Safe in His Arms (Love's Command)

by Billi Jean

  He bent his head, grimacing when another tear broke free to slip down her cheek.

  “Damn, sugar, you’re killing me. Those women? Shit, those women wanted nothing more than a quick lay. That’s all they ever were and hell, you were young, so damn pretty, I—”

  “Not that young. Not too young to—”

  “You were.” He touched their foreheads, but she shook her head and looked down, refusing to allow him to tip her face up with a hand. “Damn it, Mandy. Fuck, hate me for being an idiot, but I was trying to give you time. Time to grow up without me holding you too tight. You were just a kid when I first took one look at you and realised no one else was going to do.”

  At his words, she softened. Something inside her went away, the pain, the hurt, the anger simply settled, eased slowly until she could take a breath without it hurting. He’d not explained the other woman, but what he did say, she heard, could hear without denying it outright. Maybe the attacker was here, maybe he was watching, but Ace had the place under guard for Lacey. Could the guy get past that, to reach Mac when he might not even know she was here, in Hawaii and not Florida?

  She’d have to tell Mac, she realised. He’d need to know why she’d really left, then he’d want to know when, and what her attacker had done. She could tell him what, but not when. If he knew when… She looked up at him and understood, if he knew when, he’d never forgive himself.

  Mac had always been a hero.

  Was he strong enough to keep them both safe?

  Chapter Two

  Mac felt Mandy gently ease in his arms. His heart raced. She never stood up to anyone like she had him, and damn if he wasn’t proud of her but she’d picked the wrong fight, the wrong man to stand up to. He felt like he held her but still might not have her. She didn’t seem to realise he’d do anything he had to do to ensure she let him back in.

  Her warm breath fanned his chest. He felt it even through the material of his shirt. She pressed her hands against his stomach, not pushing him away any longer, but not moving either. Slowly, she raised her head and his breath caught all over again at having her so close.

  He simply stared down at the beauty of her face, too full of mixed-up emotions to speak. Her soft pink lips, the small freckles on her cheeks and nose, and the shape of her flawless face sucker-punched him. Without doing more than being here, close to him, she snagged the breath from his throat and held it hostage. Just like his heart.

  For what felt like an eternity, she stared up at him silently scanning his face, as if mesmerising him. Her grey eyes darkened, flickering with bigger shards of blue and brown. Her irises always amazed him. The colour moved, like liquid.

  “Mac.” The softness of her voice eased the knot she’d tied around his heart. Her fingers tightened into fistfuls of his T-shirt. “Are you lying?”

  He shook his head, suddenly feeling like he’d swallowed glass. “I’ve never lied to you, Mandy.”

  She frowned at his words. “You have. For a long time.” As she spoke, she released her death grip on his shirt and slowly reached up to trace the tips of her fingers over the scar lining his jaw. Just that light touch speared through him as sharp as a knife. He’d wanted her when he’d been wounded, needed her until he’d sworn her loss hurt more than the painful wounds.

  As he stood there, too cautious to move, he watched her gaze follow the path of her hand until a tear tracked down her cheek again.

  Reaching up, he carefully captured her hand. “Mandy, don’t cry, sugar.”

  “Mac, you’ve been hurt,” she whispered.

  He brought her fingers to his lips and tightened his other arm around her slender waist, drawing her body carefully up against his. Giving her plenty of time to protest, he slowly bent his head and took her lips.

  Her minty taste hit like a ton of bricks. The softness of her mouth set him on fire. She let out a surprised cry but slid her hands up his chest to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Before he could savour the full press of her body against his, she surprised him by tangling her fingers in his hair to pull him down and more firmly mesh their lips.

  A rush of adrenaline mixed with lust surged through every limb. She wanted him, wanted him as much as he wanted her. She didn’t hold back, but moulded her body to his. She fitted him perfectly. So perfectly, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. He traced the lines of her back and shoulders, then downward to cup one firm, lush cheek of her ass while he gripped the back of her neck lightly with his other hand to hold her still for his kiss.

