by Tami Lund
He was damn proud of himself.
He ought to be.
She patted his cheek. “Not bad.”
“Liar. Tell me that wasn’t the best experience of your life.”
“I can’t.”
His grin widened.
But turnabout was fair play. She dragged her fingernails up the length of his cock, smirking as his eyes turned glassy and the grin fell from his face. She shoved her hand into his boxers and grasped him, stroking steadily until he was bucking into her hand and his breath was coming in short pants.
“Okay, okay, okay,” he said, pulling her hand away and rolling onto his back so he could dispose of the boxers. As he worked to sheath himself with a condom, she reached over and tickled the underside of his balls. He groaned before flipping over on top of her. He reached behind her back, expertly unhooking her bra and dropping it over the side of the bed before grabbing her wrists, trapping her arms above her head.
“What’s your favorite position?” he asked, rolling his hips, dragging his cock through the wetness between her thighs.
She felt her eyes widen. “I-I don’t know.”
“I guess that settles it then.”
“Settles what?”
He pumped shallowly. She was so wet he was able to slip inside her with no hands-on assistance. She lifted her hips, trying to help.
“We’re going to have to do this more than once. We’ll need to try every position until you determine you have a favorite.”
“Oh. I…um, okay.”
He reached down, grasped his cock, and—finally—guided himself to her entrance, although he kept up that shallow thrusting until she tugged her arms out of his hold and cupped his ass, pulling him more deeply inside her.
He groaned and grabbed her leg, lifting it so he could get even deeper. She threw back her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the scratch of his stubble a scant moment before his lips feathered across her collarbone, all while he continued that steady, deep thrusting that was pulling her ever closer to her second orgasm.
She still had no idea which position was her favorite, but she was already convinced sex with Marco was her favorite.
He moved to her ear, biting at the lobe, and trailed kisses across her cheek before he ravaged her mouth, one hand in her hair, the other still holding her leg. She met him thrust for thrust until she broke the kiss to cry out as she climaxed. He began moving with an almost desperate edge. His body stiffened, and warmth spread inside her, then he slowly dropped until he lay on top of her, breathing heavily, one hand now massaging her scalp while the other stroked her leg.
She lazily drew circles on his back for a few moments and then said, “I think that’s a marvelous idea.”
He lifted his head. “What is?”
“Doing that again, but in a different position.”
Chapter Eleven
Marco chuckled and rolled off the bed to dispose of the condom. “Come on, we need to eat and then get Julia.”
She slipped into the bathroom, presumably to clean herself up, and then returned to the bedroom to get dressed. He liked that she didn’t appear to be uncomfortable with her own body, especially because her ease allowed him to openly admire her as she dressed.
Although he’d wanted this to happen, had been craving the woman for years now, he honestly hadn’t had a clue what to expect when they finally did come together. If pressed, he’d probably have said he figured it would be just pleasurable sex.
He would have been wrong.
He wanted to do it again already. But for the moment, he was choosing to ignore the reality of the situation—the fact that this was all temporary—because selfishly, he simply wanted to enjoy himself for a change. He’d spent ten years as a SEAL, thinking only of whoever his commanding officer told him he should think about.
Since he’d gotten out, he’d focused on learning how to integrate back into civilian life. When his cousin Luca was in trouble, he’d focused on helping him and Nina escape from the Armenian mob. A year later, he’d helped Shannon escape. And now he was supposed to be focused on taking care of his sister.
He had a feeling that if he asked Hillary for her professional opinion, she’d tell him it wasn’t healthy to constantly focus on other people’s needs. That he needed to take care of himself too.
Well, he’d certainly taken care of himself in that bed. Okay, maybe she’d taken care of him, but the end result was that he felt better than he had in well over a decade.
So yeah, if the opportunity arose, he’d sure as hell not turn down another romp in the sack with Hillary Karney.
They ate sandwiches on the deck and then returned to school to pick up Julia. This time, they stayed in the car. Between Julia’s friends and Mrs. Morgan, their engagement was no doubt front page school gossip. Exactly what they’d intended.
While they waited in the parking lot, he asked, “Do you think Patricia would stoop so low as to kidnap Julia?”
“From what you’ve told me, it seems unlikely. She’s a by-the-book kind of person, and that’s definitely not following the rules.”
“You’re a by-the-book kind of person and look what you’re doing.”
She sighed. “I learned a long time ago that the world isn’t black and white. But some people never do. My dad was in his thirties before he figured it out. He’d been an FBI agent and then a police detective for years operating that way.”
“Your dad was an FBI agent?” He hadn’t known that. Actually, he knew precious little about the woman he’d just slept with, the woman he was pretending was his fiancée.
She nodded. “Until he married my mom and she complained about all the traveling he had to do. So he quit and came back to Sleepyville and took the job on the police force. And then she complained about his hours there, started accusing him of cheating on her, and he finally asked for a divorce.”
