”
And while he knew he shouldn’t, he wanted her plans to include him.
Nine
“Permission to come aboard?”
Sarina popped her head out the window of the tree house and looked down at the man standing at the bottom of the steps. Justin was so sexy, wearing a black T-shirt and shorts, a pair of flip-flops on his long feet. He had his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and he was holding a bag with a local sandwich shop name on the side in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.
It had only been a couple of hours since she’d seen him at the center and he was still hot. Still making her stomach flip with the jolt of heated sensual recognition.
“Justin, that’s for boats, not tree houses,” she chastised him with a laugh. “And this is your tree house.”
“Nope. I think I’ve lost ownership of the tree house while you and Wilma are in residence. That’s what Nana Orla says,” he answered, nodding toward his uplifted hands. “I come bearing food and drink.”
“Well, in that case, come on up.”
Sarina retreated into the tree house, pulling the scrunchie off her hair and fluffing it up. She caught her reflection in the small mirror over the bookcase on the wall; her cheeks were flushed even without a stitch of makeup. She’d seen the photos online of Justin with women and they were all beauty queens with perfect hair, clothes and makeup. Sarina had never worried about it before and now was too late with her messy hair and old cotton sundress.
She couldn’t do anything about it in the next five seconds She was who she was.
And why was she thinking about this at all? This was never going to be anything. Her husband wouldn’t be her husband in a few short weeks. She needed to stop acting like every encounter with him was a first date. It wasn’t anything like that.
So why did it feel like that’s exactly what it was?
“You look gorgeous.”
Sarina spun, surprised to see Justin standing behind her so soon. He must have raced up the steps and here he was, his expression telling her that he liked what he saw. She blushed, heat spreading over her skin like the breeze whispering through the windows of the tree house.
Wilma growled from her little nest of blankets on the daybed. She was buried underneath the covers; the only visible part of her little body was her nose and two big dark eyes.
“Oh wait, I forgot to offer my tribute to the lady of the manor,” Justin said, dumping the food and the beer on the side table. He fished a little gift bag covered in a design of various cartoon dogs out of his pocket, the paper crumpled from being shoved in there. “I noticed that our grumpy Wilma needed a new collar and tag. I took the liberty of getting her one that’s fit for the badass she is.”
Sarina took the bag from him, opened it and pulled out the little collar. It was black leather with three rows of shiny silver studs and a metal piece that had “Wilma” engraved on it. From it dangled a motorcycle-shaped silver tag with Sarina’s name and cell phone number. It was perfect.
“I figured she’d love the motorcycle babe theme. You know, for when you get your bike back and you two start your road trip up all over again.” Justin dipped his head, his demeanor unsure and shy.
“I love it. She’ll love it.” Sarina wavered, not sure of what she should do and finally sitting down next to Wilma, drawing the little dog onto her lap. She removed the old collar, easing the new one around her neck and fastening it securely. It looked great on her. “She looks like a little badass.”
“She does.”
“Thank you, Justin,” Sarina said, nodding her head when Justin reached out to pet the dog’s head. Wilma growled at first, dipping her head in submission when Justin stroked the silky spot between her ears. She hid her face in the crook of Sarina’s arm, peeking out to look up at Justin with sweet, sad eyes. “Wilma says thank you, too.”
“She didn’t bite me. I’ll take that as a win.”
Sarina put down the little dog and they both watched as she crossed the room, curling up in a ball on a floor cushion. Wilma burrowed into the fabric, huffing out a long sigh before she closed her eyes and ignored the humans.
“Here, I’ll thank you properly,” Sarina said, rising to her feet and pulling Justin to her in a soft, sweet kiss. Just barely a brush of the lips; she meant it to be brief, a throwaway, but she felt it down to her toes.
His arms slid around her waist and she gripped them, drawing him closer to her body. They didn’t deepen the kiss; it was enough to be wrapped around each other, sinking into the sweetness of the moment.
“Sarina,” Justin breathed, his fingertips ghosting over her face, tracing her lips and cheekbones. “I want you all the time.”
“I want you, too,” she sighed, kissing his palm, her breath catching in her chest. “This is such a bad idea.”
“The worst,” he agreed, tightening his hold when she tried to pull away. “The best.” He groaned, kissing her mouth, his tongue dipping inside, teasing her. Driving her crazy. “I think we should keep doing it.”
“Of course you do.” Sarina smiled against his lips. She should be putting an end to this but she just couldn’t. It was beyond her power. “You are a gambler, right?”
“Hear me out,” Justin said, pulling back enough to look her in the eye. “We have this connection, attraction, that has been there from the first. But neither of us is looking for anything serious or permanent, right?”
