I Need a Hero

by Gary, Codi

  “It’s beautiful here,” she said.

  “Yeah, I love it. Maybe someday I’ll retire here,” Oliver said.

  “Did you ask for the Sacramento post to be close to them?” she asked.

  “I wanted it, but you know as well as I do that they move you where they want you, without your permission.”

  His comment sent cold water through her veins, reminding her that he could be ripped from her anytime.

  “Where’d you go just now?” he asked.

  “I was just thinking that everything I thought I wanted went out the window the minute you got into my car the day we met,” she said honestly.

  His lips found the side of her neck. “I, for one, am happy that you didn’t kill me. Your driving is seriously terrifying, dulzura.”

  “You know, following up an insult with an endearment does not make it okay,” she said.

  “Come on, admit it.” He trailed his lips softly across her neck, and tingles raced down her spine. “It’s hot when I drop a little español on you.”

  “Please, like I’m one of those girls who goes weak in the knees over accents and foreign languages.”

  Oliver placed his mouth at the shell of her ear and spoke softly, “Tú me vuelves loco.”

  You drive me crazy. Eve clenched her thighs together, trying to ignore the throb between them. “I feel nothing.”

  “Te quiero besar.”

  I want to kiss you.

  “Go ahead. Your sultry words and deep voice have no effect on me.”

  Oliver’s hands trailed down over her stomach, stopping to rest on her thighs. His fingers drew slow, languid circles over her jeans, burning through the fabric and onto her skin. “Quiero hacerte el amor.”

  I want to make love to you.

  “Oh, God.” Eve turned in his arms and reached her hand behind Oliver’s neck. Before he could resist, she yanked his mouth down to hers and kissed him with every pent-up, almost, could-have-been moment they’d shared but never finished.

  It didn’t surprise her that Oliver didn’t leave her in control long but rolled with her until she was under him, his big body pressing her into the cold sand. His lips and tongue moved with hers, and she couldn’t get close enough to him. Her hands snaked under the back of his shirt, and his warm skin against her palm was smooth, tight, and ripping with muscles.

  Eve wasn’t the most experienced woman, having only been with three men, but with Oliver she didn’t feel nervous or awkward, like she had to play a part. She was hungry, raw, and craving him—every part of him.

  “God, Eve, I want you so bad.” His tone was rough with desire, his reaction to merely her kiss causing her passion to boil over.

  “I want you, too,” she said.

  “Just not here,” he said.

  His words hit her hard, and she pulled back from his kiss. “What?”

  He adjusted her glasses, which had been knocked a little sideways during their kiss, and stared down at her, hard. “Baby, I don’t want our first time together to be on a cold, wet beach with sand everywhere.”

  “Then why did you bring me down here?” she asked.

  “Well, I thought I was being romantic, showing you the sky and the ocean at night—whoa!”

  Eve grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked him down until they were nose to nose. “Oliver, every single time I think this is going to happen, something comes up and we’ve put a pin in it. I’m not in the mood to put a pin in anything tonight.”

  “If I take you right now, you’re going to end up itchy and pissed off at me,” he said, pushing himself off her.

  Eve lay there, glaring up at him. “I thought the guy was supposed to be ready anytime, anywhere.” Climbing to her feet, she brushed at her clothes, brushing off the sand. “I think you wanted to get me all revved up and leave me hanging because you think I’m going to break your mom’s rules and sneak out to your cabin.”

  “Actually, I thought we could just go back there and get cleaned up—”

  “Oh, no! No, I am not rewarding you for devious behavior.” Eve gathered up her shoes and started back toward the staircase, her calves screaming against the new terrain and her angry walk.

  “Eve, you are being ridiculous. We are adults, for God’s sake, and if I want to bring you to my parents’ for the weekend, then damn it, we can share a bedroom!”

  She stopped at the edge of the stairs and bent over to put on her shoes. “I’ll tell you one thing, Oliver Martinez. The next time you want to seduce me in Spanish, you better be prepared to follow through.”

