Resilient Love (Navy Love Series Book 3) (19 page)

“Yes dear.”

I turn and pull J.C. away from the conversation he’s in the middle of with Clark and quickly lead him out of the bar.

We can’t get home fast enough after that kiss.

J.C.

We’re barely inside our apartment before I’m on Jo. Her staking her claim on me in front of Sheena was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve had women try to pull that same type of thing off before, but it’s never worked out for them. I’ve always found it to be annoying and even desperate that a woman, who’s no more than a one-night stand for me, felt it was necessary to make some kind of obscene gesture in public. Showing everyone that we’re together, even if it was only for a night.

My wife pulling that move though….

It. Was. Hot.

I could have laid her back on that pool table right there in the middle of the bar and had my way with her after her act of possessiveness. The only thing that kept me from doing just that was the tiny voice in the back of my head telling me that everyone in the bar would see Jo’s body and hear her pleasure.

I blindly guide her through the small living room and push her back onto the couch, following her down and never separating our lips. One hand sits at the base of her neck, guiding her head how I want it, while the other idly skims her waist, thigh, and breast.

I want nothing more than to peel her tight dress off and fuck her and I both into an oblivion, but she has other plans.

She wraps a leg around my waist, and in what feels like a karate move, flips me over and straddles me.

My sexual desire heightens tenfold, but before I'm able to act on it, she quickly climbs off my lap and runs to the kitchen, laughing the entire way.

“Don't think you ain't gonna pay for that, Jo!” I yell teasingly as she skirts around the bar.

I sit momentarily, trying to calm my raging hormones.

Finally calm enough to think, and walk, I follow her path to the kitchen. Standing in the entryway, I watch as she collects our drinks and goes about rummaging through our fridge to find something to cure her drunk munchies.

Seeing her stumble around while she finds all the ingredients she needs entices me; most would find humorous, but I don’t. I see
my
Jo. This crazy, fun girl is the one who stole my heart months ago. Traces of the old Jo are becoming more and more common, telling us all that she’s getting back to herself.

I silently thank the Lord that she’s finding her way back to me, to all of us.

“What are you making?” I ask, seeing the gallon of milk, shredded cheese, and a package of ham in her hands.

“Omelets!” Jo drunkenly replies.

For the thousandth time tonight, I’m thankful that us guys—Hunter, Reed, and I—all chose to keep our drinking to a minimum of three beers throughout the entire night. My phone chimed with texts from both of them a short while ago letting me know they’d made it home safely with their drunk girls.

“Darlin’, you ain’t cookin’ tonight.”

She cocks a hand on her hip and arches an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

I walk over and pull the ingredients out of her hands, place them on the counter beside the stove, grab a small skillet and instruct her to grab the eggs from the fridge. It doesn’t take me long to whip up two ham and cheese omelets and we’re both seated at the four seater table in the conjoined dining room.

“Mmm…This is so damn good, J.C.”

Even in her inebriated state, she’s still sexy as can be to me.

“Hurry up and finish eating,” I say as I put my now empty plate in the sink. “All your moanin’ as you eat and that kiss you gave me in the bar are enough to drive me wild.” I lean against the counter and watch her face heat with desire. “And I’m more than ready to take you to bed.”

Jo, being the smartass that she is, doesn’t hurry up and scarf down her food. No, she continues at her slow pace, all the while I stand at the counter holding onto my patience by a tiny thread.

She sits her fork down on her plate with a clatter and adrenaline spikes up in my bones knowing that she’s finished and I can finally strip her out of that tight dress she’s wearing.

I had every intention of taking my time tonight and seducing her; slowly undressing her and giving her a good rub down before I sink my cock into her. But that’s out the window now, any attempt at seduction or romance will have to wait for another day. It’s no longer a want, it’s an unyielding need.

She stands, I assume to put away her dirty plate like I did, but I’m surprised when she just leaves it sitting on the table and unhurriedly starts walking the short distance towards me.

Her hands go to the side of her dress and I can hear the sound of the zipper like a freight train throughout the room. With a snap of a hook, the entire dress, along with her strapless bra, fall to the floor, leaving Jo in only a scrap of material covering her pussy.

“What are you doing?” My voice is suddenly hoarse.

She doesn’t answer, just stops right in front of me and begins unbuttoning my pearl snap shirt. Once she’s succeeded in opening it up, she splays gentle kisses across my pecs and the tattoo along my chest, and down my abs, slowly finding her way to her knees and her hands to my belt buckle.

Lost in the feel of her hands on my body and still stunned by what exactly is happening, I’m at a loss at what to do other than allow her to lead the way. The gentle yet firm grip of her hand is almost my undoing as she unhooks the button of my jeans, reaches her hand inside and grasps my achingly hard cock. Thankfully, I somehow manage to keep myself under control.

It doesn’t last long though.

Jo’s hand firmly strokes from base to tip and back again. The rhythmic pace slowly drives me mad. I have to fight the urge to keep from pulling away from her and taking control of this situation.

“Jo,” I groan. I roll my head back, eyes closed but facing up towards the ceiling, unable to watch her hands working me over any longer. It’s too spectacular of a sight.

