by Aliyah Burke
She left and he craned his neck to watch her walk away. She never seemed to mind that his answers were so short and succinct. His body thrummed at the prospect of having her close again.
True to her word, she returned shortly. He ogled her long, firm, jean-encased legs before she crouched and he could see her face.
“What can I do?”
He wriggled his way out from beneath the sink and sat. A grin tipped up the corner of his mouth. She had splatters of paint on her smooth skin as well as in her hair.
“You’re smiling,” she said with feigned shock. “What’s so funny?”
He was so pleased she didn’t seem offended that he may have been laughing at her.
“You…” He circled a finger around his face.
Dawning grew in her expression. “Paint on my face?”
“And hair.”
She sighed then shrugged. “I’m surprised I’m not wearing more, honestly.”
“Like little freckles,” he said. Sam gave into his urge to touch her and played a short version of connect the dots with the paint splatters on her face.
In half a heartbeat, his world narrowed to just the two of them. He stared in her eyes, the colour of rich coffee, and startled himself with what he saw. His future.
Roxi crouched there on her haunches, watching him right back. Her hair, mostly pulled back, aside from the few wisps which curled around her face, gentled her appearance. Soft. Alluring. Heart-stopping. She was all of that and more to him.
His shaft pulsed when he skimmed her lower lip with his thumb and she nipped it with her teeth. The blaze in her stare told him she, too, was more than aware of the increasing sexual draw between them.
It was just as strong as it had been the previous night. He lowered his gaze and stared at the rest of her. She’d pushed up the sleeves on her shirt and the way she sat manipulated her jeans tight over her thighs and—he knew—her firm ass.
Lust pounded through him. He longed to lift her and impale her on his cock. Her back against the wall, head tossing as she screamed his name. Right here. Right now.
“Come on, Marine, we have a bathroom to fix.”
He moved his hand around to the back of her neck and pressed, encouraging her to shift closer. She followed his silent directive without hesitation. He lightly licked along the edges of her lips before capturing her mouth with his own. Light swipes along the seam and she opened for him.
Their groans were combined as tongues met and duelled. His cock swelled even more while her taste rejuvenated him. Soul included. Roxi had this way of banishing ghosts from his past without doing anything.
The sounds of a door opening and footsteps snapped him out of the ‘Roxi zone’ he’d been in. Ending the kiss, he reluctantly removed his hand from her. He almost lost his newly gained control when her tongue sneaked out and swiped along her lips like she wanted another taste.
“Sam?” Father O’Toole called out. “Roxi?”
Gaze locked with Roxi’s, he didn’t move when she replied to the call. “In the far left bathroom. We’re fixing the sink.”
A keen sense of loss filled him as she stood and broke their visual connection. He lay back and returned to work with the wrench, listening to Roxi and Father O’Toole talking in the doorway. It was a good thing he didn’t have to concentrate too hard for his mind couldn’t—or wouldn’t—let go of the time he’d spent in Roxi’s arms.
* * * *
Roxi waited at the Seattle bus station. A mocha latte in her hand, she worried her lower lip. Her mind was a jumbled mess. She and Sam had settled into an easy routine over these past few days and she had no problem with him staying at her place. Granted, the nights in his arms didn’t hurt anything either.
No, it was the not telling Laila that constantly ate at her. She wasn’t blind, she saw the way Laila looked at Sam. And she knew her friend was possessive over him.
You’ve fallen for him, her brain announced.
After a sigh, she drank some of her latte. No point in arguing—she had. Fallen fast and fallen hard.
“Aunt Roxi!”
Eric’s voice pierced her bubble and she blinked as her eyes threatened to well up with tears. He strode through the station in his uniform, cover under one arm and bag in the other. Beside him walked Sandra, the mother of another cadet, Roy, who’d escorted them here.
“Eric,” she said fondly, setting her drink down and accepting his hug with pleasure.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear.
