Men In Uniform Anthology

by Delilah Devlin

  His hands tightened on her as he said, “We really should go inside, baby. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  She lifted her head to smile at him. “Is that so?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He traced a fingertip along her cheek. “We’ve got the whole night ahead of us and a lot of time to make up for.”

  She bit down hard on her bottom lip at the feral glint in his eye and the sensual smile playing at his lips. They were enough to make her tingle all over again. It’d been forever since any guy touched her, as she’d been in the mother of all dry spells, but she was pretty sure no guy ever made her feel the spicy-hot sensations that still swirled through her.

  He skimmed back down along her thighs, then shifted to ease from her. She climbed back across the console, into her seat, and smoothed her skirt back down while he righted himself as well.

  Light flooded the interior as he opened the door, and she shivered at the blast of chilly air as it swirled through the car.

  The wind bit into her, so she shrugged back into Steve’s jacket. That clean, after-rain scent wafted up from the wool to tease her nose once more. When he came around the car and his hand settled at the small of her back, she almost sighed out loud. There was something so protective about the simple gesture. So simple and so natural. It just felt right.

  His room was the last one, backed by thick woods that would muffle the traffic on Route Seven during the warmer months, but since the trees were bare, the hum and bustle rumbled in the distance.

  He swiped his key card, the light turned green, and he pushed on the handle to open the door. “After you.”

  Butterflies filled her stomach, their wings battering her insides something fierce as she stepped into the dark motel room. The door closed softly behind her, a light switch clicked, and the lamp on the far end of the writing desk bathed that corner of the room in a soft golden glow.

  Steve set the key card on the writing desk, dug his wallet from his pants pocket to toss atop the card, then swept the cap from his head to join the pile as well. He raked his fingers through his dark hair. For a moment, he looked almost sheepish, as if he’d lured her there for nefarious purposes but now had second thoughts about it.

  But then he smiled and closed the gap between them. He caught her face in his hands, his thumbs moving gently along her cheeks. He tilted her face back, loomed over her as he murmured, “Lauren,” just before he bent toward her.

  His lips were warm and soft as they moved against hers. Her lips parted on their own, a shiver running down her back when he teased her upper lip with the tip of his tongue. She fought off another shiver as his tongue teased hers, thick and hot and slow. He kissed her deeply, took his time to explore, to tease, to make her head spin and her heart race. It’d been a lifetime since a kiss made her so lightheaded and wonderful. No, not a lifetime, just not since last August, when he kissed her for the first time.

  He left her breathless, brought every last one of her senses screaming to life. This was like being kissed for the first time. Like losing her virginity all over again. She felt as if she stood on the precipice of something so incredible, she had to experience it to believe it.

  He released her face to ease his arms around her waist. Those arms were so solid, so muscled. It was amazing, really. She dated plenty of guys in good shape, but judging by what she’d seen even in the low light of the car and how Steve felt against her, not a single one of those men even came close to him.

  Their lips met again. And again. Fire flared once more as she wound her arms about his neck, let her fingers creep up into his hair, and when he bent her back and her breasts pressed into his chest, she couldn’t help but sigh into his mouth.

  His lips were hot and hungry, his hands moving first up along her back, then down to the hem of her skirt. He tugged upward, his fingers skimming along the backs of her thighs, over her backside. She wanted to touch him. Wanted to run the tip of her tongue along his neck, from below his left ear, down into the slope of his shoulder. Wanted to peel off every layer of clothing and kiss every inch of skin she bared. She wanted to explore his body, to tease and taste him.

  She wanted to see exactly what he looked like, to have her fantasy finally come to life.

  His cologne teased her nose with its clean scent, heady and intoxicating. The muscles along his shoulders tightened as she dug her fingernails in. She shivered against him, arched to meet him, and when he lifted her so they were hip to hip, she couldn’t hold back her sharp gasp.

