by Blue Saffire
“He helped me escape the bar, but he was injured in a fight with the guy who hit me. Well, actually the jerk and two of his friends started a fight.” Shannon glanced to Striker, sadness mixing with gratitude. “He saved me. He’s a good guy.”
The waitress’s gaze went from her to Striker, then back. “So he’s not the one who hit you.”
Striker shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’d never hit a woman.”
Her lips pursed, and Shannon didn’t know if the woman believed what Striker had said or not. He looked rugged and maybe a little menacing. When she’d first laid eyes on him, she’d been afraid. Then he’d stood up for her, challenging the whole bar.
She picked up her fork, smoothing her thumb over the metal. It was hard to think about all the bad dates she’d had, and here was this guy who hadn’t even tried to have sex with her, and yet he was the one being grilled.
“He really did save me,” Shannon insisted. “I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t.”
The waitress gave her a tight smile before she turned fast and headed to the kitchen. Shannon’s gaze slid to Striker as worry filled her. What if he got angry?
“What’s that look for?” His voice was deep, and she shivered.
She picked up her fork again. “Nothing.”
“No, babe, tell me.”
“You’re taking the heat, and those women think you’re the evil jerk who hurt me.”
He cupped her cheek, his thumb sliding over her lips. His eyes softened, and a smile tugged at his mouth. “I can take it because I didn’t do anything wrong. If I had, then I’d be worried, but I’m not, because I didn’t hurt you. As long as you know how I feel about you, that’s what matters most.”
The food arrived a moment later, cutting their conversation short. How did he feel? Her emotions had bubbled up and were nearly undefinable. There was something about him she couldn’t put into words.
Her eggs were delicious, and it appeared Striker liked his food. She shook her head as she watched him demolish two biscuits and sausage along with his eggs and pancakes.
“What?” he asked.
“You eat a lot.”
“Gotta to maintain my muscle mass. I skip a few meals, and I’m not as strong. It makes a difference.”
Her gaze flicked to his shoulders. “When I first saw you, I didn’t think you were that big.”
He winked as his lips spread in a sexy smile. “How big did you think I was?”
Heat filled her as she ate her last forkful of eggs, watching as he attacked his final pancake.
“Would you like any?” he asked. “The pancakes are great.”
“No, I’m not that hungry.”
“They are delicious.”
It had been a long time since she’d had a pancake. He cut the disk in half and placed half on her plate, waving his fork as he spoke. “Eat up.”
She didn’t want to disappoint him, so she took a few bites, but her eggs and bacon had filled her up. The pancakes tasted of heaven, sending shoots of pleasure through her. He was right—they were perfect. Too bad she was full.
After breakfast, they headed into downtown and parked at one of the garages close to the historic market. Though it was early, crowds filled the area. A cruise ship had docked in port, and people were wandering around looking lost. The scent of the salty sea filled the area and mixed with body odor from the crush of people. Striker didn’t seem bothered by the crowds as they strolled through the market stalls. Talking to Striker was honestly the most fun she’d had in ages. They made their way to the Battery, stopping along the way so he could read some of the plaques about historical events.
She stood off to the side, reading a little bit, just not all the words. “I never really paid much attention to these markers.”
His eyes flicked to her, and the smile he shot her made her insides twist. “The city has a lot of history.”
She took his hand, leading him over to a bench in the shade. “Growing up here, it’s weird. I mean I’ve done the school trips, heard the speeches, but living here, you hear people screaming about honor and patriotism, but it’s all crap. They don’t live it. It’s ruined when you see how they treat each other. It’s a beautiful city with a damaged soul.”
Striker wove his fingers with hers as they looked out at the rolling waves where the ocean met the Ashley River. She’d always loved this place with the wild water meeting the river. It was like two forces clashing together that were more similar than different. Like the Civil War—like all wars she guessed. And like life. She was far more similar to her father, but he made life hard. It wasn’t like he was some alien being.
