Marine for Hire (Front and Center)

by Tawna Fenske

“You obeyed my order,” he said.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” She smiled up at him, and Sam felt his heart twist. “I figure if one of us is going to get shot confronting an intruder, it should be you. I don’t want to leave the boys motherless.”

  “Smart woman.” Sam took a deep breath. “Jonathan is here.”

  “What? How on earth did he get in?”

  “He claims the door was unlocked.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, then frowned. “That might be right. I came home for lunch when I found out I’d be working late tonight. I was having trouble with the lock, and I was in a hurry and—dammit, this is my fault.”

  “No,” Sam insisted. “It’s not your fault. A man can’t just walk into your house, not even if the door is unlocked. It’s trespassing.”

  She hugged her arms around her elbows. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’ll be more careful.”

  “It’s okay. Want me to call the police?”

  She hesitated. “Let me talk to him first. He wants to see the boys?”

  “He wants to see you, too.”

  Sheri glanced down at the babies, who were fast asleep in their carriers. “Can you watch them for a second? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind before he gets distracted pretending to play daddy.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you alone with him. Not after what he pulled tonight.”

  “You can stay within earshot. Please? I just need a second.”

  He hesitated, then bent down and picked up the infant carriers. “I’m following you inside, and I’ll give you some space. But if he so much as lays a finger on you—”

  “Thank you, Sam. Truly.”

  Sheri walked through the door, her stride purposeful and confident, even though Sam could see her hands were shaking. She marched right up to her ex-husband and folded her arms over her chest.

  “Never again, do you hear me? You do not ever, under any circumstances, enter my home without my express permission.”

  “You’re being unreasonable, Sheridan. I just wanted to talk with you, and I haven’t been able to get you to listen. We just need to sit down together and—”

  “No! Let’s get one thing clear here. We are not sitting down together, nor are we standing up, lying down, or assuming any position together besides that of two people who happen to share a whole lot of animosity and two really amazing kids. Do I make myself clear?”

  “We’re a family, Sheridan.”

  Limpdick started to reach for her, and Sam braced himself to pounce. She beat him to it, smacking Limpdick’s hand away as she took a step back.

  “We belong together,” Jonathan tried again.

  Sam set the baby carriers at the edge of the living room, out of Limpdick’s line of sight. He checked to be sure the boys were still sleeping, then positioned himself in the corner of the room. He stood at ease, thumbs interlaced behind his back.

  “You gave up your rights to me and to this family when you walked out on us,” Sheri said. “When you betrayed me.”

  Sam tried not to wince as he thought about betrayal. Was he really much better than Jonathan?

  “You slept with a stripper, for chrissakes,” Sheri snapped. “In our goddamn marriage bed while I was taking the boys to the doctor for a checkup.”

  Okay, maybe he was a little better than Jonathan.

  “Surely you’re aware that wasn’t all my fault,” Jonathan replied. “What was I supposed to do? We hadn’t been intimate for weeks, and a man has certain needs.”

  “You’re insane!” Sheri yelled. “I gave birth to twins—your children, might I remind you. You’ll have to forgive me if I didn’t hop straight off the delivery table to ride the baloney pony.”

  “There’s no need to be rude, Sheridan.”

  “Actually, I think this is exactly the sort of situation that requires it.” She took a deep breath and a step back. “Look, I’m not going to have this conversation with you. Say what you need to say to the boys, and then I’d like you to leave. If you pull anything like this again, I’m reporting you to your command.”

  Jonathan scowled at her, then shot a hateful look at Sam. “Like she’s any good in the sack, anyway. Take my advice, man—don’t bother with this one. She makes cold fish look like good bedmates. Seriously—”

  It was the last word he uttered before Sam punched him squarely in the jaw.

  …

  Sheri fell into bed early that night, feeling exhausted but restless, craving Sam’s touch. She slept in unfulfilling bursts and woke at the crack of dawn with no hope of drifting back into a slumber.

  So much for sleeping late on a Saturday.

  She rubbed her cheek against her pillowcase, certain she still smelled a faint hint of sawdust where Sam had rested his head.

  Christ, was that only two days ago? Amazing how quickly things changed.

  She had to admit, watching him punch Jonathan while defending her honor had been pretty hot. She may have sworn off military men, but that didn’t mean she was immune to the charms of a hot, burly beefcake with an overcharged sense of responsibility, too much provider instinct, and a mean right hook.

  She rolled over again, restless. A wild rooster crowed outside her window as the sun bathed the room in pale light. She could smell the sea air and a hint of something in the sheets that must’ve been the scent of Sam’s shampoo.

  She wanted to keep fighting her attraction to him, but she wasn’t sure she had it in her. Seeing Jonathan and Sam together, it was clear they had nothing in common. If she was worried about Sam lying and cheating and treating her the way Jonathan had, she felt fairly certain she didn’t have to fear that.

  Still, there was something about Sam she couldn’t quite read. Something that didn’t add up. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she sensed he had secrets.

  The thought of Sam and secrets sent her mind wandering down another path entirely. Did he crave her touch the way she craved his? Did he lie in bed thinking about her, wanting to wander down the hall and crawl in bed beside her?

