“You have to.”
“Why? Why do I have to?”
“Because right now I’m trying to keep you alive, damn it. There’s a fucking lunatic out there who wants nothing more in this world than to see you dead. And as long as you’re doubting yourself, second-guessing every move, every emotion that you have, you’re not going to be in the right headspace. I need you clear. I need your thoughts with me and keeping you safe. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because it’s my job. I was hired to keep you safe. Carl brought me on this job to keep you alive. He made a promise to your father. Do you really want Carl to break his word? Do you want your father to have to bury his daughter?”
She tried not to be disappointed by his answer, but a part of her was. The way he held her while she cried offered a comfort she’d never known before. She felt safe in his arms. Things didn’t hurt as bad when his arms were wrapped around her.
Was Brandon Molitor the one they always sent in to rescue the damsels in distress?
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I don’t like it.”
“If you don’t know what I’m thinking, how could you possibly know if you like it or not?”
“I can see it in your eyes. It’s not good.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me, Brandon. I wish you’d stop acting like you do.” She got up from where she sat.
Stalking off into the distance, she heard him yell, but she didn’t stop. She wasn’t even sure if it was him that she was mad at. She was just mad, period. Actually, she was furious. She hated this. She hated what her life had become. It had only been two weeks and she found herself more than once wishing that Jason or his father had finished her off so she didn’t have to live a life looking over her shoulder.
“Damn it, Alena.” Brandon grabbed her arm and swung her around.
“Let go of me!”
She tried to fight him off, but he pushed her to the ground, his large body covering hers as her chest pressed into his.
He covered her mouth for the second time that day. “Damn it, be quiet!” he whispered.
It was then that she heard the roar of a boat’s engine. His eyes were fixed on something in the distance. Other than lying on top of her, he paid no attention to her at all.
She made an attempt to question him, but her words were reduced to a nearly silent mumble as he increased pressure down on her mouth.
Minutes passed before the sound of the engine finally faded away into the distance, and they were left with nothing but the sounds of the waves, gentle winds, and the seagulls from above.
His eyes darted around their perimeter. His hand remained over her mouth, his body still pressed firmly against hers.
A flood of emotions consumed her as she lay beneath him. Confusion and arousal were at the top of that list.
She wasn’t sure what had happened, who he’d seen, or what he was thinking. The only thing she knew for certain was what she was feeling. So when his eyes returned to hers and he removed his hand from her mouth, she acted on those feelings.
Lifting her head just enough, she pressed her lips against his. He didn’t blink at her kiss. His eyes stayed fixated on her as the heat from his lips caused a tingle in her mouth.
She’d never been the aggressor, not in any relationship, with any man. But Brandon was different. Everything about him was different.
She wanted to feel him.
She wanted to understand him, the way he understood her.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and slid her tongue inside his mouth. With the first moment of his touch, she knew she was done for.
She wanted him.
And in a strange way, a way that she couldn’t quite make sense of, she needed him.
Chapter Seven
Brandon’s body froze from Alena’s kiss.
He had to shut everything off. It was the only way he could survive the moment without wanting to rip her clothes off and devour her right then and there.
He shouldn’t be allowing her kiss. He shouldn’t be kissing her back. Damn if he could help himself, though.
The dark-haired beauty with curves to die for would be too sexy for most men to resist. But after spending days with her, Brandon was getting to know the woman behind the long locks and tormented soul.
She wasn’t just a complex woman.
She was a good woman.
A woman who had fire and passion hidden beneath all of that uncertainty.
A woman who he wanted to consume every inch of until he made her forget all of the horrors she’d experienced at the hands of the Tovar crime family.
Despite his efforts to steel his nerves and keep himself in check, his body was beginning to react. He could feel his cock hardening as it pressed against her thigh. There would be minutes, maybe only seconds, before he would lose all control and not be able to stop the path they were on, or himself.
With his free hand, he pushed himself up and pulled away from her kiss. Her lips were swollen. Her eyes were heavy lidded, clouded with a look that was pure and unadulterated arousal. Which made what he was about to do even worse.
“Alena…”
“What’s wrong?”
“We can’t… I can’t do this.”
The expression in her eyes felt like daggers to his soul. She wasn’t just hurt; she was embarrassed and humiliated. Tears filled her eyes and, with a blink, fell down the sides of her face.
“Alena, please don’t cry. It’s not you.”
He tried to explain, knowing full well that the “it’s not you, it’s me” excuse rarely made anyone feel better.
She pushed at him, wiggling to get free from under his body.
He didn’t fight her. He couldn’t. He knew he had to let her be.
Fuck! Could you be a bigger asshole, Molitor? he chided himself, angry for causing her more pain after everything she’d already been through.
