“In my books? We don’t fade to black.”
Chapter Six
Aware the woods had its share of scavengers, Greg carried their plates and food inside and left them on the counter in the kitchen. The cabin’s rustic interior included a little sitting room and a very large bed. Georgia watched him from the doorway, backlit by the light from outside. The summer days meant later sunsets and he, for one, was glad for the extra light.
The wind. Her name meant wind—both her real name and her pseudonym. Is that what Crane’s been telling me for weeks? Was the old man acting as a matchmaker? A breeze stirred her hair, and Greg drank in the sight of her. Arousal glimmered in her eyes, and his cock ached when her tongue slipped over her plump lower lip.
“Are you hot?” Georgia murmured.
He crossed the room on slow steps. “A little.”
“Does our ‘do over’ rule still apply?”
“Oh, yeah.” He’d developed a swift fondness for that rule. It was a good rule. But she surprised him by heading out of the door. Curious, he followed. She toed off her boots and stripped off her jeans. He nearly swallowed his tongue when her golden legs came into view. Where his skin burnished a deeper red under the brown tan, hers was all soft gold and amber light. She wore a pair of pale white lace panties that shaped her sweet ass. She undid her bra and slid the straps off, wiggling it out from under her shirt and the scrap of white lace joined her jeans and boots—leaving her nearly naked in the see-through white tank and sweet lace panties.
It had to be the most erotic sight he’d ever seen. She trotted down the steps to the grass utterly unabashed with her state of undress.
“Where are you going?”
“Come on and find out.” She tossed the challenge over her shoulder and jogged to the lake. Easing out of his own boots and stripping off his shirt, he followed willingly. She didn’t slow at the water’s edge, racing into the cool, nearly crystal water and plunging in. His legs ached with the thought of the temperature drop, but maybe dampening the passion licking up his insides wasn’t a bad idea.
He strode into the water with purpose. Its clarity let him see all the way to the soft bottom with a trace of grass and almost no fish. Oddest pond he’d ever seen.
“It’s a snow melt pond,” Georgia called, swimming toward him with lazy strokes. He stopped with the water waist-high and enjoyed watching her. The cooler water did next to nothing to his ardor—not when in direct competition with the soaking wet tank top clinging to her skin. As soon as she was in reach, he scooped her up and pulled her to him.
Looping her arms around his neck, she swallowed. He could see the trace of embarrassment in her face as she dropped her gaze almost demurely.
“Have you ever done this before?” Sure, they’d both booked a one-night stand, and he fully intended to have sex with the woman he’d been partnered with—before he realized that woman would be Georgia. It didn’t take him long to realize a single night would never satisfy him.
He wanted more.
“‘This’ is a little vague.” She slid her hands into his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist. The lack of tide didn’t keep her from rubbing her sex along the bulge pressing forward on his jeans.
The blood drained from his head, and it took a moment to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He leaned down for a taste of her plump, sweet lips. The simple kiss burned away his other thoughts and turned carnal. Her tongue swept across his lips, seeking and gaining permission to enter. The kiss satisfied the urge for closeness and awakened fresh hunger.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, the two hard points of her nipples stretching the fabric of her top. Sliding his hands down to cup her ass, he added to his torment, and by the time he drew back, they were both breathing heavily.
Resting his forehead to hers, he traced the edge of her panties with his thumbs. It would be so easy to slip beneath the fabric. “This being sex…?”
“Yes.” She nipped his lower lip and sucked it teasingly. One kiss wasn’t enough, three hadn’t been. He slid his tongue out and stole inside her mouth again and she moaned, the vibrations filtering through him. Uninterested in playing in the water anymore, he turned and carried her toward the shore.
Her legs tightened on his hips, and he growled at the pleasurable torture. If not for his soaking wet jeans and her panties, he could be inside of her. Unwilling to slow, he strode across the yard to the cabin and set her down long enough to navigate the stairs. His legs protested the additional strain when he swept her back into his arms, but he ignored them.
Inside, he set her on the bed, stripped her out of her wet clothing, and got out of his. Face to face, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He plunged his tongue into her mouth over and over. He would never get enough of the flavor of her. She responded with the same passion he’d seen snapping beneath her anger, fisting her hands in his hair. They fell together onto the sheets.
“I want to go slow,” he murmured. “But I don’t think it’s possible.” The need to have her was a perpetual ache burning him alive. Curling his fingers between her thighs, he sought her sex and groaned when he found her damp and slick with arousal.
“I don’t want slow,” she encouraged him. “We can call do over later, you know.”
Laughter crested his rising passion, and he grinned against her mouth, kissing her again as he eased a finger inside of her and teased her clit with his thumb. Her inner muscles grasped him greedily, and he fought to remember he needed a condom.
Growling, he pulled away and scanned the room. He’d bought a box when he planned the night, and it took him a moment to locate them. Retrieving a foil package, he returned to the bed and stared at her as he ripped it open and rolled it into place.
In his admiration of her curvy hips and full breasts, he'd failed to notice the clean lines of her muscles. With supple legs and toned arms, she was a woman used to being outdoors. “God, you’re beautiful.”
