by Violet Duke
“Is this about the whole virginity thing?” queried Lia with a fierce little frown that told him she was ready to go to the mat on this one. “Because you know, there is a very obvious remedy for that.”
“Not going to happen, Lia. You deserve so much better for your first time.”
She gave him a look that said he’d just given her a non-answer…and one she considered not very bright, at that.
“I’m trying to do right by you, honey. Yes, it’s been impossible not to flirt with you these past few weeks—you’re just so sweet to tease. But I’m leaving in a few months. You don’t want to lose your virginity to a guy who’s not going to stick around.”
“Becaaause…” she stretched out the word, brow raised in challenge, “every virgin in the history of time has stayed with the person he or she lost their virginity to?”
He shut his mouth. Criminy, she was going to fight him on this.
This was one battle he absolutely was not prepared for.
“Face it, Hudson, there could be far worse ways for me to lose my virginity. Like having my first time be with a man who has all the geographical qualifications…only to later wish it’d been you all along.”
Honestly, give him a knife fight with dull blades over a battle of wits with a sharp woman determined to get her way.
He tried a different tactic to make her see reason. “I like you, Lia. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Truth is, even if you weren’t a virgin, you’re just not the sort of girl that guys like me usually pick up at a bar for stateside sleepovers and temporary hook-ups between tours. You’ll end up getting hurt and I’m just not willing to let that happen.”
Irrefutable argument, right there.
“Why would you automatically think it would be a temporary hook-up?”
Okay, irrefutable to his gender, at least.
“The mere fact that I’m leaving in a few months would make this the exact definition of one.”
“Or could it be just the type of relationship that ends on schedule in a few months?”
He sighed. Her cuteness carried some serious firepower. “Lia, that’s not an actual thing.”
“Tons of relationship don’t even last that long,” she argued as if he hadn’t spoken.
True.
“So unless you’re telling me that our being together would be just about sex, I still disagree with you. Is that what you’re trying to say?” she asked with a slight waver in her bravado. “That all you want from me is just sporadic bouts of sex for the next few months?”
Hell no, he didn’t want just anything from her, he wanted…everything. Therein was the problem. He sighed. “No, it wouldn’t be just about sex, Lia. I don’t think this thing between us has ever been only about sex.”
A radiant smile hit her lips in response to that, before she concluded, “So then it wouldn’t be a temporary hook-up for us. More like a…relationship with a shelf life. A ‘best by’ expiration date, if you will,” she teased lightly.
“Are you comparing a relationship with me to a can of soup?”
He kind of hated that.
“You said you had a few months before you have to go back to California, right? Then definitely not a can of soup.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “More like a box of Thanksgiving stuffing—my favorite.”
He liked stuffing too, loved it actually. For him, it was the best part of Thanksgiving. “Do you make good stuffing?” he asked for no logical reason.
Her burst of laughter was a clear ‘no.’ “Out of the box, sure. I can follow cardboard directions like no one’s business. But otherwise, my brothers will tell you I’m not that great of a cook.”
Well, thankfully for them, he was. He’d have to show her this Thanksgiving.
What the hell?
“We’ve gone horribly off track here,” he muttered more to himself than her.
“You’re right, we have. You were still in the middle of making up more reasons why the next few months can’t constitute a relationship for us.”
“You don’t go into a relationship knowing it’s doomed to fail. If it fails on its own after a period of time, that’s different.”
“Why would it be a failure? Just because it ends? Can’t it be a successful relationship that was shorter than others?”
Damn her and her twistedly logical reasoning…which was even starting to make sense to him.
“Fine.” She crossed her arms in a this-is-my-final-offer pose. “We can call it a prototypical ‘friends with benefits’ relationship if that makes you feel better. But no more excuses. Hudson, you and I both know that our futures can change with the speed of a bullet.”
Did he ever.
“Expiration dates are a part of life. I’d never let something like a shelf life hold me back from something potentially great. If I did, I’d never buy corned beef and marble rye from the deli.”
Shoot, now he didn’t know if he was hungry or…well, he was definitely hungry, and now the woman has managed to tie herself to his all-time favorite sandwich.
Judging from the twinkle in her eye, she darn well knew it too.
He’d have to keep his wits about him for the next few months—
Criminy. She got him. He exhaled gruffly and mentally looked around for a white flag. “So ‘friends with benefits’ for the next few months? That’s really what you want?”
She grinned. “Is that a yes?” More eye dancing.
He leaned in and gave his fierce little negotiator a hungry, but brief kiss. “Yes.”
She beamed and jumped up into his arms.
Smiling, he conceded that maybe she was right. Not having her in his arms for the next few months no longer seemed like an option. Maybe they could just enjoy each other’s company and not have it be such a big deal.
“So now about these ‘benefits,’” she pressed.
Aaand they were back to it being a very big deal.
“I’m still not taking your virginity. You’ve held onto it this long.” You’re not wasting it on me. He kept the last statement to himself but the darkening of her eyes made him wonder if she could hear his thoughts.