  Her belly fluttered as he turned, brought her to the bed, pressed her into the soft surface, and covered her body with his. She welcomed his weight, reveled in the feeling of being surrounded by him. He broke the kiss to sweep down along her throat, into the hollow, then down into the scoop of her neckline. Her back arched, her head spinning as his lips moved teasingly along her collarbone.

  She caught his tie to loosen it and couldn’t hold back her laugh when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot behind her right knee. As she let out that laugh, he lifted his head to smile at her. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No.” She whisked the tie from his neck and reached for the top button of his shirt. “I’m ticklish.”

  He winked as she trailed her fingers down his chest, undoing those buttons as she moved. He rolled his shoulders while she tugged, and the shirt slid free to hit the floor. Beneath it, he wore a soft cotton T-shirt, which he grabbed with one hand to yank over his head. It joined the pile in the shadows alongside the bed, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she drank in the sight of him.

  There was not an ounce of fat to be found on his body. Not one. Thick bands of sculpted muscle stretched across his shoulders, across his chest, down over his belly. He was every bit as amazing as she remembered. Her memory hadn’t lied or embellished him at all.

  Without thinking, she traced her index finger along the narrow trail of dark hair running from his chest down along the middle of his abs to his navel. Even that was perfect.

  She slid her finger back up, smiling as his eyes slid shut. There was almost no give against his skin. He was all muscle. Solid, beautiful muscle.

  He dipped to kiss her again, and she gave herself up to the moment, fire swirling through her as he caught the tie of her wraparound dress and tugged. Moments later, her dress lay in those same shadows, and he kissed his way along the inner curve of her left breast.

  “Christ, I love a woman in black lace,” he whispered, expertly unhooking, then tugging off her bra. It dangled from his hand by one strap, then vanished into the darkness below them. “But this has got to go, I’m afraid. It’s hiding what I really want to see.”

  He looked down, whispering, “A garter belt…” as he hooked one thumb in the lace to pop it free. “God damn, Ren…”

  “What?” She smiled up at him as he popped the second garter, then moved to her other leg. The garter belt and black thigh-highs were a last minute decision, and a wise one, judging by the fire smoldering in his eyes.

  He loosened the last garter, then bent to kiss her again. His fingers trailed along her inner thigh, up toward her lacy black thong. He hooked finger in the top of the thong to whisk it from her.

  Her cheeks grew warm under his intense, dark-eyed gaze. Bedroom eyes described Steve’s perfectly. His eyes practically smoldered as his gaze slid from her face downward, and when he whispered, “Perfect,” her entire body went hot.

  It certainly wasn’t a word she’d use to describe herself, but she wasn’t about to argue with him, either. Especially when he traced around her left nipple with one gentle fingertip. His eyes flicked up, she met his stare, and when a slow smile lifted his lips, she was pretty sure she was about to completely melt.

  No man ever looked at her like this. Not ever. She couldn’t recall any one of them seeming so absolutely fascinated by her the way Steve seemed to be. He watched her. His gaze shifted to her nipple as he teased it and it beaded beneath his touch.

  He lifted smoky eyes to hers. “What’re y
ou thinking?”

  Thinking? How could she possibly think anything when those tingles flooded her, when they caused an almost unbearable tightness inside her?

  No, that wasn’t true. She was thinking how much she wanted to fuck him again.

  He gently pinched her nipple, the pain mingling with the pleasure to make her pussy clench. “Too hard?” he murmured.

  “Not at all.” She managed to force the words out as he pinched again, then bent over to take that nipple in his mouth. His tongue came rough upon the sensitive bead, swirling about it, flicking against it, until that tightness between her thighs threatened to drive her crazy.

  He nipped, soothed with a gentle kiss, then moved down. The light danced along his hair, highlighted the swells of muscle along his shoulders, down his arms. Those muscles bunched, then smoothed with each movement as he kissed his way along her belly.

  Without thinking, she slid her fingers through his thick hair, biting down on her bottom lip as he flicked the tip of his tongue against the inner curve of her thigh.