He knew the moment she saw his damaged legs and he’d prepared for it. The scars weren’t pretty. Slowing his breathing, he forced patience. She didn’t turn away, nor did she wince. He waited for the pity to seep into her eyes, to erase the desire in them. Easing forward, she traced her fingers over his left thigh and then his right, following the line of scarring down to his knees. His cock jerked at the featherlight brush of her fingertips.
“Will you tell me what happened?” She lifted her chin. “When you’re ready.”
Something inside him eased, a knotting tension he’d barely been aware of. “Later,” he promised. It wasn’t a sexy story or a particularly pleasant one. “Right now I just want to touch you.”
“I’d like that.” She caught his hand and pulled him to her, and he sank onto the bed with her willingly. Their mouths collided, the spiraling lust in his blood exploded. He poured his want for her into the kiss, skimming caresses down her side and nudging her thighs apart.
He wanted to spend time on her breasts, he wanted to hear her scream his name as he made her come over and over again, but the mad craving to be with her overwhelmed everything else. Greg needed this, needed her, now.
Hard and swift he entered her, and she gasped, digging her nails into his back. Lifting his head, he stared down at her, making sure she was okay. She caught his face in her hands, pulled him down for another kiss.
“I want you.” Her throaty declaration ripped away any doubts.
The last thread of hesitation in him snapped and he moved. She was hot, and tight, and sweet. A low, keening moan vibrated in her throat, and he groaned into her mouth. He felt wanted, felt the wave of her orgasm approaching as she writhed, her legs hooked around his hips increasing the angle of his thrusts.
The wild heat of her sex clamped down on him and she cried out. He couldn’t hold back his own explosion as an orgasm wracked him. They collapsed together, their harsh breathing the only sound in the room.
For the first time since returning to the states following his accident, he
felt like he’d come home. He felt whole. The last shattered piece of him healed into place. He didn’t want to crush her and rolled onto his back, dragging her over so she sprawled atop him.
The long tangle of her dark hair clung to his skin and curtained his face when she lifted her head to gaze down at him. She grinned. “So…do over?”
Laughter pinged through his soul and his body stirred. He might even have the patience this time to play with her breasts. Cupping one, he teased the nipple with gentle strokes of his thumb. “Definitely do over.”
***
She sprawled on the bed, boneless and utterly wrung out. The man was insatiable. Or maybe that’s me. They hadn’t slept. Sometime in the middle of the night, they ate the leftover burgers and devoured the baked potatoes he’d forgotten all about. The outsides were crunchy, but the interiors were soft and perfect with butter.
And then he’d kissed her, and she forgot about time. He spent an hour playing with her breasts. Teasing the nipples, blowing on them and she damn near orgasmed from the attention. Of course, one flick of his thumb against her clit and she had come. He seemed to have made it his mission to wring every type of climax from her he could.
He also told her the story of his legs—and the accident that shattered them. So many surgeries to rebuild his legs. So much time to recover and learn to walk again. She couldn’t imagine going through it all alone, but he promised her that his brothers never left him alone.
“Hey,” he murmured and kissed her shoulder. “It’s almost dawn.”
“I know.” They lay side-by-side, she on her stomach and he on his back. Fresh flutters of desire began to beat in her breast despite her exhaustion. Looking at him, touching him—it was all a gift that she could never have imagined. “I don’t want tonight to end.”
But that’s what she signed up for—a one-night stand, an escape from her life to enjoy the passion she loved to write about.
“It doesn’t have to.” Greg rolled onto his side and rested his head on his knuckles. He ran his finger up and down her spine, lazily tracing her skin from her ass to her shoulders and down again.
“No?” She pushed up onto her elbows, trying to ignore the hope flaring in her heart. “But I thought you wanted a one-night stand?”
“Not anymore.” His voice darkened with need. A frown marred his forehead. “Unless that’s all you wanted.”
The glimpse of vulnerability undid her. She was so used to fighting for what she wanted, whether it was getting a book published or getting her grandfather to take his meds and look after himself, that she hadn’t allowed herself to think that a one-night stand could answer the most basic need in her—the need to share her life with someone. Whoa. Getting way ahead of yourself.
Licking her lips, she tried to organize her thoughts. To find the rational argument. “I wanted—you. I signed up for the service because I heard about it during research I did for a book, but the owner never answered any of my requests for an interview or research. I’d half-forgotten it until….” Oh, this is embarrassing. But if he wanted to pursue anything with her, it was better to be honest. Right?
“Until?” he prompted her; his gaze practically pinning her to the spot.
“Until you got me all hot and bothered the night you walked me to my car.” Not allowing herself to look away, she waited for his response.
“You signed up because of me?” He seemed to be verifying his facts.
“Yeah. Stupid, huh?”
“No.” He surprised her. “Because I signed up for you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I even wrote a description of you for my application.” For the barest moment, embarrassment flickered in his beautiful face and she melted further. So strong, so raw, so terrifically masculine, but beneath it all—his soul was so exquisitely real. “I wanted to ask you out, but I always seemed to be pissing you off.”
