Chapter Three
Avery stood in the middle of the terminal, wearing an oversize trench coat. Underneath, there was nothing but an American-flag-style string bikini wrapped around her frame. It was beyond freezing in the air-conditioned hall, and she pulled the coat tighter together. In her hands, she held a sign that read:
captain morris, report for booty
She could hardly wait to see Holden’s face. And she wasn’t disappointed.
Holden’s sandy hair was short, still shorn in its typical military cut, but the rest of him was different, too. This tour had made him even leaner than she remembered, and beneath his Bruce Springsteen T-shirt, she could just make out the cut of his abs, the fine chiseled detail of his chest. It was enough to make her want to lick her lips and sigh.
Apparently, the feeling was mutual, because he’d stopped dead in his tracks, swallowed hard, and stalked toward her, his dark eyes gleaming with something between hunger and longing. He pulled her to him for a deep kiss.
“Where did you park?” His voice was deeper than she’d remembered. Huskier, too.
“The car garage,” she said.
And they were off. He grabbed her hand without another word, dragging her along behind. They moved so quickly that she counted her lucky stars for all her practice running in stilettos. Silently, she thanked her sorority sisters for teaching her the important things in life.
“I can hardly wait to see what you’ve got on underneath that coat. You look great. Did I mention that?” He was practically pulling her arm out of its socket as he led her through the dark, dingy parking garage, his backpack still slung over one arm.
“Not yet.”
“Well, you do.” Finally, he halted as she stopped in front of a red Honda Civic. “Jesus, this car is tiny.”
He dropped his backpack in the front seat, and then opened the door for her. She scuttled into the back with him clambering after her, as if he was afraid she would escape. Slamming the door behind him, he began undressing, tossing his cap and coat on the front seats of the car.
“It’s a shame for you to do something like that.”
“What’s that?” His brows knit together, somehow making his jawline look even stronger. She made a mental note to confuse him more often.
“Well.” She bent toward him and unzipped his fly. “I love a man in uniform.”
“I know.”
“Is that why you’re saluting me?” She pulled down his pants to reveal his enormous length.
Without waiting for him to respond, she wrapped her mouth around him, swirling her tongue over his tip as he leaned back, slamming his broad, muscled back against the window.
He groaned, gripping her shoulders, and ripping the coat off of her. She plunged farther down, taking him deep into her throat. Distracted as she was, she couldn’t help but stare at his body as she went. Whenever he came to visit, he was even hotter than the time before.
His abs were contoured, the V that acted as a neon sign to the grand prize he was packing in his pants was more defined. Even his buzz cut seemed to complement his angular features better than ever.
Taking off his clothes was like a never-ending Cracker Jack prize. It got better every time she opened the box.
“You feel so damn good,” he rasped, and she cupped the inside of his thighs, kneading his flesh with her palms. Gently, she flicked her tongue around his base before raising it to tease his head again.
He clutched at her hair, weaving his fingers into her locks, loosening and tightening his grip as she traveled up and down his member.
He growled low in his throat and it spurred her on, working his length faster and faster until he quaked beneath her touch. That was the sexiest thing, when he made that noise like he needed to have her that instant. No sound in the world could compare.
“Oh, I’ve missed you.” He reached behind her neck and pulled at her bikini string. The cool air pricked at her warm skin as her breasts tumbled out, and he fondled the swell of her chest before pinching her stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
She worked him quicker still, but he pushed her back and her lips slid from him, revealing his hard cock. The space between her thighs rushed with need, and she squeezed them together, hoping to quell the ache.
“I’ve missed this.” She leaned toward him again, nibbling the inside of his thighs, but he grasped her shoulders and guided her until her back connected with the passenger-side door. His fingers trailed down her torso, making quick work of the tiny strings on her bikini bottoms.
When he reached her knees, he pushed them apart with a command that made her heart skip, revealing the wet space between her thighs practically begging him to fulfill her want.
She was entirely exposed, and she couldn’t have cared less.
He stooped low, his breath hot against her, but refused to meet her skin.
“Please.” She hated begging, but she couldn’t help herself.
