Her thighs pushed wide open, her shorts had ridden up, pinching and pressing. The momentary pain did nothing but steel her breath, bait her for his touch. She needed this and flexed against him, trying to both alleviate and exacerbate the torturous swirls deep inside.
Her hands reached between them, found his belt clasp as he popped the button on her shorts, ratcheting her excitement up even more. They were on a mad dash. It was uncontrollable and incredible. His hands ripped up her silk shirt, pushing past the barrier of her lace bra. Never did she think they’d have sex in a car minutes after landing. But who cared? He was her husband.
Oh God. Brock’s fingers cupped her breast. Massaging. Squeezing almost painfully tight. Pleasure and pain were what she craved. His fingers found her erect nipple and grazed over the tip. He teased and toyed while he loomed over her, rubbing his impressive length against her on the cramped confines of the back seat.
The man was huge. Smooth, beautiful steel. Perfect shaft. Perfect crown. He took her breath away after years of sucking, screwing, and dreaming about him.
He abandoned her nipple, snatching the fabric of her bra cups and dragging it below her breasts. Freed of their constraint, they reached for him and his head dipped. His mouth just as aggressive as his hand had been. He lavished her other mound. Biting, tormenting. Scratching his teeth over the fleshy weight until he found its center and drew her deep into his mouth.
Her body clenched. Senses roared to life, a tornado of climax building within her, traveling from nipple to clit. A sudden ambush of his fingers pushed past the lace of her thong and delved into her deeply. A welcome, violent intrusion.
“Yes,” fell from her lips. Her legs spread wider as he pumped his hand. His mouth abused her tit until she catapulted, screaming, moaning, crying in ecstasy.
“More.” He roared against her skin, pulled his hand free, and shucked her shorts down her legs. So fast, so abrupt the zipper scratched her thigh, and her shorts remained looped around an ankle. She pulled free the clasp of his buckle, yanked his pants down the solid slope of his ass. Hard and muscular, she dug her fingers into his flesh as he slammed into her. Pushing his cock deep inside, her body easily accepted his spear. All the way to the hilt, his sac slapped her as he entered and withdrew and pounded again.
“Fuck me, angel.”
Her eyes flew open. His face pure alpha. Smoky eyes blazing. Deep concentration straining on his face. She succumbed to the all-powerful look, melted into his complete ownership. One leg wedged against the back seat, the other wrapped around his driving thighs. She met him, matched him, stroke for stroke.
They spiraled higher together. Sweat soaked, moans grinding through kisses and bites. He gripped her ass, and deeper he drove, until she was blinded with need. Unable to see anything other than the onslaught of a terrifyingly powerful climax.
It hit her more strongly than she expected. Muscles spasming. Lungs heaving. Reaching for heaven and knowing it was in her arms. He buried deep, hot seed spilling into her. Penetrating her will. Marking her as his. This was what she wanted. More than they’d ever had. More emotion. More power. More strength. It pummeled her into a heaping, uninhibited mess as she rode her wave on his shaft, coming down in a wonderful, near-painful way.
Brock collapsed, crushing and holding her. Breathing against her, into her, for her.
Tears welled in her eyes. Unexpected. “I’ve missed you too.”
***
Eyelids sliding closed, muscles unflexing, Brock inhaled deeply. Summer and sunshine. The woman he feared he’d lost forever, the one he still had so much to learn about after so many years together, clung to him.
He sat up, righting both their clothes, and pulled her onto his lap. “You good?” Not knowing what else to say, he figured it had to sound better than what now?
“Good.” She made a breathy, sated sound. “That was hot.”
A half grin curved up, and he gave a chuckle. “Yeah, it was, angel.”
“Different.”
He ducked his chin to press his lips on her forehead, letting them linger until she pulled away. “True.” They’d always had fireworks, but that’d just been TNT doused in gasoline.
“You think I’m crazy?” She wasn’t looking at him but out the tinted window. A cloud of uncertainty settled over her expression.
Cupping her chin, Brock drew her focus back inside. “Why would I think that?”
