A tractor trailer’s horn blasted up the street, severing the link.
She gasped, reeling back, her breasts heaving as she gulped in air.
He sucked in just as much as her. Swiping his half-finished water bottle off the small parts shelf beside him, he guzzled it in seconds.
Trembling, she set the meter on top a Buick’s radiator and hunched over, resting her weight on the front end. “Chance,” she stated throatily, making him that much harder. If this kept up, he’d have to look into anti-Viagra.
“Yeah?” He grabbed the new tire off the floor to hide his stiff condition.
“I, um,” she swiveled her face toward him, “I owe you a paycheck for the past week, but, I, uh…didn’t make it to the bank yesterday and they’re closed on weekends.” She avoided eye contact, but he still saw the way the corners of her eyes tightened.
Five retorts flew to his mouth at her obvious bullshit excuse, but he reined them in and continued mounting the new tire onto the rim. “Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged to sell the lie that his body wasn’t strung tighter than a zip line cable. “Listen.” He adjusted the valve stem. “I didn’t mean to cause you trouble yesterday.”
Her shoulders slumped, and he had to swallow the sudden anger souring his mouth. She should never look so defeated.
“Um, thanks.” Her spine snapped straight as if marshalling her defenses.
He wanted to applaud. That’s my Mandy.
My Mandy? Had he really thought that? Christ. But he couldn’t argue.
You’re mine, he told her silently. Shoving aside past hurt, unresolved issues, and the uncertainty of the true depth of his emotions, he still claimed her, and with it came his full protection. He’d let her think she’d kept him in the dark, but she’d soon learn that the eighteen-year-old who entered the Navy, retired as a hardened SEAL.
And Walter and this bookie just became his prey.
* * *
Chance readjusted the sleeves tied around his waist and dropped onto the grass beside Mandy. Bumping her with his knee as he found a moderately comfortable position, he held a bottle of water toward her that he’d carried from the garage.
“Bless you,” she groaned, raising her arm straight up, not moving from lying flat on her back.
He smirked and uncapped the bottle before slapping it into her palm. A small stream spilled over the top and splashed onto her exposed collarbone—of course she had re-peeled off the top half of her coveralls the second they reached her backyard, hammering at his frayed self-control. The trail of water trickled over her smooth, freckled skin, and he wished he could follow the trail with his tongue.
Opening his own bottle, he guzzled the entire contents in one long gulp to keep from bending over and quenching his thirst with the water on her body.
Walking her home after work had become a ritual. At first, she’d balked, but after two days of him mulishly following her anyway, she gave in. He didn’t trust Walter not to approach her when she didn’t have the modicum of protection from passersby on Main Street. After this morning’s revelations from Pepper, he was damn glad he’d insisted.
A squirrel chittered to his mate as he chased her up the immense oak tree beside them and disappeared within the full green leaves filtering out the sun. Chance’s eyes dropped to the woman lounging before him and the empty plastic bottle crinkled obnoxiously in his tightening fist. Having her splayed like an offering in the shade tested his restraint. Restraint he only had a tenuous grasp on at best.
Sliding his gaze to the six-foot wooden privacy fence he’d helped her father build, an argument raged between his brain and libido. The tree canopy covered them as much as the fence hid them from nosy neighbors…he could tear that sports bra off and—
“What happened?” She brushed the back of his knuckles with her fingers.
Gritting his teeth against both the fantasy and the storm of electricity from the contact zinging straight to his cock, he grunted. Turning his hand, he purposefully moved out of her touch while pretending to study the scrape. “New tire installation.” He shrugged. No way would he admit he’d lost his grip on the tire bar when she’d dropped to her hands and knees to look under the Buick. The way her ass rose in the air as she all but rested her cheek on the floor had made him storm out of the garage and pace behind a row of cars until he reined in the urge to tear her coveralls off and give them both relief.
“Let me get the first aid kit.” Her abdominal muscles shifted, and she started to lift herself up but he waved her off.
“No need.” He flipped his fist around to show her. “It’s not bleeding.”
