Box of 1Night Stands: 21 Sizzling Nights

by Anthology

  “Think about it,” he said, as he rolled her beneath him and licked the sensitive spot behind her ear.

  She shivered with pleasure and shifted to give him better access. He spent a long time kissing her neck, her collarbone, and finally her breasts, tugging each plump nipple into his mouth and laving it thoroughly with his tongue. She made little whimpering sounds of pleasure again, the ones that turned him harder than stone.

  He kissed his way down her body, taking his time, leaving no area of her silken skin unattended to. When his mouth reached her pussy, he lapped at the slit and curled his tongue around her sensitized and swollen clit. Maggie arched and writhed beneath him, her breathing erratic.

  “Mmm,” she moaned and clutched at his head, pressing it close to her.

  She cried out in protest when he left her hot, pink cleft to trail the same light kisses down the inside of one leg and up the other, before returning to lick her cream and place gentle nips on her pink labia. By then, she twisted and arched beneath him, begging him without even knowing what she asked for.

  When she was ready, he gently turned her over and urged her to her hands and knees, plumping two pillows beneath her. For him, what he coaxed her into was the ultimate symbol of possession. Despite his reputation, so gleefully embellished by his team members, he indulged in this intimate act sparingly. Only with a woman he thought might mean more in his life.

  Up until then, his very few choices had been poor ones. But with Maggie he’d found a different breed altogether. Her age gave her a maturity lacking in the other women, a richness of body and soul that made him think he’d finally, finally found the woman who could make a difference in his life. He hoped the thoughts chasing around in his brain weren’t leading him down yet another wrong path, but he had to try.

  In the top drawer of the bedside table he found a variety of lubes, choosing a tube with hearts on it.

  Hearts? What the hell?

  He shrugged and unscrewed the cap.

  “I feel something special here, Maggie,” he drawled, his hands cruising over her curves. “I want you to feel it, too. I want us to be really connected.”

  She tensed beneath his hands, and for a moment he thought she would tell him to stop. Then she relaxed.

  “I want that, too.” Her voice had a breathy sound.

  “Just relax, darlin’,” He reached between her thighs to find her clit and stroked it, coaxing her body to unfold for him.

  He kissed each globe of her buttocks, lavishing kisses while he continued to rub and caress her hot little nub. Slowly, he moved his fingers from her cunt, up to the cleft of her ass. Rub, stroke, caress. Down, up. Down, up, until it was all one smooth, smooth motion, all the while crooning to her, murmuring erotic words, telling her how much she turned him on, how sexy she was, how she took his breath away.

  By the time he uncapped the lube and squeezed a generous amount onto one finger he had Maggie moaning and crying out, rocking back and forth on her knees. He spread the lube on her tiny puckered opening, rubbing gently, smoothly, softly, placing tender kisses on each curved cheek. Then more lube. More kisses, reaching between her thighs again for her clit.

  As he gradually eased one finger into her tight channel, he pinched her button of flesh hard and she sobbed with pleasure. Gabe had to force himself to go slowly. He had no idea how much experience she had with this and he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt her.

  More lube. A second finger. More stroking and rubbing.

  A third finger. She squirmed and moaned and he wanted to moan himself, he was so damn hot and hard. Squirting a generous amount of the lube onto his palm, he coated his shaft liberally, gritting his teeth to maintain control.

  He leaned over the luscious body beneath him. “Have you done this before? It’s important for me to know.”

  She nodded, her body shuddering in anticipation.

  “Okay, then. We’ll still take it nice and easy but holy shit, Maggie, I’ve never wanted this with another woman as much as I do with you.”

  “Me, too.” The words came out in a rush.

  As good as his word, he grasped for the fraying edges of control.

  “Breathe, darlin’. In now. And let it out.”

  As she exhaled, he let the head of his cock penetrate her. In, out, again. And a little more. Until at last he was all the way in, gripped by her hot, tight flesh.