After standing up and brushing the sand off of her clothes, she began to walk away in a hurried fashion. She didn’t turn back to look at him. And the truth of it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to. Seeing her tears had been hard enough.
Nothing should have happened this way. Carl hired him to protect her, not sleep with her. And he sure as hell didn’t bring him on board to fall for her.
He stopped for a moment, realizing the thought he’d just had.
It had been a long time since he’d had feelings for someone. Not since Natalie had anyone tugged at his heart the way Alena had.
Damn it, Molitor!
He looked off into the distance and watched her climb the steps to the small cottage just before slamming the door.
She was pissed, and rightfully so.
She had to have felt his body reacting to her. He hadn’t just allowed her to kiss him. He’d willingly kissed her back. And what did he do with her affections? He pushed her away like the asshole that everyone who’d ever met him claimed that he was.
Shit.
You’re an asshole, Molitor!
He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky. His job was to protect her. That’s what he was hired to do. That’s what he would do. But damn if some of his job description hadn’t just changed on him without warning.
He hurried through the sandy dunes of the island, making his way back to the cottage as quickly as he could. He had no idea how he would make things right with Alena, but he sure as hell planned on trying.
Minutes later, Brandon stepped inside the bedroom he’d held her in the night before. Alena was holding the phone to her ear and listening intently to someone who sounded like Carl on the other end.
He couldn’t hear all of what was being said, but it sounded like a list of the many reasons why her security detail couldn’t be changed.
She looked like she was ready to throw the phone across the room, or at him at the very least, when he leaned against the doorframe, making his intention to not leave the roo
m crystal clear.
“Alena, give me the phone.”
“No,” she snapped.
“Is that Brandon? Alena, put Brandon on the phone,” Carl instructed her.
“No! I don’t have to do whatever you two tell me to, you know. I am an adult. I can do whatever I want.”
“And just how in the fuck has that worked out for you before now?” Brandon bit back in reply.
She glared at him and ignored Carl’s request for a second time to put Brandon on the phone. “Just send a boat. I’m leaving!” She hung up the phone and threw it on the bed.
“Alena, you’re not going anywhere,” he said while picking up the phone and dialing.
“Yes I am. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Carl answered the phone. “Alena, listen—”
“It’s me,” Brandon interrupted him.
“Jesus, Molitor. What the fuck? Why is she so pissed off?”
“We had a little misunderstanding, that’s all.”
She let out a sarcastically bitter laugh. “A misunderstanding? Is that what you call it?”
Obviously overhearing her, Carl asked, “Dude, what the fuck happened?”
“Nothing. I’ll take care of it.”
“Molitor, I promised her father. Don’t make me a liar.”
“And you’ll keep that promise. I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t think so,” Alena said while pulling some of her clothes from the closet.
Brandon did his best not to roll his eyes at her dramatics, but he knew that she had every right to be pissed. “Look, Carl, I have to go. Don’t send a boat. Things are fine. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
He ended the call and set the phone down on the bedside table. Crossing his arms while she continued to throw clothes into her suitcase, he waited for her to look at him.
She didn’t say anything for several minutes. Folding and unfolding then refolding items several times, he could tell she was delaying the actual packing of her clothes. He would laugh at how cute it was if he didn’t know it would piss her off more.
The silence between them loomed for far too long. And while Brandon was capable of waiting days for a mission to go well, when it came to Alena, he had no intention of sitting in silence with her for the next several hours.
“Are you going to look at me?”
“I’d rather not.”
“How about talk then?”
“No thanks.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. His frustration wasn’t with her, but with himself. She had every right to be pissed at him.
“Well, how about you listen then? Could you do that?”
She shrugged, not committing to hearing him out either way.
“I’m an asshole.”
She looked up at him and bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m listening.”
He smirked. “Yeah, I thought that might get your attention.”
“So are you saying you’re not an asshole?”
“Oh no. I am. I am one monumental asshole. Trust me on that. Ask half the people who know me. They’ll all agree.”
“The number is probably higher than half.”
He laughed. “You’re probably right.”
“So you’re an asshole. Great. What’s your point?”
“My point is…hell, I don’t know.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Wow. Great talk.”
She got up and made her way to the door, but he stood in her way. “No, Alena. Don’t walk away.”
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Because I’m asking you not to. Because I never ask anyone for anything. And I’m asking you to please hear me out.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because…” He searched for pretty words, trying to find the right thing to say to make her happy.
“Because…why?” she asked again.
“I don’t know, Alena. I’m not good at this. I suck at people skills. Almost everyone who knows me does actually think I’m an asshole. I’m not easy to get along with. I say and do shitty things. I’m a fuck-up.”
“So if you’re such an asshole, then why do you care? Just let me leave.”
“I can’t.”
“Why, Brandon? Because I’m your job? Because you were hired to keep me safe?”
