by Seton, Cora
His cock twitched at the erotic image. “We can still do all that.” He waved toward the kitchen counter. “I have an Italian gourmet dinner. Your favorite pizza pie with pepperoni, onion, and black olives.” As he spoke, he slid her jacket over her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Then he slipped the buckle of her shoulder holster loose, and eased it too from her shoulders, draping it over the back of a chair.
“Now you’re talking.” Mitchell skimmed her hands over his chest and around to his back, dropping low to capture his ass in her palms, pressing him closer. “Miss me much?”
Already hard, his member nudged her belly, ready to skip right to their reunion sex. With every ounce of control he could muster, he set her away from him. “You should eat. I need my woman to have the energy to last all night long. And tomorrow we’re on our way to Colorado.”
Her hands tightened on his buttocks and pulled him back against her. “I don’t want food. I want you.” Flashing a sexy grin, she leaned up on her toes and pressed her mouth against his.
His control unraveling, Remy’s blood heated and he captured her head in his hands, slipping the ponytail free. God, it felt good to run his fingers through her hair, and to feel her body pressed against his.
The tight buds of her distended nipples scraped his chest through her shirt and bra, and he couldn’t wait to get her out of her clothes.
Sucking in a breath, Mitchell slipped her hands inside the elastic of his shorts and gripped his naked butt. “Aren’t we a bit overdressed?”
“Absolutely.” He leaned away and plucked at the buttons on her blouse, popped a few as he worked his way down the front and pulled the hem free of her trousers.
She shoved his sweat shorts over his hips and down his legs, skimming over his bullet wound.
He ignored the sharp stab of pain and tore her shirt off her back, flinging it against the wall.
“What’s this?” She backed away and stared at the long gash along his thigh that had been neatly stitched by one of the docs at Camp Leatherneck.
He shrugged. “Just a flesh wound.” Eyeing her bared skin, he tried to pull her back into his arms.
With a hand planted on his chest, she resisted.
“We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re wounded.” Her brows furrowed. “Shrapnel or gunshot wound?”
“Gunshot.” He smiled.
Her lips pressed together, and she shifted her gaze from the wound to his face. “Everyone else okay?”
“We all made it back safely.”
She stared for a moment longer before laying her cheek against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I know I’m not supposed to, but I worry so much when you’re away on an operation.”
He liked that she cared, but not that she worried. “Goes both ways.” He smoothed his hand over her soft hair and tipped up her face. “Seems you had a little excitement today.”
“Can we not talk about that right now?” Her lips clamped tight.
“Sure. What would you like to do? Eat pizza, make love, get a shower?”
A chuckle shook her. “Yes to all of them, but not in that order. Shower first.” She stepped away and stared at his naked body. “Too bad, you’ve already had yours.”
“I’ve been in the desert for a month. I’m sure I missed a spot or two. A man can never be too clean.” He loved that no matter how tough she was, she was all soft and feminine when it counted. In the bed and in the shower, those attributes counted.
He reached for the button on her trousers, freed it, and dragged the zipper down the front. The fabric glided down her legs, pooling at her ankles.
She kicked her feet free and stood in her bra and panties. “It’s a start, but we’re not in the shower yet, and I’m covered in road grime.”
Road grime. The word reminded him of the scene on the TV. He opened his mouth to say something about what had happened.
Before he could, she touched a finger to his lips. “Let’s not talk about work. I want it to be just you, me, water and soap. I like it when we get all slippery.” She took his hand in hers and led him into the bathroom where her bra and panties were quickly discarded.
Remy twisted the handle on the shower and set the water temperature to a comfortable level, then leaned down and scooped up Mitchell, wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her, his tongue slipping past her teeth to slide the length of hers. He could spend the rest of his life kissing and making love to this woman. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of, and more.
Stepping over the edge of the tub, he turned her back to the shower and let the warm water run over her body and between them. Steam rose around them, filling the air. Lowering her feet to the ground, he squirted a healthy dose of scented body wash into his hands.
Starting at her shoulders, he built a lather, and then traveled downward to smooth over her beautiful breasts. The feel of her skin under his touch kicked up his pulse. “I missed these,” he said, bent to capture a taut nipple between his lips and sucked it into his mouth.
“Really? You missed my breasts?” She laughed and plumped the one he feasted on, encouraging him to take more into his mouth. “I have to admit, the girls missed you, too.”
Loving the sound of that, he nipped the tip.
Mitchell sucked in a sharp breath. “Hey. They’re for tasting, not eating.” She wove her fingers through his hair and cupped the back of his neck, guiding him to the other nipple, while she slid her leg up the back of his.
He loved it when she gave as good as she got. The woman was fierce in her job and in the bed, and he couldn’t believe she wanted to be with him. He couldn’t wait to pop the question and make their claim on each other official.
As he tugged, sucked, and nibbled at her breast, he felt her body tense.
“Is it hot in here, or is it me?” She gripped his ears and dragged him up. “Enough foreplay. Tell me you have protection.”
Through narrowed eyes, he stared at her flushed face. “You aren’t there yet.”
She cupped his balls and squeezed gently. “I’ll be all over there, if you don’t get a condom and get inside me now. I want you. We can worry about the foreplay later.”
