RECYCLED MEMORY

  “Hmm… There you are, my little minx. So fucking sexy.”

  “That felt so good, Marcus. I want more.”

  I’d never been a patient man. The idea of waiting for something you desperately wanted was a form of fuckery I had zero use for. Buck used to call me a brahma bull, that if it wasn’t for my brothers stepping in, I would’ve been put to ground before my eighteenth birthday. He’d worried that my fuck-shit-up-ask-questions-later approach was the reason I got into so much trouble. I needed to learn how to harness my aggression, he said. Yeah, what the fuck ever. Buck sent me to Master Lim for that very reason, to learn self-restraint. Shit never took hold. When I wanted something, I went after it. Period. Fuck waiting.

  “Step back, Pocket. I need to see all of you.” I pressed the palm of my hand flat against her naked chest and gave her a slight shove.

  “Take off the rest, Maribel. Want all access, baby.”

  “Kind of one sided, don’t you think?” She unbuttoned her pants. “When do I get to see the goods, tough guy? A girl needs a little Magic Mike action every now and again to get the motor running.”

  She could talk that shit all she wanted to as long as she got naked while she did it. I couldn’t wait to wipe that idiotic grin off her face while I made her choke on the head of my dick. Her fake bravado and school girl taunts were laughable. I appreciated the effort, but Maribel had no idea who she was fuckin’ with, and that made the prospect of what was about to happen exhilarating. The tingle in my balls, the throb along the shaft of my cock, her delectable naked body on display way out here in the woods where no one could hear her scream. I was one lucky motherfucker. OORAH!

  “Lie down on the cot and spread your legs, baby. Wide enough for me to see your sweet cunt dripping wet before I fuck it.”

  I was still fully clothed and hadn’t allowed her to touch me yet. She would know the reason why soon enough. Maribel made three mistakes before her head touched the familiar pink pillow that had called this cabin its home over the last eight years. She turned her back and flashed the rounded globes of her delicate ass in my direction. The urge to turn it pink with my hand was outweighed only by my desire to fuck it. I unzipped my jeans and released my hardened cock with a satisfied groan. I stroked my shaft long and hard, just enough to ease the hunger, while I watched her make mistake number two. Maribel lifted her leg and settled her right knee on the edge of the cot. I had the perfect view of her naked cunt, pink and swollen with her arousal. A light sheen of wetness glistened along the inside of her thighs. Her last error in judgment was the moment she followed my instructions to the letter and submissively spread her legs without a word of sauce.

  Now it was my turn.

  “Did you miss my cock inside your pussy, Maribel?” I demanded to know.

  I watched her pant and squirm the longer I made her wait for me to make my move. Beautiful.

  “Yes, Marcus, so much. Please…” She tried to reach down and finger herself.

  “Did I tell you to touch my pussy?” I growled. “Nobody touches what’s mine, including you, little pocket. You feel me?”

  “No, but I….” I leered in her direction at her sassy rebuke. “Yes, yes, please, Marcus, hurry.”

  She was desperate for my dick. It was time I gave it to her. I let go of my hardened cock just long enough to shuck my jeans and boxers. Maribel licked her lips at the sight of my cockhead dripping with pre-come; red and angry, jutting north in her direction. That wasn’t the cock of an eighteen-year-old she was used to; no, it was the cock of a beast who knew how to use it to his full advantage. I lifted my shirt over my head. Never once did I take my eyes off her until the moment of truth. She sucked in a mouthful of air and chocked down a sob once she caught sight of the rewards of war.

  My scarred chest.

  They told the story of how hard I fought to get back to my family, my life, and to her. Some big, some small. Jagged pieces of flesh raised or smooth, they littered my chest both horizontally and vertically from my neck to my torso. Maribel’s anguished look of remorse provoked my inner fury so entirely I shook with barely-contained wrath. It was the very reason I never told her about them until today. That look. I hoisted her from the cot under both of her arms and slammed her down on my hard cock before she knew what hit her. Thank Christ, she was wet enough to take me. I slid inside her welcoming hole without a single hitch.

