by Sosie Frost
Her gaze snapped to meet mine. “I am not scared.”
“Then prove it. Let’s get the hell out of Butterpond. Fly out of the damn nest so you can make one of your own.”
She hesitated, her words soft. “And how can I be sure I won’t end up even more alone?”
Her eyes had darkened. Big. Wide.
Scared?
At least I wasn’t the only one who was fucking terrified.
What the hell was I supposed to say to her? What could I give her? My word? Wasn’t worth shit. I had no idea who I was anymore—but she was the reason I searched for an answer.
I’d wanted nothing more than to claim her as my own. But did I even have a chance?
She was pulling away. And maybe she shared the same resistance, the same fears that I had.
I could support a family. I could make the money and ensure she and the baby were safe and had everything they needed. But beyond that?
I’d survived a hell of a lot of trauma, but I wasn’t sure all of me had lived. A hardened, shell of a man remained after the injury. Blood changed a man. Blood defined a man.
Blood ruined a man.
If I could offer her any promise, it was that I never wanted to cause her pain, even when my own selfish urges refused to see the truth, to release her from my damned obsession.
I didn’t have much in my life that I liked, but Gretchen was good for me. I healed with her. I felt with her. I had a purpose with her. Each time I took her that flicker of humanity burned a bit brighter inside me.
What man could walk away from his own salvation, even if he knew how it would inevitably end?
I pulled her close, cupping her cheek. She met my lips with an eagerness that ached my chest.
She was desperate for answers, but I couldn’t give anything. Not words or affection. I’d never give her a promise I couldn’t keep or a lie I’d never speak.
“We should make sure your ankle isn’t broken,” I said.
She hugged me tight, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m not worried about my foot anymore.”
Because she knew.
It wasn’t her ankle at risk of breaking.
It was her heart.
16
Gretchen
They said ginger ale tasted better on an airplane.
Wonder what it did to ovulation?
I knocked my head against the window and clutched the armrests. I didn’t normally like flying, but I especially despised it while trapped in a metal tube thirty-five thousand feet above the nearest available bed.
Marius nudged my hand. Sweet. Checking on me though his knuckles were white. He clutched the same arm rests I’d used as a stress reliever.
A line of sweat beaded on his brow.
Uh-oh. I thought the interview would spook him, not the flight to DC. I tucked my hand over his.
“Are you okay?” I squeezed his fingers.
He nodded but stayed silent.
I tried again. “No wonder you joined the Navy. Not a good flyer?”
“The Navy has planes.”
“Oh.”
His jaw tightened. The muscles in his neck tensed. “Flying never bothered me before…”
“Before?”
“Before the medical evac.”
Wow. Not the time to be thrilled, but my heart surged. It was the first time in days that Marius had opened up about anything.
But he didn’t want comfort, and I wasn’t about to embarrass him. I nodded.
“I’m not a great flyer,” I said. “Today is worse. It’s the perfect time. I have such a good feeling about…” I pointed to my tummy. “I just know it’d work. I know it.”
Confidence…or desperation?
Marius checked his watch. “We’ll have time. Once we get to DC, we’ll check into the hotel and take five minutes before the party—”
“Five minutes?” Romance, thy name was procreation. “Sailor, I can’t do…that…and then go meet those guys from the company.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” I squirmed. Was he really going to make me say it on a plane? “I need time for it to…”
His eyebrows rose. “To…?”
“Settle.”
“Settle?”
“Stick.” I glanced to the business man in the aisle across from us and did not appreciate his smirk. I lowered my voice. “I can’t get up and walk around in a dress after…that.”
“Just remember to wear panties for this interview.”
Very funny. “I need to stay on my back, elevate my legs.”
His hand relaxed. “Believe me, sweetness. That’s how I’d love to keep you.”
“But we need more than five minutes. And we need to do it ASAP. It will work this time.”
“You said that before.”
Yeah. And it’d caused many too many sleepless nights since then. “I was right about those days too. We just didn’t get it in time. I think our window of opportunity is very tight.”
“Tighter than you can imagine.”
The business man snorted, nearly spilling his coffee.
Great.
I elbowed Marius. Fortunately, the early morning flight paid more attention to their newspapers and laptops than the would-be baby-daddy causing a scene.
“Shush.” I pouted. “People are gonna hear.”
“So?” He smirked. “I should shout it from the rooftops. I’m gonna fuck this girl tonight.”
But, as much as I loved the scandalous proposition, the worry remained. “I have no idea if it’ll be okay tonight.”
“It’ll be better than okay.” Marius set his jaw. “Might not have a baby, but you’ll be satisfied either way.”
“You know I took my temperature before we left? Double and triple checked the calendars.” I sighed, crossing my legs with a huff of frustration. “I’m sure I’m sticky.”
“Oh, I’ll make you sticky.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m as frustrated is you are.” His eyes darted down. No way the tray table would rest over that.
I smacked him. “Aren’t you supposed to store that in an overhead compartment?”
