Jonesin' For Action(12)

She leaned over and gave him a sweet kiss. “My mother says my first word was no. I haven’t lost my knack for using it since.” With a quick wiggle of her butt, she added, “There’s something wickedly arousing about still feeling your hands on me even when you’re not touching me anymore.” She sighed and picked up her coffee. “It’s possible you’ve spoiled me for other men.”

He grinned. “In that case, maybe I’d better stick around for a while longer to keep you happy. It’s the least I can do.” He tried to make the statement casual, sipped at his own coffee to cover his nervousness. It was a bold offer to throw out there after only one night. She wasn’t the one on vacation, either. She had work, probably that very night, and for all he knew, she was silently counting the minutes for him to haul his sorry ass out of her apartment and out of her life. By her own admission, however, she wouldn’t have any trouble answering in the negative.

Her fingers curled around his neck, so he turned to look at her. Her answer was clear to see in her eyes. He still took a quiet breath of relief when she said, “You know I don’t usually pick guys up at the bar. Maybe it was because I had seen you earlier in the day and had admired you already, but it was one of those you-had-me-at-hello moments.”

His body tightened at the confession. Amazingly, he had a strong urge to pick her up again and carry her back to bed. “Do you work today?” he asked instead.

“My shift starts at four. When do you to take off?”

“I have a week of leave. I was sharing a house with my buddies. Now that they’re gone, I was going to get my stuff and find a hotel for the rest of my vacation.”

She rubbed the back of his neck with soft strokes. “There are plenty of nice places to stay around here, although none of them comes with me.” She licked her lips in feminine invitation.

His cock stirred, and tempting as it was to make her wet again and find heaven within her sweet pussy, he knew he had to cool it. He had ridden her hard this morning, and he didn’t want her soreness to go from titillating to irritating through his lack of control. “I think you’ve become an essential amenity to any place I bunk down in.”

Her lips parted in a wide smile before she gave him another sweet kiss. When she would have pulled away, he clasped her by her shoulders and kept her in place, deepening the kiss. His tongue chased hers until they both had to come up for air. “God, you make me hard faster than any woman I’ve ever known.” Okay, as true as the statement was, what had happened to playing it cool? He let her go and hopped off his stool. He bit back a groan when pain shot up from his stump.

“Are you all right?” She frowned at him in concern.

Obviously, he hadn’t hidden his discomfort well enough. “I’m fine. Really,” he added when she looked skeptical. “Sometimes I forget my body isn’t in the same shape it used to be.” He sighed and looked away. “It’s one of the toughest parts of accepting the loss of my leg. I always took pride in being physically tough. I could handle anything any other SEAL could, and because I was secure in my abilities, it was easy being the healer in the group. I liked taking care of my guys.”

He paused, shrugged. It was weird how easy it was to talk to Marissa when he’d clammed up with everyone else. It was nice to have the outlet even though he had insisted to everyone that he was fine, that he didn’t need to “talk” out his feelings about his disability. “I know it’s kind of stupid, but I feel like I lost more than my leg. Part of my manhood, maybe.” And now, he had officially entered the land of self-pity. Awesome. All the girls loved going there with a guy.

Surprisingly, Marissa didn’t hop down and hug him with murmurs of platitudes about how he was still a hero in her eyes. Instead, she snorted with derision and scooped up the last of her eggs. “I have a sore ass and pussy that testifies to how totally wrong you are about that.” When he looked at her, stricken again with concern for how rough he had been, she waved her fork at him. “In a totally I-feel-well-fucked sort of way. Go wash up. We can get your stuff, take a walk along the beach, grab some lunch at my favorite outdoor café. Then you can come to the bar with me and be my inspiration.”

Her casual dismissal of his pity party relaxed him. “Sounds like a plan. Inspiration for what?”

“It’s Sunday night. Will and I do flair bartending to draw people into the bar.”

“Seriously?”

“I have hidden talents. Maybe I’ll show you some of the more private ones later.” She winked at him.