  “Don’t you dare fuckin’ cry for me. Don’t you fucking dare, Maribel.” I hammered into her harder, forcing her to cry out with pain mixed with euphoria.

  “You wanna cry about something, woman?” I barked in her face, ignoring the wetness pooling at the corners of her eyes while she moaned earnestly. Fuck. She’s magnificent. “You cry for this big dick fucking your tight little pussy. Cry for your motherfuckin’ life.”

  Maribel wrapped her legs around my waist and held on to my wrists in order to find purchase. My hips worked like a piston, in and out. I pounded her pussy until I was sure it was raw. The odd position we found ourselves in wasn’t exactly ideal for dual participation, which left me no choice but to release her. I untangled her legs from around me and threw her down on her knees in the middle of the cot. I filled her warm sheath from behind in one fluid motion and stilled. Her small frame was perfect for taking me from this angle. My anger gradually receded to a low simmer as I tempered my brutal attack on her sex. Our bodies slowed to a rhythmic rocking motion. Synced as one, we surrendered to the pleasure between us.

  I pressed her back against my scarred chest and held her close. “I would fight to my last breath to keep you safe,” I growled next to her ear. “You’re mine now, Maribel. Come for me, baby.”

  I rotated my hips in a slow circular motion while my fingers worked her clit. She threw her head back and screamed my name as she came apart in my arms. I roared through my release seconds after. Her cunt squeezed my cock like a vice as we settled together as we’d done so many times before. We snuggled connected under a gray surplus blanket, safe and warm, atop a silly-ass girly pink pillow. Fucking perfect.

  “I was always yours, tough guy,” Maribel whispered as she drifted off to sleep. Sated.

  Mine.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Maribel

  WE’D TRAVELED APART DOWN two separate paths, yet we were never unconnected in our suffering. Marcus wore his physical scars of combat as deeply as I carried my mental ones. We’d survived to grow into the people we were meant to be, which wasn’t vastly different from the ones we always had been. Marcus was born to be a hero; he protected his brothers at the junkyard, his grandmother, and me—minus the fancy uniform, of course. He never needed it in my book. I much preferred his bad boy leather jacket anyway. Just call me shallow. He was the first to throw down with fists raised to all who dared. Fuck the odds on winning; that shit never mattered. Safeguarding his own was the objective; that magnanimous character surely made him the perfect soldier. Now, he rode a ridiculous black motorcycle, shot men without remorse, and fucked like a man possessed. In a word, Marcus was one badass motherfucker, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I measured up to his expectations now that I was no longer just a girl.

  Had I transformed that much from the teenage girl with stars in her eyes to the independent woman who took care of herself? I’d always been on my own; my parents had followed me through email correspondence, and school had been the only thing they’d cared about. The relationship between Marci and me had always been volatile, from as far back as I could remember. I certainly looked different. Gone was the unruly red hair and lab coat; I’d replaced it with a waitress apron and a cropped pixie cut. I was smart, insanely driven, and I held those dearest to me closest to my heart. Set all that other bullshit aside, and I was still just me. Maribel.

  The crazy thoughts flying around inside my head threatened to overshadow the sated feeling courtesy of the man who spooned behind me. Marcus was wide awake, his hard cock pressed deliciously against the opening between my ass cheeks. One little push would land him i
nside my virgin hole, a prospect that forced a moan from my lips and my legs to clamp together. I yearned to feel him again, to take me on a journey of new discovery using our bodies as the road map. I shimmied out from under Marcus’s heavy arm that was draped across my breasts. Once free, I twisted my hips and hooked a leg over his hips for leverage, then hoisted upward until I was straddled above him in one unsteady motion.

