by Sybil Bartel
Work? “You have a job?” Already? He’d been gone two months, hell, he’d been gone since I’d known him. I wanted time. A lot of time. With him.
“Yes.” Smiling, he leaned over and kissed my cheek. “And you have a shit poker face.” He tucked his keys, wallet and phone into his pockets.
“I mean, I thought, you just got home...” I didn’t think he’d be a slacker or anything, but jeez. “Don’t you want to take a little time off?” To spend with me?
“I am taking time off. Until your birthday.” He winked.
“My birthday?”
“Yes, September twenty-eighth, the day you were born, your birthday.”
“That sounds like we have plans.” I was not a birthday person.
He nodded. “We do.”
I sat on the edge of the bed. “On my birthday?”
“Yes—and the day after...and the day before.”
I buried my head in my hands, tried to suck in a calming breath then looked back up. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what those plans are?”
“Nope.” His smile was back, but it was more smug than anything else and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
“I don’t do surprises.” Like really, really didn’t do them. I’d had plenty of surprises in my life, I was done with them.
“Since when?” he asked casually.
“Since forever. Me and surprises are like oil and water. We don’t mix. It’s almost as bad as me and birthdays, but not quite. Because birthdays are just another day and there’s nothing important about another day. Like Christmas or Easter or Halloween, although that last one I can kinda get behind. I’m okay with costumes. I’m good at pretending, in fact, I’m an expert at it, but holidays? Birthdays? Those are just days.” A day you didn’t have to feel sad about because you were alone or because no one else in the world cared if you were dead or alive. “They even have the same name every week. They’re just days. I don’t do special days.”
Buck just stood there like he was stunned, or speechless, I couldn’t tell because his face, it gave nothing away.
“I know that face.” That wasn’t a good face. “That’s the soldier face. But I can’t say soldier, you’re a marine. So, I could say marine face, but I don’t, in my mind, I say warrior. But it’s not the warrior face right now because your eyes aren’t dead, they have an expression, which is kinda weird, because the warrior face, the marine face, it’s expressionless. It’s a nothing face, no hint, no emotion, no nothing to give away a single thought in your head, so right now, it’s that face, but it’s more, like a little surprised or maybe like you want to run.” I tilted my head. “Yeah, that’s it. You don’t know what to do with me right now, do you?”
“Layna,” he said patiently.
“It’s okay, I get it. I wouldn’t know what to do with me right now either because obviously you planned something for my birthday and you’re just now figuring out that maybe it might not go down how you thought. Am I right? I’m right, right?”
“Layna.”
I sucked in a breath. “Yeah?”
“It’s your birthday,” he said pointedly.
“Yeeaahh, about that.” I twisted my hands.
“Three hundred and sixty-five days in a single year and only one date is important above all others to me. Do you know why?”
Um. “No?”
“September twenty-eighth. Without that single day, I wouldn’t have you.”
Air whooshed out of my lungs.
He stepped toward me. “I’m going to celebrate that day.”
I stared at him.
He grasped my chin and lowered his voice. “All day, with you.”
With me. My birthday. Buck and me, on my birthday...celebrating. “Okay,” I said feebly.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he said gently, cutting straight to the heart of it for me.
Not alone. “Okay,” I whispered.
“I’m going to take you away for the weekend, okay?”
“Mm-hm,” I murmured because I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat.
Tenderly, reverently, he kissed me. “Go. Get dressed.”
Out of breath, not sure what just happened, I changed the subject. “Is this a date?”
“Yes.” He smiled.
“We’ve never been on a date.”
“I know,” he said seriously.
The anxiety of a minute ago dissolved into nervous excitement. “Our first date.”
Slowly, he tugged the towel from my body. His eyes traced a line from my lips, down my throat to my breasts. His warm hand cupped my breast and his thumb dragged over my tight nipple.
My lips parted with a small gasp. “I want you, bad.”
He pinched my nipple and heat shot straight to the juncture of my legs.
“I know,” he said roughly.
My back arched and my legs spread of their own accord.
His hand dropped to my aching core. Slowly, so slowly, he dragged his fingers through my heat. “So wet for me,” he murmured.
Needing to feel him, I reached for his belt.
His free hand pushed me away as his fingers teased me with a torturously slow rhythm. “No. Just you.”
Lustful, shameless, I grabbed his hand and pushed my hips against his fingers. I rose on tiptoe, my legs spread wider and I curled my other hand around his waist for purchase. “I want to come.”
His chuckle was low and sultry. “I know, baby.” His thumb danced across my clit then he thrust two fingers inside me.
Swollen, turned on, desperate, my head fell back and I ground my hips.
His hot mouth closed over my left breast, then his hand began to move, really move. “Say my name,” he commanded.
I started to spiral. “Blaze, oh my God, Blaze.”
His tongue plunged into my mouth, his thumb pressed hard and my body convulsed around him. Shaking, coming, he pushed his fingers deep and rode out my orgasm with me. When the last ripple of desire left me, he slowly pulled his fingers out.
