Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  “I’m going to make you so hot for me you’ll beg,” he whispered against her belly. “I’m going to make you wet and hungry. Your pussy is going to weep for my possession.” He kissed her quivering belly and used his tongue to trace her belly button. “I’m going to lap your juices and tease your clit like this.” His tongue darted inside her navel then he licked around the rim.

  His demonstration hiked her pulse rate. Excitement and anticipation warred as his hands alternatively soothed and plucked her breasts, and his mouth explored her belly button. The juncture of her thighs ached. She writhed and squirmed as her hips lifted. Liquid honey flowed from her cleft.

  Her breath caught as Nikolai moved lower, his hot breath stirring the short hair on her mound. His tongue traced the heart-shaped thatch, leaving a gleaming wet path in his wake.

  Summer’s legs splayed, and she lifted her hips shamelessly, silently begging for his intimate touch. She felt so wet. So needy.

  Nikolai parted her legs even farther, baring her to his sight.

  “You’re wet for me.” His breath washed against her swollen clit. He blew against the tiny nub, and an intense shiver racked her body. “But you haven’t begged yet. Ask, Summer. Ask me to give you pleasure. Tell me what you’d like. My mouth. My cock.” He looked up at her then, their gazes colliding. His dark eyes compelling, dominant and so heavy with heat and promise that another shudder swept her body. “Tell me you want me.”

  “Please, Nikolai. I need you inside me. Please ease the sweet ache. Nikolai. Please.”

  * * *

  She’d woken tingling, shuddering and so hot that a slow, cruising finger across her engorged clitoris had thrown her headlong into a toe-tingling orgasm. Now she craved the real thing, with the original Nikolai instead of a dream figure.

  Oh, yeah.

  Flapping a hand in front of her hot face, she shoved a returned library book from her trolley onto the shelf. But she refused to replace her well-meaning family with a bossy boyfriend. She sighed in resignation. Perhaps she’d buy a copy of the magazine with the article about sex toys. Then she could make an informed choice in the adult shop she’d seen in Papakura. Sex toys were the way to go until she met a worthy man, one that wouldn’t boss her around and lay down the law.

  “Wake up, Summer,” the head librarian snapped, appearing from behind the animal husbandry section. “You’ve shelved that book in the wrong place.”

  The thin, dark-haired woman plucked the hardcover from the section on agriculture and thrust it at her. “Find its correct home then you may leave. I trust you’ll pay more attention tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Ferguson.” Something else to blame on him. She shoved the tome on the science shelf and stomped off to grab her orange straw basket and car keys.

  She hoped this Alistair Martin was home because she wanted her books. Needed them. It was enough to drive a girl to write her own romances. In fact, she’d started composing chapter one in her head last night. The idea would’ve worked if the hero hadn’t morphed into Nikolai. Her character had appeared with a distinctive bossy streak along with a hot body. Suffice to say, her sleep had become restless.

  Summer fired up her rattle-trap car and backed from the parking space. She needed her hot and steamy romances. Fly-fishing just didn’t do it for her. After driving down Queen Street, she indicated and transferred to the lane heading for Parnell.

  “Number fifty-five, fifty-seven… A restaurant? That can’t be right.” She glanced at the card again. Definitely fifty-nine. A vacant car park decided the situation. She zipped into the space, scooped up the books and exited her vehicle.

  The restaurant was beautiful. Classy. At least to the eyes of a woman from small town Eketahuna. Her heels clicked over the mocha-colored tiles and intricate mosaic insets until she stood in a reception area. Over to her left, there was a bar area with plush chocolate carpets and built-in leather seating. Two couples sat in a booth, drinks before them, while four businessmen stood at the bar.

  A stylish woman appeared in front of her. “Hello. Table for one?”

  “Yes, please.” A drink was a good idea.

  She followed the woman to a table in an outside courtyard. Cacti and succulents in ceramic planters were arranged around the cobbled patio. Red and green umbrellas provided shade while music with a Spanish vibe gave an exotic ambience. She half expected a man in a swirling black cape with a rose clamped between his teeth to appear from next door.

