Her Marine Next Door

Home > Romance > Her Marine Next Door > Page 1
Her Marine Next Door Page 1

by Burke, Aliyah




  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases… Playing with Trouble

  Scoring the Player’s Baby

  The Nanny Rules

  Wrong Bed, Right Brother

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Aliyah Burke. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  10940 S Parker Rd

  Suite 327

  Parker, CO 80134

  [email protected]

  Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Robin Haseltine

  Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Cover photography by The Reed Files

  ISBN 978-1-64937-104-1

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition December 2020

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

  xoxo

  Liz Pelletier, Publisher

  The act of writing a book is hardly a solitary one, even though you can feel like you’re all alone when you are doing it. Thank you to my editor, who saw potential in this book even before I knew what we had. Ms. Robin, you are an absolute joy to work with and I always learn something new from you. Thank you for putting up with me through it all. To Entangled, thanks for another journey. To Mikey, what can I say? I know my Recon portrayal isn’t all up to how you told me, but…I love that you took the time and are always there for me when I need it. *Hugs* To my readers, thank you for always being in my corner. To Naima, thank you so much for taking the time to read my book and provide me a quote; it means the world to me. To DH, as always, you are my rock—I love you. And, last but never least, to the men and woman who serve this country, who are my family in ways so many will never understand, thank you, for your sacrifices.

  Chapter One

  Skylar Radford jumped and emitted a squeak at the unwanted, deep, and unmistakable rumble of the Harley roaring down the cul-de-sac. That obnoxious, earsplitting sound could only mean one thing. He had returned.

  Parker Jax.

  With a frustrated sigh—a mixture of sexual want and irritation—she climbed off the stool at her workstation and went to the window to steal a hungry look. Hugging the wall, she barely moved the gathered curtains. Only enough to peek beyond the cotton boundary.

  Wouldn’t do for her to be caught staring at her hot-as-fuck neighbor. His incredible array of sexy tattoos all over, the scruff on his face, and buff build invaded her dreams. A Recon Marine body was definitely what she dreamed about.

  He was perfect. He was a blond-haired, green-blue-eyed, inked god. Or would be, if he weren’t such an enormous ass.

  He deliberately played loud music. Revved his engine—and hers from afar—at inappropriate times. And don’t get her started on the endless stream of fake-titted, ass in thin lips for plumping, bleach-haired women who arrived when he was home. The ones who got what she could only dream of.

  It was so pleasant when he was gone. No vehicles blocking her driveway for parties she wasn’t invited to. No long nights of insanely high-pitched laughter from the women there vying for his attention.

  “Can’t wait for the parties and the other loud shit to begin again,” she muttered sarcastically.

  There wasn’t any one thing specifically that irritated her about the man; he just rubbed her the wrong way. Oil and water. Sweet and sour. Hard and soft. Fast and slow. Hot and cold.

  They were such opposites she couldn’t recall a time they’d had a nice conversation. Their time typically revolved around her knocking on the door, demanding someone move a vehicle so she could leave her driveway, or her tossing shit back over the fence into his yard, or receiving a grunt and a chest scratch when she tried to be a good neighbor.

  She didn’t call the cops or have vehicles towed when they were in her driveway, but still, she was made out to be the bad one.

  Facts that rubbed her raw.

  Most of the neighbors were elderly, which led to the quiet she coveted. She had her own reasons, her own demons, to run from, and what she didn’t need was the sexy-ass distraction.

  Skylar sighed and moved to back up. He turned his head toward her, removed his helmet, and winked as he revved the motor once more before vanishing into the garage.

  Of course he’d seen her.

  What bothered her far more than having been caught sneaking a peek was that her body responded to his simple and utterly meaningless gesture.

  With a litany of muttered curses flowing from her mouth, she went back to the intricate commissioned piece she had to finish. She picked up the chisel to carve the door lying before her on two sawhorses.

  Soon enough, she was lost in her own world. A place where anything was possible, and the man next door didn’t invade. Her music was on, providing background ambiance.

  Bam. Bam. Bam.

  Jumping at the intrusive noise, she swore at the stab in her palm from the sharp edge of the blade.

  “Damn, damn, damn. Dammit!”

  After jerking her stinging hand from the work of art, she ignored the blood running along her skin and wiped the dark red liquid off the door. Then she focused on her injury.

  Bam. Bam. Bam.

  She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. Hand wrapped in a dingy yet clean light blue towel, she stomped from the workshop garage through the house to the front door.

  “Yes?” she demanded, yanking it open.

  It was a struggle, but she forced niceness into her tone. It might actually be a neighbor she liked.

  It wasn’t.

