True. It hurts to even think that he is totally right, and yet, did I not think the same not minutes ago when he didn’t bother to ask if I was okay?
“You’re right,” I say with a sigh, resting back to stare at the ceiling. “I just wish you weren’t, and I feel terrible. I could have made my point without the nastiness.”
“What was your point exactly, Peach, and don’t give me that baleful eye.”
I’m not glaring—at least I don’t mean to be glaring—as I look over and get sidetracked by his naked chest and the fine strip of dark hair running down into his waistband.
Oh yum. He’s not wearing any underwear, and I can clearly see just the very top of his sex and the dark hair surrounding it. The sight has me switching gears swiftly, and I lick my lips and clench my thighs as arousal and the urgent want I’ve been denying flashes hot and bright.
I’ve never been particularly sexual, but now that I know what this body and his can do together, I find myself unable to stop the lust and wet heat clenching in my depths.
Jericho—being Jericho and watching me like a hawk—must see this because his eyes and nostrils flare and he tenses before coming up slowly and sliding close.
This man is the most attractive man I have ever had the honor of looking at. He’s muscled everywhere, heavily muscled with arms as big as my thighs and a torso that looks painted on. His hair, long and silky, gives him a rakish air and those blue eyes are so darn beautiful it takes my breath every time he looks at me.
The way he’s looking at me now says he wants me too, as does the biting of his bottom lip and the swelling behind his zipper.
“I want you so bad right now my cock is pounding, little peach, but…”
“But? What but? I’m sober!” I cry, scooting closer so that his thigh meshes with mine and his breath heats my lips.
I probably look and sound desperate, but I don’t care. I want him. I want to strip his pants off and do all the things the books speak about. Those things I couldn’t fathom wanting to do have become a constant haze in my mind. I want to stroke my palms over his rippling skin and dig my fingers into him just to feel all that tight strength. I want to look at every inch of him and taste and lick him down below and know the flavor of him like I know his scent.
“You’re hurt and emotional right now, so don’t even look at me with those brown eyes, baby, because I’m determined to play the gentleman at least once in this relationship so that fifty years from now when you’re bitching at me I have something to work with.”
“You keep saying that,” I whisper, moaning when my lips brush his ever so slightly.
“Because I mean it. You and me? We’re meant to be. I knew it when I saw you and you just about sealed the deal when you stumbled over to me and asked the boy from the wrong side of the tracks to sully your untouched little snatch. This?”
I squeak and moan, pushing closer when he cups my sex in one big hand and squeezes.
“This is mine, just as this is yours.”
Oh. God.
My hand meets his erection, and he forces me to cup him and, just, I spasm and moan, as my clit starts throbbing in steady pulses that make me push closer to his hand and grind down for more.
“Please.” I groan, squeezing my hand down to stroke and measure his girth, wanting to learn him even only in this small way.
“Goddamn.”
He growls at me in aroused anger and grasps the crotch of my panties, shredding them and tossing them aside. When his fingers meet my slit, he makes another satisfied rumble, and then it’s me who’s growling because he doesn’t tease or stroke slowly. He just collects some of my cream and pushes a finger in deep, his thumb going for my clit.
I should be mortified at how wet I am, but I’m too dazed to care as he rubs me hard and fast and plunges his finger into me. My orgasm builds fast and furiously with every scrape of his fingertip against my inner walls.
Jerking at the intensity, I can’t help the keening cry that escapes me when the waves build and crash instantly, my climax fast and strong.
“Oh, Jericho.”
He grunts and keeps stroking me slowly, bringing me down tenderly before pulling away and placing his forehead against mine.
“You’re going to kill me, woman.”
“I want to touch you.”
I do. I may be inexperienced and innocent. I may fumble a little, but I can give him back just some of what he’s given me. I want to—no, I need to—because if this is real, if indeed the rough and harsh-talking Jericho Evans really does want more from me than sex, I should be what he needs in return.
“No, for once, just one time, take what someone else can give you without wanting to please them. This, what you give me when I touch you, it’s a gift I cherish. We have our whole lives to give and take together; let me give to you now.”
My lip quivers a little and I don’t bother to hide my emotions as I look into his eyes and give in.
“I could fall in love with you so easily, Evans; it’s scary.”
“Good, because I’m going to fall for you too, little peach, if I haven’t already.”
Chapter Seven
Jericho
Gone are the soft looks and sweet words as I sit on a bar stool and watch Cleo hobble around on the crutches Josh brought her from the time he wiped out on his dirt bike and broke his leg.
My little Cleo may be a gentle lamb most times, but I have fast come to see that she’s got a lion prowling inside there, ready to tear and scratch whenever she lets it out to play.
She can glare all she wants and refuse to talk to me, I don’t care. No way, no how will I let her go back to work right now with the way she looks and the danger I feel closing in.
As an Army vet, I have a sixth sense about these things. I’ve had to develop it over the years and learn to trust it. It’s saved me countless times in combat, as well as helped me to understand myself and the way my body works.
