by Tess Summers
Ron stood up taller.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? Tell you what–stay until after dinner, dance a little. See if your mood changes. What’s the harm in that? Besides, it will hurt Travis and Ava’s feelings if you leave before then.” He nudged the drink he was still holding at her.
She frowned, but reluctantly accepted it. “What if I’m still not having a good time?”
He winked and touched his glass against hers. “You will be.”
Chapter Three
Brenna
She looked at him with a smirk. Okay, Ron, I’ll give you that you are good looking with the best damn smile I have ever seen–even if your nose is a little crooked. And your southern drawl is sexy as fuck. Not to mention you look pretty freakin’ hot in that tux. But still! Not tonight–can you not understand I’m not in the mood?
She just found out a guy she’d dated–albeit briefly–was here with his wife, and Brenna had been nothing more than a potential piece of ass to him. She wasn’t exactly in a flirtatious frame of mind anymore.
How could Ron think she still would be?
He seemed cocky enough to believe he could win her over. She chuckled at the thought–he really had no idea who he was dealing with. Neither he, nor anyone else for that matter, was going to put her in a better mood.
Unless his name was Jack. As in Daniels.
In fact, Ron’s self-assured attitude made her want to be flippant and sarcastic, and knock him down a peg or two. Did he really imagine he even had a shot with her tonight?
Yet he did have a point. It would be bad form to leave before dinner was even served, plus, she didn’t want Ray to think he had chased her off–that would just make her look like he had hurt her. Her pride wasn’t about to let that happen.
Since Ron’s ego seemed to think she would be that easy to win over, she wasn’t going to worry about being polite. Or charming for that matter. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to flirt with him, regardless of how attractive she found him.
Brenna drained her drink and gestured to the bartender for another before turning her attention back to Ron.
“Forty-four, female, San Diego.”
“What?” Ron asked. He seemed confused.
“Oh, I just figured those were going to be your next questions. You know, Age, Sex, Location?” She’d visited enough chatrooms to know that drill. He, however, obviously had not because the joke was lost on him, and he looked at her like maybe she was crazy.
“Never mind,” she said as she rolled her eyes.
The expression on his face now suggested he might have changed his mind about wanting to get to know her after all. That wasn’t necessarily what she wanted, but she still wasn’t ready to play nice. However, she did lighten up–at least a little.
"So, Ron Thompson, what do you do for a living?” Brenna asked as she took her drink from the bartender.
“I’m in the Marine Corps.”
Yeah, she could believe that. He definitely had an air about him that said he was in charge and in control. Probably was one of those drill sergeant types you’d see in the movies.
“How long have you been in?”
“Twenty-four years.”
She nodded, acknowledging that was a long time, and begrudgingly said, “Well, thank you for your service.”
“My pleasure.” He smiled and cocked his head. “What about you, Brenna Roberts? What do you do?”
Fuck she hated that question. She was never sure how to answer it. Once she’d stopped writing, her whole identity became being Mrs. Danny Roberts, and Danielle’s mom. Even though she made more money from her movie residuals than Danny did, she’d reply that she was a wife and mother. But, being a wealthy stay-at-home mom and wife had nothing to do with running the household; they’d had hired help for that.
And now… well now, when she was asked that question, she still didn’t know what to say. She could no longer say wife or stay-at-home mom, considering her kid was a state away at school, and her almost ex-husband was dead.
She still created storylines in her head sometimes, just never full stories, and she never actually wrote them down. Lately, she’d been figuring out ways a bond trader could meet his death. Looking at that bastard now with his wife, maybe making him penniless and impotent might be even better than killing him off.
She decided writing stories in her head counted, and since she still got residual checks from movies she’d written…
“I’m a screenwriter.”
Ron surprised her by not asking the usual next question, any movies I’d know? and instead, asked her if she enjoyed what she did. He seemed actually interested if she liked being a screenwriter.
“I loved it.” She hoped he didn’t catch her slip using the past tense.
His interest softened her, and she asked, “What about you? Do you like being a Marine?”
His demeanor told her the answer before his words did. “It’s what I was born to do.”
“I think there’s probably quite a few things you were born to do,” was out of her mouth with a playful grin before she had time to think about what she was saying.
Goddammit, no flirting, remember?
Her comment seemed to surprise him but he didn’t miss a beat when he looked her up and down and replied, “You have no idea how many of them I can do quite well.”
Oh snap! Her belly did a little flip.
Was she holding her breath?
He grinned at her. “Dancing happens to be one.” He gestured to where other couples were dancing during cocktail hour.
She caught sight of Ray and his wife still at the bar as Ron led her to the dance floor, and she remembered that men were not her favorite group of people right now. As determined as the Marine seemed to charm her, she was equally determined not to be swayed. Those two whiskeys she’d had were not helping her resolve. Neither were Ron’s amazing shoulders or the strong hand she was now holding while he moved her around the floor.
