“While you were in the Navy?”
“We were SEALs by then.” Cocky, know-it-all, tougher-than-shit SEALs. “One of the guys handling the stock bragged no one could ride Daisy, not even us.”
“Why name a bull Daisy?”
“Good question, but that bugger sure didn’t like it. He was the meanest SOB behind the rails.”
“And you were the meanest on the other side of the rails. Let me guess. You took the dare?” Melissa leaned back enough to look Tucker in the eye. “Seriously?”
He couldn’t lie. “I never said I was smart, babe. Younger then, but yeah, it was the longest ten seconds of my life.”
“Did you get hurt?” Of course she would ask that. Empathy ran through Melissa like the lost vein of gold in the Sierras.
“Just my pride. Old Daisy put me on my ass before he kicked up his heels, then he spun around a couple times like he was part tornado, and came at me with his horns. I swear they were ten feet long and sharp as sin.”
“Are you done taking dares, Tucker Chase?” She took his breath and all of his heart away with that quiet question. Why did it feel as if he were on the edge of a monumental precipice, staring death—and life—in the eye again? Maybe taking the biggest dare of all?
He gave her what she needed to hear. “Yes, ma’am, I am. With you I am.”
Tucker shoved out of his boots and pants. He pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it into a pillow for Melissa’s head. With infinite tenderness, he gathered her into his arms and undressed her with the reverence of a monk. This was the right woman. Finally. He meant to make her his slowly. Tenderly.
All the way...
Chapter Seventeen
She loved his mouth. The smoldering taste of him lifted goosebumps up from her skin like a magician with a wand lifted playing cards from his deck. He commanded her soul with a brush of his whiskered lips, or the slick heat of his tongue over the seam of her mouth, so insistent and gentle and demanding.
Nearly ruthless. He’d framed her head, his forearm at one side, his palm cupping the other while he took control, his body a wall of sheer muscle. So warm. So Tucker.
He was her exact opposite and her one true complement. The male. The dominant. The alpha protector. She would always be the female half of the equation, the nurturer and the bearer of his children, the willing accomplice to all his craziness. His anchor. And she loved him. She didn’t want him any other way.
He held her immobile while he nibbled at her lips and explored her mouth. The farther his tongue ventured, the harder her stomach and that deeper, other part of her anatomy clenched. Her womb. Need for him flickered into a voracious appetite, then hunger. She meant to take it easy on him. The poor guy was black and blue and bruised all over. He still couldn’t open one of his eyes, and she was fairly sure he might have a broken rib, but this man... she’d wanted him this way for far too long, and honestly, he didn’t seem to mind her hands wandering over him.
Skin to skin wrought waves of sensual sensations over her naked body. Shivers raced up the inside of her thighs, up her spine, and over her shoulders. She arched as his palm covered her breast, his thumb strumming her nipple while he made love to her mouth. Her fingers tunneled into his thick, black hair, holding his head.
She’d expected a wild and crazy rush of hot, heavy sex, not gentle lovemaking so deliberate and slow that she ached for more. Desire dripped from her core, needing him to extinguish the flames he’d lighted, but he took his time. Was he doing this to torture her on purpose? Did he know he held her in the palms of his hands—that she was on the verge of combusting?
He drove her insane with his delicious mouth, her lips bruised with pleasure before he trailed a liquid line of molten lava straight down her centerline to her full breasts. The sound of his groans of satisfaction when he covered one nipple with his wickedly warm mouth sparked a surprisingly wanton side of her. She wanted him to taste all of her. Her knees parted, not waiting for encouragement.
His whiskered face crinkled into a smile against the tender skin of her breast. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he growled, his breath moist and hot and melting her to her core. More sizzle.
She could barely whisper, “You. Inside of me. Now.”
Another smile grazed her nipple, but the man was taking his time and making a feast out of her while he dallied. He made love languidly, deceiving her yet again while his fingers wandered lower. Lower.