“If we were, we’d stay married.”
“Exactly.” Justin ran his thumb across her bottom lip, visibly holding back a moan when she licked it. “But I’m here and you’re here for the next few weeks. We want each other. We know we’re good together. So why not indulge? All we’re going to do is give in over and over and then beat ourselves up for it.” He pulled her closer and she could feel the heat of him, the hardness of his cock pressed against her body. “I want to be inside you again. I want to make you fall apart all over me. That’s what I want, Sarina.”
Sarina considered him; there were a million reasons why she
should say no to this and push him away. She wasn’t classy enough to fit in his life. She didn’t know how to be with someone in a relationship. They weren’t headed for a happily ever after. Their divorce papers were in the works.
But the bottom line was that she didn’t want to. She was lonely, or at least tired of being alone in her bed, and she knew that Justin wouldn’t try to stop her when it was time for her to leave.
And she wanted him. She liked the way he looked at her, as if she was important to him, as if she had a power over him that she’d never had with anyone else. The power to linger, to be remembered, to be yearned for.
But she’d never tell him that. It wasn’t necessary for their current arrangement.
“Yes. I want you inside me again. Please, Justin.”
“Thank God,” he breathed and she was suddenly surrounded by him. His hard, muscled arms wrapped around her and his mouth possessed hers. The kiss was intense, hungry, and so was his touch as it roamed all over her body, tracing heat over her bare skin.
She clutched at him, finding it frustrating to be unable to get close enough. To feel enough. Sarina tugged him back, sitting down on the mattress of the daybed and pulling him down on top of her. She needed to feel his weight on her, to have something to strain against, something to hold on to when he drove her out of her mind.
“Justin, please.” She reached down, snagging the hem of his T-shirt and dragging it over his head. Sarina sighed, some of the tension in her gut easing when she touched him, skimmed her fingertips over the warm expanse of his skin. It was as if her body had been waiting for this moment, the moment when she could feel him again, connect with him again. “I remember this.”
Sarina traced a finger down his chest, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen to the edge of his waistband. She watched his face, the way he bit his lip in pleasure, the soft flutter of his eyelashes as he fought the urge to close his eyes and just sink into the anticipation of her touch.
“Do you remember this?” she asked as she unfastened the button on his shorts and eased down the zipper. His cock was hard, straining upward behind his boxer briefs, and she wasted no time in easing down the fabric and holding him, hot and heavy in her hand.
“Damn, Sarina. Touch me, please.” Justin panted above her, his words deep and guttural.
She was never going to tell him no, never going to deny him. Not this. Not when she wanted to taste him again so very badly.
Sarina shoved him over onto his back, using the movement to push down his shorts and boxer briefs to his thighs and then slide them down his legs. Justin sprawled out beneath her, his long, hard body so gorgeous in the sunlight that filtered through the windows of the tree house.
“You don’t have to,” he whispered, his fingers tangled in her hair.
“But I want to. I need to taste you.”
Sarina leaned over and took him in her mouth, tentatively at first as she got used to the width and length of him. He smelled of heat and salt and sweat and the sand-and-sun fragrance that was Justin to her. He reached down and wrapped his long fingers around his dick as he offered it to her like a present.
Sarina moaned at the invitation, taking more of him in her mouth as his hips rocked forward in an invitation too good to pass up. She opened her mouth wider and slid him in, indulging in the weight of him on her tongue. His taste was intoxicating, seductive and familiar as she sucked and teased him in turn.
Justin moved beneath her; with each stroke of her tongue he grunted and gasped, his fingers digging into her hair, pulling and leaving a shock of tingling pleasure on her scalp. He grew harder, skin tighter, his moans of pleasure louder in the silence of the treetops and Sarina reveled in her power to make him feel all these things. Giving him pleasure made her wet, the ache in her breasts, her belly, her sex building with each thrust and suck. If this was only temporary, she was going to make sure she had amazing memories to take with her.
“Sarina, stop, baby.” Justin pulled away from her, his expression half pain and half feral as he reversed their positions and flipped her underneath him.
He dipped his head, taking her mouth in a kiss that was meant to calm him—or her, she wasn’t sure. She wove her fingers in his hair, opening her mouth to him, spreading her legs in a sexual invitation. Justin ground against her, the friction delicious but not enough with her clothing still between them. She whimpered in frustration and he broke off the kiss, pulling back enough to be able to look down at her.
“Sarina, I’m going to take this dress off you and then I’m not going to stop until you come.” He swallowed hard, his eyes intent on her face. “If you don’t want it, tell me to stop.”
