Billi Jean

by Running Scared

  Russell seemed a lot happier. He’d not stopped kissing and touching her all day. He’d completely surprised her with a playful side. He laughed more, too. She’d found this new side to him reassuring on so many levels.

  “I thought you were going to sleep all day, honey. I wore you out.”

  A shiver chased down her spine at his deep voice. Holding in a grin at his boasting, she kissed his warm, tanned skin. “Huh, I needed a quick nap.”

  “Ah, I see. Didn’t wear you out, huh?”

  She giggled as the hand gripping her bottom tightened suggestively. His deep voice sounded hopeful now.

  It felt incredible to be in bed with Russell like this. Just being able to run a hand up his rippling abs was amazing. It was like she’d fallen into some dream, but not a dream she’d ever imagined because Russell, with all his scars and toughness mixed with sweetness, was simply more than she’d ever dreamed existed. His body was so different from hers. She snuggled closer and tried to soak up the fact that this was really happening. Who knew men were so much warmer? How was that fair? Bigger, better jobs, better opportunities, and they were naturally warmer? Fascinating.

  He reached a hand up and tipped her face up to kiss her when she didn’t open her eyes. He seemed to like to do that. Kiss her all the time. Varying his approach, hot and possessive kisses, then slow, gentle or barely-a-whisper kisses. She had to admit that was one of the reasons she probably wasn’t completely mortified by what they’d been doing. His gentle tenderness. It spoke to her of something more than simple sex.

  She hoped. Because basically, yep, all they’d done today was have amazing, mind-blowing sex. She still couldn’t believe it. She’d gone from no sex to so much she shouldn’t be wanting more, but she did. Who knew it was like those Lays potato chips? She wanted Russell—the whole bag of chips—as often as she could get him.

  Someone should have warned her about men like Russell Ryland. If there were other men like Russell Ryland. Such a big, strong man, a warrior really, but tender, too. And oddly serious.

  He hadn’t been teasing her about making her come until she was screaming. It was shocking what he could do to her body. And when he’d finally pulled out, she’d been only slightly amazed he was still hard. He was hard right now. He was like a big, solid pole against her thigh. For some reason she could tell the difference between his body and that particular part of his body. The skin was hotter than the rest of him, for one, but she also felt almost hyper-aware of that wonderful penis. Almost possessive, like she owned his long, thick member. But he wasn’t pressing her for sex, just holding her close for comfort. For him? Or for her? She couldn’t say. Maybe both.

  “Susan?” he murmured again. He sounded worried now, and she opened her eyes to see his grey eyes were full of concern. How had she ever thought his eyes cold?

  “No. I might have to take a rain check on that, though, big guy,” she told him, curling her hand around his erection because she could, and because it was fascinating. She slid a hand up his shaft and he made a soft grunt.

  “I like that, a rain check. Can you keep that up until then?” he said.

  She glanced up to see a smile tugging at his kiss-swollen mouth. He’d anchored an arm behind his head, his other hand still playing with her hair while he watched her with that killer smile. He smiled more now. She had to admit she did, too. Who wouldn’t? she wondered. Sex was so much better than chocolate. Whoever had started that rumour obviously hadn’t been having sex like she had.

  “Mmm, you like that?”

  His brows rose to his hairline, as if she’d asked something that should have been obvious. “Hell, yeah. Your hands on me? Yeah, I like.” He rolled his hips when he spoke, making her giggle. The man was something else. He was so confident, it was catching.

  She glanced up him and he winked. Shifting his hips up, obviously enjoying her hands, he groaned huskily. The urge to kiss him was too much, and she wiggled up a little to rub her lips against his rough chin. She trailed over his neck and behind his ear, finding a soft spot there that he seemed to like. Her hands tightened on his cock when it flexed in response to a nibble on his earlobe.

