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Wise Men Say (1 Night Stand Series)

Page 4

by Burke, Wendy


  She slid down his body to lie between his long legs, and rested a cheek on his strong thigh. Her gaze traveled up the length of his body. In her loving study of his torso, she’d still missed so many, many scars. He lay quiet, eyes closed, his cheeks wet with tears.

  Be strong. Be strong for him. Sucking in her own sorrow, her one thought was to make him happy, prove to him even after so many absent years, she still wanted and would always want him. Turning her face into the crease of his thigh, she inhaled his scent, licked his skin. A sigh welled up from deep in his core, his breath changing to a moan as she cupped his heavy sac.

  “Em.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Please.”

  She held back a snicker. It had been so long since she’d been in this situation, more than twenty years, but the memory of how she loved pleasuring her fiancé and how he enjoyed being pleasured was all she needed to embark on an erotic oral adventure.

  It turned her on being attentive to this body part, and two decades ago, the attention drove him into fits. Hopefully, it still does.

  His legs quivered when she kissed the base of his penis. Venturing lower, she sealed her mouth on the delicate area between the junction of his cock and scrotum.

  “Fuckin’ A!” Nick bent back into the sheets. He stroked her hair in encouragement.

  With that bit of appreciative encouragement, she sucked. His natural aroma made her head spin—musky, manly, a scent she’d not experienced in too long.

  She lifted her head a bit to spy on him. Exquisite! His hard member pointed north, its head looking ready to burst, ready for action.

  Spotting his gorgeous grin and a wink of one pale blue eye, she had to kiss him. Slinking up the length of his body, she stopped nose to nose with him, giving him a tender smooch.

  “You’re killin’me.” He drew her in, reaching behind her to cup her backside with his strong hand then slipped it into the wetness between her legs.

  She stifled a groan and the desire to let him continue his caress. Denying him, she grabbed his forearm. “When I’m finished with you.” With a salacious wink, she wriggled from his hold and slid down his torso, bathing him with her tongue the entire way.

  His erection was ignored as she worked around it, kissing the crease of his thigh. She loved every inch of him, lapped at each fold of skin, laving his sac with long licks. Stroking Nick’s stomach, his panting forced her hand to rise and fall in tempo with each aroused hitch of breath.

  Content with the timbre of his groans, she let his sac pop from her mouth but continued to play on his skin with her lips, tongue and teeth. Her mouth-fondling returned north until she secured herself to the base of his cock.

  “Holy shit!”

  She’d forgotten what satisfying entertainment foreplay had been, igniting a smoldering deep in her core, the opening of her vagina fluttering, waiting to be driven over the edge. “C’mon, Emmy…please.”

  Even through his pleading, she avoided his cock, though she wanted to tease its silky tip with her tongue and do what she hadn’t done in years—lay herself over the edge of the bed, head dangling and take him in her mouth and further. Another trickle of fluid flowed from her at the thought of him pulsing in her throat.

  “Em….”

  Abandoning her happy work, she rose up. With his whiskered cheeks cradled in her hands, she whispered, “I missed you so much.”

  She kissed him and stroked his handsome face before returning to her task. When he dropped back into the pillows, he gripped the headboard like a man clinging to flotsam of a sinking ship.

  Taking her time, she teased him, dancing her tongue around the center of attention, knowing the slightest hint of manual or oral intent would finish him. Entertained, she chuckled under her breath when he gasped as though he’d sprinted a marathon.

  “I love you, Nicky,” she said before consuming him.

  He convulsed and shouted her name, total body muscle contractions jacking him upright. Digging his hands into her hair, he tried to wrench her from her severe sucking.

  Failing, he dropped back into the pillows and groaned. His chest and abdomen heaved as he attempted to regain his breath. He writhed in the linens, out of control, twitching with over stimulation.

  Swallowing hard, Emmy waited until he stilled then released him, kissing his stomach, insisting her way into his cuddle.

  I never thought I’d do that again! She held back the tears at the thought—how was it possible? Who would believe I went to Vegas for business and a naked man with a gun showed up in my room and it’s my missing fiancé?

