The Titan Series: Military Romance Boxed Set

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The Titan Series: Military Romance Boxed Set Page 10

by Cristin Harber


  Mia held a leg inches off the bed, testing it. Limp. Loose. Lax. Yeah, it might be a while.

  His hands clasped on her ankles. She jumped, but didn’t get far. He was as stealthy as he was silent. She didn’t have time to stay startled. With a fast tug, Colby slid her to the edge, dropping her feet to the floor. His eyes flared, dark and aroused, a hard line set to his jaw. That, she didn’t expect. Nor did she expect to see him hard for her again.

  “Can’t get enough, huh?” And there was the bitch again. She needed to sew her mouth shut because clearly her brain had given up monitoring duty.

  “Christ, woman. Major defensive walls. You’ve gotta work on that.”

  “Says the big badass who leads a secret life.”

  “At least I know what I want, and I’m not afraid of it.” Colby hooked his forearms under hers, dangling her above the carpet. “And I want you. Again.”

  She felt weightless, as if her worries fell off when he lifted her up.

  His hard-on rubbed against her stomach, instantly welling a heat in between her legs. He walked back into the bathroom, put her down, and stepped into the steaming water.

  “Nothing to say, Miss Mia?” His head tilted and gave her a look hotter than the scorching stream behind him. Dark stubble. Dark eyes. Dangerous scar under his eye. A triple threat. But nothing she was scared of.

  Water sprayed around his head, but she was stuck in place. He was a risk. A delicious, enticing risk. But one nonetheless.

  Colby extended his hand from the shower. Rough and calloused, and damn if she didn’t already know how perfect it would feel against her.

  “Come here. I need you next to me.” His voice was an embrace to her fears.

  Where she’d been sarcastic and standoffish, Colby was honest and contemplative. Those weren’t the attributes that she knew of him, yet they made perfect sense. She was losing the emotional battle that he didn’t realize she was waging. Without questioning him again, she stepped into his embrace.

  “That’s my girl. Such a beauty.” He pushed the hair off of her cheeks, tucking it behind her ears.

  The water burned. It was a shade cooler than unbearable, and she pushed into his protective broad chest to escape its sear. His hands trailed from the nape of her neck to cup her bottom, his fingers curling along her backside. She softened into him, lips brushing his chest. He spun them around in one flash move, shielding her from the boiling waterfall, and pressing her against the cold, wet tiles.

  The man was on a mission of seduction, and he was winning. Every cell, every inch of her skin readied to beg for him. Ravenous hunger shredded her mind. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and they pressed into his scratchy chest hair for blistering relief. Her ultra-sensitized body swayed against him for the full effect of his firm physique and heavy cock. She was sore from earlier, but it didn’t stop her most intimate muscles from firing to life again.

  His breath teased her ear. His perspiration washed off, and she caught the taste of it on her lips. Strong arms wrapped around her, enveloping her. He smelled of their climaxes.

  “Christ. I can’t get enough of you.” His words cracked against her neck. His teeth rasped her, shooting sparks down her spine.

  She fingered his cheeks, the rough stubble of the day’s worth of growth abrading her palms. She wanted to explore his chest, his abdomen, but he was pressed so close she couldn’t. Instead, she savored the engorgement rubbing between them. She needed to feel this. To feel him. On her. Inside her. However she could get him.

  Water sprayed the back of his head, and it dripped over her. The faint scent from his hair teased hints of sandalwood and amber. Humidity and ecstasy flooded the shower stall, steaming a hazy fog around them. All she could see, all she could feel, smell, and taste was Colby Winters. And she was lost in it all. Deliriously, completely lost.

  “I’m telling you. That’s all stress. You wanting me like this—” He bit against her neck, and Mia almost couldn’t finish her thought aloud. “It’s adrenaline. Isn’t this how you normally relax after…doing what it is you do?”

  His tongue ran gymnastics down her neck. She tried to ignore it but failed with exceptional flare.