“Missed you, too.” She squeezed tighter before releasing him. “Thank you, Sandra. Hello, Roy.”
“Ms Roxi.”
The women shared a smile and walked out to Roxi’s SUV. With the boys in the back, she chatted with Sandra as she took them home. Soon it was just her and Eric on the ferry to Bremerton.
“Ready for Thanksgiving?” she asked her nephew.
He nodded. She reached in her purse and withdrew his Game Boy. His eyes lit up the instant he saw it. He wasn’t allowed electronics at the academy.
“I have to tell you something, Eric.”
He stared at her, his large brown eyes focused directly on her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sweetie. I just want you to know there is a guest at the house.”
“Who?”
“A man named Sam Hoch.”
Eric was silent for a moment, the electronic device she’d handed him ignored in his lap. “Why?”
“He is a very good friend to Master Guns and came out to see him while he’s in the hospital.”
“He’s military?”
She nodded. “Marine.”
“Cool. Can I play now?”
She fought the urge to haul him close and kiss him. “Of course.”
Eric played the remainder of the ferry ride. She sat beside him and read a book. It was routine for them. Once he’d settled down a bit more he’d tell her about how things were going at the academy. His game play continued even after they got back into the vehicle.
The garage door sat wide open as they pulled in the drive. She could see Sam working by his truck but he stopped when he noticed them.
“That’s him?” Eric asked.
She parked outside so he’d continue to have room to work in the garage. “That’s him.”
All six feet three inches of hard-bodied Marine Recon hotness. He wore dark blue jeans that made her mouth water. A navy blue sweatshirt covered his impressive upper body—his defined, rock-solid muscles, powerful arms, warm skin that smelt like…
“Aunt Roxi?”
She blinked repeatedly as she attempted to pretend she’d not lost track of what Eric had been saying. Unfortunately she had.
“Sorry, Eric. What did you say?” She glanced at him.
“You seemed lost. I wanted to see if you were okay?”
Shutting off the engine, she gave him a smile. “I’m fine. Let’s go so you can change then play.”
The joy on his face warmed her. Together they climbed out. Tears stung her eyes as she watched him replace his cover then grab his bag. Sam walked towards them, his gaze lingering over her before moving to the young man who’d joined her at the front of her SUV.
“Eric, this is Sam Hoch. Sam, my nephew, Eric.”
“Very nice to meet you, sir,” Eric said, offering his hand.
“And you.” Sam shook his hand and glanced back to her.
“Go on, Eric. I’ll be in shortly.”
He said farewell and hurried inside. She was again alone with Sam Hoch.
“How are you?” she asked, not really expecting an in-depth explanation.
“You left early this morning.” His gravelly voice made her panties wet.
“I did. Caught an early ferry and ran some errands in Seattle before gathering Eric. How are you?”
They walked into the garage and the second they stepped around the shelf and couldn’t be seen from the outside, she was in his arms, pressed flush to his muscular physique. Her groan of ple
asure was captured by his mouth as he kissed her. His tongue swept dominatingly through the heated recess of her mouth. Stroking. Surging. Thrusting. She nearly sank boneless to the floor. Sam held her up. Body aflame, she had one thought—getting him inside her as fast as possible. He ended the kiss, dragged a knuckle down the side of her face, and gave her a passionate look, one which only reaffirmed her desire for him.
“I’m fine.” His deep voice rasped over her.
Yes. Yes, he was. Sam rotated and opened the door into the house.
“I just need to put my things away.”
Sam stared at her, not saying a word. Her nipples tightened and that insistent pulse in her sex began again. She made her way to her room only to stop outside the laundry room. The door they’d got no longer occupied a space in her garage but hung here. That’s what he’d been doing.
Glancing from the door to Sam, she touched two fingers to her heart and mouthed, “Thank you.” His gaze warmed and he gave a sharp nod before he vanished back out into the garage.