Remy grinned. “Where’s the romance?”
She stomped her foot, splashing water over the side of the tub. “Goddamn it, Remy! Either you want me, or you don’t. If I don’t have you inside me in the next ten seconds, I’ll come completely apart at the seams.” She captured his face in her hands and forced him to look into her eyes. Then she kissed him hard, while running a hand over his long, thick, and incredibly hard shaft.
“A guy likes a little romance,” he grumbled.
“Bullshit.” She rubbed her thatch of hair over his cock.
It twitched in response.
“Fortunately,” he said, reaching for the condom he’d staged behind the shampoo bottle, “a good SEAL always comes prepared.” He held it up with a grin.
“Thank God.” She ripped the foil packet from his hands, tore it open, and rolled it down over his engorged staff. “Now, Mr. Navy frogman. Take me. And make it hard and fast.” Mitchell entwined her arms around his neck.
Remy scooped her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He backed her against the cool tile of the shower wall, felt her momentary flinch, and drove into her hot, wet channel. She hadn’t been lying about being ready, so slick with her juices.
“Is that all you got?” she taunted. “Show me how tough you are. Give it to me.”
“You got it, sweetheart.” He dragged her hands above her head and pinned them with one of his big paws. Then he slammed into her, holding her hip, pressing her firmly against the shower wall. Like the other times, he marveled at the feel of their bodies and how they fitted tight. He pumped in and out, faster and faster, his body tightening with each thrust, the tension building inside until it bunched into a dense concentration. One more thrust into her, his member sliding through the heat, and his insides exploded outward in a burst of energy, sending
electricity from his core all the way out to his fingertips. He let go of her wrists and held her hips in both hands, buried as deeply as he could go. For a long time, he stayed there, his cock pulsing, his body shaking with the intensity of their connection.
When at last he could think with his head, not his dick, he lifted her off him and stood her on her feet. “We’re not done yet.”
“Good.” She flashed him a grin. “I bought new sheets, and I haven’t slept on them naked yet. I wanted to break them in with you.”
Remy burst out laughing. “For a badass female, I’d say that was the most feminine thing I’ve heard you say.” He slapped her ass and handed her the soap. “I’ll wash your hair while you finish up. And don’t take too long, I’m curious about how those sheets will feel against my skin. Then, when you’re good and fucked, you can tell me about your day.”
“That’s going to be a while. I want to make up for the month you’ve been gone, and I don’t want to spoil the experience by talking about work.”
“We frogmen have ways of making people talk.” He bent and tongued the curve of her neck.
“Yeah, I believe you do.” She sighed and leaned back against him. “Fine. I’ll talk, but after we check out the sheets.”
An hour later, Mitchell lay in the curve of Remy’s arms, tired, but not sleepy, satiated for the moment, but willing to do it again at the slightest nudge. In the midst of her happiness that Remy was home and safe, she couldn’t ignore the threatening pall of darkness from intruding on her joyful reunion with the man she loved.
“Okay, sweetheart, you’ve worn me out. All I can do is lie here and listen.” He pulled her against him, an arm wrapped around her shoulder, his hand dangling over her nipple, teasing it into a tight bud. “Tell me what happened.”
Drawing a deep breath, Mitchell started out slowly, describing the trial, the testimony from the victims and the remorseless expression on Rocco’s face. She went on to tell him about the crowd outside the courtroom, the van and the attack. She skipped over the part where Rocco directed his parting remark toward her as he left the courtroom. Why worry Remy, when he’d just gotten home from a much more dangerous mission? She moved against his side. “I’m not hurting your wound, am I?”
“Holy shit, Mitch. I’m fine.” His grip tightened. “But you could have been killed.”
She rested a hand on his chest. “I wasn’t even close.”
Remy lifted her chin. “The hell you weren’t. I saw the film clip.”
“I’m fine. That’s what matters.” She sighed. “He escaped, Remy. All that work to put him away for good and he fucking slipped through our fingers.”
“I’m more concerned about you.” He pulled her closer. “Rocco is a psychopath. From what I’ve read about him, he’s ruthless and vindictive. During that entire trial, did Rocco give you any indication he blamed you for busting up his operation and getting him thrown in the slammer?”
Trust Remy to get to the center of her concern. “Well, as a matter of fact…”
“Damn.” Remy leaned up on his elbow and stared down, his brow pulled into a frown. “That bastard is loose. What are the chances he’ll come after you?”
“Slim?” she replied, without conviction.
From the look in Remy’s eyes, he wasn’t buying her answer either. “Good thing we’re getting out of town tomorrow afternoon.”
She touched his chest with the tip of her finger. “About that…”
He captured her finger in his hand. “We’re getting out of town.”
“I probably need to stay and help the police and the NCIS find Rocco.”
“No way.” He jerked upright. “We’ve been planning this trip for months. I’ve had to sell my soul to Gunny and the LT to get the time off. We’re going. And I can’t think of a better way to get you out of range of that nut job than to take you halfway across the country.”
