The OUT OF LINE Series

by Jen McLaughlin

  All she saw was what I used to be.

  She hesitated. “Finn, I don’t know if you’re ready yet…”

  “Why wouldn’t I be ready?” I stepped closer, and she tilted her face up toward mine. Her pupils flared, and she bit down on her lower lip again. “I’ve been ready since I met you.”

  Her mouth twitched into a reluctant smile. “You know what I mean. With people recovering from trauma, sex can be a trigger. It can make things worse. I don’t want to make you suffer—”

  “The only way I’ll suffer,” I cupped her face with my good hand, my thumb under her jawline, “is if you say no. So don’t say no.”

  Part of me needed to know she still wanted me, scars and all. She might be right, and this might not be good for my head, but fuck it. I needed it. I needed her.

  Carrie

  I knew this wasn’t a good idea. But when he looked down at me like that, all blue eyes and soft words, I couldn’t stop myself from giving him what he wanted—even if it wasn’t what he needed. The two didn’t always go hand in hand, did they?

  Reaching up on tiptoe, I curled my hands around his neck and kissed him, keeping it light and easy. I didn’t want to scare him off or be too pushy. I didn’t need to worry, I guess. He backed me across the room, his breath coming fast, his hand flexing on my chin. I knew he was frustrated with feeling helpless and broken, and I wished I could help him.

  Wished he would let me help him.

  I spun him so his back was toward the bed and pushed him gently onto it. Good thing he’d locked the door. As long as we were quiet, no one should know what we were up to. I straddled him, skimmed my hands up under his shirt, and sighed with satisfaction even as it bugged me that he was wearing a shirt. He never used to sleep with a shirt on. Was he hiding his wounds from himself, too? It seemed that way.

  I pulled back and studied him. His eyes were shut, and his cheeks flushed. He looked so freaking hot like this. Turned on and ready for me. All mine. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  He smoothed my hair off my face. “Of course I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” I reached for the bedside light, but he snatched my hand before I could turn it on. “What? What is it?”

  “No lights,” he rasped, his fingers tightening on mine. “I like it like this.”

  “Finn…” I swallowed hard. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

  “I’m not. I don’t want your dad to know.” He let go of my hand and hauled me closer. “That’s all.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t. He hadn’t let me see him yet. Hadn’t even taken his shirt off in front of me. But I couldn’t push it. Couldn’t push him. “Okay.”

  I kissed him, holding myself back again. I wasn’t sure how to be with him when he was being like this. Should I be bold? Or should I let him take the lead? I was out of my league here, and I knew it. He broke off the kiss and cursed under his breath before saying, “If you don’t want this from me anymore, then you can leave. I understand.”

  “I want this.” I tried to kiss him again, but he didn’t let me. “Finn, what’s wrong?”

  “You’re acting as if you can’t stand the thought of kissing me,” he rasped, his hand flexing on my hip. “I get it. I’m fucked up now and—”

  I slammed my mouth down on his, shutting him up before he insulted himself again. It was killing me to act as if he was going to break at any point, and I was done listening to him put himself down. Freaking done. He was gorgeous, injuries and all.

  His mouth opened under mine, so I slid my tongue inside, seeking his. As soon as I found it, heat shot through my body, making me tremble. I deepened the kiss, needing more of him. Needing to kiss him, touch him, love him. It had been too long since I’d gotten to kiss him like this. Feel him like this.

  His uninjured hand skimmed up my side before running down my arm. I shivered and ran my hands down his pecs, to the waist of his boxers. He arched his hips a little bit, pressing his erection against my core. God, that felt good. So good. For the first time since he’d come home, I wasn’t thinking of him as Finn, injured Marine.

  He was my Finn, and I needed him as badly as he needed me.

  “Fuck,” he moaned, arching into me again. “Lose the clothes.”

  “Yours first.” I slid down his body, pressing my open mouth against his neck.

  He gripped my hair tight, holding me in place. “Help me get these off.”

