Tell it to the Marine(17)

“What are you thinking about?” He curled a strand of blonde around his finger.

“That you need more room or a bigger place.” She bit down lightly on his shoulder and he arched an eyebrow.

“What for?”

“Honey, we couldn’t even fit my shoes in this bedroom….”

He laughed and dragged her beneath him, pausing long enough to roll on a condom before thrusting home in one slow roll of his hips. “You don’t need to wear shoes here…or anything else for that matter….”





It was nearly lunchtime when he spotted her sneaking out of the bedroom, dressed only in his shirt, her long bare legs teasing him. They couldn’t have slept for more than hour. He stretched, his body stirring at the sight of her bottom peeking behind the tail of his shirt. They’d retreated to the kitchen for coffee and found a way to christen his kitchen counter, the tiny round table he used for work, and his sofa, before making it back to the bedroom.

He wanted to dine on her sweet little sex, again. And again. Maybe he’d offer to cook her eggs and bacon in trade. Her conversation drifted from the front room, derailing the lascivious train of thought.

“Yes, go ahead and work out the details, but tell them I want them to increase the offer by twenty percent, and I want to donate forty percent of the total to Mike’s Place in Allen, Texas.”

He blinked.

“Yes, I said forty percent. No, I’d like to film all my parts in one week. I have five scenes, surely they can manage that.”

His heart sank. One night was not enough. Nowhere near enough. He hoped she’d stick around a little longer.

“Well, it will have to be a week. I’m not going to hang out on set for a month just to film a scene every four or five days. So if they want to film it that way, make sure you include travel expenses. I’m going to be based out of Dallas for the foreseeable future, so it’s only a two-hour flight…”

And just like that he blew out a long breath.

“…you know what, Marnie? There’s a hell of a lot more to life than just making movies. I’m all about taking chances and seeing where that can go. My career. My life. My choice.”

Foreseeable future.

Hell yeah, he could work with that. He levered off the bed, stalked toward the living room and the luscious goddess he planned to lay out on the table.

Time for breakfast.