Filling up the Virgin(241)

I took Rick's hands and stood up, then led him to the bedroom.

“What about dinner?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

“It can wait,” I said. I pulled him onto the bed and pushed him over onto his back. I pulled down my panties, pulled up my skirt, and straddled him, leaning down over him to kiss his sweet lips. He reached up and massaged my breasts, then slid his hands lower and grabbed my hips. He pulled me against him and started grinding up against me before I even had his pants off. I could feel him through his pants, and I ached in that moment to have him inside of me.

I pulled his pants down and lowered myself onto him. He moaned in pleasure and thrust up into me, holding my hips as I moved in time with his motions. I ached for this man, needed him, craved him. And now I knew he would really be mine.

In all of the excitement, it didn't take long for Rick's eager thrusting to bring him to climax. I coaxed him onward, stroking his face and whispering sweet nothings to him. I let him fill me, giving me what I craved, what I needed. Then I collapsed atop him and planted little kisses all over his face and lips.

When it was done, we laid there in bed, holding each other. I knew there were a lot of details to work out. I'd have to talk to Rick about whether he wanted to move into my place, or if we'd be getting someplace new together. I could offer him a full-time job at the bar. Not that he needed the money, but it would give him something to do now that he wouldn't be in the service any longer. And we had to make plans for the baby, getting ready to be a family.

But all of that could wait for another day. For tonight, I laid there, holding my man in my arms, at peace with the world. And I couldn't have asked for anything more.





PREGNANT BY THE SEAL



I met Jack at an airport in Northern Syria, the day before our expedition was due to head out. It was a sweltering day, high 90's, and the tiny airport didn't have any air conditioning. I stood there fanning myself with a folded map of the surrounding area, wishing we had scheduled this trip during the winter months instead of during one of the hottest weeks of the year. Timing was important, however. The Islamic State militants had been causing all kinds of trouble throughout the region for months now, and this was one of the only times things had settled down for it to be safe for us to get into the country. Though there was still high risk of terrorist attacks in the area, which is why Jack was here.

He got off the plane, a small private jet provided by our benefactor, Tremaine Industries, and headed straight towards me with a purposeful stride. He had a lot of swagger for a white boy, stalking across the tarmac with his jacket slung over his shoulder, a fine pair of Costa Del Mar shades covering his eyes. He had dark hair and a square jaw covered with a few days' stubble, and he moved like someone who knew how to handle himself, scanning the area as he walked for any possible threats. His resume listed him as a formal Navy SEAL, so I figured he knew his business. Why he was working private security now, I didn't know, but I was glad to have him along.

“Ms. Harris?” he asked, offering me his hand. “Jack Carmichael.”

“My pleasure, Jack,” I said, giving his hand a quick shake. “And it's Camille. We're gonna be working together, might as well be on a first name basis.”

“Works for me,” he said. He had a roguish smile, almost cocky. Though I liked a little confidence in a man. “I assume you have a car waiting?”

“Right this way.” I led him through the airport to where our rental car, also courtesy of Tremaine Industries, waited in the parking lot. There were only half a dozen other vehicles there. We'd chosen an isolated airstrip to reduce the chances of running into any trouble. Not that our job here was all that dangerous. But terrorists had blown up a few temples and other historic sites over the past few months, all as part of their religious war. They considered statues and graven images to be idolatry, and they hated with a passion anything that went against their extreme view of Islam. My group had been sent here to retrieve as many historic and religious artifacts as we could, in order to save them from destruction and relocate them to museums in less disputed territories.

I walked over to the driver's side door and opened it, but Jack thrust himself in front of me and blocked the door. “I should drive,” he said. “Just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. He seemed awfully paranoid for a white boy, but I guessed that he was right. “Fine,” I said, circling around to the passenger side of the car. It was a large, all-terrain SUV, ideal for our job here since we'd be venturing off the beaten path to get to some of the excavation sites. I was just glad that the car we'd been given was roomy enough. I was a big girl, after all, and it was no fun squeezing into a tiny compact car in a hot, sweaty day.