“It’ll fit,” he promises.
I suck in a breath.
Yeah, right.
“You sound sure.”
“I am,” he confirms, raining kisses down my neck. “Every part of me was created to fit with every part of you.”
It’s hard to argue that point and so instead, I lift my head from the pillow and press my lips to his.
Fear and doubt don’t exist where there’s trust.
Then I feel him.
Right there.
Nudging his way deep inside me.
I gasp against his mouth, but his tongue quickly distracts me as it tangles with mine. I taste the hint of my arousal on his tongue and I groan at how wildly erotic I find that. He goes deeper and my fingernails dig into his shoulder as a burst of pain sears through me. Tears sting my eyes and I almost ask him to stop, but his lips find my ear.
“I’m in. All you gotta do is breathe,” he whispers, taking my earlobe between his lips. My grip loosens and I exhale, getting used to the fullness. The pain fades, and he eases out. My back arches off the mattress and he pushes back in a little quicker this time. With every stroke, my body stretches to accommodate him and soon he’s gliding in and out of me.
He turns to face me and his blue eyes meld with mine.
I may be the hurricane in this story, but there is a storm raging inside Eric too.
A wild and powerful storm.
“Come for me, my pretty little hurricane,” he pants, pushing even deeper. Using one hand to grip the back of the pull-out, he lowers the other between us. His fingers find my clit and it’s all over for me. Another orgasm rips through my body. It holds me hostage, claiming every nerve, and I cry out his name.
I lose his eyes as he starts to move quicker. Pleasure fills every inch of his face and I catalog the strain of his features to memory. On the nights I miss him most, I’ll remember him this way.
Beautiful. Raw. Mine.
My first.
My last.
My everything.
My soldier boy.
Twenty-Two
Eric
Ten more minutes.
That’s what I tell myself as I silence the annoying alarm on my phone. I toss it on top of the end table, next to the three empty condom wrappers, and turn to face the sleeping beauty next to me. I reach for her thigh, pulling it over me just like I did before we fell asleep last night, and she follows the same script by draping her arm across my chest and burying her face in the crook of my arm. It's like we’ve been doing this our whole lives.
Content, I close my eyes and Stryker’s words ring loud in my ear.
A true soldier doesn’t fight because he hates what is in front of him, he fights because he loves what’s behind him.
In my case, I’m not fighting for what’s behind me, but rather what’s in my arms. I suppose it’s moments like this that drive men like me to lace up their boots.
Brooklyn presses her lips to my chest, and I open my eyes. Lifting her chin, she smiles lazily at me.
“Morning,” she murmurs softly.
Yeah, it’s moments like this.
I lift my head from the pillow and guide her lips to mine. I’m about to kiss her and show her just how fucking good of a morning it really is when she pulls away and covers her mouth.
“I didn’t brush my teeth yet,” she argues.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I suppress a chuckle.
“I think we’re well past that stage,” I tell her, sliding my hand up her thigh. “I’m more concerned with why you put your pajamas back on.”
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Well, what if your parents came down while we were sleeping?”
“If my parents don’t know what happened here last night, they’re deaf.” Confusion mars her pretty features. “Brook, baby, you weren’t exactly quiet last night,” I explain.
That shade of pink I’ve come to love flushes across her cheeks, and she swats my chest.
“I’m kidding.”
Not really.
She was loud, and it was fucking awesome.
Rolling her eyes, she reaches for my phone and her perky little tits taunt me through the fabric of her tank top. I almost cried last night when she insisted on putting her clothes back on.
Again, joking.
But waking up to a naked Brooklyn is high on my list of priorities. I just have to buy a deadbolt for the door, so she doesn’t worry about my parents finding her in my bed.
Anyway, back to those tits.
I pull the neckline away from her skin and peek down her shirt, mentally weighing if we have enough time for me to give the girls a little lovin’.
“Shit, I need to go before your dad starts his yoga routine and catches me sneaking up the stairs again.”
I pinch her nipple. Surely, we have at least five minutes before the big bad tiger morphs into a yogi. She swats my hand away and rights her shirt. I frown as she starts to scramble off the bed. The morning was looking so promising…damn my father and his fucking tranquility nonsense.
“Wait,” I call as she tiptoes toward the door. I’m not sure why she’s doing that, but it’s cute as fuck. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
She spins around, her eyebrows drawn close.
“Get back here,” I order, pointing a finger to my lips. “I don’t give a shit if you brushed your teeth or not, I want a kiss.”
She rolls her eyes again, but when her feet start moving, I grin back at her. Grabbing her hand as she leans down to peck my cheek, I pull her on top of me and bring both hands to her face, crashing my mouth over hers. She immediately goes soft in my arms and wraps her fingers around my wrists, holding me as she angles her head and parts her lips. A moan sounds from the back of her throat and I swallow it up as my tongue slides in and mimics all the dirty things I did to her last night.
The first time was a little rough on her, but by the third time she got the hang of it, and her tight little pussy got used to the feel of my cock. When I said every part of me was created to fit with every part of her, I wasn’t kidding.
God knew what he was doing.
I might go to church and thank him.
