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Semper Fi

Page 7

by Jane Harvey-Berrick


  “I want to kiss you, Caro. Very badly.”

  Her eyes glowed, and I held my breath as she slowly raised her hand to my cheek. I leaned into her warmth, my eyes closing as her fingers brushed down my neck, heat and desire rising everywhere she touched me.

  I took a step closer, resting my hands on her small waist. Then she pulled my head toward her and I felt her lips on mine at last. So soft, so sensuous. I could feel her breath stroke my face, her lips parted and my tongue swept into her mouth.

  And then the emotions, the memories that burned through me—every pain, every regret scorched in the heat of her touch. I remembered: her body arching as mine moved above her, inside her, the intensity of every moment seared through me.

  I pressed my hips into her, my erection painfully obvious as her mouth devoured every breath.

  “God, I want you, Caro. I want to make love to you,” I whispered against her lips.

  “Yes,” she said. “I want that, too.”

  I could have taken her there and then. My body was crying out for her.

  Instead I had to go park my bike in the hotel’s secure underground garage and hope to hell that Caro didn’t change her mind by the time I came back. I thought she might. She could come to her senses at any moment and think of all the reasons why this was a bad idea, why I wasn’t good enough for a successful career woman who could have her pick of guys. It was hard to believe she was forty. She was still smokin’ hot.

  The truth was I’d never be good enough for her, but that didn’t stop me wanting her. And if she had low standards, who the hell was I to complain?

  She was waiting for me in the lobby, sitting on the same sofa where I’d sat last night during our excruciating heart-to-heart. She looked anxious, a frown creasing her forehead. I was sure she could read me, tension and expectation in every molecule of my body. Ten years. Ten long years I’d waited for this moment. And I was a man now, not a boy, and I knew I could make this good for her. If she let me.

  I wondered if we’d still have that amazing chemistry. It felt like we would, if the way my body was reacting to hers was anything to go by.

  I crossed the lobby to stand in front of her, my eyes searching her face, for any part of her that didn’t want this. I held out my hand and she took it without hesitation. If it was a mistake, then it was one we both made willingly.

  A relieved smile flickered across my face as I pulled Caro to her feet, braiding my fingers through hers as we headed toward the bank of gleaming elevators.

  All were busy, crammed with tourists returning from day trips, politicians and businessmen heading to their rooms. The bastards were eyeing Caro with approval, so I pulled her to the side and shot them some serious fuck-off glares, before wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her back into my chest, and allowing myself to rain soft kisses onto her hair.

  The doors opened again with a soft hiss and several other people got off at the same floor, following us along the corridor, chatting noisily. Caro and I were silent.

  She pulled the keycard out of her wallet, and I could see the tremor in her hands as she pushed the door open and walked inside.

  I stood watching her as she moved around the room, turning on the side lights, pulling the curtains, shifting her laptop from the duvet. She still hadn’t looked at me, so I walked in slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. I caught her hand as she hurried past on another pointless circuit.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I’m nervous, too.”

  She stared at me in amazement.

  “You’re nervous … why?”

  “Because it’s you,” I said simply.

  And it wasn’t a line. Just because I’d fucked my way around every city I’d ever lived in, it didn’t mean shit. This, here and now, this was what mattered. With her. I’d been numb for so long and now I wanted to feel again—it scared the fuck out of me.

  I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it gently, hoping to reassure her. I didn’t want my so-called reputation getting in the way.

  “Only if you want to, Caro.”

  And I meant it: she had to want me, too.

  “I do,” she stuttered. “I just feel, I don’t know, embarrassed. It’s so stupid.”

  I couldn’t find the words to reassure her, so I decided to show her what she meant to me. I lay back on the bed and gently pulled her down next to me, then began kissing her throat, my hands moving up from her waist. The soft warmth of her body heated mine, and I couldn’t help pressing myself over her, wanting to feel her everywhere.

  But then she froze underneath me and spoke the words I’d been dreading since the moment I told her that I wanted her.

