The Titan Series: Military Romance Boxed Set

by Cristin Harber

  In the taxi, he had stroked her arm and made small talk with the cabbie. She had focused on breathing. Inhale, exhale. Don’t pass out.

  Jenny leaned against the elevator wall as it slowly progressed to the twenty-third floor. Asher’s hand covered hers. She watched him in the mirrored walls. A wicked smile danced on his face as he watched her back.

  His eyes were intense. His sinewy jawline flexed. He personified dapper and daring, as if he’d walked off a GQ photo shoot. Perfect hair. Perfect suit. Perfect… just perfect.

  A sparkle radiated from him. Every woman wanted to be on his arm. Every man wanted to be his buddy. It made him a good politician. That, and he was a good politician.

  He was the real deal, through and through. As manly and in charge as they came, and he’d set his sights on her.

  The elevator doors opened, and in one step, he had her under his arm again and walking toward her apartment. Toward a bed and every dream she’d hoped for since they’d first been introduced.

  “Here we go.” He jangled the key and slid her in front of him. She pressed against the cheap wood, and he slipped the key into the lock, unlocking it, but didn’t turn the handle. “What’s that look?”

  I can do this. I can do anything. Just calm down.

  Tingles exploded down her neck, shooting toward her navel. Asher drew back, narrowing his eyes.

  “Jenny?”

  “This is going to change everything.” There. She’d said it. He could agree and walk away. Everything would go back to normal, where she pined after him, he glanced her way but kept moving.

  “Hell, it wasn’t the same after we kissed.” Asher turned the handle, held her against his chest, and walked into her new apartment. “I haven’t been the same because of you. I’ve loved it.”

  Good, because I love you.

  Their eyes were locked, and she couldn’t turn away. Asher led her from a matchbox-sized living room to the tiny but separate bedroom. She’d been warned that the place was semi-furnished and decorated to get “their star” into the spirit of the show. Boas draped over the door. Candles lined a dresser, and erotic books lay on the nightstand. The apartment had a Tassels and Tangoes quality. Sexy. Seductive. Sensual.

  With all the command of his importance, Asher removed his suit jacket. The tie came off with a fling and landed over a chair that held yet another feather boa. He mesmerized her, emanating confidence and dominance. The vibes made her stronger, more ready to take what she wanted and give herself to him.

  He worked his cuff links. Each deliberate motion was sharp. Provocative. If he handled her the way he did his clothes, then the man was in charge and did everything just right. Her sex throbbed in anticipation.

  “Someone’s taking your show very seriously.” He nodded to the boa and loosened his collar.

  “It’s an acting method. Immerse yourself into the role. I play a burlesque dancer.”

  Excitement flickered across his expression. “Come here.”

  The order made her tremble. It was exhilarating, a sampling of what would come. She stepped to him and began to undo his shirt buttons.

  Asher toed off his socks and shoes. “What do I get to play?”

  “What do you want to play, Mr. Congressman?”

  “No, you don’t.” He chortled and tugged her shirt over her head. “Enough of that.”

  She studied him, sliding his dress shirt off his shoulders. It fell to the ground. “It’s like you don’t want the title sometimes.”

  “What I want is you.” He yanked off his cotton undershirt. “It’s never been about the title or the attention.”

  Asher’s smooth, tan chest towered over her. He loomed large, protective. Hungry. An extraordinary thrill made her heady. A man who epitomized power and prowess wanted her.

  Jenny laid her palms on his stomach then sashayed her fingertips over his rippled abdominal muscles and traversed to his sides. “Then what has it been about?”

  “I don’t want to talk about work.”

  Her fingers mapped the path of his belt. Undoing the buckle, sliding the clasp from his pants, the expensive material dropped to his ankles and his thick shaft bulged behind boxer briefs.

  She outlined his shaft with the slow slink of her fingers over the cotton. “Tell me anyway.”

  “This is coercion.” His head rolled to the side. “My standard answer, I like helping the greater good.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” She cupped him and stroked. “But tell me the real answer.”