As he held her at the waist, he pulled her closer to whisper in her ear, “You are breathtaking.”
She pulled back to look at his face and smirked. She wasn’t falling for another guy’s line of bullshit.
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
He stopped dancing right in the middle of the floor and lifted her chin so she had no choice but to look at him.
“Brenna, you need to understand something about me. I don’t play games, and I mean everything I say.”
The look on his face let her know he was telling the truth. She was suddenly intimidated by him and felt very small next to his large, muscular frame.
In a strangely good way.
Her smirk must have changed to a look of surprise because he chuckled when he pulled her back in tight against him and resumed dancing.
“So let’s try this again,” he said in her ear. “You are breathtaking.”
She lay her head against his shoulder and whispered, “Thank you.”
He stroked her back and she felt a smile on his lips as he murmured against her hair, “Good girl. That’s better.”
She should be offended as fuck for being told she was a ‘good girl’, so why the hell was she so turned on right now?
Chapter Four
Ron
He liked the way Brenna felt in his arms. So much so that when she leaned her head against his shoulder, he felt things jump below his belt. This woman was bringing out something primal in him. He was enjoying talking and laughing with her, but he also kinda wanted to drag her to a hotel room by her hair and fuck her until the sun came up.
He should probably stick with the former, for now.
The song ended and they made their way back to the bar to refresh their drinks before dinner. The married man was glaring at them.
“So what’s his story?” Ron gestured toward the end of the bar while they waited for their cocktails.
Brenna turned and looked, although he guessed she knew who he was referring to
before doing so, and was also met with the look of death from the man.
“Well, we went out on a few dates until he stood me up a few weeks ago, and I hadn’t heard from him since, until tonight. At this point, I’m not really sure if anything he told me is true but he said his name is Ray-mond Reitmeier,” she emphasized the second syllable in Raymond. “Apparently he’s a bond trader by day, and a whoring husband by night.”
“Where’d you meet him?”
Brenna looked a little squeamish but said with conviction, “I met him online.”
Ron looked at her, trying not to convey what he was thinking, which was, Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you?
Brenna must have read his mind because she defended herself. “It seemed like a safe way to weed people out. I even did a background check on him. There was no mention of him being married. Just a Jeanie Reitmeier who co-owns property with him, but when I asked him about her, he said that was his sister.”
Ron didn’t say anything, just subtly shook his head at her, and she continued. “Nope, not his sister.”
Glancing at the woman at the end of the bar, she groaned. “Yes, in hindsight, I’m a complete moron, but he was so charming and nice.”
She put her hands at her eyebrows as though she was blocking out the light, then starting laughing and peeked up at Ron.
“I almost want to go back over and tell him, Well played, because I honestly did not see that one coming.”
At least she had a sense of humor about it.
Still, Ron didn’t like the way the guy was staring at them, and moved his body between Brenna and Ray.
With the corners of his mouth turned up, he said, “Maybe you should just stick to meeting men the old-fashioned way. Like at weddings.”
“Why do I get the feeling that could lead to my broken heart?”
He drawled, “Oh no, darlin’. I’m going to do a lot of things to you, but break your heart is not one of them.”
*
Brenna
Fuck. Maybe she should just hand him her panties and room key now. She seriously could not remember the last time she was so attracted to a man. It was as though he oozed masculinity. He was definitely a man’s man. She didn’t think they made those anymore. Apparently they did, and one was standing right in front of her looking amazing in his tuxedo and promising to do things to her.
Her toes were curling.
Literally.
Curling.
So much for not flirting.
Brenna tilted her head and gave a slight smile. “I can’t decide if that sounds delightful or ominous.”
She hoped he couldn’t tell how fast her heart was now beating.
Ron leaned down and kissed her right below her left ear before growling in it. “It will be nothing but delightful, I promise you that.”
She tried to disguise her gasp.
Taking her hand, he led her back to her seat, where she proceeded to glance over at him every two seconds from across the table. Each time, she found him looking back at her, even while appearing engrossed in a conversation with the lovely Davenport couple. He seemed really interested in their daughters’ lacrosse accomplishments.
She, on the other hand, might have just agreed to marry Mrs. Sewell’s grandson, she wasn’t really sure.
The only thing Brenna was able to concentrate on was that handsome Marine’s infectious smile–which he was readily giving her every time she peeked over at him. She was also wondering if he looked as amazing naked as she imagined he would. And what it would feel like to be thoroughly kissed by him.
Oh my God, is dinner ever going to end?
Fortunately, she was put out of her misery when Ava and Travis cut their wedding cake and Ron brought her a vanilla slice. Sitting in Mrs. Sewell’s empty seat, he offered her a bite of his chocolate piece.
“I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer, so I got one of each.”
She placed her lips around the fork he offered and closed her eyes once the confection touched her tongue. She murmured “mmm” as she pulled her lips off slowly and opened her eyes.
