Her Alpha Marine

by Karen Anders

  His gaze slipped over her plump breasts, smoothing the roundness, and then he leaned down again and drew her into the warmth of his mouth, watching her expression of pleasure this time. Her head fell back, her body bending into his. So freaking sexy times two. The motion ground her warm center to his erection, and she thrust back as he licked and scored his teeth over the soft underside of her breast. He held her gaze as he ran his finger around her nipple, cupping her breast, and she watched him taste her.

  “Rock. Now I’m really glad you followed me.” Her hands roamed over his shoulders, his chest. She wrapped her hand around him, slid her fingers over the moist tip and laughed softly when he groaned, drew in air through clenched teeth.

  “Geezus,” he said and clasped her hands above her head. “Where are those handcuffs when you need them?”

  Her smile was bone-melting, and he swept his palm from her delicate throat to her sleek hip, molding her flesh, his gaze lingering over her, naked and shameless for him. Her eyes held the awareness of her power, her shape slim and supple, wrapping him in her scent and sensation. Rock felt privileged, the moments of denying himself over, kaput, the message driven home as she touched his face, slid her thumb over his lips. It was a simple thing, and he wanted more of it, to connect deeply with her and seal this connection tighter. Screw the thought that he could lose her.

  His hand rested on her belly, then slid softly between her thighs. He nudged them apart, loving her quick breaths, yet he taunted, slowly drawing a line up her center, circling the tiny bead of her core.

  She thrust her hips enough to put him inside her a bit, and he grunted and cursed, then nudged her thighs wider and slid between. He held himself poised, and a million thoughts ran through his mind, nothing sticking long enough to make sense. He felt privileged and freed, his need beyond passion, beyond control.

  She covered his mouth, wickedly plundering him until he was wrung out with the taste and feel of her. His breath shuddered, almost gasping when he leaned back and she straddled his broad thighs; her mouth rolled over his, down his throat, and her tongue snaked to lick his nipple. His grip on her hips tightened as she suckled, and he let his head drop back and savored it till he needed that mouth on his again. He took it, cradling her face and savaging her soft lips till she was gasping and wild on him.

  “Russell,” she pleaded.

  He gripped her hips, his body nail-hard and sliding into her deeply. Her delicate flesh clasped him in a tight fist, her willowy body rocking back and forth like a cord pulling him quickly to climax.

  “Oh, my. Oh, man...oh, man.”

  Her muscles locked and clawed, and yet she smiled, met him and thrust harder. Her whispers were as soft and wispy as the mist as she made love to him, watching as he disappeared inside her with tormenting abandon.

  She quickened, thrusting longer and harder, untamed. her kiss more erotic. Her body spoke to him, urging him with her. He reached between them and circled her.

  “Oh, Rock,” she said softly, drawing it out. He couldn’t breathe, his body beyond his control and in her. His blood hummed, rushing along his erection, and he wanted more, only more of her slick heat taking him inside her, her body tightening with each moment closer to the peak. He pushed long and slow, then quickened, and Rock fought the tension, wanting this to go on, but his body wasn’t cooperating.

  Her muscles tensed, contracted, her tender grip trapping his hard-on, and he pumped, his control slipping. Scarred and seasoned melted with feminine, wet and hot. Primal. Captive sensations ripped free, roaring through his blood and blinding him.

  Her hips rose greedily, quicksilver and sleek, pulling him along with her, and he plunged into her with a frantic, erotic pulse. He met her gaze, her smoky eyes intense as her body took him again and again.

  Sitting back on his calves, he crushed her to him as if to bring her into his very core. He pushed on her lower spine and thrust upward, deeply, elongating, and the untamed monster inside him roared free. His groan rose in tempo, melting with her gasps, and they shivered through the shuddering culmination.

  He held her tightly, his kiss strong and softening as the pleasure ebbed to a humming in his blood. He slid his hand up her spine to the base of her skull, his fingers sinking into her hair, and she tipped her head back. She met his gaze, and Rock swiped his hand over her hair and kissed her softly.

