by Gina Watson
She giggled and sat up.
He gave her half the sandwich and a napkin. “My specialty.”
She took a Texas-sized bite. “Oh, wow. I’ll definitely be wanting this again and again.”
She praised every bite, talking nearly nonstop, but she managed to demolish most of the sandwich. When she saw the flowers, her eyes lit up. “You brought me buttercups. But you hate those.”
“Not anymore. Now I have a deep fondness for them.” He tapped her nose with a finger.
“Check.”
“What’s check?”
She sipped her coffee. “I just checked off breakfast in bed from my bucket list.”
“That was on your bucket list?” He scooted behind her so that she sat between his legs.
“Yes, that and to have a puppy and also to see the beach. So check and check for those too.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “You have such modest needs, my simple lady.”
“When I get done eating this bit of culinary perfection, I’ll show you my complex side.”
He kissed her earlobe and whispered, “Promises, promises.”
“That’s right, old man. You’ll want to get some stretching in before we embark on what I have planned.”
He tickled her side, and she squealed. Then she snuggled her head into the spot she loved between his chin and shoulder and held her hand in front of her, admiring the traditional diamond engagement ring he’d given her.
“Thank you for giving me my life back.”
“Not me—you did that. I was just there to accompany you on part of your journey.”
“The best part.”
“The best part,” he agreed.
“Well, maybe not.” She sighed into his neck. “Because you know what they say.”
“What’s that?”
She looked up sweetly, love blazing in her eyes, and cupped his cheek. “The best is yet to come.”
SEIZE
Excerpt (Augie and Mia’s story)
Excerpt has not been edited. Content may change upon final publication.
*
Augustine Charles Roy felt the silkiness of her skin as he adjusted her arm so that it wasn’t on his face. She’d started out under the covers of the bed they were made to share at the Motor Inn. That had been a good thing since they’d had nothing to sleep in. But she was not a quiet sleeper, and she moved around a lot in the bed. Now she was on top of the bedclothes. He glanced over to the slight woman currently taking up two thirds of the bed they shared. She was in her underwear. He’d taken off his shirt but there was no way he was removing his jeans. A slender arm landed across his chest. He exhaled loudly hoping to disturb her enough to reposition herself. She rolled and her thigh slid onto his but she was still asleep. He would be changing his name to Saint Augustine. His hand went to her hip in an effort to move her but that had been a mistake.
She was warm and smooth and her hips were displayed in a provocative manner that had him going full on hard. He clicked on the television and the shopping network came blaring to life. She stirred, raising her head that had made its way on to his chest. She eyed him with one eye open and one squinted shut, looking disoriented. “Were you deliberately trying to wake me up?”
“I don’t know, where you deliberately trying to give me a hard on.”
She pushed herself up, attempting to get away from him but the bed was shit—soft in the middle and hard on the edge creating a bowl effect.
“God, do you always have to answer using vulgar language and descriptions.” She ran her hand through her hair. “And for the record I wasn’t aware I was disturbing you. I apologize.”
“Human body pillow aside, can you at least get under the covers so I’m not in pain.”
From the glow of the television he could see that she’d turned beet red as she eyed his erection and pulled back the covers to slide under.
He turned off the television and rested his eyes. Her warmth seeped through the comforter but she was safely ensconced. At last he could get some sleep.
A blood curdling scream pierced through the airwaves and hit his brain like a 2X4. She jumped up and he followed suit. Eyes wide, they stared at each other across the bed.
“What the hell?”
She was shuddering as she rubbed down her leg and pointed with an unsteady hand to the bed. “God, something bit me on the leg. Something huge. Oh God, it was on me.” Her voice was so high in her throat it must have hurt to speak.
“Goddam woman.” He took a deep breath. Patience wasn’t his strongest character trait. He pulled back the sheets and identified the culprit. A huge beetle. He decided to approach it from the back and was closing in on it when Mia screamed again. “Oh my God is that what bit me?” She cupped her hand to her mouth.
“You must stop screaming. Let me get rid of it and then I’ll look at your leg. Sit in the desk chair.” She was shaking her head and hugging herself. “Mia, I said sit in the desk chair.” She stopped rubbing and made eye contact with him. “Now Mia.” She slowly lowered herself into the plastic chair.
*
Walking back inside he was attacked by warm, soft sugary woman. Mia jumped into his arms, clamping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She hugged him tight. “Thank you.”
“I can’t believe it bit me.” She shivered. “Do you think it’s poisonous?”
He set her down on the bed. “Let me look at it.”
“Oh no, you don’t do you?”
“No.”
“But you would have just said no, it’s not poisonous.”
“Well dammit some beetles are now sit still and let me look at you.”
Shit, the damn thing had left a welt on her smooth skin. He grabbed a towel and some ice from the bucket for her leg. The welt was large and red, about an inch and a half in diameter. When he set the ice pack on her leg she winced.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” She pushed the pack away.
“Do you want to scar?”
