He cupped her face with both hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. The feeling of his rough fingers against her soft cheeks made the need she felt for him intensify. She wanted him. All of him. All the time. Yet she would have to be satisfied with only this moment. He would have to leave in a few days, taking her world and her heart with him.
But they had tonight.
She could take this one chance to make him hers and to become his.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t—”
“I get it. Let’s leave it at that,” he interrupted. He kept running his thumbs over her cheeks. “You did what you had to do.”
The way he said the words made her wonder if there was some hidden meaning, like he was going to do what he thought he had to do. But she had no idea what exactly that would entail.
She opened her mouth to ask him what his plans were, but she changed her mind and clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t want to know. It would only ruin this moment. There would be plenty of moments to talk after she felt his touch, after she felt his kiss on her lips.
“I... Do you want...” she stammered. She was so bad at making the first move. Except for their brief time in the truck, it had been forever since she had seduced a man. No matter what anyone said, it wasn’t like riding a bike. Just because she had done it a long time ago didn’t mean that it would ever come naturally.
She looped her arms around Waylon’s waist and laid her head on his chest. His heartbeat was hard and fast under her ear. It was a comfort, as in its rapid cadence she could almost confuse its sound with her own heartbeat.
“Did you call Wyatt to check on Winnie?” he asked, almost as though he wanted to talk about anything other than what their bodies were saying to one another.
She held her breath for a moment, wishing the question could disappear into the thin air between them, but his body tensed with each passing second. Reality pressed in on her, and she finally forced herself to move, looking up at Waylon as she stepped back. Instead of letting her go, as she had expected him to do, he reached down and took hold of her waist.
“How is Winnie?” He frowned. “Is she the reason you’re crying? You don’t have to be worried about her. She’s safe. She’ll always be safe.”
He really was a good man.
Maybe he would be a good father, too.
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly looked away in an effort to keep him from seeing her cry again. “I called your brother. Winnie is doing just fine. Gwen put her to bed a couple of hours ago. Winnie was a little upset tonight. Apparently, Gwen forgot her favorite doll.”
“Do I need to run it over there so she can sleep?”
Christina’s knees weakened. He was so sweet and caring.
She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “No. Winnie eventually went to bed. She’ll be okay, but with everything that’s been going on in her life, it’s not a huge surprise that she has been regressing lately.”
“Regressing?” He frowned.
She nodded. “She’s been potty trained for some time, but lately she’s been wetting the bed.”
His eyes widened. “She’s still in diapers?”
Some of the swoon factor receded. Maybe he wasn’t the perfect man after all.
“Are you afraid of having a child in diapers?”
He laughed. “No. It’s been a while, but I changed more than my fair share of diapers when my parents were working more with the foster care system. It’s just that I guess I really hadn’t thought about all Winnie must be going through.” He nodded. “That kid is a real trouper.”
She thought about not speaking her mind, but she’d never really been the kind to sit quietly and let a man take the reins—she was far too strong for that kind of thing. “And putting her through much more...it will only make Winnie’s separation from her mother that much harder for her.”
He nodded and gave her hips a light squeeze before letting her go. “I know.”
No. She should have stayed quiet. The last thing she wanted to lose right now was the healing power of his touch.
“But you need to do what you think is right. She’s your daughter.” She reached down and took his hands in hers and interlaced their fingers. “Do you know what you want to do?”
“Honestly...” He paused and drew their intertwined hands up to his mouth and he kissed her fingers. “I have no idea. The only thing I know for sure is that, right now, all I want is you.”
He led her down the hallway, and to his old bedroom. His parents hadn’t changed it since he’d last lived at home as a kid. There were still posters of early 2000s football player Brett Favre, and a model of the Millennium Falcon hanging from his ceiling. She smiled at his bit of kitschy coolness. It wasn’t every day that a man like him would willingly take a woman into a room filled with the memories of his past.
She’d walked by his room a thousand times, but she’d never really paid it any mind and, as he clicked the door shut, for the first time she noticed the Star Wars sheets on his bed—complete with Darth Vader on his pillowcase.
“When did you stay here last?” she asked, trying not to think about the lurid, silent promises their bodies were making to one another.
He smiled, and there was a faint redness in his cheeks as though he understood what the place must look like to her. “I have the same exact setup on base. Like it?” he joked. “Though, since I’m older, my action figures have only gotten better.” He ran his hands over her curves with a devilish grin.
She giggled. “I had no idea you were this big of a nerd,” she teased, relishing the way he gently squeezed her hips.
“Don’t get me started on Star Wars,” he said, but his tone made it clear it was the last thing on his mind.
“Is there something else you’d rather be doing?” As the words fell from her lips, a feeling of delightful naughtiness whispered through her and made heat rise in her cheeks.
He chuckled, the sound throaty and raw and just as wicked as her words. She loved the erotic sound of his laugh. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against him. So tight she could feel his body’s answer to her question.
