The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)(34)

     



 

Bear kissed across her stomach again, reaching for her shorts. The  button was already open from earlier, so she lifted, signaling her  consent. He glided the fabric over her bottom and down her legs with  ease. Kenna lay looking up at him in nothing but her bra and underwear,  taking in the awe on his face and the beautiful glow of moonlight across  his muscular body.

"Your turn," she said. "Bottoms off. Now."

One corner of his mouth lifted in smug approval. "Yes, ma'am." Standing, he made quick work of his shorts.

Once they were off, she took in the sight before her. He was bared to  her. Completely. The magnificence of his body, hot and ready for her.  The undeniable proof of how badly he desired her jutted thick and  waiting between his legs. The satisfaction that surged through her was  euphoric. He wanted her. There was no denying that. She licked her lips  and started to sit up, reaching for him. Wanting to taste him.

"Not this time," he said, stopping her.

When she tilted her head in question, he said, "Slow and steady, remember?"

Lowering herself onto her back, she spread her legs and ran a hand down  her front, slipping her fingers inside her panties. She let out a small  whimper. Even in the dim moonlight, she saw him eyes ignite.

"Vixen," he said. "I'm trying to do this right."

"You always do me right," she said. "Always."

A deep, satisfied rumble erupted from him, as he looked down on her, all  male, corded with muscle and want. It was the perfect vision. One she'd  keep with her after tonight ended.

"You going to stand up there all night," she said. "Or are you going to  do something with me? I mean, I'm enjoying the view, but I think I'd  enjoy the feel of you more."

Another lift of his lips before he lowered himself, first to his knees,  then to his hands as he crept up her body. An arm went behind her to  unsnap her bra, then it went to her underwear. Both were off in seconds.

"Finally," she said. "I didn't think you were ever going to-"

Bryan braced his arms next to her shoulders and cradled her cheeks in  his hand. He stared at her with an expression she couldn't decipher. It  was a beautiful mixture of confusion, amazement, and … love. It looked  like love. The way he used to look at her.

"Bryan."

"You're everything," he said. "Everything so perfect. Everything I don't deserve."

"Don't say that," she said, sliding a long piece of hair behind his ear. "Of course you do."

He shifted his hips to position himself at her opening. "I don't. But tonight you make me feel like I do."

She braced for it. That initial exhilaration of him filling her. The  inescapable sensation of pure bliss. Slowly, he pressed forward, gliding  himself to join with her. Kenna took in every blessed second, every  inch, savoring the feel of him. All of him. As soon as he was in, he  paused and looked down at her.

And that was the moment she knew. She wouldn't be able to leave this  island without him. He was hers. And she was his. She couldn't go back  to her life in Chesterville, knowing what they had. She couldn't go  through each day not being able to reach out and touch him. She'd never  be the same again.

Kenna loved Bryan so much it hurt. She couldn't endure another decade  without him. She wouldn't survive. Tears started to well up, but she  forced them aside. She didn't want to ruin this moment.

"You okay?" he said, tracing a finger across her temple.

"I'd be better if you started moving," she said, swallowing her emotion. "Please."

With the sound of the ocean in front of them and the moon looking down  overhead, Bryan began to move, giving her what she needed in that  moment. All of him.





Chapter Seventeen


Fuck it was hot. The sun, the sand, everything radiated with a putrid,  humid air that nearly suffocated him. They were out on another scouting  mission. Another day riding in a scorching metal box the Army called a  Humvee, looking for the enemy. Though, who the enemy was had become  harder to tell since they hid among the people of Baghdad. Hiding so  well that there had been incidents at least once a day without any clue  of when and where before it happened.

They were traveling in a group of three today-Tyke's vehicle operating  as the lead, with SFC Cole's and SGT Pearson's vehicles following.

The butt of Tyke's rifle rested against his shoulder, the barrel pointed  out the window as he peered through the scope at the vast landscape  ahead of them. Nothing but wasteland, more wasteland, and a bunch of  goats and mountains that led them to the next town in this shit-hole  country. The terrain was rough, the Humvee suspension doing nothing to  dull the constant bouncing from large rocks and debris scattered along  the dirt road. Tyke sat shotgun beside PFC Bradley Hall, a  twenty-two-year-old redhead on his first deployment.         