“I know people like that,” Striker said as he squeezed her hand.
She turned to look at him. Explaining the feeling that passed between them would be impossible, but her heart expanded, and her mind buzzed.
He licked his lips, and his eyes grew sad. “For me, giving people a chance no matter who they seem to be on the outside is more important. I don’t like judging based on outward things, but I know it’s almost impossible. I try hard. Being in the military, you have to always suspect others when you’re out there. It’s weird. I never thought….”
“What?”
He leaned in and brushed his lips over her forehead before he stood. What had he been about to say? Was it important or just an observation on life with the Army?
They wove their way through the area, looking at the beautiful houses on King Street and Legare Street. They stopped for a moment and stared up at the church on Broad. The houses were old but well built, surviving the storms the ocean tossed at them. She would never live in a house like this, but it wasn’t about dreaming she had a life here; it was about having something substantial, something she could be proud of.
Striker draped his arm over her shoulder, and she glanced up. The look in his eyes took her breath away. Whatever was growing between them would ruin her for another. No question, if she had time with this man, they would build something special.
They walked side by side until the walkway grew too thin and the people too many. They walked all the way up to the first Citadel location, then almost to the market to eat at her favorite barbecue place. She ate until she didn’t think she could move again. Striker consumed so much food she worried how he’d fit into his jeans. He didn’t appear worried or uncomfortable though.
Once they were done, they headed over to Waterfront Park near where the truck was parked, and people-watched, discussing everything from their hometowns to school—he’d been raised in Dallas, Texas—to what they wanted out of life. Stability and a good person to share the ups and downs with seemed to be something they both wanted.
Then Striker said he planned to stay with the Army. Silence sat heavy between them. The plans had gone from general to more specific. His eyebrows were bunched with lines, making him look older or at least more worried. What was he thinking? Their gazes met, revealing the passion deep inside his soul. A pulse of energy passed between them.
“I have nine days of leave; I guess I have seven days left since I have to drive home the last day. I’d like to spend the time with you.”
The end came out almost in a whisper, and she leaned in, her heart fluttering at the suggestion. Heat raced from her heart up to her neck to her face. Had he really asked her to spend the week with him? What did that mean?
“I kind of have school on the weekdays.”
His lips quirked up like her proclamation didn’t change how he felt. “Okay, how long is school?”
“I have to be there from eight to almost five most days.”
His fingers twisted with hers, and he pulled her hand to his lap. “I can work out and study. There are a couple of things I want to learn so I can advance my career, so you being in school is perfect.”
A twinge of guilt hit her. She didn’t want to ruin his vacation. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you waste your week.”
His lips curved up as he lifted their e
ntwined hands, kissing her fingers. With hooded eyes, his smoldering gaze hit her. The force of his desire slammed into her. “Shannon, I don’t think any time spent with you would be a waste.”
He closed the distance and brushed his lips against her like a soft touch, barely skimming the surface but pulling deep at her soul. When he sat up, lust heated his gaze. She wasn’t surprised when he stood and pulled her to standing. He didn’t say much on his way to his truck. Instead, the sizzle of desire spoke for him.
Before he opened the door, he pressed her up against the side of the truck. The slam of a car door, the rev of an engine, someone laughing echoed in the garage, but they were mostly alone in the dark corner where he’d parked. His lips were on hers, his body vibrating with power, lust, and something sweeter. His hands caressed as they trailed down her arms. Though the kiss wasn’t deep, stars swam behind her eyes as he rocked his hips forward.
What he wanted was obvious, and she wanted it too. Her hand slid over his chest, and she snaked it behind his back, pulling him closer.
“I want to do more than just talk when we get back to your hotel room.” Her words crackled with intensity, drawing them closer together.
Striker’s lips were at her ear. “So do I.”
She shivered, and he chuckled. His fingers pressed into her skin, and she wanted nothing more than her clothes gone and their flesh sliding together, their bodies entwined.