  He was quiet for a long time, but it didn’t matter to Emmy—at this moment, he didn’t need to speak or move, his motionless touch said more than any words could have expressed in the past twenty years.

  She turned, noticing the bedside clock. Have we not moved for an hour?

  Settling in her original spot, his caresses and kisses began anew. His easy strength moved her wherever he pleased, until she was splayed out with Nick’s full heft upon her. She whimpered, aroused and frightened in the same moment. What was to transpire had her mind reeling back to their first time together. She’d been a virgin, and as slow, gentle and caring as he’d been, still it hurt like hell. Would this time be painful—hell, it’s not like she’d had practice. She’d been celibate since their last night together, in this same city.

  “Nick.”

  He met her eyes. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

  She shrugged under him.

  “Still beautiful—like I knew you’d be.” He kissed her, warm and slow. “Ready, honey.”

  “Been ready for the past twenty years, Ni—” He cut short her words by nudging his sizeable cock head against her opening.

  With a disappointed groan, he pulled back, stretching over her. Emmy panted and swooned when his chest and stomach skimmed her breasts as he reached for his bag on the floor. She heard a rustle of packaging then he moved his hands between them. She stroked his forearms, his sinews flexing under his skin. He finished rolling on the condom in preparation for the inevitable. Dear God, this is really happening!

  He returned his attention to her then ran his fingers through her hair, framing her face with his hands. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and sweetly on the mouth. “Are you all right with this, hon?”

  She pushed her hips up until he breached her. With a gasp, she arched, willing him inside. “I missed you, Nick.”

  Encouraging him slightly from her, she ran her hands down his well-cut torso, stopping to trace an angry red scar on his abdomen. He removed her hand, returning her focus to the two of them. Her gaze followed the line of his muscles, down to watch his huge dick disappear into her then reappear. She’d forgotten how much a turn on watching him fuck her had been.

  “I missed you making love to me.”

  “And, I missed making love with you.”

  He grabbed her hips, steadying her. Locking her in his grip, he rose up and she cried out as the head of his cock popped in and out of her, its substantial rim massaging her.

  “I missed hearing you, Em…how you fucking moan.”

  “I can’t help it,” she panted.

  He buried himself into her farther than seemed possible. He released his grip, allowing her to meet his body, thrust for thrust.

  His fingers set fire to her skin wherever he touched. He cupped a breast, rolling the nipple rolled between his thumb and forefinger. His intense manipulation burst through the line where exquisite pain turns to extreme pleasure. “Oh, God!” she squealed, writhing beneath him.

  She clung to him as he moved. His mouth on her ear, he breathed heavily at her expressions of lust so explicit, his mere words almost brought her to climax, thoughts she’d not heard aloud since the last time they’d made love.

  Before she could moan again, he cut short the utterance, smothering it with his lips. Barely able to breathe, she wrenched her mouth from his and wailed. Tears covered her face and sobs wracked her as hard as her or
gasm.

  Exuberant curse words, embellished with her name, filled the room. He shuddered against her, inside her, her spasms drawing on his cock as he released.

  He dropped upon her. With his dick still twitching, he buried his face in her neck. She held him tightly as they cried together. Stroking his head, she whispered, “It’s okay, baby, you’re home now, it’s okay.”

  Chapter Five

  “So, you still think I’m a hard body, huh?” He rested against the headboard and looked down at his fiancée, again falling in love with her beautiful smile.

  With a nod, she wrapped her arms about him and laid her cheek on his chest. He watched her head rise and fall with her breathing. I never thought I’d have the chance to do this again.

  So, he was the Hard body she remembered, though like her, some twenty years older. She’d aged, or rather, matured like a fine wine. In the past, she’d told him he never looked his age, but now his internal physical aging had surpassed his chronological age due to near-starvation, beatings, shrapnel, gunfire, among other things.