  When he stopped the kiss, he said, “Just when you start to relax, you get all keyed up again. I already told you I don’t get stressed.” Colby tightened his grip on her bottom, massaging his fingers into her skin. “But you’re going to keep psychoanalyzing me. Making your educated guesses about what makes me tick, aren’t you? Go on. Build self-protective walls. Practice your frigid glares. I’ll blow through them. Again.”

  Hiding her quick breaths was a lesson in the unfeasible. She panted against his chest. “But this is how you relax. Right? I’m trying hard not to get lost in the moment.” Her words came out so muted, she wasn’t sure he heard her.

  “No, doll, this,” he slid a testing finger between her legs and teased her, “isn’t normally how I relax. And I’m doing something very wrong if you don’t get lost in the moment. If you’re thinking about anything besides us right now, I’ve got work to do.”

  “I am thinking about us.” She tried not to moan, but his fingers gave her no relief. He was doing everything right. From the curl of his caress to the long-suffering in and out, Colby knew how to make her need him.

  “In the wrong manner. You’re over-thinking this. I can tell. You’re holding onto something, somewhere. Let it go. Unravel, like earlier. Come for me.” His fingers quickened their pace, blazing within her. “But no, Mia. I don’t do this after my ops. I don’t shower with women and ask about their feelings. I’m flying blind here, babe. No idea what I’m doing, but I’m doing it for you.”

  Oh shit. Not what she expected. Not at all.

  She tried to breathe. She was so close. “You know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m not talking about getting you off. Though I’m loving every second of it.”

  “Aw, you make me sound special.”

  “Making you moan is special. I like it.” His finger pushed into her aching pussy. Her muscles tightened around it, her jaw fell open and, like he selected the option from a menu, she moaned on cue. “So come on. You were lost in the moment before. What’s so different now?”

  This needed to be about adrenaline-driven reactions. No feelings. No emotions. Oh, who’s she kidding? This is perfect, whatever the reason.

  Mia lifted one foot and trailed it up the solid muscle of his calf, the scratchy coarse hairs tickling her foot. She widened her stance, allowing him further entry for his erotic assault. Her head rolled against the wall, her cheek turned onto the cool tiles, and she fought the flutter of her eyes. Good God, his fingers did nothing short of the Devil’s dance.

  She wanted to answer his questions and meant to explain herself. To say once in bed was fun and uncomplicated. Twice in his arms was too much. But it came out a secretive growl. Wordless and embarrassing.

  “That was fucking beautiful.” He slid his finger from her opening, then with two fingers, he repeated the same internal stroke. In and out, over and over again. The pad of his thumb encircled her clit. “Moan for me again.”

  He chipped away at her unseen walls, fighting his way into her head.

  “I can’t.” She heard the betraying ache as she struggled to speak.

  “Liar. I made you scream before. I want to hear it again.”

  “Please don’t make me. Please.”

  “Why, baby?”

  “Cause I’m going to get hurt.”

  Dang. It came out before she could stop it. His hand stilled for a heartbeat. No, no. This was why she fought him. He made her more honest than she should be. More than she knew was possible.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Mia.”

  “Of course you will. Unintentionally, but hurt just the same.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “I do.”

  “Then just relax, and let it all go.”

  He raced his thumb against her swollen nub. It was all she cou
ld do to keep from grinding on his fingers. The constant push against her tender flesh, still raw from earlier, sensitized every nerve ending. All her senses fired. Including her mind.

  With every steam-filled breath, her want multiplied. Mia didn’t remember his arm moving round her to support her. Her legs were open, her bottom resting on his forearm. She leaned back against the tiles. She was so close.

  Colby flexed his fingers into her. The press of his palm against her clit challenged her to erupt. She clenched around his fingers. An all-masculine grunt poured from him, its timbre catapulting her closer to explosive orgasm. It revved from her clit, into the far reaches of her limbs. She sucked in the falling water. His name fell from her gasps. She thrashed side to side under the spray, and he kept her firmly in place against the cold wall. Her body jerked, suffering through every last wonderful ripple of her orgasm.

