My Hot Valentine

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My Hot Valentine Page 5

by Mia Madison


  “Yes, I think I’ll need it.”

  Suddenly a look of concern comes over Ward’s face. “He won’t hit you, will he? If you think there’s any danger of that…”

  “No, don’t worry. He wouldn’t do that.”

  Ward kisses me gently on the lips. “I’m on the end of a phone for the next hour or so if you need me to come back. And even after that, call me. I can sort something out with the guys at the station.”

  “I’m hoping to calm things down, not get them riled up again. But thank you.”

  “And if I ever say my place or yours for any kind of get together when Martin is around, please choose mine,” he says.

  “You can bet on it.” I laugh, happy there’ll be a next time, despite all this hassle.

  Ward leaves and I go back to face the music.

  “Do you know how old he is?” Martin says. He’s obviously been raking things through in his mind, trying to justify his behavior. “He’s my age. Eleven years older than you.”

  “That’s nothing. It doesn’t matter to me, so why would it matter to you? You’re the same age as him. It’s not like either of you will be collecting your old age pension any time soon.”

  “If I let him live that long.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “No, it’s you who’s being ridiculous, thinking there’s anything in this but sex. Are you grabbing what you can while it’s available?”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

  “Well, why wouldn’t I say it? It’s the truth. Look at you. No man is going to look at you.”

  He knows just how to crush me with words, but I’m not putting up with this.

  “Ward doesn’t think so. He seems to like looking at me just fine. And I’ve been out on plenty of dates.”

  “Which led nowhere. I don’t exactly see them lining up outside the door.”

  “I have my share. Anyway, most guys are not worth the time of day.”

  “And neither is Ward.”

  “That’s your opinion. Some friend you are.”

  “I haven’t seen him for years. I owe him nothing. He couldn’t be bothered to stay in touch.”

  “And neither did you. You were both off doing your own thing. You can’t hold that against him when you did exactly the same.”

  “Oh, just forget I said anything, then. But don’t come crawling to me when he gets what he wants and then can’t run away fast enough.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “And don’t expect me to hang around to watch you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to London. I’ll go back to my unit from there.”

  “I thought you were just going to visit for a few days, not your whole leave.”

  “I can’t stand by watching you get hurt.”

  “Don’t do this, making me choose. I don’t think I’m making a mistake, but even if I am, you can’t protect me from every wrong decision I might make. You’re not even here most of the time.”

  “But when I am, you can’t expect me not to react.”

  I think he can see how upset I am, because eventually he says, “Okay then, I’ll give you a week for this to run its course. But when he disappears and I get back, I don’t want to hear about it.”

  “When are you going?”

  “Tomorrow, early train.”

  There’s something he’s not telling me about this. “Who are you going to stay with? Someone from the army?”

  He shifts about in his seat. “Girl I met on the way home last leave. And Ben, if it doesn’t work out.”

  “You planned to go there tomorrow all along, didn’t you? You just had to find some excuse.”

  “It’s not like that. I did intend to visit her, just not so soon.”

  “But she already knows you’re coming? Don’t tell me you’re just going to land on her doorstep unannounced.”

  “No, she knows.” He has the grace to look shamefaced. This is not about me and Ward at all. This is about what he wants to do with his leave, and it’s not to stay with his little sister.

  I can’t say I blame him, exactly. It’s just the hypocrisy that gets me. “So she wasn’t available to stay with on your way here?”

  “No, she was at a convention for work. She just got back.”

  “If she winds you around her little finger and sends you packing, don’t come crying to me.”

  I flounce off to bed. I could seriously fall out with my brother if I stick around. And then I’d have no one.

  CHAPTER 20

  Ward

  I get a text from Alyssa a few minutes after I reach home. “Martin is going to London tomorrow. He says he’ll be away for a week.”

  I call her back. “What’s that about? Are you okay?”

  “Yes. We had words. But it’s okay. He says it will all burn out between you and me by the time he’s home—you’ll get what you want and that will be that.”

  “You know he’s talking about what I used to be like, don’t you? He doesn’t know me now.”

  “I don’t know you now either.”

  “It’s true, we don’t know each other well, but we can change that, given time. How about we start again tomorrow? I can’t wait to get to know you better in all kinds of ways.”

  “Yes,” she says.

  And the rasp in her voice as she says it makes me think of how she came undone on my tongue, and on my fingers, and my cock swells at the image of her in my mind.

  “I’m sorry Martin came back when he did,” she says. Is she remembering the moment before we were interrupted?

  “I’m sorry, too. Are you alone right now?”

  “Yes,” she says. “I’m in my room. Martin has gone to pack.”

  “Do something for me.”

  “What?” I hear the breathy excitement in her voice.

  “Use your fingers and make yourself come. I want to hear you before I go to work.”

  “Oh,” she says. I sense her blushing at the other end of the line, the way she always does.

  “Are you still wearing your jeans?”

