21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (14 page)

“So I helped?”

“Yes, you did.”

She grinned, pleased with herself.

“You’re not calling him about a Mrs. Robinson role.”

She laughed.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” She leaned across to brush a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want to play Mrs. Robinson.”

“No?” The word echoed on a deep note, low in his throat. She imagined closing the scant inches between their mouths and testing the strength in the firm line of his lips.

“No. I like my man to be confident enough to take on the problems of others, charming enough to admit he liked my films long before he ever met me, and ready to rip out the arms of a man they’ve never met because he might have pawed me.”

“I might know someone like that.”

“Yeah?”

He answered with a slow brush of his lips on hers. Gentle, almost fleeting, until her lips parted and his tongue sought access to hers. She cupped his cheek, and the kiss ended nearly as softly as it began. Her stomach fluttered and she opened her eyes, barely even aware that she’d closed them.

“The night’s not over yet, James.” Definitely time to make some changes, to embrace new challenges and new opportunities, starting with the gorgeous man sitting next to her.

“No?”

She shook her head slowly.

He brushed his fingers over the curve of her jaw. “I live in an apartment at Mike’s Place. It’s about fifteen minutes from here.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“Maybe twenty if you add the time from car to apartment.”

“So twenty minutes?”

“I can make it ten.”

“Take your time, we have all night.”

The last thing he’d expected to do when he headed out for dinner was bring his date home, much less invite Lauren Kincaid home. One on level, his brain still tried to wrap around the concept that the actress sat in the passenger seat, hand firmly in his. On another level, he was far more interested in the woman who sat on the curb in her sexy dress and talked to a Marine who desperately needed a friend as easily as she’d charmed James over wine and bad dancing.

The fifteen-minute route through the quiet streets of Plano to the Mike’s Place complex in Allen took forever. He considered twice suggesting that they go back for her car, a reasonable alternative to being trapped with his transportation.
But what if she wants her car? What if she decides this is a bad idea?

Suck it up, Marine
.

The gate scanned the identification box attached behind his rearview mirror and swung open smoothly. He obeyed the twenty-mile-an-hour warning signs, vividly aware that a game of touch football at nearly three in the morning was not that unheard of.

“You know, it occurs to me we’re breaking the rules.” His voice remained remarkably steady considering the triple-time cadence of his heart beat.

“Oh? Which rules are those?” The lazy Texan drawl, barely discernible in her dulcet tones drifted out to tease him like honeysuckle on a hot summer night.

“Madame Eve’s rules.”

“She has rules?”

He slid the SUV into its parking spot and cocked an eyebrow at his date. “Yes. Public meetings, fancy hotels, the safety of not being isolated with a stranger…didn’t you read the FAQ?”

Her gaze slid to the right. “Small confession time?”

He braced himself. “Go ahead.”

“My agent made all the arrangements. I didn’t even know there was a site or a FAQ to read.”

He laughed. “I see.”

“Sorry.” She winced apologetically. “If you want to dump me on the side of the road, I understand.”

“Oh, I will get over it. But I feel it’s important that you understand you have options. I can take you back to your car or take you home. We can go inside, have coffee and talk. Nothing has to happen that you don’t want to happen.”

Lauren mirrored his pose, unclipping her seat belt to sit sideways. “Are you saying you don’t want to have sex with me?”

Good Lord, he enjoyed the woman’s directness. “No, ma’am, I’m saying you have options, not that I’m stupid.”

Her wide grin cracked through his good intentions. If she got out of the car and walked up the stairs to his place, all bets were off. But he could handle being a gentleman.

For five more minutes.

“Would you like me to be clear?”

“Crystal.”

“In the interest of total clarity, I’m going to walk up those stairs, go into your apartment, take off this dress, and ask you to make hot, wet, passionate love to me. If that’s all right with you?”

Yep. He adored the little details, like brutal honesty.

He shut the engine off, killed the lights and exited the car to jog around to help her out before she could change her mind. Hand in hand, they dashed up the steps. Her smothered giggles were damn infectious. At the door, he managed to get the key in the lock and open it before remembering he’d left his jacket tossed over the back of the simple dining room chair and a stack of files that he planned to read when he got back.

