by Laura Kaye
She hated for him to see her cry. She’d done it enough in front of him lately. Her forehead dropped back to her knees. A movement of cooler air told her the shower curtain had parted.
“Oh, sweetheart.” The warmth of his body surrounded her and blocked the water from stinging her skin. “I know. I’ve got you.” He reached back and turned off the nozzle, then stripped off his drenched shirt, dropping it to the shower floor with a wet slap.
Taking a deep breath, Alyssa propped her chin on her knees and looked at him.
The lean muscles all along his side popped as he reached to the bar and retrieved a thick towel. He wrapped it around her shoulders and used the end to gently dry her face. The whole time, he watched her with an expression full of compassion and tenderness. God, he was so beautiful.
“Come on,” he whispered. He picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. Oh, his warmth and his strength seeped into her, setting off a craving for more. More of his touch, more of his skin, more of him. Ignoring that both of them were dripping wet, Marco carried her into his bedroom and set her on the edge of the bed. He reached away long enough to click on the bedside lamp, then returned to her, holding and stroking her, making her incredibly aware of her nudity under the towel.
She looked up at him, her heart swelling with every heightened emotion she felt—and most of all for him. His eyes blazed and his lips parted.
Alyssa’s emotions lurched in a new direction, one full of heat and need and desire. She slid off the bed to stand, forcing him back a half step. The towel dropped to the bed behind her.
She settled her palms on his chest and he sucked in a breath, his muscles going rigid beneath her touch. His reaction fueled her to take another step. Leaning forward, she pressed a long openmouthed kiss over his heart. He didn’t push her away. He didn’t tell her no. She kissed him again and again. Until her lips came down soft and wet around his nipple.
“Damn,” he rasped, gripping her back and stroking her hair.
Her hands explored his ribs, the hard planes of his abdomen, and found the line of black curls that ran downward. Alyssa’s heart lodged in her throat. She tilted her head back to tell him what she wanted—no, needed—but she never got the chance.
Marco buried his hands in her wet hair and claimed her lips. For a few long seconds, the kiss tasted of compassion, tenderness, and forgiveness. And then something snapped in both of them, as if they were of one mind, and the kisses, the touches, the sounds they made became more needful, more demanding, more urgent.
Marco crushed his arms around her, drawing her up close so that their bodies touched from thighs to chests. His kisses traveled in a worshipful, purposeful line from her lips to her jaw to her ear. “So much to say,” he breathed.
“I know,” she said in a low voice as she tilted her neck to allow his exploration. “We will. Just not right now.”
He pulled back to look in her eyes. “But I want you to know—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips, needing to revel in his touch. All the reasons this wouldn’t work could wait until morning. “Words later. I just want to feel you. On me, in me. Please, Marco? I need you so much.”
Chapter Fourteen
Marco stared at her for a long moment, a war of emotions playing out across his beautiful face. And then he was kissing her, holding her, stroking her bare skin. Alyssa’s head spun at the incredible goodness of his touch and she slammed down hard on any warning thoughts that tried to intrude on the moment.
“Are you sure?” he asked around the edge of a kiss. “After everything that happened?”
She reached up and dragged her fingers through his damp hair once, twice. “Yes,” she said simply.
The intensity of his gaze made her skin tingle in anticipation of his decision. He didn’t make her wait long. Hands on her ribs, just brushing the curve of her breasts, Marco lifted her onto the bed. She scooted back as he climbed up, her heart beating so fast and so hard he must’ve heard it.
Alyssa could’ve watched the movement of Marco’s body all night, and she made an effort to memorize the way he looked crawling toward her, over her. She lay back and Marco held his weight just above her, his mouth claiming hers again and again.
More.
She wrapped her arms around his big shoulders and urged him down. When he gave in to her demand, she parted her legs and made room for his lean hips in the cradle of her thighs. His body came down on hers, pulling a moan from deep in her chest. His weight, his heat, his hard, cut musculature—he felt like everything she’d ever needed or wanted. In that instant, she knew she’d never tire of holding him in her arms, feeling his body cover hers.
