If I Love You

by Tmonique Stephens

  Noah broke their kiss but kept his lips close, close enough for her to trail her tongue across his bottom lip.

  Fuck me sideways! This PG-13 movie just became rated X.

  The scrub top came off, whipped over her head, and tossed aside. He glimpsed a white cotton bra, then it was gone. The top and bra removed by Kensley. Her breasts were more than a handful and heavy in his palms, her nipples coral in the firelight with tight little buds he wanted to suck on. Straining behind the zipper, his rock hard cock throbbed with its own heartbeat.

  Tortured by the sight of her, he groaned, “You sure about this?” Now was her chance to change her mind. After this, all bets were off.

  The lust clouding her eyes cleared, replaced by a flicker of doubt. He wanted her, more than he thought possible, but not like this. Not when she’d have nothing but regret in the morning.

  Noah forced himself to step away.

  Four

  What the hell am I doing? Clarity, she had none, but thank God he did.

  Noah scooped her top and bra from where she’d flung them and handed them over without further comment. She pressed the clothes to her chest, belatedly hiding her nudity. She had so much to say before, and now not a single thought came to mind other than run, fast and far.

  Kensley spun, and with as much dignity as she could muster, she headed for her bedroom. She closed the door carefully so that the click was nothing more than a subtle snick. Her knees threatened to buckle under the onslaught of emotions, but with moonlight illuminating the room, she managed to stumble to the bathroom and climb straight into the shower. Only then did she toss her top and bra away along with her shoes and the rest of her clothes.

  It took exactly two minutes for the water to move from freezing to hot. Two minutes where she’d usually use that time to brush her teeth, scrub her face, turn on the space heater so the room wasn’t an icebox when she exited the bathroom.

  None of that happened tonight. Tonight, she let the cold water pound into her skin, shivering until it warmed and then turned too hot to bear. Afterward, she went through the motions of washing her body and hair. The towel was rough and cool on her skin. Not as rough or as warm as Noah’s hands.

  She didn’t need that comparison, but her thoughts couldn’t be derailed by a cold or a hot shower. She finished her nighttime routine and…

  Why did I kiss him?

  What madness had consumed them that they completely forgot themselves? Correction: what madness had consumed her? If it weren’t for Noah, things would have gone off the rails. Sleeping with Noah would have been…epic.

  The word whispered through her veins, leaving heat and disgust behind. Not at him, but with herself. One second she cursed him with every fiber of her being. The next, she examined his tonsils. Classy.

  And now she hid in her bedroom like afraid of the consequences.

  “I’m not going to hide in my own damn house.” She went to the door, grabbed the knob, and froze. What would she say? What could she? Should she apologize for getting naked in front of him? A sharp bark was her version of a laugh.

  The backs of her knees hit the edge of her bed, and she dropped onto the mattress. It was then she realized she’d retreated like a cornered animal. Yet, she wasn’t afraid, not of him.

  And she wasn’t angry. Maybe tomorrow she would be. Maybe tomorrow she’d have the energy to be pissed off at the unfairness of it all, but not tonight.

  Her head landed on the pillow, and she stretched out on the bed. She wasn’t going to sleep. She just needed to rest her eyes, rest her brain. Just rest.

  But she couldn’t, not when she could still taste him. That tongue of his slid between her lips and teeth glided over the roof of her mouth, teased the back of her throat, then pulled away, leaving her trembling. It felt…good. Good to be held, kissed, to have desire pulsing through her veins. To be touched by a man and feel passion again.

  For Noah fucking Kirby.

  A bitter laugh escaped, which morphed into a broken sob. Guess she didn’t hate him anymore. Hard to hate a man you willingly stripped for and had you nearly whimpering for more of his touch, his kiss.

  Hard to hate Noah Kirby at all.

  ✽✽✽

  Kensley lurched upright, completely awake. Her gaze darted to her alarm clock. Eleven fifty-nine. Power was back on. Other than the subtle drone of the space heater, the house was quiet. So damn quiet. She was alone and should be grateful. Her tongue was dry and thick, her throat rough. The room was hot. The timer and setting must be off due to the power outage, and now she felt like beef jerky. She had a gallon of water in the refrigerator and knew she could down every ounce.

