“That’s not always a bad thing.”
Her hands were on his chest. “Happened after I met you. Time for a new start.”
“Sounds impulsive. Like stealing my car.”
Yes, it was. She hadn’t managed her personal life that way for a very long time. Not since she’d married Aaron on the spur of the moment. She’d gone for a much different kind of man after him. Non-military. Law-abiding. No troubled past.
She hadn’t wanted another military man in her life, but here he was, in her apartment. Breaking and entering in order to see her. Kissing her.
She could feel the sheer strength in his body, pulsing in waves while still giving a sense that he could stay like this, silent, steady, powerful, for hours.
His training would have added to that skill, but this was a man cut out for the job since forever, rough and ready enough to make her heart pound crazily from the second she’d opened the door to find him there, sitting in her favorite chair, in the dark. As if he belonged.
She wanted him to belong here, while at the same time she wondered if Nick could or would ever allow himself to belong to anyone.
Could she? She’d always told herself that she’d do anything in order to find the right man.
There was no reason to play coy—she knew what he wanted. More so, she knew what she wanted. The fact that he was here told her what she needed, and she didn’t want him here for Aaron, would’ve been disappointed if he’d been here for anything but her.
“I wanted to kiss you last night,” she murmured, feeling incredibly bold. “Wanted to lay you back on the hood and take off your clothes and just take you, right there…”
“Why didn’t you?”
Good question. As she mused, he began unbuttoning her shirt, easing the fabric aside as he worked. He pushed it off her shoulders and undid the front clasp of her bra with one finger—and oh, God, what a skill that was. Her nipples, already hard from his touch, grew taut when the air hit them, and as he worked down her pants and thong, Nick studied her, a small smile of appreciation breaking across his typically reserved features as he gazed at her body.
She expected him to say something, to give her some kind of compliment, but he didn’t. Not with words anyway, but he held her hips and put his mouth down on one nipple and it was all over.
Before she knew it, her clothes were in a puddle on the floor and she was naked in his arms, her bare body rubbing his fully clothed one while he kissed her again. It felt so dirty, so right, with her nipples taut from the delicious friction of his leather jacket and cotton T-shirt.
She responded by kissing him back, then losing herself in the way his mouth took possession of her taut nub, his tongue stroking and sucking, and God, she wanted that tongue everywhere.
She clawed at his shoulders, managed to yank off his jacket and began to pull his shirt up as well. He took his mouth off her nipple only long enough to let her pull the shirt over his head before he was teasing her again. In that brief space of time, she’d taken careful note of the bruises and scratches that ran along his chest—they hadn’t been there last night. And although they didn’t appear to bother him, she still tread more lightly as she stroked her hands over his broad shoulders.
He pulled away from her touch almost immediately.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I want to feel you, Kaylee. Really feel you. It’s not going to happen like that.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me. Or at least try to,” he rasped. “Dig your fingers in… yeah, like that. So I know you’re touching me.”
Her hands gripped him tightly on his shoulders, yanked him toward her, and he responded by kissing her again, hard, fast, taking her down to the floor in a quick and surprisingly gentle movement. The carpet tickled her back as his weight pressed her, his jean-covered thigh working between her legs in a firm back-and-forth motion until her hips rocked to his rhythm.
“Do you like that, Kaylee?”
She could barely talk, just gripped him harder, which in turn made his thigh work her faster. “I… like …”
“Good. Then come for me. Right now.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn’t ready, but his fingers had joined his thigh, strummed her clit lightly and then with a long, circular stroke that made her belly tighten and her sex contract. A long moan escaped, and she closed her eyes and held on to him as her orgasm crested.
“I told you I could make you come. That’s all I’ve been thinking about—making you come, over and over.”
“More. Please,” she murmured against his neck.
“I thought you said you didn’t like military men.”
“I don’t—I didn’t,” she sputtered, realized she had no leg to stand on while her body was still rocked from her orgasm, while he continued to stroke between her legs and she was responding again.
“But you like what I’m doing.”
“Yes.” Oh, God, yes. If he stopped… she didn’t want him to stop at all. “I likeyou , Nick… don’t you dare stop now.”
Judging by the heat coming off his body, the way his erection pressed, rock hard against her belly, he wasn’t planning on it. His eyes had gone hot with desire, the way they had last night.
He chuckled softly as he picked her up off the floor and walked with her into the bedroom.
Kaylee Smith was more dangerous than any claymore he’d come upon, and yeah, Nick had just found her trip wire.
She lay on the bed below him, her hair splayed out on the pillow, her body open and inviting, a sex flush across her chest and breasts. He could lose it by looking at her, and so he’d stripped himself down in seconds and she was holding him the way she had before—hard, her fingers rubbing his biceps, his chest. Yanking his head down so she could kiss him, andoh, fuck yeah , this was good. Better than good.
She tasted tart and sweet, like black cherries and sugar, and he wanted nothing more than to explore her body fully, to take the time to go inch by inch.