  “Fuck yes, Mia. That’s my girl.”

  His girl. He sounded possessive and greedy. And that was exactly what she needed.

  Colby crushed his lips onto hers, easily forcing her mouth open, and lashed his tongue across hers. As she came down from her high, Mia circled her hands around his shaft and stroked one hand on top of the other.

  He pulled back from kissing her. A this-really-sucks smile played on his face, and she had no idea why. “I’m aching for you again.”

  “What’s stopping you?” She kissed a scar under his collarbone, trailing her tongue along the ridge of his shoulder.

  “I don’t have another condom.”

  Talk about a mix of disappointment and frustration. His voice matched his this-sucks grin.

  Mia tightened her grip on his substantial erection. “Not a perfect solution, but I’m nothing if not inventive.”

  She grabbed the travel size soap and sudsed her hands, raising a do-you-wanna brow.

  He nodded, chin jutting hard. “Hell, yes.”

  Bubbles coated her hands, foaming to her wrists. She ran his length, the small bar of soap still in one hand, before cupping his tight sac. He flexed against her motion and an approving groan broke free. Now that was special.

  The soap bar slipped from her hands, landing on the floor, and spun with the draining water. She traveled her hands to his head, then thumbed his crown with each stroke.

  Colby covered one strong hand around hers and pumped in time with her. His abdominal muscles tightened, and his hard thighs contracted. The already taut skin on his body stretched, gleaming under the water. His toes dug into the tile floor. His bicep flexed as they shared the stroke. His fingers wrapped so tight around her hands on him, she thought it might hurt. But it did nothing more than make him harder.

  It was her turn now. “I want to hear you.”

  He gritted his teeth, an intense look of concentrated enjoyment plastered across his face. “I haven’t exactly been quiet.”

  “Come for me.” Tonight was liberating. He was liberating. She said what she wanted and went after it. Let the sky high walls tumble, and apprehensions vanish. “Right now, Colby. Come for me.”

  A curse escaped his mouth, and his entire body clenched. She massaged him against her wet stomach as he came, pulsing his seed across her belly. His cock jerked and spurted again, hot streams jetting on her. He leaned his head on his forearm above her head, his chest heaving.

  “Mia.” He sucked in a raspy breath.

  They stood there, not moving until the hot water began to cool. Colby turned the shower off and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. He wrapped it around her, moving his hands down her back and sides. She was jelly. If he hadn’t held her upright, she’d have melted into the floor.

  He held her close, maybe sensing her complete fulfillment, and found his own towel. He ran it roughshod over his body, wicking the wet drips off him more than drying himself.

  They hadn’t really bathed, but the hot water more than made her feel clean.

  “You’re unbelievable,” she whispered against his shoulder. “I’ve never come like that before. I’ve never…said what I wanted.”

  “You did in bed earlier tonight.”

  “That was heat of the moment. Here. Now. I was cognizant of it.”

  “You and your therapy words. Honey, you’ve been cognizant of us since we first kissed.” He pushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you.”

  He wanted her. Simple as that.

  “You wore me out.” She smiled at him, a tiny laugh escaping. “I’m exhausted. More than exhausted, really. Are you tired?”

  He caught her eye, evidently proud to have done so. His smile threatened his mulish exterior. “You want to stay here?”

  Mia nodded. “Where else would we go?”

  “We could keep driving, if you wanted us to head home.”

  “I want to sleep next to you, with you, in your arms.” Saying it aloud took her breath away. Bravery was a good fit.

  Colby stilled and didn’t respond.

  Oh no. Maybe it was a very bad fit.

  Mia pinched her eyes closed, embarrassed. Why did she confess her secrets to him? That wasn’t smart. No. It was flat out stupid.

  “Come on, doll.” He dropped his towel on the floor, standing gorgeous and naked in front of her, and he pried hers loose from her talon grip. A chill danced across her skin. “Dry sheets will be so much better than these crappy-assed towels. Let’s warm up under the covers.”