Mitchell chewed on her lip. The agent in her wanted to stay and put a stop to the psychopath. The woman in love wanted to please the man she cared about. Even if she stayed and worked the case, it could be a long time before they found Rocco. If he was smart, he’d get the hell out of town and lay low until the smoke cleared. Considering the men who’d sprung him had killed a cop and two reporters, she doubted the local police and the NCIS needed one more person on the manhunt.
Cop killers were raw meat to law enforcement personnel. They’d be rabid to find Rocco, and the men who’d freed him.
“Okay, we’ll go.”
Remy let go of the breath he’d held and grinned. “Good.” Dropping a light kiss on her forehead, he laid down beside her and drew her into his arms, his entire body relaxing against hers. “You won’t regret it. I think you’ll like my Christmas present.” With a yawn, he closed his eyes and nestled deeper into the mattress. “At least, I hope you do,” he muttered. “I put a lot of thought into it.”
From worry about Rocco to one more thing to worry about. Mitchell lay in the shadows, the moonlight taking the edge off the darkness, and stared up at the ceiling. When had Remy had time to go Christmas shopping for her? Hell, she had been stateside all this time and hadn’t even set a foot into a store. Well, damn. She’d have to wait until they got to the ski resort and find something there.
Having never been in a committed relationship through a Christmas holiday, she had completely forgotten that a gift exchange was expected. She hoped he hadn’t spent much on her. Hell, since he’d just gotten back from a deployment, he hadn’t had time to shop. He had to have been thinking about it long before he left. What guy thought about Christmas presents in October?
She turned toward Remy. He lay against the new sherbet-pink sheets. His dark skin and hair had been a sharp contrast to the ultra-feminine color, accentuating his masculinity. He’d teased her about lying in a bed that reminded him of cotton candy, but it hadn’t stripped him of any of his manliness. Broad shoulders, bulky biceps, and taut abs spoke of a man who prided himself on keeping fit for battle.
He’d come from a loving family who spent time together at Christmas. Whenever he spoke of his mother, he smiled. Of course, he’d think about gifts at Christmas time. With a mother he loved guiding him through the niceties of family life, he’d remember.
Mitchell sighed. Her own mother had died of breast cancer when she was nine. Her father had been so distraught by her passing that he’d barely spent time with Mitchell. On the rare occasion, he’d take her fishing or hunting. But he didn’t remember birthdays, and Christmas reminded him too much of her mother. More than once, Mitchell assured him the holiday didn’t mean anything to her, and that she didn’t mind when he forgot to give her gifts.
After losing her first fiancé to the war in the gulf, she’d almost given up on love and relationships. Until Remy had stepped in to comfort her in the hours after her fiancé’s funeral.
Boy, had that been a mess. They’d hooked up that night, before the ground Derek was buried in had time to settle. It took a year for her to forgive herself for falling in bed with his best friend only days after Derek’s death.
Since then, she knew in her heart that Derek would have been happy for her. Remy was the type of man she needed in her life. A man who understood her desire to work for the NCIS, the danger she faced and her need to be independent. He wouldn’t ask more of her than she was willing to give. And she wouldn’t expect more. Status quo was good. She snuggled against his side and inhaled the scent of soap and male. Life couldn’t get better.
Well, one aspect could get less complicated—if the police or NCIS rounded up the escaped Rocco.
Either way, she wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of enjoying her vacation with Remy.
Chapter Three
‡
Mitchell exited the bathroom after conducting her morning routine. She’d tried to rise without waking Remy and thought she’d succeeded, until she opened the bathroom door and found him dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and a black leather jacket. “Where are you going?”
>
“To my unit. I have to report in today, even if just for an hour. Gunny and the LT wanted to go over the debrief one more time before I left and forgot the details.” His lips twisted. “They said something about too much sex making you lose brain cells.”
She tossed a towel at his head. “Great. So you talk to your buddies about our sex life?”
“No, they talk to me about our sex life.” He chuckled. “They think I need advice and aren’t hesitant in the least to give it.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “They are jealous because I have one, and they don’t.”
“Oh, surely Tuck, Nacho and Fish aren’t jealous. They have lovely ladies in their lives.”
“Yeah, it’s not them. It’s the guys who are currently unattached.”
“Those guys need women.”
He lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Are you volunteering to play matchmaker?”
She snorted. “Do I look like the matchmaker type?”
“When you were pole dancing undercover at Rocco’s place, you could have fooled anyone.”
“Yeah, well, the boys won’t get to see me dance again.” She traced a line along his jaw to his lips. “The only person I dance for now…is you.”
He kissed her, tracing his own lines along the length of her tongue to the tip and back, while he rubbed his body against hers.
Mitchell’s insides revved and her blood burned hot through her veins. “If I didn’t have to go to the office…” she whispered into his mouth.
Remy lifted his head and frowned. “I thought you were off all day.”
“I was. But I want to check in on the hunt for Rocco.”
“Couldn’t you do that with a phone call?”
“I could, but I want to know how they’re handling it.” She smoothed a finger along his jaw. “Sometimes they don’t tell me everything over the phone.”
“I don’t like the idea of you running around town with a killer on the loose.” He kissed the tip of her nose and each of her cheeks. “Especially one who more-or-less threatened you.”