What Part of Marine Don't You Understand? (The Challenge Series) Page 7

  “I’m sorry…,” she murmured, reaching for her discarded shirt, but he snatched it and threw it aside then joined her on the bed.

  “Don’t be—I just couldn’t take my eyes off you long enough to respond.” But he planned to rectify that. He crushed his mouth against hers, and she opened to the invasion like a flower soaking up the spring rain. Her skin scorched him until heat danced across his nerves. He made quick work of the bra and panties. The rise and fall of her chest sucked all the oxygen out of his lungs, and he nearly strangled on a moan.

  Rosy nipples, sweet like strawberries, stiffened under his gaze. He kissed his way down to them then indulged in one of his favorite fantasies—sucking one turgid tip between his lips. The moment he grazed the nipple with his teeth, she dug her fingers into his shoulders, the sweet, sharp sting of her nails rocking his insides. His cock stiffened painfully, reminding him he was still fully dressed.

  Unsure who he tormented more as he played with her breasts, he was torn between wanting his clothes off and continuing to tease her sweet flesh. Wanting what came next won out. He slipped away, and she objected with a very audible groan. Laughter bubbled up through his intensity and he grinned at her. “I’m feeling very overdressed….”

  Pulling off his shirt, he toed off his shoes before stripping out of his jeans. She rose up on her elbows and stared at him with hunger, her naked, wanton look a powerful thing. The raw desire in her face demanded action. His erection thumped against his stomach, and he fumbled in the pocket of his jeans for the condom in his wallet.

  Always carry a condom. Always be prepared.

  God bless his training.

  She reached out and stroked him, her attention on his cock and he groaned. The action sent all blood flow south and shut down everything but the most basic thoughts in his brain. Wanting her was a powerful thing, wanting to make this good for her even more. He caught her wrist in a light grip and stopped her caress. Her gaze rose to meet his, a frown wrinkling her brow.

  Oh, she didn’t like that. For some reason, the objection in her all-too-willing expression amused the hell out of him. “You keep doing that and we’re going to be over before we even get started, and that’s not how I want this to end.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes lit up and her smile grew. “Oh.”

  He didn’t let her repeat a third time, tumbling her back on the bed and kissing her soundly before nipping and licking his way down her body. He allowed the indulgence of teasing her nipples before settling between her legs. Spearing his tongue between the seam of her sex, he didn’t hesitate to taste her.

  Divine honey, sticky and sweet.

  Every lick elicited another gasp or soft cry until she writhed and he gripped her hips, pinning her to the bed. Damn she was so responsive. He sucked on her clit until she let out a little scream. Satisfied with the pleasure he delivered, he eased away and looked up.

  She beckoned him with glazed eyes. More than willing to fulfill the slightest request, he sheathed his cock and settled again between her legs. She didn’t act like a virgin or respond like one, but he hesitated, poised at the entrance to her sex. “You okay?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She rubbed her palms across his chest then up over his shoulders. Even the slightest contact of skin on skin sent electric shocks through his system. Primed, he expected to blow any second—and wanted to be inside her when that happened.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He dug his fingers into the bed covers next to her, fighting to maintain the last slender threads of his control. The urge to thrust damn near bowed his spine.

  She hooked her legs around his hips, and arched her back. He slid in an inch and surrendered to the desire to thrust inside of her with one, long stroke. They groaned in unison and fierce laughter burst from his chest. It felt so fucking good to feel her clamping down around him.

  “Don’t stop.” She whispered, the small bit of encouragement before biting down on his earlobe. The light pressure, the encouraging brush of her nails on his ass, and he pulled out slowly before driving his cock home again. Far from put off by his hard thrusts, she encouraged him. Their mouths collided in a hot, wet kiss that stoked the tension gathering in his balls.

  The bed rocked with them, and she rose to meet his every thrust. She let out a soft cry and her legs locked around him. The orgasm stormed through her expression and she screamed. Her convulsions drove his and he came in a rush of pure, blinding pressure, crying out her name.

