Protecting Her Heart

by Chance Carter

  Crystal blue eyes and soft, cherry red lips which matched that dress. Sweet baby Jesus, the woman made me fall apart and I’d barely spoken to her. I cleared my throat and broke eye contact. “Thanks for that, Jack.”

  “Holy shit,” he whispered, as the music picked up again. A Shania Twain classic, this time. “It’s her. It’s the hot chick. You’ve got to bang her. Show her a good time.”

  I glanced in her direction, but she was caught in what appeared to be an argument with her friend. The redhead gesticulated wildly. She pointed at our table while Chanel shook her head, cheeks now matching the color of that dress.

  “Fuck her, dude,” Jack hissed.

  “If you call me dude one more time, Whitmore, I’m going to drag your white ass back to base in the rain and make you run laps. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I switched my gaze back to the soldier in front of me. How had I ever been friends with this jackass. There was brotherhood, sure, but he was a creep.

  “And enough about banging women. We’re here because we’re stuck here. There won’t be any of that.”

  “Hi!” The redhead popped up beside our table, and I almost knocked over my glass. “I’m Paula. What’s your name?”

  “Jack,” he said, and extended his hand. “It’s good to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Paula,” she said, and fluttered long lashes at him. Chanel stood behind her, hovered and looked ready to run.

  “Paula,” Jack said, and shook her hand. “That’s a beautiful name. And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

  I restrained a grimace. Did he have to be such a fucking cheeseball?

  “Her name’s Chanel,” Paula said. “And I believe she already knows you.”

  “Not me.” Jack tilted his glass toward me. “But she knows him. Isn’t that right, Ryan?”

  If not for the country music and shouts of laughter from the bar, the quiet which separated us would’ve been awkward.

  “Do you like to dance?” Paula shouted over the music.

  “Sure,” Jack said.

  “Good.” She hooked her arm through his and dragged him from his seat. They set off for the tiny dance floor in the corner, Jack’s hand already seated in the small of the redhead’s back.

  I gulped down some beer to deal with the vacuum they’d left behind.

  Chanel bit her bottom lip and looked at her feet. “Well, it was nice to see you again,” she said, then turned in the direction of the bar.

  “Wait, where are you going?” I lurched forward and caught her by the wrist. The press of my skin against hers sent my senses into overdrive.

  She looked at the point of contact, then swallowed. “I don’t want to bore you, Lieutenant. Or frustrate you.”

  “You’re not doing either of those things.”

  “It sure seemed like I did them today,” she replied.

  Oh. Shit. My attitude in the store left an impression on her, all right. I had good reason for that. She was a civilian and didn’t understand my life as a soldier. I didn’t blame her for that but her insistence today definitely irritated me.

  “Sorry about that,” I grunted. “I guess I need to work on my people skills. Would you like to take a seat? I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “I – sure,” she said, and slipped in next to me. Her hip touched mine.

  Tension destroyed thoughts of conversation. Her heat filtered through her dress and my pants, and I swallowed. Couldn’t keep my mind out of the gutter. It’d been years since I’d touched a woman, let alone one as beautiful and soft as Chanel.

  “You smell amazing,” she said, then blushed. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

  “Thanks.” I chuckled. “You look beautiful.”

  She colored and shifted a little closer to me. Any closer and she’d have been in my lap. “I thought you went back to the base,” she said.

  “Yeah, I was supposed to, but the storm rolled in. Can’t drive out in this weather,” I said. Weather. That was what our conversation had come to. Why was it so difficult to concentrate? I hadn’t had much to drink, yet. This should’ve been easy.

  She was a beautiful woman, but I’d never had trouble talking to one before.

  Chanel brushed her fingertips down my arm, and my mouth dried out. Fuck that. She couldn’t have this much power over me. One touch and I’d already stiffened for her. “How about that drink?”

  She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. “There are more interesting things to do than drinking in this town,” she said.