  He’d always known they would be good together.

  In the tropical rainforest of Central America, in the most dangerous place on earth, she embedded herself deeper into his soul.

  Deeper than he could have ever imagined.

  *

  Rock awoke just before the gray half-light of dawn, feeling damn good in spite of the tender temple and a sore arm. But the feeling-good part had mostly to do with the beautiful woman he had tucked close to him, his arm secure around her waist, her breath warm against his neck, and he let his eyes drift shut, loving the feeling of waking up with her in his arms.

  He was loving this hammock, gravity pulling them both automatically to the center and right on top of each other. Yesterday was still somewhat of a blur, as was that near-drowning experience he could have done without.

  He’d been cognizant enough to know that he was in no shape to hold his breath for thirty seconds, let alone the two minutes it had taken for them to pass through that underwater cave. But she wouldn’t have left him, and he couldn’t expose her to any more danger. If those drug runners had found them, there would have been no questions or quarter. Just plain murder.

  He was a marine. It was either do or die.

  And he would die before he let some scum of the earth harm Neve or a young girl with the courage of a lion.

  The bro code had been smashed to smithereens, and just like his brother, Dexter, he’d succumbed to his best friend’s little sister. In Dex’s case, Piper Jones had been Tyler Keighley’s older sister, but age didn’t matter here.

  He was heading for a fall either way. He loved her, had for a long time, and she wasn’t going to stay put. Her plan had been and would remain to be a rescue swimmer in the coast guard, which meant pulling up stakes every two to four years and going somewhere new.

  When he’d been young, he wasn’t like Dex, who could practically breathe and make friends, settle into a new life like he’d always been there. Belonged wherever their father took them, be it somewhere in the United States or overseas.

  But Rock hadn’t been like that; even in the marines, he’d been a loner until he’d bonded with a screwed up, kick-ass partner named Tristan Michaels. Other than his family, Rock didn’t let many people in, and that mostly had to do with protecting himself against getting attached to someone and then having to move again. It was self-preservation.

  With Neve, he was fresh out of self-protective instincts.

  The bottom line was he didn’t want to move every two to four years, especially once he had kids. He’d built a business in San Diego, and it was true he was branching out, but he chose that area because he loved it. He couldn’t have both Neve and his way of life; that was a fact.

  But he’d ride this temporary fix until the very bitter end. Neve was in his blood, and that was where she would always stay. He hated to think he was ruined for any other woman, but he was really quite immovable on this fact. Once she was out of his life, he would deal. Right now, in the present, they still had a threat to defuse. Personal complications aside, they also had someone tailing them. From the performance of their sniper in that camp, the way he’d kept Neve safe, Rock was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. She had to be aware of it now. She stirred against him, and he already had a bad case of morning wood.

  A breeze could blow across him and that would set him off, so having all this...woman against him put him on a hair trigger.

  He looked down at her, the buzz from his hard-on jacking him a little higher when she cuddled against him, her generous breasts rolling, then flattening against his chest, her face snuggling his neck. Geezus, he could
get used to this every morning for the rest of his life. He shifted his arm when she said, “Ow.” Realizing he was on her hair, he gathered the thick, mass into one heavy cord. Smoothing it down her skin, the long strands clinging to his hands, he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. Her hair was something else. In a braid, it was as thick as his wrist and stick-straight, so black it looked blue under the lights. But it felt like silk, and it glimmered like satin. When he’d first known her, it had reached past her waist, but now it fell midway down her back.

  “I would kill someone for a cup of coffee right now,” she murmured, then kissed his neck, trailing her lips up his throat to the curve of his jaw.

  Rock grinned, slowly running his hand over the thick, rumpled mess. Shifting his head, he looked at her, lifting a stray strand that clung to her cheek. Damn, she was beautiful, her Inuit coloring and unique almond eyes adding to her magnetism that made men look. But part of that, he suspected, was the way she carried herself, the way she moved. She was tall, five feet eight inches worth of sleek muscles and legs that went on for days. But it was how she moved, with the confident, long-legged stride and the grace and power of an athlete. He could just while away the time watching her.

