His jaw tightened. She could almost hear his teeth grind together as his breath hissed out.
Exulting in the age-old power she held over him, Pam trailed her fingers between the valley of her breasts, down her stomach to her navel. Then further to the waistband of her panties. She slid the denim and the lace down her legs and kicked both aside. She held out her hand.
When he placed his in hers, she molded his palm to her breast. “I think three years is long enough to wait, don’t you?”
His deft fingers explored. When his thumb brushed back and forth over her nipple, she sucked in a shuddering breath, then bit her lip. He didn’t stop the sensual torture until the peak was hard and tight. Then he lowered his head and sucked it into his mouth.
Pam locked her knees and grabbed the back of his head. His closed teeth grazed the achingly sensitive tip, and she forced back a small scream. He flicked his tongue rapidly over the peak. Her legs gave, and he used the motion to tumble them both onto the bed.
Despite the sensual haze clouding her mind, a tiny part of her brain remembered she’d been denied earlier. She wrapped her hand around the thick length of his erection. Her thumb grazed the tip. His hips bucked, and he released her nipple. A hiss of breath escaped his lips.
He rolled her beneath him, then bracketed her head with his forearms. His blue eyes were lit with desire and something infinitely more powerful. Her heart expanded in her chest until she thought it would burst. He brushed the hair away from her face and placed the most tender of kisses on her lips.
So at odds with the raging need burning through her and the heavy weight of his arousal between her legs. Unexpected tears pricked her eyes.
“Three years is a long time to wait, but really, it’s been much longer than that. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. For this moment. For you to complete me.”
Peace and contentment, a symbiotic counterpart to the desire, flowed into the deepest reaches of her soul. “I love you, Tyler.”
With a quick flex of his hips, he thrust inside her. She took in the full, throbbing length of him, and then they both stilled to savor the moment of bodies joined along with hearts.
Soon, nature, instinct demanded movement. He pulled out slightly. Pushed back. Again. And again. She shifted to join in the sensual rhythm he set.
A sizzling current sped through her veins. The intensity strengthened as spiraling corkscrews centered in ever tightening circles in the nerves he brushed with every thrust and withdrawal. Until finally, she exploded in a burst of color and heat and moisture.
“Tyler.” The cry tore from her lips as the streaks expanded into her trembling limbs.
With one last powerful surge, he buried himself deeper than before. His release shuddered through him to join the end of hers, until there was no beginning and no end, no separation, just the two of them as one. The muscles beneath her clutching hands tautened, then relaxed. His breath blew hot and harsh against her neck.
Pam wrapped her arms around him and held him close to the thundering beat of her heart.
It could have been minutes or hours or days before he stirred. He kissed the side of her neck, then shifted his weight from her.
She rolled with him, unable to bear even the slightest separation, when one of a different kind loomed so close. She closed her eyes, reliving and memorizing every delicious and tender moment they’d just shared.
Tyler hugged her to his side and kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”
She traced the scar on his ribcage. How many more would he have when he returned home? Tangling her fingers through the ball chain, she clasped his dog tags, warm from the heat of his body, in her hand.
Nothing had changed. And yet everything had changed. Thinking about Tyler and the danger he was in each and every day wouldn’t be new. She’d been doing it for three years. Thinking of her husband in a place filled with war and turmoil was enough to make her heart stop.
Sharing him with Uncle Sam would be one of the hardest things she ever had to do in her life. But she’d be brave and take courage from Tyler’s example. After all, she was the wife of a Marine.
The few. The proud.
Epilogue
“I can’t see him, Mommy. Where is he?” Kyle strained in Pam’s arms as he looked out over the crowd amassed on the tarmac. The commercial jet had landed fifteen minutes ago, and Pam’s heart thumped as loudly as the reverse thrust of the engines that had slowed the plane. The Marines, individuals not distinguishable at that distance, had filed off the stairway to turn in their weapons before greeting their families.
“We’ll see him soon.” Anticipation made her tremble. Soon. Tyler would be in her arms. Safe and whole.
Around her, the air buzzed with tangible excitement as dozens of other military families—wives, children, parents—waited for the first glimpse of their loved ones.
No less anxious than Kyle, Pam scanned the sea of people in search of the longed for familiar face.
“There he is!” Kyle pointed.
Pam’s breath caught. Sure enough, Tyler emerged from the throng and strode toward them: proud, strong, determined, and wearing the biggest smile she’d ever seen. The sun shining from a brilliant California sky became all the brighter.
“Put me down.” As soon as his feet hit the ground Kyle took off. He caught Tyler in a hug around the knees that would have felled a lesser man. “Daddy!” The word made her heart go mushy and sticky like cotton candy left in the sun too long. Kyle had easily adapted to the name through weekly Skype visits. Would he even remember the time in his life without Tyler?
Despite the pack hanging from his shoulders, Tyler swept him up. “Hey, buddy.” But his gaze never left hers.
Then, finally, he stood before her in his desert digital camo fatigues. So real, yet at the same time so larger than life. She blinked away tears.
“Hey you.”
“Hey yourself.” Pam’s voice caught. He wrapped his free arm around her. With her face pressed into his chest, she breathed in his scent, his essence, savoring the sweet flavor of homecoming. The beauty of Mother Nature paled: joy burst into glorious light within her.
For endless moments the three of them stayed locked in the embrace. Until she couldn’t stand not seeing his face for another second. She leaned back in his arms and smiled. “Welcome home.”
Tyler brushed the moisture from her cheek with his thumb, then tilted her face to kiss her. It started out soft. Tender. A stirring in her soul. Then it built, taking the rest of her body along for the thrill ride. She pressed closer, until only the thin barrier of their clothes separated them. Would he be able to tell?
“Ow. You’re squishing me.”
Pam laughed through her tears.
Tyler joined in. “Sorry, pal.”
Kyle wrapped an arm around Tyler’s neck. “We missed you, Daddy.”
“I missed you too.”
The crowd around them was rapidly thinning as the reunited families made their way toward the building. “Where to?”
He took her hand. “Someplace I can get a good ol’ American burger and fries. After I change.”
“Sounds good to me.” A warm gust of wind scattered her hair and plastered the cotton sundress to her frame.
Tyler jolted to a stop. His gaze lingered on her midsection, then rose to hers. Shock filled his eyes. “Keeping secrets again, are you?”
Pam cupped his face in her palm. “Not really a secret, more like a surprise. I wanted to tell you in person. Not in a text or a video chat or on the phone.” She stroked the white lines of his scars. “Are you angry?”
Tyler shook his head. “Angry? No.” A bemused smile crossed his face. He slung an arm around her shoulders. “Just wondering if I’ll always return CONUS and find you pregnant or with a secret child of mine.” He kissed her.
“Maybe.” She grinned at him. “If we’re lucky.”
A word about the author…
Debra St. John has been reading and wri
ting romance since high school. She always dreamed about publishing a romance novel some day. Her dream came true when she started writing sultry romance with spunky heroines and sexy heroes for The Wild Rose Press.
Although she’s a country girl at heart, she lives in a suburb of Chicago with her husband, who is her real life hero.
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Fourth of July at the Corral Page 7