  She swung her legs over and slipped on her slippers and robe. The second she opened the door, cold air would rush in. She belted the robe and braced. Lukewarm air surrounded her. At least the heat was on.

  She stretched and shuffled down the hallway. A glow came from the living room. Damn, the fireplace. The least he could’ve done was take care of the fireplace before he left.

  Except…he hadn’t left.

  Noah’s big body was stretched out on her sofa, his legs hanging over the arm. Why did he stay? He should’ve been long gone, yet he wasn’t. She should be angry, demanding he leave. Yet, she wasn’t. He mumbled something. His body jerked, and his head snapped left, then right. “Get Down,” he hissed as if in agony. She moved closer to help. Not that she had any idea what to do. Treating PTSD was not in her wheelhouse.

  Sweat dotted his brow, and his face was contorted in pain or was that sorrow. She wasn’t sure, didn’t know him that well. Either way, she reached out to touch him, wake him from his nightmare.

  “Kevin.” The name hung in the air between them. And now she knew. It was sorrow. He hurt, and she hurt with him.

  Suddenly, his gaze locked onto her. He sat up. Confusion fogged his eyes, then cleared like curtains lifting. He saw her, and warmth transformed his features. Her stomach fluttered. It was too much to deal with right now.

  Kensley veered into the kitchen. A clean glass from the cupboard and a gallon of water from the refrigerator. She filled the glass and drained it in one long swallow.

  “I have water, orange juice, and beer.”

  He thought for a moment. “Water.”

  She retrieved another glass and filled it. A few short steps brought her to his side. She passed the glass to him and sat on the coffee table directly in front of him. They watched each other, silently observing each blink. He’d answered her questions, the pertinent ones, yet she was unsatisfied in so many ways. Ways she refused to address, but that wasn’t what this was about. She knew how Kevin died, but how did he live.

  Her gaze shifted to the pictures on the mantle. Those were all she had of him, memories, and they weren’t enough. “Tell me about him.”

  Confusion swept over Noah’s features. “Umm, what do you want to know?”

  He didn’t understand, and that was okay.

  “I knew the boy who went into the military. You knew the man.” She sniffed and fought back the tears. “Tell me about the man my brother became.”

  Five

  What could Noah tell her? There was so much. Kevin was the little brother to the team. The jokester. He found humor in everything. Never serious. Always laughing.

  “Milk told the filthiest jokes.” Her eyes widened. Maybe that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was the truth.

  “I got the stupid jokes.” She chuckled.

  “We called him Milk ’cause he was too young to drink until we deployed overseas. He was a good soldier, not at first. A little too eager. He tried too hard, which was better than being a lazy asshole.”

  “That was my brother, the overachiever. His heart was always in the right place.”

  A sad smile crossed Noah’s face. “He was a quick learner. Always took the newbies under his wing. Any mission, he was the first one out the door and the last one off the transport when we returned. He was someone we counted on, and he never disap
pointed.”

  She sniffed. “He was different fresh out of boot camp. Mature. The military changed him for the better. He made us proud.” Her voice and heart broke all over again. “Very proud.”

  He took her hand in his. It was the only thing he could do though he wanted more. He wanted her.

  Her voice cracked. “It was too soon. He left me too soon.”

  “He did.” He rubbed his thumbs across the backs of her hands. The words just fell out of his mouth. “Kevin… I can never repay him for all he’s done.” Tears coursed down her cheeks, and he couldn’t take it anymore. “The bullet he took…it was meant for me. I owe him my life.”

  A shudder ran through her entire body. Her hands squeezed his in a fierce grip. “Tell me,” she choked.

  “Not much to tell.” Suddenly he was back in that broken village, trudging through rubble to a building on the outskirts of the twin square. Someone shouted sniper. He spun, raised his weapon. Kevin already had his locked on a target. He shoved Noah out of the way as a single shot echoed through the night. Blood and brains splattered all over Noah as he caught Kevin’s body. He was dead before Noah lowered him to the ground.

