“My point? You want my point?”
His voice drops dangerously low as he walks around my desk and spins my chair around so I’m facing him, and for the first time since he showed up in my office I notice the duffel bag slung over his shoulder and watch as he reaches for it and dumps it on my lap.
“Nobody makes a play on the woman that rides on the back of my bike,” he growls.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means change your clothes, pretty girl, we’re going for a ride.”
Well, that shut me up.
-Nineteen-
Stryker
Rendering her speechless is quickly becoming my favorite pastime. Watching as her green eyes go wide and those pouty lips smack shut makes my dick go hard every fucking time. Add the way she feels wrapped around me as we ride along the Belt Parkway and I’m ready to pull over on the shoulder and fuck her senseless on the side of the road for all to see.
Having her at my mercy, clinging to me with her breath against my ear and the wind against our faces, it’s the medicine I need to heal me. After walking in on the exchange between Gina and her boss and being two seconds away from whipping out my dick and pissing all over my territory, I needed this. I needed something to put my ass in check because acting like a barbarian won’t get me anywhere with my pretty girl. She isn’t the girl you nail down, she’s the one you watch fly, and if you’re lucky, you’re the bastard who gets to spread your wings alongside her.
I’m in no position to be thinking like that.
To be thinking I can keep her.
To be thinking she’s mine.
Her grip tightens as we ride over the Verrazano Bridge and I lift a hand off the throttle to touch her hand on my chest before I turn my head slightly and call to her over my shoulder.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl.”
She loosens her hold on me as we ease through the tollbooth and I veer to the right, off the first exit on the Staten Island Expressway. Five minutes later we pull into a parking lot and I help her off my bike, hanging the helmet I bought her off the handlebars. The scent of saltwater washes over us and I watch as she runs her fingers through her hair trying to tame it. She turns toward the boardwalk and I stare at her profile for a moment before her gaze finds its way back to mine.
“Didn’t I tell you I thought long walks along the beach were overrated?” she teases, but her eyes give her away as does the smile on her pretty face.
And then there’s that smile.
I’m growing fond of that too.
Real fucking fond.
She takes my hand and starts for the wooden ramp leading to the boardwalk and I’m treated to another thing of hers that I’m fucking fixed on, her ass. Images of my fingers digging into those globes as I pull her G-string down with my teeth flashes in front of my eyes and my dick twitches begging me to pull her under the boardwalk and sink into that cunt of hers.
Fucking hell.
“Hello? Earth to Stryker,” she says, interrupting my thoughts and I look back at her blinking as I try my hardest to play it off like I was listening to her the whole time.
“You lied to me,” she accuses as we walk the length of the boardwalk, the Verrazano Bridge hanging as a backdrop behind us.
“I don’t lie,” I tell her.
“You said you didn’t like sand,” she adds, pointing to her left where miles of sand lay just a few steps away.
“That wasn’t a lie. I’ve seen enough of that shit, had enough of it in my eyes to last me a fucking lifetime,” I confess, stilling beside her. “But I like seeing you smile and I haven’t gotten enough of that yet.”
“Easy, Romeo…a girl can only handle so much,” she whispers.
“Yeah…then what happens?”
“You’re not ready for that yet,” she says softly.
“You are?”
“We’re getting too deep,” she insists, tugging on my hand. “Time to switch it up.”
I follow her until our steps are in sync and we’re walking in an uncomfortable silence, trying to bounce back from the twist our words took and the path they put us on.
“Five facts,” she finally says. “You owe me five facts.”
“I’m all caught up, sweetheart,” I argue.
“No, I gave you five facts the night you showed up at my door.”
“I gave you five right back when I told your brother to ditch the guard.”
“Oh, you think you’re slick like that, huh?” she asks as she releases my hand and rolls up the sleeves of the sweater I found in her closet. Red really looks good on her.
“Fine, you want five more? I’ll give you five more but you first.”
“Wimp,” she says, sticking out her tongue playfully.
A groan escapes my mouth as I reach down and press my palm against my cock to alleviate the agony her mouth is wreaking on me. What makes me even more fucking attracted to her is the way she doesn’t even try to be sexy, how it comes so naturally with everything she does.
“Okay, here it goes,” she starts, holding out her thumb. “I was majorly turned on by the way you came into my office today. You almost got head under my desk.”
“You’re killing me,” I ground out.
“Two,” She continues and smiles, adding her index finger, “If you play your cards right, I’ll take you under the boardwalk and give it to you anyway. Three, I don’t remember the last date I went on. Four, I’m considering trading my heels for riding boots and buying myself a Harley because that was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Five, I miss my mom because she’s the first person I wish I could call to tell her about this guy I met.” She pauses, glancing at the ocean before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and turning her soft gaze back to me. “So much for trying to switch it up. Does it get any deeper than admitting you miss your mother?” She forces a smile as I reach out and run the back of my hand against her cheek.
“Was she sick?”
