Desire Unmatched: 4 (Coded for Love) (18 page)

“You.” His kisses trailed a wet path down her neck. His hand
covered territory covered by clothing.

“Yes, but
how
?”

A slow smile spread across his face as he lost his pants and
boxers, then lowered himself to her sofa. It was the most adorable thing she’d
ever seen. “Strip,” he ordered.

She didn’t protest, didn’t speak, simply followed orders to
the letter, then stepped between his legs. She had his full attention and his
gaze seared her skin where it touched.

“Hot,” he said under his breath.

She paused in the act of undressing. “Have you ever been to
a strip club?”

A shake of his head.

“Do you want to?” His frozen expression made her laugh.
“Never mind. Stupid question.” She started to undress again, this time slowly,
seductively. His eyes did not waver.

She’d taken exactly one pole dancing class at the local
health club, but she worked it as best she could. His erect penis pointed at
her from between his legs. When she’d lost all clothes save her tiny panties,
she sashayed over to him and gave her best imitation of a lap dance. When she
stopped feeling like an ungraceful fool, she started to get really into it. Her
hips swung and her breasts swayed in his face.

“Emma,” he said, a warning in his voice. “Stop teasing.”

“Why? You don’t like it?” She flipped her blonde head while
bending low and shaking her ass.

“You know I do. Another day, when we have more time, I’m
making you do this again. Music, lights, the whole thing.”

“What costume will I wear?” she asked in a purr, leaning to
plant his face in her cleavage. “Schoolgirl?”

He groaned. “Torture. You’re trying to kill me.”

Laughing, she stopped the dance to straddle his lap. Her
breasts were at eye level, which he took full advantage of. She gasped as he
took her nipple into his mouth and bit gently.

Her hands stroked the short silky bristles of his shaved
head. They had a short time together before he left for France. She needed to
imprint this memory to hold her together for the next few days.

His large hands cupped her silk-clad rear, tugging her over
his erection. With her knees planted firmly into the sofa cushion, she rocked
against him. His long, heavy length slid smoothly over the fabric of her
panties, which rapidly grew damp from their combined desire.

“Gonna miss you,” he rasped against her skin.

She tugged his head back and lowered hers for a kiss. Their
tongues entwined. Her arousal was climbing to new heights. There was a
desperate quality to their passion since they knew they were to be separated,
if only for a period of days. Still, life had taught both of them that nothing
was certain. They’d learned the hardest way possible the best intended plans
had a funny way of derailment.

She pushed her fear-fueled thought away and forced herself
to be present in the moment. She was with Xander right now. His hands roamed
her body, stroking her back, her arms, her breasts. She did her own exploring
over his large body. His muscles rippled under her hands. No fat lay under his
skin. He was all sinewy strength, and she wanted to touch him forever.

“Can I rip these?” he asked.

She pulled back a bit to look him in the eye. His hands were
no longer on her breasts. They clenched the lacy cobweb of silk panties at her
hip.

“Go for it.”

His biceps bulged, there was a tearing sound, and the fabric
between her legs was pushed to the side.

“Put me inside you,” he said. His large palms clasped her
hips, lifting her so she could grab hold of his cock and angle him inside her.
She sank down, ignoring the burn and the tight fit. His eyes were closed and
his jaw was clenched. She felt powerful, in control.

Her strong soldier was at her mercy. She’d make him beg.
Testing the angle, she squeezed her inner muscles around him. He groaned in
response.

“Emma, don’t tease. I’m not gonna last if you do that.”

“Do what?” she asked innocently. “This?” She rose on her
knees and sank back down. Hard.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Or was it this?” She tightened her vaginal muscles and
swiveled her hips. Yeah, that was working for her.

“Emma.” He grasped her hips, held her immobile and got to
work. She couldn’t move anything other than her hands and torso. Her lower half
was helpless to do anything but remain in Xander’s grip and take his furious
thrusts.