His mouth traveled to her neck as his big hand caressed over her shoulder and found her breast. She arched into his touch and he alternated soft massages with dragging fingers that had her nearly begging for…she didn’t know what. More. Everything.
He moved down her body until his mouth found her nipple. He kissed and licked, worshipping one breast then the other. When he sucked her nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, Alyssa’s whole body came up off the bed.
His eyes flashed to hers and he pushed up, his lips crushing to hers again. “My Aly,” he said around the edge of the kiss. “So sweet and so beautiful.”
The words combined with her desire to create a potent elixir that left her head spinning until the only thing she knew was him. She slid her fingers into his soft hair and grasped short handfuls of it to bring him closer. He obliged for a long moment, letting her feel the thick ridge of his denim-covered erection between her legs, before working down her body again, this time moving past her breasts until his tongue was drawing wet patterns on her stomach, her hip bones.
She traced his shoulders and his neck, her hands dying to explore him. “Marco,” she breathed.
When he looked at her, she could’ve sworn she saw the same urgent need she felt reflected there. He reached behind him, tugged open the nightstand drawer, and tossed a packet on the bed.
Alyssa sat up and grasped the waist of his jeans with two fingers. She pulled him to her and opened the button and zipper, her eyes on his the whole time. Marco leaned in and kissed her softly. She wrapped her hand around his hard length and he groaned deep in his throat. Alyssa’s heart thundered and her breath caught, both at the sound of his pleasure and the incredible realization that this was really happening.
Her love for him swelled in her chest until it was hard to breathe. Of course it would hurt like hell if this were all she ever had of him, but already she knew she could never regret it. One night of her dreams coming true was better than none at all.
Marco’s fingers caressed her stomach and slid into the curls between her legs. Alyssa gasped, her head falling back as he stroked at the wetness there.
“Damn, Aly,” he rasped, his lips tracing down the column of her throat. He slipped the tip of a finger inside her.
Alyssa moaned and lifted her hips, encouraging him to give her more, to give her everything he could.
Marco pulled away. Fabric rustled and fell to the floor. With no apologies, she drank in the sight of his body: his broad shoulders, his scars, the hard-cut veins on his biceps, the taut plane of his abdomen—the long, thick evidence of his desire for her.
Alyssa’s pulse quickened as he climbed on the bed.
“Here.” He yanked the covers down and guided her to lay with her head on a pillow. He sprawled his delicious weight on top of her again and devoured her with a kiss that had her body undulating beneath his. His hands grasped her face and the look he gave her was raw, hot need. “I want this, Alyssa. So damn much.” He shook his head, seemingly struggling for words.
“I have always wanted you,” she said, the fullness of her heart demanding this bravery even as she feared the heartbreak sure to come. She reached out, grasped the condom, and handed it to him.
He licked his lips and tore it open. Sitting back on his knees, he rolled it on. Alyssa couldn’t not w
atch him, even though she flushed.
When he returned to her, his shaft pressed so close to where she needed him that she gasped. Heat roared through her veins. Grabbing his shoulders, she shifted her body under his, seeking, needing.
He stroked her face. “Slow down, Aly. I don’t want to…” He kissed her. “I have to ask.” His eyes narrowed and an unnamed emotion flickered behind his gaze. “Have you done this before?”
Alyssa’s stomach flip-flopped. She cupped her hand around his cheek and nodded. “I had one serious boyfriend in college. Sophomore year.” But you’re the only man I’ve ever loved. She held in that last thought, not wanting anything to ruin the moment between them.
“Okay,” he whispered. He kissed her and reached between them. And then he was pushing into her, filling her. Alyssa moaned, the incredible physical sensations and overwhelming emotional intensity bringing every nerve ending to life and setting her body on fire.
