Muscular arms cross over his equally muscular chest. Yeah, that struck a nerve with him.
“Miss me?” he asks with a cocky smile that makes me wet.
Yes. Glancing away, I stare at the wall. “But I didn’t text you!” I want to shout, but I don’t. However, I am not going to make anything easier on him. “I didn’t even know you were gone.”
I hear him cross the room, and my body shivers in anticipation. “We’ve been apart for five days,” he says, his voice a rough whisper against my ear. “It doesn’t make you weak to admit you can’t live without me.”
“Can’t live without you?” I let out an unladylike snort. “I live just fine—”
Grabbing my wrist, he hauls me to him. I give in without a protest and press myself against him. Heat steals up my hand, from the spot where his skin is touching mine. Judging by the way Seth is looking at me, he’s feeling that heat, too.
His free hand wraps around the base of my neck, pulling me closer.
“You can’t just show up and bully me into—”
“Shut up, Rowan.” Then he kisses me. It’s hot and hungry. It’s not sweet. I bite at his bottom lip and he releases my neck to grab my hair, yanking on it a little to get my attention. “I haven’t been able to get the taste of you out of my mouth, my head…my body all day.”
“You hate that, don’t you?” I challenge.
“Hate that I can’t have you when I want—fuck yes. Hate that I love the taste of you. Never.”
He lets go of my hand and cups my breast, squeezing it lightly. I moan, unable to help myself. His head dips, tongue flicking out to tease my hard nipple through my tank top. The pressure on my hair eases up a bit, and I look down in time to see him wrap his lips around the hard point and suck. My knees buckle, and without missing a beat, Seth lets go of my hair and wraps his arm around my back, supporting me.
His fingers trace a path straight to the top of my panties, teasing the edge. “If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop,” he commands.
I clamp my lips together and shake my head. I want this. God, I want this. I want him.
He smiles against my shirt even as his hand slides down my stomach and straight to where I’m hot, wet, and aching. My toes curl and I grab hold of his wide shoulders.
“That’s right, baby. Hang on to me while I give you a ride.” He presses his lips to my neglected nipple, still teasing me through my tank. As thin as it is, I might as well not be wearing one. I can feel every sweep of his tongue, every rough bite of his teeth, and every suck of his mouth.
A large finger eases inside of me, and I moan his name. He starts pumping it in and out of me, adding a second finger.
“Look down, baby,” he commands. “Watch my fingers disappear.”
I obey him, almost coming right then when I see that he’s tugged my panties down far enough for me to watch him. His thumb presses against my clit, fingers curling. I choke out a cry, and grab his wrist.
“Not going deep enough for you, sweetheart?” he asks. “Show me what you want.”
I shift my stand, spreading my legs wider and sending his fingers deeper. “Like that,” I whisper. “Do it like that.”
His arm tightens around my back, the muscles bunching. I can hear how wet I am right now, and it turns me on even more.
“Let me hear you come, Rowan,” he says and gently bites down on my nipple.
I scream as I give in, as my orgasm hits me. I’m dying and flying…my heart is racing in my chest, my blood is pounding in my ears, and he still keeps rocking his fingers inside of me, keeps rubbing my clit and scraping his teeth against my nipple. Finally, he stops, sliding his fingers out and looking at me while he licks one.
“Better than I remember.” He gently lays me down on the bed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re gorgeous when you let down your walls.”
I’m too wrung out to be a smartass. “The next time you give me an orgasm, I want your cock inside of me.”
His eyes flare hot. He tears off his clothes, getting between my thighs and grabbing a condom before ripping it open and rolling it on his hard cock.
“Fucking missed you,” he says as his mouth swoops down to mine.
He shoves his tongue into my mouth, just the way I love, and I grab his hair. Desperate to get close to him, I don’t want anything between us. I spread my thighs. He rubs his erection over my sensitized clit and I cry out his name.
“Put me inside you,” he commands.
