Can't Resist Him

by Molly McLain

  “I have PTSD and, according to the Corps, I’m too fucked in the head to be of any use to them. Not now, maybe not ever again. But you...” His eyes snapped open and the look of complete absolution on her face shook him to the core. “You make me feel like I’m needed. Like I’ve still got something to give and something to fight for, too.”

  “You do,” she whispered, a silent tear falling down her cheek as she offered all her comfort to him. “God, Brody, you do.”

  He nodded. “I believe it when you say it.”

  “Then I’ll keep saying it. Over and over again, as often as you need to hear it.”

  A moment of clarity broke through the perpetual fog in his head and he dropped his forehead down to hers. “That’s what I’m counting on, sugar.”

  ***

  With her back to his chest, Jenny closed her eyes and let his voice and the soft massaging jets seduce her muscles and her mind into long-overdue relaxation. Even Brody, who’d started at the very beginning of the story he’d kept trapped inside for the past year, seemed more at ease than she’d ever seen him, despite the painful memories he shared.

  “I didn’t even know my leg had been burned until we loaded up into the helo and the medics started cutting away my pants. In hindsight, I remember the blast rocking our ride, but what happened between then and me getting Ernie to shelter is gone.”

  “You were in shock, but instinct kicked in and you did what you knew you had to do.” She smoothed a handful of water over his knee, tracing her fingertip over a raised scar. Not as angry looking as the ones on his thigh, but not pretty either.

  “That’s from my first tour. Good ol’ barbed wire fencing,” he chuckled softly.

  “Do you have more?” She wanted to know his entire story. Every little intricacy that made him this man with her right now. The one, who from the very start, had given her more of himself than he even realized he had to give. The man who still worried that he wasn’t enough.

  “Yeah, but they’re nothing, you know? I’m intact. I’ve got all my limbs and everything works just fine. I see guys wearing prosthetics left and right and I feel guilty as fuck for that, too.” He shifted uncomfortably behind her and she turned just enough to see his face.

  “Just because we can’t see your biggest wound doesn’t mean it’s any less important. Or any less heroic.”

  “Don’t say that. Christ, just...don’t.” He swiped at his face with a wet hand and droplets of water clung to his lower lip. So she turned, and leaning in on her knees, licked it away.

  “Say what, Superman? That you’re a hero?” she breathed against his mouth. “That you’re not one of the most incredible freakin’ human beings I’ve ever met?” Another kiss, this one a little harder, more insistent than the last since Brody’s walls stayed firmly in place, his eyes open and his lips barely participating.

  “I have worse nightmares now than I did as a kid. For all I sweat during the damn things, I might as well piss the bed, too. That ain’t exactly commendable shit.”

  “We didn’t need new sheets in Vegas.” She brushed her lips along his jaw and then down the thick cord on the side of his neck, refusing to be deterred.

  “That’s because you were there,” he rasped, and the vibration of his words tickled her tongue. Goosebumps spread along her bare skin like a slow-burning fire.

  “Ah, so having someone in bed with you...that helps?” She didn’t want to think about him with another woman—or women, for that matter—but this was about him right now, not her.

  “That’s just it...” One of his hands coasted up her back, the callouses on his fingers scraping gently over her vertebrae until he reached the hooks of her bra. Then his touch reversed, trailing all the way down to the band of her panties. “It’s you, Jenn. Only you.”

  “Me?” She lifted her head, eyes wide.

  He nodded. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “How do you know that? We’ve only slept in the same bed that one time.”

  He lifted a shoulder and slid a hand under her ass, pulling her into his lap. “Best sleep I’ve had in months. Talking to you before bed helps, too. Not always, but I can usually get a few uninterrupted hours.”

  “But...” Why hadn’t he told her this before? “We don’t talk all the time. In fact, we hardly even texted this week.” He’d been busy with work and she’d tried not to come off as too needy.