  He was so amazingly different from her, so strong, and smelt so good—a sharp pine scent mixed with warm man. She still felt awed at being able to simply touch and explore him like this, but the more she did, the more he showed her how much he liked her caresses. Not that Russell ever held back. The man was very free with what he wanted, what he liked. She doubted anything was off limits for Russell—if it felt good, he’d do it, and make her like it, too. A shiver of want bubbled up her body just remembering telling him to fuck her.

  Amazing.

  “Goddamn, that feels so fucking good.”

  She nipped his jaw just to hear him groan even more. His erection swelled under her hands. He liked it rough, Russell did, she thought with a thrill. She’d always thought she was waiting for the right guy to make her weak in the knees. Russell made her want to do things to him that had no business being in her brain to begin with. And worse, her stomach flipped a little with her thoughts, anxiousness rushing her body and making her flush. She barely knew him, had only known him for a little over a week, but this felt right. Was she easy, then? God, had it been the move, the attack, that had given her the need to feel this connection? And then in the morning—or rather, later today, since it had all started in the morning—would he leave? Only to ignore her in town except for a brief hello?

  A chill sent goosebumps up and down her arms.

  After dinner last night, she’d thought he’d held back because he wanted more from her. But now she was so confused, she had to wonder if this was all he’d been thinking about, after all. He’d admitted wanting to have sex with her since that first day.

  Remembering that sent a thrill through her.

  And more confusion. Last night, she’d feared him a bit for even thinking he wanted more. Now she feared him because he might only want this? She was really, really screwed up. Completely. And God, what had her father always said? Know a man a good long while, Lacey. If not, if you give him the goods, he’ll enjoy it but not respect you. Her dad’s way of saying, ‘why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?’ wasn’t helping with the unease trying to pierce her little bubble of happiness.

  She lingered over Russell’s throat, loving that roughness there, the sunburnt skin, a bit of bristle even here. He was panting, nearly as tense as he got right before some serious action.

  Had she given it away? No, she’d practically begged him to take it. Doing anything and everything he wanted. And—for better or worse, depending on how she was going to look at this—she’d loved it.

  “Sunshine, we’re going to have a bit more goin’ on here in about five seconds.”

  She nibbled his lip, kissing him briefly and moving on before he could take more. He gripped her bottom tighter, his hand beginning to caress her roughly, expertly making her temperature rise.

  Sex was so much better than she’d dreamed. So many things made sense now. So many people. No wonder girls made complete fools of themselves at the base, chasing after men. Chasing after men like Russell, whose lips were still swollen from her kisses, she noticed. She could only imagine what she looked like. But she couldn’t care less. This was too amazing. He was too amazing. And she was going to enjoy every moment of exploring his body like he had hers.

  “Is this a yes? God, I hope this is a yes.”

  “Mmm, a maybe?” She tightened her grip and smoothed her hands experimentally down. He grunted, then groaned when she stroked back up, lingering over every exciting inch of his velvety length.

  “Baby, if you don’t stop that you’ll need another shower,” he cautioned in a deep voice, followed by a groan when she gave his cock two firm strokes. Well, he certainly liked what they were doing, or what she was doing. He growled something funny, a half curse of her name, and she couldn’t help but tease him with a little bite on his shoulder. He groaned louder and his e
rection grew bigger in her hands, taking her mind completely off her slight soreness and right onto him again.

  “Oh, such a big bad major you are. Will you wash me up, too?”

  He groaned something about showing her major and gave her a play-swat on the butt. She sucked in a breath at how hot that little tap made her. Amazing.

  Giggling now, she let him tackle her down and take her hands off her favourite part of his anatomy. He seemed to like to be the one in control of this, she’d noticed already. That was fine for now, since he obviously had more experience, but she had plans for Major Ryland. He would be unravelling under her as much as she had under him.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, settling most of his weight off to the side of her, but still managing to keep her under him. He watched her, but bent to kiss the top of her breasts, nuzzling the skin with his jaw. He seemed to like every part of her. He’d certainly kissed every inch of her.

  “You. How controlling you are,” she added to see his reaction.

  Typically, he frowned, as if she was speaking a foreign language.