She reached up to his short, dark hair. It looked sharp but was soft as she ran her fingers through it. It was just like the man it belonged to—high and tight on the outside, but once she really got to know him, he was just a softie.
She had a feeling he let very few people see the man he really was. The thought made her feel even more special and honored to be in his arms and surrounded by his former life.
He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“I don’t know how we got here. Or why. But I’m so glad we did,” he whispered, his hot breath brushing against her lips as he spoke.
The sensation made her shudder.
He closed the gap between them, not waiting for her to answer, and took her lips with his. She ran her tongue over his lips, teasing him with her touch. His lips were strong and giving—So much could be assumed about a man just through his kiss, and from his all she could feel was a passionate future together.
He moved to the bed, but as he walked, his hands slid down to her curves. He cupped his hands over her ass and moaned. She swallowed the sound, relishing its delicious complexity. She rolled her hips slightly, forcing him to hold tighter to her as she pressed against him in all the right ways.
He leaned back slightly to look at her, his eyes heavy with the high of lust and the hunger for more. “What are you trying to do to me?”
“What do you think?” she asked with a playful quirk of the brow.
“Are you sure you want to—”
She pressed her lips against his, the action hard, forcing him to silence. He chuckled, his lips still pressed against hers, and she matched the soun
d.
He laid her back, their bodies barely parting as he set her down on the bed and moved atop her. Moving down, he laced his kiss over her neck, driving her crazy with desire. When she arched her back, he ran his hands down her front, slowly unbuttoning her shirt as he kissed down her neck and to her collarbone. He pushed back her collar, the dry air brushing against her skin a sharp contrast to the damp trail of his kiss.
She popped open the pearl buttons on his shirt in one swift motion. “Slow,” he said with his sexy half grin, the words barely more than a moan. “I want to have you all night long.”
Her thighs clenched at the thought. She wasn’t sure exactly what her body could handle, but she was willing to test it out. Her mouth moved slowly as she searched for words. She could find only one that her tongue would agree to make. “Please.”
She loved the sound of his deep chuckle and the way it reverberated through her, especially through those places where she most yearned for his touch.
He undid the last of her buttons and slipped her shirt off her shoulders. “One thing I’ve always been trained to do is take orders.”
The heat at her core intensified as she realized he wanted her to instruct him on how to touch her. It was definitely outside her comfort zone, but it was what made his request even more desirable. She loved that he pressed her to go further, to trust him and to find pleasure in ways she never had before.
Yet she found it hard to speak her desires as he looked up at her while kissing the soft skin of her belly.
He must have sensed her tentativeness. “Do you like it when I kiss you here?” He pointed at a little freckle on her hip, just above the waist of her jeans. Leaning down, he gently sucked her skin and released it with a kiss.
She smiled. “Yes.”
He ran his rough fingers over her lower belly, making the blood rush to the place he had touched. “Do you want me to move lower?”
She nodded, the action slow and deliberate.
He reached down and unbuttoned her pants. His lips moved over her stomach, and he traced the top of her panty line with his kiss. She squirmed under his touch, aching for more but enjoying each individual kiss as though any one of them could be the last.
If she had a choice, she would live in this place—relishing his kisses and falling deeper and deeper into the euphoria of his touch. She’d never felt anything or anyone better.
He slipped her pants down her legs, caressing each place where her jeans scraped against her flesh. It was a strange sensation, the mix of harsh cotton and the tenderness of his touch. If he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t get his turn.
He dropped her pants to the floor, and she sat up, taking him by the flap over his zipper and pulling him closer. His eyes were wide with anticipation and excitement as she slid open his zipper, tooth by tooth. She lavished in the sound of his breath hitching in his throat as she grazed her hand over his responding body. He was hot with want. So hot that her hand was drawn to the heat like a moth to a flame, and just like the moth she couldn’t deny there was a certain amount of danger in the choice she was about to make. Yet close on danger’s heels was thrill.
But thrill didn’t fully encompass the feeling she had as she reached inside his open zipper and ran her hand over his length. He groaned as she lowered his pants with her free hand. They fell to the floor with a thump, and he didn’t even bother stepping out of them. Instead, he seemed fully consumed in what she was giving him.
She smiled up at him, and their eyes met. It was so sexy when men wore boxers. Especially the kind she could slip her hand into.
“Christina.” He whispered her name and he arched his back slightly, almost in warning of what could happen if she continued.
She considered taking him into her mouth and bringing him to the point of release, yet she wanted more. This was her time to experience all of him, every perfect inch of him.
Slipping her hand out of his boxers, she tugged them down his hips, exposing the dark hair that made a line from his belly and filled in around his ample assets. A giggle escaped her lips as he pulled off his shirt and dropped it to the floor.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
There was absolutely nothing funny about what was happening between them; rather, the giggle had been an ill-timed attempt to get rid of the nerves that pulsed through her. She wasn’t twenty anymore. There were lumps and curves where her skin had once been smooth and inviting, and her breasts were definitely far from the perky peaks they once were.
