Men Out of Uniform

by Sylvia Day

  “Remember what I said? Joined at the hip.”

  Sophia shivered. His warm breath caressed her neck just as his body heat pulsed behind her. “I think we can part long enough to bathe.” She wanted some private time to figure out how she was going to get away from Colin. Her belly did a slow roll. Leaving him was not going to be easy.

  “I’ll scrub your back.” He brushed her long hair from her shoulder and pressed his lips just behind her ear. Gooseflesh erupted along her skin. She wanted to close her eyes, lean back into his hard chest, and let him hold her for the rest of the night. But she had to go.

  He slipped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest just as she wished. His lips trailed along her ear.

  Her knees shook when his tongue slid languorously around the shell of her ear. He sucked in her earlobe. Her nipples stiffened. She closed her eyes and let herself forget for just a few minutes. After all, they were safe and both consenting adults. And wasn’t she entitled to a little pleasure after all they had been through?

  His fingers traced around her aching nipples, then one at a time he plucked them as his tongue swirled along the shell of her ear. Sophia moaned, arching against him. Everything about this man excited her. He was dangerous, passionate, and knew exactly what her body craved.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you, Sophie. I swear on my life,” he said huskily.

  His words brought her back to the here and now. Reality.

  She turned in his arms and looked up into his intense blue eyes. It took her a moment to compose herself so that she could speak without her voice cracking with emotion. She believed Colin, but she could not make the same vow. “I wish I could promise you the same. Even if Angelo goes to prison, he won’t rest until one of his thugs brings your head to him on a platter. And you know he can do it from prison.”

  “Let me worry about that,” he said, lowering his lips to hers. She welcomed the kiss. She welcomed the comfort he gave. She welcomed all that Colin Daniels had to give, but with one exception. She would not allow him to forfeit his life. That she would not take. If she went back to New York with Colin, Angelo would kill him.

  Her heart ached at just the thought of losing him. She gasped as the sudden realization that she loved him slammed into her heart. She had always loved him. That night he made love to her, she fell in love with him. He had been so gentle, so loving, so reverent. He had made the terrible years after, bearable. It was her dreams of him that had pushed her to get out of bed in the morning. The fantasy of what could be between a man and woman. Not the violence of Angelo or the weakness of her father.

  She would not thank him by leading Angelo to him.

  His lips grew more demanding and the emotional hooks he’d already imbedded into her heart sank deeper. She could give in to what they both wanted. A single night of passion. Maybe one that would carry her through another ten years? Or would it destroy rather than save her? Prove fatal to her heart?

  She craved him, but losing herself to him on all levels would only make a bad situation worse. Fear trumped her craving. Fear of wanting more. Fear for his life. Fear of falling deeper in love with a man she would already die for.

  She tore her lips from his. “Colin, we need to clean up your arm.”

  “Don’t worry about me. The captain’s going to stitch me up,” he said, trying to recapture her lips.

  She turned away, not brave enough to look him in the eye, afraid of what he might see.

  “Stop avoiding me, Sophie.”

  She swallowed and looked up at him, forcing a soft smile. “I’m not, I’m just nervous.”

  He looked past her to the tub. “A good soak might help relax you,” he said, grinning as if he had plans for something else that would relax her too. “Fill that monstrosity. I’ll be in the bedroom getting fixed up.”

  He left her then. And took all the warmth with him. Feeling an odd sense of emptiness, she pushed runaway plans from her thoughts. She would think of them later. Sophia turned her attention to the large room. As bathrooms went, this one was a slice of heaven. The huge spa-sized sunken tub was smack-dab in the middle of the room, with two walk-up steps. Nearby, a carved stone oversized shower with two heads, a triple Italian stone vanity, a commode, bidet, and a large baker’s-type rack with big fluffy folded towels and all kinds of lotions, bath salts, and oils. How odd, she thought, that a single military man would have all the necessities of a lady’s bath. Maybe there was more to the captain than met the eye.