“One minute?” He grinned and slipped inside to clean up. It took less than thirty seconds to hang the jacket in the coat closet and set the files on the top shelf out of sight.

She laughed when he opened the door fully to invite her in. Her gaze skimmed the room with its sparse furnishings, brown leather sofa, coffee table and lamp, but wasted little time in dropping her purse on the entry table next to his keys and kicking off her heels. Two bookshelves framed the fifty-six inch flat screen and her perusal hesitated.

James kicked himself.

She’d spotted the DVD collection.

Her smile grew wider and her eyes actually teared up a little.

“Hey.” Concern overrode the mild embarrassment and he cupped her cheek with his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“You were totally serious about liking my movies.”

“I couldn’t stand most of your movies. I just liked you.”

She swallowed. “Wow.”

“Truth be told, I don’t know that I care about those anymore. The real you is a hell of a lot more interesting than the woman on the screen.” He would have said more, but she rose up on her tiptoes and then her mouth was on his. James sealed the kiss, lifting her up and taking his time, tongue delving against her teeth to stroke hers.

He tasted the sweet flavors of coffee and cheesecake and thrust his tongue deeper, trying to capture the decadence of female. Slender fingers dug into his shoulders. Her nose rubbed his, tendrils of her hair teasing his face.

Her breasts rubbed against his shirtfront and as much as he loved the champagne gown, it had to go. Smoothing his hands over the silk, he roamed the smooth swell of her bottom, shaping it until his hands cupped her firmly and lifted her, dragging her sensuous weight up his body. Walking her back to the bedroom, he drew her lower lip between his teeth, nibbling before drifting kisses along her chin to her ear.

“If this is a dream, don’t wake me.” He tugged her earlobe with a playful nip and entered the sparse space he called a bedroom. The only concession to his exodus from active duty was the king size bed that accommodated his six foot four frame and let him sprawl. A nightstand held his clock and a lamp for bedtime reading, but he hadn’t even bothered with pictures on the wall, or a television.

Not that he planned to watch anything tonight. Next to the bed, he set her down, careful not to just shred the dress. Impatience pushed through him and with only the light from the front room slanting across the bed, he rested his forehead against hers.

“Last chance.” He wanted to strangle the words. But it never hurt to be sure.

“Okay.” She stepped back, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe we should put the coffee pot on….”

Stomach plummeting, he nodded slowly. He’d asked. It was why he asked. It would be too easy to get swept up in the emotion of the moment.

“I’ll go get that set up.” He turned, allowing enough time to control the disappointment in his expression.

“James.” Her voice, coupled with a swooshing sound, halted him. Glancing over his shoulder, his throat locked. The champagne dress pooled at her feet. His gaze rolled over the long, tanned legs, the tapered waist and thin scrap of black and white tuxedo-colored thong, and higher still to the curve of her perfect breasts, small mounds of curvy flesh crowned by pink nipples.

Without the window dressing, she seemed so much leaner, so much more fragile, a goddess carved of delicate coral.

“I thought….” His brain struggled to reconcile her request with the long-legged siren crawling onto his bed to sit on her knees, her delicate eyebrows arched and a mysterious smile on her lips. She crooked a beckoning finger.

“I said you should put the coffee pot on for later…I have a feeling we’re not going to get much sleep tonight.”

Somewhere the neurons in his brain fired and he toed off his boots, unbuttoned his shirt and stripped the dress shirt and jacket, hanging both on the hook he’d installed next to the closet. He shed the rest of his clothes, never looking away from her. He folded the slacks in half and dropped them over the edge of the footboard.

His cock strained toward her, filled to bursting with the need to make the dream a reality. She studied him with undisguised lust, and he paused at the edge of the bed. She rose up on her knees to welcome him with another searing kiss. Breast to chest, her skin flushed hot against his. She flattened her fingers against his sternum and he leaned forward.

“Stay,” she murmured. “I want to see all of you.” The shivery words fed the fire in his blood. Fighting the urge to cut the tension with a joke, he let her lean away.