Sarina pushed against his chest, urging him to sit back on his knees. He complied immediately, trying hard to mask the disappointment that slid back into heated desire when she lifted the hem of her sundress and slipped it over her head.
“Does that answer your question?”
Sarina was the answer to all of his questions.
Justin knew this as sure as he knew that he would die if he didn’t get inside her soon. But first he needed to explore her, taste her, make her feel a tenth of what he was experiencing right now. Sarina was usually an island unto herself, insulated from the world, and he understood why. But she let him in and now he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had it all.
He inched backward off the daybed, reaching down to slip off her panties on the way down her body. He paused over her abdomen, placing soft, searching kisses along her flesh, loving the heavy inhales and exhales. Justin peered up at her, finding her eyes locked on his, intense and dark with her desire.
Sarina licked her lips and reached out to touch him but pulled back at the last moment, her swollen lips curved into a hint of a smile. He watched, riveted, as she let her fingers coast across her collarbone and in between her full breasts. She took her time, killing him slowly but he had no power to look away when she lifted a finger to her mouth, sucked on it and then used it to slowly caress a dark, hard nipple.
“Oh, you asked for this,” he groaned, dragging her to the edge of the couch and spreading her wide with the breadth of his shoulders.
Justin locked his eyes on her face, soaking in every flutter of her lashes, every bite of her teeth into her lower lip, every moan that escaped her mouth. The first glancing touch of his fingertips against her clit had her moaning and biting her lip.
“No way,” he murmured. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you, Sarina. You’ve been haunting my dreams for weeks and now I want the real thing.”
The next pass of his fingertip against her clit had her throwing her head back, exposing her throat to him as her moan washed over his skin and carried across the treetops.
“Look at me, baby. Watch.” Justin was patient, waiting until Sarina returned her gaze to his before he lowered his head and licked her, letting her taste explode across his tongue. His mouth watered and her hips thrust upward in an invitation he fully intended to accept. Justin was going to dive in and take his fill, try to satisfy his cravings for this woman.
There was no rush. He’d cleared his calendar for the evening and he had nowhere to be, so he took his time, in spite of the voice in his head urging him to take her now, to bury himself inside her and come. Sarina hadn’t been taken care of enough in her life; she hadn’t been made a priority enough. He couldn’t give her forever but he could give her this now.
Sarina writhed against his mouth, pressed into the deep thrusts of his tongue, moaned and clutched his hair in a painful twist when he lavished her with sucking strokes of his tongue that ended circling her clit. She was wet and he was hard as a rock. Her legs shook with pleasure and her body shifted under him, her muscles taut and straining as she came against his mouth and shouted out her pleasure.
“Justin, fuck me,” she panted out between attempts to catch her breath. “Do you have protection?”
“Yes.” Justin had never been a Boy Scout but he was glad that he’d slipped a strip of condoms in his pocket before he’d come over. He hadn’t been sure that anything would happen but he’d known he was at his limit of restraint with Sarina, and he’d come prepared.
He fished them out of his pocket and ripped one off, opening the wrapper with shaking fingers. He slid the condom over his length, took himself in hand and stroked the tip of his penis against the slick flesh of her sex. Sarina gasped, arching against him and trying to press down on his cock. He let her push down and watched as he entered her body; her sweet, searing heat made his eyes cross. Then he retreated, gathering up his strength to make this last.
Justin pressed in deeper, bearing down and into her, letting gravity and desire take him to the place he’d dreamed about since that night in Vegas. Sarina wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tighter against her body, her nails scraping the flesh of his back in long, nerve-tingling strokes. He claimed her mouth in a kiss, opening her lips with his tongue and greedily taking what he wanted, what he needed. Sarina gave as good as she got, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth as she thrust up against him, driving him deeper and deeper.
Sarina clung to him, a strangled sound of protest erupting from her when he pulled back as he started a slow, deep glide in and out of her body.
“Look at us, baby.” Justin adjusted the angle to give them the perfect view of the way they moved together. He was hard and she was soft and it was agony and heaven to watch him enter and retreat, empty and fill. He needed to slow down; he needed to look away because the combination of her body and scent and the sounds of their lovemaking was driving him toward his orgasm too fast. And he wanted this to last.
But looking at her didn’t work any better. Their gazes locked. Her face flushed with her passion, lips swollen with kisses, was a whole new kind of hell, the good kind. Justin leaned down, covering her body with his as she wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind his back. The movement tensed her body and her sex clenched around him as he entered her again and again.
Seducing His Secret Wife (Mills & Boon Desire) (Redhawk Reunion, Book 2) Page 8