  The woman seated her and produced a menu. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

  “Thanks. Actually, you might be able to help. I’m looking for a man—” She paused at the expression on the woman’s face and laughed. “That didn’t quite come out the way I meant. I mean I’m looking for a particular man. Alistair Martin. I don’t suppose you know where I could find him? I wasn’t expecting a restaurant at this number.”

  The frown on the woman’s brow cleared. “You mean Dare. You’re in luck. He’s in the office at the moment. Can I tell him your name?”

  “Summer Williams.”

  “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  A waitress took her order and reappeared with a plate of bread and dips along with Summer’s orange juice.

  While she waited for Dare Martin to appear, she amused herself people watching. A group of university students over to her right were flirting with each other. A blonde girl flicked her hair over her shoulder and smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles in her tight-fitting red top.

  Summer drew in a breath, enlightenment making her grin widen—lots of meaningful eye contact and mutual smiling happening there. So, that was what the article meant by body preening.

  “Miss Williams?”

  Summer started at the interruption. The man bore an amused yet quizzical expression on his handsome face. “Oops, caught me eavesdropping,” she said in chagrin. “Call me Summer.”

  Of course, she’d appear a fool in front of an eligible man. At least she hoped he was single because he pushed her hot buttons—an excellent distraction from the big, bad SAS man. Her gaze darted down his suit-clad body to his left hand.

  No ring.

  Of course, the lack of ring didn’t mean he was free of feminine entanglements, but it was a step in the correct direction.

  His teeth flashed, dazzling white, as he grinned. “I’m Dare Martin. May I join you?” He indicated the empty chair at her table.

  “Of course.” Her fingers rose to press the embarrassment from her cheeks. “You weren’t meant to catch me doing something so uncouth. It’s put me at a distinct disadvantage.”

  Dare’s gray eyes twinkled. “It’s refreshingly honest. I believe you wanted to see me. I hope you’re not after a job because I leave the hiring to my manager.”

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I think I have something that belongs to you.” She bent to hunt through her basket, pulled out the brown paper bag containing Dare’s books and passed it to him. “I hope you have my books. It was a huge disappointment last night when I discovered I had the wrong parcel. I don’t know how it happened.”

  Dare glanced inside the bag, a pleased expression on his face. “I think I could kiss you.”

  Summer’s gaze traveled to his lips. He didn’t mean that, did he? Because she liked the idea.

  “I rang the bookshop this morning, but they were adamant they gave me the right books.” He signaled a passing waiter and ordered a drink. “Would you like another drink?”

  Summer nodded. “Thanks. I suppose it was rather a shock to get a parcel of romances when you expected fishing books.”

  “You could say that. Look, I appreciate you taking the trouble to deliver my books in person. I’m afraid your books are at my home, and I’m busy tonight. Why don’t I deliver them to you tomorrow?”

  Another night without a decent book. She groaned in frustration. Maybe it was time to purchase an e-reader, and she’d have to think of another activity to put Nikolai from her mind, even if that meant cleaning the oven.


  “I don’t suppose you’re free tomorrow afternoon?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. “I’d like to buy you lunch to repay your kindness.”

  That should do the trick. A date to help push Nikolai out of her head. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “Of course I don’t.” His gray eyes flittered across her lips and rose to meet her gaze. “But I’d like to. How does midday sound? Actually, you’d be doing me a favor. I want to scope out a competitor, and I won’t stick out as much if I have a dining companion.”

  “You know how to turn a woman’s head.” Her stomach tingled pleasantly as his gaze drifted across her face again. It felt as if he were touching her, kissing her lips.

  Dare burst into delighted laughter. “What I meant to say was that your beauty will dazzle the waiters, and they’ll be too mesmerized to pay attention to me in spy mode.”

  “Smooth.” She flicked her French braid over her shoulder and grinned. Oh, this flirting thing was fun. “Very smooth. I’d love to have lunch with you. Where are we going?” Under the table, she crossed the fingers on her left hand, hoping he’d name a smart restaurant, somewhere to show off the brand-new outfit she’d purchased during her lunch break.