  It wasn’t enough. She moaned softly, tugging at his hair to add to the delicious sensations pulsing along his body. Damn, he was seconds away from coming. His balls were on fire and he could feel that rush along his spine that indicated shit was going to blow. Still, he couldn’t have cared less. Mandy was tender, sweet, warm, and so lost in their kiss he wasn’t holding back from giving her anything she wanted.

  And thank God, she wanted him. She relaxed against him, trusting him as she had that one amazing night. But now, instead of letting him fully guide her, she rocked his world with soft, little demanding sounds and hot, passionate caresses. She traced his shoulders, his arms, and back, then slipped her warm hands under his shirt to drag her nails along his spine.

  He hauled her closer and rubbed his aching cock against her thigh, immediately feeling a warm burst of pre-cum wet the aching head. He felt harder than he ever had in his life—except once before when he’d held her. His erection was so heavy and full it pulsed against his hip. She was just as lost. Being careful not to push too far, he gently angled her smaller body against his until he manoeuvred between her legs.

  In response, Mandy whimpered, dug her sharp nails into his shoulders, and practically climbed up him. Tenderness filled his chest and he curled her up closer. He’d dreamt of her—this—for so long. No way was he rushing this. He captured her lips firmly and began giving her the long, drugging kisses he’d wanted to for so long. The textures, the sweet curve of her lips, the wet heat of her mouth drove him higher. With a groan, he subtly thrust his hips against her to soothe the raging fire she was kindling in them both. He had to slow down, he knew it, felt it in his bones, but with her in his arms, he wanted her so badly he ached.

  With more control than he’d ever possessed, he lifted from her lips and kissed her cheeks and nose, slowly easing over the silk of her skin to whisper in her ear, “Five years, Mandy. Five years, I’ve been burning up for you. We’re going to go slow, ease into this so you know I mean it, okay?”

  She nodded against his chest, breathless and trembling. He felt the tremors and tightened his arms around her to keep from pushing for more. He wanted to give her everything. Anything she wanted. Pleasure until she grew hoarse from crying out from orgasm after orgasm—but was she ready for that?

  After only a few seconds of letting him hold her, she stiffened. He anchored his arm around her lower back a bit tighter.

  “Oh, God, we shouldn’t have—”

  “Mac? Mac, I really don’t want to haul your ass out of there.” The pounding on the door followed by Ace’s angry voice stopped Mandy. She sucked in a breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

  “Mac, let me go.”

  “Not a chance, sugar.”

  Mandy smiled slightly and sighed, resting her head against his chest. “Let me go for now. I need—”

  “Time. I’ll give you time, but, Mandy?” He tipped her face up with his finger, examined her flushed face and puffy, just-kissed lips and rubbed his thumb over the soft curve. “No running.”

  She nodded, blinking a few times and pulled away. He let her go, watching her steady her breathing and quickly pull herself together. He wanted to haul her back into his arms, but held back.

  A shuddering breath left her suddenly and she caught his gaze, looking as hungry as he felt.

  “This isn’t over yet, Mandy.”

  Chapter Three

  ‘This isn’t over yet, Mandy.’

  God, what did a girl do with suc
h a primal, all-male, husky threat like that? Paired with a muscled, hard-as-nails body, a fierce, lust-filled gaze and a hard-on she could clearly see against his cargoes, and Mandy had been lost for Mac.

  Now she was…

  Confused. Awash in such a fever of need, she felt like she should have yelled at Ace to leave so she could jump on that very big part of Mac until she was screaming in orgasm.

  Instead she was outside, in the ocean swimming with her friends, and all she could think about was that she should have told him about the attacker. But he wasn’t doing anything she’d ever dreamt he’d do…well, other than almost making love to her up against the hotel wall.

  A rush of excitement flushed her body at the thought, making her sensitive nipples tighten painfully. He had almost done that. God help her, she’d almost let him.

