by L. A. Witt
“Mark,” I said as I shook his hand, like I needed to commit his name to memory. “So, Mark . . . I’m not off until after closing, but if you want to hang around . . .” I fought the urge to gulp nervously. As long as one of us thought I was calm and cool, we were good. “The after-party might be worth the wait.”
His eyes lit up. Dios mío, he was pretty. Way too pretty for me to be getting anywhere near since he was a military guy, but I’d already asked, and he was already saying, “Yeah. Sure.”
“You won’t get bored hanging out here?”
He smiled, and his gaze slid up and down my body. “No. I don’t think getting bored will be a problem.”
Diego and I couldn’t make much conversation after that. The club was too loud and he was too busy. So, we kept it to flirtatious glances and suggestive comments. That was fine by me. I knew everything I needed to know—he was either gay or bi, he was into me, and he was game to hook up after closing.
At last call, we exchanged one last sultry look—holy fuck, those eyes—and I left. He’d asked me to wait for him at a diner around the corner, and it only took a minute to find the place. The night was getting seriously fucking cold, and I wanted us to be able to make a quick escape when he caught up with me, but I’d also had a few drinks in pretty rapid succession, so I walked the block or so to the diner.
A handwritten sign on the diner’s door confirmed they were open twenty-four hours, so I went inside. Sleigh bells jingled so loud they could probably be heard from the base, and a waitress with dark circles under her eyes smiled sleepily.
“Just one?” she asked.
“Uh, no. Two. I’m waiting for someone.” Right then, I noticed the sign that said they wouldn’t seat people until the whole party had arrived. “Oh. I can wait if—”
“It’s okay. We ain’t all that busy this time of night.” She pulled two ragged laminated menus from the pocket beside the register and nodded sharply for me to follow her.
I didn’t know if we even needed menus. From the way Diego and I had been looking at each other, dinner or coffee or dessert didn’t seem like necessary steps. That or I was just itching to get him into my bed.
This was his idea, though, and that was after he’d turned me down once. God knew what had changed his mind or how long we’d end up staying here. I wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth.
I skimmed over the menu and ordered a Mountain Dew. A little caffeine for the road wouldn’t hurt. I also ordered a piece of cake I didn’t really want just so I’d have something to soak up the alcohol. I was mostly sober by now, but if I was going to drive, I couldn’t be too careful.
While I sipped my soda and nibbled the slab of carrot cake, I looked around the diner. It was a charming little place. That seemed to be the MO of Anchor Point—the “seaside small town” charm was everywhere. This restaurant in particular had a sailboat theme, and I had to give them credit for not being over the top about it. There were some framed paintings on the walls along with some shadowboxes containing various knots. The single cash register was behind an old brass helm someone must polish regularly since I couldn’t see a hint of tarnish.
Maybe it was too soon to decide, but . . . I liked this place. Not just the diner either. I liked Anchor Pont. Time would tell if the small-town charm wore off and got annoying, but for tonight, I liked it. If there was a place in this world where I could make a fresh start after my divorce, this was it. The town was tiny, quiet, and on the opposite coast from Norfolk. Perfect.
Anchor Point even seemed cleaner, though it was entirely possible I just hadn’t focused long enough to see the dirt. Sort of like how a cheap motel could seem perfectly immaculate and respectable, but once the sex was over and the smoke started clearing, it was hard to miss how the wallpaper was curling at the seams and yellowing along the uneven molding. The peeling laminate of the nightstand would let the particle board show through, and the uneven shadows on the ceiling would give away the dust that had been building in the light fixtures for God knew how long. And suddenly I’d realize I was lying in a seedy room with someone I never should have fucked.
Well shit. That train of thought had derailed in a hurry.
I shook myself and took another bite of the carrot cake. Yeah, this town was a good place for the new start I desperately needed.