  He inhaled as she glided over his length then caught her with the flash of his eyes. “I love the knowledge and control.”

  Asher continued to stare. Gripping him tighter, she ran her tongue along her bottom lip, and his eyes tracked the premeditated lick. “I think I’d love the control too. I like it now.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re going to be pinned to that bed and screwed until you scream if you’re not careful.”

  She watched his face and bent to his pec, lapping below his collarbone. “Promise?”

  He smelled like soap and the faint hint of cologne. He tasted as solid and crisp as a fall day, and never could she have guessed that her tongue would savor him.

  She sat on the bed and brought him directly in front of her, again sliding her hands down his sides. “Don’t move, Asher.”

  Leaning over, Jenny forced a hot breath through the fabric of his boxer briefs, over the crown of his cock. Asher sucked in a quick gasp. She kissed the edge of his skin, dipping her tongue below the waist of his drawers. “I want to taste you.”

  He groaned. “Sweetheart.”

  Her palms slid down to his hips, smoothing over his well-developed thighs and taking with them his boxer briefs. He stepped out of them and stood on display for her. Naked and sculpted. Virile and potent.

  His erection was thick, massive, and reaching for her. “Ash…”

  Her hands ran up the backs of his thighs, smoothing over the solid muscles of his rear. She nuzzled her cheek against his length, mouth watering. She could almost taste the salty, savory strength. As she squeezed him, he swayed. She could do anything she wanted, and he would let her.

  “This is what it feels like,” she whispered.

  “What?” his voice rasped.

  “You’re one of the most powerful men in the world.” Two hands rocked him, up and down. “This is how you must feel.”

  His eyes pinched closed. “And how’s that, sweetheart?”

  “In control. Confident. So sure of myself I might explode.”

  The corners of his lips ticked into a smile. “You and me both.”

  “Here’s to a night of fireworks.” Her mouth enveloped the broad tip, and his cock speared into her mouth. A hint of salt, the musk of sex… All her senses were alive.

  She stroked and suckled. His muscles contracted, his breath stuttered. Asher’s hands knotted into her hair, guiding and demanding.

  He murmured her name, and each thrust reached for her throat. He was more than she could handle, like drowning on an unexpected dream come true. Heat flourished inside her womb, and she met every growl and groan he offered. Every erotic sound, taste, and texture made her core beg for attention.

  She kept one hand on him, but the other unbuttoned the top of her pants and slid to the top of her panties. How many times had she touched herself while thinking of him? Her fingers found dampness. She widened her knees and took him further in her mouth, moaning as she touched her clitoris.

  His breath heaved. “Are you touching yourself?”

  She nodded.

  “Fuck, sweetheart.”

  God, she wanted to taste him. She looked up, pleading with her eyes to keep going.

  He untangled his hand from her hair and unclasped the back of her bra. She slid it off but stayed in the moment. Her body was reeling. Passion burned through her veins. Her pussy wept for him. Her clit had swollen, pleasure rolling and building.

  He stepped to the side, moving to the bed. She stayed with him, go
ing on her knees as he sat down. Asher sheared her pants and panties down to her thighs. His palm caressed her rear then dipped between her legs. Two fingers teased her wetness, toying with her opening. The pleasure was almost too intense.

  She kept her fingers on her nub, circling, and kept her mouth on his cock, sucking. His thighs flexed and strained. Watching him struggle and tighten, feeling him harden even more in her mouth drove Jenny to the brink of orgasmic heaven.

  Her hand on him dropped to his sac. He gasped and penetrated her with his fingers, sliding them deep into her canal.

  “Jenny,” he moaned deep from his chest, and Asher erupted in her mouth.

  With his fingers still inside her, his seed pulsing in her, Jenny flew over the edge. She sucked him deep, and her pussy spasmed. Her clit pulsed. Waves of aftershocks roared.

  Asher eased from her and pulled her into his arms. “Gorgeous, sweetheart.”