  He hung his head, realizing he’d put into words everything that had replayed in his mind.

  Her breath hitched, and she scrubbed the back of her hand across her cheeks. “He saved you for a reason. I have to believe it. Your life is a gift.”

  His head rose because he didn’t understand. He expected her hate and received a smile. Through the tears and the pain, she gifted him with bravery and forgiveness.

  They reached for each other at the same time. Two people lost in grief. Two people clinging to each other, sharing pain neither could carry alone. He held her, cradled her in his lap, and she let him. Eventually, her tears ebbed, yet she stayed, her head buried in his chest, her arms, one around his neck, the other, his waist.

  She touched the tear-soaked spots on his sweater. “I’ve made a mess.” Yet she didn’t move, and he didn’t want her to.

  “I don’t care.” He smoothed back her hair from her damp cheeks. “You’re a mess. I’m a mess… Let’s be a mess together.”

  What kind of romantic drivel, but then her head tipped back, and he stared into her watery sea-green eyes and lost himself.

  He met her halfway simply to brush his lips across her soft, perfect mouth. She opened for him, let him inside her moist heat. Her velvet tongue stroked his, a sultry duel played out time and again between lovers.

  Her hand slipped beneath his sweater, smoothed over his abs, glided up to his pecs, and over his nipples. When his sweater bunched, halting her process, he raised his arm, broke contact with her sweet mouth, and yanked it off.

  He didn’t wait for an invitation to do the same to her top. The invitation was in her eyes, in her hands touching his body, her nails scraping his skin, the hitch of her raspy breath.

  Noah went further and shoved her sweatpants and panties off her hips and down her long legs. Hands braced on his shoulders, she freed herself from the tangle around her ankles.

  He knew she’d be like this: pale skin, full breasts topped with tight nipples, curves for miles…and a blonde landing strip between her thighs.

  Utterly, breathtaking. So beautiful all he could do was stare. Until she grabbed his hand and brought it to her slick folds.

  He groaned, and his fingers slid between her softness and went straight to her core.

  “Yes,” she hissed, her hips bucking. She whimpered when he removed his finger from her wet, tight passage, then gasped when he brought that finger to her clit.

  “I knew you’d be like this,” he growled.

  She stilled. “Like what?”

  He peered into her eyes and whispered, “Perfect.”

  Firelight danced in her eyes, and the corner of her mouth curled in a sultry grin. “Yeah?” she breathed.

  He let his finger do the talking, dragging it across her clit. He still had a thread of self-control, even as a thread of guilt whispered, This is a bad idea until her lips parted and her tongue swept her bottom lip while her eyes glazed and she mouthed, Please.

  His restraint disintegrated. He pumped his fingers into Kensley’s heat. Her tender folds were soaked with her arousal. Her hips bucked, she rode his digits, her moans delightful.

  Engrossed in her pleasure, he barely realized Kensley was making short work of his buckle and zipper. In no time, her hand wrapped around his hard cock. He gasped from her cold fingers and the sharp bit of arousal. Either way, he didn’t say a word as she roughly stroked his length. It felt too damn good.

  Noah slipped his fingers out of her soaked pussy and swung her into his arms to drop her onto the sofa.

  “Hey, she grumbled, eagerness glowing in her eyes.

  As fast as he could, he kicked off his boots and stripped his jeans off.

  ✽✽✽

  Noah Kirby naked.

  Her gaze bounced from his muscular chest and six-pack abs, narrowing down to that vee that drove women crazy, to frankly, his impressive cock. It was thick and long and erect.

  And needed to be inside her. Right. Now.

  A square foil package caught her eyes. From somewhere, he’d retrieved a condom, something she should’ve thought about, but hadn’t in the heat of the moment. He made her this way, out of control, wild. Something she should be terrified about yet wasn’t. No red alarms. No internal warnings.