  I closed my hands over his boxers and nipped at his abs through the shirt. He hissed and tightened his grip on my hair. I wished I could see him right now. See him watching me with those blazing blue eyes I loved so much. But for now, quiet and rushed would have to do. I lowered his boxers over his hips, and he helped me get them off by lifting his hips slightly. I tossed them off the bed and climbed between his legs. “Condom?”

  “Drawer,” he said, his voice strangled. “Left side, top.”

  I didn’t bother to ask him when and how they’d gotten there. I climbed over him and retrieved one, but didn’t put it on him yet. I lifted his shirt and licked his abs, grinning when he groaned. I loved driving him insane. Loved making him squirm with need. Loved him so much it hurt. I skimmed my hands up his thighs while flicking my tongue over the head of his cock. My cheeks heated as I did so, knowing I was totally disobeying pretty much every rule my parents had laid down when they allowed Finn to stay here to recover…

  And not even caring a little bit about it.

  He gripped my hair, begging for more without making a sound. I closed my mouth around him, swirling my tongue over the smooth skin of his erection. He squirmed, moving restlessly against the white sheets. “Carrie.”

  I sucked him in deeper, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could, and yet still wanting more. I’d never get sick of this. Never get sick of him. I cupped his balls, squeezing gently as I increased the suction, going up and down with perfect timing.

  He let out a ragged moan, but bit it back abruptly. It brought me back to a time when he’d teased me about being too loud in bed. He’d proceeded to prove his point by making me scream his name repeatedly, and I’d done so quite happily. It had been back when we’d thought we were going to D.C. together. Before he deployed.

  My heart squeezed tight at the memory. Of his laughter ringing in my ears on that day. He’d been so light. So free. I didn’t think he’d ever be that way again.

  “Carrie. I need you so damn much.” He threaded his hand in my hair and tugged me up his body. “Kiss me. Love me.”

  My heart twisted at the need in his voice. I couldn’t help it. “Always.”

  I kissed him, making sure to not press my weight on his broken arm, while putting all the emotions I couldn’t put into words into that kiss. He didn’t want to talk about anything, and that was fine for now. But he needed to know I was here. Needed to know I wasn’t leaving. His lips hesitated under mine, almost as if he was receiving my message loud and clear, and then he groaned and held me against his body as tight as he could with a casted arm between us.

  Then he let go and picked up the condom, ripping it open with his teeth before holding it out to me. “Put this on me.”

  I took it and rolled it down his cock with trembling hands. Once the condom was firmly in place, I tried to kiss him again, but he pressed his fingers against my mouth. “Get naked first. Then I’ll make you come so many times you’ll lose count. It’s been too long.”

  He was always alpha in bed—and out of it—but this was different. And it was hot. I slid off the bed and quickly stripped out of my pajama pants and tank top. Next, I shimmied out of my underwear. I stood there for a second, knowing I was silhouetted in the moonlight for him. And he seemed to appreciate the view, judging from the way his voice rasped when he said, “Get back here now.”

  I climbed onto the bed, my heart racing as I crawled between his legs and kissed him again, my bare butt in the air. It felt decadent to be so casual about what we were doing—and where we were doing it. He curled his h
and around the back of my head and hauled me closer, kissing me passionately. My stomach twisted into a tight coil, demanding more.

  Demanding what I knew he could give me. It had been so long. Too long. And I needed more. I let out a moan of my own when he dipped his hand between my thighs, finding my clit easily. He rubbed two fingers against me in a circular motion, applying the perfect pressure to send me over the edge.

  He broke off the kiss and bit down on my shoulder, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. “Finn.”

  “You like that?” he asked, his voice rough and low. “You want more?”

  “God, yes.” I dug my nails into his sides, making sure that I didn’t bump against his injury as I squirmed. “More.”

  He rubbed my clit rougher, making me bite back a scream. God, I was so close. I could feel the pressure building higher and higher, and soon I would break. He knew it, too. I could tell by the way he was playing with me. Torturing me.

  It was oh-so-delicious and incredibly frustrating.

  I didn’t know whether to beg for mercy, or kick his butt for doing this to me.

