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His cock tented the sheet and, groaning, he reached down, wrapping his fingers around it. She’d been so wet and so damn tight, he’d barely managed to withhold from erupting the very instant he’d pushed into her. He moved his hand up and down as he closed his eyes and relived the ecstasy of being deep in her.

Roxi had taken what he’d given and had asked for more. There had been no hesitation on her part—she’d not been shy about telling him what she liked or wanted.

He stroked his hand faster, tightening his grip until he came with a low grunt. He didn’t move until he’d finished, then he padded to her bathroom and cleaned up. For a brief moment, he dwelled on the thought he’d not used a condom that first time. Then he shoved it aside—it had happened, couldn’t change it now. It had been a mistake and not one he’d be making again. The lack of a condom, not the sleeping with Roxi. That he
definitely
planned on doing again.

Finished dressing, he opened her door only to freeze as he heard Laila’s voice.

“Where’s Sam, Roxi?”

He closed the door almost completely, not sure Roxi would want Laila to know he’d been in her room with her all night.

“In bed? I don’t know, Laila, I was walking with you, remember?”

Swivelling, he repositioned himself to see up the hallway. Roxi stood at the end, leaning there. He felt himself stir and took his time digesting what she wore. Low-riding grey sweats and a white shirt.

“He doesn’t sleep much and is usually up by now.”

Laila was right. He could see her now, by Roxi. There was no way he’d make it to his room without being spied. Not with where Laila stood.

“So perhaps he’s allowing himself to sleep in.”

Laila scowled and crossed her arms. Roxi huffed and shrugged.

“You got me, Laila,” she said in a dry tone. “Sam spent the night with me, in my bed. We fucked like bunnies all night long. I wore him out and left him sleeping in my bed.”

Roxi told her? Sam wasn’t sure he believed it. Laughter made him realise Laila didn’t believe it either.

“You and Sam? Oh, Roxi, that’s a good one. Why didn’t you just say you hadn’t any clue?”

Sam caught the slight tensing of Roxi’s body, even from this distance. Apparently Laila didn’t. Her laughter bothered Roxi. Why?

“I did tell you, Laila.”

Laila’s smile grew. “So you did. I just…” More laughter. “… Oh, God, you and Sam?”

“This is funny to you?”

Laila sobered. “That’s a good one. I don’t mean to laugh, Roxi, but…”

“But you are. I get it, Laila. I get it.” Roxi walked towards the kitchen, each step breaking his heart a little more.

He’d never seen Laila so callous before.

Laila peered down the hall again as if unsure, then she headed in the direction Roxi had gone. He sneaked to his room and grabbed his shoes, only to creep out and do a short jog. The house was quiet when he got back. He paused in the entryway and listened for any voices. Nothing. Alert, he cautiously made his way in. Peering in the kitchen, he noticed a figure at the table.

He had to be honest. Seeing Laila wasn’t what he’d expected. She sat there, leafing through a magazine as she drank coffee—judging by the smell.

“Laila?”

Her head snapped up and a grin crossed her pretty face. “Hey. Where have you been?”

“Running.” He lowered his head and looked over his sweaty body.

Her fingers flexed around the mug as if she waited for him to say more. Or had the wish to say something herself. When she didn’t speak, he turned and headed to his room. He was aware she followed him but didn’t stop until she touched him. The feel of her fingers upon him did nothing sexually for him, however he did halt. Silent, he rotated to see her with worry in her expression.

“Everything okay, Sam?”

He’d detected honest concern in her tone. “Yes.”

“I know this hospitalisation isn’t easy on you.”

“Not easy on anyone.”

“I know that, but it’s harder on us than many.” She squeezed his arm then released him. “I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to Dean and the others for you to stay with me.”

“It’s fine.”

She wrung her hands and when her lower lip trembled, he knew he was screwed. He’d always hated seeing her cry. He drew her close and hugged her. She easily returned the hug, despite him being sweaty from his run.

“You’re coming for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to fall back on, Sam.”

He brushed his lips along her forehead. “You’ll never have to worry about that, Laila, we’re family.”

She nodded against his chest and held him tighter.