“That’s rough. Do you get along with both parents?”
“I do. My mom is definitely quirky, but she’s actually calmed down a lot since I moved out. Situations like my college graduation are still awkward as hell though because she resents my stepmom and my sister and brother.”
“You have a brother too?” Damn, he really didn’t know anything about her, did he?
“He’s eighteen. Just started college.”
“I take it Nina’s mom is his mom.”
“Yep.”
“And you live in a town called Sleepyville. Is that for real?”
She laughed. “It sure is. And it is exactly what you are imagining.”
“You’ve lived there your whole life?”
“Except for college, although I only went two hours away for my bachelor’s and master’s. Now I commute about an hour to the next town over, where I work for the local police force.”
He stared at her. “You’re a cop?” What the fuck?
She shook her head. “Criminologist. Basically, I analyze criminals and situations and try to figure out why people commit the crimes they do.”
“Why?”
“Because if we can figure out why someone does something wrong, maybe we can stop them—or someone else—next time.”
“No, I meant, why did you decide to go into something like that as a career? Is it because your dad is a cop?”
She tucked an errant curl behind her ear before twisting her hands in her lap and studying the scenery outside the passenger side window.
“That certainly made it easier,” she said.
Plausible, but his gut told him that wasn’t the whole story. Whatever her reasons, she didn’t want to be fully honest with him. And that irked more than he wanted to admit. She’d definitely been all in while they’d had sex—of that he was confident—but the hard truth was, he wanted her all in all the time.
He swallowed thickly, glad she was so hyper-focused on the school buildings. If she were looking at him, she’d probably be able to tell what a sap he was.
“Easy, huh?” he forced out. “So you’re sayi
ng you don’t like change?”
He glanced at her. She seemed to be contemplating him.
“I do sometimes struggle when I’m outside my comfort zone, yes.” She said it slowly, as if she was just realizing it—which he doubted—or wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit as much to him. Why was she so hesitant to be open and honest with him?
“Would you ever consider moving?” Why would he even ask that question? It was obvious she had no desire to leave the world she’d grown up in. Frankly, he didn’t blame her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Not what he was expecting her to say. And he couldn’t press because Julia opened the door, climbed into the back seat, and immediately began telling them all about her first day back to school in almost two weeks.
***
That had been an intense few minutes. Hillary hadn’t expected him to act like he was interested in her life, at least not the part that wasn’t directly associated with his cause to gain custody of his sister.
And because he’d acted so interested, she’d almost told him that she’d given her notice at her job, that she was currently unemployed, that she was no longer tied to Sleepyville.
What the hell was she thinking? Okay, yes, they’d slept together, but that didn’t mean anything, did it?
Yes, of course it did. To her. But Marco wasn’t like her. She’d bet he had at least a handful of one-night stands under his belt. Probably had no issues separating the physical and emotional aspects of sex.
Lucky him.
At least he dropped the subject when Julia hopped into the truck, and there wasn’t a chance to circle back to it again once they returned to the house.
Later that evening, Marco made dinner, then Hillary helped Julia with her homework. When his sister wasn’t looking, Marco leaned forward and kissed Hillary before whispering in her ear how eternally grateful he was, because academics weren’t his strong suit.
Her toes curled, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking if he maybe wanted to express his gratitude in a way that involved a distinct lack of clothing.
His curiosity about her life did not deter her from craving him, apparently. Not surprising, really—the idea that the man wanted more from her than just sex was infinitely appealing.
Foolish of her to think that way, yes, but she’d never claimed to be an expert when it came to interpersonal relationships with someone like Marco.
Soon enough, Julia had taken a shower and was ready for bed. Hillary and Marco were downstairs in the living room—his bedroom—alone.
“I’m not sure how to play this,” she said, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Do I ask you to spend the night with me? Or do I stay down here and watch TV with you until we start fooling around and end up spending the night crammed together on the couch?”
A laugh burst from his mouth. “So either way we end up spending the night together?”
“I mean, that’s how I see it.”
Still chuckling, he lightly smacked her ass. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll grab my toiletry kit from the hall bathroom on the way.”
She scrambled up the stairs ahead of him, pausing in the hall as he ducked into the bathroom for a moment, and then she hurried up to the third floor.
As soon as they were in her room, Marco dropped the bag he’d been holding and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her back against the wall while he plundered her mouth until she whimpered and squirmed, rubbing against his erection. They’d had sex a single time and she was already addicted. Probably not healthy, but right now, she didn’t care. She wanted more. Everything he was willing to give her.
He feathered kisses along her cheek to her ear, where he bit on the lobe gently and whispered, “I want you on top.”
She shivered. “I just want you.”
He bit again, slightly harder this time. She moaned.
“So fucking sexy,” he murmured, sliding his hands down her arms, twining their fingers, and pulling her arms up over her head and holding them there.
