Jagger's Moves(3)

Moron, Jagger thought with an inner snort of contempt. If he had this woman in his life, on his arm, he'd never stop looking out for her or the possible dangers to his female.

"You gonna man up or should I start dying your camos a pretty pink?"

"Bastard," Jagger snarled back at his friend good naturally. "She'll be in my bed before the night's out."

"So sure of yourself?"

"There's nothing women love more than honoring a military man."

"Care to wager on that?"

"Nope." Jagger shook his head. "My mama taught me to never bet on women, horses, or honest politicians."

"Keep your money then, Jagger. I'd rather have the lady anyway."

"In your dreams, brother man."

"You'd know nothing about my dreams."

The woman stopped a few feet away from him, a harassed look crossing her pretty face. The pompous man at her side whispered fast and low in her ear, but she was only paying him half her attention.

In English, she replied flatly, "Really, Herr Hitzig, I assure you, I'll be fine. As much as I enjoyed our conversation on the plane, I really need to go."

She tugged on her arm, but the German refused to budge. The thick mustache above his lip twitching as he responded in rapid German while a red flush of anger or desire mottled his face.

"Ma'am?" Jagger interrupted their little gabfest when he noticed the man's hand tightening around her silky upper arm.

"Tyler?" A soft husky feminine voice disrupted his mental smack down of her unworthy suitor. "Tyler Jaggerstein?"

His head jerked up at the sound of his name on such luscious lips and all the moisture evaporated in his mouth. The goddess was talking to him? "Um...yeah? I mean…yes ma'am."

Oh, and wasn't he brilliant. Couldn't tell the Navy spent over a million dollars educating and training him. Sure, the majority of it was learning to blow shit up, shoot people, jump out of planes and other fun things, but they did make his BUD/S class learn the proper etiquette in case of formal events.

The muffled snort coming from slightly behind him had a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. And he thanked his higher power for the desert tan he'd received as a side bennie from their last mission.

"Ty!" A smile worthy of poems, songs, and sonnet's curved her plush glossy lips even as she moved to untangle herself from her persistent suitor. In a move almost to fast for him to follow, the goddess hip checked the German dude, then in a move worthy of her title, sank her four inch heel into the older man's soft leather shoe.

The next thing Jagger knew, he had a goddess dashing into his arms and pressing her soft moist lips to his.

Softly she whispered against his mouth, "I'm so glad it's you. Missed you like crazy."

Then all thoughts of words, explanations, the German, even Trip disappeared as his mouth opened beneath the pressure of her tongue, and Jagger lost himself in the taste of goddess.





Chapter Two

Alexa Westlake knew she was taking advantage of Tyler, but hello, a chance to make a fantasy come true. What woman in her right hetero mind would turn away from the chance to live out a teenage fantasy? Shocked to see the man of her dreams, literally, looking hotter than any mortal should, changed her plans in an instant. Screw the typical tourist plans she'd made. Time with Tyler put any sunset ocean dinner cruise to shame.

The loose kaki cargo shorts, baggy white cotton T-shirt and beat up tennis shoes shouldn’t have her hands clenching to get him naked, but Lexa wanted in nothing but his sun kissed skin.

To have some quality time in bed with the man of her dreams, to hopefully finally put the happily ever after fantasies out of her mind meant she could get on with the rest of her life. She desperately needed to get on with her life and find a real guy to settle down with. A man who didn't think blowing things up or jumping out of airplanes into war zones was a good time.

Thanks to fate, the military, or even karma, Lexa finally had the chance to exorcise this man out of her system.

Reality shamed even her dirtiest dreams. Tyler tasted like a man. No breath mints, no lingering taste of martinis or lip-gloss to complete with his natural taste. Breathing through her nose, Lexa pressed deeper into his embrace, hoping he would get the unspoken message. And God Bless soldiers everywhere because her man followed orders perfectly as his strong arms slid around her waist to pull her tightly against his bulging arousal.

Shit, the pressure stroked her swollen clit perfectly. A few more hard rubs and she'd leave more than an impression on Tyler. His pants would hold a wet spot from her juices. Instead of stumbling back in shame or embarrassment, Lexa moved closer. Damn, the man was built and knew how to use every inch to bring her pleasure.