Her Shifter Soldier (BBW Erotic Romance)

by Jackie Sexton

  Her Shifter Soldier

  Jackie Sexton

  Smashwords Edition

  All Rights Reserved ©2014 Moon Flower Press. First Printing: 2014.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Her Shifter Soldier

  Jackie Sexton

  Chapter One

  I couldn’t spend another second looking at his photograph. He was hugging a small, African child who was grinning with all her might next to the handsome soldier. But I knew what he really looked like beneath that heavy, khaki camo. Years of hanging out on my father’s ranch, watching him build a shed or tame the horses, led me to to an intense appreciation of the male form.

  Dalton Jacobs glowed like an angel—a sexy, golden angel with a six-pack and a no-nonsense, tough guy persona. My heart pounded harder in my chest just thinking about him and how I was going to see him in just a few hours.

  “Looking at the picture again?” my best friend and sole confidant Shannon chided. I turned and scowled at her, quickly slamming the photo album shut. I wanted to pretend like it didn’t affect me, but she knew better. It wasn’t like she couldn’t hear my heart pounding across the room, desperate to see his handsome face again.

  “It’s not like that,” I mumbled, flushing red.

  “Uh huh,” Shannon called from the kitchen, rummaging around the shelves for a mug. “That’s why your hair is down and not in its usual business bun.”

  I quickly pulled the elastic band from my wrist over my hair, gathering it into my typical up-do. I hadn’t meant to make my efforts so obvious. I just wanted to look casually nice, like, seeing-an-old-friend nice.

  An old friend who was incredibly hot.

  “No leave it down! You look so gooood,” she moaned, flouncing down at the breakfast nook table across from me, coffee in hand.

  “I’m sure I look silly,” I mumbled, patting down any potential fly-aways and avoiding her gaze.

  “You’re a kindergarten teacher, not dead,” she sighed, obviously exasperated with me. “How are you going to get that hunk of a man to fall in love with you if you don’t?”

  “Shannon,” I growled, “you know Dalton is just a friend. Nothing more.”

  “Ugh, what a waste.” Shannon took a long sip of her coffee, which I saw as the perfect opportunity to slip into the kitchen myself. If I could occupy myself with a cup of tea, maybe there was a chance she would drop the topic and move onto something else.

  “Are you excited for your new job?” I called over the kitchen bar as I set the kettle.

  “Yes, but don’t change the subject. Why won’t you give Dalton a chance?” she pressed, turning around to scrutinize me with her pretty blue eyes. I dropped my gaze onto the olive green kettle and stayed quiet for a moment. The truth was I couldn’t just say it. The awful truth was too much—it was a thudding ache in my chest, a small rodent slowly clawing its way through my heart.

  My brother Eric was dead thanks to some secret terrorist organization in the heart of Africa. He was never coming back, and I couldn’t hold servicemen any closer if I could help it. It was a matter of self-preservation. It wasn’t about whether I could love Dalton or not.

  As if she read my mind, Shannon’s voice became gentle and soft like fleece. “Don’t let what happened all those years ago keep you from something beautiful.”

  Tears brimmed in my eyes, and I turned around to wipe them away. I hardly wore any make-up, but even the lightest brush of mascara would look like insane torrents of muck against my alabaster skin.

  I held my arms stiffly to my side, remembering my brother’s warm, inviting face. He always had a smile on, one that shone so brightly it could put the sun to shame.

  Except for the day we buried him. Then his eyes were shut, his wonderful, deep brown windows to the world, out like snuffed candles. He wasn’t the man I knew, so full of life and love. He was nothing but a corpse, ready to take to the earth as its final destination.

  “I’m sorr—” Shannon started, but then there was a neat, hard-fisted rap at the door. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly reached for a paper towel to dab at my pathetic, tear-stricken face.

  “I got it,” Shannon said quickly, and I could hear her chair skit across the linoleum floor.

  I quickly checked myself in the back of a spoon, appraising my distorted reflection for any signs of mascara tracks. It shouldn’t have been him so soon, and yet I had the feeling it was by the excited tone of Shannon’s voice.

  “Jessie are you...indisposed?” Shannon called back to me. Shit. It was definitely him.

  “I’m...fine!” I called back, straightening out the hem of my floral dress. I suddenly felt self-conscious of such a feminine choice—I usually wore dark jeans and a button up shirt, keeping it plain and professional just in case a six-year-old decided to smear glue on me.

  I heard the heavy clicking of his boots and inhaled sharply.

  “Jessica,” Dalton said, his voice even and yet filled with a deep, resonating desire. I felt my knees weaken and raised a palm casually, my hands clamming like I was a kindergartener myself rather than a person who taught them.

  “Um, hey,” I replied like a dolt, denying the true extent of my affection. Because more than anything I wanted to wrap my arms around him and press my lips to his, stare into his flecked hazel eyes for eternity and feel the strength of his taut muscles beneath my palms.

  You know, normal, platonic stuff.

