by JM Stewart
She eyed her reflection again, smoothing a trembling hand down the front of the light-pink blouse she’d put on ten minutes ago. Truth was, nothing about this fling was wise. After all, it was a complete detour from the reason she’d signed up with Military Match in the first place. Because she wanted what Lauren had found with Trent. What Steph had found with Gabe.
But she had to take the chance or live to regret it. She had no intention of letting Marcus become an “if only.” At least this way she’d come away with memories she’d look back on with fondness.
The doorbell sounded again, pulling her from her tangled thoughts, and she turned away from her reflection, trotting barefoot down the hallway to the apartment entrance. She stopped a moment to draw a deep, calming breath, then pulled the door open.
As expected, Marcus stood on the other side. Hands tucked in his pockets, he looked delicious in a pair of well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt that molded itself to his upper body. He smiled, heat flaring in his eyes. “Hey.”
Feeling too much like a child on Christmas morning, she barely managed to stand still and fisted her hands at her sides. “You actually came.”
One dark brow rose. “You doubted?”
She could only shrug, heat creeping into her cheeks. Okay maybe she had. She’d had a week to ponder this moment, to drive herself crazy. So many of her dates from Military Match had failed and her ego had taken a beating. She hadn’t expected her plan to seduce him to actually work.
He stepped over the threshold and pulled her close, then leaned down, hovering over her mouth. Every breath teased her skin. His heady scent curled around her senses. “Then you should know I’ve spent the last week with a hard-on. Every time I think about you, about this, the damn thing pops up. Besides, I believe I owe you an orgasm.”
A hot little shiver meandered its way down her spine, landing straight in her panties. Her clit throbbed in delicious anticipation. “What did you have in mind?”
His mouth brushed hers, so lightly she lifted onto her toes, leaning into him in an effort to get more of him. What she wanted was for him to claim her mouth. To leave her delirious and breathless, the way he had in the bathroom last week. He seemed to have his own ideas, though, because he hovered beyond reach, sipping here, tasting there. Always light, like he had all the time in the world to do only that.
“You said you thought of this as like living a fantasy. I say that’s a good idea, playing out fantasies.” His gaze flicked to hers as one finger stroked the shell of her ear. “Tell me your favorite.”
She nipped at his bottom lip. “Clearly you haven’t been listening. You.”
The left corner of his mouth hitched. “How, exactly, angel?”
A quiet, ragged breath escaped her. He had her eating out of the palm of his hand, and the cocky gleam in his eyes said he knew it, too. Damn, he was potent like this. “Any way I can get you.”
He rocked his hips against hers again, pushing a very solid erection into the softness of her belly. “Tell me how.”
Her fingers curled against his chest. “Your hands. Your mouth. Your cock. Any of it. All of it.”
“Details, please. You said you thought about me last Friday night.” He leaned his mouth beside her ear, his voice a hot whisper against the sensitive lobe. “When you slid those fingers into that hot little pussy, what were you thinking about?”
“God, I love it when you talk to me that way. Your hands. You have fantastic hands. Strong and masculine, and you have these wonderful, rough calluses. When you slid your thumbs over my nipples?” She closed her eyes for a moment, immersing herself in the memory that filled her thoughts. “God, it felt incredible. So last night I imagined you sliding these warm, rough fingers over my clit.”
A thoughtful little hmm of pleasure vibrated out of him. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, eyes heavy-lidded and hotter than hell itself. “You thought about me last night?”
“I couldn’t help myself. You got relief at the barbeque. I’ve been simmering on a low boil ever since.”
He drew a sharp inhale, his nostrils flaring. “Damn. You’re killing me here, angel. Now to decide…what to do with you…what to do with you…” His voice came low, his gaze following the tender stroke of his thumb across her lower lip. After a moment, he lifted his head and peered around him. “Do you have a full-length mirror?”
She frowned. Where was he going with this? “Yes. On the back of my bedroom door. Why?”
