Love Bites: Five original stories edited by Lori Foster Love UnleashedMane HavenMolly Wants a HeroDog TagsSmookie and the Bandit

by Lori Foster

  His pupils widened with awareness. Arousal. “Yet. I can see you’re about to say no, and that’s not the right answer.”

  “Do tell why you get to decide my answers.” She crossed her arms under her oversensitive breasts.

  “Your response tells me you enjoy it when we kiss. A lot.” He grinned unrepentantly. “So do I, in case you were wondering.”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  “That’s exactly the point.”

  “Whatever flirtation we had while you were overseas was just that, a flirtation.” Would she believe him if he argued? “It was your escape from the war.”

  His eyes went serious. “What was it for you?”

  And in that moment, she realized she had the power to hurt him as much as he could hurt her. She quit worrying about protecting her heart and spoke with total honesty. “Those times we spoke online, the Skype sessions…”

  “Skype dates.”

  “Okay, I’ll concede to them being cyberdates.”

  “Monogamous cyberdates.”

  How could their conversation have turned so intimate in a park full of people? The safety in knowing they couldn’t take things further also led them to share more…as it had during the times online?

  She swallowed hard and forged ahead. “Those times offered me an opportunity to walk again. Even if just in theory.” She refused to cry, damn it. “But I’m back to reality now. This is like starting over getting to know you.”

  “I disagree.” He sketched his fingers along her forehead, and her eyes slid closed before she could stop herself.

  The roots of her hair absolutely tingled. “Brody…”

  Was that husky moan hers?

  His broad hand cupped her face until she looked at him again. “Leah, you can keep trying to brush me aside, but until you give me a good reason—one that has nothing to do with that wheelchair—then I’m not giving up. You want us to spend more time together, getting to know each other better? I’m very cool with that.”

  Chapter Four

  The Gulf of Mexico stretched out in front of him for his day of fishing with Leah. He’d chosen to join the air force rather than the navy. He loved to fly. But that was his job.

  This, the water, fishing, his houseboat offered his recreation. Enjoying a plateful of the day’s catch, peace all around him. Today was even better than normal, having Leah at the table with him, their dogs asleep on the bow.

  His houseboat wasn’t large—only forty feet—but he’d never had much cause to stick around long. He had everything he needed in two small rooms. One with a sofa and kitchenette, the other with a double bed. Advanced technology made it easy to hook up his computer and TV for the ultimate man cave. He could also grill outside, and his one decadence? On the top deck, he had a hot tub on the upper command bridge.

  They’d spent an easy afternoon out here fishing. Through the day, he’d monitored two rod holders, while she kept watch over one. Between them, they’d made a good dent in restocking his freezer, with enough red snapper left for supper.

  He picked at the last of the grilled fillet on his plate, his taste buds still salivating over the unexpected blend of spices she’d chosen. “You really do know your fish.”

  She dropped another lemon into her ice water, stirring with a spoon for so long she had to be stalling or prepping her answer. “I was actually in culinary school before the accident.”

  His fork clattered against his plate. “You really have been holding out information about yourself.”

  “I told you I had baking skills, and I told you about my shop. You just assumed I was only a master at dog-treat cooking.” She winced. “Although I can see how I encouraged the misconception. Should I apologize again?”

  He reached for his sweet tea, laying off the booze tonight. He needed to keep a clear head. “Do you want to apologize?”

  As she stared into her glass, her eyes took on a distant look. “Not really. The past eleven months, talking to you, the freedom to just…be…. That was amazing.” She glanced up at him with a half-sad smile. “If I’d mentioned culinary school, I would have had to mention not finishing, which would have led to questions about why I left.”

  “Then it wasn’t an act.” He swirled the ice in his glass, sounds of the night wrapping around him. Waves lapped against the side of the boat. A fish plopped in the distance. “You weren’t pretending, just leaving this out.”