She needed him.
With a mischievous grin, he licked from her belly button to her clit and back again. She convulsed at his touch, and he steadied her with his forceful palms, pushing her thighs wider as his tongue traced her folds, plunged deeper, entered her, and then retreated to suck at her tight bud again.
She moaned, unable to hold back, and he hummed against her, the curve of his smile appearing slightly above the horizon of her view as he lapped her core.
“Moan again.” It wasn’t a request. The scintillating vibration of his words sent a chill down her spine.
“Oh God,” she cried, and his tongue dipped inside her again, making her walls spasm with need.
She leaned back against the car door, allowing him full view of her breasts, and his pupils dilated as he took her in. His commanding gaze as he pleasured her was enough to make her come all on its own—so hungry, so demanding.
“That’s it, you’re so hot,” he mumbled against her.
“Please,” she breathed.
She wouldn’t need to ask him twice. There was a pause and a tear of foil, then his fingers dug into her hips as he wrenched her body down, and without another word, he thrust inside her.
She gasped as his hard length filled her. It had been too long, far too long, since they’d last been together.
Nothing compared to the feel of his cock, the way her muscles tensed and shuddered as he took command of her body. She dug her fingernails into the plush upholstery of the car and rocked her hips against his as he took her harder, faster.
“Tight as ever,” he growled, trailing his fingers lower, over her stomach, to focus on her aching clit.
God, he was like a superhero in the bedroom…or the backseat. Whichever. And the sheer sexiness of him made it hard to know where to focus. But a dark, thin trail of hair led her to the place that made looking anywhere else impossible.
She watched him sliding in and out of her, his cock glossy with her wetness, his forearms working as he rubbed against her clit. Her body tightened around him to the point of pain, screaming for release.
“You keep doing that, you’re going to make me come,” he said.
“Good.” She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper, ground herself against him. The heat of his body pressing against her was electric—her nipples, her walls, the sensitive skin of her breasts all quickening to high alert with every movement.
His fingers dug into her hips, and he forced her toward him once, twice, and yes, oh yes, a third time, and every nerve exploded within her, bursting into a power surge. Her toes curled around the lock button of the car, her legs squeezed him in closer, and she came in waves, each pulse of sensation greater than the last.
“Yes,” she cried, breathless as he joined her in release, working her faster and harder. He closed his eyes as he came in desperate spurts. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, their ragged breathing falling into rhythm with each other.
“Welcome home.” She brushed a piece of bedraggled hair from her face, willing herself to open her eyes. She almost reached up to brush her fingertips against the grain of his buzzed hair, but before her forearm was halfway through the air, she stopped herself and dropped her hand to the floor again.
Too intimate.
He pushed himself up onto his knees, unsheathing himself, and kissed each of her nipples, forcing her sensitive skin to respond with a shiver of recognition.
“I missed the girls.” He shrugged his clothes back on.
“Probably better to get acquainted with them later.” She rushed to correct the edge of panic that tinted her voice. When had sex with Holden ever seemed so…personal? Still, she pressed on. “We should probably leave before we get caught.”
“What do you mean? We’ve had sex in your car a bunch of times. Besides, I don’t think security comes out here too often. Did you lose your sense of adventure while I was away?”
She gestured to the updated upholstery, the new plastic, the well-vacuumed floor.
“Does this look like my car to you? No Mardi Gras beads, no old clothes, no bags lying around for no apparent reason. I like you, but nothing is important enough to clean out all that.”
He chortled, only to be cut off by his dawning realization.
“So, wait. We just had sex in a complete stranger’s car?”
“Well, not complete. You can see pictures of their family on the dashboard. They look nice enough.”
He bolted out of the backseat with his shirt unbuttoned, his pants still unzipped. The only way he would have moved faster was if his ass had literally been on fire.
It was kind of adorable.
“Jeez, re-lax. We’re fine. We’ve done way worse stuff than this.”
“We have not had sex in a stranger’s car before.”
“Only in a stranger’s house.” She started pulling on her bottoms, though judging by his frantic waving, her pace was too leisurely for his liking.