  ‘Fuck, hate me for being an idiot, but I was trying to give you time. Time to grow up without me holding you too tight.’

  He’d been so intense. So aggressive. What was she supposed to do with that? How was she supposed to handle that?

  Mandy dived under, letting the warm water soothe all the confusion. She needed answers. She could have them too. All she had to do was get Mac alone again and demand to know everything. Instead, she took the coward’s way out and avoided being alone with him so they could talk.

  It was such a confusing mess. What would she say anyway? ‘So, I saw you with another woman?’ How pathetic would that sound?

  Shame heated her cheeks. Maybe she’d not pleased him in bed. She’d been amazed at every single second with him. Demanded more, even. Had that turned him off?

  ‘Again.’

  ‘No, sugar, not again. Hell, I’m a big boy, you’ll be too tender.’

  ‘Again, Mac. Again.’

  ‘Ah, hell, I’ll be careful, real careful.’

  Maybe her demands had turned him off because he’d wanted something a great deal dirtier. She’d always fantasised about Mac making love to her wildly, tossing her down and simply pounding into her with rough groans. She’d brought herself to orgasm repeatedly to those fantasies. Something about Mac being so out of control that he simply took her wherever they were—against a wall, over a chair, in a movie theatre—set her off almost too quickly. She’d thought he’d be like that, rough and tender all at once, so hot he couldn’t wait.

  After all, she’d practically seen him, once before, do just that. In his bed. By himself. She’d been sixteen and he’d been home on leave and drunk—sleeping and having a wet dream. About her. He’d groaned her name telling her he couldn’t wait, that he needed her now, right now. He’d urged her to suck him harder, to open so she could take more of him. She’d been so hot, so wet between her thighs she’d gone to her room and had masturbated to two quick orgasms that had left her shaken for days afterwards.

  “You’re still the little mermaid, I guess.”

  Mac. She should have known he’d not stay on the beach. Her heart tripped over itself but she tried to play it off. Lacey was close by, or had been. She turned in the water to see Mac only a few feet from her. Beyond him, Ace and Lacey were swimming together. She spotted Eagle and Katya laughing and wrestling in the water on her other side. A few single men were near, too, all with that unmistakable military background that brought a certain awareness to a man, an alertness they couldn’t hide. She swallowed tightly and finally looked at Mac.

  She wished in that moment, with all her heart, that he truly did love her.

  The sun glistened on his bronze shoulders, highlighting the short rough hairs on his chest. He had a man’s body, hard, lean with ribs lined with hard muscle. Not a body designed in some air-conditioned gym, but a warrior’s body lined with hard, dense muscles used to defend himself, not to draw the ladies. Oh, he could draw the ladies, she knew, but he didn’t stay fit for them. His strength was built to fight and protect. A true hero. But God how hot he looked, how handsome with the blue ocean and light sky behind him.

  She could remember the feel of his skin, tickling and arousing her breasts when he’d lowered himself over her. He’d grinned, and touched his forehead to hers when she’d told him how good he felt against her.

  His hair was longer now. Not cut in that military angle he’d always worn. He looked sexy, tough, the bad boy. The strip of lighter hair by his temple drove her nuts. It always had.

  His smile slipped, but he’d not really been smiling. His eyes had always been her clue. He wasn’t happy. His expression was hard, tight with tension. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  She shrugged. He dropped his attention to her breasts and seemed to snag there. Her heart rate tripled. She wore her new Victoria’s Secret halter, with a matching pair of cheeky bottoms. Her stomach tightened anxiously. Did he like what he saw?

  He glanced back up and swam closer.

  “Nothing, just enjoying the sun and water.”

  “Huh, is that so?” His gaze sharpened. “You swim a lot in Africa?”

  She brushed her hand over her eyes and wondered at his tone. He sounded jealous. He’d been jealous before. She’d sensed it whenever she’d got too close to another man—especially one of the guys from the team—but he’d never acted on it. Would he now?

  “Sure, I was mostly in South Africa, so sure, all the time.”

