First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5

by Nicole Blanchard

  “Shut up,” I murmur against his lips.

  “Tell me if I need to stop,” he says, helping me down to the bed. “I don’t want to go too far.”

  I nod. “I will. Just kiss me.”

  I expect him to go for it, to plunder and take, but he doesn’t. I should have known better. Instead, he brushes that damn kiss on my forehead, then nuzzles down the side of my cheek as he lays me down on the bed. I have to clutch his shoulders to keep steady when the soft press of his lips travel from the crest of my cheek back to my lips. By then, I’m squirming beneath him in an attempt to get closer. I wind up draped across him, his hands mapping my back and venturing down my thighs.

  Unintentionally, my hips grind down against him, wrenching a pained groan from us both. He shifts, tracing one hand up my hip and over my ass. His fingers brush against a sensitive spot and I arch my neck against him. He fastens his lips there, flicking a path back to my lips. I focus my attention back on his mouth. I tense when his fingers dip under the material of my underwear, but he doesn’t do anything he just lays his hand there as he kisses me senseless.

  After a few minutes, my hips are pressing against him of their own violation, searching for something that I don’t quite understand.

  “Shh, baby,” he says against my lips as he turns me to lay on my back with his long, muscular body beside me. “I’ll take care of you.”

  Finally, his hand moves to cover the most intimate part of me. His fingers slide against me until he finds the bundle of nerves that makes me gasp, still sensitive from the earlier stimulation. The sound makes him stiffen in response. Guided by my sounds, he slowly works that spot until I have to press my forehead to his throat. I find myself opening to him and wrapping a leg around his hip.

  In the end, his fingers are fluttering a relentless pace against me. I’m pressed up against him as close as I can get without the two of us becoming one. We’re sharing an open mouth kiss that seemingly has no beginning or end. I can’t help the little keening sounds coming out of the back of my throat in time with each flick of his masterful fingers. My hips are working of their own accord and I can feel the thickness of him every time I thrust forward.

  Any other time, my wayward thoughts would send me in the other direction, but because it’s Jack I feel safe. For the first time, I imagine what it would be like to make love to him without fear or shame. The thought clicks something inside of me and I forget the pretense of kissing as my body locks up against him.

  “That’s it,” he says against my lips. “Let it go. It’s gonna feel so good, just let me make you feel good. Fuck me, you’re gorgeous like this. I knew you would be.” His gruff, passion-laced voice sends a shiver throughout my body. But it’s his startling admission that sends me toppling over the edge. “I love you, Sofie,” he says, softer than a whisper. I don’t need anything more than that to make the sweetest orgasm roll through me.

  I want to respond, but he pulls me up and into the bathroom where he immediately draws a bath, gentle steam transforming that bathroom into a dream world. Once the water fills the tub, he starts to tug at the button on his jeans. I let out an involuntary sound, imagining what it would feel like for that to be my hand instead of his. He slips the jeans down his hips then frees one leg and followed by the other. He tosses the jeans into the hamper, all the while, his eyes are on mine and I can’t seem to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

  Then his fingers slide beneath the material of his black briefs, and I lose the ability to draw in air. But that’s okay, because as inch by perfect inch of his skin is revealed, I no longer care so much about breathing as I do about what’s underneath.

  He slides the briefs down his legs, leaving them pooled at his feet. He steps out of them and toward me. I’d like to say that I could take my eyes off of his naked form, but I’d be lying. He is thick, and long, and incredibly, deliciously hard. My pussy tightens simply from looking at him. I can’t even fathom how good he’ll feel inside of me.

  When Jack reaches me, he takes my elbow in his hand and guides me to the seat next to the jet tub that’s still filling up behind me. The sound of the rushing water echoes off of the tile walls, cocooning us in a room full of steam and the scent of lavender.

  He kneels at my feet and I nearly groan at having him near me again. I’ve been reduced to a mass of nerves, of needs. His hands travel up the length of my legs, his short nails applying just enough pressure to make me tingle all over.