  She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even six in the morning. Was he awake yet? He was an early riser, so it was possible. Maybe now would be a good time to discuss things. To talk about this crazy attraction between them.

  Talking isn’t what you have in mind, her subconscious scolded, but she was already out of bed and cinching her robe at her waist.

  She padded quietly down the hall, not wanting to wake Sam or the boys. She peeked into the babies’ room and saw them both curled in their cribs sleeping soundly. She paused a moment to watch them breathing, then crossed the hall to his room.

  The door was open, and she hesitated, not wanting to invade his privacy. But maybe he was up, too. Maybe she could offer him some coffee or toast or—

  Coffee and toast is not what you want to offer him.

  She cinched her robe tighter and stepped into the doorway.

  It took her a moment to register what she was seeing. Sam was seated in his desk chair facing away from her. The back of the chair covered most of his torso, but she could tell he was shirtless. Early sunlight bathed his shoulders in a warm glow.

  His right arm moved rhythmically, stroking something in his lap. She could see his forearm disappearing and reappearing at the edge of the chair, moving in a steady tempo. A flash of terry cloth poking out at the edge of the chair told her he had a towel on his lap. His shoulders moved with each stroke, and she shivered with intrigue at the knowledge of what he was doing.

  She knew she should leave, and give him some privacy, but she felt frozen in place. Was he thinking about her as he touched himself? What if she tiptoed in and offered to assist? What if she dropped to her knees in front of him and—

  Sam whirled around. The towel in his lap masked the evidence of his arousal, but it was his expression that made Sheri take a step back.

  Absolute, total horror.

  He blinked at her, his face shifting from horror to guilt. “I can explain.”
<
br />   “Sam, I’m not—”

  “Just give me a second to—”

  “It’s okay, I have brothers. I understand.”

  “No, I swear, your brothers didn’t—”

  “Sam, stop.” She stepped forward, trying not to look at the bulge beneath the towel he’d thrown over his lap. “It’s okay. We all have needs. I mean, God knows I’ve been working my personal massager overtime, and—”

  She stopped, trying to read him. He hadn’t said a word, but the bulge under the towel wasn’t going away.

  “Look, Sam. This is silly.”

  “It is?”

  “I want you. You want me. It’s stupid for me to be next door fantasizing about you and touching myself while you’re in here like this. We should be touching each other. This is ridiculous.”

  She took another step forward, close enough to feel the heat of his skin. She wasn’t sure if it was lust or insanity making her bold, but she didn’t care. She was done dancing around this. She moved her hand to the sash on the front of her robe and untied it, shrugging the purple satin off her shoulders. She shivered as the purple satin fell to her feet, and she stood there naked before him, daring herself not to flinch.

  Daring Sam not to run.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “My God,” Sam said, closing his eyes.

  It was partly the thrill of seeing her naked before him, eager and willing and so goddamn beautiful.

  But it was also relief.

  He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to being caught. To having this whole thing blow up in his face.

  He hadn’t been jerking off—hell, he wouldn’t have cared about that. He’d been cleaning his pistol, polishing and rubbing it down with an oilcloth the way he’d been taught to do when he was still a young Marine.

  Now he just needed to get rid of the evidence.

  Sam opened his eyes and looked at her, eager to lunge out of his chair and put his hands all over her. God, she was beautiful. And so very, very naked.

  “Could you do me a favor?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Anything you want.”

  “Don’t ask me why. I just need you to turn around and close your eyes for ten seconds.”

  She looked at him curiously, then nodded. “Sure thing,” she said, pivoting on her heels. “One. Two. Three—”

  He picked up the towel he’d spread over his lap, gathering the cleaning rod and brushes and the parts of the pistol still disassembled. He yanked open his desk drawer and shoved the whole thing inside. He’d have to finish cleaning up later, but for now—

  He stood up, reaching for her before he’d even cleared the distance between them. His hand closed around her hip, pulling her to him.

  “You can turn back around.”

  She smiled up at him, turning with a glance toward the desk.

  “Nicely done,” she said. “Your cleanup skills are impeccable.”

  “That’s what I’m paid for. Sorta.”

  He moved his hand over her hip and across the curve of her ass, reveling in the feel of all that warm flesh beneath his palm. God, he wanted her.

  “Um, look,” she said, biting her lip. “I don’t know how far you’d gotten when I walked in, and if you need a little time to recharge your batteries, I totally understand and we can just snuggle or—”

  “Sheri?”

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up,” he said, and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her softly at first, then with a fierceness that surprised even him. He pressed his body against hers, making sure she felt the evidence he was more than ready to please her.

  “No recharging necessary,” she breathed as he kissed his way down her throat. “Thank God.”

  He devoured her everywhere at once, nipping, licking, teasing as he made his way down the center of her body. He drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his hands circled her waist. She gasped and twined her fingers in his hair. Sam moved to the other breast, licking, brushing her nipple with his stubbled cheek.

  Sheri whimpered, and he felt her knees start to buckle. He caught her around the waist and held her upright.

