Looking over her shoulder, she smiled as she realized what he meant. Her ass was now rosy pink.
****
Although Marissa tried to hide the wince when she sat gingerly on the stool, Aidan still caught it and grimaced in sympathy and guilt. Holy fuck, what had he been thinking? Spanking was one of those things that you maybe, maybe tried with a long-standing girlfriend, not someone you barely knew. He was damn lucky she hadn’t run screaming out of the bathroom after the first smack to dial 911. A small woman like her had to be leery of the physical power of men. She hadn’t, though. She had not only let him continue, but had seemed to honestly enjoy it. Still, guilt poked at him.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
They were sitting side by side at the counter. She turned to look at him and gave him a sly smile that dimmed as she squinted to look deeply into his eyes. “I’m trying to think of something clever to say but you look worried.”
“I am worried,” he admitted and cleared his throat in embarrassment. “I got a little rough in there. You barely know me, and I want to make sure I didn’t scare you or get too aggressive. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She leaned over and gave him a sweet kiss. “My mother says my first word was no. I haven’t lost my knack for using it since.” With a quick wiggle of her butt, she added, “There’s something wickedly arousing about still feeling your hands on me even when you’re not touching me anymore.” She sighed and picked up her coffee. “It’s possible you’ve spoiled me for other men.”
He grinned. “In that case, maybe I’d better stick around for a while longer to keep you happy. It’s the least I can do.” He tried to make the statement casual, sipped at his own coffee to cover his nervousness. It was a bold offer to throw out there after only one night. She wasn’t the one on vacation, either. She had work, probably that very night, and for all he knew, she was silently counting the minutes for him to haul his sorry ass out of her apartment and out of her life. By her own admission, however, she wouldn’t have any trouble answering in the negative.
Her fingers curled around his neck, so he turned to look at her. Her answer was clear to see in her eyes. He still took a quiet breath of relief when she said, “You know I don’t usually pick guys up at the bar. Maybe it was because I had seen you earlier in the day and had admired you already, but it was one of those you-had-me-at-hello moments.”
His body tightened at the confession. Amazingly, he had a strong urge to pick her up again and carry her back to bed. “Do you work today?” he asked instead.
“My shift starts at four. When do you to take off?”
“I have a week of leave. I was sharing a house with my buddies. Now that they’re gone, I was going to get my stuff and find a hotel for the rest of my vacation.”
She rubbed the back of his neck with soft strokes. “There are plenty of nice places to stay around here, although none of them comes with me.” She licked her lips in feminine invitation.
His cock stirred, and tempting as it was to make her wet again and find heaven within her sweet pussy, he knew he had to cool it. He had ridden her hard this morning, and he didn’t want her soreness to go from titillating to irritating through his lack of control. “I think you’ve become an essential amenity to any place I bunk down in.”
Her lips parted in a wide smile before she gave him another sweet kiss. When she would have pulled away, he clasped her by her shoulders and kept her in place, deepening the kiss. His tongue chased hers until they both had to come up for air. “God, you make me hard faster than any woman I’ve ever known.” Okay, as true as the statement was, what had happened to playing it cool? He let her go and hopped off his stool. He bit back a groan when pain shot up from his stump.
“Are you all right?” She frowned at him in concern.
Obviously, he hadn’t hidden his discomfort well enough. “I’m fine. Really,” he added when she looked skeptical. “Sometimes I forget my body isn’t in the same shape it used to be.” He sighed and looked away. “It’s one of the toughest parts of accepting the loss of my leg. I always took pride in being physically tough. I could handle anything any other SEAL could, and because I was secure in my abilities, it was easy being the healer in the group. I liked taking care of my guys.”
He paused, shrugged. It was weird how easy it was to talk to Marissa when he’d clammed up with everyone else. It was nice to have the outlet even though he had insisted to everyone that he was fine, that he didn’t need to “talk” out his feelings about his disability. “I know it’s kind of stupid, but I feel like I lost more than my leg. Part of my manhood, maybe.” And now, he had officially entered the land of self-pity. Awesome. All the girls loved going there with a guy.
