Our First Kiss

by Judy Lynn Hubbard

  As her breathing slowed somewhat, all her dazed mind could register was that she felt wonderful and free. She didn’t know what Nathan had done to her, but she knew she couldn’t possibly experience anything like it again. He proved her wrong as his mouth and tongue replaced his hand, and he destroyed her until she was screaming and groaning in shocked pleasure, her hips lifting in wanton invitation to his seeking mouth.

  She didn’t realize he shifted off her momentarily to remove his pants and place on protection, and she was still trembling, eyes closed as his mouth snaked its way back up her quivering flesh until it was level with her own.

  “Marcy, open your eyes,” he whispered, and she fought to obey until she stared at him. “I need you.”

  “Take me,” she breathlessly offered when she could speak before hungry lips imbibed hers.

  She felt hands on her hips lift her, and then he slowly gently slipped into her, centimeter by centimeter, inch by wonderful inch. She gasped at the momentary sharp pain caused by the invasion of his hard warmth. He remained motionless for several seconds, only moving when she arched up bringing him deeper. He fought to control himself as she absorbed him, welcomed him and perfectly surrounded him. He shook with the effort to be gentle; she was so tight and felt so good, he thought he would die from pleasure. When finally he was completely within her pulsing depths, he began to move gently yet urgently. Her body met every thrust, and she whimpered in astonishment and pleasure against his mouth. By sheer will, he forced himself to go slowly as he took her soaring.

  “God, you feel so good,” he groaned into her ear before his hot mouth took up residence in the crook of her softly scented neck. “Perfect.”

  She would have spoken, but she couldn’t articulate. She couldn’t breathe or think. All she was capable of doing was holding on to her lover as they raced toward sweet fulfillment.

  Unable to help himself, he started to move faster, more purposefully, and she sprinted with him toward what she didn’t know. She was on the verge of dying from pleasure, and he held them both on that slippery ledge between reason and sanity for countless thrilling moments before finally thrusting them over the precipice into utter madness.

  Afterward, lying in Nathan’s arms, their labored breathing slowly returned to normal. “Mmm, that was delicious.” Marcy sighed, kissing his neck.

  “It was new,” he seriously replied, entangling his fingers in her thick hair as she kissed his chest. He had never felt this way before.

  “In a good way?” she spoke against his flesh.

  “In the best way,” he agreed, pulling her mouth up to meet his. Her soft, curvaceous body half lay across his as he feasted on her lips. “You’re not sorry?”

  “How could you ask me that?” she chided, tracing the outline of his lower lip with her tongue, which he captured with his teeth and used to bring her mouth back to his. God, he could kiss her forever and never tire of it.

  “Marcy.” He groaned her name.

  “Why did you fight so hard against something so wonderful?” she asked when she could speak and felt him sigh heavily.

  “My life is such a mess right now,” he slowly answered.

  “How so?” She propped her chin on his chest to gaze adoringly at him.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.” He braced for anger. He didn’t want to keep anything from her, but while he was still bound to his unit, he had to because his oath of allegiance and secrecy was something he could never break, not even for her.

  “I’ll wait until you can, then,” she calmly responded.

  “You’re not angry?”

  “How can I be angry after you just made me feel so marvelous?” She kissed his lips lightly, and his hands tangled in her hair, holding it away from her gorgeous, satisfied face.

  “You’re so special,” he again marveled, pulling her fully on top of him.

  “As long as there’s no one else,” she absurdly responded as she slid her body along his hard length, enjoying the differences in textures.

  “There is no one else for me except you,” he solemnly swore.

  Her heart nearly burst at his admission. “Then I can wait until you can tell me what’s bothering you.” She curled against him. “Nathan?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Was I all right?” She held her breath for his answer.

  “No.” Her head snapped up at his soft response.

  “No?” she responded, crushed. “What could I have...?”

  “Marcy, there aren’t any words to describe how wonderful it was to love you,” he interrupted.

  “Really?” All apprehension vanished at his words.

  “Really.” He kissed her lips softly, and she snuggled back against his chest, content.

  He held her close, hands running down her bare satiny back. She was wonderful; he didn’t deserve her, yet here she was with him, saying and doing all the right things. For the first time in his life, he hated his job—hated anything that would take him away from her.

  She sighed contentedly; she couldn’t help herself. How long had she dreamed of this moment? All of her life and as beautiful as her dreams had been, the reality had far surpassed them. She pressed her lips to his chest and felt the strong beating of his heart—a heart that she knew belonged to her now. He was everything she wanted, everything she needed, and she had no intention of ever letting him go.

  She had sapped his strength, yet he felt desire stirring in him again—desire and another strong emotion he was loath to name. His fingers entangled in her hair and pulled her head up until their eyes were level.

  “I want you again.” He spoke against her lips.

  “I want you, too—always,” she whispered.

  “I should let you rest.”

  “I don’t want to rest.” She managed to get the words out before his mouth engulfed hers, and he simultaneously rolled her beneath him.