  “No, Sebastian,” she gasped, pushing me away.

  I stopped immediately, my heart shuddering as my stupid body fought to continue what we’d started. I took a deep breath and rolled away from her, forcing a smile to my face. I wasn’t sure if she meant not now, or not ever, or no fucking way. But she wasn’t making me leave, so I kept the smile glued to my face, even though she looked like she was about to bolt.

  And then I had an idea that might help her to relax.

  “Let’s just make out,” I suggested.

  She seemed stunned, as if she’d expected me to get up and leave.

  “Make out? As in…”

  “Lie on the bed, watch trashy TV in French or German—your choice—and make out,” I clarified.

  I raised my eyebrows challengingly, then sat up and shrugged out of my jacket, dropping it on the floor, before unbuckling by boots and tossing them into the corner with my socks.

  Caro used to tell me that she thought my feet were sexy. I remember thinking, What the fuck? but I’d use everything I had—whatever that was.

  I grabbed a couple of pillows, piled them against the headboard and launched myself backward.

  “Where’s the remote?”

  She pointed silently to the cabinet on her side of the bed and I leaned across her to retrieve it. She didn’t flinch as I rubbed up against her, so I took that as another good sign.

  She watched as I surfed through a few channels before I found some badly-dubbed TV show, then grinned up at her, patting the space on the bed beside me.

  She blinked and seemed undecided. I held my breath while she unlaced her boots and dropped them next to mine. But then she crawled up on the bed next to me, and I pulled her into my arms so she was resting against my chest. God, the memories this brought back. The many times we’d made love—but never enough. I kissed her forehead, and settled back on the pillows with a sigh when she snuggled into me.

  “This feels good,” I said, a deep contentment flowing through my body. “Should we order room service?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Would you mind if I ordered myself a beer?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t mind.”

  I pulled the hotel telephone toward me to order a beer and a sandwich, then relaxed with my arm around her, enjoying the scent of her hair, her body soft against mine. I wanted more, but I could wait.

  The Swiss were efficient, I’ll give them that. The beer arrived within five minutes, and the ‘sandwich’—an enormous French baguette—was stuffed with cold cuts, lettuce and tomato.

  Result! I grabbed the bread and started inhaling it as quickly as I could. A broad grin spread across Caro’s face.

  “Food instead of sex?” she asked, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

  I nearly choked, but managed to swallow in time. Hmm, swallowing. Yeah, food versus sex—it was a running joke we’d once shared. I was stupidly happy that she’d remembered.

  “For now,” I teased her. “I’m still kind of hoping the sex comes later.”

  “How’s that going for you?”

  “Not sure: she’s playing hard to get. I was going to ply her with alcohol and have my wicked way with her, but I guess she’s wise to my game.”

  “Women!” she laughed, rolling her eyes.

  I finished the sandwich a
nd brushed crumbs from my t-shirt, then lay back with the bottle of beer and wrapped my free arm around her again.

  “I could get used to this,” I admitted, nuzzling her hair.

  “What, badly dubbed reruns of ‘Frasier’ and TV dinners?” she snarked back at me.

  “You know exactly what I mean, woman.”

  “Oh, ‘woman’, is it?” she said, thumping me on the chest.

  Something snapped inside me, and I couldn’t pretend any longer.

  “Yes, a beautiful, amazing, talented, gorgeous woman.”

  Caro’s brown eyes stared up at me and I saw the uncertainty and lack of belief in herself that had always plagued her. Maybe she hadn’t changed as much as I’d thought.

  I placed my beer on the bedside table, then pulled her gently into my chest, caressing her ear, gently sweeping her hair aside. I studied her face carefully before leaning in to kiss her, a soft reassuring kiss—nothing that would scare her away again.

  My mouth drifted across her face, tasting, teasing, hovering over her eyelids, brushing over her chin, then returning to rest on her full lips.