Surprisingly, Marissa didn’t hop down and hug him with murmurs of platitudes about how he was still a hero in her eyes. Instead, she snorted with derision and scooped up the last of her eggs. “I have a sore ass and pussy that testifies to how totally wrong you are about that.” When he looked at her, stricken again with concern for how rough he had been, she waved her fork at him. “In a totally I-feel-well-fucked sort of way. Go wash up. We can get your stuff, take a walk along the beach, grab some lunch at my favorite outdoor café. Then you can come to the bar with me and be my inspiration.”
Her casual dismissal of his pity party relaxed him. “Sounds like a plan. Inspiration for what?”
“It’s Sunday night. Will and I do flair bartending to draw people into the bar.”
“Seriously?”
“I have hidden talents. Maybe I’ll show you some of the more private ones later.” She winked at him.
His cock cried out in desperation to be let loose to play. Later, he told it and went to do as bidden.
Chapter Four
Aidan sat awestruck as he watched Marissa and her fellow bartender, Will, dazzle the crowd with their synchronized moves. He had seen bartenders do this kind of thing before, but this was the first time he’d taken the time to really appreciate the intricate moves. It was juggling when all was said and done, and his lady had flair to spare. She smiled broadly as she twirled and tossed bottles and shakers, swizzle sticks and fruit pieces. She laughed, too, showing how happy she truly was performing. Wow, how had he lucked out, finding—being picked up by really—such a smart, sexy, talented woman? Sitting at the bar, nursing his own beer, he could watch her all night.
When she took a break to cheers and applause, she sauntered over to him and rested her arms across the bar. “How’s it going?”
“You were fantastic. Seriously,” he emphasized when she shrugged the compliment off. “Where did you learn it?”
“At bartender’s school. It helps to have extra skills when competing for jobs down here. It allows me to command a higher salary actually, which helps pay the bills. How’s your burger?”
“Great. I’m eating slowly to justify my taking up a seat all night. I’ll order more beer and food in a little while.”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m shift manager, so it’s my call having you stay. I like it,” she confessed with a shy grin.
He leaned in and said in a low voice, “I guess I can always make it up to you later.”
“Hmm, sounds interesting.”
“Watch it, asshole!”
They both looked over at the scene unfolding a few feet from where Aidan sat. A middle-aged guy faced a younger man whose beer had obviously spilled down his shirt.
“Sorry, buddy, but you’re taking up too much of the bar. I want to order a drink. You were in my way.”
“Fuck you. I paid for my drink. I have a right to take up whatever room I want. And now you owe me another beer.”
“Fuck you!”
The younger man shoved the older one, causing more of his own beer to spill.
“Uh, oh. Time for the shift manager to bring the peace,” Marissa said with a loud sigh. She headed for the end of the bar to come around front.
“Hey, watch out. Don’t get between those two,”
Aidan warned.
Paying no attention to him, she stalked up to the two men who were squaring off. “Okay boys, no fighting in my bar. Break it up or take it outside.”
The words had barely left her mouth when the younger man threw what was left of his beer in the other guy’s face before slamming the mug down on the bar and throwing a punch.
“Hey!” Marissa yelled.
Aidan dropped off the stool, ignored the pain, and hurried over to the confrontation. Fear gave him speed. He wasn’t fast enough, though, and saw red when the belligerent younger man dared to shove Marissa when she whipped her body in front of him. Aidan roared and launched himself at the other guy. As Marissa steadied herself, he grabbed the guy’s arm and twisted it. At the same time, he kicked the back of the asshole’s knee. He followed the momentum of the guy’s fall in order to hold him down by gripping him by the back of his neck and holding his arm up high behind him. The guy howled in anger.
Ignoring his prisoner, Aidan snapped his head around to find Marissa. He saw her standing only a few feet away, staring at him wide-eyed. “Are you okay?” he demanded.