  “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He increased the pressure. “Did you rub your fingers against yourself and pretend it was me? Did you come with my name on your lips?”

  I groaned and moved my hips restlessly. I was almost there. Almost to heaven. Part of his words didn’t even register with me. I was that far gone. “I…I can’t talk like that.”

  “Answer me.” He thrust a finger inside me, and I whimpered and buried my face in his neck. I had to be quiet. Had to make sure no one knew what we were doing. “Did you fuck yourself when I was gone?”

  Of course I had, but it had never felt like this. Only he made me feel this good. But I couldn’t tell him that. “J-Just keep touching me. Don’t…” I moved against his fingers, straining to get even closer. “You…dare…stop.”

  And then he did. He stopped touching me. Just hovered there, almost brushing against me, but remaining still. Yeah. I was going to beg for mercy. Then, after I was done, I’d kill him. “Tell. Me.”

  “Finn.” I grabbed his hand and pressed it back where I wanted it. No, where I needed it. He couldn’t stop now. Not when I was so close. “Please.”

  “Tell me the truth, and then I will.”

  “Y-Yes. I did it, okay?” I moaned when he rubbed me again, but too lightly. Not enough. Not nearly enough. I knew I was being too loud, but even knowing it didn’t make me stop. “Finn, please.”

  “You touched yourself and imagined it was me?” He nibbled on my neck and thrust a finger inside me again. Thank freaking God. “Was it my lips or my fingers when you did it?”

  I whimpered, low and desperate. “Your lips. Always your lips.”

  His fingers stilled. “Then I can’t disappoint you now.” His hand was gone, and I wanted to shout, scream, and cry. He slapped the side of my ass. “Climb on top.”

  “I am on…” Comprehension lit up within me, as well as desire. So much desire. “You don’t mean for me to…”

  “I do.” He tugged my leg. “Hurry the fuck up. I need to taste you. To make you come on my mouth.”

  I trembled just from the words. And the image…oh my God, the image that gave me. I wanted it now. I positioned myself so I straddled him, a knee on either side of his head—and clear of his injured arm—and then lowered myself to his face. It was so dirty and raw and right. So freaking right.

  God, yes.

  His tongue touched my clit, and I closed my hands over the top of the headboard so tight it hurt my palms, and dropped my head against the light blue wall. God, this must look so hot. Him under me, with me basically sitting on his face. We’d never done it this way. It was different and amazing. And oh my God…

  His good hand cupped my butt, his fingers digging in enough to hurt just enough, and his mouth moved over my clit with the perfect amount of pressure. I stopped thinking, stopped picturing this, and just lost myself in his touch. The tightness in my belly grew harsher, focusing on his mouth moving over me.

  His tongue, his teeth, his hands…

  Everything within me gathered real close before exploding in fragments of pleasure and need. I collapsed with my forehead against the wall, and he kept his tongue pressed against my sensitive clit as I came back down from the high he’d given me. By the time I could gather my thoughts, he moved his tongue, which was featherlight and almost nonexistent on me.

  I came again, explosive and hard. Much harder than the first time.

  I tore free of his grip when he tried to keep going down on me, and he let me. I slid down his body, kissing him hard. He tasted more like me than him, but I didn’t care. I needed him. Needed this. I positioned his cock at my entry and lowered myself on him, swallowing his groan with my mouth.

  His hand gripped my hip while his broken arm rested on his chest, and he urged me to move faster. I didn’t have any complaints about that. I pumped my hips fast and hard, my breathing growing more and more fevered with each thrust. His fingers dug into my thigh, and a tortured groan came from him as he tensed beneath me.

  I closed my eyes and moved even faster. I was so close to coming again. I could feel it. Taste it. Sense it. I pressed my mouth to his and lost myself in the pleasure, the kiss, and him. The orgasm took me by surprise, even though I’d known I was close. But it felt different this time. More whole. As if it was more intense than ever before, and maybe it was.