Right now, I have the gut-crawling feeling that the shooting was just the beginning as far as she is concerned, and that if I let my guard down just a little, she’ll be taken from me before I can even lay claim to her.
This morning with her father? It was the best moment of my life, hands down. In a way, even better than the incomparable night we spent together, because up there for those very short seconds she laid claim to me, even if she didn’t know it.
I love that she let her inner beast out and came tearing to my defense because it tells me that while she may fight this thing between us, it is there, and it means something to her. More than just one night of mind-blowing sex and bodies coming together.
It says loud and clear that she feels at least a little something for me, and considering we’ve only known each other for three days now, I count myself ahead of the game.
At present, we are downstairs in the bar because Miss Worker Bee threatened to kneecap me if I tried to force her to “be lazy” much longer. That makes me laugh because the woman hasn’t so much as rested her legs before getting up and flitting around as if she has ants in her pants.
Personally, I would like to see what happens when she gets lazy and decides to have one day to herself where all she does in lie in bed and watch TV or maybe just talk to me for hours.
That’s my favorite option since I am dying to know everything about her. I want to know her favorite color, what she likes to eat, and by that I mean not what she eats because it’s acceptable, but what she really likes and would gorge herself on.
I want to know about her childhood, how she got that tiny scar just above her lip and what she thinks about the state of the world right now.
I want all that, and I want her to want to know me too, something that tickles me since it’s a miracle if I give a woman my real name before screwing her and bailing.
“Yo, Jericho, can I show Cleo how to mix shots?”
“Sure, just don’t let the little hellion drink them. She gets friendly when she’s drunk, and the only man she sho
uld be smiling at is me.”
I’m gratified by the giggle she gives me before scrunching her face and turning her back on me in a huff.
You’re thinking I’m nuts for loving the way she sneers at me and puts me in my place, but I do. I love it because I know she only does it with me. That makes me special, someone she subconsciously trusts to not hurt her, and it fills me with pride that she so easily trusts me this soon in our relationship.
As Josh keeps her distracted with his antics and keeps a decent distance from her when I snarl, I turn to give Smiley and Oak chin nods where they’re stationed at their regular booths packing two shotguns and twenties beneath their table.
They’re sentries, the first defense should any fool think to come in here and go for my girl. I pity anyone fool enough to even try because after the way she sweet talked them and cooed over their war stories, those rough old coots will shoot holes in anyone who so much as farts near their “girlie.”
“She’s looking alright after her ordeal.”
I turn to my right and grunt at King as he sits beside me, his own gun out and proud, just in case anyone doubts the mean glint in his eye.
“She’s a little fraud is what she is. She damn near bit my head off when I tried to get her to rest, and she’s been charming and flirting with Smiley and Oak all afternoon.”
That makes him laugh in a raspy, gravelly way, as he looks her over and nods happily.
“I like her. She’s sweet, and she doesn’t scream and faint like other girls. I expected her to, but she’s got more grit than I thought when I first saw her approach you that night. You can thank your stars she didn’t see me in my booth, or you’d be my backup in this.”
“Fucker.”
“Ahh, to be in love and on leave from real life. Must be nice not to have to focus on the ugly shit for a while and look at all that beauty instead.”
Sure is. I’ve seen every face life has to offer, and I have to say that Cleo’s is my favorite so far and likely to hold that title into eternity. I can’t say I’m in love though, not yet, but I can say that I feel more for her than I have for any other person.
My parents are both dead, something I don’t mourn since they were both idiots with more love for drugs and themselves than their kid, and I haven’t had anyone to love since. Sure, I feel for the guys, but that’s different.
With her, I see babies, maybe one or two to keep us on our toes, a home that is filled with all the love I never had and a reason to come home from every job.
In short, she’s fast becoming my reason to care about what happens to me, and I like that. I like that a whole hell of a lot more than feeling like everything is pointless.
When I joined the Army, it wasn’t with some misguided ideal that I would save the world and make it a better place. It was an escape, pure and simple, and all that was out there for a poor little kid with shitty grades who just scraped through graduation.
There I found camaraderie and an acceptance that I always craved, but I always knew that it was a bond forged in desperation and later for the part I played in their lives.
With her, I want everything I don’t have. I want laughter and unconditional love, and I want all of her moments to be wrapped up in me, just like all of mine will now be wrapped up and focused on her.
Cleo is sweet, open when she’s not around anyone who scares her, and she has the capacity to love that I need and crave as mine own. Just look at the way she laughs with Jill and Lenny, even though I have yet to meet two more dirty-minded females.
The way she just adopted Smiley and Oak, smiling and chatting to them, giving advice and offering to help them with their ailments. It speaks of someone who is pure of heart.
She’s all mine now, and I aim to keep her. I just have to find out who shot at her and why.
“Still nothing?”
“I haven’t asked her yet, and honestly, King, I don’t think she could be of any help anyway. The woman bakes cookies and knits blankets for the elderly for Christ’s sake. She won’t have a clue why she was shot at or who did it.”
“Dammit, I don’t like this. I have a feeling,” he grates, picking at the label on his beer bottle.