“Because one second, I don’t want to be married anymore. The next I’m asking for this.”
I bet she’s totally confused right now. She probably felt erratic, bouncing from one emotion to the next. He’d practically needed a Xanax prescription after she’d walked out, but she’d been through worse, completely unprepared for it. “No, angel. Far from crazy.”
“Why not?”
Reasonable question. She could be sensitive to anything he might say and react differently than either of them wanted to. But Sarah had also been upfront about her needs, and from the admittedly small pieces he knew of traumatic stress recovery, she deserved to hear how he saw the truth, even if it was handled with kid gloves.
He needed a solid minute to recover from their back-seat escape. “Give me a second.”
He jumped out of the Hummer, found the driver, then returned. No telling how this talk would go, they might as well have it on the road where she wouldn’t leap out and run.
The Caribbean air cleared his head, centered his goals. Rebuild our trust, reconnect our marriage. Moments later, she was nestled back onto his lap, their luggage safely stowed, and the Hummer was looping S-turns on a pocked road.
Where to begin? “The only reason you might be crazy is for putting up with me all these years. Imposing restrictions on our family. I’ve been a dick—”
“Not a dick. I easily could’ve questioned why and how we lived.”
“But you’re not crazy. Not for lashing out at me. Blaming me.” He brushed a lock of her hair off her cheek. “Hurt like hell though.”
The passing landscape caught her attention again, her discomfort evident. “I feel stupid. Everyone knows that I walked out. Just took the kids and left.”
“Everyone being Titan?”
“And their wives.”
“Trust me when I tell you, no one’s calling you names. I walked away from Titan. I was disloyal. If they have something nasty to say, it’ll be about me.”
“I’ve stayed in touch with Nicola and Sugar. I think they like me.”
“You’re easy to like.” His lips pressed a kiss to her shoulder while his heart squeezed. Of course they’d like her, and she never should’ve been so isolated to begin with.
She rocked a laid-back personality, always made him smile, and Sarah could run with the likes of Sugar and the Titan ladies. Not easy to do, but his wife could. No problem.
“We were so sheltered. Why didn’t you ever introduce me?”
Sheltered. The word stung. Before, it’d seemed like a practical defense strategy. Now, it seemed overbearing. “Everything got complicated. Recently and quickly. All of us were single. Married to the job.” He frowned, analyzing his poor rationale. “God, it’s been years since Jared started Titan. When we first hit the road, mission after mission, we accomplished a lot of good, taking out a lot of bad.”
She nodded as he summarized the last decade on the job.
“I met you, angel. Fell fast. Hard. You’re my world, my best friend, the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever set eyes on. I didn’t want to put a bull’s-eye on your pretty little forehead. I saw bad things happen to decent people; I’d made a lot of enemies. I never wanted that for you. Sure as fuck not for our girls. It seemed safer to bubble-wrap our life. I’d be home, things would be normal. I’d be gone, you did your thing. A protected existence.”
“But Nicola and Sugar? And Mia? They’ve got kids. I think.”
“They’re all new additions. It’s all happened so fast. And I never thought about it. Besides, how would that go? Well, look, here’s my wife. I’ve got one too.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “That sounds ridiculous. It just never came up, and I liked you safely away from that side of me.”
“That seems…” Her hand waved in the air, reaching for a lost word.
“Selfish. I see it now. What I did to protect you girls only made things worse. You’re my family. And Titan’s my family too.” At least they were. “You should’ve been part of that. Now I’ve lost them and am hoping to God that I haven’t lost you.”
She bit her lip.
“Angel, I’m not dumb enough to think hot sex in the back of a Hummer and a revelation about PTSD will bring you home. But it’d be a lie if I said I didn’t hope it did.”
She scanned the back seat, finally settling back on him. Her fingers twisted in her lap. “I’m going to see a counselor about that. The PTSD.” Her cheeks pinked, and he wished a serious screw could banish the negativity that came with mental blocks.
“Nothing wrong with talking to a pro. You lived through an awful experience.”
“I held it together for the girls. Too many young kids in the room to let me fall apart.” Her soft voice cracked. “I tried to pretend we were on vacation.”