She should be ashamed, but she wasn’t. “I was jealous of my grandfather. I wished you were my friend and coming around to see me. Wow, you must think I’m an idiot.” Writing romance and being good at it were completely different things.
“No, I think you’re complicated.” He leaned over and kissed her shoulder again. “Beautiful. Sexy. Funny. Loyal.”
“Complicated?” The way he said the word made it sound like a compliment.
“I like complicated.” He tucked a finger under her chin. “Last night, I got to know you, and I want to keep getting to know you.”
Nervousness bubbled up beneath the thrill of those words. “Until you have to go?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He smiled. “A.J.’s asked me to stay and I plan to.”
“Really?” She could work anywhere, but she didn’t want to and wouldn’t leave her grandfather.
“Really.” He nodded. “You’re stuck with me.”
The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “So—we’re not a one-night stand?”
“Not even close.” He cupped the back of her head and pulled her to him, kissing her with such tenderness, tears filled her eyes. “I can’t wait to get to know you, Georgia Crane.”
“I’m not calling do over on this,” she warned. Her heart threatened to burst. She could fall in love with him so very easily. Rugged hero, wild lover, and gentle soul, all rolled into one amazing man.
“Good.” He wrapped his arms around her. “We’re going to date for six months, you’re going to share custody of your grandfather with me, and this Christmas, I’m going to ask you to marry me.”
Her eyes widened and she curled into him. “You have a plan.”
“Hmm-hmm.” He kissed her forehead. “I have a plan.”
“And if I don’t agree to this plan?” She couldn’t help but tweak him.
He grinned. “It’s my job to convince you. And I will.”
Of that, she had no doubt. “Do you know what happens in my books at this point?”
“Please tell me it’s more not-fading-to-black scenes?” he teased and cupped her breast.
“No, it’s more….” She leaned up to kiss him, and whispered, “Fade to happily-ever-after scene.”
“With lots more sex?” He nibbled her lower lip and the desire in her roused, hungry for him again.
“Lots and lots. You have ’til Christmas to convince me, after all.”
He rolled her over and pinned her to the bed, his naked and very aroused length pressed against her. “Challenge accepted.”
Epilogue
The Saturday after Thanksgiving dawned bright and cold. A fresh blanket of snow carpeted the town and turned it into a winter wonderland. Shops were open and the first wave of Christmas could be seen everywhere in the decorations and cheerful greetings. Miller and Jones left the ranch the week before Thanksgiving, happier, more settled Marines than when they’d arrived.
Greg felt the same. He didn’t wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat regularly and, when he did, Georgia was there to soothe him back to sleep. Everything was better after the summer—his body, his heart and his soul.
After a long summer of work, A.J. and Greg had the ranch all ready for winter and had a plan for spring. They would open the doors to recovering veterans who needed additional time, physical labor, and a place to get away from it all when they were done at Mike’s Place. The ranch wouldn’t be a full-fledged center, not the way Luke built his facility in Texas, but it would be the place they could go to Turn the Corner.
Which also served as the new name for the ranch. The deeper snow also meant Crane couldn’t go on his long walks up through the woods, but Greg made sure to meet him every day around lunchtime to walk the town—and get his education about Freewill history. Today, he intended to broach a different subject.
One he’d not brought up before.
Georgia.
“She’ll say yes,” Crane commented as they walked toward the big tree in the town square. The annual lighting ceremony would kick off at dusk with music, food, and merriment—despite the brutal cold.<
br />
“How do you know what I plan to ask her?” He meant it more as a rhetorical question. He’d learned over the last several months that Crane knew just about everything about everyone—usually before they did.
“A man knows that look. You’ve wanted to ask for a while, but you are a planner. You owed an obligation to A.J. and you wanted to be sure to see it through. You wanted to prove to my stubborn granddaughter that you are a man of your word.”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And you’ve done both these things.” It wasn’t a question.
“I think so.” He believed it. He and A.J. shook hands on working together at the ranch. He had a home there and it wouldn’t be long before A.J. sold him a small section to build his own place. A.J. insisted. Greg had an idea for the house he would build—and exactly where. On the hill overlooking the vistas with plenty of room for Crane, so he could walk and listen to the wind whenever he cared to.
The old man might be harder to convince than Georgia. But he had a plan for that, too.
“You will ask her tonight?”
“When they light the tree. You don’t mind going with Sheri and A.J., do you?” He’d already checked with the other couple. They were more than happy to look after Georgia’s grandfather. Particularly since Greg rented the remote cabin again and planned to steal away with Georgia for the next few days.
“Why would I mind? It is good you plan to ask her at the tree lighting.” Crane paused outside of the barbershop. He and the owner often played cards together in winter when business was slow. The older Indian reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a book. He held it out. It was one of Georgia’s. “You’re ready to listen to the wind.” Crane winked and went inside.
Greg laughed. He hadn’t seen this one, but he recognized the setting in the background. He flipped the book over and read the back of it. He recognized the hero and heroine, too. Curious, he flipped to the end and read the last chapter.
Marine in the Wind (1Night Stand Series) Page 6
