by J. M. Madden
Roger blinked, then blinked again to clear the blurriness. All this damn emotion was seriously messing with his head.
Then her gaze drifted down to his shoulders. His skin prickled as she looked at the scarring. It had been several years since he’d been Medevaced out of Iraq. Most of the scars had darkened with age, but a few had puckered and pinkened. The deep, heavy ones that had been down to the muscle on his side had been grafted with skin from his opposite thigh. In that one area, he was about ten different shades of color, from very dark black to very light.
Cassandra reached out to run her fingers over the skin, feeling the surface, but he watched her face for any hint of hesitation. There was none there. Just curiosity.
“Looks like they patched it?”
“Yes,” he cleared his throat. “I have scars on my left thigh where they took the skin grafts from.”
“And how did this happen, exactly?”
She shifted back a little, then leaned forward to look more closely at his rib area.
“We were in Iraq on patrol. I was walking along side a Humvee as we cleared a small village. I had just stepped down into a bit of a ditch when the Humvee hit an IED. The blast blew fire out from beneath the vehicle and struck me in the side, knocking me about thirty feet away. My arm was gone immediately, and my side took the brunt of the fire. I was peppered with shrapnel.”
She shook her head, her fingers continuing to explore. “I can’t imagine the pain.”
Her fingers drifted up to the arm and before she could ask, he slipped the prosthetic away from the upper arm stump. He didn’t remove the sleeve, but she didn’t seem to need that. Her fingers touched the end lightly, feeling its shape and weight before moving on.
As an amputee, you sometimes settled into a casualness with your own body, especially in the company of medical personnel who dealt with injured military. They had usually seen everything during their career. He had no problem walking into a doctor’s office and exposing his stub to a room full of interns.
Civilians were another situation entirely. They usually did double takes, then either stared rudely or turned away and refused to acknowledge you any more.
Roger had never been one to be casual with his appearance. And the relief he felt as Cassandra looked back at him and smiled, her eyes clear of censure or anything negative, was pretty humbling. He’d taken more of a chance with her tonight than any other personal relationship he’d been involved in since his injury.
That was a very long time to be alone.
Roger sighed, appreciating that she was still talking to him and he hadn’t apparently grossed her out.
“Honestly, I was pretty lucky,” he told her as he replaced the prosthetic. “I had been walking right alongside the vehicle at first. Not sure what made me veer out and down. If I’d still been beside the vehicle I would have lost both my legs and probably bled out. We were a long way from any relief.”
Cassandra looked up at him again and smiled, and Roger jerked to attention. He had a beautiful woman with no shirt on right beside him, within reach, and he was rehashing history. Even though his mind was concentrating on other things, his body was still very much focused on her.
He was relieved that she was okay with him. That made everything else they had to face minor in comparison.
Cassandra seemed to sense the change in him, and quirked a dark brow. “So, if this is the worst you have to show me I think we’ll be okay.”
Nodding, he reached out to brush the side of her breast. A shiver worked through her body, and her dark nipples hardened beneath the fabric of her bra.
Cassandra grinned at him. “Keep doing that and I might have to kiss you.”
A sense of joyfulness filled him up and he felt like laughing like a child. Instead, he clenched his jaw and mirrored her look, brow quirked. “Oh, really? Maybe if I do this you’ll definitely kiss me.”
He ran a forefinger around her nipple, through the white cotton. It hardened even more beneath his touch, and he circled it a couple of times before she grabbed his hand and moved it to her other breast. “This one needs attention too,” she gasped.
He made the same movement to that nipple as well, and her eyes drifted shut. A moan drifted from her throat and he wondered what she sounded like when she climaxed.
Cassandra shifted her hips, as if the touch transferred to other areas, and Roger wanted to strip her, lay her down and have his way with her.
Shifting to his knees in front of her, he took a moment to adjust himself in his jeans, then cupped her shoulders in his hands. With a gentle nudge, she fell back against the mattress, but her gaze stayed on him.
“You might as well take those jeans off,” she told him, voice dry with humor. “I guarantee you’re not going to need them.”
He grinned, loving that she already had the experience mapped out in her head. “I will in a minute. Right now, it’s the only barrier I have strong enough to keep me away from you.”
He looked down her body, loving when she arched for him, her curves smoothing. “You have the most delectable body,” he whispered. “I have to explore every inch of you.”
And he did. As she moaned and sighed, he explored every delicious, scrumptious inch he revealed. When he followed with his lips, she cried out, shifting beneath him. Roger had to stop himself several times because his own hungry body danced on that sharp, hot edge of pleasure. Even the harsh jeans felt good against the head of his cock, and if he wasn’t careful he would rub himself raw.
When he sat her up and removed her pretty white bra, though, all coherent thought went out of his head. Her breasts were a bounty, more than his hands could hold, and her nipples were flushed dark with pleasure. When he took one into his mouth, Cassandra gasped and cupped his head to her.
“You’re going to kill me, Roger.”
Without answering, he drew on the tip of her breast even harder, then shifted to the other side. Damn, she even tasted good here. Gently biting down with his teeth, he let her know how excited he was. But Cassandra apparently loved that edge of pain, her hips shifting more sharply.