  She watched him tear it open and sheath himself in latex. Then he was on top of her, skin to skin. She had a second to absorb the feel of him, the press of his chest flattening her breasts, his lean hips between her spread thighs, the masculine scent clinging to his skin. The head of his cock brushed her core… and he was inside of her, stretching, filling. She gasped. He was thick, so thick.

  “Oh, damn.” She arched her pelvis and spread wider. He rocked into her with short, hard strokes that had her frenzied, her hips surging off the sofa to meet each thrust. “Deeper. I need deeper,” she groaned.

  A rough hand gripped her hip, pinned her while his other hand fisted her hair. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to as he pushed into her, hard. She dug her nails into his arms, shoulders, back, and moaned as he bottomed out deep within her core.

  “Yes,” she hissed at the wounding fullness.

  He kissed her. Their tongues twined, giving and taking pleasure in the slip and slide. Mouth and pussy filled, she let the pleasure carry her, guide her to the promised land.

  Her legs locked around his waist, intent on that singular purpose. His hand left her hip to hook her leg and change his angle. Holy! He pumped into her, slamming deep each time. Eric had never fucked her like this, no one had. Never had it been this raw, this wild. She bucked, ripped her mouth away, and demanded, “More. Give me more.”

  He rose over her, sat back, and dragged her to him. Still joined, he lifted her hips and slowed. His thrust now deliberate, he trailed one hand from her hip across her lower abdomen to the top of her sex. Across the length of her straining body, she met his gaze. His chestnut-colored eyes were dark, passion glazed, his face tight from lust. He was stunning as he slid out of her body and slammed back in. From the tips of her nipples and deep in her pussy pleasure coiled, the outcome inevitable. Her entire body flushed as all of her became hypersensitive. She held out, pushed the pleasure to the back of her mind because she wanted more.

  His right hand skimmed her skin as it moved from her hip to where they were joined. A single flick of his thumb over her clit and sensation exploded between her legs. She drowned in pleasure, wave after wave raked her senses from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Her hips bucked as she writhed, helpless, and lost to the pleasure.

  “Aw, fuck baby. That’s right. Let go.” He dropped her back to the sofa and fucked her into the cushions. Arms and legs banded around him, she rode out her orgasm, until he captured both her hands and stretched them over her head.

  One hand circled both her wrists, while his other pinned one leg t
o the bed, changing the angle, deepening his penetration.

  His head dipped to her nipple, and he sucked on the hard tip. With long strokes that brought him to the brink of leaving her body, he pounded into her. Another sharp edge of pleasure ripped through her core. She cried out, couldn’t contain it. As the world unraveled again, he was the only thing she could hold onto.

  “Kensley,” he groaned and kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She was lost, submerged in sensory overload. Lost to everything except him, and their merging bodies. It was torture and bliss all wrapped into one.

  Noah’s entire body went taut. He slammed into her and stayed, ground the base of his cock against her clit. His head kicked back, and a sound rumbled through him. He swelled within her, his cock twitching, and though the condom prevented it, she imagined him spilling into her as his hips jerked, and his body shuddered.

  He released her, and she wrapped herself around him, brought his head to hers, and kissed him. Slowly, sweetly, she poured her heart into silent words only she could hear. Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t let them fall. Big girls don’t cry, especially after mind-blowing sex with the man that got your brother killed.

  Six

  Kensley woke slowly, awareness came to her in increments. First, her hearing. The room was quiet, the house still. The quiet spread to outside of the house. Too quiet for a Saturday morning. She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot, but her bed felt strange, and her body ached, especially between her legs.

  The night rushed back in a series of images that had her lurching off the sofa.

  Noah was gone. She knew it by the absolute silence permeating the house. He was kind enough to cover her naked body with a blanket, but not another log on the fire which had burned down to embers? The compressor in the refrigerator kicked in with a hum. She had power. She wrapped the blanket around her and shuffled to the thermostat. Fifty degrees and warming. She peered out of her living room windows at the winter wonderland displayed in all its stark glory. Snow, snow, and more snow.