Once Her Man, Always Her Man(11)

Rebecca blew a breath up at the hair tumbling in her eyes. She turned back toward the truck and his heart squeezed. He’d blown it. Somewhere in that muddied, dumbass explanation he’d shot his chance to hell. But instead of getting in the truck, she tossed her purse inside and pivoted to race across the six feet separating them.

He braced, catching her as she slammed into him. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her arms around his neck and then she kissed him. He devoured her mouth, meeting her eager tongue with his own. She was soft and curvy beneath the dress. His hands closed over her bottom, kneading it through the material. She’d always been soft.

But her girlish figure was beautifully rounded now. In the hind part of his brain, he recognized she’d put on weight, but it filled out all the right parts of her body. The woman in his arms was like a live grenade and his body was the clip. Her mouth moved to his jaw and when her teeth bit down on his throat, he laughed. Her greedy little mouth always left hickeys.

God, I hope she leaves one right now.

“Make love to me, Luke.” The words lodged next to his heart, shoving away the last barricade to the past.

“It’s a thirty minute drive to the house,” he groaned. His cock was so hard, he regretted the fit of his dress pants. “But I think we can make it in fifteen.”

“No.” She leaned back, trusting her weight to his hands, her fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He needed a haircut.

And a shave.

And a shower.

And some roses.

Hell, he needed a lot of roses.

Wait, did she just say no?

“Babe?” The word came out on a harsh exhale.

“No. No driving, no house, no waiting. Right now. Right there.” She jerked her thumb toward the truck. “You have a blanket in the back seat.”

His body revved at the thought. “But sweetheart, it’s cold.”

“So, you don’t think you can warm me up, Marine?” Her lips twitched into a saucy smile and rusty laughter wheezed out of him. Yeah, he could warm her up. He strode toward the truck, every step bumping her hips with his, teasing the hell out of him. He would die if he didn’t get her clothes off.

She started to slide down and he squeezed her ass, pressing her against him. His cock swelled further. “Uh uh. No moving, missy. I got this.”

Her mouth closed on his earlobe and pleasure zinged through him. He one armed open the back door, grabbed his go pack and tossed the whole lot into the bed of the truck. Two rolled blankets followed.

“You came prepared.” Silky amusement colored the voice whispering in his ear and Luke shoved the door shut and carried her around to the back. One click and the gate opened. A hard look around the area revealed they were very much alone and no cameras pointed at the truck. Satisfied, he hoisted her up and followed, barely letting her slide away as she scooched to grab the blankets.

They tripped over each other, laughing as they spread the blankets out. Her fingers went back to the buttons on his shirt and he searched for whatever the hell held her dress together. “Strip, Marine.” The amused arousal thickened her voice.

“Yes ma’am.”

She inched back, peeling out of her dress and his tongue had to be hanging out as the dress vanished, leaving only creamy pale skin, full breasts and hard nipples peeking over the top of two scraps of lace she’d tied together to make a bra. Her pantyhose came next and joined his shirt, belt and pants. His shoes and socks were an afterthought, but he could only stare at the long length of her tanned legs and the scraps of pale skin around her barely-there panties.

“You are so damn beautiful.” And she was. He had to slow down before he embarrassed himself and came inside his shorts.

“Stop talking, Marine. The action’s right here.” The teasing quirk to the corner of her mouth, the spark in her eyes—this was his Rebecca. All fiery passion, spitfire and love.

So much damn love.

“Are you sure? I know I made a mess of that apology and you have every right to….”

She surged up from the blanket, meeting him breast to chest, her fingers covering his mouth. “Shh…it’s always been you. Always. I never wanted anyone else. I thought I got past it, I was over it and I was moving on. But every guy who ever asked me out, I measured against you and they all came up short. I. Love. You.” She punctuated the last three words with a kiss, her cool fingers stroking over his chest.

He knew the moment she found the scars. A burn from a fight in Kandahar. A cluster of three puckered scars from bullets in Kabul. A thick slash from shrapnel in a city he couldn’t remember. Her gaze shifted down and her lips trailed down his jaw to his chest. She stroked each scar gently, before laving her tongue over them. Each touch of her lips added balm to the deeper scars, the ones stretching into his soul.