  Both their hearts beat wildly from rapture. With her temple pressed against his sweat-dampened chest, she could hear the barely slowing thump-thump-thump. The tempo mirrored the rabid cadence of hers. “I…” love you… “needed that.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Asher’s ragged gasps surprised him, but the white lightning igniting his imagination didn’t. Hell if he had known Jenny would be so bold. Her mouth had been intense. Cataclysmic. But her confident strokes to both of them? He shook his head and rubbed her naked back. And this is just foreplay.

  Her sexy smile and pink cheeks made his chest feel tight. What was she doing to him? Twisting his world from orderly and measured to uncalculated but full of possibilities.

  Taking a deep breath, he was refreshed. Reinvigorated. Years of stress gone with one pretty girl having her way with him. No woman before her had even neared the level of playing field that Jenny now owned.

  Hunger burned in her features. Every flirt and temptation before this night had been a silly game. How many years had he missed out on mind-bending climaxes? Too many.

  “I want you naked, sweetheart.” His hands drifted over her plump breasts. “And I want to touch you. Suck you. Have my way until you can’t handle any more.”

  Jenny shifted from his arms and grabbed a black boa off the headboard. She tossed it over her shoulders. “I can handle a lot. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  He laughed. “Think you know that’s never been my problem.”

  “How do you know when a politician lies?” She twirled the end of the boa. “His mouth’s moving.”

  “Ha, ha. Aren’t you funny?” He kissed her then reached for her foot and removed a black stiletto. He dropped it by his knee then did the same with the other. She reclined against a pillow, and her dark hair framed her. The boa feathers flittered, and she twirled each end, flicking her wrists until she dropped them over her chest.

  Asher tugged her pants off and revealed a skimpy, satiny black thong. It was all that she wore. Well, that and the black boa draped carelessly over her breasts.

  He slipped the high heels back on her feet and stared. “Unbelievable.”

  Jenny kicked one long, silky-smooth leg in the air, and he caught her ankle. Black heels, black boa, and black thong. Dark hair. Pouty, swollen lips. Rouged cheeks. Jenny was pinup girl material. Pretty and erotic as a boudoir picture.

  “I’ve dreamt of you, sweetheart. But this…” He crawled next to her in bed, caressing up her thigh and over her stomach. “This is more than my mind gave me.”

  She laughed, supple and rich, and the sound cascaded to his groin.

  “Funny how we’ve had the same dream.” One side of the boa slid off her breast.

  The luscious mound and the tight nipple spiked unconstrained desire into his system. He bent to the tip, curled his tongue around it, and listened as she sighed. Jenny’s back arched. He teased, working her deeper into his mouth, sucking the sweet cherry of her breast.

  She clutched an end of the boa, and her hands pushed into his hair. Tiny flashes of pain rushed through him when she pulled in time with his mouth. The torture made his cock jump.

  Rasping and tugging with his teeth, Asher watched Jenny toss her head. The lovely little noises she purred couldn’t have made him any harder. He abandoned her breast and elicited her protest.

  “Don’t you worry.” Asher kissed his way down the slope of one and up to the other. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He breathed over its erect tip, flicking his tongue and brushing with her lips. Her hums started again. Her hips gyrated, and her stilettoes slowly inched up the bed, until her legs were bent and the icepick heels were near her ass.

  “I ache, Ash.”

  He petted over her thong. “For me?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “For release?” His fingers slipped under the satin.

  “Uh-huh.” Her eyes screwed shut. Black feathers swayed by her arms.

  “I could watch you like this all day long.”

  “Don’t.” Jenny gasped. “I might die.”

  He skimmed his fingers along the slick folds. “Like silk. Bet you taste like honey.”

  Her head thrashed. “Don’t tease me anymore. I am dying.”

  They both were. Asher circled his thumb around her clit and his tongue over her nipple. Jenny’s moans turned into pleas. Her hips swayed and lifted, the spikes of her black heels digging into the bed.

  “Sweetheart, I’m having too much fun to stop.”

  “But I don’t want to come alone.” Her mouth gaped, and her eyes pinched. “Be with me. Please, Asher.”

  What was his holdup? Nothing, other than wanting to watch her fall apart again. He rolled from the bed, found his wallet, and slid a condom on.