Melissa arched her back, needing him—there. Trembling with a desperate appetite to be loved. “Please,” she begged, her voice tight and needy, her body on fire. “You’re torturing me.”
“Not yet I’m not,” he whispered, his mouth at her ear again and his fingers working magic. “I’m not going to rush this. I’ve waited too long.” He strummed her most feminine desires until she was taut with need, lifting her butt off the ground with lust while he took possession of her mouth again. “Is this what you want, baby? Is this what you need?”
“More,” she breathed into his lips, aching for him.
“Soon,” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper, pushing her closer to the edge.
Enough! She bucked him off and rolled him to his back, straddling his hips, and thrilled at the surprise written on his rugged face. She’d put it there. He might have expected a nun because she’d certainly portrayed herself as such over the past year. Not anymore.
“You want to play?” she taunted, the curtain of her hair creating a secret world of just him and her.
Black eyebrows lifted, then dipped to a salacious, smoldering V. “Woman, I’m not playing,” he growled, a tremor of danger in his tone as his palms gripped her, his fingers splayed over her butt and his thumbs digging into her hips. “Keep teasing me like that and I’m going to spank this bare ass of yours. Trust me. I play for keeps.”
Ah! Her entire body clenched with arousal. Her sweet patient lover had just turned into a tiger. She groaned at the notion of being turned over his knee. How dare he? But, ahhhhh. How dare he...
She let the pleasure of the spicy threat shift up her spine while every muscle southward clenched in anticipation, and she could wait no more. With a quick whimper, she plunged her body onto his, impaling herself, filling her tight female core with the rough friction of him. A needy moan lifted up from her gut. He fit tight, deep, and right where she’d wanted him.
With her hands pressed to his chest for balance, she lifted up on her knees to view the advantage she had while she still had it. Wide and muscular, she could barely straddle him. Dark, coarse hairs sprinkled his chest before they narrowed into a line down his belly and below. Eternally cocky, he seemed coiled and ready to pounce. His neck was thick, and the fingers kneading her backside were rough and callused.
Tucker Chase was danger in its most primal degree. Deep. Dark. Damaged with all she still didn’t know. Sensually, sinfully wicked. Less gentleman. More bad boy. And all hers.
His fingertips fluttered on her bare bottom. “Don’t stop now,” he urged, his eyes narrowed and black with lust.
She had to say it before her heart burst. “I love you, Tuck. I love you so much.”
He growled out a delicious, “You have no idea how much that pleases me,” and set the rhythm, his hands on her hips holding her in place while she rode.
She knew it then. Brady might’ve been her first, but Tucker would be her last.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, not even if he tried. From the sway of her curvaceous hips to the swing and bounce of her plump breasts, she was everything he needed and more than he deserved. A goddess of silken honey with a hint of tease. Ambrosia and manna to a dying man lost too long in the desert. She was rain on parched lips, life-giving, life-saving rain, and sunshine pouring down on him.
And she loved him. He’d known it before she’d ever said it, before she’d stepped one foot out of her clothes. It was written in the moon glow in her eyes. The tender lilt in her sexy voice. The blatant come-hither dare in the tilt of her chin. He
let her play, knowing full well he’d never be able to live if he let her go.
Just before her legs stiffened, just before she climaxed without him, he tucked her into his chest and rolled her over. He seated himself deep inside her sweet body, home at last, and not going to forget this perfect moment in a million years.
She moaned and writhed beneath him as he began their ascent again slowly, then built up to the sweetest... highest... pinnacle of sexual glory. He gave her his all when her muscles contracted around him, a glove so tight he felt every last vibration thrumming through her fierce, feminine body. The rumble of every delightful moan she uttered, every last aftershock clutching him.
He suffered the roar in his heart as stars burst over, around, and through him. Lightning and thunder filled the air and he felt like a god at the power of his coming. Never had he soared so high and been so humbled at the same time. He owed it all to Melissa.