“Cancer,” she reveals, leaning into my side. “I’ve been thinking of her more lately. I think it’s because Rocco is around and I know how much she’d hate how we treat one another.”
It was hard not to notice the turmoil between her and Rocco. What I took as entertainment, clearly was hurting Gina.
“I feel like I failed her,” she confesses as I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “She wouldn’t like how isolated I’ve allowed myself to become even though she did the same thing after my father died.”
“Isolated from everyone or someone in particular?”
“Well, I’m not a hermit or anything like that, but aside from the cousin you sort of met that night at the taco place, I don’t speak to any of my family.”
“So you’re not close with your uncle Vic or his daughters, your cousins?”
“No, I haven’t seen them in years,” she says with a frown. “There were so many times I should’ve probably reached out to them, starting when Adrianna had her first baby, but I didn’t. I didn’t so much as send a gift, nothing,” she mutters.
“You could reach out now,” I suggest, leading her over to a bench facing the ocean. “They’d probably appreciate it after everything they’ve been through.”
“You mean the bomb,” she replies, turning to me. “Do you know them?”
“Not well.”
“How crazy is that?”
What’s crazier is I broke her cousin’s wrist and lived to tell about it, that’s fucking crazy. I don’t confess to my malice and instead I give her five facts, five truthful facts I’ve told no one else.
“One, I miss my mother too. Not like you, she’s still alive and well. At least I hope she is…I haven’t seen her in years. Two, becoming a Marine was the proudest moment of my life. Three, war is ugly as hell and being a Marine ruined me. Four, I lost my men on a mission when I probably could’ve saved them. Five, I attended all their funerals and after each funeral I held a loaded gun to my head. I tried to take my own life. I told myself I didn’t deserve
to live…that it should’ve been me not them. Even now, I still believe it should’ve been me and not them. They had families, people who needed them to come home alive while I had nothing, have nothing.”
My voice trails off as my own words shock me. It’s one thing to stare at yourself in the mirror, pointing a gun to your head, but it’s something different admitting you’ve tried to kill yourself and failed several times.
Saying the words makes it real.
It’s admitting I’m plagued by war.
It’s admitting that terrorism won.
It’s admitting I’m not a hero.
Gathering my courage, I turn to Gina and watch as tears roll down her cheeks.
“Shit,” I hiss, reaching out for her, taking her face in my hands as I wipe away her tears with my thumbs.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
She shakes her head and reaches for my face.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re the one who deserves an apology, an apology from every single person who has never thanked you for what you’ve done, for what you’ve sacrificed for your country,” she whispers, leaning her forehead against mine. “You’re a hero.”
I was wrong.
It’s not the color of her eyes that has me spinning in circles.
It is what’s reflected in them.
It’s all the good left in the world shining back at me.
It’s the hope I’ve lost.
The shit I don’t deserve.
“No, I’m not. I haven’t saved a single person.”
“You’ve saved thousands, millions, every single day you fought for their freedom. Thank you,” she whispers.
It’s her turn to render me speechless, and because I can’t formulate a sentence worth speaking, I lean down and brush my lips over hers, taking the goodness left in a world that’s in ruins.
The goodness that is Gina.
My pretty girl with the green eyes.
Her lips part, inviting me to take more, to forget the world I’ve tried to escape and steal a sliver of peace. Slipping my tongue inside her mouth, I lose myself and drown in her. Her taste, so fucking sweet, it ignites a fire inside me. Who knew burning could feel so good.
I pull away, groaning as I draw in a deep breath and watch her eyes flutter open and peer back at me.
“You’re beautiful,” I say huskily.
“You don’t have to try any harder, soldier,” she laughs, but it’s not the laugh I’m used to it’s one that’s laced with nerves neither of us expected to have.
It’s that lightning.
It’s fierce.
And it’s bigger than either of us know.
“You’ve got me,” she whispers.
“Yeah, I do,” I agree, dropping my hands from her face and lacing my fingers through hers as I bring our hands to my lap. “Well, as first dates go I’d say this one was a failure,” I announce, nodding toward her face stained with dried tears. “Who makes the girl cry on the first date?”
“I didn’t know this was a date,” she grins.
“It will be after I buy you a slice of pizza and you make good on that promise of a blow job,” I tease and wink at her.
Alive.
Watching her as she throws her head back and laughs up at the dark sky, I feel alive.
I’m sporting a grin as proof.
“This is the best date I’ve ever been on,” she admits as she cocks her head to the side and stares back at me. “First, last, and everything in-between—the best one.”
“Is that a fact, pretty girl?”
“It most certainly is,” she promises, reaching out to pinch my cheek. “Now feed me.”
Oh, I’ll feed you pretty girl.
-Twenty-
Gina
My mother told me it would happen. She said I’d kiss my share of toads but one day a man would come into my life and knock the socks off me. She predicted that the man would likely differ from all the ones that came before him, swearing he’d stand in a class of his own.
My mother was right.
She was always right.
He came dressed in cargos and leather, with a broken soul and a smile that the world doesn’t get to see that often, and he knocked me off my five-inch heels.