She relaxed but bit her lip, her hazel eyes roving over his face. “Still. It’ll help.”
“Maybe, but…” He sighed and studied his freshly scrubbed fingernails now free of grease. She had a damn good hand brush at the garage. He’d have to ask her where she’d bought it. Later. Right now, he needed to tell her what was really on his mind. More important than lust—more important than anything—was figuring out how to make her safe.
“Hell, I can’t think of a smooth transition for a subject change, so I’ll just be blunt. You don’t have to handle Walter on your own. I’m here. I want…no, need to help.”
Every muscle Mandy owned turned to granite. Panic blared from her eyes before she closed them, and he witnessed the internal battle raging in her head. After too many seconds he dared not breathe during, she finally extended her arm above her head. His chest tightened at how her breast shifted and her nipple puckered against the fabric. She placed her empty bottle at the base of the tree, then rested her hand on her stomach and peered at him. “What do you know about Walter?”
Unwilling to break his promise to Pepper, he skirted around answering directly. “I’m thinking he’s not an employee of Springwell Bank and Trust.” Her eyes flashed and she didn’t hide her grimace well. “Yet he’s in your garage collecting money, so that tells me an alternate funding source is involved. Walter works for the, let’s say, lender who, I bet, is ruthless about repayment.” Gambling, he added an observation. “You’re in over your head and scared of him, but I think it’s deeper than his pushing to sleep with you. You don’t have a problem standing up for yourself…but you’d never put anyone else in danger. He’s threatened to harm people you care about.”
So many emotions flitted across her face and shadowed her eyes. Planting a hand against the grass, she pushed herself upright and leaned toward him. “I am in over my head and scared.” A tremor stole over her. “So much has happened since you left.” She inhaled. “I’ve missed this, missed talking to you…but what if I can’t ri—let you help me? Your drive to save everyone—”
“Fuck everyone else,” he growled, tunneling a hand beneath the chaotic curls surrounding her head. The silky tresses scraping the back of his hand reminded him of the olden days and snapped the last bit of self-control he had. Clamping onto the back of her neck, he pulled her closer, the need to taste her too much to fight. “The only person I care about is you.”
He crushed his lips against hers.
8
Mandy fell forward and braced herself against his pecs to stop from falling over completely. His mouth claimed hers and every nerve ending blew apart at the overload.
Her lips clamored for more while her fingers curled around exquisite muscle.
Tilting his head, he assaulted her mouth, and she lunged forward to mount her own offense. Crawling onto his lap, she straddled his hips, wrapping her legs around him, then drove her fingers into his hair.
He groaned and mercilessly besieged her lips as she urged him on for more.
Yanking her forward via a hand at the base of her spine, he pressed her against his hard, full length.
She almost came.
Nothing about this kiss spoke of tentative re-learning or getting reacquainted.
They attacked each other like two starving people at a buffet.
She shivered at his callused fingers caressing her spine wh
ile his tongue parted her lips to taste him and be devoured in return.
Jesus God. She couldn’t get enough.
Pulling on the ends of his hair, she stroked one hand down his back, hating the tank keeping her from feeling his skin. He shifted, scraping his dick—frustratingly hidden beneath his coveralls—against her sopping center, sending bolts of ecstasy through her. Chuffing, she lifted her hips to find her magic spot again.
He jutted his length forward, matching her rhythm, and she moaned at the tension inside coiling tighter.
Grabbing the bottom of his tank, she yanked it up and flattened her hand on his back. Thick, sinewy muscles beneath her palms ratcheted her primal side to almost out of control. She re-energized her attack on his mouth, dancing with his tongue to the point of punishing. She needed him. Now. The primitive instinct to mark him raged, and she ferociously wanted him imprinted on her skin. Wanted his scent melding with hers like they used to so long ago.
He matched every movement and countered with his own. Giving even better than he got.
Consumed by him, she bit his lip, then licked it.
He growled, the vibrations teasing her nipples and she sucked in air.