  My heart began to pound in my chest when I looked down into his sleepy bedroom eyes and he returned my gaze with a knowing smirk. Marcus was built like a brick shithouse, and he damn well knew it. Trim waist with muscles for days, herculean fucking goodness that caused my mouth to water with just one peek. I marveled at his stature while I silently thanked the United States Armed Services for their contribution to womankind. My fingertips danced along his strong pectoral muscles, and my desire skyrocketed to outer limits when he hissed through clenched teeth at my gentle ministrations.

  “May I touch these?” My hand hovered above one of his scars, a huge jagged thing that looked like a child’s paper scissors project in grade school.

  “As long as I get to watch my come run down the inside of your thighs, have at it, baby. Didn’t use no rubber when I fucked you. You okay with that?” Am I?

  “Drew and I haven’t um… It’s been a few months since Drew and I last…” Shit. Why was that so hard to say? “I’m clean, Marcus. We always practiced safe sex whenever we um… you know.”

  “Whenever you two fucked?” My face flamed with embarrassment. “Good to know, little pocket. I’m clean, too, in case you were wondering. Government rules for soldiers.”

  My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

  “Thought you wanted to touch me? Dick talk changed your mind?” His brows rose.

  There were so many blemishes to his beautiful skin I didn’t know where to start. I imagined the pain he must have endured during his time in the Marines. The constant threat from an unseen enemy hell bent on destroying any and all who crossed their path. His selfless vow to keep fighting no matter what and return to me when his time in the war was over. At the very least he deserved my gratitude for his service. But I’d settle for giving him my heart.

  “We missed so much time, Marcus, time we can never get back,” I whispered.

  “Don’t need it back,” he barked. “Seen our future, baby, and that shit looks fucking amazing,” he sounded, so sure, but I still didn’t believe him.

  “What did you see, Marcus?” I stroked the light stubble on his chin; my fingers searched for the small indentation I loved so much and found it easily.

  “I see my ring on your finger when you become my wife.” He grabbed my hand and stuck the third digit inside his warm, wet mouth, then released it with a pop.

  “I see your breasts heavy with milk while you carry my child inside your belly.”

  He splayed his large palms over my tits and squeezed them gently. His sure strokes produced a slow simmer low within my belly. The moment he used his thumbs to tweak my nipples, I was a goner. My pussy flowed with a stream of wetness that surely coated his chest with a layer of my heated desire.

  “I see us growing old together, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch at the junkyard while our grandchildren laugh and play at our feet,” he finished with a blinding smile so brilliant, I’d be a fool not to buy into his vision.

  “You painted the perfect picture, Marcus. Are you sure I’m the perfect woman?’ I teased.

  “Damn right, I’m sure. My fucking prize for these.” He pointed to his scars. “And for the soldiers who never made it back home to their families. My fucking gift for the sacrifices we both made for each other.”

  I’d finally found it.

  Jiminy fucking Cricket.

  That illusive thing that made life worth fighting for. It had been there all along, right in front of my face, but I’d refused to see it until just that moment. Buck Calhoun, that old snake charmer, said it was up to me to decide what was worth fighting for and to give it all I’ve got when I figured it out. I could have strangled him when he left me hanging without a decisive answer to my pleas for guidance. If he were alive, I’d thank him from the bottom of my heart for pointing me in the right direction without spoiling the destination. I looked down into the eyes of the man beneath me and knew right away that it wasn’t love that was worth the fight; it was hope. Hope that once you stripped away all the layers of bullshit from the tribulations of yesterday, tomorrow was really all that mattered. I believed wholeheartedly that Marcus and I were given a second chance because we damn well deserved it. Life owed us for our sacrifices, and today was the day I planned to collect what was due.

  “You forgot to do something very important while you were busy fucking me, Mr. Tough Guy.”

  “Not possible, woman.” He used his large hands to grip my ass. “I should have a cape hanging from the head of my dick after what I just gave you.” He smirked.

  “Cute,” I scoffed. “What I meant to say was, you forgot to kiss me.”

  I leaned in closer toward his chest with a smirk of my own, outwardly confident that I’d gained the upper hand, and waited for his response.

  I was so not ready.