  He nipped. He kissed. He made her blood practically sing with each teasing caress. No man ever made her ache as much as he did. No man ever took the time to explore her as he did. He moved down—to her knee, her calf, her ankle—before creeping back up.

  By the time he was back to her hip, she wanted to shove him onto his back and take charge before he drove her completely crazy, but at the slightest bit of pressure from her hands on his chest, he chuckled and whispered, “I don’t think so, baby.” He sank to his knees as he nuzzled the fluff of golden hair between her legs. His fingers pressed into the backs of her thighs as he speared her with the tip of his tongue.

  She was pretty sure her eyes rolled up into her skull as he slid his tongue about her clit. The jolt tore through her, warmed her, and without thinking, she shoved her fingers into his hair, which was just as thick and soft as it looked. With each slow lick, she bit down on her bottom lip. Dear God, this felt so good! She never would have believed him to be so gentle, not by looking at him. He came across as a typical muscle-head, more concerned with his own pleasure than anything else.

  But the fact of it was he treated her as if he was already in awe of her, and she didn’t quite know what to do.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true. She moved against him, her fingers twisting in his hair as he brought her to the brink of utter nirvana. She wanted him, wanted to take him in her mouth, to run her tongue along his length, around his breadth, to bring him to that very same edge and then shove him over.

  Her climax built. Slow. Steady. Each muscle tensed in anticipation. He held her there, suspended over the abyss, her hips straining toward him, moving to keep the sweet friction against her. He flicked the tip of his tongue against her oh-so-sensitive clit.

  “Steve!” The explosion was almost atomic in its fury. Tingling hot, exquisitely delightful fire tore through her with each flick of his tongue. He knew how much pressure to use, how to suckle and make her shudder against him with each delicious spasm.

  Her knees gave, and she collapsed against him. He caught her, sweeping her into his arms to capture her lips with his. She tasted her own musk on his lips, breathed in her own scent, and as he pressed her into the rough carpet, she sank her fingernails into his bare shoulders to pull him hard against her.

  His kisses were greedy, hungry, and when she shoved against his chest, he obliged, rolling onto his back. He smiled as she straddled him, his hands hitting the carpet on either side of his head as she tugged at his belt once more.

  The buckle rattled, the button and zipper gave her no trouble, and when she gripped the waists of both his trousers and his briefs, he lifted his hips. He offered up a sigh as he sprang free, and it was his turn to thrust his fingers into her hair as she bent over to trace the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock. He was harder than ever before, silken smooth and hot, a bubble of clear fluid rising to the opening in the head. She took him deep, letting her tongue swirl slowly about him as she gave a soft pull against him.

  “Ren…” His voice was low and gravelly, his hips rising to meet her as she pulled again. She flicked her tongue around the ridge between the head and the shaft, slid down until the soft dark curls at the base tickled her nose. She slid back, until the head was all she held, and teased with the softest flicks she could manage.

  “Jesus Christ,” he whispered as he twisted his fingers tighter in her hair, held her still as he thrust into her mouth. “Oh, just like that, baby… just like that…”

  She traced her fingernails up along his inner thighs. She gently cradled his balls, giving them an even more gentle squeeze, which made him thrust harder. She pulled him free with a soft pop and playfully nipped the side of his shaft, then soothed it with the tip of her tongue.

  He reached for her, catching her nipples with his fingertips to pluck at them, his gaze never leaving hers as he managed to whisper, “Christ, you’re beautiful, Ren… So fucking

  beautiful.”

  She smiled, rising to flick her tongue against the tip of his cock once more. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “What girls?” He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

  The pleasure zinged through her, made her wetter still, and when he tugged on her hands to draw her up, she complied.

  To her surprise, though, he didn’t let her position herself over him. Instead, he inched down until his head was between her thighs once more. No. He couldn’t want to eat her pussy again, could he?

  And could she stand another orgasm of that magnitude?

