Big Bad Marine

by Jackie Ashenden

  Crossing over to the bed, she sat on the edge of it, facing the doorway. And because she was as nervous as hell and wanted to cover it, she risked another strike by giving him a wicked smile. “Anything you say, big man.”

  There was an intent silver glint in his eyes, a promise, a warning, and a threat all rolled into one.

  It went through her like a heated knife through cold butter and she couldn’t think of a single snarky retort when he said, “Stay here,” and disappeared back out the door.

  What the fuck are you doing? You can’t handle this and you know it.

  Rose rearranged herself on the bed, fighting the urge to get up and pace around the room. Maybe pace right out the damn door and walk all the way back to Austin.

  Except, hell no, she wasn’t going to do that. He’d been very clear about what he liked to do and she couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned. Of course that was all very well in theory; practice was an entirely different matter.

  Then again, when all you had was theory, what else could you do? You had to get some practice sometime, right?

  Anyway, she was strong. She could handle it. After all, she’d handled Mason.

  West is not Mason and you actually didn’t handle him.

  But Rose was done listening to her brain. Her heart was racing and no amount of telling it to calm down was making any difference. Her hand burned where he’d held it, the feeling of his calloused palm against hers lingering, making her wonder what it would feel like to have it on her skin, on the sensitive parts of her body…

  Oh, but there was no need to wonder. She’d find out soon enough.

  Rose wiped her palms on her jeans, debating whether to lounge sexily on the bed or get up and walk around. But her body had already decided and she was up on her feet, pacing the small room before her brain had fully had a chance to catch up.

  Then, way before she was ready, West was in the doorway, both their bags thrown over one of those massive, muscular shoulders, and he was coming into the room, shutting the door behind him with a very definite click.

  Locking them in together

  He stared at her for a long moment, and she realized she was continuing to pace and stopped. And she still couldn’t hear anything because of her stupid heartbeat.

  Shrugging the bags off his shoulders, West put them down beside a ratty pink armchair then sat down in it, his elbows on his knees. That glint in his eyes was impossible to look away from and it made breathing next to impossible.

  “You want to run away, darlin’?” he asked softly. “Feel free. I won’t stop you.”

  Two large hands had somehow wrapped themselves around her chest and were squeezing hard, forcing all the air out of her lungs. And there was a part of her that definitely wanted to do exactly what he’d said. Open that door and run.

  But she wasn’t going to, though she appreciated the offer.

  Rose stuck out her hip and lifted her chin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Are you sure? Sometimes consequences aren’t easy to take.”

  “Consequences? It was just a kiss, West.”

  His gaze pinned her, hot, silver, intense. “The consequences of playing your little games with a man like me.”

  The words shuddered through her and the fact that they’d already had this chat didn’t make any difference. She still blushed, embarrassment prickling all over her. “Game playing? I wasn’t—”

  “You know what I’m talking about. Those sexy looks you gave me, flirting like crazy. That kiss in the parking lot just now.” His voice was gentle, but the look in his eyes was not. “You wanted me, Rosie girl. But you didn’t come out and say it, did you? And that’s dangerous.”

  “D-dangerous?” She couldn’t help the stutter and instantly hated herself for it. “How is that dangerous?”

  “Because you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I told you, too. But you didn’t listen did you?”

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “You’re acting like I’m a dumb virgin and I’m not. I know what sex is all about.”

  West’s eyes glittered and her words suddenly sounded like empty bluster, her voice high and thin, and not all strong and confident the way she’d hoped. “Not this kind of sexy you don’t.”

  “I don’t—"

  “Come here.”

  She was walking toward him before she’d had a chance to think it through, coming over to where he sat in the armchair, feeling like she was walking into a tiger’s cage entirely naked, without anything to defend herself with. Totally at his mercy.

  She’d felt like that once before, when she’d gone to visit Mason to tell him to back off of Lily. That her sister might not want to go to the police, but Rose had no such problems. She’d always thought of herself as strong, but that night Mason had taught her that she wasn’t. He’d shoved her up against the wall and put his hand where it didn’t belong. Made her feel small and weak, and vulnerable. It hadn’t gone further, but only because someone had come to the door and he’d had to answer it. And she’d managed to stumble out the back.

  Running away like a coward.

  But she wasn’t a coward. And she wasn’t small and weak and vulnerable.

  She wasn’t a little girl. She was a woman. And it was time West O’Connor was reminded of that fact.

  West remained where he was, his elbows on his knees, fingers loosely interlaced, his gaze on hers as she came to a stop in front of him. “How many men have you been with?” he asked. “Apart from that one, I mean.”

  “Oh, a few,” she lied airily, hating the way she could feel her cheeks begin to heat. “I kind of lost count.”

  “Uh huh.” He straightened and reached out, gripping her by the hips and pulling her closer, so she was standing between his knees.

  Her heartbeat, already out of control, began to beat ever more wildly, her senses spinning at the feel of those big, warm hands. “Oh yeah,” she went on, trying not to sound so breathless. “You know how it is. I m-mean, after, like, thirty, who’s counting?”