  She protested when he rolled away for a second to place on a condom, but he was soon back, his wonderfully hard body pinning hers to the mattress. She gasped in pleasure when without preamble his body hungrily joined with hers. He took her greedily this time, wanting to be absorbed by her, needing to possess her wildly for fear she would disappear if he didn’t. She met him, matched him; her limbs pulled him tighter, her nails raked down his rippling back as his body continued to bombard hers, and all too soon, she began shaking violently as a blinding orgasm hit. He released her lips to bury his face in her hair, and she heard him call her name out hoarsely as he emptied himself into her. She held him tight as he trembled against her before finally stilling, breathing heavy against her neck.

  She had always known when she fell in love that it would be completely, but she’d never expected to fall so hard this fast. She was shaking not from cold but from the knowledge that she was desperately in love with Nathan. This was what she had waited her entire life to experience; he was the man she had been placed on this earth for. She loved him, and there was no doubt in her mind now that he loved her, too.

  She wanted to tell him how she felt, but she held back for now because she didn’t think he was ready to hear it. He needed to acknowledge his feelings for her first. Once he did, she’d shout her love for him from the rooftops; she couldn’t wait for that day to come.

  * * *

  Nathan lightly rubbed Marcy’s back as she slept, her warm soft body curled around his. He knew he’d never feel this content again without her lying beside him. He loved her with his entire heart. His fingers stilled at his monumental silent admission. He loved Marcy. He loved her with everything that he was.

  He wanted to wake her and tell her but knew he couldn’t—yet. When what he now knew was going to be his last mission was over, once he had freed himself from his duty and obligations to his country, when he was able to be completely honest with her, then he wou
ld tell her and that day couldn’t come soon enough for him.

  Marcy stirred and opened drowsy eyes when Nathan’s cell phone began incessantly ringing. It was pitch-black in the room save for the city lights shining through the partially opened drapes at the windows.

  “Forget about it,” she ordered, burying her face into his chest as he stirred.

  “I can’t.” He reluctantly extricated himself from her warm limbs and walked over to his jacket to retrieve the offending instrument. She sighed, annoyed, yet sleepily she enjoyed the view of his chiseled naked body.

  “Carter,” he snapped. “Yeah.” He glanced at her and walked into the hallway before resuming his conversation.

  “Who was that?” she asked when he returned minutes later.

  “Business,” he shortly replied, scratching his chin.

  “I thought you were on vacation?” She smoothed her hair out of her eyes as she watched him. He seemed tense. Had the call been bad news? What was suddenly bothering him?

  “I told you that I’m never really free from my job.” His voice sounded strange—strained.

  “Come back to me.” She sat up and opened her arms in welcome.

  “Marcy...” He stayed where he was, several feet away from her.

  Damn! Everything was nearly set for his deployment. They had located the camp where they believed the abductees were being held; they were just waiting for satellite confirmation. Once they had it, he’d be on his way to Yemen—and away from Marcy.

  “Nathan.” She unabashedly got up and came to him, taking him into her arms, and he crushed her to him. “Was it bad news?”

  He raised his head to stare at the torture evident in his eyes, “Yes, no...” His voice trailed off.

  Then before she could ask what was wrong, he kissed her desperately and held her as if he would be lost without her. Somehow they were back on the bed, and his hands, lips and body caressed her frantically trying to absorb the feel and taste of her. He seemed rushed, almost desperate. She wanted him to confide in her, but he seemed to need this from her more than words, so she gave him everything she had to give and more.

  He rolled until she was on top of him and sat up with her sitting in his lap. Without releasing her, somehow he managed to don a condom. Their lips never lost contact as his hands moved to her hips, lifting her slightly and then bringing her back down to engulf his hardness. Their bodies melted together—made for each other. Their lips echoed the frenzied movements of their bodies as they quivered, trembled and held each other tight.

  There was no talking with words, but there was moaning, gasping and sighing as they greedily gave and took all—everything, until he collapsed back against the pillows, taking her with him, still holding her tight—daring anything or anyone to try and take her from him.

  * * *

  In the morning Marcy slowly awoke with a smile on her lips. As her groggy mind began to function, she remembered why she was so happy; turning her head, she encountered an empty space where Nathan had been. She heard the shower running and got out of bed, stretched like a contented cat and walked over to the bathroom. She stood watching the fuzzy outline of Nathan’s splendid body through the glass of the stall before she tiptoed over, quietly slid open the door and got into the shower with him.

  “Marcy,” he groaned as her arms went around him from behind.

  “Good morning,” she whispered, kissing his wet back until he turned around and captured her lips with his.

  “Good morning,” he moaned against her mouth. “You’re hair’s getting wet.”

  “I don’t care.” She dismissed his words as her long tresses were pelted with warm water. She ran her hands up and down his arms, and her eyes focused on his left biceps. “I didn’t figure you for the tattoo type.”

  “I’m not really.”

  “Musical notes?” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you used to be a singer?” He made a comical face and laughed at her suggestion, and she joined him.