  Oh, Jesus, let me just hang on long enough to give her pleasure.

  He began the slow, steady glide, one hand creeping past her hip to find her throbbing nub again. He rocked with her, his balls slapping against her thighs.

  Harder. Faster. More, more, more.

  He roared. “Now, Maggie.” Pinching her clit, they exploded together.

  And oh, god, his body shuddered as the spasms of pleasure ripped through him. Nothing existed for him except this woman and the intense satisfaction of making love with her.

  Yes, not sex. Making love.

  With one last tremor, he collapsed forward, catching as much of his weight as he could on his arms. He had no breath left. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything except wrap around this unexpected treasure pressed against him.

  ***

  They were in the shower again, wrapped in each other’s arms, ignoring the multiple soft sprays flowing lightly down on them. Maggie couldn’t remember ever feeling such soul-deep satisfaction, or such a sense of rightness being with someone, like this strong, macho, yet tender SEAL. Had he’d gotten what he expected out of tonight? She certainly had. And definitely after this shower they’d have no trouble sleeping. They needed it.

  But then what? Would it be breaking the rules of 1Night Stand if she told him she’d like to see him again? Would he even want to?

  “Maggie?” He’d wrapped her curls around his fingers and cradled her head.

  “Mmm?” She pressed her face against his hard, solid chest.

  “Close your eyes. I want to ask you something.”

  “’Kay.” She lowered her eyelids, hoping she wouldn’t fall asleep standing up.

  “I don’t know what proper procedure is here,” he began, “but tonight turned out to be so much more than I expected. Way more.”

  “Yeah?” She tightened her arms around him, their wet bodies plastered together.

  “See, the thing is….” One large hand lightly stroked her spine. “In the life of a SEAL, you don’t really have a lot of time to waste. When you find something that’s right, and you know it’s absolutely right, you have to move forward immediately.”

  “Immediately?” she repeated.

  “Uh huh. Because you don’t know what’s coming up for you tomorrow.” He huffed out a long sigh. “I’m not very good at this.”

  Puzzled, she pushed her head back and looked up at him. “At what?”

  “At telling you I want more than tonight. Much more. I know it’s quick,” he said in a hurry, “but—”

  “But, I want more, too.” She smiled.

  “You do?” He pushed her wet hair away from her face. “I have to tell you, being with a SEAL isn’t that easy.”

  She laughed. “Neither is being with a smartass cougar.”

  “I mean, I’m gone for long periods of time—”

  “I have a firm to run that keeps me very busy.”

  “Sometimes when I come home from a mission I don’t want to talk. I just want to lose myself in someone and—”

  “You can lose yourself in me.” Her heart thumped so hard, he had to feel it.

  “But, I’ve never felt a connection to a woman like this before.”

  “Me, either. A man, I mean.”

  Thump, thump, thump.

  He tilted her face up and kissed her, heedless of the water.

  “Can you get away for a few days?” he asked, his mouth still touching hers. “I have a cabin in the Hill Country. Really isolated.” He ran his tongue over her lips. “Just you and me.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “And a chance to ma
ke plans for the future. Maggie, I don’t want to rush you, but life moves fast for me and we fit like a glove. We—”

  She slid her fingers between them and touched his mouth. “Yes, it does, and yes, we do. When do we leave?”

  “How about we get some sleep in what’s left of the night, then tomorrow I can follow you to your place, leave your car. You can pack some things.” He grinned. “Not too many clothes, though.”

  “What about you?”

  “I keep stuff at the cabin. We just have to stop for groceries.” His eyes sparked with mischief. “I plan on using up a lot of your energy.”

  “Good.” She leaned her head against his chest. “I look forward to it.”

  They stood for a long moment, locked together. She loved the feel of his body against hers.

  “I think we should send a thank you note to Madame Evangeline,” she said finally.

  He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Let’s just invite her to the wedding.”

  She gasped, stunned.