  OLIVER TOSSED AND turned in bed hours later, cursing his mother and her stupid rules. And Eve, too, for getting mad at him because he was concerned with her comfort. Here he was being a good guy, and he got punished for it.

  Women.

  “This is bullshit,” he growled aloud.

  Climbing out of bed, he left the cabin and made his way up to the main house. He tried the knob and realized his parents had locked the door. “Shit.”

  He was feeling around in the dark, trying to find the spare key when suddenly the porch light flipped on and his mother opened the door. “Mijo, what are you doing?”

  “Uh . . . ” Damn it, how did she still manage to make him feel like a kid getting caught after curfew? “I’m hungry.”

  His mother didn’t look like she believed him, but she waved him inside. “Come in.”

  Oliver followed her inside and sat at the table.

  “I know you didn’t come over here for a late-night snack, but I’ll overlook it because I wanted to talk to you, anyway.” She opened the fridge and pulled out sandwich fixings, making his sandwich while they talked.

  “You know this whole separate-rooms thing is old school, right?” he said.

  “I know that is your opinion. Do you think I want to listen to you have sex in my house?”

  “We could have stayed in the cabin for Chr—” He stopped himself when his mother glowered at him, a sharp knife in her hand. “Goodness’ sake.”

  “Maybe I wanted to get the measure of your young lady. By the way, I like her very much.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Which means I have to ask . . . Did she give you that black eye?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Then did you get it because of her?”

  “Why would you even ask that?”

  “Why don’t you answer me?”

  Oliver took the sandwich and bottled water she handed him and sighed. “It wasn’t because of her. I’d been having a crappy day, and I bumped into a fellow MP who made some inappropriate comments about Eve and I snapped.”

  “What kind of things? Have I not told you that you cannot fight every battle with your fists?”

  “Believe me, Mom, you would have knocked his ass out, too.”

  “Does Eve have a . . . reputation? Is that why he was talking about her?”

  “No, are you kidding me?” Oliver said angrily. “He was trying to get a rise out of me, that’s all.”

  “But why would he care?”

  Leave it to his mother to keep digging at him until he revealed all. “Anyone ever tell you you’re like a dog with a bone?”

  “Your father,” she said. “Now, tell me why he thought he could get to you through Eve?”

  Oliver sighed and ran his hands over his face. It would feel good to talk to someone about how to handle the general. He had made it pretty damn clear that he didn’t want Oliver anywhere near Eve, and once he found out he’d spent the weekend with her, Oliver was a dead man.

  But Oliver still thought Eve was worth whatever her dad dished out.

  “The base commander is Eve’s father, and Tate was giving me a bad time about it, so I punched him. I was on edge because her father had stuck me in this publicity position for this new outreach program, which is where I ended up meeting Eve. In spite of her father, I wanted to be with her. But Eve doesn’t date military guys, so I went to the general and asked him if I could be transferred perma
nently to the Alpha Dog Training Program. He told me no and that if I didn’t stay away from his daughter, I’d find myself transferred to a completely different base.” Oliver pushed the sandwich away and laughed bitterly. “And then we came here, and you were pretty much just one more person telling me I couldn’t be with her. And it just sucks, Mom, you know?”

  His mother was quiet, almost too quiet. He looked up and caught the shine of tears in her eyes. “Do you love her?”

  The truth came tumbling out before he even thought about it. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, we haven’t known each other that long, but it doesn’t seem to matter.”

  “Pshaw, there is no right time for love to grow. It can be instantaneous or it can take years. I knew I loved your father after our second date; I just had to wait for him to catch up.”

  “I just don’t know how to get her dad to trust me with her,” Oliver said.

  “As you’ve said yourself, you are both grown-ups. What her father thinks doesn’t matter. It’s her life.”

  “Thanks, Mom, for the pep talk. I kind of needed it.”

  “Any time, mijo,” she said. “Now, finish your sandwich and get out of my house.”