She studied his not-up-for-argument expression for a bit before revealing quietly, “To be clear, my virginity isn’t something I’ve been ‘saving’ or anything like that. I told you I’ve dated. But there was never a real connection with anyone. Beyond that, you and I have talked on the phone enough these past few weeks for you to see that I’m mostly just busy with work.”
Chewing on her lip, she added quietly, “So honestly, I haven’t really thought much about sex…until I met you.”
Holy hell.
“Honey, you can’t say things like that to a man who’s always followed the celibacy-during-deployment rule to the letter.”
Her eyes widened. “How long was your last tour?”
“Two years.”
If possible, those twin pools of adorableness widened even more. “And since you’ve been back…?” she ventured.
“Never thought about it much,” he gave her back her words on a silver platter. “Until I met you.” Her breathing hitched and he leaned over to brush his lips against her cheek. Fiery hot, just like her. “So I guess we’re at a stalemate.”
A damn mean one at that.
“Not necessarily,” she countered quickly.
He buckled in for what was undoubtedly going to be a doozey of a comeback.
“Now while I don’t know exactly what each constitutes,” she gave a disgruntled little frown, “and online searches have been surprisingly contradictory, I was thinking maybe we can just…round some bases.”
He almost swallowed his tongue. “You want to ‘round some bases’ with me?” Never had an offer sounded so sweet.
Or so dangerous.
Blushing cheeks and all, she gave him an avid nod, her gaze holding onto his firmly. Even in this, the woman was fearless. The smallest shuffle of her feet, and a slight waver in her voice were her only signs that she was way the
heck out of her comfort zone.
Definitely dangerous.
“Honey—”
“Before you say no, I’m not just some sex-crazed virgin just wanting to use your body as my own acrobatic playground to sow all my wild oats.”
It was growing increasingly fuzzy which side of the argument her words were supporting.
For crying out loud, he barely knew which side of the argument he was on right now.
Those witchy catlike eyes of hers got bedroom soft in an instant. “I just want the freedom to stop ignoring all these feelings I’ve only really ever felt with you, the freedom to experience everything you make me want to experience. I get that my virginity is your hard line you don’t feel comfortable crossing, but other than that, can’t we just…be together in every other way but that? Without restrictions? Does it really need to be an all or nothing sort of thing?”
For the sake of his sanity, most assuredly.
But when he saw just how strongly she felt about this, he answered gently, “No. It doesn’t.”
The more she talked, the more he realized she wasn’t looking at him like the women he’d hooked up with in the past who’d talk about blowjobs and sex toys as a means to get him to sleep with them. No, Lia was looking at him like… Hell, he’d actually never had a woman look at him the way she was right now.
That was enough to help him tamp down the raging hard-on her bold little suggestion had inspired long enough to pull her into his arms and consider her proposal seriously.
“Honey, I’d consider myself the luckiest man alive if I got to be the one to share that freedom with you, to be with you without restrictions. But are you sure? Because we don’t have to go that far. Honestly, I’m happy just kissing on you every night.”
“But that would mean cold showers every morning throughout our entire relationship,” she retorted with a frown.
Yeah, probably. “But I’m okay with that, sweetheart.”
“I meant for me,” she muttered, her cheeks positively burning against his skin. “That’s all I seem to be doing lately after I see you or talk to you.”
Well, damn. “That makes two of us,” he assured her. “So then your solution to our showering problems is that we ‘round some bases’?”
“Yes.” She rested her face against his chest. “Preferably all the way up to third.” More deep-breathing bravery. “Or at least what I hope third base is. For both of us.”
That ‘both of us’ had him nearly falling to his knees.
“Lia, you’re killing me here.”
“Is that a no?”
Jesus, she argued the way she fought. Quick, no-nonsense, short-distance jabs.
“No. That’s not a no.”
She pulled back and a sweet, sexy smile traveled from her lips straight up to her eyes.
Another effective jab.
Then she slid her hand into his and kissed his knuckles.
“Honey, that’s the hand that can’t feel.”
“I know. And no, it isn’t,” she replied with a shrug, as if her answer made all the sense in the world.
Shockingly, to him, it did.
And though he knew he was diving into waters that were undoubtedly going to pull him out farther than he could make it back from, he dropped his lips down to hers and drank in all her sweetness, all her bravery.
Never had he ever wanted a woman so much.
Looking into her kiss-drunken eyes, he almost smiled when she seemed utterly shocked that her apartment door was now behind her back.
“Unlock the door, honey. Let us in.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN HUDSON’S EYES darkened to an intense, smoky gray, Lia felt her knees go weak.
Most of her other jellified joints soon followed as he all but stalked her to the couch and gently tumbled her backward onto the cushions.
Slipping his hands under her, he slid her back toward him and settled her between his rock-hard thighs as his eyes tracked the movement of her t-shirt inching up her torso. His eyes remained locked on the few inches of skin revealed while his palms smoothed over her belly.
