“So we better take advantage of this time now,” he said coolly, ducking lower to brush a kiss against her full pink lips. He kissed her slowly, the way she liked, letting his tongue softly tease her.
She whimpered slightly, and he felt his cock twitch.
“Because,” he said, moving his lips down her jawline, enjoying the way she still trembled at his touch. “In six months....” He kissed the sensitive spot below her ear, inhaling her floral fragrance. Loving the catch of her breath.
“We’ll have a baby. Our baby.”
His teeth grazed her neck as she melted against him.
Full breasts pressed against his muscular chest, her nipples firm with arousal. His hard cock nudged against her stomach. Her entire body was practically melded to his.
Fuck yeah.
“And although our baby will take up our time in the best of ways, I want to enjoy my wife right now.”
He ducked down and scooped Rebecca into his arms as she squealed in surprise.
He held her closely to him as he carried her to the blanket under the tree by the patio. The air still smelled like charcoal and summer, and it was one of those damn perfect nights you never wanted to end.
“Be careful,” Rebecca said, reminding him of his injuries. There were scars on the left side of his abdomen now, but he’d been in rehab for two months and was finally cleared to return to active duty.
He had other wounds over the years, from other minor injuries.
Carrying her small frame in his arms was nothing.
“It’s healed,” Patrick said. “And nothing’s going to stop me from carrying you to bed.”
“We’re not in bed.”
He growled, gently laying her down on the blanket, hovering over her body as his arms caged her in. She was his. He stopped any further protests with a kiss and wanted to laugh at her worry. Hell. She’d noticed the stitches in his arm when they’d first met. He’d ducked from sniper fire and escaped roadside bombs before, jumped out of airplanes. Swam in choppy, dark waters.
Not that he could ever reveal all the details of his deployments to her.
The more recent scars he’d obtained from an IED had taken longer to heal from—but he was rearing to go now. Back on active duty and back to making love to his wife every night. His recovery had unintentionally aligned with her morning sickness—and now that they were both feeling better?
All bets were off.
“No one seemed surprised tonight when we told them I was pregnant,” Rebecca said, momentarily stopping their kisses. “Not everyone knew yet.”
Patrick gazed down at her, waiting for her to continue.
“I’m showing so early this time!”
“You look perfect,” he said.
“God, Brianna is several months further along than me, but I look so much bigger than her.”
“It’s her first baby,” Patrick said, lying beside her on the blanket, his head propped up with his hand. “You told me yourself women show earlier with subsequent pregnancies.”
“I know, I know.”
“And I already told you how perfect you are,” he said, letting his large hand rest atop her belly. He rubbed it gently, knowing it was too soon to feel any kicks, to feel anything. His gaze slid up.
“Pull down the straps on your dress,” he said gruffly.
Rebecca blushed, but slowly slid the spaghetti straps down her arms. He couldn’t wait to undress her himself, and he helped slide the straps down with calloused fingers.
He gently tugged the upper portion of her dress the rest of the way down, watching her swollen breasts spill over the top.
So fucking sexy.
Her nipples were rosy pink against the creaminess of her full breasts, like ripe strawberries just waiting for him to taste. Suck on. Lick again and again.
He ducked lower, burying his face in her breasts as she breathed in abruptly. Her sweet fragrance filled his nostrils, and he had to pause for a moment, thankful he was here. Alive. He could barely even recall the explosion that had rendered him unconscious, leaving shrapnel in his side. Didn’t remember his men dragging him onto the waiting Black Hawk. But when he’d woken up in a hospital in Landstuhl? All he could think of was her.
Coming home.
Finally making her his wife.
Rebecca’s hands went to his head, holding him there. He began kissing her breasts softly, reverently, loving the little whimpers she made. He softly kissed his way around one areola, enjoying the way his wife still squirmed at his touch. Gently, he laved his tongue across her rosy nipple, knowing how sensitive she’d been lately.
She moaned and arched up on the blanket, inadvertently pushing her breasts closer.
He sucked one nipple into his mouth, tonguing it lightly as she bucked up off the ground. Cried out softly. Her nails bit into his shortly cropped hair.
His cock grew uncomfortably hard, but this was about her now.
He slipped one hand beneath her sundress, letting his fingers trail up an inner thigh. Listening to her gasp as he fingered her through her panties. There was something erotic at having her lying topless on the blanket in their backyard, her dress in disarray, revealing her full breasts, as he sought her pleasure.
Rebecca was a buttoned-up divorce attorney during the week, but around him, she come undone.
And he fucking loved giving her pleasure.
He slid her panties down her silken legs, stuffing the lacy confection into his pocket. Rebecca would die of embarrassment if someone found them in their backyard. And there was something sexy as fuck about holding onto his wife’s lace panties.
Hell. He should bring them with him on his next mission.
He laved attention on her other breast, licking her pebbled nibble before lightly grazing it with his teeth.
“Patrick, please!” she gasped.
He sucked the taut bud into her mouth, leaving her writhing, before moving down her body, kissing her slightly swollen stomach. He could smell her arousal and wasted no time moving to her swollen folds. She tasted even sweeter now that she was pregnant, as if that was fucking possible.
