One Christmas: (BBW Military Romance) (One Soldier Series Book 3)

by Christin Lovell

  There came that smile again. “It was a reminder. Not a day passes that I don’t look at that mantel, and, therefore, not a day passed that I didn’t think about you while you were overseas.”

  Her answer was simpler than I had hoped for, yet deeper in context. No matter how you spliced it, though, it proved she cared.

  And that was my in.

  Returning the frame, I strode towards her. I squat down in front of her and took her hand between both of mine. Fixing my gaze directly on hers, I took a calming breath. This was it.

  “Nothing’s changed from my letters, Jane. I still want to be with you. All I’m asking for is a chance. Not a commitment, just a chance.”

  She sucked in a breath, her expression tensing. “But, it’s so wrong, Brad. You…you’re-”

  “A big boy. I may not be as old as you, but I’m old enough to decide for myself what I do and don’t want. I’ve considered every angle and it hasn’t changed a thing. I want you, Jane. Always have and probably always will.”

  “That’s the catch. Probably,” she stated. Her brows furrowed as she stared at me.

  It was time to push hard or go home.

  “Talk to me, babe. What are you worried about?” I studied her, studied her features and every emotion that reflected in them.

  She expelled a soft breath. Her expression turned wistful. “You have your entire life ahead of you, sweetie. I would just hold you back.”

  Rising up, I released her hand, opting to press one fist into the arm of the couch and other into the back, effectively caging her in, upping the ante. “How?”

  She seemed to search for an answer, her gaze darting anywhere but at me. “I don’t have as much energy as you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She whipped back, her brows pinching. “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m calling bullshit.”

  She vehemently shook her head negatively. “You don’t even know me,” she snapped.

  Leaning in, an inch away from her face, I stared directly into her eyes. “Bullshit. I know you a hell of a lot better than you think. I know you well enough to know that you want this, but for some reason, you won’t allow yourself to have this. I know you well enough to know that, despite being in full control of your career, you’ve often felt like you have zero control over your personal life. I know you well enough to know that you’re afraid, afraid that we could be so good that it’d hurt twice as much as it did with Jeff if we didn’t work out. I see it. I feel it. You can get caught up in the numbers if you want, babe, but the only thing I’m caught up in is you. I traveled thirty-six hours directly to you, no one else. I chose you.”

  I knew the last line sunk in, for she’d written it herself about another scenario entirely.

  Her gazed softened; her brows relaxed as the words set in.

  “Give me tonight, Jane. If you wake up and don’t want this anymore, then I’ll walk away. No questions asked.” My muscles flexed, tension rolling through my limbs. This was it; the moment of truth had arrived.

  Leaning back, I gave her a bit of breathing room as she mulled it over. My heart thundered in my chest. It felt like I was back in the field on a combat mission. All of my senses were on high alert, reaching for any indication of what lied ahead.

  Taking a deep breath, I gave her the final push. “What’s it going to be, babe?”

  Hesitantly, she met my gaze. “What if you regret it?”

  Finally, the truth was out. “I could never regret a night with a gorgeous woman like you.” I winked, giving her a charming smile.

  She laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “You’re such a flirt.”

  “Only with you. Promise.” I knew I was grinning from ear to fucking ear.

  Dropping one knee on the sofa beside her, I closed in on her. I removed her glasses and set them carefully on the side table. Threading one hand through her strands, I cradled her head; tugging gently, just enough to angle her head back, I captured her lips.

  Sweet fucking Christmas. Her lips eagerly accepted mine, melding and moving in time. There was no awkwardness, no disconnect. Just intensity, and passion, and every other synonym for it.

  She tasted like liquid sugar, a syrupy addiction.

  Abruptly, she grabbed a fist full of my shirt and jerked me closer.

  If I thought I was hard before, after that move, my cock could hammer in a nail now.

  She had the perfect balance of aggression and restraint. She let me lead, but made it known what she wanted. She was confident, yet seemed to bloom every time I reassured her with my touch.