He nipped at my neck, then kissed right below my jaw. Standing to his full height, he gazed down at me. “So fucking sexy.”
Wrung out, vision hazy, blissfully happy, I ran my palm over the huge bulge in his pants. He pushed against my hand and groaned. Emboldened, I sank to my knees and reached for his zipper.
Every muscle in his body tensed.
My heart kicked into overdrive and I peered up at him.
A fire burning in his eyes, he stared down at me.
Slowly, so slowly, I pulled his zipper down.
Jaw set, hands fisted, he didn’t move.
I undid his belt.
He didn’t blink.
But when I pulled him free and gripped his hard length, his eyes closed. Terrified, excited, with no idea what I was doing, I closed my mouth around him and sucked.
Buck jerked and a low moan shook his chest.
A drop of salty warmth teased my tongue and I worked my hand up and down.
One hand grabbed my hair and fisted. “Deeper.”
I slid my mouth down, feeling every inch of his rigid heat.
“Jesus.” He thrust his hips, pushing himself further into my mouth.
I grabbed him with both hands and squeezed as I pulled him out. Licking the head, I brought my mouth down slow, marveling that this, that he, fit inside of me.
When he hit the back of my throat, a groan ripped from his chest and his other hand flew to my head. Gripping two handfuls of my hair, he pulled tight, slid out partway then shoved back in my mouth. “Fuck,” he muttered, stilling himself.
I pushed up on my knees and took him in as far as I could go. My hands grasped his ass and I did it again.
Seizing the sides of my hea
d, he began to pound into me. Dominating the rhythm, the depth, the speed, he fucked my mouth and I loved every second of it.
Jerking, he pulled out and fisted himself. “I’m gonna come.”
I lurched forward and wrapped my lips around him just as hot saltiness pumped into my mouth. Buck growled incoherently, fueling a new wave of sharp need that throbbed between my legs. Beyond aroused, I moaned and swirled my tongue. Two strong hands gripped under my arms and brought me to my feet. Chest heaving, eyes hooded, Buck grabbed my face then drove his tongue into my mouth and devoured me with his kiss.
Chapter Forty-Three
The restaurant was expensive and dimly lit. Buck sat back in the booth like he owned the place.
“Comfortable?” I smiled, taking a sip of the wine he’d ordered for me.
His gaze slid over my low-cut dress. “Comfortable isn’t the first word that comes to mind.” He took the glass out of my hand and had a sip.
“You drink now?”
“Special occasion.”
I grinned. It was a special occasion, the best occasion. He was home. “So, what’s the job? And for the record, you’re making me feel a little bit like a slacker.”
He set the wine down. “I’m discussing a partnership with André. You’re not a slacker.”
“I don’t have a job, that’s a pretty good definition of a slacker. Partnership?”
“Yes. Do you want a job?”
I thought about that a minute. I didn’t want a job so much as I wanted a purpose. I shrugged. “I’ve been watching Conner a few mornings a week.” I liked it, loved it actually, but now that Buck was home, I’d told Ariel I’d be unavailable for a few weeks. I felt bad but she told me not to sweat it, then made a joke that free labor wasn’t what it used to be. “Tell me about the partnership.”
“Who’s Conner?”
“Ariel’s son.”
He nodded. “I have a few ideas for expanding his business and I can bring in my own clients.”
“I guess that means you decided against flying for Roark?” Not that I minded, I was just happy he was here and going to stay.
“I might fly for the security firm, it’s one of the things I have to discuss with André. You didn’t tell me about taking care of a two-year-old.”
“It just sort of popped up. André asked Ariel to work for him a few days a week and I offered. I haven’t been doing it long.” I shrugged like it was no big deal, like Conner wasn’t everything that was pure and sweet.
Watching me intently, he took a sip of water. “What’s he like?”
My heart swelled and I smiled. “He’s beautiful. And curious and cuddly and he loves to swim.”
“Are you ready to try again?”
I didn’t see that coming. I should have, but I didn’t. I fidgeted in my seat. “A child’s a lot of responsibility.”
“Yes, if you’re raising one alone,” he said pointedly.
The waitress showed up with our meals, saving me from having to reply. The scent of the food made me realize I was starving. I dug into my pasta as Buck cut into his steak. We ate, we tasted each other’s dishes, we chatted about silly things like what movies he’d missed or the most recent celebrity scandals. It was nice, better than nice. After the waitress took our plates and we ordered dessert, Buck leaned back and a casual expression stole over his face.
“Can we talk about your birthday?”
“Okay,” I said sheepishly.
“I’d like to take you to Key West.”
I dipped my head so he couldn’t see my embarrassment. “I’m sorry, about earlier.”
His hand reached across the table and he tipped my chin up. “I’m not.”
“But I ruined your surprise.”
“We’re coming at this from a different angle than most couples. It’s going to take time before we know everything about each other. I need to know what upsets you, and I want to know what makes you sad as much as I want to know what makes you happy. You didn’t ruin anything. I have more information than I did earlier today and that’s a win in my book.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“Is Key West okay?”