She deepens the kiss, and it’s confirmed, Sunday me and the big guy in the sky have a date. I grab her ass and pull her down so that she’s straddling me. Flicking her tongue with mine, I thrust upward and press my morning wood between her legs.
Fuck the clock.
I say we skip school, lock the door and fuck all day.
“Ewwwwww!”
Funny…that high-pitched voice sounds a lot like my sister.
Imagine that.
Suddenly, I’m thrusting my hard on in the air because Brooklyn jumps off of me. My eyes shoot open and sure as shit, my little sister is right fucking there watching me hump nothing.
“Eric and Brooklyn sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage,” Bella sings.
I pull the comforter over me to hide the tent I’m fucking pitching, and I glance at Brooklyn who looks like she might actually die.
Christ.
“What are you doing in here?” I hiss, looking back at my sister. The song dies on her lips as her eyes move to my crotch.
Dying isn’t a terrible idea, seeing as the comforter isn’t doing shit to hide the state of my cock. I grab a pillow and then another. I pile them high until there is a fortress of feathers on my fucking lap.
There.
All better.
No hard on in sight.
“AHHHHH!!”
“Oh my God, why is she screaming?” Brooklyn panics.
“Fuck if I know,” I shout over Bella.
I’m still trying to figure out why the fuck she’s in my room, never mind why she’s screaming her head off.
“What the hell is going on in here!?”
I take it back.
God hates me.
“Oh, Daddy, thank
God!” Bella runs to him. “There’s a snake in Eric’s shorts! Kill it!”
Yeah, I’m so not going to church on Sunday.
You know things are bad when it’s six-thirty in the morning and your mother is fixing herself a mimosa. Let’s not talk about my dad, who is staring at his reflection in the kitchen window, counting the gray hairs. Then there’s Brooklyn—who is red as a tomato and refuses to look me in the eye. I’m not really understanding why she’s so embarrassed, it’s not like she’s the one who got caught with a fucking snake in her pants.
Oh, maybe that’s it.
She’s probably upset we were interrupted before she had a chance to wrangle the snake.
The day is young, though. There’s plenty of time for her to channel her inner Jack Hannah.
“There are three more than yesterday!” Dad roars from the window.
“You must’ve miscounted,” my mom says as she sits across from me and Brooklyn. I watch her take a long gulp of her cocktail. It’s five o’clock somewhere. She sets the red solo cup down and fixes her cold blue eyes on me.
Yikes!
Guess I’m not the favorite anymore.
“You look extra pretty this morning,” I tell her with a wink. “Did you do something with your hair?” It’s sticking up all over the place, but who doesn’t love a compliment every once in a while.
She opens and closes her mouth. I smile wider and she does it again, this time pointing a finger at me. Still no words. Silence is a good thing, some people even consider it golden. Then she reaches into her shirt and pulls three crumbled condom wrappers from her bra and tosses them up in the air like confetti. Oddly enough, she resembles that salt guy—you know the dude with the shades that sprinkles the salt like a boss. Him!
“Oh my God,” Brooklyn cries, tossing her head in her hands.
No need to call on him, he isn’t on our side.
“Explain,” my mom orders.
I raise an eyebrow. It seems like an odd request considering she birthed four kids, but maybe she needs a refresher course…Bella is seven.
“Alright, well, you know, we started kissing and then I took her shirt—”
Brooklyn jumps out of her chair and smacks her hand over my mouth.
“Are you crazy?” she hisses as I pull her hand away.
“She asked me to explain,” I defend.
“That’s not what she meant,” Brooklyn argues.
“I’m fully aware of the mechanics,” my mom clarifies, and I cringe.
“Yeah, I didn’t need to know that.”
“You mean like your little sister didn’t need to know about the snake in your shorts?” she volleys.
“Are you trying to put us in an early grave because we don’t have life insurance?” She flinches at her words and turns to Brooklyn, an apologetic expression on her face. “I’m sorry, that was callous of me.”
Frustrated, she pushes her fingers through the nest on top of her head and closes her eyes.
“Namaste, Kitten,” dad chants from across the kitchen. “Deep breaths.”
Her eyes spring open and her gaze settles on me. However, she doesn’t look like she wants to kill me anymore. I guess Yogi is onto something.
“I’m struggling, here, Eric. First, you spring this Army thing on us, and not twelve hours later I’m calming your sister down, telling her you weren’t actually being attacked by a reptile.” She sighs and glances at the wrappers decorating the table. “I’m glad you have enough sense to make sure you are both safe, but it’s a lot for me to digest.”
“It’s fucking crazy is what it is,” Dad interjects.
Is this guy for real? What happened to the no glove, no love speech? He should be giving me a pound right now.
“You gave me the condoms,” I point out.
“I gave you a toy motorcycle once too, but I don’t see you riding that.”
“Riggs,” Mom hisses.
“Fine, I’ll shut up.”
Just when you start to lose your faith…a miracle!
“Eric,” my mom calls, forcing my eyes back to her. When I see the tears in her eyes, I straighten in my chair. If there is one sight I can’t bear to watch, it’s seeing my mom cry. Especially when I’m the reason. I’m a total mama’s boy and I’m not ashamed to say it. But I’m guessing you know that already.