“When?” He reached for her bikini top, tossed it toward her, and she began tying the sides. Then he helped her into her coat.
“The open house where we pretended to be Russian emigrants.”
“Nobody really owned that house. At least, not then.”
Avery scoffed. “Whatever. You worry too much.” She scooted out of the car and slammed the door behind her.
She didn’t bother putting her high heels back on as she traipsed through the parking lot. After a short distance, she stopped in front of her faded blue pickup truck and tossed the shoes into the back.
“What, do you want to christen every car in the parking lot?” he asked.
She noted the hopeful tone in his voice.
“This is my new car.”
“Since when do you have a new car?”
“My Civic died a few months ago, didn’t think it was worth mentioning. We can definitely give it a go in this one later if you want, though.” She stepped onto the metal step and propelled herself into the driver’s seat. When he’d settled in and closed his own door, she continued, “Bench seats. Made for love on the run.”
“I will strongly consider that,” he said.
There was something in his tone that made the words an inviting sort of threat. An intimate dare. Too intimate.
She glanced toward his hand, inches from her own, and adjusted her grip on the steering wheel.
“Okay. Now that everybody is feeling refreshed, how are things? How’s leave going?” She backed out of the parking space, heading for the open road.
“Fine. I’ll be excited to get back in the line of duty, though.”
Panic seeped into her every time she so much as considered it, but she couldn’t bring herself to dwell on it. So, she got her mind off of their fates the only way she knew how.
“You know, I imagine the blow-up sex dolls are a lot classier when you’re out in the field. They give you those, right? Like, for company?” Stupid jokes.
“What?” He smirked, turning up the corner of his mouth.
Panic was still edging in, so she continued, “You know, like they did in World War II. Don’t they still pass those out? All I’m saying is that face”—she made her eyes wide and formed a large O with her mouth—“could be a real comfort to you.”
“How do you even know about all this stuff?”
She raised her eyebrows at him before turning her attention back to the road. “I’ve been a photographer for a few years now. When you freelance, you see a lot of weird stuff.”
There was a momentary lull before Holden spoke again.
“So, do you still live in the same place, or are you going to park in front of your old complex and see if we can get into the pool before you tell me that it’s now a nuclear waste dumping site?”
“Cute. No, I live in the same place. It just blows now that Myla isn’t in the same complex.” She shrugged. “At least she’s happy with Stone Blanchett or whatever they call him on that soap opera of his.”
“Yeah. It’s weird seeing her on magazines when I go into town. Of all the people to wind up on the news, my money had always been on you.” He treated her to a mischievous grin, and she had half a mind to pull over on the spot and have her wicked way with him. Still, there was something penetrating in his gaze that gave her pause. A knowingness that unsettled her.
“Me? On the news? For what, a Miss America pageant?”
“Arson conviction. Grand theft auto. I had a few theories.”
“That’s for amateurs. I’m like a fine bottle of stolen wine when it comes to law breaking.” She waved him off with a sigh of relief. Back to jokes and insults. This was the way things were supposed to be between them. The way they always had been.
He snorted.
She exhaled before parking in front of her familiar, run-down brick building. “If I wanted judgment, I’d have stayed with Myla.”
In the space it took her to unbuckle and open the door, Holden had already joined her. Apparently stealthy moving was no joke in the Marines. She was about to say as much but was interrupted as he pressed the entire length of his body flush with hers, holding her wrists against the door in a strong, sexy grip. All of his muscles bore down on her, spreading warmth through every fiber of her being.
God, he felt good…
“I think my presence has some added benefits that Myla can’t offer.” The panic, so familiar when he was around, ratcheted up a few more notches.
She broke away and ducked under his arm like an old pro.
Too close.
She had to create some kind of space. Room to breathe. If she didn’t, she might lose her head. And her resolve. And become emotionally involved. “Normally, you’d be right. Unless she’s drunk. Speaking of which, I have a story to tell you.” She winked, trying to distract him from her shaking breath.
Damned if this one week in paradise wasn’t going to be a hell of a lot harder than any she’d shared with Holden before. And she wasn’t exactly sure why.