Her lips feathered along his jaw, dipping to nuzzle his throat and teasing a path down his chest. Clenching his fingers, he forced himself to be still, allowing her to explore. Her tongue swirled over his nipple and his cock jerked toward her. He’d never considered his nipples worthy of such attention, but little slivers of lightning dug into his skin, shooting sparks into his brain and flooding his balls with need.

Her nails grazed along his skin, simple caresses spreading tingles. He thrust his fingers into her hair. A glittering, shower of white gold contrasted with the warm honey of her skin. He combed his fingers through it to explore the slender length of her spine.

Her mouth descended, tongue swirling over his belly button. The silken tresses of her hair glided along his cock and his breath clogged in his lungs. Her fingers joined her lips, and she wrapped one hand around him, the other slipping between his thighs to cup his balls.

His knees butted the edge of the bed, and he fought the fierce urge to buck into her fingers. He leaned forward, caressing her back down to the sensuous ass with slender black lace peeking out from the curve of her butt cheeks. His brain dimly registered the presence of the thong, but he teased the lace, edging his fingers beneath to rub her sweet, firm ass with its smooth perfection. The muscles clenched against his fingers and he laughed slowly. Her wet kiss circled the head of his cock and her fingers caressed him.

Thought warred with need. His hips bumped forward, pushing past her lips for a better angle. He glided his forefinger down the length of lace until he sensed the damp heat of her sex and then away again. Her low moan vibrated his cock, and he worried he might come before he was ready. Tiny teeth grazed his flesh gently with every hungry swallow.

“My turn.” His voice deepened and he urged her upward and then flipped her onto her back, two fingers tearing away the miniscule tuxedo thong wrapped so lovingly against her sex. The clips snapped and he tossed the scrap of cloth away. He roamed his hands along her breasts, over her belly, and to her thighs. He dropped down to his knees and pulled her ass to the edge of the bed.

One leg slid over his shoulder, and he kissed the inner thigh gently, teeth scraping the tender flesh. He worked his way up to her damp labia crowned by white-blonde curls. Perfection. A goddess laid out for his pleasure, and he intended to pleasure her.

Sparing a look upward, he blew a breath across the sweet, wet sex and dared a single sip. The gasp of her breath offered up a delightful combination of pleasure and encouragement. He teased the lips apart with his tongue. He wanted to play there for hours, but the need raging through his cock wasn’t going to allow for much time. Her thighs quivered next to his head as he massaged his mouth across her clit, sucking it in a teasing repeat of her lips on his cock. He vibrated it with his tongue, and her body thrashed around him. The heady smell of her musk filled his nostrils and her sweet cream flooded around his mouth. Bracing her hips, he plundered the flavor, unrelenting until the muscles of her stomach clenched and she cried out again.

Rubbing his cheeks against her thighs, he looked up to see her blue eyes dark with passion and grinned. “Still think we’ll need coffee…” He slid onto the bed, urging her toward the center.

“Remind me to tease you every night.” But her eyes sparkled with laughter and desire at him. He chuckled. Everything about her beckoned, so unpredictable, sexy, sweet and funny.

He had to write Madame Eve one hell of an endorsement.

Closing the distance, he forgot about conversation, endorsements, files, and the rest of the world. The only thing that mattered was the woman in front of him, the delicious curves that beckoned his lips, and he took his time. His hands explored the smooth lines of her body in between long hot, wet kisses.
So damn petite
.

So many of his first impressions had come from her larger than life personality, her lusty laughs, her teasing glances, and the simple serenity of her chin propped on her hand as she listened to him talk. All of those images collided in his mind, coalescing into the drop dead gorgeous woman perched on that curb.

A fucking amazing woman.

He abandoned her lips to kiss a path down her chest, sampling the warm, vanilla-scented skin. He drew on one turgid little nipple, just barely skimming the tip with his teeth.

“I have a confession to make,” he murmured. Her body writhed beneath his while he trailed a damp path to the other breast, intent on lavishing it with the same attention. He could spend the rest of his life right there, teasing the slender body for the soft noises she made.