Marco clamped down hard on the part of his psyche that demanded he seek out more, ever more, of the incredible pleasure Alyssa’s body brought. He didn’t want to rush through this. He didn’t want it to end. So he forced himself to go slowly, to savor, to imprint every detail to memory.
And damn if Alyssa didn’t feel like sweet perfection. She was silky soft everywhere he was hard, and as he moved in her, the most amazing sensations settled over him. Unconditional acceptance and belonging. Alyssa had always given him those, but when he’d been younger, he hadn’t known just how much they meant. Now, the soothing balm of her love surrounded his body, poured out of her gaze, stroked him with every touch, and gave him the soul-deep knowledge he was right where he was supposed to be.
Her breathy gasps and small moans filled the room as he flexed his hips, filling and retreating in a gentle, steady rhythm that set off a slow burn deep in his gut. He pushed onto his elbows, wanting to see her face as they made love. She was so open and expressive, and she wore every ounce of pleasure on her face. And her pleasure fueled his. He gave her a small smile, words that needed to be spoken on the tip of his tongue. She smiled back. Marco’s heart swelled and the ache he carried inside eased, just the smallest bit. It was everything.
Fingers dug into his ribs, urging him on. Marco kissed her and moved just a little harder, a little faster. If he let himself go the way his body commanded, this moment—the most amazing and fulfilling of his life—would end long before he was ready to let her go.
Maybe he never had to. Maybe this was just the beginning. His heart swelled as a future he never imagined himself worthy of suddenly rolled out in front of him.
“Marco,” she said, her voice high and soft.
“How does this feel?”
“So good,” she whispered. “There aren’t words.”
Marco couldn’t have agreed more, but the desperation in her voice shoved his body hard. Urgent need barreled through his veins, made demands he wasn’t going to be able to hold off from meeting.
He shifted, curling his hips to stimulate her, and her answering moan felt like victory. Watching her face, he moved, repeating those things that elicited the most pleasured sounds or expressions. Soon she was panting and holding her breath in turns, a red-hot pleading filling her eyes.
He moved harder. Faster. All the while watching her and ignoring the insistent pressure filling his own body.
Her mouth dropped open and her head tilted back into the pillow. She tightened around him.
“Yes. Oh, God.”
The orgasm hit her and Marco grunted in deep satisfaction at the abandon with which she gave over to her release. A plaintive cry worked out of her throat. Her nails dug into his ass. Her hips lifted and pushed against him. Perfection.
And too much to resist. In three quick strokes, Marco exploded, his muscles going rigid even as he still moved within her slick heat.
He’d had his share of women, but not once had his heart ached and throat tightened with the desperate need to cry out the emotions he possessed for the woman he loved. Never before had he been in love. Now that he was, now that he’d found the real deal with Alyssa, sex became a whole-body experience that left him sated, exhausted, and wanting all at once.
Marco kissed Alyssa as his body calmed, but his heart raced between them. She stroked his hair, her touch and eyes so full of tenderness. He looked at her for a long moment and had so much to say, he couldn’t say anything at all.
Jesus, he was a tongue-tied mess.
Aly’s gaze dropped to his shoulder. Her fingers traced the scar from the bullet wound. Marco willed her to look at him, but she didn’t. He frowned and observed her with new eyes. Absolutely beautiful? Beyond question. But that didn’t negate the dark circles under her eyes. He pulled her hand away and examined it. Finger-shaped bruises wrapped around her wrist.
“Dammit,” he bit out, easing himself from her.
She flinched, her gaze flying to his. “What?”
He glanced down at her wrist. “You went through a lot tonight, Aly. I shouldn’t—”
Her heart squeezed. “Please don’t finish that sentence. I wanted this, Marco. I needed it. I thought you did, too.” She couldn’t handle him expressing any kind of regret. Not right now. She knew well enough to know the incredible intensity of the night’s events had brought them together, and that the light of morning would likely change everything. But she was holding tight to every moment she had until then.
He kissed her. “Yes, I did. Don’t doubt that. I just can’t turn off the need to take care of you.” He shrugged one big shoulder.