Leaving her breasts, Roger moved down her thighs, fingers hooking into the elastic of her panties. He tugged them down slowly, loving that she didn’t try to hide herself from him. As he pulled them down the length of her legs, he kissed everything he passed, forcing himself not to look at her most private cleft. He was afraid if he did he would come in his pants.
Drawing in gulping draughts of air, he forced his body to stillness before he allowed himself to look up the length of her.
Oh, God. All thought left his brain as he looked at her. In his wildest imaginings he couldn’t have drawn her any more perfect in his mind. From the tops of her soft shoulders, over the bounty of her large breasts, down the length of her tummy to the thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs, then her long, long legs, he would not have changed a thing about her. Every piece suited her to a T and fit together to make a masterpiece. She was a heart-stopping vision of beauty, and he was so humbled that she’d chosen him to take to her bed. He would revere her body like no one else ever had.
She watched him, her smart eyes luminous with need and a little caution. She had body issues as well, she just played them off better than he did.
“You are the moon in my dark night,” he told her softly. “You shine with an inner brilliance I’ve never seen in another human being and I would worship you.”
The anxiety eased in her eyes and a tear slipped down her temple. “And I will let you, because I just can’t imagine letting you go now.”
Roger left the bed and stripped off his jeans and boxers, his cock hard with need. As quickly as he could, he sheathed himself in the only condom he’d had in his wallet. Cassandra’s eyes followed him, her eyes widening a little. “Oh my God, you are beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like you. I want to taste you, Roger.”
A bolt of heat arrowed down through his cock.
She started to sit up, but he sh
ook his head. “You have no idea how close to the edge I am right now. You’ll have to taste me another time, Cassandra, because if I felt your lips on me I would never last. And I want this night, this morning, to last.”
Then, crawling up between her thighs, he gave her the most intimate of nibbles on the inside of her knee. The muscles in her leg quivered as he moved upward, kissing gently here and there, and she began to pant. She knew where he was going, but he wanted to draw out her anticipation. With the tactile fingers of his good hand, he brushed them up along the skin of her thigh, just barely tickling. Her hips shifted and her hands reached for him, but he pressed them to the mattress. Then he explored the soft cloud of hair at the apex of her groin.
Cassandra cried out, her stomach quivering as Roger eased his finger into her wetness.
Oh, damn she was so ready. In the dim light from the hallway, he could see the shine of her arousal on his finger. Shifting his body, he lay down between her thighs, kissing her soft belly, then moving down.
She tasted like the first swallow of ice water after a hard run, so sweet. He deepened the kiss, lapping at her. Cassandra gave a keening cry, her legs drawing high to allow him deeper access. Roger found her swollen clit with his tongue and, tilting his head, began to suck on the little bundle.
Cassandra cried out and arched, her body contracting in a quick, glorious, orgasm.
Roger loved the sounds she was making. Orgasms could be faked, but not this one. The almost explosive contractions arched her away from him, but he followed her, his mouth strong on her.
His cock tingled and he pulled away, panting. He refused to come like an inexperienced boy, before he’d even entered her. That would be beyond humiliating but he was right on that edge. He had a feeling that as soon as he sank into her creamy heat, he would be done.
Clenching his jaw, he rocked back on his heels, lungs billowing. When his heart had settled in his chest, he looked down at Cassandra spread beneath him. When she opened her arms to him, he couldn’t deny himself any longer. Moving over her, he looked into her eyes and knew he was a goner. She smiled up at him and lifted her legs, even as she cupped his face in her hands and drew him down. As her lips took his, the head of his cock rested at her entrance and the most amazing feeling of anticipation rolled through him. It was greater than any other feeling he’d ever felt, and as he finally sank into her scalding heat, it only got better, because he knew the pinnacle of pleasure within his reach.
Cassandra Jones had the most amazing body of any woman he’d ever met, and as she tightened her arms around his shoulders, arching up into him, he felt more connected to her than he had any other human being in his life.
“Oh, God, yes…” she sighed, panting as he slid deeply into her.
Condoms tended to mute sensation, but in this one instance he appreciated that fact. It allowed him to feel everything about her he wanted to. The soft cushion of her body, the wet heat of her pussy, the warmth of her arms around him. As she whispered into his ear, Roger shivered and rocked his hips into her. Bracing on his good arm, he lifted enough to look down at her.
Her unique eyes were luminous with pleasure, her plump lips even more plump from his kisses. They spread into a smile as he looked down at her, and she rocked her hips up into his next plunge.
Roger closed his eyes, basking in the feeling. He’d never…
Oh.
She rocked into him again, and reached down to dig her nails into his ass cheeks, pulling him even tighter.
Oh, fuck…
Roger’s mind hazed with pleasure and his world narrowed down to the force it took to pump into her body, then draw back. She rocked with him, and started making these delicious sounds deep in her throat, and long drawn out moans. Hearing that she was close again, feeling the rippling of her body, it tugged him along, their pleasure intertwined.
“Harder,” she cried out.