My mother never told me what would happen after I found him and I’ve never been good at flying without a plan.
But my mother encouraged me to always go after what I want. She taught me never to be afraid of the unknown because sometimes there’s a beautiful surprise waiting for you. She loved surprises and I’m learning I might love them too.
Stryker’s arms wrap around my waist as I open the door to my apartment and his mouth instantly goes to my neck, kissing the spot right below my ear. As we walk inside, he kicks the door closed and spins me around in his arms before he cups my chin with one hand.
“Let me look at you,” he growls, as I drop my keys onto the floor and he stares at me.
“You’ve been looking at me all night,” I whisper, reaching up to move his hand from my chin. “In fact, you’ve been outright staring at me like I’m going to disappear.”
I lace my fingers with his and pull him further inside until he’s standing in front of the couch, I push him down onto it.
“It’s my turn,” I declare, shrugging my jacket off my shoulders before chucking it to the side. “You got a problem with that?”
He spreads his arms across the back of the couch, sinking deeper into the cushions as he spreads his legs and shakes his head.
“Do you, pretty girl,” Stryker dares as I pull my shirt over my head before planting my left foot on his lap.
“Will you help me?”
Casually, he reaches out with one hand and tugs the zipper of my boot down then pulls it off and pats his lap, waiting for me to lift my other leg to remove my other boot.
“I think I’ll keep you,” I tease, tucking my thumbs into the waistband of my leggings and shimmy them down my legs, stripping until I’m standing between his legs in nothing but my underwear.
“Doesn’t take much to please you,” he mutters as his eyes travel the length of my body.
“You do a good enough job,” I purr as I grip his thighs and slide down onto my knees.
“I suck as a bodyguard,” he comments as my hands glide over his muscular thighs to the button of his cargo pants. “I should be teaching you how to rely on your senses, but instead—”
“Instead, you’re going to sit back and let me give you the best blow job of your life,” I interrupt, popping open the button.
“The best,” he repeats.
“The best,” I confirm, dragging down his zipper.
He lifts his hips, allowing me to pull his pants and boxers down to his boots. I unlace his work boots and he kicks them off before helping me free him of his pants. Kneeling between his legs I stare at his massive cock already hard against his stomach. His hand closes around his shaft and he slowly strokes it while temporarily immobilizing me with his feral gaze.
Snapping out of it, I lean forward licking my lips and shove his hand out of my way. I take his girth in my hand before rubbing my thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.
“Hmm, where should I start?” I ask myself out loud, not expecting an answer—not wanting one. I’m in charge now. It’s time for him to give me what I need, and that’s him completely undone. Bending my head, I open my mouth and press my tongue against the underside of his cock, slowly licking him until I reach his head. I close my mouth around him tightly sucking on the tip and I hear him sharply inhale.
Lifting my gaze, I stare up at him through my eyelashes and watch as his eyes become hooded, but he fights to keep them open and on me. Not breaking eye contact, I take him deeper and deeper until his engorged head touches the back of my throat.
My eyes water and I slowly drag his cock from my mouth, swirling my tongue around as I do. Taking a breath, I pump him with my hand, angling him as I bend my head and take one of his balls into my mou
th. Again, my tongue goes to work before I suck on it and release it so I can do the same to its mate.
“Christ,” he gasps, reaching for my hair. His fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer until I feel the bruising on my head and I release his other sac. He fists my hair, guides my open mouth to his cock and arches his hips off the couch as he fills me.
I slap his thighs, pushing him back down and take back control, slowly sucking on him when I know he wants it fast. But the faster I go, the sooner it’ll be over and I haven’t had my fill of him just yet. I bring my hand to his balls, take time to massage them before I press my thumb to the sensitive skin between them and I feel the pre-come squirt against the back of my throat.
I swallow.
He curses.
I suck harder.
Give it to him faster.
Just the way he wants it.
“Gina,” he hisses his warning.
I wrap my lips even tighter around him and give him my eyes.
I’ve got you.
His dick spasms in my mouth as the bitter taste of his hot release fills my mouth and slides down my throat. Everything he gives I take until there is nothing left inside of him, and then, only then, do I pull my mouth back and take a deep breath.
“Get over here,” he orders breathlessly.
My legs are stiff as I stand and I fall into his lap, into his waiting hands that grip my waist as he leans forward and covers my mouth with his. I relax in his arms, into his kiss as I wind my arms around his neck. It’s a moment of intimacy and the exact moment I realize my guard is down and my heart is free for the taking.
Take it.
Just don’t break it.
Opening my eyes, I break the kiss and find him staring back at me.
“Sleep with me,” I whisper.
He opens his mouth but I place my finger to his lips, already knowing what he’s about to say, already knowing it’s not enough for me.
“Not in the chair or on the couch. With me. In my bed. You’ve only fallen asleep in my bed once and you were up and out of it before the sun came up. I want to wake up with you next to me.”
The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition Page 16