“Won’t fit.”
He wasn’t lying. “You’re gonna get us arrested.”
“You could always take care of it for me.”
He wished. “I don’t know what you did on those military transports, but that is not allowed.”
Marius smirked. “Well, we won’t have time at the hotel. And we’ll run out of time after dinner. You’re not giving me a lot of options here, sweetness.”
“Yeah.” I wished I hadn’t checked the ovulation calendar on my phone. The sickly sweet daisy smiled from the app, though even her petals were starting to wilt. “I don’t want to miss any more opportunities. It’s only…”
“What?”
Why lie? “I thought this would have been…quicker.”
“No one said this would be easy,” he said. “In fact, I heard getting pregnant is hard. Very hard. Or maybe they say that about the daddy-to-be.”
“At least I’m not the only frustrated one.”
“We don’t have to be.”
I slouched in the seat. “Any suggestions?”
Marius glanced over the plane. “We can do it here.”
Turbulence had rocked the plane enough. We didn’t need to add any additional bumps.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said.
“Why not?”
Because he’d lost his damn mind, not his erection. “We’re on an airplane.”
“There’s a bathroom.”
If he wasn’t such a hardass who refused any help to cope with his pain, I’d have believed he snacked on one-too-many pain pills before hopping on the flight.
I shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have teased him. Marius was insatiable when it came to me. Just the thought of fucking a baby into me got him off. Of course, it’d stirred me too, but there was a time and place for suc
h primal, intimate behaviors.
And this was not it.
If I was going to survive the rest of our flight, I couldn’t get lost in his stare. Couldn’t imagine him holding me down. Couldn’t delight in his strength, embrace, or the possessive fury of his ravishment.
Taunting him was a dangerous game. I’d just told him I was ready for him to use, take, and breed.
Hell, we were lucky he didn’t mount me right there in the aisle of the plane.
I had to talk him down before he convinced me.
“We’d never get away with it,” I whispered. “People would know.”
“No one would pay any attention to us.” He leaned in close, tucking the arm rest between our seats. His voice deepened, raw with authority. “You made a promise to me, sweetness. You told me I could put a baby in your tummy. And I intend to do that. I will fuck you as many times as it takes, whenever and wherever that instinct demands.”
“But—”
“I’m gonna fuck you, and when I do, I’m gonna fill you with every last drop of my cum. And then I want you sitting here, reclined in this seat, seed in your belly, grateful. Grateful that we had a chance to put a baby in your fertile little womb. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
I squirmed, but I couldn’t hide my excitement from him. It was silly to even try. He could read my every thought just by how I’d looked at him, the words I’d whispered, and how willingly I surrendered to his touch. My devotion to this man was practically sinful, and he knew it.
My pussy clenched. Even she betrayed me—so empty, lonely, and desperate for his assault.
“You marked the calendar, took your temperature, even made me eat all those fertility foods,” he said. “You’ve done everything to ensure you’ll get pregnant…except surrender to me like a good little girl.”
Marius reached under my blanket. I’d worn a skirt—innocent fool that I was. Thinking I’d be safe from this man on an airplane, at dinner, at a party with his potential bosses. I straightened, but I couldn’t stop his hand in time. His finger grazed my inner thigh before he pushed my legs apart.
Uh-oh.
I bit my lip as he teased my panties, rubbing the cotton along my trembling folds.
“You’re already so wet.” His voice shadowed with confidence. “You must want this, don’t you? You must want me inside of you? Fucking you? Filling you to the brim with my cum?”
Marius pushed my panties aside, and his finger immediately found my entrance. The slickness betrayed me. He couldn’t move much, his wrist awkward against the seat, but the pressure inside my heating pussy was enough. I bucked my hips against his hand and hated myself for how desperately I needed his touch.
“We…we can’t.” My whisper cracked his he stroked my clit. “We can’t do this in public.”
He rubbed a little faster. “No one will see us.”
“How?”
“Get up. Go to the bathroom. Take your panties off. And wait for me.”
“But—”
“Play with yourself. Keep that little pussy wet for me.”
“Are you sure…”
“If this is the best time, you’re goddamned right I’m sure. I’m going to fuck you, fill you up, and then you can sit for the next hour and a half with a messy, creamy pussy, letting my cum soak inside you. Does that excite you?”
What was he doing to me? “I think so.”
“Wouldn’t you love to sit here in secret, all freshly fucked, slick and satisfied?”
I groaned. He quickened his pace.
“Wouldn’t you love to feel that heat? To know that the instant we step off this plane, you’ll have a baby growing in your tummy?”
These things never should have turned me on. This wasn’t romantic or wholesome. It wasn’t even about making the baby anymore.
Our sex was nothing but an excuse for a man to dominate a woman, and a woman to ache so deeply for her man that she offered herself anywhere, at anytime, for any reason, just to take every last jet of his seed inside her body.
His fingers prove me wild. His desire heated me with a ravenous insanity.