  “Thirty, huh?” His fingers went to the button of her jeans. “That’s a lot of men.” With a casual flick, he undid it.

  Rose’s breath caught. So…what was he going to do first?

  “My hand. Your ass.” West said, apparently reading her mind as he grabbed the tab of her zipper. “In case you were wondering.”

  She swallowed, her throat absolutely dry. Well, he had mentioned that’s what he liked to do and that’s what she’d signed up for.

  “Okay,” she said unsteadily. “I can handle that.”

  West began to pull her zipper down very, very slowly. “Considering you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, I’m not sure that’s true. But I guess we’ll find out.”

  The denim loosened around her hips and she couldn’t seem to move. Or breathe. Or speak. Because his knuckles were brushing the soft, bare skin of her stomach as he drew the zipper down, a line of heat that felt like she’d been licked with fire.

  She gave a helpless shiver and West looked up at her, his eyes glinting. “There are consequences for everything, Rosie girl. And you’re about to face the consequences of not doing what the fuck you’re told. You pushed and pushed, and now you’re about to get what you wanted. Think you can deal with that?”

  No.

  “Yes.” The word didn’t sound as determined as she wanted it to, and she had the weirdest urge to look away from him. But she couldn’t. His gaze held her as surely as if she was a butterfly with a pin stuck straight through her middle.

  He gave a soft laugh, the sound all low and rough and sexy. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

  She lifted an eyebrow at him, desperately trying to get the upper hand somehow. “Now who’s playing games?”

  West’s mouth curved in the kind of smile that made her hot all over, then he glanced down at the open fly of her jeans and lifted a hand, brushing the backs of his fingers over her exposed stomach.

  She trembled, u
nable to help herself, her hands curling into fists at her sides, the touch setting every nerve ending she had alight. “Perhaps you’re the one who needs to be c-clear,” she went on, because she couldn’t shut herself up. “Talking about consequences and punishment, and all that bullshit. Let’s just have sex already.”

  The smile lingered around his beautiful mouth, as if he knew exactly how much crap she was talking. “You’re doing it again, darlin’.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Being a naughty girl.” He stroked her stomach once more, sending another shiver through her. “Not doing what you’re told. Pushing me.” Another stroke with the backs of his fingers, light and gentle, raising goosebumps. “Now, I asked you a question and I want the truth this time. How many men have you been with?”

  Rose couldn’t stop shivering and she didn’t know why. Just that simple movement of his hand, the feel of his skin on hers, was making her… Shit, she didn’t even know. She wanted to move, wanted to run out the door and yet push herself into his hand at the same time. It was confusing. Disturbing.

  This was not the way it had felt with her lone high school boyfriend, that was for sure.

  She swallowed yet again, trying to pull herself together and not melt into a puddle at his feet like the stupid little teenager she no longer was. “Does it matter?” she forced out. “Come on, stop messing around. If you’re going to spank me, spank me.”

  But West only turned his hand over and touched his fingers to the soft skin just above the waistband of her panties. A jolt of electricity shot through her, making her inhale sharply. Then his fingers moved down over the lacy cotton, stroking her gently through the fabric.

  The sensation was so intense she couldn’t move, her nails digging into her palms as he began to trace small circles over the front of her panties, passing agonizingly over her clit in light, teasing brushes.

  “I’ll spank you when I’m good and ready,” he murmured, circling over and over until she was nearly shaking. Then his hand dropped away and he looked up at her. “Anytime you want this to stop, you say the word and I will.”

  She was trembling and she knew he could see it. But she wasn’t backing down or giving in. She wasn’t going to let him have all the power here, no freaking way. “Do I look like I want you to stop?”

  “Oh darlin’, you will.” The smile that curved his mouth hardened. “You will soon enough.” He lifted his hands, sliding his fingers into the waistband of her jeans.

  Then he yanked them down to the tops of her thighs, taking her panties with them.

  6

  Rose gave a soft gasp, her body tensing. But he ignored her. He’d told her she could stop this whenever she wanted and she hadn’t wanted, which meant it was time for those consequences he’d promised her.

  Consequences that, if he was entirely honest with himself, he’d been dying to give her maybe even from that moment years ago, when she’d been eighteen and he’d caught her getting out of her jackass boyfriend’s car way too late one Saturday night. Her hair had been around her shoulders in a wild tangle, her mouth full and red, and she’d been tugging down her mini skirt as she’d walked up to the front door of her and Duchess’s apartment building. He’d been on his way out, Duchess having called him yet again to go find out where her little sister was, and he knew as soon as he’d laid eyes on her exactly what she’d been doing in the back of that car.

  Rose had given him a naughty wink, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she’d gone past him, and he’d caught the musky scent of sex trailing in her wake.

  It had hit him then, forcefully, that she wasn’t a sullen teenager anymore.

  He felt that same kind of impact now as he looked down, staring at all that pale, pink skin, the curls between her thighs the same pretty gold as the curls on top of her head.

  Holy fuck, she was perfect.

  Desire tightened its grip on him and this time he didn’t push it away. This time, he welcomed it.

  He glanced up at her again, studying her face.