  “If you heard me sing, you’d never suspect that.” The tattoo had been specially chosen for his unit for its banality—who would imagine an elite commando would have such a tattoo? “I got it on a dare.”

  “From a woman?”

  He chuckled. “No, some guys I work with.” Everyone in his team had the same tattoo and how they had moaned about getting it—each wanted something fiercer, manlier.

  “I like it.” She traced her tongue over one of the symbols.

  “Yeah?” He liked it, too, now that she was caressing it.

  “Mmm-hmm—” her mouth moved to his chest “—it makes you seem unpredictable and a little dangerous.”

  His fingers tangled in her hair. “Just a little?”

  “Just the right amount.” Sultry eyes met his blazing ones.

  “Let me show you how dangerous I can be.” His mouth swooped down to capture hers, but she avoided him. “What?”

  “Are you okay?” She fingered his slightly stubbly cheek.

  “That’s usually the man’s line the morning after,” he quipped, soapy hands trailing over her.

  “You know why I asked that.” She sighed as his hands moved to her breasts then low on her stomach. “You seemed upset by that phone call last night.”

  “I’m fine,” he assured, caressing her mouth with his.

  “You didn’t seem fine last night,” she persisted. “Nathan, tell me—” Her words were cut off as his mouth pinned to hers.

  His hands moved to her hips, yanking until her legs encircled his waist, and he slipped familiarly and easily into her, backing her against a nearby white tile wall. His hot body slid maddeningly against hers; her water-slicked limbs pulled him closer. Water continued to pelt them as he filled her and she surrounded him. God, she wouldn’t have believed a body could withstand such intense pleasure over and over again; yet, as he had shown her last night and was expertly demonstrating again, it could.

  Their mouths hungrily feasted on each other’s before he released her lips to taste the slick skin of her shoulders and neck before seeking out her lips again. She was drowning, but she didn’t care. His hands pulled her hips tighter against his, and her nails traveled down his rippling back to his taut butt pressing him closer and closer.

  He took her, they took each other, until all questions he couldn’t answer were forgotten—everything was forgotten except the unbelievable pleasure mounting within and the unvoiced love overflowing from both of their hearts.

  * * *

  Marcy floated through the day at work having gotten there only an hour ago after she and Nathan had made love again. God, he was a fantastic lover, or was it the fact that she was in love with him that made what they had shared so special? She suspected it was a little of both.

  She was deliriously happy, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was troubling her man; since that phone call last night, he had changed, become more—brooding? However, every time she had tried to question him, he had silenced her most effectively and pleasantly. She would get it out of him eventually; she was after all known for her tenacity.

  Her phone rang, and she picked it up hoping it was the object of her thoughts. “Marcy Johnson.”

  “Hello, Marcy.”

  “Hi, Natasha. How’s married life?”

  “Wonderful.” She sighed happily.

  “How’s my brother?”

  “Wonderful.” Natasha’s voice grew even dreamier—if that were possible.

  “I am totally jealous.” Marcy chuckled.

  “Don’t be. Your turn will come soon,” Natasha predicted.

  “I’m working on it,” Marcy softly informed.

  “Really? Do I need to ask with whom?”

  “Nathan,” Marcy unnecessarily replied, closing her eyes as visions of him danced through her mind.
<
br />   “So things are going well between you two?”

  “Very well.” She paused before admitting, “Natasha, he’s everything I want.”

  “Then don’t let him go,” Natasha advised.

  “I don’t plan on it,” Marcy promised.

  “Good.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marcy apologized. “Here I am going on and on and you called me.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Natasha lightly admonished. “Damien and I just wanted to invite you and Nathan to dinner tonight.”

  “I’d love it. Do you want me to ask Nathan?”

  “No, I’ll call him. How does 7:30 at Thalia sound?”

  “Fine,” Marcy agreed. “Thanks for the invite.”

  “You’re welcome, and Marcy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you for caring about my brother. I have the feeling he needs you,” Natasha foretold.

  “I need him.” She paused before confessing, “I love him, Natasha.” She had to tell someone before she burst.

  “I know,” Natasha happily whispered. “We’ll see you two tonight, and we’ll work on getting that brother of mine to open up,” Natasha promised.

  “That sounds like a plan. See you and Dami tonight,” Marcy echoed as she hung up.

  About twenty minutes later, her phone rang again. She was deep in thought and started to ignore it, clicking keys on her computer furiously as a new strategy began forming in her mind.

  “Marcy Johnson,” she absently responded.

  “Hi, beautiful.”

  She immediately stopped typing and sighed. “Hi, what are you doing?” She reclined in her chair, and caressing the phone in her hands, she wished it were Nathan’s handsome face instead.

  “Thinking about you.” Her heart flipped in her chest.

  “Oh” was all she could manage, and he laughed softly.

  “Were you thinking about me?”

  “Always.”

  “Good,” he approved. “Did Tash call you about dinner?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Can I pick you up?” he offered.

  “You’d better,” she threatened. He laughed, and she closed her eyes, savoring the sound. She could feel his warm breath moving over her yearning skin—her face, neck, shoulders and breasts.