“We should go,” he whispered.
“Yes. Public nudity is frowned upon here.”
“I bet.”
The drive to his hotel wasn’t that long, and once inside, he shoved off his pants and pulled his shirt over his head. His hands were on her, tugging at her shirt. He moved fast, and she wanted a long look at him, so she placed a hand in the center of his chest and took a step back.
Her gaze flicked over his torso and lower. She sucked in a sharp breath, her body heating as she stared. Their gazes met, and she swallowed over the lust building.
“You’re really a good guy, aren’t you?”
He shook his head. “Right now, I don’t feel good. I want to do really dirty things with you.”
A twinge of fear twisted through her. “How dirty?”
He licked his lips, and a pulse of excitement rolled over her. The heat in his gaze made her muscles clench. This man had the power to take her further than anyone else ever had. Though she hadn’t even known him for twenty-four hours, she wanted to be lost in him. Maybe she was crazy, but she trusted him.
Her heart filled with emotions, and she didn’t doubt she was in deep trouble. Passion swirled inside, her heart filled to the brim. This wasn’t how emotions were supposed to develop, but she couldn’t help the feelings. What the hell was she going to do when he left at the end of the week? No question, her heart would break when he walked out of her life.
6
Striker’s lust grew as Shannon slid her shirt over her head. His fingers itched to touch, but he wanted to take this slow. Maybe he shouldn’t have stripped as soon as he stepped into the room but the need to be pressed up against her had driven him.
When she pushed her pants low and kicked off her shoes, his heart started racing. He tugged his underwear off, then reached for his cock, stroking the length once. Her eyes grew wide when her gaze dipped. Pride surged, and he stroked his cock again.
He drank her in, noticing how thin she really was. Worry hit him hard. Was she thin because she was naturally thin, or was her father such an abusive jerk he didn’t let her eat? Did the asshole pester her into looking a certain way? Already the man sounded like a total jerk. Later, after he’d shown her how much he desired her, he would get to the bottom of it all.
He stepped close and slid one finger between her breasts, his body getting even hotter. She was the most delectable woman he’d ever met.
“I want to remember this for a long time,” Striker said.
“Then let’s take it slow.” Shannon’s voice slid over him like warm honey, increasing his desire.
His lungs wouldn’t work. He sucked in shallow breaths only to need more air. She ran her fingers over his abs and his pecs, then over his shoulders. It was like he was back in high school trying sex for the first time. He barely had control of himself.
Shaky hands touched her shoulder, and his throat was drier than sand.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and Shannon leaned in, her tongue tracing a path up one side of his neck to his ear. He let his head drop back as he relished the feel of her hands and tongue on his body. Lust pumped hard. Every touch was like fire licking against his flesh. Every sound from her was music to his ears.
By the time she had kissed from his neck to his pecs, his ears were ringing. When she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him so he was lying on the mattress, his whole body shook with anticipation.
He stretched out, and his eyes stayed on her, drinking in the passion on her face. When she covered his mouth with hers, begging him to open, electricity shot from his lips to his spine. She kissed him like she meant it. When she ended the kiss, her lips dipped lower, teasing his flesh from his pec to his abs. Then she traced a lazy path lower, ramping up his excitement. When her chin bumped into the tip of his dick, he gasped.
She sat up, her cheeks flamed rosy, and the fire of lust filled her eyes. Need surpassed his ability to think and take things slowly. He moved fast, flipping her before he pressed her to the bed.
She opened her legs, and he moved his hand lower. When she arched up, he slid his finger over her mons to cup her pussy. Heat raced up his spine, and his balls pulled tight. This was better than any fantasy he’d ever dreamt up. She was perfect for him.
“Striker, I need you in me.”
He grunted and removed his hand. Instead of moving between her legs, he kissed down her neck while his hands roamed over her sweet body. Slowly, he made his way from her lips to her breast, licking and sucking on one nipple before going to the other.