  “Even in this weather? I heard it might snow tonight,” I replied, and tracked her fingertips as they stroked. Up and down, back and forth. The hairs on my arm stood on end.

  “Especially in this weather,” she said. “I’m not usually this brazen. Okay, I’m never this brazen, but there’s something about you, Lieutenant. I – I don’t know how to explain it.” She turned, caught my eye, and pressed her breast against my bicep.

  Jesus H. Christ. I couldn’t deal with this. I was supposed to be the responsible one. Jack and Paula were out there rubbing up on each other.

  “I like the way you say that,” I said, instead of pumping the brakes on this whole encounter. I brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear.

  Her lips parted and she made a tiny noise which was almost lost in the clamor. Her fingers stalled their passage and came to rest.

  “I’d better get out of here,” I said. “I – uh, I need to get my rest. Get back to the base tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” Chanel glanced at her friend, who was now wrapped around Jack, then nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’m supposed to be staying over at Paula’s but I’d wager there won’t be space in her room tonight.”

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  “No!” Chanel measured her tone. “I mean, no, thank you. I can’t go back there tonight. It’s complicated.”

  Did I want to know what the complication was? Was she married or something? But no, the hand on my arm bore no ring, and she was young too. Her body tight and curved in all the right places. Shit, what did that have to do with anything?

  “You can’t stay here,” I said. “I could get you a room at the motel.”

  “Get me a room?” Her lips twitched at the corners. Some of the sassiness I’d seen in the store streamed back, and I liked it. I liked her strength. “You’d get me a room to save me from spending the night listening to Paula engage in the no pants dance?”

  “No pants –” I burst out laughing. “I haven’t heard that in years.”

  She resumed stroking my arm, this time trailing her fingers over the cuff of my shirt and up to my neck. She tugged once on my earlobe. “I don’t think it’d be appropriate if you booked me a room. Besides, Mrs. Henny is already asleep at this time.”

  I couldn’t take much more of this. Each touch brought a wave of arousal and I wasn’t prepared for it. I’d never had a reaction like this before.

  Chanel seemed caught between shy and downright flirty. I loved it. It reflected how I felt about this situation. I never allowed myself a moment of pleasure, and this woman gave me just that.

  Looking at her was a vacation from the constant battle in my mind.

  Two men at the bar broke the tension between us by raising their fists. One of them – cross-eyed and red as a beet – yelled an insult. It was time to get out of there before things bubbled over. A couple guys would take the opportunity to pick a fight with a soldier.

  “Let’s talk about it upstairs,” I said. “I won’t leave you here. This isn’t a place for a woman like you.”

  “A woman like me?” she asked, eyes sparkling. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re better than this place,” I said.

  Pleasure flashed across her expression, and she hooked her arm through mine. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 5

  Chanel

  The motel room had a view of the street outside, now ice cold, the
sleet from earlier freezing on the sidewalk. I’d slipped and almost fallen on the way up, but Ryan caught me and held me upright.

  I shuddered at the memory of that touch.

  The door clicked shut behind me, a beat passed, and then he was at my back. He didn’t invade my space, but he was close enough that heat poured from his skin and caressed mine. I’d left the fluffy coat back in the bar.

  I didn’t give a shit. Paula could buy a new one for all I cared.

  “I’m not usually like this,” I said, and didn’t turn around. “I don’t just come up to strange men’s rooms and talk to them about – I don’t know. I don’t do this.” Perhaps, I shouldn’t have come.

  But whatever force drew me to Ryan glued me in place.

  “I’m not like this either,” he said.

  We spoke as if we’d already decided to take this further. My insides clenched and tightened up. Low heat spread from my tailbone inward, curling through my core, warming me from the inside out.

  My cheeks flushed and I trembled. He hadn’t even touched me, yet. I couldn’t look at him.

  “Chanel,” he said. He placed those massive hands, too big, too strong, on my hips and rotated me.

  Our eyes met and I gasped. Electric connection. Too strong. What the hell was this? “Hi,” I said, and smoothed my fingers down his arms, over the muscles of his biceps and down to those hands.