She skimmed her lips before sighing and entering her room. Sinking against the closed door, she breathed heavily. Sam Hoch was dangerous. Especially to her. The feel of him against her, in her, all of it risked her heart more every second.
While she didn’t know the nitty-gritty details about how he’d grown up, Laila had said it hadn’t been easy. Her friend hadn’t said much more than that, but she got the gist of it. Sam had had it really rough. She wanted to cry for the little boy he’d been as well as the pain he’d endured, and she loved the man he’d become.
Loved.
Well, shit, she’d gone and fallen in love. No. It’s not been that long. I can’t possibly be in love with him. Could I?
Taking a bit of time to compose herself, she went to the kitchen to bake some cookies. Ingredients gathered, she began, her gaze on the backyard. After a bit, she frowned and walked to the door. No Eric. She checked his room. Not there either. Wiping a hand on her jeans, she opened the door to the garage and looked there.
Eric was with Sam. They were by his Dodge 2500, which Sam had pulled out and had lifted the hood on. Her nephew stood on a step ladder, watching whatever Sam did.
Her heart clenched with emotion as she observed them together. Sam nodded every so often and, smiling, she stepped back into the house. She felt safe knowing Sam was with Eric. Quite safe.
After the cookies were finished, she started work on supper and was lost in her own world when she glanced up to see Laila standing there. After a small jump, she smiled.
“Hey.”
Laila gave her a tired smile. “Hey, yourself. Sam said you were in here. I see Eric’s bonded well with him. He’s out there chatting away while Sam works on his truck.”
“I saw them earlier. It’s nice to see.” She gave a nudge with her chin. “What’s up with you? You look exhausted.”
“I am.” Laila sat at the table, a groan escaping.
“Everything okay at work?”
“Yeah, that’s not it. It’s…well, Dean Jr.”
Roxi clenched her fingers around the spoon handle she was using on the spaghetti sauce. She was making a dish Eric had asked for.
“What’d he do?” No response prompted her to glance at her friend. “Laila? Answer me.”
“They’re not good house guests. Chris was smoking inside when I got home. They’re demanding and just rude.”
Tamping down her immediate desire to rush over there and kick their asses, Roxi remained where she was. “Tell them to stay at a hotel, then.”
Another peek at her friend and she witnessed Laila chewing on her lower lip with a bunch of indecision in her expression. When she sighed heavily, Roxi tasted the sauce and placed the spoon on the dish before giving Laila all her attention.
“What’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to lose him, he’s family. They all are.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Bullshit.”
Laila jerked like she’d been shot. “What?”
“Sam is more family to you than Junior Fuck over there or his two useless brothers. You know it, yet you continually take Dean’s side when you know damn well that excuse of a human wouldn’t cross the street to piss on you if you were on fire.”
“Language, Roxi.”
She scoffed. “Don’t have time to be delicate, Laila. Sam would move mountains for you. It’s time for you to make a decision on who is more important.”
Laila’s eyes flashed fire. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose your family, Roxi. So kindly keep your damn advice to yourself. Dean’s in a tough spot.”
Ignoring the stab of pain, she lifted her chin. “Just because I haven’t lost my parents doesn’t mean I can’t recognise an asshole when I meet one.”
The sound of the door opening reached them and she knew there was little time before either Sam or Eric arrived. Perhaps both.
“However, if you need to believe Dean’s above reproach, then go deal with him.”
“Hi, Aunt Roxi,” Eric said, bounding in. The seriousness which had surrounded him while he’d been dressed in his academy uniform had vanished. “Hi again, Miss Laila, are you staying for dinner?”
“No, she can’t,” Roxi spoke up before Laila could. “She has company at her house she wants to spend time with. Her family.”
Laila met her gaze, anger and hurt in her eyes, then she looked away. “Maybe some other time, Eric.”
Sam appeared in the doorway and Roxi knew he recognised the tension. Turning back to the stove, she picked up the spoon and stirred the sauce. “Bye, Laila.”