“I need you to slow down a little bit so I can catch up,” she pleads, her voice crackling. “I look at you and even though you tower over me, I still see a little boy, one who is suddenly making a whole lot of life-altering decisions without even consulting me. You used to ask me to play video games with you, now you’re joining the Army and leaving condom wrappers on your nightstand. It’s a lot.” She wipes her tears and looks between me and Brooklyn. “I promised your mom I’d take care of you, that I’d take a baseball bat to any boy who hurt you.”
Whoa.
So that story about the baseball bat is true.
Good to know.
“I really don’t want to have to take a bat to my son, so someone is going to have to make me understand what is happening here. Are you together or just having fun?”
Even though Brooklyn wants to kill me right now, I still grab her hand and lace our fingers together.
We’re together and we had a shit ton of fun last night—I leave the latter out.
“We’re together,” I confirm.
“Can I say something?” Dad asks.
“No,” Mom snaps, glancing over her shoulder. “This one is on me.” She turns her focus back to us. “Okay, so you’re together. Wonderful.”
Glad we agree.
“How does that work with your decision to join the Army?” She glances at Brooklyn. “Do you plan on staying together? Do you have any idea what that will entail?”
“Yes,” Brooklyn replies quickly. “We spoke a lot last night.”
“Oh, there was time for talking?” Dad snarls, glaring directly at me. “Impressive.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“Wanna give me a pound?”
“Think you’ve had enough of that, no?” he retorts.
I roll my eyes and drag my eyes back to my mom.
“If you’re going to try to use what me and Brooklyn have to sway me away from enlisting, don’t waste your time.”
Mom folds her hands on top of the table and pins me with a stare. After a moment, she shakes her head, and every conflicted feature begins to soften.
“I’m not looking to sway you any which way, Eric. I’ve done things with my own life that I regret, things I did to please my mom. Your Uncle Anthony was…well, you know, you call him Uncle Gangster for a reason. He broke our mother’s heart, and every night I’d listen to her cry and pray for him. When it came time for me to graduate high school, I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to dry her tears, and I thought if I just followed the plan she had made for me, I’d be able to do that. Being a nurse was never my dream, Eric, it was your grandma’s and when I dropped out of nursing school, I swore if I ever had children of my own, I wouldn’t discourage them from following their dreams.”
She pauses and I follow her gaze to mine and Brooklyn’s joined hands. Smiling faintly, she takes my other hand and lifts her eyes back to mine.
“I listened to you last night. I saw the passion in your eyes when you told us you wanted to join the Army and it terrified me.” A tear slides from the corner of her eye as she forces a swallow. “It still terrifies me, but if that’s what you want for your future, your father and I will not stand in your way. We support you, Eric.”
“Really?” I ask hoarsely.
“Always.”
I look from her to my dad, watching as he crosses his arms and diverts his attention to his feet.
“Dad?
He lifts his chin, and his bloodshot eyes bore into mine.
Shut the front door…are those tears. No fucking way.
“You better learn how to fucking piss straight,” he rasps.
It’s not the answer I was lo
oking for, but the look on his face is all the confirmation I need.
They support me, they fucking support me.
Brooklyn chuckles next to me, diverting my dad’s eyes to her, and I watch him wink at her.
“Last night you said maybe you’d make us proud,” Mom starts and squeezes my hand. “Eric, you drive us crazy and your father is getting grayer by the day, but we are already so very proud of you. You know, no one raises their child to be a hero, but when he volunteers to become one…” Her voice trails as more tears fall down her cheeks. She doesn’t have to finish that sentence because it’s written in her eyes.
I release her hand, kiss Brook’s before letting go of hers too, and then I’m on my feet, stepping around the table that separates me and my mom. She lifts her head and I pull her out of her chair. I wrap my arms around her and hug her with all my might.
I told you…I’m a mama’s boy.
Forever.
Til the day I die.
“I love you,” I say, kissing the top of her head. I lift my eyes and watch my dad cross the room. He wraps his arms around Brook.
“I’m feeling neglected,” he says.
It’s a lie.
He hugs her because she’s got tears in her eyes. He hugs her because she just lost her mom and seeing me with mine makes her miss Joss even more. He hugs her because she’s part of this crazy family now. He hugs her and as his eyes find me, he silently vows to always be there for her.
You know, like when I’m off fighting the bad guys and doing hero shit.
Pulling away, my mom lifts her hand to my cheek and forces my eyes back to hers.
“I want to meet with your recruiter,” she says. “I have questions.”
“Eric can answer all your questions,” Brooklyn supplies. “He answered all of mine last night.” She looks at me and raises her hand to her forehead, saluting me. I grin at her before turning back to my mom.
“She’s right, you know, I’ll tell you everything. I’ve been wanting to for a long time.”
“After dinner tonight, then.”
“It’s a date,” I say, giving her cheek a peck.
“And one more thing,” Mom says, glancing between me and Brook. “We’re going to have to set some ground rules for this relationship of yours. I’m too young to be a grandma, and I never want to talk about a snake in my son’s pants again.”
Fight Or Flight (Tempted Series Generation 2.0) Page 18