"I need it. I need my world rocked again. I should have known you'd be the one to do it."
"Me?" What did she mean? Again? He'd done nothing before. "How?"
"Jake never had to fight before you came along on the wrestling team."
"How'd that rock your world?"
"Like throwing a wrench in the works--a reminder that what's worth having is worth working for." She put her hand on his arm. "You remind me that I can't be stagnant."
"Are you?"
"Getting pizza with my daughter is the highlight of my week--until you."
"There's nothing wrong with being a parent."
"Not as long as I don't forget to be a girl too." She didn't quite look at him as she spoke, her cheeks pink.
"Not a girl. A woman." He touched her chin, so their gazes met. "And you're a damn fine woman, Summer."
This time, when their lips met, it wasn't simple, it wasn't chaste kissing.
This was a real kiss--mouths moving, tongues touching, desire pulsing. He wanted her. Plain and simple. He wanted her very badly.
She reached for him, and this time, when she moaned, it didn't have anything to do with the steak.
He slipped his hand underneath the bandana she had wrapped around her hair and tugged it off. Her hair pooled in his hands, and he tangled his fingers in it as they kissed.
She broke the kiss. "This isn't working for me."
Ready to ask what wasn't working for her, he opened his mouth, but she answered the question by pushing him into his chair and straddling him.
"Uh," he said, both surprised over her move, and very turned on. Her hips rested right against his, in just that way, and he went rock hard.
She put her hands on his face. "Better." She leaned down and resumed their kiss. Tongues danced as he put his hands on her back, pressing her to him. Her curves smashed against all the right places, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He couldn't stop touching her. He needed to feel her everywhere. His hands ran over her back, her hips--he brushed where her shorts stopped and her soft skin started, and savored the feel. She rocked her hips into his, and he moved higher, fingertips grazing the edged of her shirt as he felt every curve of her side and ribs.
When he reached the edge of her breasts, he hesitated, unsure if he should continue.
Summer, however, answered that quandary by grabbing his hand and guiding it to her breast.
She shuddered in his arms and arched her back, breaking their kiss. He instead moved to her neck and chest, every little bit he could get to where her skin was exposed. She purred, which only made him harder as he caressed her breasts, feeling them through the shirt.
His other hand found the edge of her top and the sliver of skin exposed because of her position, and he stroked the bottom of her stomach.
She moaned, and when her gaze met his, her eyelids were heavy, and the rapture on her face was nothing like the one she'd had at dinner over the steak.
This was better.
So much better.
"Summer, I was wonder--Oh!" Winter's voice broke through the night between them.
Summer sort of sat up, and glared at her. "Seriously?"
"Sorry!" Winter said and darted back inside.
She brought her gaze back. "I'm sorry, it's so hard to find privacy around here."
"We need some."
She nodded. "Got any ideas?"
"Oh yeah."
"Then what are we doing here?"
Chapter Thirteen
My hands were shaking.
Seriously.
Heck, my whole body trembled as Matthew led me into his apartment. Which seemed weird, because didn't guys usually stay on the base for training?
"Why do you have an apartment?" I heard myself asking. It was out of anxiety, I knew that.
Oh wow, was I ever nervous. Which totally stunk, because I wasn't at all back at my house where people were everywhere, but now, here, being alone with him, with no buffer that might interrupt us, well, that was nerve-wracking.
Because I hadn't been with anyone since Jake. And I knew, coming here, that I was going to be with Matthew.
It's not that I considered Matthew the same as Jake or anything, because I didn't. Not even a little. They were far too different in so many ways.
But still, I was super nervous.
This was like me saying "Hey, I'm moving on now."
And that kind of freaked me out. In good ways and in bad ones. I couldn't figure out which way my emotions were leaning, since they were jumping all over the place.
He flipped on a little table lamp that looked roughly as old as I was. "The barracks are being renovated, so I opted for this." He gestured around the furnished apartment. It was clean, and the furniture looked new-ish. "The complex caters to short term residents. It's not ideal, but it will work."
I nodded. I'd driven by this apartment complex a dozen times--it wasn't that far from the base, or the salon for that matter.
Guess I never paid attention.
He took my hand and led me to the couch that didn't seem as old as the lamp. "Are you all right, Summer?"
It was so strange how he liked to say my name.
Though it also felt really cool when he did say it. Like saying it meant that his words were meant just for me.
It was stupid. I knew it was, but it made me feel important or something. Like saying my name emphasized that he meant me, and it couldn't possibly be no one else.
"I'm fine," I heard myself say. And I walked away, clenching my trembling hands.
He put his hand on my arm. "You're shaking."
"I'm nervous." I took his hand. He wasn't shaking, but maybe holding his hand would make mine stop trembling. Part of me wanted to toss back my nerves and try to be super brave and suave like guys liked, but it felt weird even considering it. I mean, I'd climbed on his lap in the chair before, because, well...
Well, why did I do that?
I don't know. But I did it, because I wanted to. It seemed right in the moment.
Now, though, I was terrified.