  He froze beneath me, his back curved and his fingers tight on me, and then he collapsed onto the mattress, his breathing unsteady and hard. I melted against his chest, my head on his good shoulder and my hand curled under his neck. “Wow.”

  His hand flexed on me. “Yeah,” he rasped.

  Something in his voice told me he wasn’t all right. I lifted my head and checked his broken arm. I hadn’t been lying on it or anything. I tried to search the darkness to see his face, but I could only make out vague shapes. I couldn’t see him. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t his laugh. It was strained. “I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” I scooted off him. “You’d tell me if you weren’t all right, right? We promised, no more lies.”

  “Honestly? I don’t think you’d want to know whether I was lying right now.” He stood up, removed the condom, and came back to the bed. “You don’t need to know everything that’s in my head. I just need time to adjust.”

  That’s exactly what my father had said. That he needed time.

  “Okay. Then I’ll give it to you. Just know I’m here to talk, or whatever.”

  After a second of hesitation, he lay back down and wrapped his arm around me before kissing my forehead. “I know you are. If I need to talk, I’ll let you know.”

  “That’s all I can ask for, minus one thing.”

  He stiffened. “What?”

  “Don’t lie to me again.” I propped myself on my elbows. “Whatever happens, whatever you go through, just don’t lie to me. I can handle a lot, but not that.”

  He nodded slowly, his shadowed face intent on mine. “Okay. No lies. But don’t ask me things I’m not ready for. The stuff that happened over there…”

  His voice cracked, but he cleared his throat to hide it. It broke my heart that he was so vulnerable, yet unwilling to show it. “I won’t push,” I promised. “Not yet.”

  “I can’t talk about it.” His jaw flexed. “I won’t.”

  “Okay.” I scooted up and kissed him. “Want me to stay until you fall asleep?”

  He hesitated. “Would it make me less of a man if I said yes? If I admitted I needed you more than I need medicine? You’re the reason I keep going. You’re why I’m still here, instead of in that fucking nightmare I can’t escape.”

  My heart... Yep. It totally melted.

  “Nope, not at all.” I sat up and pulled the covers over us before settling back down on the pillow. It was weird, in a way, how you went from sitting on a
guy’s face to snuggling under the covers and holding each other for support. “It would make you the man I love more than anything.”

  His fingers flexed on my hip, and he nodded. “Are you too tired?”

  I was freaking exhausted. I’d been sitting up with him almost every night. But if he knew that, he’d send me away. His sleep was more important than mine, so I lied. Ironic, considering I’d just lectured him about not lying to me.

  This was different. He needed me here.

  “Nope. Wide-awake. I had coffee earlier.” That much was true.

  He smiled. I didn’t see it, but I could feel it. “I wish I could manage without sleep like you. I used to be able to…before…”

  He broke off. He wasn’t going to finish that thought.

  I rested my hand over his heart. “You’ll get there again.”

  “I know.” He yawned, loud and long. “It’ll happen soon.”

  I smiled and ignored the tears in my eyes. “Get some rest. I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “And neither am I,” he whispered sleepily.

  The next afternoon, I stood at the window, watching the snow fall to the snow-covered lawn, and let myself breathe it in. I’d dozed off on the sofa for a little while after eating my lunch, and I’d woken up sweating and screaming. Not knowing exactly where I was or even if I’d live. Like fucking usual.

  Good thing no one had been here to see or hear it. It was bad enough I knew about my weakness—I didn’t need Senator Wallington knowing too. He’d already warned me he wouldn’t stand by and watch me hurt his daughter when he’d visited me in the hospital in Germany. His words may have been cryptic, but they were crystal clear.

  I know you love my girl, Griffin. And I know she loves you, too. I get why you fell for her. Who wouldn’t? It doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, though. Or that I’ll accept it. Get well, son. For both of our sakes.

  That last part? Yeah, it meant “get better, or get the hell out of her life.” I knew it. He knew it. And I wasn’t getting better. Not yet. Maybe not ever. My good hand tightened on the coffee mug I held. I wanted something stronger. Something to take the pain away. But I resisted, for Carrie.