To his right, movement caught his eye and he saw Roxi step from her room, her hair drawn back and loosely captured at the base of her neck. She’d dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved Seattle Sounders shirt. The smile she gave him almost had him stepping from Laila’s embrace to her own. As she walked by and up the hall, he was mesmerised by the sway of her ass and the booted heels she wore.

“Roxi?” Laila said from his embrace.

“Yeah?” She peered back.

“Want to do dinner tonight? For all?”

Sam caught the tensing of Roxi’s jaw. “Sure, we can do it. Your house, just let me know what time. Preferably by lunch, so I have time to make something.”

“Great.” She stepped away from Sam and reached up on tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. Nothing new for Laila to do, yet this time he never took his gaze off Roxi. “I’ll see you later, then. Both of you.”

When Laila captured his face in her hands, he glanced at her.

“Have a good day, Sam.”

Then she was gone. He took a quick shower and came out to find Roxi measuring the doorway to her laundry area. He watched her in silence, waiting for her to notice him. She stared at him before shrugging.

“Measuring. I have to run to the building supply store anyway and figured I may as well get a door while I’m there.” She answered his non-verbalised question.

“Door won’t fit in your Tribeca.”

“I know. I’ll have it delivered.” She wrote the measurements down on paper then shoved it in her pocket.

“I’ll do it.”

She blinked and shook her head in confusion. “Do what?”

“Bring it for you. I have a truck.”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not. I have to finish up at Second Chances then I can go.”

Roxi looked at him a short time before she walked to him. She slid her hands up his arms. Their gazes locked. “Okay, you want to help me. I’ll help you. Let’s go to Second Chances and we’ll stop at the store on the way home.”

Home.

There was that word again. He swallowed, unused to the emotions bombarding him.

Her fingers danced along the back of his neck. “Unless you don’t want me in your truck.”

Lust hit him. “I want you.” The words were deep and raspy. Didn’t make them any less true.

Her eyes heated with passion. “Good.” She stepped back and walked off, crooking her finger at him.

He willingly followed.

* * * *

Three hours later, he was under one of the sinks at Second Chances. Roxi was busy finishing up the painting. She’d been all smiles when the children arrived. The staff had got some as well. While Roxi never forced him into any conversation, she always made him feel included.

“How’s it going?”

His entire body stiffened at the sound of her voice. Willing his hard cock to give him a break, he replied, “Okay.”

“Wonderful. I’m going to get the paint cleaned up and I’ll be back to help you.”

She left and he craned his neck to watch her walk away. She never seemed to mind that his answers were so short and succinct. His body thrummed at the prospect of having her close again.

True to her word, she returned shortly. He ogled her long, firm, jean-encased legs before she crouched and he could see her face.

“What can I do?”

He wriggled his way out from beneath the sink and sat. A grin tipped up the corner of his mouth. She had splatters of paint on her smooth skin as well as in her hair.

“You’re smiling,” she said with feigned shock. “What’s so funny?”

He was so pleased she didn’t seem offended that he may have been laughing at her.

“You…” He circled a finger around his face.

Dawning grew in her expression. “Paint on my face?”

“And hair.”

She sighed then shrugged. “I’m surprised I’m not wearing more, honestly.”

“Like little freckles,” he said. Sam gave into his urge to touch her and played a short version of connect the dots with the paint splatters on her face.

In half a heartbeat, his world narrowed to just the two of them. He stared in her eyes, the colour of rich coffee, and startled himself with what he saw. His future.

Roxi crouched there on her haunches, watching him right back. Her hair, mostly pulled back, aside from the few wisps which curled around her face, gentled her appearance. Soft. Alluring. Heart-stopping. She was all of that and more to him.

His shaft pulsed when he skimmed her lower lip with his thumb and she nipped it with her teeth. The blaze in her stare told him she, too, was more than aware of the increasing sexual draw between them.

It was just as strong as it had been the previous night. He lowered his gaze and stared at the rest of her. She’d pushed up the sleeves on her shirt and the way she sat manipulated her jeans tight over her thighs and—he knew—her firm ass.