“Have I told you how sexy I think your belly button is?”
A ludicrous statement she knew was untrue. Halfie belly buttons only looked sexy on women surfers and beach volleyball players. And while Lia was reasonably sun-kissed from her late afternoon jogs and frequent trips to the outdoor gun ranges, her belly was nowhere in the vicinity of tan.
Self-consciously, she slammed her hand over her navel.
“No,” he growled softly, pulling her hands up to circle his neck instead. “No covering up. If all I get is first base with you tonight, then your belly button is definitely fair game.”
“First base?” she grumbled, the female pout in her voice one she’d never heard come out of her mouth before. “I thought we agreed on third base.”
“One base at a time, sweetheart. Tonight is first base.”
He was smiling against her skin, she could feel it.
Well, two could play at that game.
She slid her hands back down to her belly and reveled in how quickly his eyes went from disgruntled to red hot with lust as she slowly pulled her shirt up and off.
“First base only, Lia,” he ground out, sounding like he was reminding himself more than he was her.
“According to the internet, that’s kissing and over-the-clothes action.” She grinned as she saw his eyes dart to her fingers at the button fly of her jeans. And hold. “So my boyshort panties and a sports bra seem perfectly within first base guidelines.”
He exhaled a long, slow breath. “Jesus. You are so beautiful, Lia.”
She watched, captivated as he proceeded to memorize every inch of her with his hands.
“Used to be, I could handle a combat weapon with the kind of speed and precision that guys in my unit were gladly willing to trade their left nut for.” A hard edge darkened his expression for a brief moment before fading, softening when his gaze fell on her face again.
“After the explosion, discovering that I wouldn’t ever have that level of fine motor control in my trigger hand again, or that I wouldn’t ever be able to fully process the feel of a weapon because of the nerve damage in my other hand…that just about destroyed me.”
He slid his hand over her skin gently. “But this—”
She gasped, gripped the cushions to keep herself grounded mentally, emotionally. To keep her silly heart from acknowledging the fact that he was shattering her defenses with that one simple touch, owning her with the intense, single-minded focus his eyes held as they followed the path his fingers were tracing across her belly. Hungrily. Reverently.
“I thought that was the hardest thing I’d have to get over because of my injuries. But this right here,” he whispered, leaning down to wreak even more havoc on her senses by shadowing his touch with his words, his evil, evil lips only just barely skimming her flesh. “Not being able to do all the things I want to do to you with the pace and precision I want to with this hand…”
She stopped breathing when she felt his other palm smooth up the back of her thigh.
“And worse, not being able to feel you fully with this one… Hell, Lia. That’s killing me more than you can imagine.”
* * * * *
HUDSON NEARLY CAME in his jeans when Lia gasped and bucked up against him, sending her sexy mound mere millimeters from his lips.
This was definitely well past first base.
So he backed off.
Only to find he couldn’t go another second without feeling her lips under his again. He pulled her up onto his lap with every intention of kissing her silly.
Until the rings on her necklace swung forward and caught the light.
His eyes snagged on the glittering anchors to her past and instantly he dropped back to put some distance between them.
With every heaving breath she took, those two rings served as a dainty, twinkling reminder he’d started to allow himself to forget.
Tha
t he simply wasn’t the man who could give her everything she deserved.
She gazed into his eyes and offered softly, “If it bothers you, I can take them off. I know if the positions were reversed—”
“You’d insist I not take them off until I was ready,” he finished, knowing the truth in that implicitly. “Just like I’m insisting.”
Not wanting her to think that his stopping was because of anything she did wrong, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I didn’t stop out of jealousy over you wearing the rings or anything like that, sweetheart. Truly. I know you’re not pining. I know you’ve made peace with being a widow. But being at peace with something and moving on to the next step are two completely different things. Nothing about the situation you’ve had to survive is simple to move on from—not how your best friend was taken from you, and certainly not how he ‘died.’ You shouldn’t rush it just to round a few bases.”
With me.
In his mind, the unspoken two words held the heaviest weight of his concerns.
She sighed. “I’m sorry I come with baggage.”
Startled, he almost chuckled at the absurdity of that. Given all she’d gone through in her life, in his book, Lia was the most unbelievably strong and well-adjusted woman in the world.
He, on the other hand…
“Honey, you have dainty little carry-ons compared to the giant suitcases I have.”
He looked down and saw—but couldn’t feel—her fingers intertwine with his. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t feel the gesture.
Even more so when it was accompanied by her quiet question: “Will you ever let me help you carry your suitcases with you? Not for you. Just with you.”
Stunned both by her question and by the answer in his gut, he replied truthfully, “I don’t know. But you’re the first person who I’ve ever even thought of asking.”
* * * * *
AN HOUR AND A HALF later, Lia was fast asleep in his arms just as the film credits for the old kung-fu movie they’d been watching started scrolling across the screen.