I grasp him and guide him to where I’m hot and wet and ready for him. I barely have the head of his cock inside before he thrusts deep. I jolt at his invasion.
“Perfect fit,” he says through gritted teeth. “Every damn time.”
He begins to thrust inside of me, filling me up and making my breasts bounce. I grab on to his wide shoulders, sink my fingernails into his skin, and listen to him growl in response. He bites my neck and my hips shoot off the bed.
“Ah, Seth.”
“Come for me, baby. I need to feel you come all over me.” He places a large hand under my ass and pulls me against him. The head of his cock hits me in a spot it never has before.
I choke out a scream.
“Knew you’d like that,” he says before letting his head drop to my shoulder. “I’ll keep pumping that sweet pussy while you concentrate on coming. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I cry out as he hits that spot again and again. My body bows, feeling like it’s going to break in half.
Without warning, his thrusts slow. “No. I was—”
“Trust me, Rowan. I’ll make this good.” I don’t want him to make it good. Seth’s version of good is sex with loving emotions. What I need is sex that has an ultimate goal of orgasms. That’s it.
His hands relax their tight grip on my body and begin to caress my skin. “Trust me. I promised to come back twice and I have. Both times. Because I love you.” Fingertips trace the lines of my hip, steal across my stomach, and then make their way up to my breasts. One of his fingers follows the curve of my breasts.
“Stop talking,” I demand. I can’t concentrate on anything when he says he loves me. When he reminds me that he has, in fact, kept his word.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, looking down at me. He seeks out my lips, my mouth, and tongue. Over and over he touches me, using his body to torture me in the most erotic of ways, leaving me hanging on the edge of a precipice.
When he abruptly pulls out, I cry out at the loss of him, but he silences my protest with a hot kiss. He makes a trail of hot kisses all the way down my body, until his broad shoulders are between my legs and his hair is brushing against my inner thighs.
The first stroke of his tongue makes me fist the sheets while the second has me crying out his name. I feel my inner muscles tightening around him. “Oh, God,” I moan. “I’m close. So close.”
Just as my orgasm starts, he stops and flips me over. “Why are you stopping?”
Grabbing my breasts he leans over me and kisses my shoulder, then slides inside of me. “Thought we could try it this way. Never did before.”
I rock back into him, closing my eyes to the pleasure. “There are a lot of things we never did.”
I feel his smile against my back. “Good thing we have all weekend.”
“Like you can last that long,” I say.
He bites my shoulder. “Challenge accepted.”
Seth
THREE WEEKS LATER
We have a routine now…I guess. Rowan and I barely talk over the phone—sometimes I’ll send a text that she’ll eventually answer—but then we screw like bunnies on the weekends.
For any other man, this would be heaven. For me, it’s fucking hell.
It’s like Rowan has pigeonholed me into a specific part of her life and the rest can’t be touched. Only her body is allowed to be touched—not her heart, and certainly not her mind.
I jog along the main artery of Camp Lejeune, my breath coming out in white puffs of smok
e. Vehicles, both civilian and federal, fill up the road. A lower-ranking Marine salutes as he walks past me, and I remember to salute him back almost too late.
Fresh recruits stumble off buses while drill sergeants bark orders. One of them—a freckle-faced kid fresh off the farm—looks like he’s about to piss himself. That wasn’t me when I got here. Oh, hell no.
I was pissed and bigger than the other guys. I had months of prison time under my belt and a reputation to match. Not that it did me much good. A lot of guys gave me a wide berth, but others looked at me like I was a piece of dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. All of them wanted to be there, but I was forced to be there by a fucking crackpot judge with a ton of political influence. Only O’Dwyer spoke to me.
But that was probably the best thing that happened given the circumstances. Brian was a lifesaver, both literally and figuratively. He was hard-core Corps, his father and grandfather all serving before him. He was proud and he was more than willing to take on a punk-ass little shit like me. For some reason only known to him at the time, he had enlisted later in life, so he was older than me by a decade, at twenty-eight.