  “You are even more beautiful than I remember,” he says.

  He pulls me to my feet, and our bodies brush against each other. That single touch is enough to fan my desire to a fever pitch. He guides me into the tub and settles down first. The tub is huge, big enough that it will fit the both of us comfortably. He brings me down facing him and straddling his legs.

  It’s pure torture having his hard length nestled up against me, but I follow his lead and relax against his chest in a tub full of bubbles. I feel him moving against me, but the water and the steam and having him this close to me—at last—has me more relaxed than I’ve ever been in my life.

  Then I feel his slick hands against my back and I moan softly. He takes my hair and tucks it over one shoulder so that he can wash every inch of my back with his strong hands. The movement causes me to arch against him. Before I completely comprehend what I’m doing, I’m sliding against the length of his cock as he urges me forward with his hands rubbing back and forth over my spine.

  Overwhelmed with the enormity of my feelings and not knowing how to process them, I lift up in order to catch his mouth, needing that connection more than anything. Each glide forward wrenches a low moan from me and I get to the point where I can’t stand the aching emptiness.

  I break the kiss. “I want you,” I whisper against his mouth.

  “I’m clean,” he says. “I get tested regularly for work.”

  Suddenly shy, I look down. “I haven’t been with anyone in a long time,” I tell him. Then, wanting to be honest, I say, “Ever, aside from…” I trail off.

  His eyes widen and his hands clutch against my hips. I feel his dick jerk against me, and I look up at him in surprise.

  “You want to get out and get back on the bed?” he says hoarsely.

  “No,” I tell him, diving back in for another kiss. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

  He growls, then possesses my mouth, thrusting his tongue inside and wrenching my hips forward, making me gasp. His big hands grab my ass and lift me up on my knees. I reach down wanting to feel him, needing to feel him, and take him in my hands. He throws his head back, and I take that opportunity to taste and nip his neck.

  With him underneath me, powerless and completely at my will, I feel more powerful than I ever have in my entire life. Enjoying the feeling, I stroke his length in my hand until his hips are lifting to meet me. The water splashes in rhythm against the sides of the tub until he covers my hand with his.

  He uses the one clasped at my hip to move me forward until I’m hovering just above him. I relax down and gasp around the first delicious sting. I manage to take the thick, bulbous head of him before I lift up and then sit down, taking in his entire length. The first slide is dually painful and pleasurable.

  “Ride me,” he says. “I want to watch you.”

  He pulses inside of me and my fingers tighten on his shoulders. If it were anyone else, I would have been embarrassed, but, surprisingly, a part of me feels delightfully wicked having this man under my control, for my pleasure.

  I suck my bottom lip into my mouth as I experiment with angles and speeds. The water doesn’t allow for a lot of movement, but the restriction makes me feel even more desperate for release. Jack guides me up so that I’m on my feet above him. Then he shifts his arms so that they’re under my thighs, helping to lift me with each thrust. Penetration is even deeper this way, and I mean deep. When he adds a twitch of his hips, he bumps a spot inside that lights my blood on fire.

  Low moans erupt f
rom my throat each time he hits the spot until he focuses his movements so that he’s hitting it with each thrust. I grind down, searching for release, my hands on his shoulders, spreading my hips as far wide as they’ll go, but to no avail.

  With one hand Jack urges me forward so that my chest is brushing against his now with each movement. His soft chest hair brushes against my nipples, and I find myself purposefully rubbing against him to increase the feeling. At this angle, each glide brushes against my swollen clit and I can feel my release starting to build.

  “What do you need?” he asks in my ear. “I can hear you. You’re close. Fuck, I can feel it.”

  “Keep talking,” I say, shivering against him at the low rumble of his voice.

  “Are you gonna come for me, baby?” Then his voice catches like he’s overcome by the slick, wet glide just as much as I am. The thought that he’s as much at my mercy makes my hips inch wider until I can’t move. He notices, and he moves his lips to my ear where I can hear all the dirty, explicit rumbles in his chest. The grunts of pleasure. Then he sucks in a breath like he’s about to come and my body trips over itself to join him.