  Burrowing into the sheets, she sighed against his bare skin—he’d worn her out. Stroking her head, he closed his eyes, letting the headboard support him. Shit, I’m tired. But a wonderful tired. Spent in a way so unlike the extreme mental and physical exhaustion he’d experienced over the past decades, instead this was a warm, contented sleepiness. She marked the suture scars of a deep, healed wound across his belly. “Lay down with me, Nick?”

  To him, propped up was lying down. “I am, hon.”

  “No, come down here, cuddle with me in the sheets.”

  Uh oh.

  “What is it?”

  How could he explain to her that he hadn’t slept prone in nearly twenty years? Flat on his back wasn’t conducive to springing up and bolting for safety, or shooting someone in the head.

  She sat up beside him; her hands warm on his cheeks. “Tell me.”

  Rubbing the scar under his chin, its phantom weight returned. “Honey, you really don’t want to know.”

  She took his hands, stopping his assault on the reminder of war. “Don’t keep this from me—I need to know.”

  With a small smile, he brought her hands to his lips, kissing them. “We were canvassing near Khorugh, in the hills bordering Tajikistan—I don’t even remember how long ago. And, what we were doing there, well, that doesn’t even matter anymore.”

  He drew her into his lap, where she rested her head on his shoulder. “Two of us were on recon and got separated from the rest of the team. We were basically on our own and seriously fucking lost. It’d been a week since we’d seen any friendlies. We were holed up where we thought we’d be relatively invisible for awhile. Boyles kept watch, so I thought I’d close my eyes for five minutes. Well, I was out…I mean like, I-needed-a-month’s-worth-of-sleep, out. And, I kind of slumped over to one side. Next thing I know, I feel this heat, a weight on my back, and this guy’s trying to slice me from ear to ear. Thank goodness for dull blades.”

  She trembled in his hold, a warm tear hitting his chest.

  “He’d killed Boyles. So, after I dispatched the bastard, I had to stitch myself up. It bled like a motherfucker. To this day, if I pass a farm, or a cattle truck goes by me on the freeway, I smell his breath all over again…like manure.” He held back his own reminiscent shiver.

  One or two teardrops had turned to a torrent.

  He tightened his hold on her. “C’mon now, Em…it was a long time ago.”

  “But,” she snuffled, “You could be….”

  “Dead. I know. I could’ve been dead a hundred times over, honey, but I’m not. I’m just sorry it took me so long to get back to you.”

  She burrowed deeper into him and he welcomed her. In a voice, quiet and unsure, as if she shouldn’t admit some things, she said, “So many people told me to give up. To stop hoping…admit the fact that you were gone and not coming back.” She tipped her head to look at him, and he saw in her hazel eyes what had attracted him to her in the first place—honesty and truth.

  She patted her chest. “But I knew in here, Nicky, I knew you would come back to me…you promised, and you never break a promise.”

  He gave her an understanding smile, happy that she grinned in return. Stroking her cheek, he shook his head amazed how long he’d been gone.

  “I thought about you every day, and I mean every day. And, when I’d think of you, I’d smile—even so far away, in such terrible situations, you could make me happy, Emmy. Like you always have.”

  “Is this real, Nick?”

  “Absolutely.”

  In the light cast from the bathroom, Emmy gazed at Nick. Sound asleep, he looked like the tired young man she’d fallen in love with more than half her life ago. A tiny grin lit his face. Is he dreaming about me?

  Slipping from his warm embrace, she repositioned his arm where it would be comfortable. Tears dripped before she even left the bedroom. She gained a bit of control and snagged a wad of tissue from a nearby table before perching on the edge the sofa.

  The waterworks began. So overwhelmed by the past hours, her emotions were in a turmoil. Burying her face in the tissue, she stifled sobs of elation, shock, wonder and unsolicited worry.

  Everything she’d ever wanted to make her life the happiest slept contentedly in the next room. The man she’d loved for so long was alive, had returned to her, and in no uncertain terms had expressed his undying affection, in words and physical action.

  Then why am I so distraught?

  “Baby?”