But as I felt his hand, while he wasn't shaking, he was obviously tense. Worried, maybe?
And what could I say to that?
"Are you nervous?" I asked.
He nodded. "Probably the same reason you are."
"Now that I doubt."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm nervous that I'm not ready to move on yet."
This did make him smile. "I guess then we're not exactly nervous for the same reasons."
"So why are you?" I asked.
"Because I would hate to disappoint you."
I rolled my eyes. "Dude, I can already tell you're, uh, well equipped. Unless your machinery is broke, I can't imagine you disappointing me." Because I had felt his gear back at my house. Nope, unless the thing had a really quick trigger, I can't imagine him disappointing me that way. Besides, if everyone gets equal enjoyment, who cares about trigger speed?
He looked down, and was it me, or did his ears turn pink?
"My machinery works fine," he said. This time when his eyes met mine, mirth was there, and, well, frankly it made me feel better seeing it.
"I do kinda feel like a high school kid, though." I said.
"How do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, when you're in school, you're sneaking around, half the fun is trying to see what you can get away with while everyone's just in the other room. When you do get some true alone time, it's like, uh, what do we do now?" I plopped on the couch.
He laughed. "Yes, it feels that way. Like we have the time, so what do we do with it?" He joined me, and did the guy-arm-stretch thing, putting his arm across the back of the couch.
I shrugged. "Exactly." I leaned into him. We relaxed on the couch and I rested my head on his shoulder.
"How strange that we'd cross paths again now, so long after high school," I said.
"I was just thinking that."
"Were you really?"
> He smirked. "No."
"Smart ass."
"I am what I am."
"And that's all that you are," I muttered.
"I don't eat spinach though."
This time I laughed. "You did at dinner. That green salad was pretty much all spinach."
"Really?"
"Yep."
He stroked my brow, and I wrapped my arms around his chest. It felt so good to be curled up to a man again. I didn't realize how much I missed it. I always wanted to stay strong, to be the best mother I could be for Emma. Show her that I don't need a man to keep me happy, that I'm happy on my own.
But this--the companionship--I miss a lot.
I knew it wouldn't last--what did he tell me, he was going back to Texas soon anyway. I should take what I have while I have it.
Appreciate the attention.
Savor it.
I wouldn't have it again for a long time, because I wasn't going to trust just anyone.
And that was it--I trusted Matthew. Whether it was nostalgia from our brief time in school together, or just this reconnection we've had, I didn't know, but I trusted him.
If I was going to move on from Jake, I should do it with someone I trusted, not some guy in a bar on a random Friday night.
"Matthew?"
"Yes?"
I twisted around so I faced him. "Can we have sex now?"
He blinked. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes," I said, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and started kissing him. He pulled me tight and answered my kissing in kind.
Our body parts smashed together, and I could smell the remnants of the grill smoke on him, and it mixed with the warm musty man-smells, making this heady, earthy scent that made me purr.
He eased me back on the couch until he covered me, and I spread my legs, letting him rest between them. His hands slid under my shirt, and I moaned as he caressed my skin. I released him enough to tug my shirt up and off.
He paused, staring at me for a second, his finger caressing the edges of my bra.
It was strange, watching his calloused hands stroking the delicate edge of the lace bra.
"Very pretty," he said.
I shrugged. "I like the pretty bras."
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you like the pretty panties too?"
I grinned. "You'll have to see."
He raised an eyebrow, then slid his hands down my sides. It took him just a minute to relieve me of my shorts, revealing that, yes, I wore the pretty panties that matched the pretty bra.
He ran his hand over my stomach and I started sucking my gut in, because, yeah, a model I wasn't.
"Stop it," he whispered.
"What?"
He leaned down, kissing my stomach just below my bra. "Stop sucking in."
"Well, you know, I'm not exactly--" And I wasn't. My sister's quip about Pilates came back, and I wondered if I should take the classes with her.
"You're beautiful." His hand ran over my hip, across my stomach, and even over the pooch that I carefully tried to hide no matter what I wore. Unfortunately, C-section scars are not easy to cover, and a flat stomach I'll never have again.
I winced when his hand slid over the line.
"Did I hurt you?"
I shook my head. "I'm just uh, sensitive there." I put my hand over the scar.
"Don't," he said. "Scars are a part of us. They make us who we are."
"So show me yours," I said, wanting to get his attention off mine and back to what we were doing--I didn't want to dwell on the one part of my body that made me feel the ugliest.
He ripped off his shirt, and sure enough, Mister Matthew had a few scars--battle scars, obviously.
Several marks marred his shoulders and back.
"Good grief, what happened?" I asked, caressing his chest.
"War happened." He leaned down and started to kiss me again, his body hot against mine, and something dark must have crept into his mind, because he suddenly became desperate--needy.
He devoured me, kissing me everywhere he could. His fingers danced over my skin, caressing and tugging at all the sensitive spots and making me cry out with every stroke and tug. I came under his strokes, panting on his couch as he covered me with even more kisses and nips.