Later, during a particularly bad round of incoming fire in Afghanistan, he shared that he had gotten in trouble as a kid rebelling against his parents’ strict rules and ended up in jail after an aggravated assault conviction. He had recognized that look in my eye, but he had also figured out I hadn’t completely gone over to the dark side.
Brian had faced death more times in prison than I ever have while serving in the Marines. When I’m stateside, I’m as safe as your average guy. Maybe safer, since I know how to properly defend myself, with and without a weapon.
The flag retreat ceremony begins and I’m stuck outside, so I stand at parade rest since I can’t see the Stars and Stripes. I hide my smirk when I spot O’Dwyer a few clicks away. He was trying to sneak out early, but attempting to beat retreat is a risk at this time of day.
The first notes of the national anthem begin to play, and I snap to attention and salute. The entire base goes quiet; not even vehicles move. For me, this is the best part of the day. In winter, when the sun sets so early, it’s like the entire base, with permission from Mother Nature, is signaling for us to go home.
Only, I’m not sure where home is anymore. It’s certainly not Jacksonville, and it might not be Forrestville with Rowan like I planned.
Reading into Rowan’s words is proving difficult. Most of the time I ignore what she says and concentrate on what she’s saying without words: how she snuggles into me each night after we make love. How she keeps the house stocked with Butterfingers, my favorite candy. How she kisses me.
Yet, she can’t bring herself to greet me when I show up on Friday nights. I have to speak to her first. Touch her first. Everything is on me. That isn’t like Rowan. She usually gives as good as she gets. During sex, she is just as aggressive, just as amped up, and just as vocal as I am.
As soon as retreat is over, I jog over to the parking lot where I’d left my truck. Maybe it’s time to give Rowan a dose of her own medicine. Maybe that will wake her up and help her notice what’s in front of her.
Chapter 15
Rowan
Seth barely acknowledges me as he walks inside the house. Usually, he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me to the bedroom, while he alternates between dirty talk and saying how much he missed me during the week.
With each passing day, it’s getting harder and harder to resist him, and easier to trust him. For more than a month, he’s kept his word and come home to me each weekend.
“Hi, Seth,” I say as he walks completely past me, like I’m not standing there.
He throws his duffel bag onto the floor beside the recliner and then plops down in it, kicking up the footrest. “Bring me a beer, will ya, babe?”
“Okay.” I move to the kitchen and grab a beer from the selection of our favorites. I pop off the cap with a bottle opener and walk to him. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He clicks through the stations and settles on a football game. “Holy shit. Did you see that play?”
“Yeah, but Franklin is going to get a—”
“Ten to one he gets a flag. Oh, you’ll take that bet?”
Nose wrinkling, I look at Seth. He’s talking on the phone. I cross my arms over my chest and settle down into the sofa. Such bullshit.
—
I like football games. I like watching them, either live at the Carolina Panthers’ stadium or with a group of friends at the bar. But after an eternity of Seth shouting at the screen and requesting more food and beer, I’m about to lose my mind.
“Shit, baby. This popcorn is burned to hell and back. Make me some more.” He laughs into the phone. “Right? She can overhaul an engine but can’t cook worth shit.” He mouths “Just kidding” to me, then nods at the bowl.
Jaw locking in place, I take the bowl from him…and dump the contents on his head. He jumps up, wiping at his head. “What’s wrong with you?”
I throw the plastic bowl at the recliner. It bounces harmlessly past him. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve barely spoken to me, or even know I’m here. I’m just your servant,” I spit out, “while you’re talking to some asshole I don’t even know on the phone.”
His entire demeanor changes. Gone is the cocky son of a bitch who pissed me off and in his place stands the man I’ve come to expect to show up every Friday afternoon. “Sucks, doesn’t it, Rowan? Sucks to be treated like you’re nothing—just here to answer to someone’s beck and call.”
