“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me a few months ago.” He started to lead her back to the bedroom. He sure as hell didn’t want her to think he was some kind of saint. “I was drunk all the time and I was bitter and angry.”
“After you lost your leg? And your wife left you? I can understand that. I might have been homicidal, Macon.”
She would have gone after Elise with her hammer very likely. He enjoyed her crazy streak. He’d grown up around women like his stepmother. Pretty, perfect, cold. It wasn’t until he’d actually gone into the Army that he met some real women. He’d thought he needed a female like Elise who wanted to be an officer’s wife. Her father had connections through his law firm. Her mother had been a model socialite. Macon’s stepmother had handpicked Elise.
If Ally had been his wife, he wouldn’t have woken up alone in a hospital room in Germany. Alone and aching. Waking up to the same dream every night of his friend lifting the gun…
He forced the image back. He knew it was coming—the moment when he had to deal with it, with Ronnie’s mom and sister. He knew he wouldn’t be able to move forward until he talked to them, but he needed some time with Ally first. Just a week.
Definitely not tonight. This wasn’t the time to think about Rowe. It was time to concentrate on Ally. He wanted Ally so badly he could already taste her, but he had to prep her first. He had to whip her up into a sweet froth. Careful handling. He’d always known she would require that.
He’d spent most of his life prepping for a career as a soldier. He’d never intended to leave the military. But if he hadn’t he would never have discovered this unexpected side of himself. He’d never have found out that he loved making something sweet. He adored the careful art of molding something with his hands.
He was going to enjoy using them to show Ally Jones how they could be enough for each other.
She opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out a long blue and green scarf.
“I’m going to cover your eyes. I want you to concentrate on one thing and one thing only. Me. My touch, my voice, what I do to you. Before I do that, I want you to take your clothes off. I want you to watch me while you do it. Watch my eyes, the way I breathe, the way this damn cock of mine will tighten. See how much you affect me.”
She stood there for a moment and then her eyes came up, watching him as her hands moved to the edge of her shirt. She slowly dragged it over her head, revealing creamy skin he wanted to touch. She was wearing a plain white bra that seemed more erotic than all the Victoria’s Secret specials Elise had ever worn. He didn’t have a lot of experience, but he didn’t need much to tell him Ally was special. She made him feel.
“Now the jeans.” He wanted it to last.
She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve waited weeks to see that chest, Miles. I’ll drop trou and everything if I get a glimpse of what’s hiding under there.”
Even her brat called to him. He tugged his shirt off, infinitely pleased that he’d started up a hardcore workout regime again. He hadn’t liked the fact that Adam and Jake had been so much stronger. It spurred him to work harder. He might not have a right leg, but he had a cut torso.
She stared, those blue eyes wide as she took him in. It was enough to make a man feel good.
“I believe you said something about dropping those jeans.” His confidence was way up just from her jaw dropping. He meant to give her the same because she was gorgeous. Inside and out.
Her hands went to the waistband of her pants. She undid the button and shoved the jeans down over her hips and to the floor.
“You know that’s not all I want. I adore your every curve, but I want to see you.”
He could see the way his tone worked on her. An authoritative but loving top would help her. She could work with him to bring them both great joy.
Her arms moved toward her back and in a single twist of her hand, the bra came off and her breasts sprang free. Gorgeous and round, with pretty pink and brown tipped nipples. Those breasts were breathtaking and his whole body responded. Every muscle tightened and his blood started to thrum in anticipation.
“I want more.”
One elegant brow arched over her blue eyes. “So do I.”
“It’s not pretty, baby.” But it was him. He’d come to accept it. He’d lost his leg. He’d given it for his country. At first it had seemed like nothing more than a random thing, but he’d come to believe it was a sacrifice and one willingly made if the people he loved were safe. For so long the Army had been a career and then a road that led to something new and different. He’d made his sacrifice, done his duty, and now he wanted peace and freedom and god, he wanted her.
“Says you.”
He shoved his jeans down, careful around his prosthetic. It had a vacuum seal he would have to break later, but he left it on now. She should see what she was getting. He walked because of an artificial leg with a mechanized knee. He wouldn’t be normal again, but he’d discovered normal was a lie. There was no such thing.
“Can I touch you?” Her hand was already up, but she didn’t make a move toward him.
He wanted to get rid of this hesitancy between them. He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his chest. “You can touch me anywhere you want.”
Her fingers brushed against his skin, a light caress that left him wanting more. He stood still, giving her a chance to explore. She seemed fascinated with the hair on his chest, petting him like he was some kind of exotic beast. She traced the lines and contours of his body, moving over his muscles and smoothing across his scars. He had plenty of them.
Her fingers trailed down to his abs, running over them to the waistband of his boxers. Her eyes were staring down at his prosthetic.
“Does it hurt?”
“It can’t hurt, baby.” It wasn’t there. He didn’t want to go into the fact that it ached from time to time and that he woke trying to move a limb that was no longer there. He would probably feel it for the rest of his life, but he was trying really hard to move on without it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to if she rejected him. Somehow, Ally Jones had become necessary. The leg was freaky. It could completely turn her off.
“You should never wear clothes at all, Miles. It’s not pretty? That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. You’re a freaking Greek god.”
Well, at least she was accepting. He might not believe it completely, but he would take it. There had been a moment for him when he’d worried she would see all the perfect bodies on display at the play party and realize she could have someone whole. He had to make sure she understood that no one would take her pleasure and her happiness as seriously as he did.
He held up the scarf. “I’m going to blindfold you. I want you to block out everything but the sound of my voice and the touch of my hands. Can you do that?”
“I can try, but you should know that I’m not very sexual. I don’t do that screaming thing other women do. Maybe it’s psychological, maybe there’s something physically wrong with me. I don’t know, but I don’t want you to expect too much.”
That sounded like a challenge. He wasn’t a man to turn one down.
* * * *
The minute he guided the silk around her eyes, her perspective changed. The world didn’t go completely dark. There was still a bit of light, but it was inconsequential. She was dependent on him. That was the point of this exercise. She was utterly dependent on him and all she was wearing was a pair of white cotton undies.
Without the advantage of sight, her focus shifted. She was forced to acknowledge the way cool air felt against her skin, how her nipples tightened and how warm she’d become low in her pelvis.
“Tell me about your foster mother.” Big hands cupped her shoulders, spreading heat where they touched. He moved them very slowly down her arms.
“I thought I was supposed to be concentrating on you.”
“Yes, on following my instructions. You’ve evaded all my questions for a week.”
She wanted to throw that back in his face. He’d evaded her for almost a year. Of course in order to do that she would have to tell him who she was and she’d almost decided that he never needed to know. Some things were better left alone. “I loved her. She didn’t always know how to handle me though. She had a son. He got me.”
His hands stopped moving and he brushed her hair off her back, exposing her neck. “Did you love him?”
“Oh yes.” That was an easy question to answer, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “He became my brother. We survived high school together.”
“What happened to your family, Allyson?” The words rumbled along her nape, making her shiver even as his fingertips brushed the sides of her torso down to her hips. He was behind her, touching her gently, but there was no doubt she wasn’t alone. “I’m assuming it was bad otherwise you wouldn’t have been living in your car.”
She stiffened, all the intimacy fleeing because she either had to lie to him or obscure the truth so that he wouldn’t question her. She was trusting him with her body, her heart, but holding back the truth might be the only way to keep them together. “My brother died in an accident a year ago and I recently lost my mother to cancer. There wasn’t much money and what was left went to paying hospital bills. So I packed up and came to Texas to find something new.”