She hadn’t screamed like other women, but groaned, her heels dug into the backs of his thighs, grinding against him for every scintillating touch. When he was certain she’d finished round one, that she was safely back to earth and her ten-second ride complete, he bowed his forehead to hers, his unruly bangs flopping over her face and into her eyes. He kissed the tip of her pert nose, breathing hard, but not quite ready to break into two halves yet. One was so much better. He would live inside of her forever if there were a way. God knew he wanted to. This was what he’d been missing. This woman right there.
“Mine. All mine,” he vowed. “You’re all mine, and I’m never letting you go.”
The sassy woman had the nerve to giggle in his face. “Who says I’d leave if you were dumb enough to let me?”
He’d lowered his body to her side before he saw the teardrops clinging to her lashes. “I love you, woman,” he ground out, his heart suddenly stuck in his throat at the gift she’d freely given him. Men were such base creatures, inclined to rut like animals and content to live like pigs. But Melissa sparked a need deep in his core to be a better man. To protect her with every beat of his heart and every breath of his worthless life. To love this woman in the way she needed to be loved. “Don’t cry.”
She ran the back of her finger under one eye, wiping a tear. “I can’t help it. I’m...” She gulped. “...happy. I never thought it could be like this.”
He fought the urge to ask her if he was better than Brady, but tugged her under his chin and against his heart where she belonged instead. He didn’t need to know which of her lovers were better. It didn’t matter. He had her now.
Tucker drew Melissa into his arms, her back to his front, and they talked for hours by the side of the creek. No subject was taboo. He answered her questions about Nicole, and he didn’t mind hearing about Brady and their short, tragic marriage. How they’d honeymooned in Cancun. How much he’d loved his mom and dad. How he’d doted on Melissa, and how hard it had been for him to come home a lesser man.
“The thing is, he was still my Brady even though he could barely move,” she said quietly. “He told me to file for divorce when he first came back, that I needed to find someone better and let him go, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I loved him, Tucker. I’m sorry if I’m rambling on about this, but I loved my husband. I truly did.”
He kissed her bare shoulder, trailing a path up her neck to her ear, somehow the second luckiest guy in the world because of Melissa. “Brady was a good troop,” he murmured at her earlobe. “Trust me. I never met the guy, but I’ll bet he’s still on duty. He’s still looking down on you, baby. He’s got your six. Why wouldn’t he be? That’s what I’d be doing.”
She shivered. “I think you’re right. There have been times I was sure I felt him near me.”
“See? What’d I tell you? Jarheads don’t know how to quit, even when they’re dead. They’re dumb like that. He’s still hanging close, making sure you’re in good hands.” Tucker clenched his fingers around her breasts to make sure she knew he had a good hold on her.
Melissa pulled his arms tighter around her. A deep sigh escaped her body. “This is crazy, huh? Me talking about my husband after we just made love.”
He lowered his nose to the sensual crook of her neck, that tender spot where he was lost in blonde tangles and soft skin, and he planted a kiss. The warmth of her lush body against his was working its magic. She had to know he was ready for round two. “I don’t know about that. Most people go through life and never find the right person. You’ve found two of us. I’m proud he took good care of you for me.”
“Me too,” she said on a long sigh.
The fireflies had drifted away, but the moon smiled down behind them, its reflection glimmering in the ripples in the creek. Tucker tossed a bug he’d caught walking over the poncho into the water. Immediately, a foot-long silvery devil breached the surface and gulped the insect down before it could drown. A life for a life. The circle of life. Just plain life...
Melissa giggled. There was that little-girl quality again coming to the surface. He nestled back into her neck. “How big of a wedding do you want? Are we talking the National Cathedral or the White House for a venue?”
She rubbed her cheek against his forehead. “Small. Just you and me and our closest friends.”
“Huh. That won’t be very small. I’m a Navy guy, remember? I belonged to a fleet, and I’ll bet your parents are dying to show you off. You’ll be a beautiful bride. They’ll want to put you in all the papers. McCormacks will, too.”
“But it will be our wedding,” she emphasized. “What do you want?”