I loved it there, I always had. It was quaint and funky and full of history. It was also full of memories, but I didn’t say that. “Yes.”
“I chose it for a reason,” he said cautiously before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “I’d like to give you new memories.”
He was perfect, truly, amazingly perfect. “I love you,” I whispered.
Chapter Forty-Four
I turned off the hair dryer and ran the brush through my hair. For once, it came out shiny and smooth. I watched Buck come up behind me in the mirror. Being with him almost every minute of the past two weeks had been heaven, but I still got butterflies in my stomach every time I laid eyes on him. No longer shy in front of him, I didn’t try to cover my nakedness or avert my eyes.
His impossibly huge arms snaked around my waist, and his USMC tattoo bulged with the flex of his muscles. He kissed my shoulder and met my eyes in the mirror. “Would you like to go to dinner?”
I turned and went on tiptoe to wrap my arms around his neck. The question surprised me. We’d been in Key West all week, and every night we’d gone to a different restaurant for dinner. “Why? Do you want to stay in tonight?”
He buried his face in my neck, and his tongue trailed a line from my ear to my throat that I felt all the way to my stomach.
“Not a bad way to spend the evening of your birthday,” he murmured.
I moaned and felt his desire for me as he grabbed my hip and pulled me close. Our lips crashed together in heated frenzy, then just as quickly he pulled back.
“Dinner?” he asked, his eyes dark with desire.
“Okay,” I breathed out my response before my mind knew what I was saying. It would probably always be this way, because when he looked at me like nothing else in the world existed, I wanted to crawl through fire for him.
He quickly kissed me. “Wait here.”
I watched the muscles in his shoulders and his back as he gracefully strode into the bedroom. Thirty seconds later he came back with slinky ivory material in one hand and a small box in the other. Before I could question him, he spun me around, set the box on the counter and slipped the material over my head. Whisper-soft silk slid down my body. Tiny straps with beads sewn on them hung delicately on my shoulders. The empire waist flared to a graceful sweep and fell to my ankles. Stunned, I stared at my reflection.
I looked pretty, so pretty. “Where did you—” I couldn’t even finish the thought. Turning from side to side, the silk floated across my hips as if it were made for me. I couldn’t have picked a more stunning dress if I’d made it myself. “This is beautiful. You bought this for me?”
“You’re beautiful, and yes, I picked it out.” Buck opened the box on the counter and I caught a sparkle of light. With surprising dexterity and quickness, his thick fingers gently put earrings in my ears and secured them with the backings.
My heart fluttered and I looked up at him. Even with the slightest hint of a frown, his expression guarded, I was struck by how handsome he was. “And earrings?”
A firm hand grasped my chin and brought my face back to the mirror. “Next time you’re sad, wear my jewelry.”
Hanging on delicate chains from two brilliant round diamonds, perfect cultured pearls swung elegantly from my ears. I turned slightly and the earrings swayed like palm trees in the afternoon trade winds. Water filled my eyes.
“Know that I love you, more than anything.” He kissed my temple. “Happy birthday, baby.”
I fingered one of the smooth pearls. “Blaze, I...” I didn’t know what to say. He’d already given me flying lessons that morning for my present.
“I will always take care of you, Layna,” he said with a quiet forcefulness.
I couldn’t speak anymore. I simply nodded and lifted my head, needing him. As if he could read my thoughts, Buck brought his lips down and kissed me so softly, I lost all sense of being except who I was when I was in his arms.
“My Layna,” he whispered fiercely.
“My Blaze,” I whispered back, smiling with all my heart.
“Happy?” he asked seriously.
“Yes.” So very happy.
Inhaling, he stepped back. “Give me five minutes, we’ll go to dinner.”
“Five?” I teased. He was the king of two-minute showers. Exactly two minutes.
The ghost of a smile I’d come to love danced in his eyes. “Go pick out some shoes.”
“I hate shoes.” I smiled wider.
“I know.”
I fell against him. “I love that you know that and I love my earrings and I love my new dress. Thank you.” I kissed his bare chest and looked up at him with a mischievous grin. “And I’m not wearing any underwear.”
A sexy, low sound of need came from the back of Buck’s throat and his fingers skimmed across my breasts. This time, I was the one who stepped back.
I lifted the hem of my dress a few inches. “Want to see?”
Chest heaving, eyes burning into mine, he didn’t move.
I twirled around and looked over my shoulder. The possessive look on his face made me brave. “Or...I could just go find some sandals.” I dropped the silky material and walked out.
One step out of the bathroom and a warm hand caught my nape as Buck’s breath touched my ear. His fingers ran down my arm and gooseflesh rushed up my spine.
“Underwear only, no bra,” he whispered.
I shivered, wondering what exactly he had planned during dinner. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands leaving me.
I turned to kiss him but he was gone.
I wandered over to my suitcase and picked through the clothes and shoes I’d thrown together. I found a lace thong and stepped into it. Pulling out a pair of high-heeled nude sandals with two thin straps, I slipped them on, then checked my reflection in the mirror over the dresser.