  Chapter Eight

  He wouldn’t stay the night. She wanted to argue, but something in his eyes when he talked about going to sleep arrested her words. Fear. A genuine concern, tinged with shame, when he murmured he had to leave.

  “It’s okay.” She walked him to the door, holding his hand and leaning on his arm. She was soft and warm all over. Equal parts erotic and sweet, his lovemaking took her breath away. Burying the longing to sleep in his arms, she kissed him softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Lock this door.” He clipped Jethro’s leash on and kissed her again. “Thank you….”

  She smiled and indulged in a quick hug and then he left, closing the door behind him. Turning the lock, she rested against the door and sighed. No matter how much she understood his declining her invitation to stay overnight, his exit stung.

  Get it together, Naomi, it’s not a rejection. But it certainly felt like one. Her body still tingled, pleasantly sore and tight in all the right places. Walking into her bedroom, she inhaled the sweet musk of sex still hovering in the air. She slid onto the bed, pulled the pillow close that he’d lounged on for the little while, and breathed in the hint of his scent. He hadn’t been there long enough to really leave a mark.

  I said I could handle this…. Intellectually, she got it. The PTSD diagnosis sent her back years—to Brent’s homecoming—to the brutal conversations and outbursts of temper. Her tough, fierce, older brother reduced to tears and later, loathing at his own inability to function. Fighting his way through it, he got the help he needed—hell, he was a Congressman now, married and working on having a baby with his wife.

  I can handle this…. But understanding all of that, educating herself, attending support groups for families of returning veterans, and dedicating her time and efforts to the cause didn’t quite cover the current situation. Intellectual knowledge didn’t cut it where her heart was concerned. She wanted to go to sleep in his arms, wanted to wake up with him and not reduce their moment to a slam, bang, good night ma’am.

  Matt didn’t trust himself to sleep next to her. She’d seen it in his eyes and heard it in his voice. Did he suffer from night terrors? Did he lash out in his sleep? Not having the answers to those questions, but suspecting both to be true, didn’t do much to assuage the emotional wound of sex followed by a swift exit.

  Wow…it took me less than thirty minutes to go from afterglow to emotional Fruit Loop. He’s still the same guy. He’s got issues and he’s working on them. I can handle this.

  God, what if she couldn’t? The sobering thought cut through her. What if she couldn’t handle a relationship on his recovery’s terms? One fear after another tumbled in her head, like a cat chasing its tail. Inconceivable and painful, because she wasn’t even sure she wanted to catch the tail.

  Rolling to her side, she stared at the clock. It ticked a little after midnight. Hours and hours until they would see each other in the park.

  I like him…he’s wonderful, but he hasn’t lied to me once about what’s going on with him. Telling me about his PTSD took courage.

  Her phone rang and she eyed it.

  The landline.

  She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “So….” Matt’s voice washed over her and the knot in her gut loosened. “I walked Jethro home and realized I don’t even have your phone number.”

  “Hey.” She sank into the pillows, warmth rushing out to heat the chilled places formed in the few short minutes since they’d said goodbye. Never
a high maintenance, needy girl—she certainly didn’t want to become one.

  “Are you okay?” Worry colored his words.

  “Much better. I was having a silly woman moment.” Biting her lip, she swallowed a rueful laugh.

  “Hmm, be nice to my girl. I like her.”

  He said my and shivers raced over her skin. “She likes you, too.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay—I….”

  “You don’t have to explain.” He really didn’t. “I get it and I-I respect that you recognize your own limitations.” She grimaced at the word. “That didn’t come out right.”

  Soft laughter met her embarrassment. “No, it came out exactly right. It’s what I’ve been working on…recognizing what I can do and when I push myself too hard. Sometimes…sometimes I push and I want more than I am capable of—it would be really, really easy to push with you, Naomi. I want to be there, but I can’t, and I won’t, risk you.”