  “So…I have to go to work, but why don’t we catch up for a drink later? Does that sound good to you guys?” Shannon asked casually, pulling her black barista apron from the back of the chair and tying it around her waist.

  “Sure,” I said, my mouth and throat going dry. I could tell that Dalton was simply unable to answer her—he was completely taken by me, like no other man ever had been. But that was always the strange, unbelievable dynamic between the two of us.

  Shannon nodded and left, excusing herself with very little fuss and a surprising amount of tact. Of course that left me feeling awkward and tense, alone with the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on.

  “So, how was your flight?” I asked, walking slowly around the kitchen bar towards the nook area, a nervous smile plastered across my face. Dalton didn’t answer me. He just stared me down with his heavenly eyes, like light filtering through maple syrup. I tried to think of something to say, but he took several large strides towards me, enveloping me in a passionate hug.

  His hard body crushed against my plush curves, and I relished in the heat between us, the space between my thighs going damp with desire. As much as I denied his affection in the past, I hadn’t seen him in over a year. Feeling the hard stone of muscle wrapped around my body was akin to dying and going to heaven. At least if it isn’t like that, then I don’t want to go.

  “Jessica,” he murmured into my ear, sending an electric shudder down my spine. It was all he had said in the few minutes since he arrived, and yet it communicated more than years of conversations and dozens of letters. I fought the lump forming in my throat and just told myself to accept the moment—to be happy. He pulled away to look at me, his heavy brows knitted in concern.

  “You were crying,” he said sternly, his eyes searching my face.

  “No,” I lied quickly, my cheeks turning crimson. Then I noticed a scar running down the length of his left cheek. “What’s this?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I trailed a finger along the ridged abrasion.
>
  “It’s nothing.” It was like he was still trying to find the hidden tears on my face. “I made it out alive.”

  I then remembered what Dalton had told me in his letters, about the terrible attack on his base and how several men in his platoon died, with others severely injured and maimed. He didn’t mentioned that he had been hurt, probably because in his eyes hardly anything had happened to him.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed in a hushed voice. Thinking about how I almost lost him, lost another man in my life, filled me with dread. I suddenly became aware of how I was clearly crossing the boundaries I set for myself.

  “That’s the army for you. At least I’m here with you now. This is why I do what I do, to keep you safe.”

  His words were more than I could bear. I pushed away, trying not to acknowledge the break of goose bumps that were forming along my arms.

  “Did you want anything to drink? Any coffee?” I asked, my voice higher-pitched than I would have liked. I winced at my own words, hard and grating.

  “Iced tea would be great if you have it. But I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you otherwise.”

  “Not a problem,” I rushed quickly, making my way to the kitchen. “I was going to bake you some cookies, but I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

  “They switched the flight time on me,” he explained. I could still feel his eyes hot on the back of my neck, making me feel both wanted and exposed. “And all those cookies you’ve been sending me have been more than enough to get me through the brutal nights. They’re sweet, like you.”

  “Dalton…” I warned, the cold glass stinging my hand as I gripped it tightly. I felt him come up behind me, the heat radiating off his body. He wrapped one arm around my waist, taking the glass from my hand with the other.

  “I’m done waiting for you, Jessica. I’ve done just about all I can to convince you I’m a stand-up guy. I’ve never set my eyes on another woman—it’s been you since that day at the lake, sweet heart.”

  The truth was, I hadn’t been with anyone either. I was a twenty-four-year-old virgin, and it wasn’t because I didn’t have the chance to be otherwise. It was because every time I thought to pursue a handsome guy, I thought about that sunny day at the lake also. My toes were dangling over the edge of the wooden pier, my eyes cast downwards at my reflection. I was sixteen—on the cusp of womanhood. For the first time, I could make out my voluptuous figure as something more than awkward and unwanted.

  Because Dalton was beside me, telling me I was perfect. Telling me I was everything he ever wanted and that he’d make an honest woman out of me.

  “I’m young,” he said, and he was. Fresh-faced and eighteen-years-old. But he was strong and confident, more of an adult than I could imagine being at that point in my life. “But I know about forever. Forever is when you don’t give up. Even when just about everything is going to crumble beneath you. You’re my forever, Jessie. Don’t let a war make you forget that.”

  I could feel the weight of that memory pulling inside of me as his breath fell on the back of my neck in the kitchen, a million miles away. I closed my eyes for just a moment, losing myself as I returned to his touch.

  “No,” I said weakly, pulling away and stepping back to look him square in the face. I took a deep breath and mustered all the courage I could. I’m not the bravest or most outspoken girl, but sometimes you have to fight to say what you truly believe.

  “You gave up the chance we had together the day you enlisted,” I said, my voice wavering. I fought back the tears for the second time in the last half hour. I felt weak, but my false display of bravado was helping me get through the moment as I stared down the most gorgeous man in the face, telling him he couldn’t have me.