  Her hand crept up my stomach then inched across my chest, pausing for a moment just over my heart. I was sure she’d feel how fast it was beating, then my cool, calm cover would be blown.

  She lifted her hand to cup my cheek, and I turned my face to kiss her palm.

  I pulled her in more tightly, so she was half-lying across me, and I ran my hands up her spine while I kissed her neck. I was so turned on I was finding it hard to keep control as I ran my tongue over her throat, then tugged on her lower lip, begging to be inside her one way or another … and then I was, and my heart swooped and spun, like an airplane about to crash and burn.

  She moaned against my lips, a long, drawn-out sigh of need and pleasure as she hooked her leg over my thigh, pulling our bodies closer together. My balls were aching and my dick was granite, trying to climb out of my jeans to get to her.

  The kiss deepened, but whether it was her or me, I couldn’t tell. My hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans and I pulled her t-shirt free, at last reaching bare skin, before I played with the elastic of her bra. Too soon, moron! my brain screamed at my dick, so I dropped my hands down to cup her ass.

  She trembled, and I froze. Was I pushing her too fast? Was this going to blow up in my face again?

  She pushed away from me and my heart jolted, but then she reached up to touch me.

  “Are you sure, Caro?” I asked quietly.

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  Then she sat up and pulled off her t-shirt. I nearly swallowed my tongue.

  Her breasts were every bit as good as the warm flesh that had haunted me in too many dreams for too many years. I yanked my own t-shirt over my head, ignoring the ripping sound as they tangled with my dog tags. I was desperate to feel her skin against mine.

  I reached for her again, but then paused, watching her eyes roam over my body. Most women liked what they saw—I hoped it still worked for her. Her fingers hovered over the top of my left arm.

  “You got a tattoo?”

  Yeah, women always liked that.

  “Standard Marine issue,” I joked.

  I’d got the ink back in San Diego just after I’d graduated from boot camp. Most of my graduating class had done the same thing.

  I let her fingers trace the shape while I slowly stroked the silky skin of her back.

  “The Marine insignia, right?” she said. “What does it stand for?”

  I smiled—I had no doubt she knew exactly what it stood for, but if she needed to take a moment, that was fine by me.

  “The eagle represents the nation, well, protecting the nation—see the way its wings are spread out? The globe is our worldwide presence, and the anchor is because of our naval heritage.”

  Then she squinted her eyes to read the words written on the ribbon in the eagle’s beak.

  “Semper fidelis—always faithful,” she whispered, her eyes serious.

  I nodded. I wanted to tell her that I’d never stopped loving her, although I wasn’t sure that was entirely true. She’d haunted me for so long, there were times when it had felt more like hate than love. I was one fucked up mofo.

  She pressed her lips over my tattoo and then lay back on the bed, pulling me toward her. This time there was no uncertainty in her eyes, and I pressed her down into the mattress, kissing her hard. I let myself reach up to touch her beautiful breasts, my fingers roaming over the firm flesh, gliding my fingers under her bra and teasing the nipples until they were rigid.

  I snapped her bra open easily and pushed the shoulder straps over her arms, tossing the lacey scrap of material onto the floor.

  I tasted her, grazing my teeth over those tight little buds, hearing her biting out a moan of pleasure as she arched her back. I hooked my hand underneath, half lifting her off the bed.

  She responded by dragging her nails down my spine, making me hiss with an edge of pain. My hips ground against her and I sucked the skin on her shoulder, biting hard enough so she could feel my teeth.

  Her hands were all over me, and I was lost in the sensations of everything she was doing, but then she slid her hand inside the front of my jeans, and squeezed hard enough to make me see stars.

  “Fuck, Caro!” I groaned.

  Taking her lead, I pushed my hands underneath her waistband, stroking her ass, then moving to the front of her jeans and running my fingers under her panties, pulling gently on the soft curls, massaging her in slow circles, letting my index finger drift lower.