And he damn well couldn’t get enough of lapping up all of her pleasure.
He spread her thighs wide, loving the feel of her smooth, feminine skin against his calloused fingers. She was fully open to him—Pink. Wet. Impossible to resist.
He tongued her gently, licking and sucking all her tender folds. She whimpered and lightly moved against him, so eager for more of his ministrations. One long, hard lick left her clutching the blanket in her fists, and he teased her clitoris with his tongue, watching her hips buck right up off the blanket.
His thick fingers gently penetrated her, loving the way her silken walls immediately clamped down around him. She was so damn tight, already strung so high. Moving his fingers in and out slowly, he again tongued her clit, finally sucking the bud between his lips.
Rebecca exploded, screaming as her arousal flooded her sex. He leisurely licked up all of her juices, knowing she was too sensitive now with pregnancy for him to suck on her clit any more. As she lay gasping in the blanket, he unzipped his pants, pulling his throbbing erection free. Gently he moved over her and pushed into her silken heat, meeting her heated gaze.
“Patrick, oh God, you feel so good—”
He growled in approval and held himself in place for a moment, gazing down at her, then lightly began to thrust. His thick erection easily slid through her arousal, and he felt her inner walls clamp down around him like a fist. Rebecca’s full breasts bounced with each thrust, her brown waves lifted slightly off the blanket in the gentle breeze, and her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at him.
He pushed her dress up slightly higher, bunching it around her hips. The fabric looked so damn fragile in his muscular hands. His gaze drifted lower, to where his aching cock penetrated her. She was so slick with need that he easily thrust in and out.
And hell.
His thick cock in her tight heat was better every dam
n time.
Her hands splayed across his chest as he held himself above her, and he wished he’d taken the time to undress so he could feel them on his bare flesh.
Later.
In the bedroom.
But now he needed her coming on his cock.
He bucked into her again, deeper, and she gasped as the base of his erection rubbed against her clit. He knew exactly how to give her the most pleasure, and he wasn’t above making her come again and again. All night long.
He continued pounding into her, enjoying every single gasp and cry emitted from her lips, not letting up until she was coming once more and crying out in ecstasy.
Her brown gaze found his as his balls tightened, and he exploded, spilling his seed deep inside her warm channel. Filling her completely.
She panted, breathless, on the blanket, and he rolled them onto their sides as he held her, still buried inside his wife.
Hell if he didn’t ever want to leave her again.
Chapter 18
REBECCA AWOKE WITH a start, Patrick tossing and turning beside her, the sheets twisted around him. He mumbled something in his sleep, thrashing around as a strong breeze blew in through the open bedroom window.
She sat up, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. 3:04 a.m.
“Patrick,” she said quietly, clutching his thick forearm as he rustled again.
“No,” he grit out in his sleep. “Look out!”
“Patrick!” she said more insistently. “Wake up!”
Patrick was sitting up in an instant, his eyes quickly scanning the darkened room as he held an arm out protectively in front of her. She clutched onto his muscled arm, feeling the tendons bulging from beneath his skin. He was pounds of solid muscle beneath tanned, toned flesh, the type of man who could intimidate anyone without a single word, but in the dark at this moment, he’d been the one frightened.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice gruff. “What’s wrong?”
“You were having a nightmare,” she whispered.
A clap of thunder sounded, causing her to jump, followed by the sound of heavy rain pounding down. It felt soothing, somehow, listening to the cleansing sound of the rain hitting the ground from inside their bedroom. Like they were safe in their own little cocoon while the outside world went on without them.
Literally sheltered from the storm.
“Hell,” he said, scrubbing a hand across his face. He took a deep breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he muttered. “Are you? You just jumped a foot in the air after that thunder.”
“I’m fine. I’m just worried about you. That’s the second time you’ve woken up this week.”
“No need to be worried,” he ground out. “Just a bad dream.”
The bed shifted as he stood up, the moonlight coming in from the window illuminating his solid, six-foot-three-inch frame. The light went on in their bathroom a moment later, and she heard water running from the sink.
Rebecca stood, suddenly feeling chilled in her strappy camisole and sleep shorts, and crossed the room to close the bedroom window before the rain got in. Ironically, she used to be the one with nightmares—originally after her first husband had been killed in an accident on the bridge from Virginia Beach to Norfolk. That long span of bridge and tunnels to get to Virginia Beach still gave her chills—but at least she no longer woke up with nightmares from it.
When she’d met Patrick, all those bad dreams had subsided. He’d swept into her life and unintentionally swept her right off her feet.
Even after the incident with her stalker. The hang-ups at her office. The car sitting on their street. The man Abby had spotted watching them in their front yard.
Her blood had run cold at the idea of someone harming her or her daughter.
But Patrick had been there for her.
Protected her and her daughter.
Caught the man intent on causing them harm.
And now?
She almost didn’t know what to do with him being the one up at night.
It had been gut-wrenching when the CO had called to let her know about Patrick’s injury. The world had gone in slow motion until she’d gotten word he was awake. That he’d be okay.