  I didn’t have other words for him. I lost the ability to articulate anything of worth.

  He tugged me a little closer, and I gasped again. He was hard. Painfully hard, and the outline of his dick told me everything I needed to know about his size. Holy fucking shit. I was in huge trouble here. Excuse the pun.

  I stammered, but nothing came out.

  “Sorry,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held a beautiful woman.”

  Once again, words failed me. I settled for slipping my arms around his neck and chaining him. Pressing my breasts to his body.

  I’d done this kind of thing with one other man, but I had the distinct impression that Ryan would ruin my memory of him. That he’d ruin me for anyone else, for that matter.

  It wasn’t just his body, his eyes, the tension connecting us. It was everything about him.

  There was something behind all of this, a deeper meaning which terrified me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Sure? I can take you home. I’ve got the truck out –”

  I cut him off by circling my hips. A slow rhythm.

  He drew breath. Eyelids fluttered. “Irresistible,” he muttered, then cupped my cheek and drew his lips closer to mine. Closer, closer, painfully close, hot breath dancing across my skin. Smell of smoke and beer, and then the heady scent beneath it all. The smell that was just so him.

  It reminded me of warm days under the summer sun. Of comfort and home.

  His lips touched mine and I melted against him.

  “Oh God,” I groaned, into his mouth. Finally, I could speak again.

  His tongue found mine and he massaged it with slow, sweeping motions. Moist and just fucking delicious.

  I sucked his bottom lip, then nibbled it, worked my hands down his back, gripping the muscles beneath his shirt. I tugged at the fabric, desperate to have it off him. I needed his skin against mine. He was so fucking hot it burned my soul.

  We broke apart. “Here,” he said, eyes unfocused. He lifted his arms.

  I grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. The sleeves hooked on those arms. And then he was topless and I lost the will to move.

  Planes of muscles, a six pack, definition I’d only seen in Vin Diesel movies and nowhere else. I quivered. “Wow,” I whispered. He wasn’t lean muscle. He was stocky and powerful.

  Ryan hooked his fingers under either of my dress’s straps. His gaze searched mine, now, checking, once again, that this was what I wanted.

  I chewed my bottom lip and gave the tiniest nod. Yes, I wanted this. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted this.

  He worked the straps over my shoulders and dragged them down. My breasts popped free, nipples puckering in the cool air.

  Ryan sucked in air. He bent in front of me and took my nipple between his lips. He licked a circle around it, then sucked hard.

  I slapped my hands onto his back and hung on. I’d never been big on breast play, but his tongue teasing my skin brought me to new heights. This was what it was supposed to feel like.

  I’d figured all the groans and moans in romantic movies were for show. Now, I got it.

  Ryan kissed a trail from my left nipple to my right, then nibbled it. Goosebumps spread from the point of contact outward.

  I was one big nerve-ending and I couldn’t handle much more of this. I needed him inside me. I jerked on his buckle, undid it, and stripped the belt off.

  Ryan growled and massaged my breasts with both hands. He gathered them together and took my nipples in his mouth, sucked hard and worked them with his tongue.

  “Oh.” It was all I could get out. I fumbled with the top button of his jeans. Finally, it popped free, and I wormed the zipper down. “Wait,” I said.

  He backed off immediately. “Okay?” He cleared his throat. “You okay?” His chest rose and fell, rapidly. He wanted this as much as I did.

  “It’s my turn,” I said. I tugged his jeans down and freed him.

  His dick throbbed, as huge as I thought it would be. Veins down his shaft and impossibly thick. He dripped pre-cum, a long trail dribbled down his shaft.

  I dropped to my knees in front of him, bottom half still restrained by my tight, red dress. I took his dick in my mouth and sucked up those juices, tasted him and was transported.

  “Don’t,” he said, and touched my shoulder.

  I looked up at him, mouth still full. My jaw ached, though I hadn’t even started yet.