  “No, I slipped into something more comfortable.” She giggles, sending another jolt to my cock. “I got ready for bed, given I wasn’t going out anywhere. Pink shorts and camisole.”

  “Perfect. Lock the door then. I’ll wait.” I’m not going to have Martin walking in on this.

  She comes back on the line. “I’ve never done this before,” she says, obviously nervous, yet I detect excitement in her voice, not just nerves.

  “Good. I don’t want any other man doing this to you. But do it for me. Run your fingers over your nipples. Nice and slow. Imagine it’s my fingers doing that to you.”

  “I wish it was.” Her voice is husky, sexy as sin.

  “Me, too, baby. Now tweak your nipples until they’re hard. Will you do that? For me?”

  “Yes,” she says, “I am.”

  I picture her luscious nipples poking through silky, pink fabric. “Pull your shorts down,” I say. “Take them off. Are you wearing anything under them?”

  I hear her breath hitch. “Panties.” She gulps. “They’re white.”

  “Nice. Take them off, too. Imagine I’m looking at you in your camisole with no panties. Because I can see you in my mind as if you were right in front of me. It’s a beautiful sight. Touch yourself now. Are you wet?”

  “Yes.”

  I wish I was there with her, holding her, touching her myself, seeing her respond. “Then wet your fingers, but don’t touch your clit. Not yet. I want to come with you. I’m stroking my cock now, rock hard for you, imagining you touching yourself, hearing your voice, knowing what you’re doing, and remembering your scent, how you taste.”

  The words hit home. She gives a little moan that goes right to my groin. My hand grips my cock.

  “Suck your fingers. Let me hear you,” I say.

  I hear the smack of her lips. She’s so fucking gorgeous and doing everything I tell her. I won
’t take long to come at this rate.

  “Open your legs wide,” I say. “Imagine I’m between them, looking at you there, then rubbing my hard cock over you. You’re wet everywhere. Use the back of your hand and spread the wetness over your beautiful cunt.”

  She gasps at my use of the word, or at what I want her to do. I don’t know.

  “Circle your clit, but don’t touch it. Tease yourself. Tell me what you’re doing.”

  “I’m touching myself. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “You know how sexy you are?” I hear my voice gruff. “I can’t wait to be inside you. But for now, I just want to hear you come. Stroke your clit now.”

  I hear a moan of pleasure, music to my ears, and imagine her fingers working over her swollen bud, slippery and wet. I want to bury myself in her but for now my hand will have to do.

  “Tell me when you’re about to come,” I growl, hearing her gasps of pleasure. I’m hanging on until she’s there, but I’m barely able to contain my reaction.

  “Oh yes,” she says. “I can’t… oh… oh… oh.”

  And I erupt with her. Like a teenager. Just as well for Kleenex.

  “You don’t know what you do to me,” I say.

  “I think I have a good idea from the sound you made just now,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice.

  “Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough.”

  “I can’t wait,” she says. “You can come to my place, seeing as the coast will be clear.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Alyssa

  Did I just do that on the phone, like a porn star? I blush at the memory as I get cleaned up. But I did do it, and I loved it, every second.

  I feel guilty because I’m happy that my brother is going away for a week. He just got home. Every moment he was away, I was praying for him to get home safe and sound, and now I can’t wait for him to go. Not back to Afghanistan. I hate that he’s on the front line all the time, but I’m happy he’s going to London. Too happy.

  He’s cheerful next morning when he leaves for the station.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says. “I know you need to make your own mistakes. I just forget that sometimes. I still think Ward is no good for you, but I’ll be here for you when you need to pick up the pieces. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

  I don’t want to go into all that again, so I just say, “Thanks,” and give him a big hug. “I hope it works out with your girl.”

  “Me, too,” he says. “Otherwise I’ll be on Ben’s couch for a week.”

  “You can always come home,” I say with my fingers crossed behind my back. I really want this time alone with Ward, without Martin breathing down my neck and looking on with disapproval.

  “Thanks, Sis,” he says. “But I’ll give you some space, and I promised Ben I’d look him up anyway.”

  When Martin goes, I make myself a coffee and get back into bed for a while. I don’t have to get up for work for half an hour. I really need another job. This one is not making me leap out of bed in the mornings, for sure. But being with Ward makes me think I can do anything. A guy of my own. A new job. Endless possibilities.

  After luxuriating under the covers, I get out of bed with more of a pep in my step than usual. Any day with Ward in it has to be good, even if I have to go into the office and he has to go to work. We’ll only have a few short hours together later, so I have to make them count.

  Catching my reflection in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. Ward is right. I look sexy. My hair is all mussed from sleep, but there’s a glow in my cheeks. And my body! It’s not so bad. I can see what Ward sees in me. Why did I never appreciate it before now?

  I hope he won’t think I’m useless in bed. I wish I had more experience there, but at the same time, I’m happy that Ward will be my first. Is it too much to ask that he’ll be not only my first, but also my forever?