He did, studying her as he would a map—licking her contours, memorizing freckles that mapped a scattered path down her stomach to the small soft triangle between her thighs. And when he pushed her legs apart, her body bowed instinctively toward his. His mouth met her sex and she cried out, tightened her fingers in his hair and held him there as he took her with his tongue, stroking her in the hot, intimate place that made her shudder with orgasm.
And as much as he got off on giving her pleasure—because there was nothing better than hearing a woman, especially this woman, calling out his name like she couldn’t get enough—he needed more. His own skin pulled tight, blood rushing to every stimulated muscle and nerve ending as he climbed back up her body. He wanted in—slid his cock into her slowly at first, until he was sheathed to the hilt, her body accepting him with a hot throb.
“Feels so good, Nick,” she murmured, her arms thrown above her head in sweet surrender. He captured her wrists, held them there as his body shuddered and he plunged into her again, letting himself go over the edge, losing himself inside of her for just a few seconds. Letting his guard down.
Fuck, it felt good. Better than good, better than any sex he’d had in a long, long time.
Her orgasm seemed to spread outward to encompass her entire body—every muscle shook and shivered and grabbed him where he needed to be grabbed, and he held her and went along for the ride. Her body arched up powerfully into his, her thighs locked tightly and she contracted around his cock as one orgasm rolled into another. And for a second, he was merely an observer, watching her beautiful face contort with pleasure, realizing that it was partially him that was causing this and partially some kind of intense chemistry that the two of them had, something he’d felt the second he’d met her.
Which was crazy, since she wasn’this girl. He didn’t have a girl, but now he had a bucking, gorgeous woman who pulled him toward one of the hardest, most satisfying orgasms of his entire life. And she wasn’t done yet. Not nearly done.
/> CHAPTER 6
Afew hours later, Nick lay on his stomach, his cheek buried in Kaylee’s pillow, his face turned toward her. She had one arm up over her head, the sheet only partially covering her, and there wasn’t a hint of self-consciousness about that.
“So, do you do this a lot?” she asked.
“Have sex?”
“Break into women’s apartments.”
“Not usually.”
“I’m glad you did. I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.”
“Look, I don’t do things like this—I’m not into relationships or the long haul.”
“Oh. Okay.” Now she moved to pull the sheet up over her, the mood broken.
He reached out for her hand, stopping her. “That didn’t come out exactly right.” Not that it ever did, really. But for some reason, this time, his usual bullshit one-night-stand speech didn’t feel right. “Women make things… complicated, and I don’t have time for any kind of personal life.” Or the clearance. Sex was easier. No need for high priority classification. Just one night of pleasure and no explanations necessary.
Besides, marriage, any long-term relationship, was out of the question for him. How the hell was he supposed to commit to someone he could only share half his life with? He could never reveal his past to them—could never get beyond that trust issue. And so he’d always be hiding a part of himself that, as much as he tried to brush it off and pretend otherwise, was very real. Very persistently a part of him.
He couldn’t pull that kind of deceit on someone he was supposed to love. So it was always much easier not to get involved, to play the field, to pretend that he didn’t want anything more than a roll in the hay. And most days, he believed his own bullshit, which helped a lot.
Fuck, he came with a lot of baggage, even without his family background. His medical shit alone—the touching thing could really make women look at him like he was a complete freak if he spent a lot of time with them.
He was used to being touched by now, at least the normal, everyday touches like the pats on the back. Fortunately, there wasn’t too much hugging in his profession on a day-to-day basis.
With sex, it was different. He was never sure if it was because it was the ultimate intimacy, but when a woman touched him, he craved more—wanted it harder, rougher.
He didn’t want to think about the fact that Kaylee hadn’t blinked an eye when he’d asked her to touch him hard. Of course, the longer he stayed, the more she’d question it. Women always had a lot of questions.
“I’m guessing you’ve got a lot of women after you for more than one night,” she said finally, without guile. “There’s something about a man in uniform.”
“I usually don’t tell women what I do for a living,” he admitted. There were too many SEAL groupies out there—and many of those women wanted to try to trap him into marriage by having his baby. Of course, he never bothered to tell them that would never work—years of childhood illness, coupled with radiation, had rendered him sterile.
Kaylee already knew he was a SEAL—in fact, his military career seemed more of a detriment than anything to her.
“I don’t like to lie. I tell women the truth. Normally, before things get too far.” He’d tell them straight up that he’d be with them for a few hours or the whole night—if they were able to keep up with him. But he didn’t do sleepovers, mainly because he didn’t sleep or cuddle. He’d figured that the lack of sweet talk—all thehoney, baby bullshit—would make things easier on him. Instead, it always seemed to backfire and he ended up with women convinced they were the ones who could bring him to his knees.
And Kaylee was still lying next to him, her head cocked to the side as if she could see straight through to the wheels working in his brain.
He really didn’t like that at all. “I usually don’t spend the night,” he said finally. “I mean, I didn’t plan on it.”
He waited for her to get upset or pissed or have any of the typical reactions he’d gotten over the years. But none came. Instead, she simply said, “I’d like you to.”