  “W-Wedding?”

  He kissed her forehead and tightened his arms around her. “Moving too fast for you, Maggie darlin’?”

  Was he? Hell, life was too short not to reach for something good and right. Her friends might call her crazy, but she knew this would probably end up being the sanest thing she’d ever done.

  She laughed joyously. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch up real fast.”

  “I promise you won’t be sorry.” He tipped her head up to give him access to her mouth and kissed her with so much emotion it nearly made her heart burst.

  “No,” she said when he lifted his lips. “I don’t believe I will. But maybe, just to seal the deal, you should kiss me again.”

  After a long time they managed to drag themselves out of the shower, crawled into bed and fell asleep. Locked together in an embrace, they dreamed about their future.

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  Desiree Holt’s writing is flavored with the rich experiences of her life, including a long stretch in the music business representing every kind of artist from country singer to heavy metal rock bands. For several years she also ran her own public relations agency handling any client that interested her, many of whom might recognize themselves in the pages of her stories. She is twice a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award and a winner in 2014, a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of the Holt Medallion, multiple winner of the Whipped Cream Book of the Week Award and is published by five different houses. Romance Junkies said of her work: “Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.”

  You can visit Desiree at:

  www.desireeholt.com

  My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  D.L. Jackson

  Also by D.L. Jackson

  Carnal Desires

  Carnal Attraction

  Carnal Denial

  Cinderella Wore Combat Boots

  Seducing Liberty

  This Endris Night

  Being Prince Charming

  Beauty and the Brigadier

  Rebel Souls

  Last Flight of the Ark

  Courtesan Boot Camp

  Prepper Romance

  Finding Mercy

  Shockwave

  Slipping the Past

  ~DEDICATION~

  To the past, present, and future soldiers in the 10th Mountain Division. Climb to Glory.

  Chapter One

  Grace lay on her belly, her cheek pressed into the lush grass, staring at a shot-glass of liquid. It sat at the base of her brother’s tombstone, as if someone waited for him to take a drink.

  George Daniels, born June 18, 1987, Died August 8, 2011. Hero, Son, Brother.

  Whoever left the whiskey had set it on an ace of spades. Probably one of the Green Berets Geordie had served with. They’d liked to play that game. She smiled, remembering the stories her brother had told her about his downtime while deployed, the heated spades matches, the stomach churning dares to eat creepy crawlers, the roach races, anything to keep them entertained between patrols.

  “I miss you.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. It had been a year since she’d lost him, and the hole still gaped open, raw, unbearable.

  She wouldn’t be off shift for another thirty minutes, but on the anniversary of his death, she hadn’t been able to stay away. She’d needed to talk to him. So, she’d sprawled over his grave in her uniform, getting grass stains on her elbows from the freshly cut lawn, telling him about how much her life sucked without him.

  “For my next number, I’m gonna play something a little more laid back.” A slurry voice rang out over the headstones, echoing through what was supposed to be a closed graveyard. A trumpet began to play. Dah, dah, dum. Dah, dah, squawk.

  She bolted up. “What the hell?” Believing she was alone, she’d bared her soul to her brother. She certainly wouldn’t have had that conversation if she’d known someone lingered nearby. She turned around three hundred and sixty degrees, until her gaze landed on a mausoleum backlit by the moon. A man stood on the roof with brass to his lips, butchering Taps. In his other hand, he held a bottle of what was probably in the glass on Geordie’s grave.

  Grace swatted the debris from her pants and stomped toward the mausoleum, irritation prickling over the back of her neck. She stopped at the base of the stone structure and glared at the man on the roof. “What are you doing here at three in the morning? The cemetery is closed.”

  “Whoa, hot chick in the audience.” He swayed, threatening to fall off the roof. “Feel free to toss your panties onto the stage in appreciation.”

  She clicked her flashlight on and cast the beam at him. “I suggest you get down from there before you fall or I have to arrest you for public intoxication.”