  That’s just being stupid. I shouldn’t let myself get too carried away, but I can’t help it. As I take my shower, I suspect being with him forever is exactly what I want.

  CHAPTER 22

  Ward

  I turn up at Alyssa’s door with the biggest bunch of flowers I could find at the local florist and a bottle of wine. It’s the least I could do when she’s made dinner. It smells delicious, but all thought of dinner goes right out of my mind once I kiss her. She smells more delicious to me than any meal.

  “You shouldn’t have,” she says when she takes the gifts from me with a smile. “But thank you.”

  I can tell she’s delighted, as if no one ever bought her flowers before. Yet the woman deserves a whole florist’s shop.

  “I swapped my shift. Gordon at work owes me, so I have the whole night off.” I wanted to make tonight special, and rushing off to work didn’t figure anywhere in that scenario.

  She grins at the news, and I kiss her again. We both know what that means. We have all night.

  We sit down to eat, prolonging the moment when I take her to bed. I want her now. To hell with the dinner. Fuck! I could swipe all the dishes onto the floor and take her on the dining table.

  But politeness wins out, and the food is good so I enjoy her chicken primavera and the wine, and she talks about the day she just had. She tells me she wants to find a new job, but she’s still thinking about what she wants to do with her life.

  “You’re lucky,” she says. “You knew exactly what you wanted to do and you got to do it.”

  “I didn’t always want to be a firefighter. You know I was a mechanic first, and in primary school I fancied being a wizard, but I didn’t get the grades.”

  She laughs. “I would have loved to be a mermaid, but swimming is not my thing.”

  “I’m glad you’re not,” I say. “I might have had to follow you into the water and there’s not much call for firefighters under the sea.” I take her hand and kiss her fingers.

  “Do you want dessert now?” she asks. “Or would you like to leave it until later?”

  “Thank you for dinner,” I say. “It was perfect, but I’m thinking later would be good for dessert.”

  We both get up from the table, as if rising on cue, our eyes locked on each other. And then I kiss her again.

  It’s not as if I haven’t kissed her before, but there’s so much tied up in this particular kiss, all the waiting and wanting that has been building up to this moment. And we both know it.

  She takes my hand and we cross the hall to her bedroom where the little lamp on her nightstand is already lit.

  I need to slow down and not come on to her like a teenager with extra hormones. But when she slowly undoes the top two buttons on her blouse to reveal the mounds of her breasts, I almost come right there at the sight.

  I take over, undoing the third button, and the rest, and she shrugs off her silky blouse. It slips to the floor. I bend my head and kiss the top of her breasts, burying my face in her sweet flesh. Removing her bra, I take first one nipple and then the other into my mouth.

  “Got to sit down,” she manages to say as if her legs don’t have the strength to hold her.

  I pick her up and carry her to the bed.

  The rest of her clothes are coming off right now. She has the body of an angel and I want to see it again. “This first,” I say, undoing her skirt and taking it off. And then I see what’s beneath. “Oh, the thigh highs can stay. I like.”

  She smiles up at me, the dimples in her cheeks showing, full of mischief.

  “But the panties have to go.” I pull them off and hold them to my nose, breathing in her delicate sexy scent, and she gasps.

  CHAPTER 23

  Alyssa

  I can’t believe what Ward is doing with my panties, or how wet I am in readiness for him. I haven’t seen him naked, but I’ve felt how big he is. I should be nervous, knowing that, but I’ve been waiting for him so long, I don’t care anymore if it hurts. I just want him inside me.

  I pull at his clothes, and he helps me, because I’m all fingers, fumbl
ing with the buttons on his shirt and the buckle on his belt. He shreds his clothes, and then he’s there in front of me, magnificent and yes, now I see the full size of him, slightly terrifying.

  But I can’t think about that. And in truth, in his arms I’m glorying in the hardness of his body against mine as he kisses me, how much he wants me, and how much I want him.

  He looks at me, and I can see there’s something going through his head.

  “What?” Please don’t let him be having second thoughts.

  “Just wondering how I got so lucky to find you again.” His fingers trace a path down my body and find my wet folds, and a gurgle of pleasure comes from my throat. He kisses my stomach and looks up at me. “Every time I look at you and you look at me, every time I get a scent of you, I get hard, and I think how much I want to fuck you until my ears ring. I love how wet you get for me, that you want this, too.”

  His words hit home, driving a ripple of anticipation down my spine. My hips rise of their own accord, pushing my needy clit against his fingers, demanding more.

  “Come on my fingers,” he says, circling and teasing. “Let me see you.”

  He spreads my legs apart so he can look at all of me, and I blush furiously, without any thought of denying his demand. In any case, I soon forget any sense of embarrassment as his fingers work on the most sensitive part of me, taking me up to the edge, but not over it, again and again.

  I make sounds from my throat I don’t think I’ve ever made in my life. I’m ready to plead and beg. And then just as I can’t take any more, his fingers increase the pressure and speed, and he says, “Come now.” And I do, not that I have any choice, calling out I don’t know what.

 

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