  Marcus completely owned me with a soul-searing kiss that would definitely go down in the history books as one of the great ones. His strong stomach muscles flexed when he sat upright enough to grab the back of my neck, he and growled with pleasure before he attacked my mouth. Passion gave way to ravenous hunger as we stroked and pawed over every part of exposed skin within our reach. A crescendo of moans and groans could be heard throughout the cabin coupled with Marcus’s heady vows of what he planned on doing to me. I was lost to him. Completely. Marcus had always been vocal during our love making when we were younger, but this was something entirely different. The animalistic, bordering on brutal, way he latched on to my breasts spoke to the wanton woman in me who needed to be conquered by this man.

  The soldier.

  The protector.

  The savage.

  “I’m gonna fuck these tits while you suck me off, Maribel. Would you like that, baby?” He nuzzled his face between my breasts and breathed in deeply. “So fucking beautiful.”

  “I want you so bad, Marcus, missed you inside me,” I confessed.

  “Gonna fuck every part of you, baby. Can’t wait to feel your tight little asshole hug my dick when I slide in and out. Gonna make you forget that little fuckboy was ever inside you.” Marcus used the tip of his finger to gently circle the opening of my virgin hole, and I shuddered at the thought of it one day being his lovely cock.

  I clutched him around his neck and held his head steady against my heart. My foot hooked around his back as my swollen clit sought out the only thing that stood between us while we embraced. My wetness made it easy for me to slide up and down his hard shaft as it jutted proudly against his rock-hard abs. The slopping wetness from my overstimulated pussy saturated the patch of hair surrounding his ball sack and dripped along his inner thighs. His dirty words spurred me on to the point of madness. The more he pledged to fuck me raw, the more I wanted him to make good on his threats. Finally, I snapped.

  I released Marcus from my hold and used both hands to push against his scarred chest until he lay flat on his back, just where I wanted him. He allowed me to take over, of course; no way could I really overpower him; he was just too big and strong. I gave him what I thought was my sexiest smile just before I reached for his shaft and lined it up with my entrance. I used all my body weight to force him inside me as quickly and gracefully as possible, without wasting any more precious time. Gravity took care of the rest. Once he was seated to the hilt, I threw my head back and moaned long and hard. The feeling of fullness I ached for was finally satisfied. I let out a deep audible breath at having climbed this mountain of a man while I took a moment to drink him in.

  “I never thought I would be here with you again, Marcus, like this… together.”

  “Visions of you ridin’ my coc
k like you owned it are what kept me alive, Maribel.”

  Marcus cupped my face with his hand and looked directly in my eyes. He needed me to believe that what he was saying was true, that we were always meant to be together. I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes. I wanted to savor this moment for just a little while longer.

  “Look at me, Maribel,” he demanded with a light shake. “I will never let you go again, no matter what. You’re fucking mine.”

  He captured my mouth with his and kissed me breathless before grabbing hold of my ass while surging upward inside me. I used his pectoral muscles to propel me forward, establishing a steady rhythm until the sound of slapping flesh was the only thing that could be heard inside the walls of the cabin. We never took our eyes away from each other, a promise without words to see this thing through. There was no turning back, and we were in for the fight of our lives. Together.

  For hope.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Marcus

  WE’D CROSSED AN IMAGINARY bridge of truth toward our second chance, but the fight was far from over. We’d scratched the surface of all the bullshit that happened to us over the past eight years, but it would take that amount of time and more to wade through the rest of it. For now, we’d have to put an asterisk on the past and deal with more pressing matters. Like Darragh fucking MacCabe. After Maribel fucked my brains out, I convinced her that the safest place for her to stay was with me inside the cabin until I made the payoff. She surprised me by agreeing to my demand, but not before she insisted that I drove her home to pick up a change of clothes. I much preferred to keep her naked and filled to the brim with my cock, but she found a way to convince me otherwise. I could never resist her expressive eyes or the way she called me her “tough guy” whenever she wanted something. If this world were mine, I’d give her anything her heart could desire. She only needed to ask.