  There was only one aspect of the bathroom Sophia didn’t care for. While there were high skylights, there was no way out except back through the bedroom. But that meant no one could come in either. No one but Colin. That meant she was safe. For now.

  She quietly shut the door and turned the two waterfall faucets on full blast. She took her time selecting bath salts and oils. She set them on the edge of the tub, then took out two big fluffy towels and nearly squealed with delight when she opened the single drawer beneath and found a folded white one-piece terry cloth patio dress. She pulled it out, hoping the captain would not mind her borrowing it while she was there. She needed to wash her clothes. And, she exhaled nervously, while Colin was asleep tonight, she’d slip out the window and take off to parts unknown. If she didn’t know where she was going, how could Angelo track her? She would take some of Colin’s cash and lay low for as long as she could, then start moving.

  Eventually, she’d land somewhere, make a few bucks waiting tables, then move on again. She accepted that as long as Angelo was alive, she would never be safe. She also accepted that as long as she and Colin were not connected, he would live.

  When the mini swimming pool was half-full, Sophia stripped, clipped her hair up with several bobby pins she’d found in the vanity drawer, and sunk into the steamy, velvety water. Ohhh, that felt sooo good. She submerged herself up to her neck and savored the exquisite simple pleasure of a bath. Resting her head on the curved marble cutout made just for that reason, she turned the pulsing jets on and liquefied more. Her muscles were so tense they ached. The pulsing jets pounded and rolled against her stiff body, loosening the tension one inch at a time. What she would not give for a full-body massage.

  “You look content, Sophia.” Colin’s deep voice sounded from less than a foot away. She opened her eyes and caught her breath. He wore only his jeans. His defined chest and abdominal muscles shimmered in the humidity of the room. The thick muscles in his arms and shoulders rippled with the slightest movement. The dark horse tattoo along his right side made sense now. It was his Company insignia.

  She looked at his right biceps and was impressed by the neat row of stitches across it. She noticed he had another scar about four inches long that ran along the inside of his left biceps, and another one just like it farther down his forearm. She pointed to them. “How did you get those?”

  “Knife fight in Fallujah.”

  For the first time, Sophia saw Colin as the survivor he was. His childhood, high school, the marines, hand–to-hand combat in a foreign country, the task force. He had the scars to prove he had engaged and walked away the victor. Could he win against Angelo? A spark of hope lit up in her heart. If anyone could, it was Colin. “I’m glad you won.”

  “I always win,” he said. No arrogance, just fact.

  He pulled off his jeans, leaving only his boxer briefs between them. He stepped up one step, then the other. Sophia’s belly did a slow flipflop. She moved across the tub out of harm’s way. “What are you doing? You can’t get your arm wet!”

  He grinned that boyish grin that got her every time. He shucked his underwear and stepped into the tub and then sank down into the frothy bubbles. “Come here,” he said hoarsely, catching her eyes with his hot gaze.

  She shook her head and moved around the perimeter away from him. “No, Colin. No more.”

  “You asked me to make love to you. What better place than right here?”

  She grinned but held firm to her resolve. It was going
to be hard enough saying a silent good-bye as it was. “I asked you to have sex with me. Not make love. And that was before—”

  Lightning quick, he struck out a hand and grabbed her wrist. She squealed as he pulled her toward him. Her bottom moved helplessly in the warm oiled water.

  “Would you believe me if I told you that in all the years I have been sexually active, I have only made love to one woman, one time?”

  “That’s a lie! You’ve had sex with every girl at St. John’s and probably every woman in New York!”

  “Except one.”

  Sophia stopped fighting him, her curiosity piqued. “So you’re saying for you there is a difference between having sex and making love?”

  “Isn’t there for you?”

  “Well, yes, but I didn’t think—”

  “The caveman could distinguish between the two acts?”

  She shrugged. “Something like that.”

  He drew her into the circle of his arms. “There’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.” Her bottom slid up his thighs and his very thick, very rigid cock speared the inside of her thigh.

  She caught her breath. If she just moved an inch or two to the left, he would be inside of her. “Yes, there”—she swallowed hard trying to breath normally—“certainly is.”