  She bobbed under before he could say anything but she thought he’d swallowed tightly. Was he jealous? She shouldn’t feel a thrill at that.

  No, no thrill over jealousy, Mandy.

  She broke the surface and found herself smack in his arms. He tightened his hold, acting as if he’d bumped into her.

  “Yeah? All the time.” His jaw bunched as if he was biting back some more words.

  She wiggled and he released her. “Yeah, we had a great beach carved out for us. Nice beach, volleyball net, sweet set-up. I got to swim all the time. The guys were good about letting us on the base and allowing us free swims.” She shrugged again, and watched Mac’s jaw do that little bunch again.

  Whether she wanted to or not, she was thrilled. Could people change? Did he regret going to that other woman?

  “Yeah? Is that so?” he asked.

  She found herself pulled up close to Mac’s tough chest. He was hot, so sizzling hot she forgot to struggle. Heck, she could barely remember her name.

  Mac’s expression fascinated her. It was tight with anger. “Did you wear this, sugar, and shake that pretty ass for all those Brits?”

  Suddenly she felt him cup her butt. He slid his fingers under the fabric of her cheeky bottoms and squeezed. She tried hard to hate how good that felt. She should. Really, she should, but, up against her bare stomach, his muscled abs tightened, the hair on his chest teasing her because she wanted to feel it against her nipples, and suddenly she felt his erection, hard and thick, along her hip.

  “Huh, is that what you think? Sometimes people simply do things for others,” she managed but, holy moly, had she ever felt anything as hot as Mac? She remembered how dark and long his erection looked, how the crown rounded and flared above the thick hard flesh, all the way down to his sandy blond thatch of hair. She’d wanted to swallow him whole, suck along the length to taste every inch of him. But she hadn’t. He’d taken over, controlled the sex, but after, all these years after, she’d dreamt, fantasised about loving every inch of his body with her mouth.

  “Is that so? Such a sweet little ass, Mandy. I think you did strut this gorgeous butt around for all those Brits. I bet they fell all over it trying to get into your pants.”

  He tightened his grip on her butt, his long fingers temptingly close to the cleft dividing each cheek. He’d touched her there, rubbed his fingers along her small opening, pressing and teasing her with low sounds of pleasure in his voice. The memory was so fresh she felt a wave of arousal surge through her pussy and wet her bare folds simply thinking of anal sex with him.

  “Especially with an ass like this,” he husked, rubbing his hand down to grip her ass tighter.

  “Mac! Cut
that out.” Now why did that sound like a laugh? She wrapped her arms around his neck and met his eyes. “You’re jealous.”

  Mac didn’t seem to see the humour, though. He squinted at her. “Mandy, you don’t want to make me jealous.”

  She snorted. He was. So arrogant and proud, too. The big, strong, tough Navy SEAL.

  “Make you, huh?” She wiggled out of his grip and dived under the waves, heading to shore. Make him? He’d touched another woman and told her not to make him jealous.

  Mac caught her by her ankle. She really tried not to feel the bubble of happiness rise above the painful memories. She broke the surface and attempted to frown up at his sudden grin.

  “Don’t get mad, sugar. Here—” He handed her a set of goggles and a snorkel he’d pulled out of the pockets of his cargo shorts. He wasn’t even wearing swim trunks. That shouldn’t be sexy. “Let’s go see what we can see.”

  She watched him pull out another set. They were in chest-high water, simply floating on the waves. She could snorkel with him, couldn’t she? First, she wanted to hear him admit it.

  “You’re jealous.” Why she needed to hear him say it she didn’t know, but she stood and faced him.

  He stopped adjusting the snorkel and met her eyes. His were darker than before, the browns in his hazel eyes stormier. “Yeah. I’m pissed off at anyone who gets to look at you dressed like this when you aren’t with me.”

  The admission did something odd to her breathing, hitching it up like it did when she couldn’t catch her breath because of the asthma. But it also felt hard, hot, and full of tears.