  The flush in her cheeks made her eyes glow an even deeper blue than they were already. She had her hands in fists at her sides and she looked slightly dazed, but there was a determined slant to her chin.

  She was brave, he’d give her that. He’d told her what he liked doing to women, what he’d like to do to her, and she’d kept on pushing.

  Either brave or stupid.

  But no, Rose had never been stupid.

  He leaned in toward her, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of honeysuckle and feminine arousal. Fucking hell, she smelled delicious. He couldn’t wait to have himself a taste, and he would. Very soon.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded husky and shocked.

  Which he ignored, because seriously. If she hadn’t expected this then she was even more naive than she looked.

  Oh come on, you know she’s not experienced. Maybe she really doesn’t expect this.

  Yeah, well, too bad if she didn’t. It was time for her to learn. He’d told her she could stop this at any time and he meant it. And apart from anything else, if she really hadn’t wanted it, she wouldn’t have kept pushing him despite all the warnings he’d given her.

  Sliding the hand he had on her hip around to the small of her back, he urged her closer. Her skin felt like warm satin, the heat of her body surrounding him as he leaned in again, nuzzling against her stomach.

  She shivered, the sound of her indrawn breath loud in the room. “West?”

  A familiar calm filled him, the way he always felt when he was in charge of a woman’s pleasure, all his earlier frustration with her and himself draining away. In the back of his head, something was screaming at him that doing this with Duchess’s little sister was wrong, but he ignored that as well. If he wanted Rose off his back once and for all, he was going to have to go ahead and do this, no matter how wrong it was.

  You’re lying to me,” he murmured, brushing his mouth over the silky skin of her stomach, smooth and hot against his lips. “Don’t think I don’t know. But I’m in a generous mood, so I’m going to give you one more chance to answer me properly. How many men?” He didn’t actually care how many there had been – if there had even been any after that one dickhead she’d done in the back of the guy’s car – but he needed to know how experienced or otherwise she was so he could gauge how far he could push her.

  You kind of do care how many men.

  An unfamiliar possessiveness turned over inside him at the sly thought. Yeah, okay, maybe he did care. Maybe he liked the thought of her not being with anyone since that night he’d almost caught her with her boyfriend. Not that he any right to it, but still.

  He nuzzled her stomach again, feeling a light tremor shake her, tension stiffening her muscles as if she wanted to pull away from him. But he kept his hand in the small of her back, making sure she stayed exactly where she was.

  “Like I told you, a few,” she said huskily.

  Of course she wasn’t going to give in. She was strong, a fighter, and he respected that in a person, always had. It had been determination and strength that had drawn him into a friendship with Duchess in the first place and, now he that thought about it, that same strength was what drew him to Rose, too.

  Except in a very different way.

  He didn’t want to measure Duchess’s determination and strength against his own, not the way he wanted to with Rose. Because he didn’t want to be friends with Rose. He wanted to push her, test her. He wanted to fuck her.

  Glancing up again, he stared into her darkening blue eyes. “Here’s your first lesson then.” Keeping one hand in the small of her back, he lifted the other and gently stroked down over the soft curls between her thighs, watching as her eyes darkened even further. “There are consequences for lying, baby girl.” He stroked her again, soft and gentle, feeling the tremor of her response. “Want me to tell you what they are?”

  “I feel sure you’re going to tell me anyway.” Her voice had frayed but there was a no
te of defiance in it. “What’s happening with this spanking stuff? Or was that all talk?”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “Fuck, you’re a stubborn little thing. When I’m good and ready, I said.” Carefully, keeping his gaze on hers, he spread her curls with his fingers. “Just for that, you’re going to stand there until I’m done playing with you. You’re not allowed to speak and you’re not allowed to move, and most importantly of all…” He paused, lightly brushing the tip of his finger over her clit, watching as her eyes widened in shocked pleasure, her mouth opening. “You’re not allowed to come until I say.” Then he brushed the tip of his finger over her once again for emphasis.

  Her breath rushed out, the color high in her cheeks, her eyes getting wider and wider, as if she’d never seen him before in all her life.

  And she wouldn’t have, not this aspect of him. He’d always been her protector. The safe thing she could kick against when she was having a tantrum or when she wanted to test her claws.

  But he wasn't safe anymore. And he liked that, God help him. He liked it far too much.

  He circled the hard little bud of her clit, feeling another tremble shake her. She was so fucking gorgeous, all flushed and pink, dark blue eyes and open red mouth, her T-shirt pulling tight over her nipples, with her jeans and panties down around her thighs.

  She wasn’t sassy right now, none of those smart comebacks falling out of her mouth, none of those wicked smiles curling her lips. She looked…vulnerable. More like the sweet, young thing he’d always suspected she was than the naughty rebel she’d always projected.

  You know that’s what she’s really like. That’s why you kept away from her.

  Maybe it was. And maybe by doing this to her he was crossing a line. Because fundamentally, he’d always been a protector. That’s what he liked to do, that’s why he’d always found the military a fulfilling career.

  That’s why he’d eventually taken Duchess up on her offer of paid protection work, because after Carly, after he’d left the Marines, he’d had no one to protect, no purpose to his life.