  His raw vulnerability and utter openness did her in. “I won’t risk you either, Matt. It’s okay.” She snuggled down in bed, hugging the phone to her ear and his pillow to her chest. “But can you do me a favor?”

  “What?” He sounded as relieved as she felt.

  “Can I have one of your shirts?”

  “Sure…can I ask why?”

  “’Cause I like the way you smell.” Heat rushed to her cheeks and she barely managed to whisper the words.

  His soft groan sent tingles of excitement racing through her. “You can have any shirt of mine you want.”

  “Hmm, thank you.” If she couldn’t have him in her bed all night, she could wear his shirt and have his scent. The disquiet in her soul settled.

  “You’re welcome. Now, go to sleep.”

  As if conjured by his words, the yawn cracked her jaw. “Okay….”

  “Don’t hang up.” The firm order wrapped around her like an embrace. “I’ll stay on the line until you’re asleep.”

  “Okay,” she repeated, and he chuckled.

  “Do you know what I hear when you say okay?”

  She yawned again and her eyelids drifted closed, almost too heavy to stay open. “That I love you?” The sleepy question escaped before she could stop it. Her heart squeezed. Too soon?

  “Yeah.” He whispered. “Okay?”

  Biting her lip, she smiled so hard her face hurt. “More than okay.”

  “Good night, Naomi.”

  “Good night, Matt.”

  ***

  Dawn found him waiting early for his appointment with James. He wanted to get in and get out. After sleeping well, he’d woken, wishing Naomi had been within arm’s reach. Leaving her the night before turned out to be harder than he expected—but he wouldn’t subject her to his nightmares or risk injuring her if he lashed out.

  No. Unacceptable.

  “Hey, Matt.” James opened the door. “You’re early.”

  “I can wait.” He didn’t look at the clock. An hour early was more than just being prompt.

  “You can come on in, you’re my first appointment of the day.”

  Jethro trotted ahead of him, seeming even more relaxed than Matt. Despite the niggling doubts and worry nibbling on his insides, he felt good.

  Real good.

  Doc offered him some coffee, and Matt carried a mug over to the sofa and sat. “So, ask me how I’m feeling.” He couldn’t quite keep the grin off his face.

  “I don’t really need to.” James settled in his chair and set his notepad to the side. “What happened?”

  “Naomi.” The simple act of saying her name filled him with a giddiness he hadn’t laid claim to in years. Fresh, new, simple—fantastic—she was perfect.

  “So things are moving forward with you two?”

  “You could say that—and while we’re on the subject, I canceled my 1Night Stand plans—officially. I know I forfeit the deposit, but I don’t care.” Sipping the coffee, he rubbed his foot along Jethro’s side. He sprawled on his back, belly up, tongue lolling—the picture of bliss.

  “Are you rushing this, Matt?” The therapist leaned forward, studying him. Despite the bland expression, concern crinkled the corners of his eyes.

  “No. Maybe. I don’t care.” He’d thought about it a lot after leaving her—struggled with it before falling asleep. Hearing the soft sound of her breathing over the phone soothed him in ways he couldn’t define. He liked her, liked spending time with her, liked listening to her. Already half in love and no matter how terrifying a prospect, it thrilled him, too.

  “That’s a very definitive answer.”

  “Falling in love doesn’t have a definitive answer. Isn’t that what you told me?” They’d had a similar conversation months before, not long after James and Lauren rescued him from an outburst at a Plano bar. The psychologist and the movie star—a chick flick pairing if ever there was one—but they fit each other.

  “No. It doesn’t. But is she aware of your issues?” Ahh, that’s what concerned him. At least in this, Matt could set his mind at ease.

  “Yes. I talked to her about it. Told her about the diagnosis and about being in counseling. I also told her about my plans to go for school.”

  She’d taken both pieces of information so well, he couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t mentioned it sooner. The younger sister of four Marines, she likely had her own experiences to share with him when ready.

  “Good. How did she take it?”