“Yes. But…”
“But what?”
The uncertainty in her eyes, the pleading in her words, it was all too much for him to resist. He still couldn’t find pretty words or anything clever to say. All he had to offer her was the truth.
“Because, Alena…because you matter. You matter…to me.”
Her eyes closed for a brief moment, and she bit her lower lip before returning her stare back to him. “Then why? Why did you push me away?”
“The truth?”
“Yes, Brandon. I want the truth.”
“Because you matter. Because when I’m with you I feel things I haven’t felt in over fifteen years.”
Her eyes widened and she whispered his name. “Brandon?”
“Shh…please, don’t say anything, Alena.” He cupped her face in his hands and felt a tremble. He didn’t know if it came from her or himself, but he knew that this time he wouldn’t be able to stop.
He wanted her.
He needed her.
He was falling for her, and nothing he could do was going to change that.
Chapter Eight
Alena trembled as Brandon pressed his lips against hers.
There was no hesitation this time. He wasn’t pulling away, insisting that he couldn’t go further. Instead he did the opposite. He pulled her body closer, wrapping those comforting arms around her, which made her not only feel safe but left her with a feeling of the entire world washing away.
She couldn’t help but whimper when his tongue slid down the column of her neck and laved long and delicate kisses on her nape. Her body was reacting to him. Liquid heat poured from her core, coating her panties as her arousal worked itself up into a fire.
Without warning, Brandon lifted her hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist and felt his hardened length pressing against her sex. Their lips stayed locked, kissing one another, searching and learning one another as their hot breaths intermingled in the erotic dance their mouths were moving to.
Only a moment later she felt him gently drop her down onto the bed. His determined hands lifted her shirt, tugging it up and over her breasts while her fingertips trailed along his chest.
Tilting her head up, she pressed her lips against his. There were no words that did justice to how she felt. She was falling and willing to give all of herself.
Brandon pulled her close, crushing his erection into her belly as he swept his tongue into her mouth. Never before had one man’s simple touch or kiss invoked such arousal in her.
She tugged at the hem of his shirt and slid her hands underneath the thin fabric. His hardened chest muscles and the contours of his arms were more than her restraint could handle.
His abdominal muscles contracted under her touch as her fingers explored every inch of him.
Sliding her hands around his body, she dug her fingernails into his back when she felt his cock press mercilessly against her body. “Brandon, please…” she whispered.
He stopped their kiss and dropped his forehead against hers. Breathless, he offered her a promise and a warning.
“Alena, I want you, too. But if you have any reservations about what we’re about to do, this is your chance. Because once we go there, there’s no turning back for me.”
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she slid her tongue back into his mouth, showing him the proof of her eagerness.
As quickly as she’d begun, he pulled away. And with his hands framing her face, his eyes locked on her, staring intently as he said, “Jesus, I could spend hours touching you, kissing you…fucking you.”
“Show me,” she pleaded.
He laid her on the bed, and
in seconds, his large body covered hers while their tongues continued to dance.
He pressed his cock against her, pressing and grinding into her body.
Her hands pulled at the hem of his shirt once again, frantic to remove the barrier between them so she could feel his warm skin against her aching breasts.
Together, they silently helped the other undress. Between long languishing kisses and intentional stares, the two of them didn’t utter a word.
Never fully confident in her body, always feeling somewhat on the chubby side, she couldn’t help but feel anything but from the way that Brandon was staring at her.
His large hands gently ran along her curves, trailing along the mounds of her breasts and working his way through the valleys and contours of her body.
His tenderness was something she’d never experienced before. In that moment, she wasn’t with the Brandon Molitor who was hired to protect her. He wasn’t the badass military veteran who was highly skilled in security and protection. In that moment, he was just Brandon. Just the man.
Her heart tugged a little at the feelings that were coming over her. She’d never known a man to look at her the way that he was. She’d never experienced a man touching her in such a delicate but possessive way.
Everything about him only made her want him more.
With his jeans around his ankles and wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs, he finally pulled them down, exposing to her his hard-on, and proof of his need for her.
His cock stood up, rigid and ready. A droplet of pre-cum sat atop its head, glistening in both invitation and promise as she licked her lips, unconsciously aware of how much she wanted to taste him.
He kicked his jeans off, pushing them and his underwear to the corner of the room as he crawled on the bed between her thighs.
Moving her legs wide apart, he leaned over and dropped his forehead down to hers before whispering, “You’re not just a job, Alena.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she squeezed them tightly closed. She hadn’t known until that very moment how badly she had needed to hear that.
The feel of his hardness pressing against her wetness overwhelmed her. She felt a sudden need to open her legs as far as she could, widening them, opening herself as much as humanly possible to accept every part of him, every single inch that he had to give.
Men In Uniform Anthology Page 36