I could feel his gear pressed against my parts, and I really wanted to see how his gear fit into my parts. I thought he was about ready. I even did a quick, preliminary check when I pulled his shorts off, stroking him through his rather tight underwear.
He stopped me in the middle of my inspection, and pulled away from me.
"What?" I asked.
"You're going to make a mess. And that's not the kind of mess I want to make."
I blinked. "Oh," I whispered.
He climbed off the couch and disappeared for a second, returning with a silver packet, the one thing I should have been thinking about as well. Good thing one of us had our brain working.
He stripped down and slid on the condom, and was back with me on the couch.
I shimmied the rest of the way out of my underwear and he got into position, and when he slid in, I felt my world fold in half.
"Holy shit," I muttered.
He grunted something that sounded like he agreed with me, as he very slowly started moving.
I matched his movements, and as he increased the pace, I managed to stay with him.
It didn't take too long to take me to another orgasm, and for him to follow a few moments later.
After he disposed of his condom, we laid there, curled up on the couch.
"Wow," he whispered.
"Yeah," I said.
He muttered something, but I didn't really hear him, because I nodded off to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Thursday
"This was a great idea," Emma said as she chowed down on her pizza. "I've never eaten outside in the rain!" The rain showers clattered against the metal roof that covered the picnic area at the park, making a tapping that was both loud yet soothing.
Summer laughed. "It is different." She glanced at Matthew.
He grinned at her, loving this simple moment. He needed it after a trying last few days at work.
And he needed to spend more time with Summer. How she soothed him with just a look or a few words, he didn't know. But it wasn't something he wanted to give up any time soon.
This seemed the easiest thing to do. And with Emma chaperoning them, he wouldn't be jumping her, like he really wanted to.
"I knew you hadn't ever done it." He smirked as he ate his own pizza. "I love rain in the summer time."
A clatter of thunder shook the sky, and Emma jumped.
"It's okay, kiddo, it's just thunder." Matthew said, patting her arm--she'd opted to sit next to him on the old picnic table rather than sit next to her mother.
"What made you think of it?" Summer asked as she took a bite of her pizza. They'd grabbed takeout from the pizzeria and he brought them here. The park wasn't far from the house he'd had when he lived here with his parents.
For that minute he was in Barrum.
"I used to do this with my mommy and daddy when I was a kid. We'd get a picnic together and eat outside somewhere when it was raining, and watch the rain and the lightning and the storms."
"So you're not afraid of storms, Mister Maffew?"
He shook his head. "Nope, never have been."
"We live in Tornado Alley, and when it gets hot, then it rains, we have tornadoes," Emma said. "And those are scary."
He nodded. "You do need to take notice of tornadoes, but today's not a tornado day."
"How do you know?" Emma asked.
He glanced at the sky. "The clouds aren't moving right."
"How do they move?"
"In a circle," Matthew said.
"Okay, Emma, I think you've pestered Mister Matthew about storms long enough."
The little girl huffed and crossed her arms. "I just don't want to see us get swept away in a tornado now that we're being a family."
<
br /> Matthew choked on his soda. That thought train wasn't even close to his ideas.
"Emma, we talked about this. We are all just friends. Mister Matthew is not going to be your new daddy."
"Why not? Don't you like me?" Emma asked, slumping in her seat.
"I like you a lot, Emma," he said, pulling the girl into his lap. She curled into him. "The problem is, your mom thinks I have stinky toes, and she doesn't like boys with stinky toes." He glanced at Summer, and she shook her head, smirking.
Matthew began to tickle the little girl, and she laughed and wiggled in his arms. He hoped he'd pushed the grown up idea of a family out of the little girl's mind.
She pushed away from him. "Okay, that's good," Emma said, panting. "I want to finish so I can play in the rain for a little bit."
"Okay, kiddo," Matthew said as he let her get back to her pizza. He turned to Summer, and just took her in a bit.
This was completely his idea--he wasn't sure he could watch another Disney Princess movie again--this would be their second Thursday together.
And it felt weird--like he had a family of his own. At least in the moment.
Summer met his gaze and smiled, a warm, glowing one that turned him on--but not like that.
Like, hell, he wasn't sure exactly, other than it made him feel amazing. More balanced than he'd felt since he returned.
Though when he glanced at the little girl, he saw Bettes so clearly in her features, he felt horrible about his feelings for Summer.
Because against his will, he was feeling things for her.
A lot of things.
Multiple texts a day, and at least a phone call in the evening after Emma was in bed.
Usually involving all the kinky stuff. He'd heard about sexting and phone sex, but hadn't really been that into it. At least not until Summer.
His phone went off.
You're pretty good there, soldier -- Summer
He smirked and texted her back, meeting her gaze before he did.
I'm good at lots of things -- Hennessey
Summer's cheeks turned red when she read his text.
Good.
"You should get a pedicure," Emma said suddenly.
He glanced at the little girl. "What?"
"You said Mommy doesn't like your stinky toes. If you got a pedicure, then your toes wouldn't stink anymore."
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