“Touch me, please,” she cried out.
Striker’s muscles clenched as desire heightened. He slid his hands down her body to her pussy. She lifted her hips and curled in, moving so his fingers were at her opening. He took advantage of her move and dipped into her wet heat. The moan from her drove him to push deeper. This woman was a wildcat, and he wanted to have her wrapped around him.
He stroked into her delicious heat, realizing he would be happy to be trapped inside her forever. He teased her breasts with his other hand and his lips. She shivered as she moaned and writhed on the bed. She was putty in his hands. His lust grew even more as he witnessed her coming undone. Power filled him, and the thrill of watching her close to orgasm took over.
He kissed lower, tracing her ribs with his tongue, noticing how incredibly soft her skin was against his. She was perfect, and he wanted to stay right here and kiss her over and over again. The desire to taste her increased, and he moved down her body, kissing over one hip, then paused. The scent of her was nearly overwhelming. He ran his hand across her skin, sliding one finger along her opening before pushing in. Wet with desire, she moaned as she pumped up to meet his touch.
The explosion of heat that swamped him threatened to take his breath. No other woman compared. Maybe Shannon was the best woman he’d ever been with, or maybe he was full of crap. She made everything different, that was all he knew. Either way, Shannon was better than the rest. No question, this woman was a league above what he’d had before.
He lifted and met her gaze. Lust showed in her eyes, and her lips were parted, her cheeks pink. He’d done that, made her look all desirable and sexy. Pride surged through him.
He adjusted, then slid his tongue over her slit. She lifted her hips and reached down, pressing against the back of his head. He chuckled, thinking that her moans were the best sound he’d ever heard. He could spend a lifetime wrapped in her arms.
Shannon grunted as she put more pressure on his head, keeping him where he was. Sweet as honey and feisty too. He liked how she demanded w
ith her hands while pressing up with her hips. No way would he disappoint her.
He wasn’t into delaying gratification too much. He wanted this woman writhing in his arms. She was close too. He licked then slid his tongue in where his fingers had been. She gasped but tugged on his hair. He chuckled again and moved up, sucking her in.
Her muscles were tight, her back arched with the roll of her hips. Shannon whimpered, her words jumbled together as she begged. She was falling apart in his arms, close to shattering.
Then the twisting of his hair became more insistent, and he figured she was close to orgasm. He was going to grab the condom from his pocket when she hooked her legs behind his back and held him there. She stiffened in his arms, then cried out as she started to pulse against his tongue.
He’d been hard before, but her orgasm made him rock hard, and he wasn’t sure he could breathe. He moved fast and slid in, shoving deep on the first thrust. She clutched him close and held on. He didn’t want to hurt her, so he braced himself and didn’t put all his weight on her body.
Their movements were like poetry, her moans music. She fit him perfectly, and he never wanted to let go.
Her legs came around him, trapping him. The roll of his hips met hers, and it was like they were dancing. He gasped as she clenched her muscles, tightening around him.
Sweet heaven of being with her mixed with the hell of knowing it wouldn’t last. He didn’t want her to walk away, but how could he keep her close? She lived here, and he was in Georgia.
His brain fuzzed, and any rational thought was dashed in a wave of lust. They came together, his hips meeting hers, thrust for thrust.
He was falling, tumbling down from the place he’d been, unable to resist her allure. When he walked away, he’d never truly leave. Shannon was fire and passion with a dash of gentle loving, and he was hooked.
The need for air grew, but his desire to keep kissing won out. She ripped her mouth from his and drew in a long breath. The swirl of passion was too much. He cried out, his orgasm so close it sizzled up his spine.
His body was on fire, and Shannon stoked him higher with every move. Everything before paled in comparison to life with Shannon. All that mattered was her lips, her skin, her body. The desire to get closer won over his need to pump hard and he held her tight, rocking with her as desire, heat, and emotions twisted together.