Fuck, yes, he could do harder.
Granting her plea was his downfall, though. The heat in his lower back that foretold his release built, and as she arched up to meet his thrusts, her movements frantic as she grabbed at her own release, he was done. With a mighty groan, hips slamming of their own volition, he lost himself in the haze of pleasure that contorted his body. Cassandra cried out with him, her body contracting and releasing in waves as she shattered.
Roger’s world spun away, the lancing pleasure focused in his groin, but he was ever conscious of her strong arms holding him to her. His head fell to her heaving chest and he tried to get more oxygen into his lungs. He needed to move off of her, before he smothered her.
Pushing his good arm beneath him, he pushed up, but she stilled his movement with her arms. “Please don’t leave yet,” she whispered.
And though he was sticky and sweaty and not so fresh anymore, he relaxed into her embrace. His head rested on her breasts and he listened to her heartbeat settle back into a lazy rhythm.
Chapter 4
For a few minutes, he half dozed there, and it was the most welcoming place he’d ever been in, her lovely arms. Finally, though, he needed to move. The condom needed to be disposed of and his ass was getting cold in the chill of the room.
Levering up, he pressed a kiss to her soft cheek, took a second to kiss the intriguing earring at the top of her ear and moved away, pulling a blanket over top of her luscious body before he headed to the bathroom. He returned within a few minutes and she immediately moved over for him to slide in behind her, spoon style. His hand went to her hip, resting there.
“You wrecked me, Roger Stottsberry,” she told him, voice husky. “I don’t think I can stand. My legs won’t hold me. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
He smiled at the back of her curly head, till she twisted around to look at him. Once again there were tears in her eyes, and the street smart, cocky personality had faded away.
“I want to be cool and put together, but I just can’t do it right now.”
He ran his finger down over her shoulder, then down the length of her arm. When he got to her hand, she turned it over and they intertwined fingers.
Roger didn’t feel cool either. Everything he’d expected to happen tonight hadn’t. “I don’t want either one of us to be cool and collected. I think that means we have barriers up between us, and I feel like we’re better than that. If this,” he tightened his fingers on hers, “has any chance of going anywhere I think we have to be as open as possible. You were very right about that.”
She blinked and a tear dripped down her cheek, then another.
“Oh, baby,” Roger sighed, turning her fully to face him. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her tight. Their thighs wrapped around each other and her arms went around his middle to hold him tight.
In this instance, he felt like he needed to reassure her, but he was getting as much out of the intimacy as she was.
“I love it that you turn to me this way,” he whispered. “But I feel guilty because you feel so good.”
She sputtered out a laugh. “I’m glad to see at least part of you is typical man.”
Leaning down, he kissed her slowly, deeply.
“Can I spend the morning in your bed, Cassandra Jones? And maybe the rest of the century?”
Her eyes widened and she clamped her lips shut as if she couldn’t contain her joy, then nodded emphatically. As he pulled her into his arms he felt the tears on his shoulder.
Cassandra edged off the bed and padded to the bathroom. Though she kind of hated to do it, she took a shower. It seemed wrong to wash Roger’s mark from her body.
But as she did wash she realized how good she felt. Frowning thoughtfully, she ran the soap over her breasts.
Her body felt fantastic, but it was more than that. She felt … lighter in her own skin. Some people would laugh at that and run their gazes over her big, beautiful bod, but she had a feeling Roger wouldn’t. He would look into her eyes and smile that perfect male model smile of his. Then tell her how she was his moon. His moon. God,
that was romantic. Even her jaded ass could admit that.
When she tiptoed into the room, Roger still seemed to be asleep. She crept to her dresser and dug out panties and a bra, then a fresh T-shirt and sleep pants with Dachshunds dancing across the fabric. Roger had closed the drapes when he’d come back to bed, and there was just enough light seeping around the edges to see.
“You are such a beautiful woman,” his deep voice rumbled from the darkness. “I know I keep saying it but every time I see you I’m hit with it again.”
Cass turned, searching out his form. He’d sat up on the mattress, sheets pooling into folds at his lap. His abs were tight as he arched into a bone-popping stretch, both arms over his head. If Roger were any other man she would think he was posing for her.
But when his gaze connected with hers again, he gave her a little sheepish smile. “I slept really good with you.”
“I did too,” she told him softly.
And it was the truth. She’d had relationships over the years, but she’d never actually slept with a man. That spoke to a trust that she just didn’t have; too many of the men she’d known were just aggressive males. But it hadn’t even occurred to her to leave the man in her bed last night. She knew Roger had her back, she could trust him to have her back, that was a new feeling for her.
She crossed to the bed and sat down next to him. Immediately, his hand lifted to caress her cheek and he leaned in to give her a good morning kiss. And it wasn’t just a peck. It was a ‘good morning you luscious, beautiful woman, I want to fuck you’ kiss.
Cass was totally okay with that. As her nipples puckered and her body began to warm, she reached out to touch him. Muscles bulged beneath her fingers, and at his sides the skin quivered, obviously ticklish. She let her fingernails run over the spot a couple of times.