Sighing, I stared out the window at the neat row of buildings across the street. A couple of shops and a dry cleaner, maybe. The signs were hard to read now that the whole town had rolled up its streets and gone dark for the night.
I’d made a lot of mistakes in my past life, and I’d make more in my new one. At least adultery wouldn’t be one of them this time. I glanced down at my hand and wondered when I’d started thumbing the groove my wedding band had left. Then I looked out the window again.
Even if Anchor Point eventually showed its yellowing edges and dusty fixtures, it was a new start. A chance to get the future right after doing such a number on my past.
My ex-wife had fucked up too, and in a lot of the same ways, and we’d forgiven each other. I wondered if she’d forgiven herself. Next time I talked to her, maybe I’d ask. And if she said yes, maybe she’d tell me how.
Clanging sleigh bells jarred me out of my thoughts, and I looked up just in time to see Diego stride through the front door. He gave me a quick grin, then paused to say something to the waitress. Ordering a Coke, I thought.
While he did that, I looked him up and down. Overhead fluorescents never did anyone any favors, but they were hardly detracting from the hot man I’d met under the bar’s dim lights.
He’d changed into a skintight black T-shirt and was huddled in a deep-brown leather jacket that had obviously seen better days. The hint of pink in his cheeks could have been from the cold outside or some lingering flush from a hot shower. Since his hair was damp and more carefully arranged than before, I assumed it was the latter.
Now he was heading this way, and I was so caught up in ogling him, he was halfway across the restaurant before I noticed he was walking with a limp.
Alarm made me sit up straighter. “You all right?”
He waved a hand, some more color blooming in his cheeks as he slid in across from me. His shoulder moved as he—I assumed—rubbed his knee under the table. “Sore. Been standing too long.”
Oh, that made sense. The thought of standing behind a bar for hours on end made my whole body ache with sympathy.
“Sorry I took so long.” He smiled, and it was sheepish, but somehow still wolfish at the same time. “I wanted to grab a shower.”
“There’s a shower at the bar?”
“Oh yeah.” He waved his hand like that was a perfectly normal thing. “I thought it was weird too until the first time someone puked on me.”
I almost gagged just thinking about it. “Lovely.”
“Part of the job,” he said with a shrug.
Well, if bartending had ever been on my list of potential postretirement jobs, it wasn’t anymore.
Pushing that thought out of my mind, I played with my straw as I watched him from across the shining white table. “So, are we eating something? Or . . .?”
Diego’s grin made me weak. “No. I just didn’t think you’d want to wait outside in the cold while I finished up at work. Besides”—he gestured at my plate—“looks like you beat me to it.”
I shrugged, pushing the crumb-covered plate aside. “Just trying to sober up.”
“You didn’t seem that drunk.”
“No, but I like to have every advantage I can if I’m going to take someone to bed.”
His eyebrows flicked up, but I couldn’t imagine he was more surprised than I was by what I’d said. Or by the fact that we were even here, especially after how things had started tonight.
After the waitress had come by with a soda for him, and we were alone again, I cleared my throat. “So can I ask something personal?”
He nodded.
I hesitated, not sure if I should remind him why he’d rej
ected me at first tonight, but the curiosity really was getting to me. “What’s the deal with the military?”
He didn’t seem surprised by the question. As he spoke, he closed his hands around his glass. “The Navy fucked me. I’ve been known to hook up with military guys, but very, very rarely.” He laughed bitterly. “I sure as shit don’t date military, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I’m someone’s dependent.” He spat the last word.
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say.
Diego shifted in his seat, staring into his soda. “To be honest, I usually won’t even hook up with someone who isn’t a civilian, but tonight . . .” A cautious smile tugged at his full lips. “What can I say? No matter how many times I told myself to keep my hands off because you’re military, I just don’t want to.”
I gulped. “So, you’re not interested in dating me because I’m military, but you’re interested in sleeping with me?”