  His hands locked behind her waist as he pulled her even closer to him. Sophia grabbed his shoulders, pushing him away as she arched, resisting.

  “You have amazing tits,” he groaned, catching a taut nipple in his mouth.

  The delicious sensation sent shock waves straight to her pussy. “Oh.” She gasped, not knowing what else to say. Her entire body lit up in a torrent of flames.

  His hands slid down her slick back, his fingers grasping her butt cheeks. He moved his hips and his cock popped up between them.

  As Colin captured the other nipple he hoarsely said, “Touch me, Sophie.”

  The ache in his voice was too much to resist. Sophia opened her eyes and stared into his deep blue ones. Her right hand slid down his hard, slick chest, down his belly to his hip. When she touched the wide tip of his cock, he hissed in a breath and flexed against her palm. She traced her fingertip around the head, then just below it. He thrust against her. Yet she didn’t fully touch him. She traced her fingers down the pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft and gently cupped his balls.

  “You’re a prick tease, Sophia,” he growled before he devoured her nipple.

  The passion of his possessive action stirred her primal woman. He tightened his grip on her derrière, pressing her fully against his hips. Sophia threw her head back and grasped his straining cock and slowly began to pump him.

  She wondered what it would be like to make love to his cock again. She didn’t think of the ways Angelo demeaned her when he forced her to touch him in ways she didn’t want to. Colin was nothing like Angelo. He enjoyed pleasing her. Making her feel as if she were the only woman in his world.

  His big hands slid around to her breasts, cupping them as his lips suckled her. Her entire body loosened, and Sophia let herself go with it. She wanted this night. She would kill for one hundred more, but she knew she could only have this one. It would have to be enough. She took Colin into both of her hands and in slow, deliberate strokes, she worked him into such a lather his hips bucked against her. His breathing became labored. Abruptly Sophia move away from him. She shut the faucets off and turned to him. His skin flushed red, his chest rose and fell in short, shallow turns. “Sit on the seat,” she hoarsely said pointing to the seat carved into the marble.

  He eyed her skeptically but did as she said. Only his legs and ass were in the water, and that glorious erection of his shimmered hotly like an obelisk rising from the seven seas. She moved toward him and sat up on her knees. “I owe you for last night,” she teased, then licked a wide swath around the head of his dick. His hips rose. She pushed him back into the seat. And then went down on him.

  Colin’s body stiffened as she took his cock all the way down to her tonsils. His fingers dug into her silky soft hair. God, he loved the way she sucked him. Like she was worshiping him. Slow, deep, reverent. Her hands stroked, cupping his balls gently. Her tongue was lethal the way it flicked and rolled around his head. He was so fucking stiff, he was literally in pain. He wanted inside of her so bad he wasn’t sure what he would do if she said no.

  Her head moved up and down, her tongue licking him like a melting ice-cream cone on a hot summer day. Her lips were locked, soft and succulent, clamped around him as if he were her last meal. Her hands wrapped around him as she sucked. Slow, deep, up and down. “Jesus Christ.” He was coming as quick as a sixteen-year-old. Her lips tightened and her hands again cupped his balls. His fingers tightened around her head, his hips thrust in and out of her mouth. “Sophia!” he cried out as he came in a violent burst in her mouth. She hung on, and with those luscious lips of hers, she sucked every ounce of cum from his balls.

  Colin’s chest rose and fell in short, shallow dips as he reached out his arms and hung on to the edge of the tub. He slumped back against the marble side. He could not take his eyes off Sophia’s pink little tongue darting and licking the last vestiges of his ejaculation from his still very hard cock. Just the sight of her kept him hard. Her lips were so red, lush, and soft. Her slender fingers stroked him. Her nails were short but neat, with a clear coat of polish on them. Her skin was as flushed as her lips, smooth and sultry from the humidity and the oil. The urge to fuck her was so overwhelming, he swelled in her hand.