“I’m fine. Is he okay?”
“I haven’t broken anything, yet,” he growled back. He emphasized how quickly that could change by twisting the man’s arm a little harder.
“Okay.” She looked around the bar. Everyone was staring at the spontaneous entertainment. “I guess I should call the cops.”
“Already did,” Will called out.
“Good.” She nodded and then caught sight of the other man who was still lying on the floor where the punch had landed him. She walked closer to him and looking down, asked, “Are you all right, sir?”
There was no answer, just a lot of wheezing, his hand clutched to his chest. Then there was nothing. He stopped making any sound, his eyes closed and he was perfectly still. “Shit!” Aidan said. “I think he’s gone into cardiac arrest.”
“What? No, no.” Marissa dropped down on her knees and gently shook the man. “Sir, sir, can you hear me?”
Aidan cursed. No one was doing a damn thing. Everyone was still just standing and watching. “He needs CPR and I can’t do it because I can’t let this idiot go.” The moron was still cursing and struggling, threatening to tear Aidan apart.
Marissa looked at him wild-eyed. “But I don’t know CPR. I keep meaning to take classes. I just never find the time.”
“No problem. It’s easy. Place your hands between his pecs, palm down, hand over hand, fingers laced. That’s it,” he said when she complied. Christ, she was so tiny, yet she instinctively was up on her knees for leverage. “Now start pressing down, fast. Faster and harder. Lock your wrists, keep your arms straight,” he said when her movements were too tentative.
“Like this?” she asked in a steady voice with just a hint of fear.
“Better. You need to keep up the rhythm. Use the tempo from Staying Alive.”
“What?” she looked at him as if he were crazy.
“It works. Trust me.” Singing was not his talent, but he tried anyway. He started in on the lyrics, surprised he could even remember them, and emphasized the beat.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she joined in, her lovely high voice doing far greater justice to the original falsetto version. Her head bobbed to the song as her hands compressed the man’s chest.
“You got it,” he said.
“Let go of me, you one-legged freak.” His captive twisted violently to free himself.
“Stop squirming, shithead, or I swear I’ll break your arm,” he hissed into the younger man’s ear before he picked up the song again. Now he was just bleating out nonsense as he had reached the limit of his memory on the actual lyrics. Holy fuck where were the cops? He wasn’t worried about himself. It was Marissa. She was sweating now as she sang and pumped.
“Called the EMTs, too,” Will said, coming around the bar, joining in, clapping in rhythm to the song.
Soon everyone in the bar was singing and clapping. Most people were a bit fuzzy on the lyrics, but it didn’t matter. The beat stayed steady, and Marissa didn’t waver. It was only once the cops and EMTs arrived to take over, that she collapsed back onto the floor and scurried away from the action on her lovely, but probably still sore ass. As soon as the cops had his little bundle of joy under control, Aidan raced to help her back to her feet.
She looked up at him and grinned. “Wow, that was different.”
He pulled her in for a tight hug. “You were amazing.”
“Me? You’re the one who subdued the asshole.” She stood on her toes and kissed him. “My hero, and I mean that.”
****
Marissa sighed with delight as Aidan scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the apartment again. Resting her head against his shoulder, she said, “If you’re not careful, I’m going to get hooked on all of this pampering.”
He kissed her crown. “After a night like this, you deserve it.” He sat down on the sofa with her in his lap. “Have I told you how crazed I was when that asshole shoved you?”
With a surreptitious eye-roll, she nodded. “I’ve lost count how many times. Seriously, it was no big deal.”
“Seriously, he could have hurt your beautiful fanny, and you know how much I love that part of you.”
“Hmm,” she purred and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe you should spank me for putting myself and my backside in harm’s way.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “No ma’am. There is a fine line between pleasure and pain, and I don’t intend to cross it tonight. We’ve got days together to plan another spanking for when your skin has had a chance to stop being sore.”