He slipped the other into her pants, straight down between her legs. She obligingly widened her stance, and he obligingly stroked through the wetness and heat there, making her groan again as she dropped her head against the wall and closed her eyes.
He plunged into her with two fingers, his thumb rubbing her clit, and Hillary shifted, trying to tug her wrists free, but he held tight and began moving at a faster pace until she was panting and groaning and clenching and unclenching around him, and oh God—
“Open your eyes,” he commanded, and she immediately complied. “Now come for me.”
With a gasp, her gaze locked onto his, her back bowed away from the wall, and she did exactly as he demanded.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, releasing his hold on her hands so he could wrap his arm around her waist.
Slipping his hand out of her pants, he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked off her juices. Her inner muscles clenched, instantly ready for more.
“Delicious,” he said, and then pressed his lips to hers.
She pushed on his rock hard chest and he backed up a step, his brows arching on his forehead.
“Take off your clothes,” she said, “all of them.”
His eyes widened, like he was surprised by her bossy tone, and then he stripped so fast he probably could have won a gold medal for speed.
“You too,” he said as he shoved his boxer briefs down his legs, his cock bouncing against his abdomen, thick, stiff, ready for attention.
She divested herself of her shirt and pants, and he made a circular motion with his finger, so she unhooked her bra and let it fall down her arms before pushing her panties to the floor.
His calves hit the side of the bed.
She gave his chest a push and he fell onto the comforter, then she lowered herself to her knees between his legs, watching him as he watched her lower her face and then give his erection a lick from the base to the tip.
He sucked in a strangled breath. She gently dragged her fingernails up and down the length.
He hissed, his stomach muscles rippling.
Wrapping one hand around him, she stroked while taking him into her mouth as far as she could, and then forming a suction with her lips, she began a steady rhythm. He groaned, his fingers twisting into her hair, the gentle pressure helping to control her speed, until abruptly, he pushed her away.
“Get up here,” he said, rolling onto his side to pluck a condom from the bedside table. With shaking hands, he managed to get it open and then rolled it over his girth, and then he grasped her hips, pulled her on top of him, and thrust into her.
She gasped and pressed her palms against his chest, her fingers curling against his muscles.
With his hands on her hips, he lay on his back, staring up at her face, pushing into her again and again, his breathing becoming more and more erratic. He clenched his teeth and she ground down on him until she cried out with her release.
Without missing a beat, he flipped them both so that she was on her back, and then he mindlessly pumped until his body went rigid and he climaxed.
After moving shallowly a few more times, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him, and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against the crook of her neck. He held her like that until his breathing steadied and then slowed, and she realized he’d fallen asleep.
She kissed his temple, and then closed her own eyes, savoring the absolute perfection of the moment.
And wishing it were real.
Chapter Twelve
Hillary woke before her alarm went off. She was on her stomach, one arm hanging off the side of the bed. Marco was curled into her side, his arm draped around her waist, his head resting on the pillow just above her shoulder.
Reaching up to snag her phone off the bedside table, she noted that it was almost time to get up and take Julia to school. She considered waking Marco, but he looked so damn peaceful at the moment and they had stayed up pretty late last night m
aking love…
Did she just think the words making love?
Hmm, best not to go there. She hadn’t yet had coffee, and, honestly, she wasn’t ready to pop this little bubble they’d created for themselves.
Yes, her purpose for being here in Detroit was serious. Yes, the catalyst for her ending up spending the night with Marco was all a lie. Yes, she was fully aware of Marco’s commitment issues—and she wasn’t even getting into her own issues with men.
Because if she were being honest with herself, she would admit that her own issues all centered around one man.
The one currently snuggled against her, soundly sleeping as if he had not a care in the world.
Prior to meeting him, she would have said her perfect man was a combination of her dad and Nina’s uncle Antonio. Steadfast, family-oriented, funny, with the faintest touch of danger mixed in. More of a whisper, really. Antonio hadn’t been one of the bad guys; he’d simply been born into the wrong family.
And then Marco stormed into her life with his bossiness and clipped tones, his impatience for her fears of the unknown mingled with an almost obsessive need to protect her.
And every man she’d dated in the last three years had not lived up to that new ideal that had formed in her head. Which was crazy because nothing about any of her encounters with Marco—until now—could be classified as worthy of him becoming her ideal man.
Her professional self, the one who helped a nearby police force solve difficult cases, wanted to claim she was a woman who liked to fix people. That was how she’d convinced herself to stay in the first place, after all.
But that was wrong.
She wanted Julia to be happy. She wanted Marco to be happy. Hell, she wanted herself to be happy. And at the moment, they all were.
So instead of analyzing the situation, trying to justify her actions, she ought to simply enjoy the moment. Which was something she tended to struggle with. Seemed like this was the perfect situation to practice that skill.
“You’re thinking so hard right now it’s making my brain hurt.”