  “You smell good,” she whispered. “Almost as good as coffee.”

  His grin widened, getting a charge out of her groggy ramblings. “I wish I could nip down to Starbucks for you, babe, but the closest one is...oh...about one hundred fifty miles from here.”

  Her eyes still closed, she smiled against him. “You’re a marine. That’s a leisurely jog for you.”

  He chuckled and he squeezed her. “Ooh-rah, I’ll be back in two shakes.” He shifted as if to rise.

  She wrapped her arms around him and when she felt his erection, she murmured, “On second thought, I think I prefer this testosterone-flavored wake-up call to a dose of caffeine.”

  Still smiling, he ran his hand down the full length of her hair. “Is that so? I’m so damned flattered.”

  “You should be.” Her voice was full of that sassy dryness he loved. “This will be much more physical.”

  “Oh, really?” he said, just as dry. “Jogging a mere one hundred fifty miles isn’t physical?”

  She laughed. “It’s a small price to pay, a trifle really. Coffee is no laughing matter.”

  “I’m pretty damned amused right now.”

  “Be careful or I’ll shove you on the floor.”

  He wasn’t too worried. “I’m injured, and you just saved my life, like, twice yesterday, so that’s somewhat of an empty threat.” He figured it wasn’t prudent to challenge her, but he couldn’t help it. If she did decide to dump him onto the floor, he would have one hell of a fight on his hands—and he could think of better things to do. Another smile softened his expression. He didn’t know how many times they had made love last night, but it didn’t matter. It would never be enough. Shifting slightly, he drew her leg completely over his, then began softly stroking her breast.

  “Sex maniac,” she murmured.

  His amusement intensified, and he trailed his fingers down the side of her breast. “Insatiable.”

  “If you start something here, Marine, you better be ready to finish it. I like things done all the way.” She raised herself up on one elbow and shook her hair back, then looked at him, her eyes all smoky from sleep.

  “First in, babe. Last out.”

  “I like the sound of that.” She trailed her hand over his face, across his stubble several times. Then her fingers took a journey down his throat and over the rounded muscle of his bicep. She lifted his arm and peered closer at the tattoo there. “Devil Dog?”

  “Yeah...marine moniker.” He sent his hand over her hair. “Teufelshunde. Hellhound...devil dog. Germans weren’t too fond of marines.”

  “I bet the enemy is never fond of the marines,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

  “We don’t go in to make friends. But there’s some doubt the Germans ever called the marines that now-legendary name.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. Those WWI marines fought like devil dogs. Unleashing hell on the enemy is just a perk.”

  “I do like the chocolate and cream cakes myself.” She rubbed her fingers over his collarbone, then traced the swell of his pectoral muscles, enflaming him.

  “Are you saying I’m a cream puff?”

  “Sometimes,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper as she flattened her palm, rubbing over his chest, his nipple. “Completely yummy. And with fewer calories.”

  He closed his eyes, lost in the soft meandering of her hand and fingers as she bumped over each ridge of his tight abs. When she got closer to his groin, his breath caught and he lifted his lashes. Her admiring eyes flicked up to his, and she leaned close to him, brushing her lips over his mouth. “In fact, I’m sure I’m going to burn quite a few with you.”

  “I need a workout or two.”

  “All this—” she indicated his upper body “—says differently. I’ve always wanted to tell you how sexy I find all this delicious muscle.” She ran her hands over both his biceps, careful of his bandage. “Especially these—”

  “Guns,” he said, grinning like a sappy fool. “You’ve got me locked and loaded, babe.”

  She returned one of her own. “Yes, deadly weapons, my friend.” She used her nails, sending him into overload.

  “I’m not your friend,” he growled as she molded her hand over his arousal.

  She braced her hands on his shoulders. “And here I thought we were getting along so well.” There was nothing better than tits and ass in the morning, but it was ten times better because this gorgeous woman was Neve.