“And for that, I’m grateful. Strongest woman I know.”
She scoffed. “Not really. There’s a big difference between pretending to be on vacation for the kids’ sake and hiding parts of myself from my husband because I didn’t push myself. That’s weak. I hid behind the excuse of ease.”
“You thought I’d judge?” Would he have? No. Not a chance. Especially when it came down to anything in the bedroom.
“No. Not judge.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know…” She shrugged. “Do you have any secrets?”
“From you? No.”
Her brows bounced once, drifting down, sadly. Disappointed. “Oh.”
Was the disappointment in him or herself? He didn’t know. He wouldn’t call what he kept private secrets. Just thoughts he hadn’t shared. Which was… a secret. Hello, genius. “Well, that’s not true. I had my own secrets, I guess.”
Her eyes lit up, hopeful. “Tell me.”
“I mean, I don’t have some amazing talent that I’ve kept hidden.”
She batted his chest, and it was the first time that a warm smile had crossed her lips since they’d started the drive. Secrets weren’t secrets because he had something to hide. They’d just found a groove throughout years of marriage and kids. Asking for something bigger, stronger, more intense seemed unnecessary.
He wasn’t any damn good at sharing. But Sarah wanted it. He exhaled heavy thoughts. This rebuilding-reconnecting stuff made for some uncomfortable moments. He rolled his shoulders and readied to flounder his way through. Only another hour and a half to kill recouping and rehashing until they reached the resort. And their private room. It had a hot tub and a private pool…
He cleared his throat and channeled his inner emotive dude. “Jokes aside. I know you wrote it all in your notebook—you’ve never been one to keep your mouth shut when you want something—but reading those words, knowing… this assertive thing…” Nothing he said sounded like how he felt.
But she blinked, eyes acknowledging. “I wanted something new and told you.”
“Yes.” Exactly. “Things have always been hot. I’m not complaining. Never complained. Swear.” He crossed his heart.
She laughed. “I should’ve given you my honey-do-me-this-way list years ago.” Her fingers smoothed the collar of his shirt where she’d pulled earlier. “Tell me something you want. Or like. Something that’d surprise me.”
Like what? Think. “I like you direct. Explicit.” There. That wasn’t hard. Not specific, but it was fun, and he liked it. A lot.
“I want you to pick me up in a bar. One-night stand.”
Remembering the notebook, he nodded. “Bucket list, action item number seven. Got that one penciled in.” He squeezed around her waist, loving the change in her demeanor. “See, I’m good with specific, strategic plans.”
“Seduce me. Screw me. Gimme a different name.” Her voice transitioned into something sexier. A low vibration. A caressing sound. “Pretend you’re meeting me all over again.”
“Keep talking, angel. I’m listening.”
She shook her head, tapped a finger against his pec. “Nuh-uh. Your turn.”
Right. His turn. She’d had way more time to think about this, and her ideas were way more creative than anything he could come up with. “Thinking.”
“Spit it out. First word that pops in mind. Now.”
“Rope.” Rope? Where had that come from? But visions of tactical rope, rappelling line, strong and sturdy, colored his sudden naked fantasy of her in bed.
“You’re going to tie me up? Done. Better find a hardware store on the lovely island of Saint Lucia. Next?”
All right. This was fun. “Not my turn. You.”
“You’ve seen my list.”
“But I haven’t heard it. That seductive thing going on with your voice is going to get you a round two in this back seat. Whether the driver’s here or not.”
She bit her lip, traced it with her tongue. “Sex tape. So next time you’re on the road, I won’t be by myself.”
He’d read sex tape. But to hear her say it. Holy hell. Reality struck, and his cock jumped to attention.
Too bad he wasn’t going out on a job anytime soon. Titan was done with him. Deservedly so. And he didn’t want to join another team, though he craved the adrenaline fix and didn’t know how to do much except for fly jets and handle C-4.
But a sex tape. He’d volunteer for sex tape duty, no questions asked. He’d volunteer this second. Her weight shifted, and he could’ve crawled out of his skin for wanting her so bad.