She looked at the bite, then back to him with pleading eyes. “No.” Her voice was a deflated whisper.
She was so sadly pathetic. He couldn’t take it so he climbed onto the bed behind her and pulled her to his lap. He delicately set the compress on her leg. He needed a distraction, at least until the ice melted.
“When I was in the marines, we had to do these drills. We’d go out in the field and stay for two to four weeks, learn to survive off the land and stuff. One of the gigs was in western Texas, dry and hot. One morning this guy we called Nuts because he had some of the hugest balls when you got down to it. Crazy fucker took out an Iraqi FROG in Fallujah all by himself. Well that morning he went to use one of the field toilets, basically a Port-O-Pot. Now would you think a two hundred pound, six foot four man could scream like a girl getting sand thrown in her eyes on a playground?”
Mia was laughing so hard tears leaked from her eyes and he thought it was the cutest sound he’d ever heard. Her reaction caused him to be more animated.
“Your scream was manlier than his. Seriously, his screech woke up the entire company and had us scrambling. We thought a woman was being murdered. It sounded like a cross between a seal and a hyena captured in a jaw tooth trap. When we got to him he was rolling in the dirt in front of the toilets with his pants down around his knees. Sand was stuck in the tear tracks on his face. This big, huge, hulking man had been brought down by a spider bite to the ass.
“To be fair it wasn’t your average house spider. It was a goddam tarantula. Poor bastard had to let his ass air out for two weeks. He carried a donut around with him to sit on.”
Mia’s laughing eventually evened out and, given her proximity, they shared a way too intimate look. Her shy sweetness was playing tricks on his libido. He lifted the bag from her leg and lightly traced around the swelling tissue. She turned in his lap and straddled him with her thighs, leaning her head against his shoulder like she was going to drift off. Her soft voice in his ear made h
is cock stir. “Did you check the bed for any more beetles?” Her head lifted, sincerity was related in her eyes.
“I did. We’re safe.”
She lifted her head and smiled at him. “You’re a real life hero.” Her lips feathered a kiss to his cheek, and then to the busted skin at his temple and jaw. “My hero.” She pulled away slowly with closed eyes. “You rescued me, twice.” She held up two fingers, she was so close he could feel her breath on his skin. Wanting to taste her rosy lips, he closed the gap between them. Her warm soft mouth vibrated with sounds of pleasure.
He pulled from her before he got carried away. He caught her eyes before she turned them downward in a shy gesture. They were incredible. Gray but there was something else there too. Not blue, not hazel or green. They were purple or lavender really. Gray laced with lavender. Spectacular. She snuggled into him and moaned.
He was engaged in a moral dilemma. The warm female on top of him was as sweet as Louisiana iced tea. Her soft groans had him hard as oak. He’d rescued her from two life threatening situations—though the beetle hardly counted in his mind but he wasn’t one to quibble over details. She was suffering from Florence Nightingale syndrome. He wondered if it could be argued he was taking advantage of this shy but passionate, honeyed woman.
Thank God he still had on his jeans because with the way she was straddling him in the bed he surely would have come like a teenage boy. Now in just her white cotton panties and bra, with tiny black polka dots, Augie could see the perkiness of her small breasts and the hard peaks against the thin fabric. She was fresh, too fresh, and innocent to boot—he could feel it in his gut yet he wanted to take her youth and incinerate it.
From what he’d read in the file he’d developed on her, she’d been caring for her mother. She’d lived at the same address her entire life in a town with a population of forty two hundred. She didn’t have the moves to impress, she was simply herself—pure and honest. When was the last time he’d had a woman like that? He couldn’t remember. He thought he liked sophisticated and aggressive—the kind of woman he didn’t have to teach for her to know what he liked. But the thought of teaching Mia had him so close he squeezed his eyes shut and thought about Afghanistan.
His thoughts shifted to Nicolas Claude Renaud. The bastard had his hands around her neck when he’d intervened. They weren’t in the clear yet and he knew she sensed it. Despite her dire situation she made him laugh and remained upbeat. She was constantly putting others before herself. What would it be like to have a woman like that? She’d made him stop the car so they could help a guy trying to secure a cast iron mixer to a motorized scooter. It was outside one of those huge kitchen and bath stores and the box had a large white bow on top. She’d said the mixer would fall and crash to the ground and it was obviously for his wife or girlfriend. Augie was in complete agreement but what kind of idiot drives a scooter to do his birthday shopping? She’d seen no reason why they couldn’t take him where he needed so they’d spent an hour driving him to and from the store.
She bent and cautiously kissed him innocently on the mouth before lightly running her fingertips down his neck.
He wanted her. He couldn’t believe he’d thought her plain at first glance. She was anything but. Granted she was a far cry from the forced perfection he was used to in the South, but he loved her dewy freshness. Her hair was a natural dishwater blond color. She didn’t flatten it into unimaginable slickness, nor was it artificially curled. It was just her hair and it suited her. He didn’t think she wore any makeup on her face. Hell she didn’t need to, her skin was as smooth as porcelain. Her eyes were darker now, the color more intense, hazy and sleepy. He wanted to know what caused them to change.