  “There’s a new restaurant opening on the banks of the Waikato River, toward Hamilton. Where do you live?”

  Yes! She just hoped there wasn’t too much silverware to bamboozle her. She made a mental note to check the etiquette books and brush up. “Not the Liberty Jones restaurant?”

  “The very same.”

  Perhaps she should see if she could book a hair appointment too. “I live in Bottle Top Bay, near Papakura, so it’s on the way. Number twenty. It’s a big white house.”

  His gaze did a final cruise of her face before he checked his watch. “I need to get a move on, but I’ll be counting the minutes until tomorrow.” Dare rose and moved around the table until he stood by her chair. He picked up her hand.

  Summer met his gaze and felt trapped like a butterfly in a web. She couldn’t have looked away if she tried. Her stomach churned in excited anticipation, much like the time she’d sat in the front car of the roller coaster waiting for the ride to start.

  Dare sobered, a flash of something indefinable flickering across his face before he bent to press his lips against the back of her hand. A quiver shot down her arm, and she bit back a sigh. Talk about romantic.

  “Until tomorrow,” he murmured.

  She nodded dumbly. “Tomorrow.”

  He released her hand with apparent unwillingness.

  “You won’t forget my books, will you?” Oh, boy. Part of her wished he’d leave before she made a fool of herself and he rescinded his invitation. The other part wanted him to stay right where he was so she could practice her flirting.

  Dare released her hand. “I won’t forget, but you won’t have much time for reading. I intend to keep you very busy.” With a quick smile, he strode off without looking back.

  Once he’d left, she gave up trying to appear poised and energetically fanned her face with the menu pinched off the next table. “Fancy that. No time for reading.” She flapped the menu with renewed vigor. “Be still my heart.”

  The last week had flown. Summer parked her car in Uncle Henry’s driveway and leaned over to grab a pile of shopping bags. Today, during her lunch hour, she had made another serious dent in her savings account.

  “Making up for lost time,” she sang, doing a little shimmy as she exited the car. As she slammed the door shut, one of the bags slithered to the concrete footpath. “Bother.”

  “Let me,” a husky voice said from behind her.

  Nikolai.

  She froze for an instant, knowing he’d come to check on her. Resentment flared, but she tamped it down. Nikolai had waved if he saw her but had kept his distance. Perhaps she shouldn’t prejudge him today since he didn’t appear to be taking the babysitting gig too seriously.

  “Thanks.” She indicated the bulging bags with a jerk of her head. “I’ve been shopping.”

  “What have you done to your hair?”

  Summer juggled her shopping parcels so she could turn to look at him. Holy cow. One look at his face and her instincts screamed danger. She swallowed but refused to look away. “I had it cut.”

  “I can see that.” He sauntered closer and picked up a lock of her hair between two fingers. He fingered the curl with care. “It’s blue.”

  “I have blue highlights.” Summer found she had to swallow again. “They go with my eyes.”

  Their gazes met and held. Summer felt the leap of her pulse and knew she had to do something before she melted at his feet.

  “You’re the babysitter, not my father.” Not that she ever in a million years imagined a parent who looked like Nikolai.

  His mouth twisted. He released her hair and stepped back. “I feel old enough to be your parent.”

  Summer let that one go, while silently reminding herself she was interested in Dare. Nothing about Nikolai attracted her in the slightest. “Did you want something? I have a date, and I’m running late.” She glanced at the oversized watch on her wrist. “Very late.”

  Nikolai retreated again, putting even more distance between them. His face had frozen, wiped of every emotion. She had no idea what he was thinking and suddenly she wanted to know.

  “Just checking to see you haven’t had any problems since the other night. Don’t let me keep you.”

  “No problems. Not one.” Summer crossed the fingers of one hand behind her back to negate the small fib. No problems that was, except the phone caller who specialized in heavy breathing. If she told Nikolai, he’d take over, and the little freedom she possessed would go poof. She heard the sound of a car approaching and wrinkled her nose. “Bother. That’s Dare now.”