She blew out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding, then padded into the bathroom to find Patrick splashing cold water on his face. The lightweight cotton pajama bottoms he had on hung low from his trim waist, and the tanned, toned flesh of his upper torso was bare.
Hours of PT left him chiseled and sculpted, the envy of any man. But his jaw was clenched, his eyes filled with concern.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked softly. “You’ve been having nightmares ever since the accident.”
“I know,” he said, his voice gruff. “And I’m fine. It’s just part of the job.”
“Nightmares are part of the job?”
“Hell, sweetheart, I jump out of airplanes for a living. Shoot up the bad guys. It’s not like I’m going to dream of cotton candy and sunshine.”
Rebecca smiled despite herself, recalling their day at the beach a week ago with their two kids. Salty water, sand, the scorching hot sun—and plenty of cotton candy for the kids.
She walked up behind Patrick and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back. He was so tall, her head was right between his shoulder blades. She could feel the tension and stress rippling off of him—the tightness in his muscles. The stiffness of his posture.
He was a man that never showed any signs of weakness. Never flinched.
And he’d never admit if something was bothering him either.
She kissed him softly, her lips brushing against the warm skin on his back, and ran her hands over his shoulders and bulging biceps. She enjoyed the feeling of his skin over all those hardened muscles. Loved the feeling of his strength and warmth surrounding her.
He turned around, gazing down at her with those cool blue eyes as he let his hands rest on her waist.
“I’ll probably be deploying again soon.” He cocked his head slightly, assessing her. “The CO mentioned he’ll have significant updates for us on Monday morning.”
“I figured—nature of the job, right? I can’t say I’ll ever like having you gone, but I’m used to it by now. Sort of.”
Patrick smirked, his eyes warming as he looked down at her. He raised one large hand to her face, letting his fingertips caress her cheek as his thumb grazed over her lips.
Butterflies fluttered inside her—the same feeling she got whenever Patrick touched her. Kissed her. Caressed her. This touch was more comforting than sexual though. Loving. He let his hands fall to his sides.
“It’ll be good for me to get back to work after the accident—to get back into a routine and training. Sitting around the house isn’t helping me improve.”
“I know for a fact that all the physical therapy you were doing was hardly ‘sitting around,’” she said with a wry smile. “I was tired just hearing about all the grueling exercises you had.”
“Let’s not forget the extra work my sister dreamed up,” he said with a chuckle.
“She’s just doing her job—literally.”
“She’s tougher than some of those Navy docs. The timing of my going back is crappy though. We never even got to take a honeymoon,” Patrick said, his voice gruff. “I was hoping I wouldn’t be in recovery for so long.”
“Well, we weren’t exactly planning on a wedding this summer. Or a baby. In a way, your accident kind of hurried things along.”
“The baby was already on the way,” he said, looking rather proud of himself as his eyes glinted with amusement.
“That he or she was—I still think it’s a little girl.”
“Then she won’t be allowed to date until she’s thirty—at least. Abby either.”
Rebecca laughed. “I don’t think anyone will be brave enough to ever ask Abby out with you around. Thankfully we have years and years before we need to worry about
that.”
“Thank God for small miracles. But I don’t want you to worry, because nothing’s going to happen to me. Nothing else,” he amended. “Hell, half the guys on the team have been injured before.”
“And out of commission for two months?”
“Evan was. And the other guys have had injuries, too. We’re the best at what we do. So yes, maybe my injury this summer sped up the timeline a bit.”
“You think?” she asked, pointedly looking at the wedding ring on his hand.
Patrick smirked. “I can’t complain. We could’ve waited if you wanted a big, fancy wedding.”
Rebecca looked up at him. “Our wedding was absolutely perfect—you, me, the kids, the beach. I never would’ve wanted anything else.”
“Me either. I love you,” he said, his voice gruff.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
His large hand came to a rest on her belly, a look of male pride crossing his face. “I still can’t believe my child is growing inside you.”
“Believe it—I was throwing up for weeks and weeks.”
“I know—and I hated there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to fix it.”
“Spoken like a typical man.”
“Typical?” he asked, cocking a brow.
“Not so typical,” she rephrased, yawning despite herself. “But men always want to solve problems, right? Especially Navy SEALs intent on getting their own way.”
“I have been known to be rather persuasive,” he agreed. He glanced at the small clock on the bathroom counter. “Hell, it’s after three in the morning. Let’s get back to bed.”
“No more nightmares?”
“No more nightmares. Besides, I’ve got you to scare them off for me.”
Her cheeks warmed, thinking of how ridiculous that sounded. Like a big, tough Navy SEAL needed anyone to scare off anything for him. “I’ll do my best,” she said lightly.
“Maybe you could provide me a bit of a distraction,” he suggested, heat in his eyes.
Her eyes slid over his broad pectorals, wide shoulders, and muscular arms. Patrick ducked down, his lips meeting hers in a kiss, and then he was easily lifting her into his arms. Holding her against his solid, muscular chest. Carrying her to bed.
Married to a SEAL Page 14