  Lusted after, sure. Dreamed about, definitely. Liked? Nope.

  “You,” she growled.

  Beyond him, she saw a line of cars, some in her driveway, and knew the night would be loud.

  “Took you long enough, Skylar.” His deep rumble bypassed her ears to hit directly on her lady parts that had been ignored too long and tease them.

  Fuck, she was surprised he remembered her name. Usually all she got were glares and grunts.

  Her anger simmered, but she tried—so hard—to remain calm. Faster heartbeat meant more blood pumping and more blood loss. Her hand had begun to feel numb, though the throb had yet to completely vanish.

  “What could you possibly want?”

  Those incredible green-blue eyes moved over her figure, pushing her pain to the back of her mind and setting up an entirely different type of throb. Entirely different.


  “That’s a loaded question for a marine just off his latest deployment. Right now, however, I’m merely after a blender.”

  Irritation at being asked to supply items to his party, but not securing an actual invite, spiked through her. After all, she supplied the parking and some of the items needed, and apparently allowed her backyard to be the trash can.

  She snorted and did her best to ignore the dark ink spiraling from beneath the sleeve of his shirt twining around his muscular arm in a sensual and sexy way.

  “I’ve seen the women you parade in and out of there. I’m nothing like them, so not a loaded question for me to ask, regardless of any recently finished deployment.” She locked her knees as her world shifted from the pain. Shit, not good. She needed to get her butt to the hospital. “Blender’s on the counter. Lock up when you’re done.”

  She hated letting him in her private space, but she had to get to a hospital and have herself checked out.

  He narrowed his gaze, yet stepped inside. She moved past his overwhelming presence, trying to keep the bulky towel around her hand hidden. Outside, she forced her legs to work as she headed for her truck.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His intoxicating baritone carried to her all too well, not to mention to those women at his place who turned in their direction.

  While she prayed he was hollering to someone at his place, she opened the door to her truck. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath and hoped she wouldn’t fall as she tried to climb up.

  “You better fucking be sliding all the way over. I saw all the blood and the fucking bulky towel you tried to hide from me. You’re injured and not driving.”

  She bit back a whimper. “Leave me alone.”

  “Give me your fucking keys and slide over.” Behind her was his warmth, and she didn’t even know when he’d gotten so close. That rumble left his mouth and zeroed in on her clit, giving her another reason to be light-headed.

  He apparently decided she wasn’t moving fast enough and gripped her around the waist, depositing her in the passenger seat like she weighed no more than a feather. Before she could wrap her head around that, his powerful forearm brushed her breasts when he plucked the keys from her hand.

  They were peeling out of the drive moments later. Parker cussed about the car he nearly took out to leave her driveway.

  Now he knew how she felt.

  He buckled his belt as they streaked off down the road, leaving the cul-de-sac and heading for the main road.

  The truck’s windows were up and she could smell his fresh and clean masculine scent. The air conditioner didn’t help dispel the scent of him.

  He wove around traffic like it stood still, yet she never once thought there was danger of a wreck. He handled her truck with skill.

  Wonder what else he handles with such skill?

  Damn her brain for even thinking along those lines.

  The moment he squealed into the ER and slammed to a halt, he pointed at her. “Don’t move.”

  She reached for the handle.

  “Do. Not. Move.” The command was so graveled and deep it sounded like he’d just gargled rocks. He was at her side and lifted her into his arms, then carried her into the waiting room.

  She couldn’t find any energy to argue. This was what happened when there was a dry spell, and she was so hard up for man’s touch she got turned on by a guy carrying her into a hospital.

  “I need a doctor!”

  The room spun and a roaring in her ears swelled. She blinked away her sluggishness as he lowered her into a wheelchair.

  “This is not looking good at all,” the nurse said with a kind smile, as she stepped behind her. “We’ll have your girlfriend fixed up in no time.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Good.” His baritone voice wove around her, and she swore he stroked her curls. “Can I come with? I’d rather not leave her alone.”

  “How romantic,” the nurse whispered in her ear.

  Right. He probably wanted to yell at her for holding him back from his latest conquest.

  Skylar somehow managed to keep her thoughts to herself. She’d lost a lot of blood, which the doc reminded her, repeatedly, as he stitched her up. Once the pain meds had kicked in, she was beyond ready to get home.

  Parker Jax hadn’t left her. At all. He remained near, not touching her, yet she swore he did. Everywhere.

  Hours later, she sighed as her too-sexy neighbor lifted her into the passenger seat, strong fingers around her waist. To her mind—obviously her drug-addled mind—his touch lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary.

  Even if it was only in her head, it would be nice in her dreams to think he couldn’t keep from touching her.