  “You are evil,” he moaned, pulling her up into his lap. Slipping his arms around her, he nuzzled her neck. Her pulse beat wildly against his lips. Loosing his fingers in her wild mass of hair, he pulled back just enough to kiss her, not caring that she just swallowed what she swallowed. Her lips—soft, willing, inviting—parted for his. He lost himself in her. She turned into him, her skin sliding against his. Every lush curve of her body imprinted itself on his skin. He was losing himself to her, and he didn’t know how to stop it. “That was amazing,” he said softly.

  She smiled against his lips. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. That was my inaugural blow job.”

  “What?” He didn’t believe it. Surely, she and her husband ...

  “Angelo left that to his whores. I was happy to let him.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her hot tits against his chest. “I’m sure you’ve had better, but I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you.”

  He tightened his arms around her. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I’ve never had a blow job before, but I can honestly say, no woman has ever made it into such—art.”

  She smacked him and wiggled out of his lap and slid across the huge tub to the other side. She picked up a big sponge and poured bath oil onto it. The way she was sitting, she was exposed tits up. She smeared the sponge across her full tits. Her nipples stiffened. So did his dick. “Sophia,” he said hoarsely. Her big green eyes looked up at him trustingly. He swallowed hard. Her life was literally in his hands. A rush of emotion so foreign to him that it felt like a kick to the gut took him so completely by surprise he could not speak. It wasn’t just him protecting her because it was his job, it was more than that. Much, much more. So much more that he could not define it. He didn’t want to. It scared the shit out of him.

  “Colin?” she asked, looking concerned.

  He shook his head and collected himself. He smiled, covering his momentary nose dive into sentimentality.

  God help him, but he wanted a future with one woman—this woman. Yes, damn it. This woman. The only woman. The realization was emancipating and terrifying at the same time. He didn’t want to feel what he felt. It was complicated with his work, and he needed time for the emotions to settle—they were so damn new and unexpected. “I’m going to fuck you proper.” He sunk into the tub and moved toward her. “Then, I’m going to make love to you like you’ve never been made love to before.”

  He watched her process his words, then decide if she was going to
play coy or—She shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. Christ. What had he done now?

  “Colin, I—” She looked down at her hand holding the sponge. A tear plopped on her breast. “I don’t want this. I mean—” She looked up at him. “I do. But I’m afraid I’ll—”

  He shushed her with a finger to her lips. He knew what she was going to say. Sex would complicate things. Why did it for women but not men? Or at least, not him? Well, the first time it complicated things for him. What he felt as he held her in his arms all those years ago scared him witless. He had run. Far and fast. He traced a finger across her right breast. “I won’t hold it against you for whatever you feel for me, Sophie.”

  Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes flashed. “Because while I may have feelings for you, and sex or making love will most likely make me feel more, it’s okay because you’re a fucking emotional retard?”

  Colin blanched at her outburst. “I have feelings too, you know.” Feelings that, if he admitted them, would change everything in his life. Looking down the barrel of gun? No sweat. Telling Sophia he loved her? Terrifying.

  “What exactly are your feelings for me, Colin?”

  He wanted to say the words but he chickened out. “I’m attracted to you.”

  “You’re attracted to anything with a vagina and tits!”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, how careless of me. You’re attracted to anything with a vagina, tits, and shit for brains.” She threw the sponge at him and climbed out of the tub.

  He could not help but admire how her flushed skin glistened, and how sleek and fuckable her lush body looked. She turned a hot gaze on him. He grinned at her. “You’re impossible!” she shrieked.

  She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body and stomped from the bathroom.

  Chapter 7

  Knowing he had to fix what he just broke, Colin stepped dripping wet from the tub and strode naked into the bedroom. Wrapped tightly in her towel as if it would protect her from the world, Sophia sat in a rattan peacock chair near the window. She turned her head and stared daggers at him. He knew why she was mad, and knew he was a coward for not professing his feelings. He knew how to fix it, but he just could not quite pull the trigger. What if he was just caught up in the heat of the moment? His stomach did a slow roll. He raked his fingers through his hair and looked sheepishly at her. “Does this mean we’re not having sex now?”