  Pulling harder on her hair, I kissed a trail down to her neck, licking and teasing her flesh.

  She moaned, arching to give me better access.

  Shit, she was responsive.

  And that was when I knew; as good as I imagined sex to be with her, the real thing was going to be a hundred times better.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jane

  Sweet cherry pie. Delicious tingles fluttered through me, tender waves of pleasure, of awareness, were slowly awakening the dormant, sexually driven parts of me.

  Brad was even sexier in person. His hair looked good shaved; it took away from his boyishly handsome looks, made him more rugged and masculine. From what I felt of his body, he seemed even more muscular than in his photo, as if he’d bulked up while away. Sweet Jesus, I’d never wanted to undress a man to see what was beneath so bad.

  He had a perfect pout, and he knew how to use it. What he did with his lips was indescribable. He applied just enough pressure to make his moves adamant, but not enough to be considered aggressive or rough. He dragged his teeth gingerly across my flesh, mixing tease with irritation, giving me the perfect blend of lax sharpness.

  And then his mouth closed over my neck.

  Sweet cherry pie. My breasts swelled, my nipples straining against the lace of my nude bra as he swiped his tongue along my sensitive flesh. The way he suckled the vein in my neck had my pussy weeping. It was full of promise, gave a hint of what his skills truly were.

  And damn was he talented.

  Gliding my hands beneath his uniform shirt, I found another shirt. We both had too many layers on for what I wanted, for what I was just realizing now that I desperately needed. It’d been long enough already, too long really.

  Shoving him back, I tossed the blanket aside and stood.

  Taking control, he grabbed my hand. His eyes were wild, passion glowing in his depths. “Bedroom?”

  I pointed in the general direction of the master bedroom.

  His gaze traveled up and down my body, eliciting heat to flood my cheeks and my apex. His eyes darkened, his nostrils flaring as he took an unsteady breath. “Fuck, babe.” He ground the words out, immediately taking off towards where I’d pointed.

  I bit back a smile, giddiness building in my chest. No man had looked at me like that, not even the man I’d married. And no man had ever been this eager to undress my abundant curves, even the few drunken one-night stands I’d had in college.

  Brad was different. And with every minute that passed, he was further setting himself apart from the others.

  With haste, he found the room. He pulled me inside, kicked the door closed and immediately jerked me into his arms, capturing my lips again. His hands were confident as they roamed my body; his arms were strong and secure around me. Gliding his fingers along the hem of my shirt, he worked it up and over my head, pulling away from my mouth for half a breath before returning with as much gusto as before.

  One by one, I undid the buttons running down the front of his shirt until I could strip it away. Sliding beneath his undershirt, I pressed my palms along his muscles, feeling every delicious groove, every inch of solid surface.

  His hands dove beneath my sweats and panties, grabbing at my flesh. Circling around, he squeezed my rear asset, yanking my front to his.

  Breaking away, he angled himself just enough to take me in. “Fuck, babe.” His gaze zoned in on my breasts, and no dou
bt my tight peaks pressing against the see-through lace.

  Shoving me backwards, he led us to my bed. Wrapping his arms around me, he hoisted me up onto the mattress and stepped back. He stripped off his clothes in rapid succession. Once naked, he gripped his member. “This is how bad I want you, babe.”

  Damn, he was beautiful; warm flesh over hard stone. He had very little body hair above the waist and kept himself trimmed below, something I had always appreciated. He was a work of art, a beautiful work of art I could stare at all day.

  Just as with his photo, I was lured to him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, particularly his thick erection.

  With one leap, he playfully pounced onto the bed. With one swing of his leg, he framed my full figure. With one moment’s notice, he smirked before sweeping down and capturing one stiff peak through my bra. He used the perfect combination of teeth, lips and tongue to have me bowing deeper into his mouth.

  Pleasure fluttered through my chest as liquid desire wet my channel. Gripping his biceps, I dug my nails into his flesh.