  “Go and do whatever you need to do. I’ll tell the boyfriend you’re running late.”

  “Thanks.” She sprinted for the door, then came to a sudden halt and spun to glare at him. “Don’t interrogate him.”

  “I don’t have to stay. I have things to do.”

  Now she’d offended him. “Sorry. I— Never mind. Thank you. I’d appreciate you staying. Tell Dare I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  * * *

  Nikolai watched her race through the front door, not even stopping to unlock the door because she hadn’t secured it when she left this morning. A snort escaped. Naïve. Innocent. He shook his head as he caught a flash of blue right before she disappeared, and this time a smile tugged at his lips.

  Blue hair.

  She was right about one thing—it did match her eyes.

  Behind him, the car pulled up. He leaned against the fender of Summer’s battered Mazda and watched the driver climb from the late-model BMW.

  He hated him on sight.

  Dare was a city man, slick and well-groomed in his fancy duds—a suit no less, even in the humid summer weather. Nikolai scanned his worn jeans and paint-splattered T-shirt and shrugged. Why the hell was he comparing himself with the bantam rooster? His job was to keep an eye on Summer.

  That was all.

  He pushed away from the car, stood to his full height and held out his hand. “You Summer’s date?”

  The guy nodded but didn’t accept the welcome.

  “Nikolai Tarei,” Nikolai said. “Summer’s running late. She’ll be out soon.” His brows rose since the man continued to stare at his outstretched hand. Yeah, it was covered with paint, but that was because he’d been painting.

  Finally, when he was ready to give up, the suit flashed an insincere smile and accepted the greeting. “Thanks. I’m a bit early. I’m Dare Martin.”

  The suit’s hand was soft and pampered. What the hell did Summer see in him? He was pretty enough. Had a few bucks in his back pocket, if the car was any indication. But Henry wouldn’t approve, and from Summer’s mentions of her two brothers, he guessed they’d have problems with her date too.

  “You related to Summer?”

  Nikolai r
etreated to lean against the car. He folded his arms across his chest and looked him in the eye. “No.”

  “Hi, Dare! Sorry I’m so late. The meeting went late after work and the traffic at Spaghetti Junction crawled.” The nasty glare she sent him told him she’d overheard. She sauntered up to Dare and stretched up to plant a kiss on the man’s lips. Oh, yeah. Her disapproval beamed loud and clear.

  Martin’s hands curled around her waist with a possessiveness that Nikolai would need to be blind to miss. A roaring protest filled his mind, screeching for release. His hands dropped to his side and fisted.

  Son of a bitch.

  What the hell was the girl wearing? He scrutinized the long expanse of tanned leg beneath the hem of the tight black skirt, the strappy heels on her feet. Then his gaze lifted and paused to savor the two inches of creamy skin at her waist before he hit cloth again. What had happened to the baggy sack thing?

  When she turned to face him, his mouth emptied of every trace of spit. Her black top was sheer and lacy. And low. His gaze fastened on the swell of luscious curves before he had time to veto the action. She might be years younger than him, but she was fully grown. Not a shred of doubt there. He forced his gaze northward to meet the challenge in her blue eyes.

  “Ready to go, sweetheart?” Martin asked.

  Summer nodded. She allowed the clotheshorse to place his arm around her waist, his fingers to skim over her bare flesh. The hair at the back of Nikolai’s neck prickled until he felt like a Doberman guarding its territory. He wanted to rip her from Martin’s arms and attack. Summer was his and he—

  Whoa!

  His thoughts screeched to an appalled halt. Where the hell had that come from? He was useless at male-female interaction. Laura had told him often enough. Every time Laura had needed him, he’d let her down, usually because of his job, which was why he was keeping away from relationship stuff. He shook his head to clear a sluggish brain, pounding with regrets at past mistakes. Dammit, Henry shouldn’t have given him this assignment.

  Martin escorted Summer to the passenger side of his black BMW and helped her inside before closing the door. From where he stood, Nikolai got a free showing of smooth thighs and fire-engine-red panties. He’d be willing to bet Martin received the same view.