  As he slid behind the wheel, she shut her eyes and prayed to be home soon. He didn’t speak, and she hated how much time had passed, nearing evening. Her day had been wasted. She ground her jaw and held on to hope she could get more work done tonight. She was behind on this piece and didn’t relish the idea of missing her delivery date.

  And she was going to be even slower now because of this injury.

  The truck slowed, and she sat up. There wasn’t any way to ignore the fact that they were the center of attention as all his guests watched Parker pull up to her house. Behind the wheel of her truck. He wove carefully through the vehicles whose owners had decided it was okay to use her driveway. With ease, he backed them in and killed the ignition.

  Be nice, Skylar. Open your mouth and say something kind for him helping you. He could have left you and just taken the blender. But he drove you there, kept you safe, and didn’t leave you.

  “Thank you,” she muttered. “For taking me”—her words faltered when he pinned her with his sharp stare—“to the hospital. I know you had plans to be elsewhere. And doing other things.”

  He removed her key. “Don’t move.”

  “I can—”

  “Ain’t got no call to argue with me. Stay in the damn truck until I get there.”

  His tone was dangerous, and it vibrated through her.

  “What’s up, Parker?” one of the hot babes in a bright turquoise bikini yelled. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

  Skylar began to move just as he opened the door. His dark brows narrowed and she stilled, unnerved by the glint in his eyes. “Do you ever listen?” He never once addressed the blonde’s comments.

  “Do you ever not bark orders like you’re a goddamn commanding officer?” Her words were slightly slurred, but she didn’t apologize, the meds apparently having boosted her argumentative side. “I mean, I’ve thanked you already, said you could use my blender, let you in my house, and you’re still yelling at me. In fact, I’m not trying to get your attention or take up your time. I’ve gone out of my way so you didn’t have to come.”

  His gaze narrowed as he assessed her features.

  “Maybe I like the idea of you in my arms, Skylar Radford. Ever think that’s what’s going on here? And I’ll wait until the drugs are out of your system before we address the comment of me coming.” He unhooked her belt and swept her up in his arms. “Because, trust me, I have plans for both of us doing that. Multiple times.”

  Nope. That thought wasn’t entertained at all. Not in real life. However, for fantasies that was something entirely different.

  “Parker!”

  Again, he ignored the screeching harpy and carried Skylar back into her home. He took her directly to the couch, where he deposited her and placed her meds nearby. After which, he took her phone and entered his number.

  “You call me if you need anything or feel the slightest bit off.”

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  He bent down and boxed her in. “Don’t test me, Skylar.”

  “Don’t you have a party with horny women to throw?”

  He dragge
d two knuckles down her cheek. Her pulse skittered beneath the simple—yet surely hollow—gesture.

  “Say the word, and I’ll stay here with you.”

  All she detected in that spoken statement was pure honesty, and it threw her. His deep baritone rumbled through her, making her long for something more, something she’d had in the past, only to have it yanked from her. She dismissed her wavering emotions and pushed those memories back to a dark, uninhabited corner of her mind. “Goodbye?”

  His grin told her he wasn’t perturbed by her answer. He stood up, winked, and left her alone.

  …

  “What was all that, Parker?” Sally asked, her fake boobies about to spill free of the fuchsia top. “You said you were getting a blender and then tore off with her for hours.” She sidled up to him, laying her silicone implants against his forearm. “We came to see you, too. We know how you all are when you’re just off a long deployment. Insatiable, and just how we like you.”

  “I took her to the hospital.” His comment fell stiffly as he placed Skylar’s blender on the counter. Simple and functional, much like the woman who owned it.

  If he wanted to be honest with himself, damn woman had had her claws in him since the first day he’d seen her.

  It was a desire backed by his dick 100 percent. But she was a Goody Two-shoes and not the kind of woman he should ever get involved with.

  Didn’t stop his dreams, though, of having her screaming as he fucked her. Still, dreams were one thing, reality something completely different.

  “Why?”

  Shoving back his impatience at the thought that she held any sway over him, he plugged her blender in.

  “Shits and giggles.” He caught the eye of his friend Gibson, who responded with a nod. Moments later, Sally had been swept outside to hang with the others.

  “What about the blender?” Ioan questioned as he rested his hip against the counter.

  “This one stays inside. I don’t need it destroyed like the last one.” He rubbed his chin. “Also, tell everyone to stop blocking her driveway.”

  Okay, so he’d been an ass about that a lot.

  His friend nodded, blond bangs falling forward over his eyes until he pushed them back; their parties could get rowdy. “Got it.”

 

‹ Prev