  “Like letting you believe I could hop up out of the computer chair?”

  Her braced shoulders shouted bravado, but he saw the apology in her eyes for not being straight with him from the start. While it wouldn’t have changed things if he’d had the full scoop, she’d had no way of knowing that then. He could understand her reasons for holding back.

  He propped his feet on the bench across from him. “Tell me about culinary school now.”

  She sipped her water before speaking. “After my surgery, I got Monty.”

  The golden retriever lifted his head at the sound of his name, looked to her, but she made some gesture and Monty settled back to rest. The night was so quiet in their secluded cove, there wasn’t anything to disrupt them.

  “Your service dog,” Brody said, nodding toward their dogs still napping on the bow of the boat.

  “What can I say? People don’t like animal fur in their food, and there wasn’t a hairnet big enough to cover him.”

  He wouldn’t have considered that. He’d just always assumed service dogs were accepted everywhere, by law. “I’m sure there must have been a way around that….”

  “If Monty wasn’t welcome, I didn’t want to be there.” She glanced back at her service dog again, deep affection lighting her blue eyes like reflected stars. “I’m happy in my job now. Animal fur is a given at Three Pups and a Pony. I could take both Monty and Penny.”

  “That’s why she behaves better now. That’s a bonus I hadn’t expected in the fostering gig.”

  A wry smile played at her lips. “I had to teach her a few manners first. But she and Monty both are great helpers.”

  “You’re more amazing than I even realized.”

  “Damn right, I am.” Her eyes went pensive and she toyed with a gold hoop earring. “This is the strangest first date I’ve ever had.”

  “I wouldn’t call this a first date.” He felt closer to Leah than he had to anyone in his life, except maybe his crew. But then what he felt for Leah was very different. “Seems to me like we’ve been going out for months, the old-fashioned way. We talked while eating meals. Granted, I was eating an MRE in Kuwait, and you were having supper at your place in front of the computer. But we talked, got to know each other. Honest to God, you know more about me than anyone else. Still…learning about your paralysis makes me wonder about other things we discussed.”

  She leaned forward on her elbows, closer, even though they were totally alone out here. “Everything I told you about me, my life, was all true, right up to two years ago. That was my life before I was hit by the car.”

  “What about after?” God knew, he felt every war deployment changed him. Had her personal battle changed her? Had she reconciled the before and after?

  “I’m still the same person on the inside.” A long sigh shuddered through her. Her hands fell to her knees, squeezing hard. “It’s the outside that won’t cooperate. But I’m trying. Trying to find ways to fill those holes in my life left by the things I can’t do anymore. Things like running. So I swim instead, go fishing.”

  “And taking in foster dogs? Is that new?”

  “Actually, my family has always fostered shelter animals, just like I told you in our Skype chats.” Twirling a fork on the table, she stared back at him with sad, wise eyes. “Now, why don’t you ask what you’re really wondering about the accident.”

  “What would that be?” Yeah, he had a suspicion of where she was headed, but he wouldn’t risk being wrong. She needed to be the one to bring up how much she did feel below the waist. It wasn’t automatically his or
anyone else’s right to ask.

  “You want to know what everyone does. How bad was the accident? How much can I feel?” She set the fork aside, her entire attention focused on him. “Can I still have sex?”

  He stayed silent, waiting, letting her take the lead on this, even though, yes, he wanted to know. For her, so that if he was ever lucky enough to have any chance of intimacy with her, he wanted to do, to be what she needed. But first, he had to know she was okay in other ways—like in the head. She’d been in a life-changing, traumatic accident, not something that could just be shrugged off in a second.

  “Brody?” she urged, the lull of waves the only other sound.

  “Just tell me what you want me to know.”

  “Diplomatic answer. You’re such a good guy,” she said in a way that he wasn’t sure was an endorsement or accusation. “If you say we’ve been ‘dating’ for eleven months, then it’s not strange for us to have this conversation.” The gentle lap of the water filled the gaping pause.