Her hand landed on his jaw as her lips nuzzled near his ear. She rubbed against him and God how he wanted to roll her beneath him and pump away into her tight heat. She smelled like that candy he liked when he was a kid—all fruity and sweet. He had to put a stop to this. He’d never been out of control when it came to women, but she held his mind in a fogbank. Maybe she wasn’t a virgin, maybe she was just shy. If that were the case, he’d love to teach her how to be confident with him. Lesson one: oral skills. He wanted those pink lips on him now. “Mia, you’ve had a man before right?” He raised a brow at her as he awaited her reply.
Their eyes met for the shortest of seconds and then she bit at her lip.
“Mia. I can’t take your innocence. I want you so badly I’m in pain but I can’t give you all of the expectations that should accompany your first time.” Shit. Even he didn’t know how to talk to her about the loss of her virginity. He’d never met one before. Far from it. All of the women he’d been with came highly skilled and he liked it that way. Or he did, until now. He still wanted her. He was dying to taste her and he was curious what noises she made when she was aroused.
Her brow furrowed as she pressed her palms to his chest. “What expectations?”
He didn’t fucking know what expectations. The way her heat was riding him through his jeans had him unable to make a coherent thought. He placed his hands on her soft pliant hips and lifted her from him. He sat up, threw his legs over the bed, and scrubbed his face with his hands. This was wrong. He should have insisted on sleeping in the chair but she’d been irresistible when she’d told him they could share the bed. She hadn’t thought anything of it but he knew where it would lead. He was a total dick.
He looked over at her in the chair. She’d put on her gray T-shirt and had her legs pulled up, resting her chin on her knees. She seemed vulnerable. Embarrassed maybe. “Mia,” he stood and made his way to her side of the room, “I think you can see it’s clear I want you.” He grabbed his erection. “How old are you?”
She intensely stared at her toes that were painted cotton candy pink. “Twenty five.”
“You should wait. You’ll meet some guy. He will give you everything you want.”
She looked up at him, her head cocked. “What do I want?”
He exhaled loudly and rubbed the back of his head. “Fuck if I know. All the things women want. Marriage, house, babies, my balls around your neck.”
She stood directly across from him now. She had to be at least five feet eight. Her lips pressed together and her forehead crinkled in thought. “I don’t want any of those things. I just wanted a night with you.” She was louder and super confident when she was irritated. “I’ve not had a chance to meet anyone. I’ve been taking care of my family since I was a teenager and I’m finally on the cusp of freedom. I have time and, with you here, I actually have the circumstance. If you don’t want to have sex with a virgin because you’re nervous you won’t measure up that’s fine. At least be honest, but don’t stand there and proceed to tell me what it is I expect.
What the fuck was he going to say to that? He’d apprehended criminals less intimidating than her.
She pulled her jeans from the floor and slid one leg on. Was she right? Yeah, he’d been nervous when he thought of being her first.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my own room.” He stood, aiming for her. She held her hand up at him. “Leave me alone Augie. I don’t want to be in here with you.” Grabbing her purse, she was gone. He immediately missed her presence. It was like someone had turned off the lights. What she’d said had stung. He’d actually thought they might do something that would bring them relief that wasn’t penetrative. Damn, he’d wanted her fresh lips around his cock and he’d not gotten to taste her sweetness.
He lay across the bed and dialed up some porn but was turned off at the fake, grotesque proportions of the women’s tits and their subpar, overindulgent acting. He switched off the television, closed his eyes, and thought of Mia. Her slim figure, small breasts, fresh face, and her humor. To his surprise his erection grew until his release simmered through him. He grabbed his cock and thought of the slim curves that were burned in his memory. She was willing to give herself to him and he’d let her go. What he’d meant to say was she deserved someone b
etter than him.
As every woman before her had said, he was a dick, son of a bitch, mother fucker, you name it, he’d heard it. They’d also said he’d never taken any responsibility for the problems in the relationship. But why would he? To be fair, he’d not wanted a relationship in the first place. Not ever. A fact he’d made known.
He thought of her sweet, gentle exploration of his body when she was on top of him and he came in his hand. What the fuck? She had the figure of a twelve year old boy, but there was no denying it—he was in to her.
SEIZE
March 2014
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Gina Watson is author of St. Martin Family Saga. She lives in Texas where she leads a double life: university instructor by day, romance writer by night. She loves to be contacted by readers to discuss all things erotic romance.
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THE SAGA CONTINUES IN:
St. Martin Family Saga
Emergency Responders Trilogy
Sizzle
Seize
Surge
(Jackson and Clara’s story)
Spring 2014
LINKS TO MY OTHER BOOKS:
Where it all began:
St. Martin Family Saga
Whiskey Cove Series
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