  “Very, very controlling,” she added, with a significant look at his hands holding hers above her head.

  He grinned, and his face seemed to lose so much of that stern, warrior look that her heart swelled and turned over. He looked so much younger and more approachable now than when they’d first met.

  “Just trying to keep you behaving. Aren’t you hungry, Sunshine?” He kissed her mouth softly.

  He was. She’d heard his stomach growling. “I might be. Are you offering to cook?”

  He lifted his head and gave her a wounded look. “Not if you want to live. Can’t cook worth beans. The men wouldn’t even let me.”

  She tugged at her arms until he let them go—reluctantly, she noticed. “I can maybe cook something if you let me up. And shower.” She was sticky in places that had no business being sticky. It actually should have freaked her out, but she liked it. Russell definitely liked it. She’d watched him run a hand up the inside of her thigh after he’d withdrawn, catching their mingled moisture and smiling briefly at the wetness on his fingers.

  “You’ve never been with a woman and not worn a condom?” she asked.

  Russell gave her a frown again. He was so sinister-looking with his bristle. It darkened his face, making his angular cheekbones stand out and his eyes appear a darker grey. Not that he scared her. Big, dark alpha SEAL that he was, she was under no illusions with Russell. He’d never hurt her. Not physically, at least.

  “No. I was always safe,” he said. “Now I can reap the rewards of my good behaviour, huh?” He nudged her thigh with his thick, velvety erection.

  Huh. Well, there was that. As long as she stayed on birth control. And seeing as how she’d had an implant that would last three years, and they’d had sex all day, bareback, she supposed they’d continue the same way. Would he be here in three years? Would she? Maybe this would be one of those wild sex weekends she’d heard about from friends. She already hoped it wasn’t. And last night she’d been scared he wanted more? She was losing it, absolutely. This was wonderful—it felt so incredible, but if this was all, if he said something like ‘I’ll call you’ or ‘see you later’, she knew she would be crushed.

  And that was frightening.

  But true.

  She’d survive it, of course, but if this was wild sex it would cheapen it. Maybe that was her inexperience. Maybe this was the way all little affairs went—hot, wild sex and then a quick goodbye. What if she actually got used to him being here, then it was over without any kind of real reason other than it was fun, but he didn’t want attachments? God, she was thinking this to death.

  “I’m not sure I like it when you get that thoughtful look, Sunshine.”

  He sounded like he wanted her to talk. He’d said that. Or he sounded like he wanted all her attention on him. Cute. But no way was she sharing with the big bad SEAL on top of her that she was freaked about what they were doing. So she watched him, running her hands through his hair instead of answering. It was cut short, but still thick and silky.

  “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked, resting his head on his hand. He brushed her hair off her forehead, watching her watching him. His eyes dipped down and his lips curved upward. She should have been embarrassed, but he obviously liked her body. All of it. It was impossible to feel embarrassed when he got that intense look on his face simply from her being naked.

  “How different we are. It’s fascinating. You’re so big and hard, rough.”

  Grey eyes jerked back up at her words. “I was too rough?”

  “No silly. You’re rough, not rough…” She took his hand and compared it to hers. His fingers were much longer than hers, and calluses marred his palm and fingers. He had small white scars scattered over his knuckles and the back of his hand.

  “Ah, well, I am bigger.” He nudged her with his lower body making her laugh. Sighing happily, she curled her fingers through his.

  “Yes, and don’t you know it, too.”

  “Damn straight. A man needs all of his advantages with a woman like you.”

  “What is a woman like me?” she asked, curious as to what he thought of her. He’d said she was beautiful, but he’d also been a bit out of his mind with lust, which was its own kinda compliment.

  Head on hand, he leaned on his elbow and watched her, his handsome face thoughtful. “Beautiful. So beautiful it hurts. You’re warm, sweet, too smart for those sexy jeans you wear to drive me nuts, and you’re about as stubborn as me. Not a good thing, by the way. Independent. You’ve got good taste in beer, food and men—since you’re with me.”