Lust pounded through him. He longed to lift her and impale her on his cock. Her back against the wall, head tossing as she screamed his name. Right here. Right now.

“Come on, Marine, we have a bathroom to fix.”

He moved his hand around to the back of her neck and pressed, encouraging her to shift closer. She followed his silent directive without hesitation. He lightly licked along the edges of her lips before capturing her mouth with his own. Light swipes along the seam and she opened for him.

Their groans were combined as tongues met and duelled. His cock swelled even more while her taste rejuvenated him. Soul included. Roxi had this way of banishing ghosts from his past without doing anything.

The sounds of a door opening and footsteps snapped him out of the ‘Roxi zone’ he’d been in. Ending the kiss, he reluctantly removed his hand from her. He almost lost his newly gained control when her tongue sneaked out and swiped along her lips like she wanted another taste.

“Sam?” Father O’Toole called out. “Roxi?”

Gaze locked with Roxi’s, he didn’t move when she replied to the call. “In the far left bathroom. We’re fixing the sink.”

A keen sense of loss filled him as she stood and broke their visual connection. He lay back and returned to work with the wrench, listening to Roxi and Father O’Toole talking in the doorway. It was a good thing he didn’t have to concentrate too hard for his mind couldn’t—or wouldn’t—let go of the time he’d spent in Roxi’s arms.

* * * *

Roxi waited at the Seattle bus station. A mocha latte in her hand, she worried her lower lip. Her mind was a jumbled mess. She and Sam had settled into an easy routine over these past few days and she had no problem with him staying at her place. Granted, the nights in his arms didn’t hurt anything either.

No, it was the not telling Laila that constantly ate at her. She wasn’t blind, she saw the way Laila looked at Sam. And she knew her friend was possessive over him.

You’ve fallen for him,
her brain announced.

After a sigh, she drank some of her latte. No point in arguing—she had. Fallen fast and fallen hard.

“Aunt Roxi!”

Eric’s voice pierced her bubble and she blinked as her eyes threatened to well up with tears. He strode through the station in his uniform, cover under one arm and bag in the other. Beside him walked Sandra, the mother of another cadet, Roy, who’d escorted them here.

“Eric,” she said fondly, setting her drink down and accepting his hug with pleasure.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear.

“Missed you, too.” She squeezed tighter before releasing him. “Thank you, Sandra. Hello, Roy.”

“Ms Roxi.”

The women shared a smile and walked out to Roxi’s SUV. With the boys in the back, she chatted with Sandra as she took them home. Soon it was just her and Eric on the ferry to Bremerton.

“Ready for Thanksgiving?” she asked her nephew.

He nodded. She reached in her purse and withdrew his Game Boy. His eyes lit up the instant he saw it. He wasn’t allowed electronics at the academy.

“I have to tell you something, Eric.”

He stared at her, his large brown eyes focused directly on her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetie. I just want you to know there is a guest at the house.”

“Who?”

“A man named Sam Hoch.”

Eric was silent for a moment, the electronic device she’d handed him ignored in his lap. “Why?”

“He is a very good friend to Master Guns and came out to see him while he’s in the hospital.”

“He’s military?”

She nodded. “Marine.”

“Cool. Can I play now?”

She fought the urge to haul him close and kiss him. “Of course.”

Eric played the remainder of the ferry ride. She sat beside him and read a book. It was routine for them. Once he’d settled down a bit more he’d tell her about how things were going at the academy. His game play continued even after they got back into the vehicle.

The garage door sat wide open as they pulled in the drive. She could see Sam working by his truck but he stopped when he noticed them.

“That’s him?” Eric asked.

She parked outside so he’d continue to have room to work in the garage. “That’s him.”

All six feet three inches of hard-bodied Marine Recon hotness. He wore dark blue jeans that made her mouth water. A navy blue sweatshirt covered his impressive upper body—his defined, rock-solid muscles, powerful arms, warm skin that smelt like…

“Aunt Roxi?”

She blinked repeatedly as she attempted to pretend she’d not lost track of what Eric had been saying. Unfortunately she had.

“Sorry, Eric. What did you say?” She glanced at him.