“I have an idea. Come on. Let’s go see about repayment.” He brushed his mouth over hers, little more than a lingering tease, then took her hand and strode toward the back of her apartment. Halfway there, he passed her dining room and stopped. He stood staring for a moment, then hooked a chair in his free hand and continued down the hall.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
He shot a wink over his shoulder. “You’ll see.”
Everything from the neck down trembled as she followed him. How many times over the years had she fantasized about exactly this? That he’d lead her to her bedroom and strip her naked. In those fantasies, he always teased her with those strong hands and that sexy mouth.
God. The simple thought of being pressed against his bare skin had everything below the belt hot and molten, yet every step made her knees shake. For all the wrong reasons. Nervous, antsy reasons that gave her the vague sensation of being a virgin. Like she had no idea what the hell she was doing. It was one thing to pick up a lover in a club. There, she could be whoever she wanted to be. Girly and coy. Confident and carefree. Aggressive and dirty.
But Marcus knew her. He’d seen her in grease-stained jeans, a baggy T-shirt, and no makeup, and somehow, he was still here.
It would be miracle if she didn’t make a dork of herself and scare him off.
Once inside her room, Marcus closed the door, strode about five feet, and set the chair down. Then he moved to stand behind the chair and rested his hands along the back. “Perfect.”
She followed his gaze to the mirror, and a hot little shiver rocketed down her spine, landing in her quickly dampening panties. Their reflection gave her an inkling why he’d brought the chair, and her imagination took that little tidbit and ran with it.
“Somebody has a kinky side.” She grinned and sauntered in his direction, making sure to add some extra swing to her stride.
An action he most definitely caught, for his gaze dropped and his nostrils flared. God, she’d never get tired of that look. Not many sober men looked at her that way. Like she was beautiful.
His gaze flicked to hers again. He shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes as he met her around the front of the chair. “I’m not normally, but something about you seems to bring it out in me.”
When she stopped in front of him, he snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her against him. She settled her hands against his chest, his body warm and deliciously solid beneath her palms. She ought to say something seductive, keep the thread of conversation going, but her brain shorted and all she could think of was “Hi.”
“Hi.” His intense gaze scanned her face as his fingers stroked torturous circles over her lower back. “I have to admit, now that I’ve got you here, I suddenly can’t think for the life of me. Least, not about anything except stripping us both naked, tossing you onto that bed over there, and sinking into you.”
Her core throbbed in eager anticipation, and Mandy smiled. She shouldn’t say the words seated on the tip of her tongue. It was teasing. Neither could she resist.
She slid her hands up his back and pressed closer. “I believe I’ve told you this before. You wouldn’t get any arguments from me.”
“Don’t tempt me, angel. You’ve had me wound up for days.” He growled low in his throat, an entirely male sound filled with frustration and needs denied. His big, warm palms closed over the globes of her ass, and Marcus tugged her hard against him. He bent his head, teeth gently nipping at the muscle where her neck met her shoulder. “I’m not sure I c
ould be gentle with you.”
The image filled her mind’s eye. This big body pinning her to the mattress as he surged into her so hard her headboard knocked the wall. A quiet moan escaped her. God, he was so potent like this, almost arrogant, playing the bad boy. Marcus was a SEAL, polite and honorable to his core, which meant this cocky show was all for her, and the knowledge had her clenching in need.
“I won’t break, you know.” She sagged against him and rocked her hips into his. Damned if she could resist the pull of him. “A little roughness in the bedroom can be fun.”
Marcus chuckled, the sound little more than a sexy rumble against her throat, and lifted his head. His eyes filled with a mix of desire and amusement. “Is there anything you haven’t tried?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but Marcus silenced her by claiming her lips. There were no tender sips this time. Instead, he cradled her head in his palms, tilted it to the side, and plunged in. Nipped with his teeth. Sucked on her bottom lip. He possessed and demanded a response, and she was helpless to do anything but give him one. Mandy fisted her hands around his T-shirt to keep herself upright and gave as good as she got. God, the man could kiss.