She was filled. Her whole being was consumed at the spot
where their bodies joined. “Xander. Yes.” It was the only word she was capable
of saying. She threw out several more
yeses
as her pleasure built into
something she couldn’t handle. She’d explode. Combust. Faint.

He’d taken over the sex and he did it like he did everything
else in his life. Controlled, powerful, sublime. He took her to heights they
hadn’t before reached. A pleasurable sob escaped when his mouth took a nipple
in to suck and bite.

“Xander, please.”

His movements slowed. “Xander please stop? Or Xander please
more?” he asked, sounding as if he’d run for miles.

“More, more. Always more.” She wasn’t making sense. Nothing
in the world made sense except for him deep inside, bringing her a pleasure so
good it had to be illegal.

“Come for me, babe.”

“Not yet.” She wanted this to last. It needed to carry her
through the next few days without him.

“Now,” he ordered.

She was helpless to disobey. Her body clenched around his
cock and her vision wavered.

“Stay with me,” he said, speeding his rhythm.

“No. Can’t take more.” Her eyes squeezed shut. She clung to
his shoulders.

“You will. You’ll take everything I have to give you.” His
hips went back to jerky, hard thrusts with enough force to have her breasts
bouncing in his face. It was too much. Her body was going to explode with her
insides clawing their way out of her skin. He kept going, and she tried to remember
how to breathe.

“Xander, please.” This time, it might have been a
Xander
please stop
. Tears pushed their way out of the corner of her eye as Xander
fucked her harder than she’d ever been taken in her life. He took her as if he
wanted to imprint his need for her on her body before leaving. If something
went wrong and this was the last time they made love, he’d be branded on her
forever.

“Emma,” he said in a low murmur and cupped her cheeks as he
kissed her sweeter than a puppy playing.

He broke her. Tears and cries of pleasure poured from her
body as she came again. This time he joined her.

Her fingernails dug into the skin on his shoulder blades as
she rode out the waves of pleasure. They clung to each other on the couch for
long minutes, coming down off the high.

Finally, he lifted her and deposited her next to him. “Gotta
go shower,” he muttered. He got up without looking at her and disappeared into
the bathroom. She stared at the closed door. What the hell had happened?

They’d had the most explosive, deeply connected sex, and he
ran out of the room. Shaking slightly, she gathered her clothes scattered on
the floor and dressed. She needed armor for when Xander emerged from the
bathroom.

She didn’t have long to wait. Like all things in his life,
Xander showered with quick efficiency and was soon emerging from the bathroom
wrapped in a towel around his waist, with water droplets on his shoulder.

She sat silently on the sofa, waiting for him to acknowledge
her, but he barely looked her way as he tugged on his clothes. Finally, he
glanced at her. “I’m heading out now. Walk me to the garage?”

Something in the way she shook her head triggered a reaction
in him to slow his movements and step into her space. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She didn’t want to pick a fight minutes before he
left.

He squatted on his haunches in front of where she sat on the
couch. “Emma, don’t do this. I’m shitty at emotional games. What do you need
from me?”

She looked into his dark eyes and saw nothing but concern,
and she felt instantly contrite. He was right, he’d had no training or
experience in what she emotionally needed, and it wasn’t fair to make him
guess. The only way to know if he could give her what she needed was to lay it
on him and hope.

“Xander, after we make love, I need a little more from you.
I need words. Words that aren’t ‘gonna shower’.” She imitated his gruff
monosyllabic intonation.

His brows lowered. “Like what? What words do you need,
babe?”

He was trying, she had to give him that. She wanted love
words from him, but since she’d never given them to him, it wasn’t fair to
expect him to take the plunge.

“Emma, what do you want from me?” he asked again.

If he’d sounded even slightly impatient, she would’ve lost
courage. His curious, gentle tone told her he wanted to make her happy, but
didn’t understand what she wanted. She took a deep breath. “I’ll go first.” Her
hand brushed his cheek and she leaned forward on the couch. “Xander, I love
you, and I’ll miss you while you’re gone. Hurry back to me.”