The chair scraped back and she heard Laila’s farewells to Eric and Sam before her voice faded. Roxi chewed her lower lip. Maybe she had overstepped but damn it, it was about time Laila stood up for herself.
Eric popped up beside her. “Almost ready?”
His eager question made her smile. “Will you please set the table?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When she drained the spaghetti, she watched Sam assisting Eric. He nodded occasionally as he’d done near the truck, but still rarely spoke. Eric, if he noticed, didn’t seem to care his companion was mostly silent. He chatted along happily.
Pasta in a bowl, she placed it on the table beside the pot of sauce. Spinning back to grab the salad and bread sticks, she ran into Sam.
“Oh!”
He steadied her and she struggled not to press closer. “Everything okay?”
She glanced around for Eric.
“He’s washing up. Answer me.”
“Fine,” she managed to mutter before extracting herself from his grasp.
He didn’t believe her, she could see that. Still, he didn’t press the issue. Which was good, because Eric soon returned. They ate, with Eric telling them about school.
Throughout the meal, she felt Sam’s intense gaze upon her. After dessert, Eric went to play a video game while she cleaned up. Sam stayed with her. She kept waiting for him to ask her again what was wrong, but he didn’t. She huffed and Sam glanced at her.
“Just ask already.”
One black eyebrow arched in silent question.
“About me and Laila and what happened.”
“Not my business, but if you want to tell me”—a shrug—“I’ll listen.”
She wanted to shake him. His gaze never wavered from hers. The epitome of patience. So unlike her.
“Never mind.”
He blinked and went back to wrapping up the leftover breadsticks. She watched him for a few moments. He was wearing a nondescript black T-shirt and jeans, and they affected her in so many ways. The way the sleeve cuffs hugged his muscles only emphasised the strength in his arms. She knew how delicious it was to be held by him. The flat abdominals with the ridges that she loved tracing with both her fingers and tongue. Powerful legs and lean hips she loved having between her…
“Roxi?”
“Huh?” Shit. Got caught staring and fantasising. Damn near drooling, and I wouldn’t be the
least bit surprised to be standing in a puddle. Or lake.
Those damnable evening-blue eyes darkened with understanding and more than a hint of desire. Lord help her, she wanted to touch him.
“Are you okay?”
She forced a smile. Was she? Most assuredly not. She was horny as hell and pissed off that she’d fought with Laila. “Fine.” Even to her ears the word sounded like it had been pushed through gritted teeth.
He came closer and crowded her back ’til the edge of a counter met her spine. “You’re lying.” His hard cock pressed definitely and defiantly against her and he moved until there was no light between them. His warm, masculine scent surrounded her in a blanket of security.
Yes, she was. Instead of responding, she merely shrugged. Another flex of his hips had her swallowing hard as her clit pulsed and nipples pebbled. Sam dragged two knuckles down her cheek before he stepped away. She missed his closeness immediately but held her tongue, for Eric walked in.
“Mr Sam, will you play a video game with me?”
Blue eyes met hers with a question in them. She gave a brief nod and basically held her breath until Sam and Eric left. Once she’d completed the last bit of clean up, she propped her shoulder against the archway between the kitchen and living room.
The guys were on the couch, faces intent on the game. She shoved her hands in her pockets and just watched their interaction. Eric looked up and gave her a heart-melting smile.
“Ready, Aunt Roxi?”
“Whenever you two finish.”
“We’re done now. Are you coming on our walk, Mr Sam?”
Again those blue eyes found her.
“Come if you like, Sam.”
“Please, Mr Sam. I would love to hear more about being in the Marines. Aunt Roxi doesn’t talk about it much.”
“Okay,” he said, still holding her gaze.
The television was shut off and they grabbed coats before walking out the front door. Night had fallen and so the street and porch lights lit their way. They walked with Eric between them.
“So what’s it like being a Marine for you, Mr Sam?”
She watched from her periphery for his reaction to Eric’s question.
Chapter Five