She squirmed a bit in his lap and had to acknowledge he was right. A sting lingered, enough to heighten the arousal already building inside her. It wouldn’t be a good idea to overdo. Still, talk of it or maybe simply her body pressed against his had made Aidan hard. His cock rose between them, inviting her to play. She shifted to rub against it and felt the ridge of his prosthesis along the edge of her thigh. Apparently sensing the contact, Aidan shifted her closer to his torso with the hand that had lain loosely over her hip.
That simple gesture gave her courage to finally address the thing that lay between, the thing that wasn’t his cock. “It doesn’t bother me, you know,” she said looking up at him.
“What?”
“Your leg, your artificial one. I don’t mind it touching me,” she clarified.
“Um, okay. Good,” he replied and looked away.
Oh, no. They needed to face this head on or they’d spend the rest of the week with him trying to keep her from seeing him as he truly was. She cupped his chin and forced him to look at her again. “Aidan, if we’re going to spend any more time together, you have to stop hiding from me. You can’t keep me from seeing you without all your clothes and the prosthesis off. I don’t want it to become this big ‘thing’ between us. I can handle it.”
Clasping her hand in his, he planted a kiss on her palm and sighed. “I thought about this a bit while at the bar. If I try and you cooperate, I can keep you from seeing what’s left of my leg. It’s not exactly a turn-on.”
“I know. I don’t want you to think I’m pushing you on this because I think amputated limbs are hot. I mean there are people for whom it is a turn-on. And, if that’s your kink, then okay. But that’s not me.” She groaned in frustration. “It’s just that I want you to be relaxed with me and right now, you’re not, not completely.”
He nodded curtly. “You’re right.”
A few seconds ticked by with them both still. He stared out into space as if waging a war within. Finally, he lifted her off his lap and placed her on the couch beside him. With a rueful grin, he whipped his t-shirt off and tossed it aside. Then bending over, he pulled off his sneakers. His prosthesis was the skeleton type, and the lower half was visible beneath the hem of his shorts. She could see now, though, how the foot part looked like a real one, sort off, in order to fit a regular sneaker. N
ot wanting to stare, she looked at his face.
“That’s the easy part,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrows. His chest rose and fell on a heavy breath before he stood up and unsnapped his shorts. He let them slide down his legs to pool at his feet then stepped out of them. True to SEAL lore, he was going commando. His cock was still semi-erect, his balls fairly snug between his legs.
“You’re beginning to get my attention,” she murmured with her gaze fixed squarely on his package.
He laughed as she had hoped he would. It was obvious he felt awkward standing in front of her with his artificial leg on full display. It was a complex mechanism with joints and straps. She could see where his leg sat in a cup designed to hold his stump, but the thigh above it looked like any other male thigh. The only noticeable difference to the whole leg was that it looked a little thinner. He probably hadn’t been able to use it as much and rebuild muscle.
Sitting back down beside her, he said, “This is where it gets a little tough.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looked at her with a hopeful smile. “I know.” With what appeared to be well-practiced moves, he disengaged the prosthesis from his leg and placed it on the floor. He sat back and put his arms on the back of the sofa. His eyes focused on a point across the room.
They sat in silence for a few seconds as Marissa tried to think of what to say, what to do. In the end, she went with her gut and placed her hand on top of his thigh. He flinched, but otherwise remained still, almost distant from her as if it were too painful to gauge her reaction. She slowly slid her hand close to the scarred stump where his knee had once began. She didn’t dare go farther, not because she was repulsed but out of fear of causing him pain. The skin looked sensitive.
“Does it hurt?” she asked in a low voice, then literally smacked herself on the forehead with her free hand. “God, stupid question.”
He shifted his gaze to her and chuckled. “Not so stupid. It doesn’t hurt the way it used to. I have to be careful not to overdo it, and I get massages to help keep the blood flowing. When things get bad enough, I have meds. Fortunately, it’s much better, although I still get phantom pain now and then where the rest of my leg used to be.”
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