  “She understood.” Met his admission with compassion and acceptance, not pity. He knew the difference, had seen it in different people. PTSD scared people because they didn’t understand it. Not that he was an expert, but he learned and would continue learning. Limited didn’t mean incapable—it meant he needed training and experience and coping mechanisms.

  “Matt, this is a process…I don’t want to discourage you from a relationship that obviously makes you happy, but it’s a process. It’s not something that will happen for you overnight. You’re going to have good days—”

  “And bad days. I get that.” Exhaling, he came to his second bit of news. “I also realized something about Jethro this morning. He’s not a loaner dog, is he?”

  “No.” James offered him a quiet smile. “He is a gift.”

  “Why give me a specially trained dog and not tell me what he really is?” The only puzzle piece he hadn’t fit into place.

  “That’s a fair question. Your anger issues made it hard to tell you what help you required. Part of healing is recognizing what you need so you can ask for it first.” The answer made a certain amount of sense.

  “But why now?” He rubbed his chin. “I’ve been here on and off for two years.”

  “What did you say to me when you came back this time?” James challenged.

  They’d had so many conversations over the last few months, much less in the last few weeks.

  “Think about it and ask me again when you remember. For now, Jethro is yours. I think you two are great together.”

  Matt laughed. “It’s funny, you have more of a comment for the dog than the girl. Not sure what that says to me?”

  “Stay honest with yourself, stay honest with her, and you have nothing but my best wishes.”

  “Fair enough.” He nodded. “Thanks, Doc. Time for the brutal memory portion of our day?”

  “No.” James shook his head. “I think today we talk about how it felt to tell her….”

  ***

  Naomi left her guitar at the apartment, confirmed her flights, and packed her overnight bag. Choosing shorts and a tank top, she actually took time with her hair and added a touch of lip gloss. She’d already sent the new music sheets to Phil. The rest of the day stretched out in front of her and she planned to make the most of it with Matt.

  He appeared around the corner of the path as if conjured by her thoughts. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face or her heart from playing Ping-Pong with her ribs. “Good morning.”

  The answering smile on his face lightened his sober expression. He c
losed the distance between them and wrapped her up in a fierce bear hug. Inhaling his scent, she sighed and returned the squeeze. “I missed you.” The confession came easily.

  Matt chuckled. “I missed you, too.” Jethro gave them a moment before butting his head between them and demanding his share of the attention. Pressing a fleeting kiss to Matt’s lips, she slipped away to crouch and give the dog a good scratch.

  “Where’s your guitar?” The frown in his words echoed to her.

  “I left it at the apartment—and yes, I locked the door.” She tugged the key out from beneath her top where it hung with four dog tags—one for each of her brothers.

  Matt helped her up. Tracing his fingers down the chain, he gave her an inquiring look. At her nod, he turned the tags over and read them.

  “They’re my brothers’. Each time they deploy, they give me one of their dog tags to keep for them. Brent’s home now, but he said I could keep his. We’re kind of scattered all around the world, but they’re always with me.” Sappy sentimentality, but she treasured the tags. She hadn’t worn them since arriving at Mike’s Place, but that morning she’d wanted to feel her brothers close.

  “They’re not going to like you seeing me, are they?” Honesty hollowed the teasing from the question.

  “Well, Charlie knows that I like you.” She looped her arm through his. Touching him came naturally, and for a physically affectionate person, maintaining her distance for the last several days had proven harder than she imagined. Happily, she didn’t have to anymore. “I get to talk to him every few weeks…so I thought breaking the news about a potential boyfriend when he was a few thousand miles away seemed a good plan.”

  “Very sassy of you.”

  “I try. Matt, they’re going to love you. They’re pains, and will probably tell you how obnoxious I am and that they’ll break your legs if you break my heart, but they really do mean well.”

  His snort of laughter relaxed her. Her brothers would love him. She thought Brent in particular would like him, but they would cross that demilitarized zone when they came to it.