  He chuckled lightly, deviously. He was enjoying this.

  But, then again, so was I.

  He switched breasts, laving the other with the same masterful attention. In tandem, he reached behind me and unhooked each clasp on my brasier between sucks on my nipple. Finishing, he sat back on his knees and slid the straps down and away from my arms, baring all of my upper body.

  Cool air wafted over my wet tips, further percolating them. I shuddered as a chill chased down my spine.

  Taking notice, he pressed his chest to mine, covering me. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll get warm soon enough.” With a quick kiss, he began to trail his mouth down my plump curves. First, he stripped off my socks, followed quickly by my sweatpants and panties.

  Nerves furled in my stomach as he looked me up and down. His expression was hidden, his thoughts concealed as he did so, leaving my own to wander.

  Tugging my bottom lip between my teeth, I worked my swollen flesh. The right clothes, the perfect undergarments, could tailor any body positively, casting illusions, giving false impressions. I was never what one would call tight, even as a teenager, but things weren’t as tight as they were twenty years ago. My skin was a little more lax, easier to stretch, and darn if those five pounds didn’t do a tiny bit of damage.

  Moving back up, he straddled me once more, his muscular legs draping around my thighs. He pressed his cock against my mound. Jaw set, he stared straight into my eyes. “Not a single thing has changed. Turn that mind of yours off.”

  A single breath expelled in a bit of a laugh. I really was overthinking this. Sometimes, there was bliss in immaturity. Immature adults didn’t consider the consequences; they rarely cared about anyone beyond themselves. The lived and enjoyed living until their bubble was burst.

  It was time for me to enjoy this, to enjoy Brad, until my bubble was burst.

  My gaze traveled the length of him, as much as I could see until our bodies met.

  He claimed my lips, stealing my thoughts. “Trust me, babe. Trust the man you know I am from my letters, and let go.”

  I smiled against his lips. “You talk a smooth game.”

  “Well then I’m calling it.” He slipped a hand between us, his thumb seeking my clit. Leisurely, he drew circles over my nub, teasing me.

  Pleasure spliced through my lower half. I found myself arching into his touch, greedily wanting more.

  His mouth closed over one, sensitive nipple. Using the surface of his tongue, he abraded the tender peak, overwhelming me with sensations above and below.

  Over and over he worked me, to the point where my juices dripped from my slit. My mewls filled the room, and, yet, still he didn’t stop. He was focused, driven, attentive. He was driving me crazy, forcing me up on a cliff I hadn’t visited in a while.

  The closer I got, the rougher I gripped him. I pinched his flesh, clawed at him as my pleasure was buried under a mountain of need, beneath an intense pressure.

  I felt him align himself at my entrance, but I was too lost in the beautiful sensations teasing me into a ball of tension to notice.

  Until he plunged into me, the tip of his cock slamming into my cervix.

  Fresh feelings, pleasurable vibrations rippled through me. My pussy stretched around him, adjusting to his thickness and length. His prick filled me, straining against my slick flesh.

  He didn’t move, but he continued to suck my breasts and taunt my clit, winding me up, taking me higher and higher.

  Anxiously, I wrapped my legs around his waist, thrusting my hips, bowing into him; I was silently pleading with him. I needed more. I wanted more.

  “Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I can’t give you everything you need. You remember that.” With a tender bite to my nipple, he broke away from chest. Gliding his cock back down my channel, he surged forward again, his thumb still moving along my pearl.

  Without warning, he burst into a rapid sprint, pummeling in and out of me at a quick cadence. His hand never waivered from my pussy. He held himself up with one arm, his muscles flexing and trembling beneath his effort as he moved. Bending into me, he sucked and kissed along my collarbone and up to my neck, garnering fresh whimpers from me.