When she was a puddle at his feet, he finally released her, and she opened her eyes. He had the nerve to wink at her. “Well. Now I know how to make you properly submissive.”
While some part of her brain urged her to toss something cocky back at him, all she could do was stand there and try to catch her breath, to get her legs to hold her upright. All sensation had pooled between her thighs. Heat prickled along her skin. Her nipples tightened to the point of aching. One kiss and he had her eating out of the palms of his hands, his to do with as he pleased.
And that damn grin said he knew it, too.
She sighed. “Marcus?”
His gaze dropped, following the torturous stroke of his thumb along her now sensitive bottom lip. “Hmm?”
“Naked.” She settled her hands on his lean hips for leverage and lifted onto her tiptoes, catching his bottom lip between her teeth. “Now.”
“I’m sorry.” The impish glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t sorry in the least as he skimmed his fingertips along the outside curve of each breast. “Am I driving you crazy?”
A wave of heated, shivery goose bumps moved over her skin, from the point of contact outward. A quiet gasp escaped her, and damned if she could stop herself from leaning into his touch.
She dropped her forehead to his chest with a quiet laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. You win. I give.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help teasing.” He chuckled again, looped his arms around her, and ducked his head. His voice came as a hot murmur against her ear. “I happen to like the playfulness between us.”
So did she. Getting naked with a man for the first time could be damn nerve-racking. That it was Marcus made it even more so. His teasing, though, disarmed her and made her feel comfortable with him.
Not that she’d tell him that. It would only serve to pump his already inflated ego. Instead, she smoothed her hands over his chest, found his nipples, and stroked her thumbs across the hardened tips. She’d always wondered if they were sensitive. There was something so sexy about a man with sensitive nipples. When Marcus dragged in a hissing breath, triumph surged through her system. Oh, she’d have fun with that.
He lifted his head, eyes narrowed in playful retribution. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Promises, promises.” She pushed her breasts into his chest and tipped her head back. “Now, please. For the love of my sanity. I’m yours. Whatever you have planned? Get on with it. My panties are soaked. I ache.”
“Minx.” He groaned and brushed his mouth over hers, then released her. After taking a seat in the chair, he waved a finger at her. “Shirt. Off, please.”
She cocked a brow and planted her hands on her hips. “I suppose women always do what you tell them to?”
The corners of his mouth twitched, but to his credit, he didn’t grin this time. “Yes. Now, if you don’t mind, take it off. I can tell you aren’t a wearing a bra, and I’d like to see those gorgeous breasts I had my hands on last weekend.”
The hunger in his eyes made her obey. Gaze locked on his, she gripped the hem of her shirt in trembling hands and pulled it off over her head, dropping it to the floor at her feet. “What now?”
He didn’t say a word. Rather, his hot gaze skimmed her body. She fisted her hands at her sides, forcing herself to stand there and let him look, but her stomach clenched with nerves. God, she hated this part, waiting for a man’s reaction to seeing her naked for the first time.
“Fucking incredible.” The words left his mouth on a murmur as he reached down and adjusted the distinctive bulge in his pants. Seconds ticked out as he stared before his gaze finally returned to hers. “Jeans next, please.”
Her breath caught. When he looked at her like that, she actually felt beautiful. Not the small, defeated girl inside, who’d been laughed at and tossed aside one time too many for enjoying the things boys did. Sports. Cars.
Mandy nodded and reached for the button on her jeans. His gaze took in every one of her movements as she opened the button and slowly pulled down the zipper.
Remembering all the wiggling she’d had to do to get into these pants, she stopped there and moved to stand between his knees. Without his help, she’d make a complete and utter dork of herself, but if she played her cards right, maybe she could make this something sexy. “I can’t take these off without sitting down. I’m going to need help.”