  Who cared? She was up for the challenge. Not that he gave her the chance to protest. Instead, he spread her lower lips and greedily pulled her against him. At once, fire swirled, the pleasure white-hot and delicious.

  She rocked against him, let the stubble along his chin stimulate her as well. His hands clamped along her thighs, his tongue unrelenting as he flicked it against her clit. The waves built, the pleasure grew, and she threw back her head as the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had tore through her with blinding fury. She felt dizzy, reaching to steady herself with the side of the bed as he eased out from beneath her and rose onto his knees behind her.

  He stood, caught her about the waist to ease her to her feet, then bent her over onto the bed. Foil tore. And then…

  He slid into her from behind, his arm wrapped about her waist to keep her still. He lifted her and thrust hard and deep. He drew back and thrust again, even harder this time. The arm about her waist loosened, and she shivered as he slid deep again. He caught her by the hips, his thrusts swifter and harder now.

  She couldn’t hold back her cry, her fingers twisting in the floral quilt covering the bed. With each powerful thrust, she tugged it closer, her pussy squeezing him of its own volition to send spasms of fire through her.

  “Ren… Oh, holy Christ… Yes… Squeeze me, baby…” He bit off each word in time with his thrusts. Harder and harder, he surged, burying himself deep. “Oh, shit… Ren… Oh, baby… I’m gonna come…”

  He slid one hand around, into her folds, found her clit, and squeezed. She came in a hot flash, tears actually stinging her eyes as he arched hard and exploded at the same time. She felt him come, felt each pulse, the shudder in his body, the way every muscle seemed to go rigid with that one last thrust.

  She collapsed onto the bed, fighting for air, gasping as the pleasure continued thrumming through her. Steve sank against her, also breathless, his cheek pressed into her back as he managed to whisper, “Lauren… Christ… What you do to me.”

  The quilt pressed into her cheek and smelled musty, but she didn’t care. She smiled as he pressed a gentle kiss between her shoulder blades. “What do I do to you?”

  “Make me feel like a kid losing his virginity all over again.”

  She peered at him over her shoulder. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He winked. “What girls? It’s just you, honey. And it has been for a
long time.”

  With that, he stood, and she rolled onto her side as he flopped down beside her, eyes closed, a look of utter contentment on his face. Her hand trembled as she brushed his hair away from his forehead. He smiled as she stroked his hair. “That feels nice.”

  “Then I’m doing it right.”

  A low chuckle rolled across her bare skin, followed by the light caress of his lips against the inner curve of her breast. “You’re doing all of it right.”

  “Well, that’s something.”

  “That it is. Hold that thought again. I’ll be right back.” He brushed her lips with a kiss, eased away from her to rise from the bed to disappear into the bathroom. The air grew decidedly chillier, so she tugged back the covers and slid beneath them, the sheets warm and smooth and smelling of crisp autumn air. She rolled onto her stomach, hands folded beneath her cheek, and let her eyes close as a delicious drowsiness washed over her.

  The sudden rush of cool air startled her, but then the heat of Steve’s body against hers took away the chill. The bed dipped as he leaned over to brush a gentle kiss along her nape. “You asleep?”

  “Not yet.” Sheets rustled as she rolled onto her right side to face him. The room was dark now; only a hint of light came from the muted beams of the streetlights outside, but it was enough. Mussed from her frantic fingers, his dark hair poked up this way and that, and he looked as drowsily content as she felt.

  He reached for her, drawing an arm about her shoulders to tug her close. As she curved against him, he said, “It was a nice memorial, Lauren.”

  She looked up at him. In the semi-darkness, she could just make out him staring up at the ceiling, his dark hair fluffed slightly over his forehead. She rested her hand on his solid belly, the muscles of his abdomen firm ridges beneath her palm, her fingertips glided through the dark hair curling away from his skin. His fingers grazed her upper arm, toward her shoulder, and swept back down, and then he turned and her eyes closed when he pressed a kiss into the top of her head and murmured, “We should’ve done this last summer.”