Biting her lower lip in return, he pulled it with his teeth as he fisted her hair hard enough to prickle her scalp with pain.
“More,” she breathed when he let go of her bottom lip.
Forcing her head back by her curls, he licked the column of her throat and she groaned.
“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he uttered against her collarbone, his tone sounding like he’d swallowed gravel.
“Right back at you.” She shifted her hips and ground her clit against his length again, re-establishing her rhythm.
“Fuck.” He twisted, laying her down. Soft grass tickled her back just as a hard body covered her front.
Memories tried to flood her brain, but she kicked them out. Nothing but this moment could invade her mind.
Her thighs dropped open and he settled between them, his hard, full cock nestling against her perfectly, proving they were made to fit together.
Kissing a path down her neck, the rough fingers of a working man slid up her abdomen. Every inch he touched, her skin rippled and her muscles quivered beneath. His stroke felt new and old. Familiar like he’d never left, yet so foreign, now laced in carnal confidence she didn’t recognize.
Unable to take it anymore, she pulled on his tank and he reached a hand over his shoulder and yanked it off, tossing it toward the tree.
Holy… She swallowed hard. Acres of muscled flesh hovered just above her and her eyes gorged on the feast. Another black tattoo she’d only caught glimpses of covered part of his right pec. Using her fingertip, she traced the tips of the SEAL Trident standing tall, then savored the smoothness as she stroked over the inked ribbon winding down it.
“‘The only easy day was yesterday,’” she quoted huskily, reading the words within.
He nodded, his eyes blazing as they traced her face. “Heard it a lot during BUD/S.” His skin goose bumped under her wandering hand. “AKA twenty-five weeks of miserable hell called SEAL training.”
White ridges of old scar tissue riddled his skin. Saliva pooled in her mouth and she lifted her head and licked the closest one. Sweat’s salty tang coated her tongue, and she traced a path to the next one, craving more.
Air sucked between his teeth and he jerked back. “I’ve waited so long to taste you again.”
Using one hand, he burrowed beneath the bottom of her sports bra and forced the spandex over her breasts. Air breezed across her throbbing nipples and she arched her back, showing him where she needed him.
Roughly, he surrounded her right breast with his large, hot palm and squeezed.
“Again,” she moaned, arching even higher.
Latching onto her hard bud with his mouth, he sucked deeply then flicked the tip with tongue.
Crying out, she dug her fingernails along his scalp, pulling him closer. Jolt after jolt shot through her body, straight to her quivering womb.
His teeth scraped the edges of her nipple on their way to torture her other breast.
Involuntarily, her hips jutted up, and she worked her clit against his heavy cock. Over and over, she stroked.
Quicker and quicker, his tongue lapped.
He twisted her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger just as he sucked her left one hard.
“Ohhhh,” she groaned. “Chance.” Explosions rocked her body, flooding her with waves of ecstasy. Her vision blacked as the orgasm took control.
Slowly regaining focus, she purred at him where he sprawled, lazily swirling his tongue around her areola. Muscling him up by his hair, she sealed her mouth on his. In half a second, he took over and the gentle kiss turned into a raging inferno.
“Man-dy!” a female voice yelled. “Are you out…OH! Sorry!”
Chance growled and broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m going to kill your roommate.”
Mandy giggled—giggled! What the hell?
“Yeah, um,” Pepper called, half laughing, half strained. “Sorry to interrupt y’all, but, we’ve got to leave. The awards ceremony starts in an hour and we’re supposed to be manning the check-in table.”
Damn Tiny Tikes Intramural Soccer League. Why had she volunteered to help this season?
“I know how to make it look like an accident,” Chance whispered grumpily. “Better yet, I’ll make it so they never find her body.”
Mandy whapped him on the bicep and had to hold back a moan at the way her hand bounced off the granite muscle. “Be good.”
“I wanted to be amazing.”
A spasm clenched her lower belly, and she suddenly wasn’t so amused at Pepper’s intrusion.
He pulled her sports bra back in place and rolled off.
Mandy situated the fabric and yelled to Pepper’s back, “I’m coming.”