He nodded, and she gripped the waistband, pushing her jeans down her legs. Then she laid a hand on his shoulder for leverage and lifted a foot. Marcus skimmed his hand down her thigh and into her pant leg, pushing it down and over the curve of her heel, then held his hand out for the other. When he pulled her second leg free, she kicked her jeans aside and stood, letting him look again.
Like last time, he sat back. His gaze raked down her body, then stopped at the level of her hips. Softness and heat mixed in his eyes as he fingered the edge of her panties. “I like these.”
The panties she’d donned this morning were a more feminine version of men’s boxers. She wasn’t a girly-girl when it came to underwear. She preferred comfort. Every once in a while, though, she wanted something that made her feel pretty. This pair was the best of both worlds. The heat in Marcus’s eyes made her suddenly glad she’d splurged. “Me too.”
The corners of his mouth twitched as he settled his hands on his thighs. “Now take them off.”
She swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat, pulled out her confidence, and saluted him. She managed to shimmy out of her panties without falling over and tossed them at his chest. When they landed in his lap, she fisted her hands at her sides again and waited. She was completely bare before him. For the first time. He had a view of every curve, every lump and bump. Now she had to watch his reaction.
Sucking up the last of her courage, she moved to stand between his knees again. “Whatever are you going to do with me now, Mr. Denali?”
A slow grin curled across his face. He grabbed her by the hips and turned her back to him, then pulled her onto his lap. As she settled against the warmth of his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and ducked his head. “Payback.”
The husky, almost cocky timbre of his voice sent a shiver raking through her. Her breathing hitched. Her pulse beat a staccato. Mandy swallowed to wet her dry throat and nodded in the direction of the mirror. “So what’s that for?”
His nose nudged her earlobe, and his hands skimmed across her abdomen, over her mound, and down the front of her thighs. He gripped her legs, lifting and opening her as he set them on top of his. Then he rested his chin on her shoulder, his low growl rumbling against her back.
“Tonight is all about you, but it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun in the process.” His stubbled cheek rasped hers as he nodded. “Look.”
She turned her head, peering at their reflections in t
he mirror, and her earlier nerves flitted away. With her legs straddling his thighs, she was essentially opened to his gaze. It suddenly made sense what he wanted, what he got out of this. He wanted a ringside seat to her pleasure. They really did have the same kink. He was a watcher.
She dropped her head back onto his shoulder, limbs limp and heavy as a need moved through her, so keen her clit throbbed. “God.”
“I take it you approve?” His lips closed over her earlobe as he skimmed his fingertips over her body. Up over her mound and her belly. Around the sides of her breasts. So lightly every part he touched set fire to her nerve endings and sent a shower of heated, shivery goose bumps along the surface of her skin.
She let out a garbled moan, gripped his right thigh and squeezed, using the solid feel of him to anchor herself.
He chuckled in her ear. “Thought you might.”
As his large, warm hands moved along her skin, every muscle in her body tensed, waiting, anticipating his next touch. He took what felt like forever simply stroking her body, exploring her but never making contact with where she ached for his touch the most. He caressed her inner thighs, thumbs grazing her slit so lightly her legs trembled. Walked his fingertips around the outsides of her breasts and around the tops, skimming her areolas but never touching her painfully erect nipples.
She let out a quiet moan and squeezed his thigh again. “Touch me.”
He nipped at her earlobe. “I am.”
An impatient, frustrated growl escaped her. She took his hand, guided it down her body, and curled his fingers over her mound.
He chuckled. “Desperate, angel?”
God that nickname. To call her angel when they were teasing and flirting was one thing. But here? When she was naked on his lap, spread out for his viewing pleasure? It made her shiver. That name on his lips gave her a sense of possession.
She released his thigh and turned her head, rested her forehead against his cheek. “Marcus, please. You’re killing me. I’ve been wet since you got here.”