All of a sudden I feel her hand at the base once again and something wet at the tip.
Her tongue
. She unhurriedly licks the end, swiping away the small amount of precum, then sucks my head into her mouth and rolls her tongue around like it’s a fucking lollipop.

Poor Jo, I’m sure she has great intentions for this would-be epic blowjob, but the minute she took me all the way to the back of her throat and I felt her gag a little, I lost what little bit of restraint I had left in me.

I pull her from the floor, walk across the small kitchen and, without a second thought, lay her back on the kitchen table.

Fuck the bedroom. Fuck the romance. Fuck taking my time. All of that will have to wait for next time.

Jo is the only woman able to get me so worked up that I can’t contain myself. One thing I’ll never have to worry about with her is a lack of sexual desire and willingness to give and take with the control in our sex life.

With limitations of course.

She had her little bit of control for the night, now it’s my turn to lead us both over the edge of the sexual cliff she’s set us on.

I yank her panties down her legs, stripping her of the one small piece of scrap material separating me from her fully exposed body, and glide my eyes over her laid bare and waiting for me.

Good God she’s beautiful.

Wasting no time, I slide right into her waiting pussy, the heat of her body feeling like heaven as I fully seat myself inside her.

“Fuck me, Darlin’, you feel so damn good.”

“Move, please, J.C. I need you to move.”

“Yes ma’am.”

My movements start off slow and precise, however it doesn’t take long until I’m recklessly pumping in and out, chasing not only my release but hers as well.

I pepper light kisses to her neck and pull her earlobe into my mouth, slightly biting down and drawing a long groan out of her throat.

“Tell me you’re there, Jo. I need you with me.”

“I’m there,
oh fuck
, I’m there!”

My hand slides up her stomach and right in between her breasts, where I grip the base of her neck and apply a small amount of pressure, triggering her orgasm to come crashing down around my cock.

The grip of her walls squeeze me as her nails scrape down my lower back, sending a pleasurable pain through me as my own orgasm jolts through my body. We both cry out in ecstasy, her nails dig into my skin and my grip on her neck tightens slightly, prolonging the high we’re both riding on.

Somehow I manage to keep my weight on my forearms during the rush of it all. With my forehead pressed against her collarbone, I huff and puff, patiently allowing my breathing to slow back to a normal pace.

“Fuck, that felt amazing,” I finally say and look up, locking eyes with her.

She smiles sweetly and nuzzles against my chest. Between eating, the alcohol and now her orgasm, my sweet Jo is quickly surrendering to the sleep that’s beckoning her.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” At her nod, I do just that. Carrying her to our room and tucking her securely into my side, her head barely hits the pillow before she’s fast asleep.

Jo

I let half of the day go by before I can’t help myself anymore. I tried, I really did. I wanted to turn my brain off and let Marshall handle everything on his own, but I just can’t.

He’s been the nosy one with the best intentions to all of us before, now it’s time for me to do the same.

I grab my phone off the coffee table and shoot off another text.

Marsh: What’re you doing? You OK after last night?

The previous three have gone unanswered. I’ll give him a few minutes to respond before I’m calling in backup.

J.C. has told me multiple times today to give Marsh some space; while he does think that he may need a listening ear, he also believes I need to allow Marshall to come to me when he’s ready to. I don’t agree with that. I want to know what’s going on with him.

After going through depression and suffering through everything alone, or predominantly alone, I know how easy it is to fall into that tunnel of not wanting to burden anyone or feeling as though you deserve being neglected. It’s not an easy path to go down, and I don’t want to watch a close friend go through it.

Checking my phone yet again, knowing the ringer is turned on and I didn’t hear the chime indicating a text, I give up on believing he’s actually going to respond.

Time for that backup.
Tessa.

Ring

Ring

Ri
—“Hey girl!” She sounds winded.

“Uh, hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Apparently one night wasn’t enough to satisfy Hunter.”

The realization hits me at what I would’ve interrupted had I called a few minutes earlier and I can’t help the blush that creeps up my cheeks.

“So, what’s going on?”

“I uh, well I was just worried about Marshall. He didn’t ride home with us, claimed he would get a ride on his own. I don’t know, T; he was just off all night last night.”

“I noticed he was acting weird. I wish he’d talk to us. I don’t know if his attitude was because of being stood up or what. He was really quiet on the way to the bar; his anger came out of nowhere shortly after we arrived.”

It brings comfort to me knowing that I’m not alone in my concerns for him.

“Look, we’ve both got a lot on our plates right now, and as worried about him as I am, we both know Marsh. He’s gonna have to come to us when he’s ready to talk.”

Although she can’t see me, I nod my head in agreement.

Marshall is very private; and stubborn as hell. If Tess, or any of us for that matter, approach him before he’s ready to discuss what’s going on in his love life, he’ll shut down the conversation quickly.

We make an agreement to stay aware but on the sidelines until Marshall decides he’s ready. He already knows we care about him, but now it’s a matter of staying by his side and being there whenever the time comes that he needs us.

I only hope that this Preston dude is worth all the hell he’s causing Marsh. Whatever his story is, it had better be a damn good one.

I’m sitting in our room watching J.C. get everything ready for work tomorrow; his demeanor seems uncertain and I’m not sure why.