“Yep.”
“Where do you want me to start? Lex already ran her, and there isn’t a thing that stands out. She commuted to the city daily until she finished college and, like you said, she’s been quiet as a mou— she’s not made a peep since. She goes to work, church, and those meetings of hers, and that is it. Far as we can tell, her only rebellion has been attending Gay Pride Day each year, and she skipped this one when her father was under the weather.”
I keep silent and contemplate what this could be. Whenever we’re working a job, I make it my mission to find out everything involved so that we can cover every base for eventualities. It makes things easier, and I like knowing whom I’m protecting.
With her, it’s like trying to see the missing puzzle piece without any of the other pieces being on the table. She is literally, and I say this without any malice because I adore the woman, the most boring individual on the planet.
I blame her fuck of a father for that, and you better believe I’m paying him a visit with my guys when this is all over just to let him know how much I appreciate his trying to turn my girl into a robot with no emotions or needs.
That said, I have nothing to go on, no starting point, and it’s driving me nuts.
“Check out the father again. Maybe he has enemies who want to send a message.”
“Sorry, man, already did and the douche came out even more boring than…I mean he does nothing but golf and work. He’s so fucking straight it makes me sick. He never argues with people, and from what I can gather, he’s a stickler for appearances. No scenes of any kind from what that guy at the hardware store told me.”
Hell. I figured, but it was worth a try.
“What about Blaze?”
“What about him?”
My eyes are still on Cleo as King grunts this, and I stiffen when I hear the door open behind me. Josh does as he’s been told and shifts in such a way that Cleo is completely covered, and I hear the click of hammers and the shotguns being pumped.
Good men.
“You lost, pretty boy?” Oak asks in his smoker’s voice, just as I turn my head to peer at the soft-looking pecker filling my doorway.
“Uh, n-n-no, just looking for my…oh thank God, Cleo, I was so worried!”
The way she smiles as she shunts Josh aside makes me relax, and I narrow my eyes when the douche scampers to the bar and falls into a seat, his high-sheen shoes getting the bitch brow from King.
“Garth! You came.”
She seems happy, yet subdued for all the joy I see, and I narrow my eyes at her as she leans over and plants a kiss on the man’s cheek. Don’t like that.
“Peaches, you care to introduce us, or should I take exception to my girlfriend’s lips on another man?”
“Oh, pooh! Hold it in, Jericho. This is my brother, Garth. Garth, this is Jericho Evans, my er—”
“Man,” I growl, coming to my feet and stepping over to the man. “I’m her man, and she is my woman.”
So what if that sounds Neanderthal? I feel it when he takes her hand and kisses her palm. I don’t like that.
“Ni-nice to meet you, Jericho.”
“Mr. Evans. Now, Peaches baby, do you think you can do me a favor and not hold his hand quite so tightly? It makes me think you’re feeling lonely, and it’s my job to fill those holes,” I say suggestively, making her blush bright red.
King snickers, and I hear Josh choke as Garth throws her hand away and gulps.
“You… You,” she huffs, narrowing her eyes.
“Er, I can’t stay long. I just wanted to come in and talk to you about Daddy,” he says, giving her a look.
Strike one.
Cleo’s face falls, and I see King’s lip curl as he straightens to his feet.
“He-he was being unreasonable, Garth. Jericho saves m
y life, and he didn’t bother to even thank him,” she mumbles, looking down in shame.
“That’s just how he is, Cleo. You know better than to say those nasty things. Why don’t you come on home and forget this foolishness? Sheriff Nokes will put a patrol on the house, and we have the alarm. Come on now. I think you know you are being willful.”
“Strike two, tucker,” King snarls, coming up behind me.
I wave him off subtly and place a hand on Garth’s shoulder, smiling sweetly at Cleo as she looks up with teary eyes.
“Now, Garth, bro, obviously, you do not understand that Cleo and I are engaged and in love. She belongs here with me where she’s safe and I can make sure she isn’t running around doing God knows what when she should be resting a little.”
I accompany the words with a squeeze that will give him knots when he goes to protest, and I feel King’s smile when the man squeaks like a girl and gasps.
“We don’t want to upset Cleo, now do we? Not after she’s been through this ordeal.”
I see him get my meaning, and I feel my smile as he nods quickly and stammers his apologies to his sister.
“Uh, of course not. I didn’t mean any offense, or to sound like I don’t, er, want you to be happy, Cleo. Uh, maybe when you’re feeling better, we could go out to lunch?” he grunts, and then I slap his back and chuckle as if I don’t want to rip his tongue out.
Cleo loses the hurt look and smiles, her face shining in a way that I would kill to keep seeing for the next lifetime.
“Yeah! Since Jericho spoke to Kimmy, I think I would love to finally try the new pie selections at the diner. That sounds good. Jericho?”
“Peaches?”
“I think Garth is ready to leave now.”
Well fuck me. Her smile is just this side of gleeful, and I see the satisfied gleam in her eye that tells me she knows just what happened, and she is not displeased with my efforts.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 21