“I think that’s what heaven must taste like.”
He didn’t even attempt to be subtle when he looked her up and down.
“Somehow, I imagine it tastes like something else.”
Oh.
My.
God.
Shouldn’t she be offended? He was coming on too strong. Way too strong.
But it wasn’t in a, here’s an unsolicited dick pic kind of way. It was I’m all-man and I’m claiming you kind of way.
And fuck if she didn’t want to be claimed by him.
Perhaps if she hadn’t felt the chemistry, she would be offended. Actually, she knew damn well had any other man tried that with her, she’d tell him to go to hell–and mean it. But at the moment, all she felt were her panties getting damp.
She wanted to respond with something coy and witty, but worried if she opened her mouth to speak right now, nothing more than strangled gibberish would come out. Instead she just looked up through her lashes at him and noticed his eyes seemed to match his light brown hair almost perfectly–the color of coffee with a lot of cream.
Once she was semi-composed again, she asked, “Are you sure you’re a Marine? Aren’t you supposed to have a buzz cut or something? Isn’t that a requirement?”
He smirked at her attempt to defuse the sexual innuendo. “Nope. I could wear it a whole half inch longer if I wanted,” he said as he offered her another bite of cake.
She happily accepted the forkful of decadence and sighed with delight as she tasted it.
“I have to find out who made this cake and make sure I always have one in stock. You are turning me on just watching you eat it.”
Ron’s eyes twinkled as he offered her yet another bite.
Brenna couldn’t help but laugh when she took one more mouthful then pushed the plate away and told him, “No more! I’m going to slip into a sugar coma!”
“Aw,” he teased. Standing up, he offered her his hand. “Well how about another dance then?”
Be held in those strong arms as he moves me around the dance floor? Gosh, if he insists!
Chapter Five
Ron
There were a few things Ron knew at the moment.
One, he wanted Brenna more than he’d ever wanted a woman.
Two, he needed to chill the fuck out. He was a goddamn two-star general in the Marine Corps for Christ’s sake, and he was acting like a hormonal sixteen year old boy.
And three, there was no way he could play it cool with her.
They danced, talked, flirted, and laughed well into the night, and hadn’t realized it was almost twelve o’clock until someone interrupted the song they were dancing to in order to make the announcement for guests to get their party hats and horns to usher in the New Year.
The countdown to midnight started, and they watched each other until confetti was falling down on them while people shouted, “Happy New Year!”
He took her in his arms and said, “Happy New Year, Brenna,” before leaning down to kiss her gently on the lips. He felt her sigh when he broke away.
She was looking up at him, smiling wider than he’d seen her do all night.
“What?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
She shook her head. “I was just thinking I can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed myself so much. Thanks for talking me into staying. What a great way to start the New Year.”
Ron smiled as he put his cheek against her temple and began to dance with her again. Holding her tightly against him, he whispered in her ear, “I’m glad you’re having such a good time. Do you have any idea what effect you have on me?”
“Well, if it’s the equivalent of wet panties, I’d say the feeling is mutual.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a wicked grin when he drew away and looked at her in mock surprise.
“Wet panties? I’ve only kissed you once.” Pulling her back into him, he drawle
d, “Damn, I’m good.”
Brenna looked up at him, amused at his faux arrogance. “So you keep saying. I’m starting to wonder if you’re all talk.”
He twirled her off the dance floor and held her hand as he led her back to their table.
“Get your purse,” he advised, standing next to her chair.
She silently obliged, and he placed his hand at the small of her back while escorting her out the ballroom doors.
Chapter Six
Brenna
Brenna was actually nervous as they waited for the elevator. She didn’t think she’d ever been this turned on before, but it’d been a while since she’d had sex. Even longer since she’d had really good sex. What if he was disappointed with her performance? Or possibly worse, what if she was disappointed with his?
The fact that she was aching to touch him and wet merely from dancing, flirting, and one innocent kiss told her that wasn’t going to be the case. She couldn’t wait to taste his mouth again.
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside the empty car. As if he read her mind, the minute the doors closed, he swept her up in his strong embrace and gently lowered his mouth on hers. Taking his time, he sucked on her lips before his tongue began exploring her mouth, looking for hers. Their kiss was getting more frenzied, their breathing starting to get heavier. She had just wrapped her arms around his neck when she heard a ding! and they separated as the doors opened again.
He’d almost made her forget where she was, and it took her a minute to remember her room number.
“Are you sure you’re actually staying here?” he teased as they walked down the carpeted corridor.
She went along with his kidding. “I think this is where I got ready. It looks vaguely familiar.”
He took her key card and opened the door, gesturing for her to go in first. The door hadn’t even latched, and he was holding her in his arms, brushing her hair from her face while staring into her eyes.
“My God, you are stunning,” he said before capturing her lips again with his.