  EVE CLOSED HER door and leaned her head back against the solid wood. She’d heard Oliver’s voice in the house and almost run out to greet him, until she’d heard his mom. She had just been about to go back to bed, but then he’d said her name; unable to resist, she’d cracked the door enough to listen.

  God, her dad had gone too far. Oliver had been willing to give up being an MP for her and never said a word? Come Monday, she was going to have a long talk with her dad about making her decisions for her. It might have been done to protect her, but she’d almost missed out on being with Oliver.

  And that dick Tate? Man, was she glad Oliver had broken his face.

  Then Oliver had admitted that he thought he loved her, and the knots in her stomach had loosened. She’d been struggling with the L word herself, knowing logically that it was too soon, but emotionally it was there, at the tip of her tongue every time she was with him.

  She had fallen in love with a military man. A man like her father: honorable, kind, a little bit stubborn, and with some jackass tendencies, but still completely wonderful. Oliver and his mother were still talking when Eve got an idea.

  An exciting, wonderful, awful idea.

  Climbing onto the bed, she unlocked and opened the window over it. The drop was only about three feet, easy peasy. Quietly, she pushed out the screen, being sure not to damage it, and slowly swung out of the window before dropping to the ground. Once the screen was replaced, she walked to Oliver’s cabin and hurried inside.

  And waited. Waited. And waited some more.

  And then she heard the thud of the front door as he left the main house and the crunch of gravel under his feet. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she held her breath until the door opened.

  When Oliver saw her, he stalled for a second, just staring at her.

  “Get in here,” she whispered.

  Oliver stepped into the cabin and shut the door behind him. “What are you doing? What happened to respecting my mother’s rules?”

  Without a word, she took off her glasses and laid them on the nightstand, blinking as her vision blurred. Closing her eyes, she then slowly reached down and gathered the edge of her T-shirt. Before she lost her nerve, she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.

  Opening her eyes again, she stood. “I heard you talking to your mom . . . about Tate and my dad.” Eve took several steps across the room and brought Oliver’s hands to her lips. “And I needed to see you.”

  Oliver didn’t move for several moments, then suddenly, she was being lifted against him. “Sorry, I didn’t hear anything after your shirt came off.”

  Eve laughed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he tumbled her back on the bed. Hovering over her, Oliver trailed his fingers along her cheek and chin. “So, did you also hear me tell my mom how I feel about you?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “I meant every word.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I thought you didn’t,” she said.

  This time, when Oliver kissed her, pressing her down into the mattress, Eve wasn’t letting anything come between them, not even their clothes. As she helped Oliver discard his shirt, her gaze devoured the muscles she uncovered but had never seen. He stood up off the bed and was reaching for the waistband of his sweats when she saw the bruising on his ribs and frowned.

  “Where did you get those bruises?”

  “Tate. He likes to kick a guy while he’s down.”

  Eve wanted to clobber Tate and vowed to make him pay for hurting her man. “Are you too sore?”

  “Hell, no,” he said. As he removed the rest of his clothes, she drank in his hard body and stiff cock jutting upward.

  Sliding to the edge of the bed, she reached out and ran her fingertips gently over his ribs and abdomen, before her lips followed along. Finally taking his hips in her hands, she leaned over, pressing a sweet kiss to the end his cock. The sound of his groan was like music, and opening her mouth, she took him deeper, reveling in the salty taste of his skin.

  Before she could protest, Oliver put his hands around her arms and lifted her off of him. “I want to kiss you,” he said.

  And then his mouth covered hers and she felt his fingers deftly untying the drawstring of her pajama pants. Lightning sparked across her hips and thighs as he pushed them down, his fingers and palms running over her body until she was left in her panties and her pajamas were locked around her knees.

  Oliver gently pushed her back on the bed and pulled her pants the rest of the way off before settling between her thighs, dropping a soft, gentle kiss above her panty line.

  “Hazme el amor,” Eve said.