  “It’s not that simple,” Dalton growled, his handsome lips falling into a frown. He rubbed his thick, calloused hand against his stubbled chin. He was used to me throwing this point in his face, and yet it never ceased to frustrate him. “I’ve told you that a million times. A lot more is at stake than I could ever express to you.”

  “So leave that to somebody else!” I exclaimed, feeling guilty but exasperated. I knew it was wrong, but I had always wanted him to myself; I couldn’t help the words as they tumbled out of my lips.

  “And then what?” he snapped, taking another step towards me so that his face was only a few inches from mine. “Leave all the good men and women I’ve met to fight the good fight? I’m not that kind of man, Jessie. You know that. I follow through with my convictions and beliefs. That’s what makes me different from all the boys you’ve met in this town.”

  His words ignited a raging fire within me, shocking me to my core. His words were electric, thrilling. “I know,” I started before I could stop myself, “that’s why I lov—that’s why I respect you.” I finished hurriedly, averting my gaze as I realized that the damage was done.

  But I should have known better than to think that Dalton would let me off the hook so easily. He took my small face into his large hand, turning it so that I was forced to look him in his chiseled face. His cheeks were hard peaks of marble smoothed over with luminous, bronze skin. His sandy hair framed his face, gorgeous, but obviously due for a formal trimming. His handsome, masculine beauty was enough to distract me from the rapid beating of my frantic heart.

  “I love you too, Jessie. And I swear to God that I’ll make you my wife one day, or I’ll die trying.” And with that, he leaned in and stole my breath away, planting the most delectable, mind-blowing kiss on my lips.

  His mouth was hard and unforgiving against my own, demanding that I release myself to him, melt into his limbs and shatter the walls I had built up for so long. He had a hand around the back of my neck, urging me with his touch to release myself, to give myself entirely. And though every fiber of my being screamed, aching and begging to fall into him and explore every crevice of his mysterious body, I pulled away, flushed and panting, fighting for my sanity.

  Chapter Two

  The moment I saw her I knew I couldn’t go a second longer without touching her. She was so flustered and beautiful in her flattering summer dress, strands of her auburn hair escaping that damned bun to kiss her milky skin. She looked a bit sad, but that only made me want to touch her more, to hold her and swear to protect her forever.

  Because she is, and always will be, the most beautiful girl in the world to me.

  But kissing her for the first time took me to another dimension—I had never felt anything like it in my entire life. Not only were her lips soft and delectable, but she was kissing me back with a surprising amount of force.

  I always knew it would take me years to have her. I had prepared myself for the challenge long ago.

  That’s why I wasn’t ready for it when she kissed me back with such intense ferocity. I was taken aback, but I quickly recovered, pulling her sumptuous body harder against mine. Even the give of her flesh beneath my hands was getting to be too much. I could feel myself stiffening, eager to be inside of her and finally make her mine, like I had been dreaming of for years…

  She pulled away and gasped, clearly shocked by the turgid presence of my cock against her stomach. She looked at me, her brown eyes wide with disbelief, and I should have been ashamed. Really, any normal man would have been.

  But I wanted her with every fiber of my being, and I didn’t care how that was communicated to her. She needed to know the extent of it, the power she had over my body.

  “Don’t act surprised,” I said lowly, unable to suppress the wry grin that crept across my face. She looked so cute and innocent, and I swear her eyes couldn’t have gotten wider, resting in that perfect heart-shaped face of hers.

  “I...I need to step outside,” she stammered, looking down at her hands as a curl of crimson crossed over her cheeks.

  “Then I’ll come with you,” I replied, refusing to let my gaze waver. She nodded and I followed her out to the porch, watching her perfect, goddess-like form and fighting the urge to groan and grab her. I felt my fingers
twitch at my side, restless, as I wanted to toss her over my shoulder and throw her across the bed, caveman style.

  The back porch was just as I remembered it, modest and picturesque, looking out into a thicket of trees where the owls cooed at night.

  “It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve been here,” I admitted, nostalgia pulling at my heart.

  “It has been,” she replied softly, “thirteen months and three days.”

  “Someone’s missed me,” I said in a mock-surprise tone of voice, even though my stomach burst with a small flutter of joy.

  “L-listen, Dalton—”

  I took a quick step towards her, holding one of my fingers to her lips. She quieted, but her body went rigid with anticipation.

  She wanted me as badly as I wanted her.

  “No, you had your turn to speak and I already know what’s going to come out of your mouth. Now it’s my turn.” I pulled a folded up square of paper from my pocket and unfolded it, turning it over so she could see her own loopy script.

  “It’s been two months and ten days since I’ve received your last letter. I read it every night before I fell asleep, tracing my fingers over your words, hoping that I can just feel your essence. All the other guys tease me but I know they’re jealous, wishing that they could be with someone so phenomenal and beautiful as you. The thing is, you’re mine whether you like it or not, Jessica. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to realize that I’ve faced death countless times before, and you’re the only one I think about each time. I want to take care of you. I want you to have my kids and I want to put you in a proper house with a fence and everything. I’ll never give up on that dream.”