     



 

One of Tyke's buddies, SGT Scott Warner, was singing in the back seat, a  regular occurrence over the past few weeks. The kid had been struggling  with homesickness, and since this was his third tour in two years, Tyke  didn't mind. Even if Warner had the singing voice of his tone-deaf  grandmother. Today's choice was the cult classic, "I Will Survive."

"Give it a rest," SPC Heath McIntyre groaned from the seat behind Tyke.  "Either that or pick a new damn song. I'm so fucking sick of that one."

Warner stopped long enough to address McIntyre. "Don't tell me you don't  like Diana Ross. 'Cause if that's the case, I'm gonna get Tyke to throw  your ass out right now." And he started back up, but louder and even  more off-key this time.

PFC Hall swiped a camo-sleeved arm over his clammy forehead, keeping his  other hand on the wheel. Without taking his eyes off the road, he said,  "Diana Ross doesn't sing that. The Supremes do."

"The Supremes?" Tyke laughed. "What the hell are you smoking? The  Supremes were out in the '60s, man. That song was a hit in the late  '70s."

Hall shot a quick look in Tyke's direction. "Diana Ross was in The Supremes, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. So?" Tyke focused out the window toward the short cement  buildings in the underdeveloped town about a mile ahead of them. "It's  still not her."

"You mean to tell me all this time I've been thinking it's her, and it's not?" Warner sounded like Tyke just kicked his puppy.

Tyke swiveled to glance at Warner in the seat behind Hall. "Aww, did I just crush your dreams, Scottie?"

"Yeah. Kinda," he said, throwing a dejected look out the side window. "Who the hell is it then?"

"Hell if I know," Tyke said.

"Then how do you know it isn't Diana Ross?" The sound of clicking and  snapping went off as McIntyre tinkered with his rifle in the back seat.

Tyke's chest bounced on a quick snort. " 'Cause I'm a savant with shit  like that." He wasn't. And he didn't really care who sang the song, he  just liked ragging on the guys.

"I'm just sayin'," McIntyre went on. "If you don't know who it is. How  do you know it definitely isn't Diana Ross? Wasn't she, like, huge in  the '70s or something?"

Warner was quiet in the back seat. Too quiet. When Tyke turned to look  at him, the kid shrugged. "What? I have no clue what happened in the  '70s. Unlike you old fuckers." He sat up straighter and grinned. "I'm a  '90s baby."

The car erupted in laughter as McIntyre smacked Warner in the back of the head with a loud whap.

"Hey, man!" Warner said, dodging another swat from McIntyre.

"We're not that much older than you, dickhead."

"How do you know the song then?" Hall asked with a brief glance in the rearview mirror.

Warner shrugged again. "Doesn't everybody know it?"

The Humvee was silent as the men slid quick looks at one another. And then all four men broke into the next line of the song.

Laughter bubbled up inside Tyke like it hadn't done since he'd been  deployed. His shoulders bobbed, and his cheeks hurt from stretching them  so wide. Goddamn, he loved this crew. A bunch of pranksters but also  good guys. He trusted them with his life.

The laughter quieted, but Warner continued to hum to himself.

"I expect a new song tomorr-" McIntyre started.

The Humvee rode over a bump, causing the front driver's side corner to  rise into the air before an ear-piercing explosion and a bright flash of  light and fire. The wheels on the driver's side of the vehicle blasted  off the ground, flipping it onto its side, then sending the Humvee  sailing onto its roof with a crunch. Tyke tumbled, his right shoulder  slamming into the front passenger door. The Humvee continued its  roundabout motion until it landed back on its wheels, the shift in force  making Tyke wobble violently from his left to his right before gaining  his equilibrium.

His ass end came up over his head, his legs dangling awkwardly around  his shoulders. Funny, since that was similar to the move Kenna wanted  him to try in that stupid yoga class she'd forced him to attend back  home. Couldn't do it then, but hell if he could do it now.