  Well.

  He grinned and tapped her nose, making her frown. “You look like I surprised you. I should have warned you, I don’t lie, Susan. If you ask me something, I’ll always be honest with you.”

  Well, what could she say to that? Was he wondering about her? Would he start asking questions that she couldn’t answer? She suddenly hoped not, with a desperation that frightened her. She was in deep. Too deep?

  “What did you think I would say?”

  What did I think he would say? She had no idea.

  Smart. Stubborn. Independent. Beautiful. All nice things. Amazing things, since he’d seen her leg and seemed to love to trace the scars there, and the one on her face. She should have been nervous about that, but somehow Russell made it okay. It wasn’t like Russell didn’t have his own scars—he had quite a few. Some were gunshot wounds, too. But she was a woman, and men looked better with scars. Women? Not so much.

  As if he were reading her mind, he reached out and traced her sunburst scar. “This bothers you. Tell me how you got it. I’m getting tired of asking, baby. I’m beginning to think you don’t trust me.” He settled closer, comforting her more than he knew with his arms around her, holding her gently. She could let herself believe he wanted more than sex when he surrounded her.

  But how much could she say to him? Share with him? Sharing created links to people, and if she gave some of herself only to have him leave when he had his fill, then what? It was too intimate to share her pain if he wasn’t going to be in her life. But wow, how could a woman know if a man was going to be in her life forever after one day of hot sex? She needed to grow up. Dreams were for girls, and she wasn’t one. Not any longer. Russell was here now, and she needed to stop with the worry and simply take what he offered.

  “I was in an accident. I got hurt pretty bad.”

  “Bad enough to cause this?” He brushed warm fingers over her thigh, tracing the pink lines gently.

  “Yeah.” When he simply watched her, she swallowed quickly and licked her lips. “My jaw was wired shut for six months, my leg broken in three places, a few ribs cracked, and the gash on my temple. I was in a coma for a bit. When I woke…” Pausing, she looked away from his intent eyes and focused on his rounded shoulders. So big. So strong. Her dad had been that way. Big and strong. It’d seemed impossi
ble her dad wouldn’t live forever. That he would get sick. So sick it had killed him.

  “Talk to me, Susan. It helps sometimes.”

  Meeting his grey eyes again, she saw compassion there, warmth, and something deep and dark. Pain. He had it, too. He’d lost his mother, his stepdad and a brother. He knew pain, and sometimes it was easier to share with someone who knew what pain really was.

  Again, she wondered what would come of this. Was this a typical affair? Sharing part of yourself? She felt a huge sense of unease trusting him with this, with her personal thoughts and feelings. But it also felt so good to finally have someone to share it with. Even if it wasn’t all of what had happened, at least it was part of it. But at the same time, it was too personal, too near to her heart. She almost growled in frustration. She was screwed up. She wanted him. Didn’t want him. Wanted to talk to him. Didn’t want to talk to him.

  “Russell…” Burying her face in his warm chest, she let him pull her closer. The emotions, always so firmly under control, tried to bubble over and spill out. “It hurts. It hurts still to talk, like if I don’t think about it, talk about it, I can pretend it’s all the same, you know? Pretend it will somehow…” Not be real. Tears began, then, slowly leaking out past her closed eyes. Her throat was clogged with them. She wanted to stop crying, more than half afraid her tears would take over and she’d not be able to stop. She hadn’t cried since that first week. Back then she’d been so weak, so shocked that all she’d been able to do was let the tears fall.

  “Shhh, then. Time helps. Give it some more time, baby. But nothing will make it the way it was before. Before your dad died, is that it?”

  His voice was like some kind of black magic, opening her soul and making her tears fall. How could he understand what it was like to fail someone so miserably? Russell had probably never let anyone down in his life. She hadn’t been able to tell her father goodbye. He’d died thinking he’d lost her. Her big, strong dad, always so protective, always so strong, unable to guard the one thing in his life he’d always tried to keep safe.