  “Not yet.”

  I licked a circle around his head, just to tease him a little.

  He throbbed and thickened between my lips. “Chanel,” he growled. “Not like this.” He tugged me to my feet.

  “Why?” I frowned. He didn’t like it?

  “I want the first time to be something special,” he said, then snagged a handful of my hair and dragged me into another soul-destroying kiss.

  The first time? How many times would there be?

  I pushed the questions away and melted against him.

  Ryan walked me backward. We hit the bed and tumbled onto it, still kissing. He braced his arms on either side of my head.

  I reached down and pulled my dress all the way off, exposing myself. I hadn’t worn underwear tonight, but only because I didn’t want to show panty lines.

  Ryan pressed his forehead to mine and admired my body. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His dick throbbed against my abdomen.

  I couldn’t take much more of this. I reached between us and grasped the base of his cock, then guided it toward my slick, quivering entrance. “Please,” I said. “I need it. I need you. Please.”

  He took control from me, pressed his head between my wet lips, but didn’t enter me. “I need you too,” he replied, and his expression clouded over for a second. “Too much.”

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and bucked him forward.

  Ryan slid into me, parted my folds and pierced the warmth between my legs.

  “Fuck,” he said. “You’re so wet.”

  “Uh-huh.” I placed pressure on his ass with my heels. “More.”

  He entered me, pressed himself deeper and deeper, and pleasure sharpened with pain. He was too big, but I didn’t care. I wanted all of him. Every inch, vein, curve. God, I wanted to devour him and to be devoured.

  “Yes,” I hissed. My nipples brushed against his chest. “Oh God, yes.”

  He drew himself out, then pounded into my pussy again, no hesitation this time. “Chanel, you’re so wet. You’re so tight.”

  “Again.” I was insistent. I wasn’t in control of th
is moment and I didn’t care. I grasped both of my breasts and massaged, growling. I’d transformed into an animal for him.

  He thrust into me again, to the hilt, and we both cried out. He pulsed inside me, but didn’t explode, quite yet. “Turn around,” he said, and pulled out.

  My pussy begged for more. I followed his command and lay on my front, elbows tucked beneath me.

  He brushed my hair from the back of my neck, then bit the skin, hard.

  “Oh God,” I cried.

  Ryan forced himself inside me again, and slapped my ass, once. This was the dirtiest it’d ever been for me, and I loved it. I loved every second of him filling me.

  I gripped the sheets and looked over my shoulder at him. Caught sight of his abdomen muscles rippling with every thrust. My eyes rolled back in my head.

  He grabbed my hip and lifted me off the bed, then reached around, fingers searching. He found my clit and circled it, matching the pace with his motion.

  I bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “Oh yeah.”

  “That good?”

  “So good I want to come,” I whispered, between huffed breaths.

  “Hmm, I want you to come,” he said. “I want you to come for me.” He increased the pace, softened his touch on that raw nerve-ending, driving me to the brink. “Come for me, Chanel.”

  I jerked against him, shaking beneath the building pressure. I shut my eyes and a whimper escaped me.

  “Come. For. Me.”

  “Ryan,” I cried out, and crested the brink. Electricity shot through me, the combination of his dick filling me, stroking me, and the jolts of pure pleasure from my clit was too much. My mind blanked out. There was nothing but the moment.

  I crashed over the edge. My folds clenched around him, massaging his cock, pleading wordlessly for his juices.

  “Fuck, I can feel it,” he said, and his throat closed around the last word.

  He hardened inside me. Grew even more, if that was possible, then jammed into my pussy, one, two, three times. His dick throbbed, and he emptied himself into me in five fantastic squirts, each matching the last throes of my own orgasm.

  His fingers dug into my hips. A feral cry born from pleasure.

  Finally, he collapsed beside me, eyes shut, breathing hard. “Fuck,” he said, and palmed his forehead. “Holy fuck.” Ryan dragged me closer, positioned me on his chest, and then encircled me in his arms.