He froze under her stroking palm. She wanted to cry at how
he looked trapped. “Emma, you’re my match,” he said, as if that meant
everything, and for him it probably did.

She bit back tears that her emotionally stunted lover might
never be able to say the words she longed to hear, but he broke her with his
next words.

“Em, you’re everything. Love is nothing compared to what I
feel for you. I need you more than air.” His gaze held hers in place. “You’re
my
match
.” His voice lowered to an emphatic whisper on
match
.

She launched herself off the couch, tumbling them onto the
floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Her lips found his and she kissed him with
every ounce of emotion racing through her veins. She was sobbing, he was
laughing as he absorbed her tackle and reciprocated the kiss.

He pulled back a fraction. “Don’t cry, Em. I’ll be home in
two days.”

“That’s not why I’m crying,” she managed, knowing her skin
was blotchy and her nose runny. She had to get it together or Xander would
leave with this as his image of her. She climbed off him and tried to look
calm.

He stood and pulled her to stand in front of him. “Do me a
favor?”

“Anything.”

“While I’m gone, write me a manual. I need instructions.
You’re crying, but you’re happy. You’re mad, but not at me. I swear, I can’t
keep up half the time.”

Half laughing, half crying, she looped her arms over his
shoulders. Standing on tiptoe, she gave a quick kiss. “Sorry, Xander. There’s
no manual on women.”

He pulled her in tight. “I don’t want a manual on women. I
want a manual on Emma.”

He got another kiss for that sweetheart comment. “Sorry,
you’re still out of luck. We’re going to have to wing it.”

He looked unhappy.

“Would it help to know you’re doing an amazing job at being
a boyfriend thus far?”

“I am?”

She stood back to tick items off her fingers. “Let’s see.
You’ve given me more orgasms in a few days than I’ve had in years, you brought
me breakfast in bed, you took me to the cinema, and most important, you stood
up to your father for me.”

The mention of the last item put a deeper frown on his face.
“Xander, stop frowning, or I’ll be forced to get on my knees and give you
something to smile about. Unfortunately there’s no time. You have to get
going.”

He glanced at the thick black rubber watch on his left
wrist. “Yeah, I’ve got to get going.” He took a step to the door, pulling her
with him by the hand. “You’re going to be all right?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It was two days,
three tops. He’d be back before she had time to miss him. Yet it was a sharp
ache in her chest.

“Walk me to the garage?”

She shook her head. “I’ll kiss you goodbye here.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He leaned down, pulling her up in his
arms. His lips met hers for a gentle, lingering lip lock. It was their first
kiss that wasn’t leading to sex. Every other time they’d kissed, either Xander
had stalked off or, more recently, they’d gotten naked. This was none of those
things. It was loving and tender and goodbye.
For now
, she forced
herself to remember. He’d be back. No one had two near-death experiences in a month’s
timeframe in non-combat situations.

“I’m not a poet, like you,” she whispered, “so all I can say
is I love you.”

He pressed his lips to hers firmly, then walked out,
shutting the door with a
click
.

She stared at the back of the door for a long minute, taking
breaths and repeating
three days
in her head like a prayer. He’d be
fine. She’d be fine. They’d be together soon.

* * * * *

Three days later

Xander stretched out his legs after tugging his overly large
headphones over his ears. The shades to the windows were drawn and the lights
of the plane were dim, but he wanted the
don’t talk to me
message as
clear as the neon Open sign at an all-night liquor store.

Gavin and Emmett chatted quietly in the chairs in front of
him, and he knew they’d include him in the convo. After the last seventy-two
hours of togetherness with them, he needed some quiet time. The interrogation
had gone as well as expected.

The French made threats. The captives refused to talk. More
threats made. More silence. In the end it didn’t matter. The group had been
caught in a van with everything Xander needed to put his world to rights.

The idiots had put his semen samples in a cheap cooler bag
with a few ice packs. Obviously they’d been heading to someplace with proper
storage to maintain them, but hadn’t counted on getting caught. Within a few
hours, the ice had melted and his samples weren’t fit for use anymore. Color
him happy.