  The way his body pressed to mine, rubbed against mine and into mine, stimulated every single one of my senses. I heard every slap of our flesh, every tiny grunt that escaped him as he thrust. I saw the perspiration licking his brow, the determined set of his features as he swept his mouth along my skin. I felt every minute twitch, every tinge of pleasure, no matter how microscopic. I felt him. Everywhere. He surrounded me. He consumed me. And all I could think was that I wanted more, that I would never get enough, that I could never get enough.

  Stressing, straining to meet his every motion, my body seemed to compress. An invisible rope bound me, had me fighting for freedom, for release.

  Sweet cherry pie, I wanted release.

  As if sensing my fret, he sat up, unwrapped my legs from around him and pressed the back of my legs into his front. Leaning back down, his weight shoving my knees towards my chest, enhancing the rolls on my belly, he assumed a push-up position and began thrusting frantically. The new position had him gliding deeper into me, touching places I didn’t know existed, good places.

  Angling his head, he captured one nipple, sucking hard, tugging frantically on my tight peak as he thoroughly fucked me.

  Sensations cocooned me, swept me away to a world of feeling, to a place of sensory overload. My heartbeat doubled in rhythm with my pounding pulse.

  One moment, I was climbing, the pressure rising; the next, I was falling, fast and hard, my vision blurring at the edges as perspiration coated my temples.

  Pleasure shot through me, electrified every nerve, slicked every pore on my body, and sent heat rolling through every limb. Wave after wave of eroticism crashed through me, had me crying out, pleading for mercy while simultaneously begging for more.

  Brad didn’t let up. He kept his pace, pummeling my pussy into sweet surrender.

  Until, with a hoarse cry, he coated my womb with his hot seed, holding himself for a long moment before resuming a languid forward thrust. He stroked in and out of me until he was soft enough to easily slip from me.

  He moved his arms, planting his palms on either side of my stomach, allowing my legs to fall away, before he slid further up me. His breathing was as heavy as mine, our breaths mingling as he gazed down at me. There was nothing but adoration in his depths; it was unexpected and yanked on my heartstrings.

  I didn’t expect the swell of emotions that suddenly erupted. Swallowing hard, I pushed him away, quickly rolling over and turning my head away from him.

  He sighed, but didn’t give up. He threw an arm around my waist, and cascaded tender kisses along my arm and shoulder.

  This wasn’t about me. This was about him.

  With that one experience, with the many letters he’d written me, I knew he would be enough for me. The
man I knew and the man I saw would always be enough for me.

  But could I be enough for him? He was saying one thing now, but that didn’t mean he’d be singing the same tune tomorrow.

  I didn’t want to rush things. I didn’t want to make another mistake, to go into another relationship with an ignorance-is-bliss mentality. I didn’t want to get hurt again, but, beyond that, I didn’t want to hurt him, damage his future in any way.

  I was back to the same struggle, only with many more emotions wrapped up in him now.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brad

  Jane’s plush figure felt amazing next to mine. But, despite being physically closer to her than ever, emotionally, I might as well have been back in Afghanistan given the distance she was insisting on. No sooner had I had the best damn coming session of my life than she immediately turned away and shut me out.

  I knew I didn’t do anything wrong. The best I could do was reassure her, be there to support her as she sorted through whatever she was facing.

  Dammit. I never should have told her that I would walk away, no questions asked. I couldn’t, not after what we just did.

  I’d had plenty of sex, enough to know what I liked and what felt good to me, but it was different with her. Everything felt better, more explosive. All of our pieces fit together like one beautiful puzzle. Her pussy felt like hot, silky gold around my cock. My boy had never felt more at home in a woman.

  With a sigh, I turned into her. I placed one arm around her waist, holding myself close. I sprinkled kisses along her upper arm and shoulder, doing the only thing I knew to do, what I’d told her to do for Haylee: let her know you’ll be there when she’s ready.

  She was it for me. At some point, Jane would realize that. And I’d be there when she was ready.

  I had no other choice, because she owned my heart. No other woman stood a chance.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jane

  December 24th, 2014

  Stretching, my muscles rebelled. The backs of my thighs were sorer than they’d been in a long while.