Cinderella Wore Combat Boots
Page 4
“I can’t hold off longer.” His hands found her hips and he thrust hard, impaling deep. “So damn hot.” She felt the moment he joined her in oblivion, when the wave of ecstasy took him. His cock throbbed, pulsing against the walls of her pussy. A growl rolled up from his chest. He rocked, pushing in deeper, locking them together as he came.
“My God, woman. I can’t get enough of you. I need more.” He rested his forehead to hers and looked her in the eyes. “What time do you have to report for formation in the morning?”
“Oh.” His cock began to get hard again. “I don’t,” she gasped as he pulled out of her and swung her around to walk her to the bed. “Officially. Retired. Tonight.”
“Plenty of time to show you every dance I know.” Sol lowered her to the mattress and removed the condom, replacing it with a new one. He tossed his jacket to the side and yanked his tie off. Next came his shirt. Sol undid the top button, cuffs, and pulled it over his head. He kicked off his shoes, sending them across the room. His pants were off before she could blink. The artificial limb was there, but it seemed a normal part of him, nothing that frightened her or seemed Frankenstein ugly.
He dropped down on the bed beside her and slid his hand from her thigh, along her torso and cupped her check. “You really don’t care, do you?”
“No.” Actually, she was more drawn to a nasty scar under his abdomen—the killer kind of injury. Cori touched the scar above his navel.
“Libya,” he said.
He reached out and stroked the pink ridge on her shoulder. “This?”
“Iraq.”
Cori dragged her finger along a jagged, pink ridge on his bicep.
“Somalia.” His hand slid back down her body and grazed her hip. He lowered his head and kissed across her belly to the dip in her muscle, where shrapnel had taken its pound of flesh. “And this?” he murmured against her hip.
“Afghanistan.”
“Um.” He feathered several kisses down the long scar. “I have a souvenir from there, too.”
She touched his shoulder. “This?”
“California—ex-wife.” He lifted his head. “She asked if I wanted a divorce a week after I caught her with my best friend. I made the mistake of being honest while she had a chef’s knife in her hand.” He shrugged at her surprised look. “She had issues. You’re the first woman I’ve been with since I lost my leg. My wife wouldn’t touch me—said it turned her off. So she sought the sex somewhere else. When I survived my injuries, she disconnected from me—mentally—physically. I can live without my leg, but I can’t live with someone who doesn’t love me or cheats.”
“Forget cheating.” Cori’s eyes widened further. “She stabbed you.”
“That, too. She had a temper.”
“What about your leg? Where did that happen?”
“I’d have to kill you if I told you.” His eyes sparkled. “Just kidding. A classified mission.”
“Was it successful?”
“My whole squad made it back alive—so, yes—successful, but it was a career ender.” He lowered his head and began to lave around her navel, slowly peeling her underwear off while he traveled south. Cori groaned and fisted his hair.
“Enough chitchat. Lie back and let me show you how the SEALs do a frontal assault,” he said as his tongue found her clit.
Epilogue
Two months later….
Cori shifted her pack and stared at the street signs as she climbed out of her pickup. After eight weeks hitting the pavement in her hometown, nothing she’d found for employment felt right. Her mind kept traveling back to the offer Sol had made her over dinner. You can come and work for me in New Orleans.
So she’d packed her pickup with everything she owned, grabbed a map, and drove all night, hoping the offer was still good. She eyed the card she’d carried in her pocket since the night he’d given it to her. The address matched. She hadn’t called, not wanting to take the chance he’d changed his mind. Perhaps she was crazy to come, but something told her the future waited for her in the building that looked like nothing more than any other warehouse on the wharf.
It had only been a one-night stand, and yet since they’d parted company, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She wanted to be a part of giving independence back to wounded vets, as well as preventing injuries like she and Sol had suffered, and she wanted more of him. One night would never be enough. Sol had put the life back in her, had shown her it was possible to move on and still do something she loved. She wanted to be a part of that—with him, and she’d never know what the future held unless she let go of the past. So there she was, on his doorstep unannounced. Crazy—yeah, most definitely, but she had to start somewhere.
She’d jumped feet first into the free fall. Hard or soft landing—she planned to make this the beginning of her new life. A hum from above drew her attention, and Cori looked up to see a camera focusing in on her. All eyes were on her. Too late to turn back if she wanted to. Sucking in a breath, she marched toward the entrance. Hopefully he’d been serious about the job because he was about to get an applicant.
She stepped into a small office and another reality. The high tech equipment made the office look like a future world. Hover furniture, digital readers on a coffee table instead of magazines. A receptionist looked up from a holographic, 3-D computer that spun images around on the surface of her desk. Posters of various products shifted from image to image, demonstrating their various purposes. The receptionist touched virtual buttons in the air and shut the program down. Freckles dusted the bridge of her nose and her red hair had been tied back in an informal ponytail. The corners of her mouth curved into a friendly smile. She looked too young to be a secretary. “First Sergeant Valentine. We’ve been expecting you.”
They had? Cori opened her mouth.
“Please follow me. Sol is waiting for you in your office.” She didn’t rise to her feet, instead she floated around the desk in a hovering chair, riding on a bed of air, and hit a button to auto-open a door. “This way.”
“Wait—my office? How did he know…?”
“…that you were coming? Now, that’s a mystery.” They traveled down the hall to an open door. “Uncle Sol has a gut instinct that has the whole family thinking he can see into the future and has some kind of woo-woo powers. Don’t know how he does it, but I’m going with psychic. This is New Orleans, you know, a city of voodoo and magic. Anything is possible.” She gave Cori a big smile. “I do know one thing, he likes you a lot. You got the best view in the building—over the marina, and he painted the office a Marine blue.” She laughed and waved Cori toward an open office door. On the door in bold letters, Cori Valentine, VP Protective Equipment Division.
“See—woo-woo. He knew you’d come.” She spun her chair around and headed down the hall. “Welcome to Serve and Protect. Dinner’s at eighteen-hundred hours. We’re having chicken. I’ll have someone take your stuff over to the house. We have guest quarters in the boathouse until you can find your own place or move in with Uncle Sol.”
My office? VP? Cori swallowed. Dinner? Move in? The funny thing, his niece’s statement didn’t bother her as much as it should. It was like she’d always been here—that she’d finally come home. She hesitated, not sure what to do. Just walk in? Well, her name was on the door. She bit her lip and looked down the hall where Sol’s niece had gone. Maybe this was too sudden.
“Come in, Cori. I’ve been waiting for you,” a familiar voice called to her. “We’ve got lots of work to do, and I have some ideas I want to bounce off you.”
She stepped through the door fate and 1NightStand had opened, no longer afraid of her future, but ready to embrace it and the man who’d decided to make her a part of his.
No, she didn’t need to be an active duty Marine to be a hero. She just needed to think like one, and that she could do. With the right partner—she could do the tango. “Let’s dance.”
~About the Author~
D.L. Jackson is a writer of urban fantasy
, science fiction, military romance and erotic romance. She loves to incorporate crazy plot twists, comedy and the unexpected into her worlds. As a U.S. Army veteran, she naturally adores men in uniform and feels the world could always use more. She does her part by incorporating as many sexy soldiers in her novels as she can. When she isn't writing or running the roads, you can often find her online chatting with her peers and readers. Grab a cup of iced coffee, pull up your virtual chair and say hi. She loves emails and blog visits from her readers.
Visit D.L. online at:
www.authordljackson.com
Table of Contents
Title page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue
~About the Author~