  “What do you say we try this in a bed for once,” he murmured. “Just for variety.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “I’m not asking now,” he said, scooping her into his arms. “I’m telling you I’m going to make love to you until neither of us can stand, so we might as well start out in a reclined position.”

  He tossed her onto the immaculately made queen bed, not bothering to pull the covers back. She scrambled for a moment, and he could tell she was trying to arrange herself in a flattering position, adjusting her breasts and sucking in her stomach. He caught her hands in his and shook his head.

  “You’re perfect exactly the way you are. It wouldn’t matter if you stood on your head with your ankles at your ears and your hair on fire—you’d look amazing no matter what.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad you think so, because I’m pretty sure I haven’t been able to pull off that ankle-to-ear thing since college.”

  She reached for the drawstring at the waist of his shorts and gave it a tug. He stroked her breast with one hand as she maneuvered his shorts down over his hips, her hands deft and eager and so goddamn soft.

  “I want you,” he said, holding her eyes with his as he knelt on the edge of the bed. “I hope you know that. I’m not just giving in because you showed up here and took your robe off. I’m doing this because I desperately, urgently want you, and if I had to wait one more minute, my brain was going to explode all over this room.”

  “Brains are difficult to scrub off apricot-colored walls,” Sheri breathed as he bent to kiss her again. “It’s a good thing I have a manny with a knack for deep cleaning.”

  “Lucky you.”

  She giggled and edged back on the bed, making room for him to lie down with her. Sam reached around her, his arms on either side of her body as he lowered himself onto her. He pinned her beneath him, reveling in the feel of her moving under him. Every part of his body touched some part of hers, from toes to knees to belly to chest.

  He breathed her in, savoring the soft, floral scent of her, watching his breath rustle the wild curls framing her face.

  “So beautiful. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  She smiled up at him. “No. Why don’t you tell me? I think I’d enjoy that.”

  He held her eyes with his as something clenched in his chest. “You’re seriously the most amazing woman I’ve ever seen. I love every single part of your body. I love your hair and your breasts and your hips and your hands and that little birthmark on your shin that looks like a jellybean. Every part of you is perfect.”

  “I—thank you.”

  He pushed one of his knees between hers, forcing them apart. His body fell naturally into the space between her legs, and she moaned beneath him.

  “Yes,” she whispered, arching beneath him. “Please, Sam. Don’t stop.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  She gasped as he slid inside her. “I can take orders, too,” he murmured.

  “Thank God.”

  He drove into her hard, and her eyes went wide with surprise and pleasure. She gasped, arching up to meet his thrust. He moved into her again, drawing back slowly before plunging in again. Her hips rose to meet him, a rhythm that made his whole body hum with pleasure. He drew back and hesitated, her breath warm on his throat. She twined her fingers around his back, urging him on.

  “What?” she gasped.

  “Just slowing down,” he whispered, kissing the base of her throat. “Making it last.”

  He moved his hips, angling his pubic bone against her to hit that perfect spot. She cried out, writhing beneath him. He drew back again, pausing there before sliding inside her, feeling her warmth sheathe every throbbing inch of him.

  Her hips picked up a rhythm all their own, and he moved to match her. She quivered beneath him, crying out softly. He drew himself i
nto her, no longer certain where her body ended and hers began.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He wasn’t sure what she was pleading for, but he wanted it, too.

  He moved again, grinding against her with exquisite slowness. His eyes locked on hers, unblinking. She gazed back, her lashes fluttering as he stroked into her. She gasped as he withdrew, pulling out of her almost completely, hesitating there at her entrance. Then he slid in again, moving with agonizing, languid strokes.

  She closed her eyes and seemed to disappear into the sensation. Sam could feel himself starting to lose it, but he gritted his teeth and held on. He wanted this to last forever.

  She cried out, rocking her hips beneath him as she pressed her body tightly against his. Her breath was warm in his ear, and he smelled jasmine in her hair. She bit his shoulder as he glided out, then in again.

  “Yes,” she breathed, arching tight against him. “Yes.”

  She dug her nails into his shoulder blades as Sam drove into her again. He was still moving slowly, but his brain was swirling fast now. His breath came quick and hot, with hers matching the fevered pace.

  She circled her hips, grinding her body against his. Sam groaned, whispered her name, drove himself deeper. She was close. He could feel it. Her fingers clenched around his shoulders as she gasped, riding the first wave as it began to crest. He thrust into her and gave a low moan in the back of his throat.

  “Ohmygod!” she whimpered.

  Sam thrust into her again, tipping her over the edge. She cried out, digging her nails into his back to spur him on. He thrust into her, his breath coming in fevered gasps until he felt something inside him break loose. Spots of color exploded behind his eyes as she clenched her thighs around him.

  Everything burst into a million bits of bliss as he drove into her again and again and again.

  They lay there panting afterward, their bodies glued together as the ceiling fan whirred overhead.

  “My God,” she breathed, turning her head to look at him. He was still half on top of her, not sure he’d ever be able to move again.

  He smiled her. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Sheri laughed and wriggled beneath him. Sam rolled off her, moving to his side and pulling her to his chest. She turned in his arms and smiled up at him, stroking his cheek with her palm. He drew her closer.