  A woman didn’t have to go bare to turn me on. Maybe because Caro had been my first, I’d always had a thing for manicured pussy. I’m not saying I liked an 80s bush, but completely bare was always something of an anti-climax. Just sayin’.

  When I realized how wet she was, I nearly lost it; instead I forced myself to have some fucking control, and moved my fingers in and out slowly, building her up until she was crying out and moaning.

  That just about finished me. I sat up quickly and unzipped her jeans, hauling them roughly down her legs, before catching my fingers through the fragile fabric of her panties and tossing them to the floor.

  Now I had her naked, I touched her everywhere without apology: her chest, down her stomach, across her hips and along her thighs. Then I went for her sweet spot with my index finger, pressing hard, back and forth. Target identified, take aim…

  She groaned, and pushed my hand away.

  “No. You. I want you,” she gasped.

  Oh fucking yeah!

  I unzipped my pants and stood to let them drop to the floor, but before I could lie down again, she knelt up on the edge of the bed, pushing her breasts into my chest, and grabbed a handful of my ass. Then she tugged my briefs down my hips and finally my dick was locked and loaded and ready for her.

  She licked her lips in a way that had me breaking out in a sweat, and I bit back a groan as she ran one hand down my shaft and squeezed my balls with the other.

  “Fuck, Caro!”

  She rubbed the thumb over the sensitive head of my cock, and I couldn’t help the shudder of pleasure that flooded through me.

  I was one second from throwing her down and plowing into her, but then I remembered something pretty fucking important.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  She shook her head, a disappointed expression on her face. “I don’t usually have a need for it. Please tell me you have condoms, otherwise ‘making out’ is all we’re going to be doing.”

  Did she really think I was unprepared? I bent down and pulled a pack of condoms from the pocket of my leather jacket. Oo-rah!

  “Just wondering,” she said, glancing up at me, a small smile threatening to break into a full-on grin, “but when did you buy them, or are they old stock?”

  “Nope, new packet,” I said, and tossed her the small box. “Check it out.”

  She toyed with the packet for a moment before looking up at me.

  “So, no need
to practice putting one on then?”

  No way, baby. I knew she was teasing me, reminding me that as a horny 17-year-old, I’d admitted to her that I’d practiced putting on a condom so I’d be good to go if and when we ever got it together. Even then I’d been the poster boy for latex. I guess you could say I’d been wrapped and ready ever since.

  “Well, I haven’t practiced that recently,” I said, challenging her with a look, “but I think I can remember what to do.”

  “You’re avoiding the question,” she said, her own challenge evident in her voice. “When did you buy these?”

  “Second day of the hostile environment training.”

  Her mouth dropped open with surprise.

  “But you were still mad at me then!”

  “Didn’t stop me wanting you,” I replied truthfully.

  She shook her head even as she smiled.

  “Hmm, well. Let me see if I can remember what to do.”

  My smile was pretty damn big by now, and I stood in front of her with my hands on my hips, my dick making his own feelings pretty damn clear.

  She tore open the box and pulled out a foil packet, running it down my length, and smacked it against the tip, making me jerk back.

  “Whoa, careful!”

  “Wimp!” she laughed “I thought you were a Marine not a mouse.”

  “Just be careful with my weapon,” I shot back.

  “Close your eyes and relax,” she said, her voice suspiciously soothing.

  “Why, what are you going to do?” I asked warily.

  “Don’t you trust me?” she smiled.

  “Not with that look on your face,” I muttered, but closed my eyes anyway.

  I heard the foil being ripped and I was expecting to feel her hands on my dick, but it was her warm, wet mouth that surrounded me, making my eyes fly open in surprise.

  “Fuck!” I hissed, as she stroked me up and down, sucking gently.

  I rested my hands on her shoulders, hoping my knees didn’t give way, and couldn’t help flexing deeper into her throat. She pulled back slightly, unwrapping her lips from her teeth, and making every part of me tremble. She sucked harder, and I was close to losing it.

  “No, baby,” I hissed, clenching my jaw. “I want to be inside you.”

 

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