And then her hand went to the back of his neck, fingers working in a strong rub that shot straight through to his dick. “I mean, it’s almost morning anyway,” she continued, and yeah, it was already close to threeA.M. “And I don’t think we’ll be doing too much sleeping.”
He rolled off his stomach and pulled her body against his. When he noted the flash of ink, he turned her quickly to study the intricate black tattoo of a tiger along her lower back. “No, definitely no sleeping,” he murmured as his fingers traced the design, the way he was going to do with his tongue in seconds, and contented himself with that deception—that this didn’t really count as spending the night—and wondered why it was so easy to accept.
He leaned down and grabbed his discarded T-shirt from the floor before he turned Kaylee over in his arms, trapped her underneath him once again.
She looked surprised when he used the shirt to tie her wrists to the bedpost. It wasn’t a hard tie, but it still left her comfortably immobile. It was what he’d wanted to do before, but she’d touched him so well he hadn’t allowed himself the luxury. But now, now he could take his time, and she smiled and relaxed even as her cheeks flushed.
It was her first time being bound like this during sex—he could tell by the way her body attempted to anticipate where and when he’d touch her, the way she jerked her wrists occasionally in response, forgetting momentarily that she was held open to him.
His hands slid down the length of her body, capturing the curve of her hips in his palms and dragging her pelvis into his. Within minutes, he’d rolled on a condom and was buried deep inside of her, his cock vibrating inside her wet heat. He wanted to go slow with her, but they had all night long—hours and hours that he didn’t want to spend thinking about tomorrow or the next day or the next.
He closed his eyes for a second, opened them to find her watching him intently, a wide smile of pleasure on her face as she came. “Yes, Nick, please.”
Yes, he could please her, but there was no promise here. He ached at the thought, made him realize that he’d been right to push away the possibility of relationships all those years.
And still he forgot about all of that when he came hard enough that his dick ached and his body relaxed into hers.
“I liked that,” she sighed.
“I noticed.” He forced himself onto his knees, rubbed her arms for a few minutes as she looked on him with sleepy, satiated eyes.
“Not yet,” she murmured as he went to untie her.
No, not yet, his body agreed instantly.
Hours longer than he’d planned on staying, Nick was still in Kaylee’s bed.
He blamed the tattoo.
“I got it a few years ago,” Kaylee explained. She was on her stomach; he was on his side next to her, unable to stop tracing the delicate but bold design, complete with tribal markings. “I wanted to do something different, something just for me.”
“It’s nice.”
“Not everyone thinks so.”
“Yeah, well, fuck everybody else. You’re the one who counts, right?”
She laughed, a low throaty sound. “I like the way you think. Sometimes I worry that I’m too much in the moment—I see, I want, I do, you know? I guess I don’t see the point in wasting time. I’m a first-instincts kind of girl.”
He understood, was driven by his compulsion, a need to kick it faster, harder, to top himself every time. To take risks.
To take everything to the extreme.
Kaylee was one of those extremes. She had the same revved-up drive. But being here with her, his need for anything beyond just this canceled itself out. He didn’t know how that was possible, but it was. Living proof stretched out next to him, and no, they hadn’t done any sleeping. Their sex was hot and rough and perfect—at this point, he shouldn’t be lying here in the bed with her, just before dawn. He should be up and out, moving on.
Her index finger reached out to tou
ch the scar he’d shown her the other night, but more hesitantly, and he grabbed her wrist to stop the touch.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s all right. Not a big deal—it’s just numb,” he lied.
“You said the other night that it didn’t hurt badly,” she said finally.
“Not at first. At first, you don’t even realize it, especially if you’re knee deep in the action. Your adrenaline’s going, your mind is on other things and your brain shuts down to the possibility of pain.” He wondered why the hell he was telling her this, and then realized he’d already shared more of himself with her than he had with most people who’d known him since he entered the military.
“Auto-pilot.”
“You’re so intent, so focused on what’s right in front of you that you don’t have time to look down. And then you start to feel these warning tingles. You ignore them. Tell yourself,This isn’t really happening.” He paused, locked onto her eyes, the deepest shade of blue he’d ever seen, next to the water at high tide, and just as beautiful. “By the time you admit to yourself that it has happened, it’s too late to do anything but curse.”
She smiled. “Which I’m sure you did.”
“Especially because I’m not exactly the best patient.”
“I can’t imagine you being forced to sit around for any length of time without taking some kind of action.”
“I can do it if that’s what the job demands.” He shifted reluctantly away from her body. “I’ve got to go.”
He dressed quickly, grabbing his clothing where he’d tossed it the night before. Phone and beeper had been quiet over the past hours and he double-checked them to be sure while Kaylee walked past him, still naked, and rifled in her closet until she pulled out a short white robe.
He thought about staying longer, putting off what he’d promised himself he’d do, because he was much more about pleasure than punishment. But he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t keep his promise.
While he washed up in her bathroom, he noted a large diamond engagement ring sitting casually by the sink, mainly because he’d almost knocked it to the floor when he’d grabbed a towel. He walked out with it in his hand. “You probably should keep this in a safer spot.”
Too Hot to Hold Page 5