  “Well, are you going to say something?”

  “I’m not sure you’re going to want to hear what I’m thinking.”

  “Oh, uhm, why not?”

  Time to step up to the plate for her. He shifted from across the table to sit beside her, scavenging for the right words. “You’re talking about sex and I’m still processing that someone I care about was hurt, badly.” He slid an arm around her shoulders. “Sure it happened two years ago, but I just learned about it yesterday. If I want details, it’s because I care about you, not because I’m trying to decide if we can have sex or not.”

  Because, honest to God, he already knew the answer to that.

  She sat stiffly beside him. “Remember when I told you my SCI—spinal cord injury—occurred at the L-2? It’s an incomplete versus complete. Complete means loss of use and sensation.” She rattled off the details in a flat voice, studying her fingernails. “Since mine is incomplete, I still experience some sensation and even a minor degree of muscle control. I’m able to use crutches, just not for a long time. And I can still achieve an orgasm.”

  He placed his hand over hers, covering her fingernails until she had to look at him. “Leah, it’s okay. While I want to know what happened, you don’t need to share, uh, more than you’re, uh, comfortable with telling.”

  Once her eyes met his again, her body relaxed against his side. “You said this wasn’t a first date.” She skimmed her knuckles along his jaw. “So why are you blushing?”

  “I’m not blushing.” He frowned even though his face felt warm. Had to be her touch.

  “Badass warriors do not blush.”

  She laughed. “Right. Whatever.”

  He let himself smile with her because the shadows were gone from her eyes. “Damn straight.”

  Glancing at him slyly out of the corner of her eyes, she said, “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

  He choked on a laugh, then laughed again, harder, until they both sagged back on the bench at the table. This was the Leah he knew, the easy camaraderie, the ability to make him smile even in the middle of hellish times. Now he realized she’d understood more about pain and stress than he’d known then. His hand gripped her shoulder more firmly, tucking her against his side as if he could somehow insulate her from any more of life’s harsher whims.

  She flipped her hand to link her fingers with his, but her eyes shifted back to her nails. “I’ve had sex since the accident. I needed to know if I still could. And I can. So don’t think this is a ploy for a pity lay.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Leah? Leah,” he insisted until she looked at him. “Just so you know, I haven’t had sex with anyone since we started talking eleven months ago. It’s not just because I was deployed. There are women over there, too.”

  “No one since we met?”

  “Nobody. You fill my mind until there’s no room for anyone else.” And God, wasn’t that the truth? Saying it was tougher than he’d expected, pushing the words up his tightening throat.

  “I’m not rushing or pushing for anything tonight, but you should know I want more from you than friendship.”

  “What if I had told you something different tonight? What if I’d said I feel absolutely nothing below my waist?”

  Would that have made a difference for him? Hell no. But he knew she needed the right words to convince her. “Don’t all the how-to-please-a-woman articles say most sexual pleasure happens in a woman’s head? That it’s about taking time and creating the mood?”

  “You read articles on how to please a woman?”

  He tapped her forehead, her nose. Her lips. “You’re losing focus here.”

  “What is the focus?” she whispered against his fingertip, her lips brushing him.

  Arousing him.

  He cupped her face, threading his fingers into her silken hair. “There’s a lot more to having amazing sex than part A fits into slot B.”

  “Oh really?” She angled her face into his hand, nipping the flesh base of his thumb. “And what else would that be?”

  His pulse skyrocketed—along with the possibilities for tonight. “Are you asking me to have sex with you?”

  Her hand fell to rest on his chest, her mouth a whisper away from his. “Since this is far from our first date, then perhaps it’s time for us to take things to the next level.”

  He wanted to shout, “Hell yes!” but he also wanted to be sure she meant what she said. He started to speak.

  She shook her head. “This is where you kiss me again.” Her fingers twisted in his shirt and she tugged him closer. “Or maybe I’ll just kiss you.”