  He gave her a shit-eating grin. “You got handcuffs?”

  “Oh, God,” she groaned under her breath. “Of course I’ve got handcuffs. I’m the police.”

  He rocked and blinked his eyes. “You’re hot for a cop.”

  “Thank you, I think. Now get down.”

  “Okay.” He jumped, hit the edge of the roof, rolled off, and dropped like a stone at her feet, doing it with all the grace of a bag of potatoes. Yet he’d managed to keep hold of the bottle and not spill a drop. He put the horn to his lips and blew, but nothing more than a raspberry came from the mouthpiece. “For my next number, I’m going to play….” He looked up at her. “Any requests?”

  “Yeah, tell me where you’re staying, so I can take you to your room.”

  “Easy, girl. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

  “Drunk, cocky, and full of shit.” She reached down. “Come on. You either tell me where you’re staying or I take you to the drunk tank.”

  “Are you a meter maid?”

  Grace sighed. “I’m an officer. You obviously knew my brother, so I’m going to cut you a break. Come on, soldier, you need to sleep that booze off.”

  He gave her his trumpet. She tucked it under her arm and extended her hand to him again. After several attempts, his palm made contact with hers, and she pulled him to his feet.

  “So you’re Geo’s sister.”

  “Geordie’s, yes.”

  “Did I tell you, you are so fuckin’ hot?”

  “I think we covered that.” Grace frowned. Usually she’d blush to her roots, but the guy was probably too drunk to remember flirting with her, so the embarrassment factor wasn’t there. Even if he was damned hot himself.

  Tall, at least six foot four and with a warrior’s build—lean, muscled and powerful—he certainly didn’t lack any of the wow factor. His T-shirt stretched across his chest, defining a well-cut torso she could appreciate, if she weren’t so focused on getting him to her car.

  He draped his arm over
her shoulders and nodded to a dark area in the trees that bordered the cemetery. “My bike’s over there.”

  “Sorry, no can do. You can ride in the back seat of my patrol car and come get it in the morning when you’re sober.”

  “Yes, sssir…ma’am. Did I tell you how hot you are for a cop?”

  “Yes. Let’s go.” She tugged, but he didn’t move.

  “I can’t feel my feet.”

  “Come on. Put one foot in front of the other.”

  “Heel, toe, and say something backward?”

  “No, I want you to walk. No sobriety test needed. I’m pretty sure you’re cocked. Let’s go. We’ll do it in a language you’re familiar with. Your left, your left, left, right, left.”

  “You’re funny. And cute.” He turned toward her and grinned. The fumes on his breath were enough to send her to the drunk tank if she inadvertently inhaled too much of them. “C-130 rolling down the strip.”

  “I think we can do without the cadence.”

  “My girl’s a….”

  “I know that one, and you better shut it.”

  He shot her a mischievous smile and stumbled along beside her, only staying upright with her assistance. When she reached her car, Grace opened the back door. “Get in.”

  He took a swig of his whiskey. She grabbed it from him and turned it over, pouring it onto the street.

  “Hey.” He reached for it and she jerked it away, not stopping until every last drop ran toward the storm drain.

  “You’ve had enough.” She pushed on his head and forced him to sit down. “Put your feet in.”

  He fell back on the seat. “Everything’s spinning.”

  “Don’t puke in my car.”

  “Oh, God.” The drunken soldier rolled to his side and heaved onto her mats.

  “Shit. I told you not to…. Never mind.” Grace shoved his feet inside and slammed the door. She should haul his ass to jail for the night. But she couldn’t. He’d known her brother, served with him. It made him like, family. He barfed again, gagging up chunks of whatever he’d had for dinner. Family—right. A very distant relative nobody talked to, maybe. She went around to the trunk, dropped the bottle in, slammed it shut, and continued to the driver’s side, tossing his trumpet on the seat. “Okay, big boy. Where are you staying?”