  “I know.” He brushed the damp hair away from her face. “I didn’t figure it was fair to use you like my own personal dose of Ambien without you knowing. I wanted to tell you before it happened again and then you showed up today.”

  Wow. “I’m not sure what to say. I mean...” Part of her loved that she could help him that way and another part of her worried that maybe he was just—

  “No,” he said quickly, answering her unfinished thought. He folded his arm around her lower back, anchoring her in place, with her thighs hugged against his hips, warm water pulsing against their skin.

  “Dammit, Jenn, that’s not why I want to be with you. It isn’t even part of the reason, though you’ve gotta admit—it’s damn coincidental that the one girl I can’t stop thinking about also happens to be the only person who’s been able to calm all this crazy shit in my head.”

  When he tipped her chin so he could see her face, she closed her eyes, shuttering out all the confusion and, God help her, hope still rolling around in her head. He wanted to be with her. To hear him say those words with such conviction...

  “I found out I’d been grounded right before Christmas, and the only people who know why are the guys in my battalion and my friggin’ shrink. I haven’t even told my parents.” He sighed and his breath feathered against her face, making her shiver. “Please look at me,” he pleaded, his voice gentle. “I need to see your eyes.”

  A complete sucker for this man, she slowly gave him what he wanted and he let out a shuddered exhale, his arms tightening around her in a shaky embrace. God, he was handsome.

  “That. That right there is why I can’t get you out of my head.” He pulled her head down to his, the tip of his nose brushing against hers as he peppered kisses over her mouth and along her cheekbone. “You know the truth and you don’t look at me any differently than you did that first night.”

  “Why would I?” she whispered.

  “The same reason you worry I might only use you,” he countered, a small laugh rumbling in his throat. “It’s what we know, babe. It’s what we’ve come to expect, even from people we thought cared about us.”

  “But you’re the same man here.” Fingers spread wide, she dragged them over his heart.

  “I’m not sure that’s true, but with you I want to try and be that guy again.”

  And he made her want to take a leap she swore she wouldn’t. If they could share this kind of surreal intimacy with nothing more than words, what kind of physical connection would they have?

  She kept her eyes glued on his, reached around her back and, one hook at a time, unfastened her bra.

  His gaze darkened and his nostrils began to flare with every breath he took. “What are you doing, sugar?”

  “You’ve trusted me with all the deepest parts of you, now I want to do the same.”

  “Jenny...” His tone was all protest and warning, but the eager way his hands squeezed her ass beneath the water, paired with his eyes locked on the skin she revealed told a different story.

  “Are you saying you don’t want me?” she teased, rolling one shoulder so the strap fell.

  “Oh, I want you,” he growled like a caged animal.

  “Then have me.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The man was the freaking devil with his mouth.

  The sweet swirl of Brody’s tongue around one pebbled nipple while he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger turned Jenny’s brain to mush in seconds. Dropping her head back, all she could do was hold on tight and turn herself over to his ministrations, letting him build the fire tha
t flamed at her core with every hungry pluck of her flesh.

  Back and forth he went, lips and hands driving her completely mad with desire until that invisible cord wound so tight in her belly, she shook with need. Between her legs, his thick erection pressed into her softness and she let go of any pretense of acting like a proper lady—she rubbed against him like the shameless, sex-deprived vamp she really was.

  “Slow down, sugar.” Her wet, strawberry-red peak popping from between his lips as he smiled. “We’ve got all night.”

  “I just...I need this.” And it had nothing to do with the actual getting off part, because she was damn good at that all on her own. She’d even done it two weeks ago after he’d whispered dirty words in her ear on her front porch. She’d flown higher and harder than she had in months.

  What she needed now was that deeper, more intimate connection that only being with this man could give her. She didn’t understand the pull or why it was so damn intense with Brody, but he’d just laid himself bare before her and, God help her, she wanted more. She wanted everything.