“What?”
“You couldn’t put up with me acting exactly like you for thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. I’ve been doing this for more than a month without fail. I’ve put up with your silence and your demands.”
“You were talking crap about me to your friend,” I say, grasping at straws because I realize he’s right. Maybe I can turn this on him, and I won’t feel so bad.
He shakes his head. “It was just an act. Check my phone if you don’t believe me.”
My feet are glued to the floor. I can’t move. “I don’t—” I swallow. Apologize, Rowan. He’s right. Apologize and promise to be better. He deserves it.
But twenty-three years of abandonment stand in my way. I’ve been left alone by my father, my mother, my brother, and the boy I love. Only the boy I love came back as a man, demanding to stay in my life.
“No more, Rowan. I’m done.” He glances at his shirt and yanks it up and over his head, treating me to his hard body. His dog tags fall down against his chest and my eyes go right to it, then lower to his abs. The man has an actual eight-pack. Something most of the guys I know can only dream about because they’re too busy drinking and smoking to do more than walk from the living room to the kitchen when they’re hungry.
“Grease stains are a bitch to get out,” he mutters.
I hold out my hand. “I’ll take care of it.”
His gaze slices to me. “I don’t expect you to do laundry for me.”
“You also didn’t expect me to pour buttered popcorn all over you, either,” I point out. It’s not an apology but I’m working up to it. Reaching down, I take his bag. “Anything else you got in here to wash?”
“No.” He runs a hand over his face. “I can’t do this.”
My heart slams against my chest. “Can’t do what?”
His phone actually rings. “Shit. That’s my commander. I have to answer.” Answering the phone, he unzips his duffel while I hold it, and yanks out a pullover. A pack of papers falls to the floor, but he doesn’t see them. “This might be awhile,” he says, his black brows furrowing as he walks toward the front door. “Yes, sir, but I flew that course two days ago and saw nothing that would indicate—”
He shuts the door behind him. Bending down, I grab his papers and attempt to put them back together. The words transfer and Hawaii capture my attention. Slowly, I start from the beginning and read over everything. He is supposed to report to Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii, in three week
s.
There’s no way I’d have enough time to make a decision about this. Then again, he never told me about Hawaii. He never told me anything at all.
Moisture splashes onto the black ink, but the words barely discolor. “How could he do this to me? Again.” More water falls, and I stupidly look up at the ceiling to see if it’s leaking. Tears run from the corners of my eyes, hot and numerous.
The front door opens and closes again. “Rowan?” Seth rushes to me, taking me in his arms. “Shit. You’re crying. Look, I’m sorry. I only wanted to prove a point and took things too far.”
“Like to Hawaii far?” I hear myself ask.
“Fuck,” he mutters, trying to take the papers from me, but I refuse to give them up. I need proof of his betrayal. “It’s not what you think.”
I smile at him, but even I know it’s stiff and brittle, just like me at this moment. “It’s never what I think.”
Seth
Rowan looks so vulnerable, kneeling on the floor like she is. I lean back, trying to catch her eye, but it’s no use, she won’t look at me. She’s too busy staring at my old orders. Orders I had to refuse again today because there was a mix-up in my paperwork. I asked for another hard copy for my files. There is no way I’m going to have the Marines come arrest my ass for being AWOL over a damn filing error.
“I don’t believe you,” Rowan says.
Had I said all that out loud? “I’m serious. Why in the hell would I spend so much time with you if all I planned is to leave in the end?”
“To get back at me,” she says flatly.
“How much sense does that make, Rowan?”
“How much sense did it make for you to blame me for going to jail?”
I groan, letting go of her. “I was seventeen, damn it. Barely a man.”
Her blue eyes finally meet mine. “Now you’re a man of twenty-four and ready to leave me. Again. And to make things easier on your conscience, you deeded me this house and are totally willing to sell the business to me if I want it.” Her beautiful eyes narrowed. “Do you feel better now?”
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