  Oliver looked down at her, his eyes shining in the cabin light, and she trailed her hand over the side of his face, repeating herself again, only this time, in English.

  “Make love to me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  ONCE HE PULLED off Eve’s panties, Oliver stared down at her, wanting to touch her everywhere at once.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said.

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she teased.

  Oliver reached out and squeezed her side, delighted when she laughed and squirmed away from his hand. “Must you cheapen the moment?”

  “I’m sorry, please!”

  “At least I know from now on how to best you.” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis, but instead of tickling her again, he flattened his palms against her stomach. He slid them up until they rested beneath her breasts, cupping them tenderly.

  “I feel a little like you’re studying me,” she said.

  Oliver shook his head and lowered his mouth to the tip of her breast. “I’m worshiping you. There’s a difference.”

  His closed his lips over her hardened nipple, sucking and running his tongue over it until she was arching against him, holding the back of his head in her hands.

  Oliver continued to caress, stroke, and kiss her everywhere he could reach, the soft moans and cries making it hard not to rush, to bury himself inside her and seek satisfaction.

  But he wanted more for this, for them.

  Because he’d never been in love before, and the woman he loved deserved more.

  “Oliver . . . ”

  She whispered his name as his mouth found the skin of her inner thigh and he kissed his way up to the center of her. “Yes?”

  “You’re making me crazy.”

  “That’s the point, dulzura.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to answer; instead, he put his mouth on her and thrust his tongue forward, seeking the tiny nub of her clit. Using his hands, he worked her over thoroughly, pushing and pulling, licking and nibbling until he felt her begin to tremble under his mouth. When her sweet cry of release broke over him, he kissed his way up her torso, grinning when he reached her rapidly rising
and falling chest.

  “Oh . . . my . . . God.”

  “Now, now, no need to flatter me.”

  Breathless laughter escaped her. “You are so cocky.”

  “Speaking of that, I’ll be right back.”

  EVE HAD NEVER had fun during sex. She’d never teased, joked, or flirted. Sex was . . . awkward unless you really knew the person. She tended to clear her mind, close her eyes, and never speak.

  But with Oliver, it was fun on top of amazing. Even now, she had the urge to giggle as she squinted as she watched him search through his duffle for a condom, her eyes glued to his ass.

  His perfect, round behind.

  “Damn it!”

  “No luck?” Disappointment crashed through her. She wasn’t on the pill or she’d say go for it. She trusted Oliver.

  More than that, she loved him.

  Rolling over, she checked the drawer of the nightstand and riffled through the contents.

  Nothing.

  “Bathroom?” she suggested.

  Oliver took off for it, and this time, Eve did start laughing.

  “You know, no man likes having his dick laughed at.”

  Eve scooted to check the other nightstand and called, “I wasn’t laughing at your dick, I was laughing at the way it—”

  “Ah-ha!” Oliver slid back into the room with a foil package in his hand and wiggled his eyebrows. “Come to papi!”

  “I’m not calling you”—Eve squealed as Oliver flipped off the light and, seconds later, pounced on her—“papi.”

  “So, we should stick with ‘God,’ then?” he teased. She heard the sound of the foil package opening and reached out blindly, her hand finding the muscles of his shoulder.

  “Anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” she asked.

  Oliver’s big body shifted until he was lying on top of her, his muscular frame pressing her back. Before she had a chance to adjust, he kissed her so hard and deep that lights exploded behind her eyelids.

  He broke the kiss and shifted, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance. With one more light brush of his lips across hers, he whispered, “Never.”

  Eve couldn’t laugh, not when she could feel him push forward. She lifted her hips, moaning as he sank into her. Her eyes closed involuntarily, but instead of the nothing she usually saw during sex, her mind was filled with Oliver. Oliver’s smile. His eyes. The first time he’d kissed her. Every little moment, every phone conversation, and every glance raced through her mind as he slid in and out of her in a perfect dance that cause a heavy ache inside.