  She slipped her hands beneath the water and smoothed them down his hard, bunched abs, loving how the muscles jumped and tensed against her touch. The wide head of his shaft stretched the soaked cotton of his underwear to the point that one brush of her fingers set him free to her touch. One fingertip toyed with the ball at the end of his piercing and she shivered. How would that smooth steel feel against her tongue? Inside her?

  He let her play with the jewelry and every solid, silky inch of him that followed while he laid wet kisses along her collarbone and thumbed gently at one nipple. “Is that what you need?” he rasped.

  She nodded. “I think you need it, too.”

  His stormy gaze drifted up to hers again as she wrapped her hand around his erection, her fingers not close to touching, and stroked him. “I’m afraid what I need and what you want are two different things.”

  “Doubtful.” Up and down she went, memorizing every ridge and contour of him and loving the play of pleasure that flickered across his face. He reciprocated the touch by urging her onto her knees and pushing one hand into the back of her panties. His middle finger slid along the seem of her cheeks until the rough, calloused fingertip grazed her sex and she moaned. More of that please. Lots more.

  “Fucking hell,” he groaned, his fingers smoothing along her labia and mons, giving her some of what she wanted, though it wasn’t nearly enough. He wasn’t touching for her pleasure anyway—he was looking for something he wouldn’t find. “Did you do this yourself?”

  She nodded and rocked her hips, eyes closed while her breath came in shaky pants. If she could just get his fingers aligned with her clit...

  “Stand up.”

  “Huh?” She blinked her eyes open, brow bunched in confusion.

  “I wanna see your pussy, sugar.” A feral grin twitched at his mouth as he hooked a finger in the band of her panties and tugged. “You’re bare and I bet you’re fucking gorgeous.”

  Oh. Okay. Um...

  “No one’s ever told you that before, have they?”

  Never for her benefit. She shook her head and a flicker of something primal mixed with something even darker washed over his face.

  “Fucking idiots. All of them.” Coasting her hands down the back of her thighs, he guided her up. Hazy and intense, his gaze stayed locked on hers until she stood in front of him, dripping wet with her feet planted on either side of his legs.

  A bubble of unexpected emotion rose in her chest and her eyes darted away, heat in her cheeks once again. Dammit, she’d been with more men than she’d ever admit, yet Brody had a way of making her feel completely exposed. With her panties still on, for God’s sake.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands drifting up the back of her calves. “You’re also stronger, more real than anyone I know and it blows my fucking mind that you’re here with me.”

  He’s not going to hurt you, Jenn. Leap!

  “Let your walls down, baby. Let me in.” His fingers reached her panties and, inch by slow inch, he slid them down. “Trust me.”

  Her heart hammered a chaotic beat and her knees shook as she lifted one foot and then the other so he could rid her completely of the tangled satin. It landed on the floor next to her bra and the rest of their discarded clothing, and the movement distracted her just long enough that she missed him leaning in to place an open mouth kiss on the inside of her thigh.

  “Ah!” Ticklish and already aroused, her hands wound in his hair on instinct. She didn’t mean to hold him in place, but she did and she felt his smile against her leg.

  “See, your heart knows what it wants, baby. Maybe you should trust that, too.”

  I’m trying...

  “Or I could always convince you.” Another kiss, this one higher up. Wetter. “I was right, by the way.”

  “Huh?” What was he talking about? “Brody!” Her hand flung out, reaching for the wall, as he jerked her right leg over his shoulder and buried his face between her legs.

  All of her hesitation, all of her fear, all of her ability to think logically disappeared when his spread her open and stroked his thumb over her clit.

  “Jesus fuck,” he groaned. “Look how goddamn pretty you are.”

  Roses. She hoped there were roses at her funeral, because she was going. To. Freaking. Die.

  “B-Brody...” she stammered, but his name was the only word that would come out. Every last one of her brain cells had turned to mush. She couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed about the trickle of moisture sliding down the inside of her thigh.