  She took his hand, plodding behind him, dumbstruck. He threw back the comforter on the already rumpled bed, adjusted a few pillows, and lifted her onto the mattress. Before Mia could crawl through the rough fabric to the far side of the bed, his warm body sought and found hers. He pulled her against his arm, flipped another pillow behind his head, and nuzzled against the back of her wet hair.

  “That’s not what I thought you were going to do,” she said.

  “Welcome to the club.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You haven’t done a single thing I’ve expected of you either.”

  “Oh.” Oh? That was all she could say? But her mind was exhausted, and he was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Winters was more than aware of Mia curled into the crook of his arm. More than aware of her melodic breaths and the occasional quiet snore that played wrecking ball to his convoluted thoughts. She was beautiful and enticing, guarded and tortured. Hell if he’d let her use her excuses tonight. Heat of the moment, I don’t think so. He didn’t fall for that bullshit. No, when they’d been in bed, they’d been on fire, and it wasn’t just an adrenaline high. He didn’t know what the fuck it was, but it was more than a fast and furious lay, his typical pump and dump.

  Warmth continued to roll through him even though she had long since closed her eyes. His tongue was thick, and his jaw was clamped together so tight he should have a headache. Heat of the moment? The accusation killed him.

  He had her earlier, in a way he’d never experienced before. Sex, yeah, that was fantastic. But it was iced with a little something more. Something with a flash and bang to it. The hell of it was he wanted more. Like an addiction. And then in the shower… What did he expect going in there with her? He was short a condom, and only by some amazing grace did she give him release. Even now, he craved Mia again. Once wasn’t enough. Twice wasn’t either.

  He should have put them in the car, driving to Virginia. But there wasn’t a chance of kick starting the road trip again if she wanted to sleep next to him. She was his for the moment, all gathered up in his arms like an innocent angel.

  He smiled, remembering her panic in the bathroom. It took him a stupid second to realize he wanted her fast asleep in his arms. That realization shocked him clear out of his towel. Her adorable face was alarmed, and she tried, in vain, to scurry away from him in bed. It was cute to watch her try but far more fun to ease her worry.

  This was a memory to keep. A memory to store for dark days when he needed hope and belief to survive. He was smart
enough to know once in a lifetime when it smacked him across the face.

  Winters eyed the oversized fuel and food signs passing on the highway. “Coffee?”

  “No.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Nope.”

  Daybreak turned into harsh afternoon glare, bearing down at him through the windshield. Hours passed in the trashed-up car, and other than a sideways glance, Mia had all but disconnected herself from him like he was a plague-infected pariah. He was ready to pop red smoke and call in for an extraction team. What the fuck did I do wrong?

  She was distracted, disengaged, and detached. More focused on the passing scenery and overhead road signs than any amicable gesture he lobbed at her. He could’ve sung show tunes a cappella, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

  Shit. He didn’t know the first thing about the morning after. And, as by evidence of her withdrawal from him, he didn’t always ace everything he tried. So much for thinking he was a stud.

  What did it matter if the woman didn’t live for his every thought? So what if she wasn’t hungry? For food or for him. What did he even want from her anyway? Doe-eyed looks or good morning, let’s-go-again kisses? Well, he got none of those. Just a curt good morning, and a very matter of fact re-dressing in her dirty, torn clothes. He chuckled. She did a hell of a job piecing her shirt back together. If she hadn’t been so formal, teetering around like a proper marm, he might have told her so.

  “Are you going to tell me what I did that was so wrong?” He scrubbed his hand over his face, hating that he even asked.

  “You didn’t do anything.”

  “Yet, here we are. One-syllable answers and the silent treatment. You don’t seem like the type to play games, Mia.” He paused, waiting for any sign of life. “I’m glad to see the glacial attitude has returned.”

  Sarcasm wasn’t helpful, but screw it. He exited the highway. The last chance for fast food would be a passing memory in seconds.

  “I’m not. Look, Colby…never mind. Nothing is wrong. I’m just tired.” She shrugged and dug at her fingernail like her life depended on it.

 

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