  Sounds rip from my throat that I don’t even recognize and I’ve never been a vocal person. He speeds up his thrusts until he’s coming for real, gliding in and out so achingly slow that it prologues the waves of pleasure. The sounds of us together fill the small room until the water goes a little cold and the aftershocks have ebbed.

  “You okay?” he asks, holding me close.

  “I don’t think I could possibly be better.” I yawn against his chest and he chuckles.

  “Think it’s about time I got you to bed, then.”

  He shifts underneath me to pull the plug, then helps me to my feet when they plum threaten to give out on me. He grabs a stack of towels and wraps me up in one. The puppy doesn’t even wake when we make it back to the bedroom.

  I dry off with rubbery limbs and forgo pajamas, choosing instead to slide under the cool covers. Jack steps into another pair of black boxers and I decide that they’re my new favorite outfit on him. He has an exceptional ass, powerful thighs, and manages to fill them out like they were made for him. I eye him appreciatively as he walks around the bedroom, turning off lights and locking doors and windows.

  When he’s done with that, he slips in beside me, putting an arm around my waist and pulling my back to his chest. I fall asleep wrapped in him to the sound of Rosie’s snoring in the corner.

  This life with him, the life I’d always dreamt of, all it’s crazy included, is even more beautiful as a reality.

  Jack

  “Shit.” I shoot a furious look around the gym, cursing whoever left the back door propped open to smoke again. This is exactly how vandals got in last year and trashed the place. The last thing I need is for some dipshit to come in and fuck everything up just before I list it on the market.

  The phone rings and I glance back at the door before I dip into the office to answer it. I’ve been waiting on the final call from the enlistment guys to confirm and it’s not a call I want to miss.

  A sound comes from the hallway leading from the back door, but I ignore it to pick up the phone. “Jack,” I answer, straining to hear the sound again, when it doesn’t come I turn my attention to the voice on the line.

  “Hey, asshole.”

  Recognizing the voice, I relax a hip onto the edge of the desk. “Grady. So charming. What’s up?”

  “Just your friendly neighborhood jarhead calling to make sure you didn’t puss out on the reenlistment.”

  I scrub a hand over my jaw. “And miss the opportunity to rub it in? Not a chance. I’m waiting on a call back as we speak. In fact, I thought you were them. You must have a sixth sense.”

  “Must have. Listen, I’m glad to hear it. Next thing we gotta do is find you a woman. I met this girl and I swear, I think it’s love.”

  “Yeah, I heard mention about you doing some crazy shit. Please tell me you weren’t on a dance show.”

  “Dancing under the Stars. You bet your ass. I’ll send you the link.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Don’t worry, Romeo. I’ll teach you some moves that’ll have the women flocking to your door.”

  “I don’t need you to get me a woman. I can do that well enough all on my own.”

  His chuckle filters over the line, drowning out another rattle down the hallway. I ignore it to hear his response. “Got yourself a new girl?”

  “Nah, not new. The same one.”

  “No, shit?”

  “No, shit,” I confirm.

  “We should meet up sometime before you ship out again. I’ve got someone to introduce to you and I gotta meet this girl you’ve been telling me about.”

  “Definitely. I’ll get up with Ben and we’ll make a day of it.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Talk at you later.”

  “Later.”

  I put the phone down on the receiver and wonder if I might have time before the boys are done at their friends house to take a soak in the sauna. The tension brewing in my shoulders is something wicked. My gut tells me nothing but catching the bastard before he gets to Sofie is going to relieve the festering knots, but at least it will soothe them for a minute.

  Fuck.

  I get to my feet to pace off the energy and hear another sound, a cry, come from the back door. My control snaps and I stride down the dark hall and slap a hand against the door, shoving it open.

  A keening wail erupts from the woman at my feet as she slumps back against the wall. I get to my knees, recognizing her as one of the club members, and a girl I’d slept with about a year ago.