His smile made my skin tingle. “Nothing personal.” The tip of his tongue darted across his lower lip. “As soon as I said no, I was kicking myself. So when I got another chance, I decided I didn’t want you to get away.”
I studied him for a moment before I laughed softly and shook my head. “I almost feel like I should be offended, but I’m not exactly diving headlong into dating myself. If the only thing we’re going to do is fuck”—I gave him what I hoped came across as an appreciative look—“you won’t hear me bitching.”
Diego’s smile broadened. “So we’re on the same page, yeah?”
“If that page ends with us naked?” I nodded. “Definitely.”
“Then maybe we should get the hell out of here.”
Oh fuck yes.
I nodded with more enthusiasm than I probably should have, but I was beyond trying to play it cool.
Without another word, we got up. I paid at the register, and we headed outside in silence.
This was hands down the weirdest path I’d ever taken from meeting to sleeping together, but at this point, I wasn’t going to argue. He could’ve pitched a November skinny dip in the Pacific, and I’d have gone along with it as long as—once our balls came back down—we wound up in bed.
As we walked through the diner’s mostly empty parking lot, the wind off the Pacific made the night even colder. Now we definitely needed to get someplace else.
“So.” I tried not to let my teeth chatter. “Your place or mine?”
“Yours is probably much nicer than mine. Unless you live on base?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve done my time in base housing.”
“Perfect.” Diego halted, so I did too. His eyes narrowed in a way that nearly canceled out the cold. “But before we do, maybe we should make sure we’re . . . compatible?”
I gulped, suddenly having visions of Anchor Point PD explaining to base security and my CO what they’d caught me doing in the diner’s parking lot. “What do you have in mind?”
He didn’t say a word. He closed the space between us to a sliver, and his hand slid over my hip, the contact making my pulse surge. Before I’d even adjusted to the presence of his hand, it had snaked around to the small of my back, and that sliver between us was gone, and—
Diego kissed me.
I’d expected something fierce and demanding, messy and suggestive, but he was soft and gentle. Not passive or uncertain, but gentle. Almost sweet.
Everything around us had gone quiet. Much quieter than a small town at three in the morning. Like it was all just . . . gone. I couldn’t even feel the cold wind at all anymore; one touch of his mouth, and I was instantly hot all over, my whole body responding to his languid kiss.
I moaned against his lips as I wrapped my arms around him. Good thing, too, because he started teasing my lips apart with his tongue, and as he deepened the kiss, my knees liquefied. If I hadn’t been holding him this close, God knew if I’d have been able to stay standing at all.
It had been longer than I could remember since someone had kissed me like they wanted me, and I didn’t think my foundation had ever been rattled this hard by a simple kiss. It wasn’t that I was instantly in love with him or anything insane like that. Maybe I was just thrown off because I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to be touched, or because he’d seemed like someone I didn’t have a chance with, or he was really just that talented with his lips and tongue. I didn’t know. I just knew I liked it. A lot.
His long fingers carded through my hair as his body radiated heat through our clothes. I thought my heart might go right through my ribs.
So this is what chemistry tastes like.
Diego broke the kiss as gently as he’d started it, and when our eyes met in the lazy light of the all-night diner, his were on fire. He’d been so controlled from the start, but now he was out of breath, gazing at me with wide, gleaming eyes. “Should we get out of here?”
“Yes, we should.”
Mark pulled out of the bar’s parking lot, and I followed his silver Lexus out onto the main drag through town. The piece-of-shit muffler on my piece-of-shit truck was extra loud tonight, and I hoped he didn’t notice. I didn’t usually, but when Anchor Point was this still and quiet, it was hard to ignore.
In my rumbling truck, I followed him to his place, and I knew after the first turn that he hadn’t been lying about living off-base. His house wasn’t just off-base—it was on the opposite end of Anchor Point.
Fine by me.