  About ten seconds into the most explosive lip-lock of her life, Leah decided to take this further. All the way, in fact. She didn’t know if she and Brody had a future, but she would always regret it if she didn’t have a “now” with him.

  Here on his boat anchored in a secluded cove, they had a pocket of time away from the world. She didn’t know if he was still riding an adrenaline rush from being in combat, but she was certain he felt more for her than gratitude.

  Very. Sure.

  Her hand slid lower between them, dipping just a hint into the waistband of his board shorts and skimming over bare, hot skin.

  His abs flexed along her fingertips and he growled against her mouth, “So you truly are propositioning me.”

  “Do you want to be propositioned by me?” She leaned closer against him, her breasts achy with the need to be touched and explored by this man.

  “Leah,” he groaned into her mouth, his voice husky with unmistakable need, “I’ve wanted to be with you for months.”

  She couldn’t help asking, had to know…. “And now that things will be different than you imagined when you were thinking of this for those months?”

  Inching back, he held her with his narrowed, sexy gaze as firmly as his hands palmed her between her shoulder blades. “Are you asking if I had dreams about you? If while I was in the shower, I thought about you…”

  Confidence and fire seared her. “So I have been the object of your fantasies.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His brown eyes went molten-black.

  “Those fantasies will need to be adjusted,” she said, regretting for the first time that she hadn’t told him earlier.

  “I like creativity.” He claimed her mouth again, his hands sliding lower as he stood, taking her with him.

  Monty lifted his head from his nap and barked once.

  “Stay, it’s okay, boy,” Leah commanded before shifting her attention back to the warmth of pure man against her.

  Brody held her against him, his arms under her bottom so her feet were just off the ground. She kept her arms looped around his neck as he walked across the deck. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t drop her. In his arms, she was safe.

  Yet safe had never felt so deliciously dangerous. “Where are we going?”

  “Up to the top, to the hot tub.” He brushed his mouth along her cheek before nuzzling her ear, his five o’clock shadow rasping gen
tly. “Is that cool by you?”

  He would have to carry her the rest of the way. He was asking for more than that, actually. He was asking for her openness. He was asking for her trust. Maybe he needed that because she hadn’t told him everything before. She hesitated for an instant.

  He nibbled her earlobe. “Or we can stay here.”

  “No, it’s okay. Really…” She savored the scent of the salty air clinging to him. “You want to carry me up there, which is a romantic thing, something a lover would do.”

  “Except it’s different for you.” He backed her against the table until she could sit on the edge.

  “Yes, I just want us to be equal in this, and I can’t get up those stairs by myself.”

  “Then we decide together,” he said so blessedly simply. “Do we head for the bed? Or upstairs in the hot tub?” He grinned roguishly. “Hell, in the kitchen’s fine by me. I’m good with anywhere as long as you’re there. So you choose and I’m one hundred percent on board.”

  His sincerity couldn’t be missed any more than the heat in his eyes. And right now, she wanted it all—the man and the romanticism.

  “Carry me upstairs.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He swept her up against his chest with ease, an arm around her shoulders, the other hooked under her knees.

  Wind rolled in from the ocean, tugging harder at her hair the higher they climbed. As much as she wished she could take these steps on her own, being in his arms felt right, too. And she couldn’t deny how amazing it was to be here. Closer and closer to the stars.

  Before she could blink, he plunged them both into the hot tub—fully dressed. The warmth swallowed her.

  “Are you crazy?” Laughing, she leaned back in the corner, water sluicing just under her shoulders.

  He knelt in front of her, swirling jets frothing around him. “Pretty much, and it’s all your fault, lady.”

  The steam in his eyes equaled the heat billowing up from the water. Words evaporated into the windswept air as well, as she let herself sink into the moment. She let herself be swept away by the music of the ocean, the low hum of the tub’s jet and their breathing.