  The cushion next to her dipped under Nick’s weight. She had to stop from shaking him off when his warm hand lit upon her back.

  He wrapped his arms about her, and she relented when he drew her in. She wished she could explain, but thoughts of what she should say only prompted more diligent crying.

  “What is it?” Stroking her hair, kissing her forehead, he comforted her. “If it’s any consolation, this is just as overwhelming for me. I’m afraid too, hon.”

  She quieted. “You are?”

  “’Course I am—I mean, hell, what if you were married or seeing someone else? I wouldn’t have blamed you; I’ve been gone a long time.”

  “But what if this doesn’t….”

  “Why wouldn’t it work? It’s just time that’s been between us—I never stopped being in love with you, and from what you said earlier, you waited all this time for me. I’ll make it worth your while, hon, I promise.”

  “Just don’t leave me again.”

  “I won’t—promise.”

  ***

  Rubbing her eyes, Emmy turned and shifted in the bed, knowing she’d slide right into Nick’s warm, hard body. She reached for him and found nothing.

  Probably in the other room.

  She sat up and stretched. Leaning forward prompted her legs to yell at her, inner thighs achy and angry at the previous night’s workout. She held back a snicker. It was again wonderful to be sore in such a secretive way.

  Where the hell did he go? Dread filled her, until she spotted his compact travel bag tucked away in the corner of the bedroom, his tan khaki T-shirt draped about a nearby chair. A note on the nightstand caught her eye. Picking it up, she chuckled at the sentiment: Paul & I will hold off ordering the eggs Benedict until you show up! Love you, Sleepy–Nick.

  Wobbly legs carried her into the shower. She hurried through her morning routine. Her initial unsteadiness turned to light-hearted energy. Closing the door to her—their—room, she floated down the hall, filled with elation. I’m having breakfast with my fiancé!

  ***

  What’s going on here?

  The concourse of The Castillo was packed with New Year’s revelers, all stopped in one spot, observing something. Who knows! This is Vegas—maybe Elvis hasn’t left the building! She wound her way through and about them, getting closer to what they watched. A dozen members of the military, dressed in desert tan working uniforms stood in two precise lines leading to the hotel’s exit. Nick h
ad to be around there somewhere, probably busy thanking and shaking the hand of every man in uniform.

  A blaze of white appeared next to her.

  She did a double take. Surprised to see the unexpected but familiar face, she cried, “Seth, what’re you doing here?” Had his vacation plans included Las Vegas?

  Dressed in his 1st Class Midshipman’s uniform, he commanded attention. His carriage impressed everyone, a force to be reckoned with.

  Like the officer he’d someday be, and the young gentleman he was, he removed his white hat, tucked it under his arm then kissed her cheek. “I told you I was catching up with some buddies, but I didn’t tell you where, did I?”

  “Well, no….”

  “So, I thought I’d surprise you!”

  “Thank you, honey.” When he extended his elbow to her, she clutched it, allowing him to lead, headed nowhere near the restaurant where Nick and Paul waited for her.

  “I’m meeting someone for breakfast.”

  “I know.” His grin was broad, beautiful and filled with happy secrets.

  She stopped, demanding answers. “Midshipman Seth Nicholas Patterson, what are you up to?”

  “Ma’am, with all due respect, not a thing.” With a wink, he turned her toward the two rows of military men. They parted and he escorted her through them and out into the Vegas heat.

  Emmy shaded her eyes to the bright morning sun, watching the young sailor give his topper a good wrench upon his short-haired head.

  A sandy military transport vehicle roared into the turnaround, and Seth opened the latch. “After you,” he said, assisting her inside.

  After they’d settled and the heavy vehicle began to move, she looked around. Guess Nicky’s been in a lot of these—what tight quarters! She leaned forward, trying to peer out through the front window.

  She tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Excuse me, where are we going?”

  Dark wraparound sunglasses hid his eyes. Like all military men, there seemed to be an air of mystery surrounding him—stoic, strong, spy-like. His head was shaved nearly bald and the sun cast a glare off it into the cab of the vehicle.

 

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