“Did I lose you?” Sarah’s freckled nose wrinkled.
“No. Just thinking.”
“Give me another one, Brock.”
Ropes. Sex tapes. And… “Hot fudge and vanilla ice cream.”
She bit his earlobe then licked down his neck. “Someone’s going to have a lot of shopping to do while on vacation.”
Before-Sarah was fun. More-Sarah rocked his world. “Rope and ice cream. Maybe the best things you’ve sent me to the store for.”
The Hummer pulled up to a resort, winding to the front reception area. The concierge could hook him up. Might look twice at his shopping list, but he wasn’t about to leave Sarah for long. This place was nice enough that they’d get what they asked for, no questions. And it was adults only. Surely the concierge had seen a rope, ice cream, and video camera request before?
A bellboy unloaded their bags. Brock meandered to the front desk, knowing exactly how the next few hours of their island getaway would go.
“Checking in. Reservation under Gamble.”
From behind him, Sarah wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning into his back. Felt good to have her with him, relaxed and unencumbered by their recent history. He snaked his palms over her forearms, covering the clasp of her hands below his stomach.
The woman behind the counter shoved slips of paper at him. “Mr. Gamble. You’ve had several emergency messages left from a man named Jared Westin.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brock’s stomach bottomed out. Emergency phone calls? Plural? He knew Jared like a brother. An estranged brother—and that killed Brock—but nothing he could do to change that. Bet Jared was pissed Brock never answered his cell phone. But it sat at home, after not charging it for weeks.
Still standing at the reception desk, Sarah’s bear-hugging arms had tensed around his torso. Last thing Brock needed was for her to freeze up and have a flashback. No telling what might be a trigger, but Jared and emergency messages sounded like it might.
She stepped to the side, eyes wide. “It can’t be the kids. They’re with my mom. But I’ll call and double-check.”
No. It wouldn’t be the kids. If something had happened to his kids, Jared would’ve jumped on a Lear jet and beat their commercial flight to Saint
Lucia. He would’ve told Brock face-to-face. Jared was a dick, but of the honorable type.
“I don’t need to call him back.” Though what circumstances would make Jared track him down and pick up the phone? Whatever. Didn’t matter. Brock was here to rehash and rebuild, to make sure his wife came home again.
Her head tilted. “You can’t ignore an emergency call.”
“Sure I can. Dude probably’s just giving me a heads up—” he cut himself off. He was going to say something about retribution, but that wouldn’t help Sarah and her PTSD. “A head’s up on… I don’t know.”
“So call him.”
“Nah.” Brock shook his head, pulling her close. “Nothing good will come of it, and I’m here with you. For us.”
Sarah stepped to the resort counter. “I’ll take the messages. He’ll finish checking us in.”
The girl behind the counter gave an unsure smile. Jared had probably put the fear of God in her with each phone call, and if Brock wasn’t half-interested in returning the calls, she might be blamed. Can’t subject the poor girl to Boss Man’s attitude. “Fine.”
A few minutes later, they were in a swank suite, and nothing about his ice cream and rope shopping list would happen anytime soon. Sarah paced. She’d checked out the room, remarked on the awesomeness of it all, but her demeanor had shifted, and screw Jared for that.
“So, you wanna…” He shrugged. Pool. Hot tub. Ice cream. Where did he want to turn the conversation when the mood had clearly been assassinated by the Titan Group’s head honcho from a thousand miles away?
“Call him.” She slapped her hands to her hips and jutted an adamant chin. “I’m concerned. Curious. For heaven’s sake, Brock. Multiple emergency messages. Call him.”
“We didn’t part on the best of terms.” He scrubbed his face with a hand and stared at the hotel room phone, willing it to combust. No such luck, and Sarah was right. “Fine.”
He dropped onto the bed, and she joined him. Inches away, but miles in thought. Not how he thought they’d spend their first moments in bed in Saint Lucia.
“Call him,” she urged again. There was that bite of her lip. Nothing aroused or excited on her face; it was pure nerves.
The Titan Series 1-3 Boxed Set Page 83