“Not as many times as I’d hoped,” Chance muttered as he snatched his tank off the ground.
Reality seeped over the regret, leaving her confused, frustrated, and…hopeful which instantly threw her guard up. “I’ll, um…” She scratched her nose, searching for an answer but nothing popped into her head. “…see you Monday morning?”
Chance stilled his retying the coverall sleeves together and lifted his eyes slowly to hers. “Is that what you want?”
She shrugged. Her mind and heart were currently battling so she couldn’t give him a simple answer if she tried.
Amusement crept into the beautiful brown irises. Damn him. No doubt he’d figured out she had a war raging. He always saw too much and knew her too well.
Helping her off the ground, he caressed a fingertip along her jaw, making goose bumps rise on her body. The light kiss he feathered across her lips did nothing to answer the question of when she’d see him again.
Watching him split off for the gate in the fence, Mandy continued on to Pepper still hovering on the back porch. This evening tipped the scales. Instincts urged her to trust him, and she realized that she already had to a degree, testing the waters with a few statements. She was a lot closer to unlocking the mystery as to whether she was still in love with him or the nostalgia of what they once had.
* * *
Sitting on the back deck watching storm clouds blotting out the dying light, Chance lifted his beer and swallowed the cool liquid. Wind gusts ruffled his damp hair and did nothing to cool the inferno still boiling inside. He had stroked himself off in the shower but only found emptiness, not relief.
Thunder rumbled ominously, but no rain fell from the fat clouds yet. Hopefully the storm would relieve the humidity choking the air. He thumped his bare feet on top the railing ringing the covered deck and rested his bottle on his shirtless stomach.
Should I stick to my diet regimen or—
His cellphone blared the least annoying ringtone he could find in the pre-programed list. Fishing it out of his cargo shorts’ side pocket, he snorted at Harris’s picture fi
lling the screen.
“How’s the adventure going?” Chance asked, placing the call on speaker and setting the device on his stomach beside the beer.
“You should be...”—dead air—“…us.”
“You’re breaking up.” Chance swallowed more beer. The sky brightened suddenly with lightning.
“Yeah,” Lee chimed in, letting Chance know they were together. “Coverage has been spotty.” Silence. “…a bitch on the music app.”
“Would you get off that already,” Harris groused. “We’re stopped for the night in Arkansas. Close to the Oklahoma border.”
Chance chuckled. He could just imagine the fights his two brothers were probably having about the music. Harris tended toward southern, classic rock, and country, while Lee preferred alternative rock and heavy metal.
“Don’t be worried…” silence “… you can’t reach us,” Lee stated. “The Shelby’s doin’ fine.”
A knot unfurled in Chance’s stomach at the pronouncement. Maybe they wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road after all. “You seeing anything interesting?”
“Sure are,” Harris answered just as the clouds released their payload. “We’re trying to stay off the highways as much as possible.” Dead air. Chance increased the volume over the rain pounding the roof. “…to see more than ugly road signs and median trees.”
“It takes longer,” Lee inserted, “but we’re not on a schedule so we could give a—”
Staticky silence.
“Sounds like a plan.” Chance inhaled the ozone saturating the air. He loved a good thunderstorm.
“How’s it going there?” Harris asked.
“You figure…Mandy’s in danger?” Lee tacked on.
For a brief instant, Chance thought about confiding in his brothers. To unload what he had learned about her father’s gambling and Walter’s role in collecting, but he bit his tongue. Why make them worry? Or worse, make them cut their trip short. Lee had to unwind and recharge. After Dad’s death and his own unexpected medical discharge, Lee had lost so much faith in himself, he needed the road trip to let off steam and hopefully restore his confidence. As for Harris, he’d been the closest to their dad so the death hit him the hardest. And whether he admitted it or not, Chance had spied signs of Harris struggling with his military career. Chance prayed the road trip would give Harris a measure of peace and maybe some of the answers he was internally seeking.
SEAL’s Homecoming: SEAL & Veteran Series: Book One Page 6