She stroked his hair, loving the soft silkiness of it. Such a surprise when so much about him was hard edges and sharp angles. “I have always loved that about you, Marco. But I can take care of myself. I chose this. Please don’t take that away from me.”
“About that.” He twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. “What I said to you. I was so out of line. And wrong. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He shook his head. “You’re one of my oldest friends. And treating you that way, talking to you like I did, it’s been killing me ever since.”
She pretended like the friend comment didn’t slice right through her. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry I invaded your privacy.”
“No. You didn’t. Friends take care of each other. I just…” He dropped the condom into a wastebasket beside the bed, then returned to her side, his head propped up on an elbow, his left hand drawing lazy patterns on her stomach. The unthinking caresses made it easier to tolerate the absence of his warm weight. “I’m… Shit, Aly, I’m not the man I used to be. I’m a fucking mess now, to be honest. And I just didn’t want you to know.”
She turned into him, sliding her knee between his. “Do you really think I don’t know something happened to you? I’ve known you forever, Marco. I can see it in your eyes. I can hear it in your voice. It emanates from you like a scent. I wanted to shoulder some of that for you, the way you’ve always done for me.” She placed her hand on his chest, the rhythm of his heart playing against her palm.
Raw sadness shone from his blue eyes. “I don’t like you hurting yourself for me.”
“I don’t like you hurting at all.” She kissed him, deep satisfaction rolling through her when he hugged her in tighter. She took a chance and asked, “Will you tell me what happened?”
Shadows flickered behind his eyes and his expression shifted. She was certain she’d pushed too far and that she’d see the shutters come slamming down again.
He lifted a hand and smoothed back the side of her hair. For a long moment, he was quiet and distant, then he fingered her earlobe, his thumb gently turning the small earring she wore, the diamond studs he’d given her for high school graduation. “I love that you still wear these.” He released a tired-sounding breath and met her gaze. “Long story short?”
Hope flared within. “Okay.”
“I recommended my team act on some intelligence I’d spent months gathering. It turned out to be bad information, a setup. Three of our
men died, and I got this”—he held up his arm—“and a brain that doesn’t work like it used to. Brady is the only reason I’m here today. He saw the trip wire a second before the lead guy set off the bomb and pulled me out of the doorway. Well, mostly.” His arm wrapped around her again and his gaze dropped to the sliver of sheet between them. “The loss of those men’s lives will forever lay at my feet. Which makes it fitting justice that my disabilities disqualified me from further service, from the only thing I ever wanted to do.”
Grief and sympathy filled her chest, but also gratitude to him for sharing and to Brady for saving him. She snuggled into him until they were nearly nose-to-nose. “You didn’t kill those men. The terrorists did. Your teammates knew how dangerous it was, just like you and Brady did.”
He shook his head, his eyes going hard. “It was my—”
She pressed her lips to his, cutting off his protest. “If the situation were reversed, if your injury stemmed from one of them getting intelligence that turned out to be wrong—would you blame that person? Would you want him to blame himself?”
Marco’s lips twisted and he stared at her. Finally, he heaved a sigh.
“You wouldn’t,” she said. “Because you’d understand. It wouldn’t have been his fault. And it wasn’t yours.”
He remained quiet for several moments, and then his expression softened. “I’m not there yet.”
“You don’t have to be. You’ll get there when you’re ready to get there. In the meantime, never think you have to hide yourself from me. Boxing up the bad parts doesn’t make them go away; it just makes them hurt worse.” She would know. “I’m your friend”—true as it was, the word stuck in her throat—“and I’ll always accept all of you.”
His eyes bored into hers as if evaluating her sincerity. “Don’t you think less of me?”
Alyssa sucked in a breath. She pushed up into a sitting position and leaned over him, forcing him onto his back. She rested a hand over his heart. “You risked your life for this country every day for four years. There’s no telling how many bad situations you helped thwart. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you, Marco. Nothing ever could.”