  Jenny propped on her elbows, knees still bent. He snagged her thong off but kept her heels and boa in place. He’d never wanted a woman the way Jenny made him want.

  Sweat dampened his temples, tickled a spot between his shoulder blades. He wanted until he hurt. Wanted so much, so hard, that he wasn’t sure that fucking her would do anything but exasperate his need.

  Asher covered her body with his. His shaft touched her center, making him shiver. Jenny laid her hands on his shoulders. Each half-moon of her fingernails bit into his flesh. The scrapes and scratches surprised him and felt awesome. He hoped they’d leave marks and flexed his hips, pressing smoothly into her wet heat and hoping she’d claw him again.

  Her muscles clenched as he impaled her. “God, yes, Ash.”

  Hunger surged, and he was losing himself in her. His thighs spread hers, and he worked deeper and deeper, feeling her fall open for him. They hit a sinful rhythm, and his name fell from her lips again. It was pure music. Almost lyrical.

  Desperation and a fierce, barbaric, primal appetite controlled his body. He kissed her. Hard. Licking and biting and absorbing her essence. Just as hard as she kissed him back. Their mouths dueled. He wrapped an arm around her neck, and her heels crawled up his thighs, locking over his backside. He drove into her, and she embraced it, demanding more.

  Goddamn, he was going to come. The release burned close. It made him blind. Made him crazy. Made him so sure he could love—

  “Asher,” she screamed his name. Moaned again. Her head hung back. “I need—”

  She shuddered and froze, tightening in his arms. Her legs clamped against his back, and Jenny bucked. Her pussy rode his shaft, pulsing and throbbing at the intense demand of her climax.

  He gave up his barrier, everything he’d been holding back. His mind was frenzied. His lust unbridled.

  “Sweetheart,” tore from his lungs, burned into the air. He pumped through the torrid peak, shattering in her arms, and collapsed against her.

  Jenny wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Her clenching sweetness still convulsed, and he gasped for breath.

  Asher pressed his lips to hers. Not a kiss. The lip press was nothing more than needing to be connected in every conceivable way. He could fall asleep like this. Holding his heaven.

&nbs
p; They floated down together into silence. Finally, he could catch his breath, and the blood rushing in his ears slowed. She didn’t stir even as the boa’s feathers shimmied. Her eyes stayed shut, but he didn’t think she was asleep. What was going through her mind? Hell, what was going through his?

  CHAPTER SIX

  The unfamiliar bed might have coaxed Asher awake, but the warm woman curled naked against him was like a shot of high-octane espresso. He gathered her into his arms. “Morning, sweetheart.”

  He wasn’t one for morning-after chitchat. But it seemed his standard operating procedures had officially become a joke. Nothing he did or said to Jenny was his norm. Nothing inside his chest felt normal either. It was tight, but he felt… fulfilled. Odd since he’d been driving for that feeling with every career move and election. The answer had been in front of him the whole time.

  “I’m not a morning person,” Jenny mumbled and burrowed against his side.

  He reached to the nightstand and checked his watch. Seven in the morning. Getting a late start.

  When was the last time he had slept in? He couldn’t recall. A campaign conference call was in thirty minutes, but that could be done from bed. Mostly he listened while his re-election team discussed the campaign stops, polling, and focus groups.

  If something interested him, he would pipe up. But the logistics of campaign work numbed his mind. Let him do his day job, then he’d be happy. But that’s not how elections were won. There were fundraisers to attend, commercials to shoot, messaging to try.

  Just thinking about the call bored him, but he had to get up and figure out what he should do about clothes. Didn’t plan this very well, McIntyre. His suit and shirt were strewn across the room. Wrinkles weren’t a good look for a man hounded and photographed on the campaign trail.

  He grabbed his phone and touched the screen. Too many e-mails and text messages to count. Shit. He’d forgotten that Murphy was e-mailing over the Maxwell file. He clicked the e-mail open and downloaded the picture. No one he recognized. The file didn’t share any new information either.