  He gave her a lazy grin, slowly running his hand up the back of her thigh, liking the way her black, shiny hair fell around her shoulders, liking the way her eyes got all soft and inviting. “From my excellent and sexy-as-damn-hell vantage point, I’d say that’s a foregone conclusion, babe.”

  “Russell,” she said softly.

  Experiencing a thickness in his chest, Rock lifted a swath of her hair. Maybe if he wasn’t so freaking lost in her he could enjoy this as lighthearted banter and let her go. But she made him laugh, and she had his back. Disconnecting from all the longing, he caressed the swell of her breast with the backs of his fingers. Trying to stay away from all those easily pulled triggers, he kept it light. “Why don’t you come up here and say that again?”

  Her eyes got dark, the pulse point in her neck beating, and she gave him a smile that he felt all the way to his toes. With the sensuousness of a cat, she slithered on top of him, her hair spilling around them as she straddled his hips, then slowly—so slowly—took him into her, her gaze riveted on his. Rock clenched his jaw, the pleasure so intense it made his whole body respond. Once he was fully inside her, she settled her weight on him, then softly, so softly, she cupped his face in her hands and leaned over and kissed him, her mouth moist and pliant and unbelievably gentle.

  He made soft, slow love to her, both of them reaching the peak again, then taking a while to get their bearings.

  When she finally eased away, he slid his hand up to the back of her head and pulled her against him, releasing a very shaky sigh.

  “How was my response to your challenge?” she whispered unevenly.

  “Looks like you put me in my place. You were first in and last out.”

  Christ, she filled up the holes inside him, holding her like this, feeling as if they had become part of one another. And she understood how much he needed that. There was a time, after his grannie had passed. He’d gotten the news while on leave with Tristan. It was sudden and devastating. He’d never gotten a chance to say goodbye. Neve had found him, sitting outside on their porch, losing it. She stayed with him all night, and he’d never forgotten it. And he never would. He could not have felt closer to another human being than he’d felt with her that night. Or now.

  Pulling her hair out of the way, he kissed the base of her neck, then cradled her tightly against him, lettin
g the sensations wash through his whole body. It didn’t get better than this. It couldn’t. Closing his eyes against the sudden thickness in his throat, he turned his face against her neck and tightened his arms around her. He would take all of this he could get.

  He knew when she’d drifted back to sleep. A small smile surfaced as he closed his eyes, listening to the sounds from outside—the distinctive “jungle” noise that was always present—howler monkeys, birds, the rustling of bushes and the wind in the trees. He drew in the soul-deep calm she brought him. He filtered everything through his warrior senses.

  The sky had started to lighten, and he could hear the villagers starting to stir, when she stirred and straightened one leg alongside his. “You can start moving anytime, Kaczewski,” she murmured against his neck, her voice thick with sleep.

  Rock tipped his head back and laughed, then hugged her hard. “I didn’t hear reveille.”

  She threw her head back this time and laughed. Sliding her hand up his neck, she leaned down and whispered in his ear and contracted her leg around him. “Can’t you get it up... I mean, get up in the morning?”

  He made a soft half laugh, half moan. “Oh, I can get it up anytime, babe.”

  Grasping her straightened leg, he pulled her knee up, then put considerable effort into a long, hot, wet kiss.

  “You are a very wicked man.”

  “Ooh-rah,” he murmured against her mouth, then moved, slow and deliberate. And suddenly it didn’t matter that their time was limited.

  *

  The rays of the sun were cresting the horizon when reality checked in, along with Opal. She knocked at the panel of their door. He had asked her to come back. They still had a trek ahead of them, but it was time to do some recon. They weren’t far from Boca de Cupé, and Neve’s contact had said that Ammon Set was in this area somewhere. They could use the village as their base.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, he tucked Neve’s hair back and nestled her closer, his expression sobering. Sometimes he wondered why he had given in. It only made loving her harder. He sometimes wondered what would have happened if she’d never gotten stationed in San Diego. If, by the luck of the draw, she’d been shipped off to some other station. Maybe he would be married by now, both having gone on with their lives. He looked at her, experiencing a twist around his heart. And again, maybe not.