Good question. Good timing. Tucker turned her to face him and covered those pretty lips with his mouth, needing her to know that it all started there and then. He meant to live for her. Every day. “You tell me,” he said as he eased away from her wet lips. “I’m just a guy. What do I know about weddings?”
She rubbed the tip of her nose to his. “You know you love me.”
“I do,” he agreed wholeheartedly.
Her brows raised. “And you promise to love me forever.”
“I do,” he agreed again, his heart climbing back up his throat.
“You may now kiss the bride.” She lowered her lashes and pinched her lips together, ready for that kiss.
“Did we just get married?” he teased just before he covered her mouth again.
She mumbled, “Uh-huh.”
Enough said. He rolled her onto her back and thrust himself back into her slick, secret place. When she groaned at the first thrust, he asked, “Do you promise to love, honor, and obey me?”
Melissa looked up at him with moonlight in her eyes. She clamped onto him with her core muscles, surprising him with her womanly strength. “I do love you, but I’ve never been good at that obedience thing. I can’t promise that, but love and honor? Oh, yes.”
“Listen up.” He thrust again. Harder. Needing to brand her, deeper and deeper. She needed to be sore and marked and his. All his. “Exception noted. Do you promise to bear all my future children and light my fire?”
She squirmed, her fingers gripping his chest muscles and her temperature rising. “Like I’m lighting your fire now?”
He poked her yet deeper. “Stick to the vows, woman,” he ordered playfully, his heart back on the line. “Just say ‘I do’ or ‘I don’t.’”
Another wiggle and a moan and an, “Umm, yes, I do-o-o.” She drove him crazy the way she fit him like a glove, clenching so tight, he nearly lost track of what he meant to say. “I’ll bear all your children, and I’ll love the son you have now, and I will most definitely strive to light your fire every day, sir.”
Sir? He liked the sound of that, but he knew better. This woman was no simpering weakling without a mind of her own. She was tough. From this moment forth, Melissa would be the first and most important boss in his life. She’d forever rule, and he’d be thankful to serve her. To tickle and please her. To prove himself worthy of her in every way.
He got lost in kissing and nuzzling her ticklish neck for a m
oment before he said, huskily, “I now pronounce you mine, Melissa McCormack Chase. All mine. Forever and ever—”
“Amen,” she breathed.
Chapter Eighteen
Despite the raucous birds in the trees that should have awakened her, Melissa still slept. Tucker kept his arms protectively around her at daybreak. She’d turned into him during the night, her breath on his collarbone and her soft bare breasts mashed against his chest. Sweetest thing for a guy like him to wake up to, the pliant body of the sleeping woman he loved more than life itself lying soft and warm in his arms.
They hadn’t gone back to the fireside, just lingered out of sight. Isaiah was already up and about. Tucker could hear him breaking camp, but Tucker wanted one more stolen moment. He pressed his lips to Melissa’s forehead, loving the salty taste of her mingled with the scent of him on her claimed body.
It would’ve been heaven in paradise if the hairs on the back of his neck hadn’t lifted on end. If acid hadn’t poured into his gut. He covered the back of her head with his man-sized palm, his nerves on full alert and his eyes on the jungle. “Isaiah,” he called to his right-hand man.
“Already on ’em,” came the quiet affirmative. “Four big guys with face paint closing in on our position. Not Vietnamese Army regulars though. These guys are quiet as shadows. Might be Americans—they’re big enough. Stay down.”
Not going to happen. Tucker shifted to one knee at Melissa’s side, his left hand holding her flat to the ground, his right swinging his rifle into his arm. He dressed hurriedly. Frightened deep, dark eyes riveted to his. “We’ve got company,” he whispered in her ear. “Get dressed. I need you up on your knees, baby. Get ready to run.”
“Not if you want to live,” a gruff male American voice rumbled at his six.
Tucker rolled to his butt shielding Melissa, his rifle dead in the center of a face smeared with black and green paint. This guy had gotten too close too fast. Who the hell did that? “Back off, Siegel!”
King of Hearts (Deuces Wild Book 1) Page 17