  “I wanna taste you...” He caught the droplet on the tip of his tongue and growled. “But I won’t be able to stop once I start.”

  Oh, God. Her entire body quivered in anticipation. It had been a damn long time since—

  “I’m gonna eat your pussy until I fucking own it. Until you come harder than you ever have, knowing you belong to me now.”

  Yes! I want that!

  “I take care of what’s mine, sugar, and, if you’ll have me, I’m make it my personal mission to worship every beautiful inch of you, inside and out...thoroughly and as often as I fucking can.”

  He gave her no time to respond—not that she could have—before he nuzzled in deep and did exactly what he promised. His tongue slid over every curve and valley of her sex, sucking and teasing every secret spot he could find. His stubble was an erotic contradiction of pleasure and pain and his fingers... God, his fingers, when they smoothed along her opening and then dipped inside. One at first, then two, expertly working inside of her, while his mouth zeroed in on her clit and drove her higher than she’d ever been.

  She was floating. Suspended in the air and rising, seeking out that elusive high in which her entire world came together, balancing like a ball on top of a pin. Perfect and precise for a few short moments before detonating into a million pieces.

  She gripped his hair and held on tight, because coming for Brody was a hundred times more potent than anything she’d experienced before. Like jumping from an airplane at twelve thousand feet. Fast and intense and so much better than the anticipation.

  Brody stayed with her until every last pulse of orgasm fluttered in her sex and then suddenly he was on his feet, lifting her out of the tub. Her legs found a home around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom, both of them dripping.

  One knee on the bed, he tumbled them down and she gave a soft gasp as her back hit the soft black comforter. Brody loomed above her, seeming larger than life, with a determined gleam in his eyes.

  “You convinced yet, sugar?”

  Oh yeah and, feeling empowered, she reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock. “Not quite. Maybe you should get inside and try again.”

  ***

  She was the most addicting ride he’d ever been on. Up and down like a roller coaster with her emotions and confidence in a way that would have normally freaked him the hell out. With Jenny, howev
er, she was nothing but honest and real and he wanted her all the more because of it.

  He groaned and wound his hands in the comforter when her thumb flicked across the frenulum end of his piercing. His balls drew up tight, too, and, if he didn’t get inside soon, he was gonna come in her hand like a teenager.

  “I want to see it.” She licked her lips like she had more in mind than just looking and his hips flexed into her touch. If her hand felt this good, her mouth would kill him. “Please?”

  How the hell could he deny that sweet pout?

  Getting onto his knees, he pulled her up with him and reached into the nightstand for a strip of condoms. The moonlight streaming through the window lit Jenny up like an ethereal angel, spread open, showing off her prettiest parts just for him. From her lowered eyelids and the way she purred, seeking out his cock once again, she obviously liked what it did to him, too.

  “So hot,” she murmured, one hand on his shaft while the other cupped his balls. “I’ve never...with a piercing.”

  Oh hell yeah. The primal, greedy part of his ego puffed its chest and he gave a crooked smile. “I’ll be gentle.”

  She smiled, too, and before he realized her intent, she shifted to her knees and bobbed down on his dick. Jesus Christ, her mouth. So soft and wet. Her tongue wasted no time getting intimately acquainted with his barbell like it was her own personal novelty toy.

  “Jenn...babe...fuuuck.” His hand slid down the middle of her back, the bumps of her spine so feminine beneath his fingers, as she took him all the way to the back of her throat and then deeper yet until she’d swallowed every inch of him. Christ. She did it again and again, tonguing his piercing until his ears rang and then taking him deep until he lost all sense of control. He roared into the moonlit room, giving into the urge to fuck her mouth until he blew. To claim this part of her, too.

  No. Not like this. She deserved better than him shooting his load down her throat on their first go-round, dammit. This was Jenny, not some meaningless bar head he’d never see again. What the fuck was wrong with him?