  “Emma?” I say. I brush back her hair to try and get a better look at her face. Hissing out a breath, I rock back on the balls of my toes, the wounds on her face steal a vicious litany of curses from my chest. “Emma, honey, can you hear me?”

  She moans, covering her face with bruised and bloodied hands. I can’t tell where all the blood is coming from, and Jesus Christ, there’s a shit ton of it. Not wanting to cause her more pain than she’s already in, I take out my cell from the pocket in my shorts and dial 911.

  “Hang on, help is coming. I’ve got you,” I tell her.

  The ambulance comes and loads her in the back. Past and present collide as I imagine Sofie a few days after she was attacked. Sofie. My fingers fumble with my phone as I dial her number.

  “Hey, Jack,” she answers immediately. “I can’t really talk right now, but—”

  “Can you pick up the kids later?” I interrupt.

  “Sure, yeah. Are you okay?” she asks. “You sound weird.”

  I curse when the siren blares outside my window as the ambulance takes off.

  “Jack?” There’s an audible tremor in her voice.

  “A woman was hurt at the gym,” I say, pulling out behind the ambulance.

  “Oh my God. What happened?”

  “Baby,” is all I can manage.

  Her silence says a thousand words.

  “Don’t—” I start before she cuts in.

  “It was him, wasn’t it?”

  She was always too goddamned smart for her own good.

  Before I can answer, she says, “I’ll have the boys go to a sitter or Livvie if I can’t get one on such short notice. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I hear her speaking to someone in the background. “Fifteen minutes, tops.”

  Then the line goes dead.

  What feels like hours later, a nurse comes to my side. “Mr. Walker? She’s asking for you.”

  I toss the stale, cold coffee someone forced into my hands in the trash. “Thanks.”

  The nurse gives me a sympathetic smile. “Room 118.”

  The room is quiet except for the steady beep of the machines next to the hospital bed. After Livvie was attacked by her birth mother, I hoped to never see a hospital again and it makes my already tense shoulders draw up tight as bowstrings. Emma’s tiny form is a ball in the center of the bed, like she can’t get wa
rm enough, or small enough, to make herself comfortable.

  “Emma,” I say, keeping my voice low.

  The nurses have the lights lowered and the curtains drawn, casting shadows on everything. At first, I think it’s because they’re trying to entice her to sleep, then Emma sits up on the bed and turns to face me and I realize it’s because she doesn’t want me to see exactly how bad her injuries are.

  I don’t hold back my curse and Emma smiles, wincing at the same time. “What the hell happened? They haven’t told me anything. I followed you here. I couldn’t leave you. I know your parents don’t live in town.”

  “Thanks, Jack.” Her voice is barely more than a croak, and it draws my eyes to the dark bruises around her neck in the shape of handprints. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “The hell I didn’t. What happened to you? Who did this to you?”

  “I thought he was a nice guy,” she says.

  I sit beside her on the antiseptic-looking hospital sheets. Her left arm is bandaged with a cast and done up in a sling so I sit on her right side and take her uninjured hand. “Who?”

  “I don’t—I can’t exactly remember his name. I mean, I’m sure he told me, but the doctor’s say I’m experiencing a bit of amnesia due to the attack. Not just the blow to the head, but trauma.”

  “Oh, honey,” I say, squeezing her hand softly. She’s a client, someone I’ve seen naked, vulnerable. She meant something to me once, is still a friend now. Seeing her hurt so soon after Sofie’s confession is almost unbearable and I wonder if this is what she looked like after Damian attacked her.

  Or was it worse?

  “Anyway, it was some new guy at the gym. Tall, built, hot. This is in no way your fault. I just, I thought he was safe. He seemed nice. Said he knew you and all. That he used to work out at the gym.”

  I remember Sofie saying damn near the same thing and my shoulders hunch like I’m preparing for a blow.

  “He caught me off guard today as I was leaving the gym, must have hit me over the head with something because the next thing I remember is waking up bent over in his truck.” She pauses, scoffing. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”