He pulled back from her touch and stared down at her, almost as though he could sense what she was thinking.
“You know what I like best about you?”
She raised an eyebrow, almost in warning that he’d better get the answer right, as she lay back in bed and rested on her elbows—her breasts taking center stage and looking slightly perkier than they had moments before. In fact, they were almost back to their former glory if they were viewed in just the right light.
“What?”
“I love how confident you are. You’re a solid ten anyway, but dang, when you move...”
She smiled. Clearly, he didn’t live in her head and hear her thoughts, or he would have known what a self-deprecating and insecure mess she could be. Maybe she was better at faking her confidence than she thought. “What do I move like?” she asked, prompting him to continue his flattery.
“You move like no one else. I guess the best way I can explain it is that when I watch you walk, it’s like you are walking only for me.” He moved between her legs, pressed her down to the bed and pulled her nipple into his mouth, claiming it.
“Don’t you think that’s a little selfish?” she asked, trying to ignore the intense rush of feelings that moved through her as her nipple popped out of his mouth.
“Selfish?” He gave her a wicked glance. “I promise you, I’m the least selfish man you will ever know. In fact...” He lowered his hand between her legs and found her, making her gasp. “I think it’s better if I just show you how giving I can be.”
His fingers moved into her, filling her with his gentle but confident touch. “Do you like that?”
“Yes,” she moaned, “but I want you...all of you...”
He kissed his way up to her lips as his body moved over hers. He slipped inside her. He felt even better than she had dreamed he would. In fact, he fit so well, it made her wonder if their bodies had been made for one another.
As he moved within her, she felt the edge moving closer and closer. From the rhythm of his breath and the way his body was tensing, he was close, too. Before she could say anything, her body defied her and she gave herself completely.
Chapter Fourteen
Sometime in the night, snow had fallen, blanketing the ground and piling up on his window ledge.
Christina’s head was on his chest and, as if she could sense him thinking about the chill that awaited them, she snuggled closer.
He’d had to make some hard choices in his life, divorce being right at the top of the list, but nothing was going to be harder than having to decide what he was going to do with this relationship. He had no idea what he was going to do—he’d fallen harder and deeper than he had intended.
Her hair was loose and splayed on his chest. He picked up a strand and wrapped it around his finger. Even her hair was soft, strands of blond silk that were just as strong as the woman they belonged to. Everything about her, even down to her pit bull–like stare when she had first met him, was perfect.
He gently ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to wake her up, but he just needed to touch her. They had only a few days until he had to get back on a jet and fly all the way across the country.
It struck him how everything had moved so fast. It was crazy to think they had been strangers only a matter of days before
, and now he was thinking about changing his life for the woman in his arms. Even though it had been quick, he wasn’t afraid—and that thought was what scared him the most.
He wasn’t new to the world of falling in love. He should have been more controlled, more metered in his approach, but there was just something about Christina that made him throw caution to the wayside. Hopefully he wouldn’t come to regret his reckless behavior—he wasn’t sure that he could handle another Bell woman breaking his heart. He could only spend so many years in the military.
Waylon’s body tightened when he heard the thump of footfalls in the hallway. After a brief knock on the door, the doorknob twisted. He moved quickly to cover their entangled bodies with a blanket, and if he’d been a little younger, he would have pulled it all the way over his head, but there was no hiding the facts.
Wyatt barged in, and though it was early, he must have already been at work, as he was decked out in his uniform. “Get your a—” Wyatt stopped midword as he stared at them. “Dude.” His mouth opened and closed for a minute, then he turned away and stepped back into the hall, closing the door behind him.
Great. Waylon sighed. Now his morning would be filled with knowing glances and his brother’s hounding.
There was a light tap on the door, as though Wyatt was going for strike two.
“What?” Waylon grumbled.
“Um,” Wyatt started. “We need to talk. I got some news. Take your time.”
Waylon snorted. Like he needed his brother’s permission or direction to do anything, especially when it came to women. Admittedly, though, he couldn’t deny the fact there were times, just like this one, when he wasn’t exactly sure what his next move should be. Talking to his brother about his situation sounded just about as fun as going to the dentist. He and Wyatt could talk about a lot, but the topic of Christina somehow seemed off-limits. On the other hand, Wyatt knew her better than Waylon did.
He moved from the bed, pulling himself out from Christina’s hold ever so slowly to keep from waking her. It was strange how cold the room felt now that he wasn’t wrapped in her arms. He’d spent hundreds of training hours covered in mud and lying in stagnant swamp water, and in those moments he had thought he was cold, but it was nothing in comparison to the chill he felt without her against him.
Mr. Serious Page 12