Fifteen minutes after we’d left, he led me up a short, curved driveway. He parked in the garage. I parked in the driveway. As we got out of our cars, I squinted up at the house, which was mostly visible in the glow of the floodlights. It was a little two-story house, gray with a white trim, and close enough to the coast it must’ve had a gorgeous view of—
Whatever. It was a house. And there was a bed inside where I needed to get Mark naked and sweaty.
The whole way up the walk, I prayed he didn’t offer to give me the grand tour. He paused long enough to unlock the door, then waved me inside, and before he’d even shut the door behind us, he wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me. So much for the grand tour.
I grabbed his ass in both hands as I kissed him right back, and he moaned softly against my lips. The kiss outside the diner had been a taste. Something restrained and calm.
Fuck restraint.
Fuck calm.
I forced his lips apart with my tongue, and I swore to God he pulled the air right out of me. We moved—kind of staggered—and Mark suddenly broke the kiss and went for my neck. His lips touched my skin, and I swore. I couldn’t help it. He had me so hard it hurt, and he was turning my insides to liquid with those kisses that were somehow both soft and needy. There was nothing tentative about his touch—every kiss felt like it was exactly as much as he wanted to give me in that instant. And every one of them almost turned me inside out at the same time it made me want to beg for more.
He growled against my throat and kissed my skin so hard I thought he might sink his teeth in. I tilted my head and hoped he would bite me.
His hands were in my back pockets. Mine were in his hair. God knew when they’d gotten there, but now I kneaded his scalp as he groped my ass and mouthed all over my neck. Oh yeah, breaking my own rule tonight had been a damn good idea.
“Should be some condoms in the bedroom,” he breathed. “Maybe . . . maybe we should get closer to those.”
I groaned softly, imagining being balls-deep in him. “Yeah. Good idea.”
We stumbled a few steps closer to the stairs, but there was too much kissing and groping going on to get much further. Fuck, his hands were strong, and I wanted them all over me. And I wanted to see if his knuckles turned white while he was holding the edge of the mattress and I pounded his—
“To the bedroom?” My words tumbled out.
Mark didn’t say anything. He took my hand and led me up the stairs.
We got as far as kicking off our shoes before we fell into bed together. Jesus, I felt like a teen
ager—too horny to think. God, this was hot.
“Clothes . . .” He tugged at my shirt. “Get this off.”
I nudged his leg so he’d let me sit up. Once I was upright, I started to pull off my shirt, but hesitated. I always hated this part. Especially when I’d been too caught up in groping him to shut off the light on the way to the bed.
Mark slid his hands over my hips. “What’s wrong?”
“I, um . . .” I swallowed as I combed my fingers through my hair. “I’ve got some scars. Just . . . just so you know.”
“Do any of them hurt?”
I blinked. “What?”
He ran his palms down my clothed thighs. “If any of them are touchy and you want me to avoid them, just say so.”
“I . . . No, none of them hurt anymore. I just meant they don’t, um, look so great.”
“Okay, then.” He shrugged, grinning up at me. “I just don’t want to hurt you. I don’t mind scars.”
Yeah, we’ll see about that.
Heart thumping, I peeled off my shirt and tossed it off the side of his bed. Before he had a chance to look at me, though, I leaned down and kissed him again.
Mark didn’t miss a beat. Instantly, his arms were around me, and he was kissing me just as desperately as he had a minute ago. His hands roamed all over my back and arms, so there was no way he didn’t feel the worst of the scars, but he didn’t flinch away from them. And it wasn’t like they weren’t noticeable. My whole left shoulder was like leather to the touch. If he minded, I couldn’t tell.
Ever since I’d recovered from the burns and surgeries, I’d hated being naked with someone for the first time. The sense of exposure was intense now that my skin was anything but flawless.
With Mark, I was aware of the exposure and of how self-conscious I was supposed to be, but I was too turned on to feel anything except cool air and white hot need.
I pushed myself up onto my arms. Damn, he looked good like this, flat on his back between my planted hands. “How attached are you to this bed?”