I needed him. I wanted him.
I unbuckled my seatbelt.
“That’s my girl.” Marius watched me, his eyes darkening. “I’ll follow in a minute.”
A minute? He hardly gave me thirty seconds, hardly enough time to enter the bathroom, panic, and realize that it was never gonna happen.
Marius reached the bathroom before I shut the door. With a giggle, I attempted to squeeze him inside with me.
Yeah, right.
I laughed. “There’s not nearly enough room.”
Marius pressed against me. Not like he had a choice. “If I’ve fucked you in your kitchen, I can fuck you here.”
“You won’t even climb up to my loft.”
“I’d be willing to try after this.”
Marius was six foot five, two hundred and twenty pounds of pure muscle. He was built like a monster, but hell if he could fit in the closet, under the bed, or in an airplane bathroom.
He stepped on my foot—the bad one. So much for keeping it wrapped tight. He apologized, but the bathroom didn’t let him maneuver into a better position. He slid his ass against the sink. I attempted to scoot between his legs.
The plane lurched. That was all we needed. He lost his footing and clattered onto the toilet.
My giggles didn’t help.
“Need to…adjust…” he said.
Except everything was tethered into place. The door could hardly stay closed. The toilet didn’t even have a lid.
How the hell did he expect to do this?
But a SEAL always had a plan.
Not a good one, but at least he had a plan.
We tangled our limbs, and, after an unfortunate slap to the part of him required for this procedure, he managed to set me on the sink. He said nothing, tapping his finger to his lips. I waited while he reached for his leg, fiddled with the joint, and removed the prosthetic. He handed the leg to me and hopped closer to the sink.
His bad leg fit neatly over the toilet.
I laughed, gripping his shirt to bring him closer. But Marius wasn’t in the mood for fun. He’d come to work, and this…
This was some difficult work.
He pressed closer, lifted my skirt, and pushed my panties to the side. I kissed him as he adjusted his pants. One leg didn’t offer him much stability, but at least we were together. I spread my legs, letting him fill me with everything he could offer.
“This is gonna be quick.” His voice lowered to a frustrated rasp. “You deserve a lot more than getting pinned against the wall, but now the only thing I want to do is pump my cum as deep inside you as possible.”
I shuddered. He’d be lucky if the orgasm didn’t shiver me from now until we landed.
I arched, but my foot slammed against the door. Whoops. I’d nearly opened it. I bent my knee, curling it over his waist instead. Maybe a little too hard. He leaned in, pinning my knee between him and the wall. My other foot had nowhere to go. I wagged it, limply, trying to find any position that didn’t immediately cramp my hip.
The faucet dug into my back, and the sink was too low. Marius usually kept a great pace…but he slouched as much as he could, doing a one-legged lunge with each thrust.
He slammed into me with a single, ferocious push. We both cried out. Me, because my back had collided with the faucet, shooting cold water down my skirt and into the sink. Him, because the motion had cramped is only good leg, and he tumbled forward, nearly putting his head through the fuselage.
This couldn’t get any worse.
At least, until the hard, furious pounding, echoed against the bathroom wall.
My eyes widened. I pushed Marius away, but there wasn’t enough room or time. He’d barely shoved his cock into his pants before the door kicked open and two silver badges flashed in our face.
“US Marshals!” The officer’s voice carried over the plane. “Keep your hands where we can see th
em. You’re under arrest.”
17
Marius
“And then…and then they said they diverted the fucking plane due to security concerns!”
Fred Alderson was three drinks into the meet-and-greet’s cocktail hour, though I would have bet a bottle of his favorite scotch that he’d been drinking since noon.
Probably my fault.
After Gretchen and I unintentionally had the plane fucking diverted—and after I’d missed my goddamned interview while we raced to DC—the men and women I was supposed to meet had carried on without me. They’d skipped the interview and headed right for the after-hours cocktails for the formal meet-and-greet/fundraiser in our hotel’s ballroom. Just an opportunity to interact with me outside of the office, to get a feel for the sort of man I was.
It didn’t go according to plan.
What should have been a day of interviews, drinks, and good impressions ended without a trial, thank fuck. But the tale of our unfortunate afternoon adventure had already spread. Apparently, Broughton Defense had ties to the TSA. It wasn’t everyday one of their potential employees needed a favor before the interview.
Discretion wasn’t nearly as entertaining as retelling the story for the fourth time that night.
Fred Alderson was one of Broughton’s senior administrators, a man who had never once served in any branch the Armed Forces. The sort who’d last faced danger when he’d accidentally broken a whiskey bottle in the sink.
He wrapped a chubby arm around my shoulders. His drink sloshed as he hooted, his face a bright shade of red.
“And then…” He laughed. “Get this—and then the Marshals…they confiscated this cock-sucker’s fake leg as evidence!”
Our audience laughed. Gretchen attempted to dissolve into her water. Couldn’t even have any wine, poor thing.
