Ryan stared at Sarah in wonder as she pulled her hair free from the bun and wavy, honeyed strands fell past her shoulders.  She smelled like the ocean and sunshine, and he wanted to devour every square inch of her.  To kiss and lick and graze his teeth over her skin until she melted into a puddle beneath him.

All thoughts of pulling her into his arms and crashing into bed, fast asleep, had fallen to the wayside after he’d tugged her into his lap at the beach.

Holy hell.

Her denim clad legs straddling him had been one of the sexiest fucking things ever.  He swore he could feel the heat of her core even through her jeans.  His erection had grown painfully uncomfortable as Sarah had squirmed while he’d teased her, holding her hands behind her back.

And hell if she hadn’t loved the way he’d played with her.  Her eyes had lit up and she’d squealed in delight as he’d thoroughly enjoyed himself.  Holding her slender wrists in his strong grip.  Preventing her from moving anywhere as she’d straddled him. 

She was so damn small compared to him, so easy to hold back.  He’d barely done a thing and had held her to him, just where he wanted her.  It had taken everything in him not to duck down and kiss those pink lips at that very moment, but he needed her alone.

“Do you always pick up women at the beach and bring them back to your place?” Sarah asked, her hazel eyes gleaming with humor.

“Not once,” he said, stepping closer.  “Luckily I’ve known you for a year though, so I don’t feel quite so guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Every damn minute you’re around me you drive me crazy.  I’ve lost track of the number of times I wanted to drag you home with me.  Kiss you for hours.  Make you scream out my name.”

“Well, aren’t you cocky,” Sarah said, slowly walking toward him.  Her hips swayed back and forth, and her long, honey brown waves curled enticingly near her breasts.  That thin tank top she had on did little to conceal her, and in the cool interior of his home, he could see the outline of her nipples through the fabric.

Did she have any goddamn idea how sexy she was?

“I like your hair like that,” he said roughly.

She toyed with a curl.  “Is that all you like?”

“No fucking way,” he muttered, stepping closer.

And then his hands were in her hair, running through the softness.  She gasped as he tilted her head back, taking control, and finally kissed her, after a year of trying to avoid that very thing.

Her soft, pink mouth yielded beneath him, and he gently thrust his tongue inside, teasing and tasting her.  She whimpered softly, and he grew hard imagining tasting her everywhere.

He moved one hand to the small of her back as their tongues twined together and slowly backed them up, gently pushing them down onto his bed as he continued to kiss her.

Her soft breasts pushed against his chest as he hovered over her, and his erection pressed against her stomach.  She gasped and wiggled beneath him, and he began kissing his way down her neck.  Enjoying the sounds of pleasure she made.  She tasted sweet, with a hint of saltiness from the ocean air.  Her light floral scent was intoxicating, and he knew if he spent forever kissing her entire body, it would never be long enough.

His hands found the bottom of her tank top, and he slowly pushed it up, kissing her flat stomach along the way.  Her lace bra concealed nothing from him, and he could see her dusky nipples through the light pink lace.  The contrast was sexy as hell, and he bent lower and tongued her nipple through the fabric.  She squirmed and gasped beneath him, holding his head to her breast in a clear indication she wanted more.

“Ryan,” she whimpered.  “Please.”

He licked her nipple once more through the lace, watching as it pebbled beneath his tongue.  So fucking sweet.  His hand palmed her other breast, caressing her lightly as she let out soft sighs of pleasure.

“What do you need, Sweetheart?”

“More,” she gasped.  “I need more.”

Lust surged through his veins, and his cock became uncomfortably hard.  Hearing Sarah plead with him sent his adrenaline spiking and libido rising.  He wanted to pleasure her for hours, explore her entire body, and make her feel so good she’d be begging him for more.  She’d teased him mercilessly for months, taunting him every chance she got.

Now he wanted control over her body and pleasure.

“I need this off,” he murmured, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her tight jeans.

She gasped at his touch, and he momentarily paused, looking into her lust-filled eyes.

“Why are you stopping?”

“Just making sure you’re okay,” he said in a low voice, expertly undoing the button of her jeans and sliding down the zipper.  She had on floral cotton panties, held together with skimpy little strings, similar to the ones she’d worn at the beach.  They might not have been satin or lace but somehow were still one of the sexiest pairs of panties he’d ever seen.  The front of them was a perfect little “v” covering her mound, and he wanted them off.  Immediately.

Sarah reached down to help him slide down her skinny jeans, lifting her hips as Ryan stood and peeled her jeans all the way off.

“Hell, how do you get those things on?” he asked in disbelief.  She was slender herself, but those things seemed to be painted on.

“Are you complaining?”

“Hell no.  I’m going to dream of you straddling me on the beach in those tight jeans.”

“Come here,” she demanded, holding her hands out to him.

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, grabbing her hands and pining them to the bed as he leaned over her.  She squealed with delight, and he kissed her deeply as he ground his pelvis against hers.  He was still in his cargo pants and tee shirt, and Sarah was lying on his bed nearly naked.  She was the most beautiful damn thing he’d ever fucking seen.

Her hips bucked lightly beneath him as he rested in the cradle of her thighs, and unable to resist, he ground himself deeper against her core.

She gasped aloud, arching up toward him again.

“Are you wet for me?” he asked huskily, clasping both her wrists in one hand and lifting them above her head.  She whimpered and squirmed on the bed, and he felt himself growing even harder. He shifted his weight slightly, widening her legs with one of his, and slipped his hand into the top of her panties.  His large hand splayed across her flat stomach as his fingers edged beneath the cotton, and with her body spread out beneath him, he wanted to roar with approval.  Growl out, “Mine!” caveman style and beat his chest at finally having his woman here.  In his house.  On his bed.

“Ryan,” she whimpered, as he paused, his fingers barely beneath that tiny triangle of fabric. “Please!”

He slid his hand further into her panties, cupping her mound, and feeling her heat.  He lazily ran his fingers through her soft curls and traced up and down her seam, watching her reaction to his touch.  Her cheeks began to flush as her breathing became shallow, and he tightened his grip on her wrists, careful not to hurt her, and slowly ran his fingers through her swollen folds.

“Fuck, you are wet,” he said.

He caressed her intimately as he ducked and kissed her, swallowing her cries with his mouth.

She was so soft and silken, and he was dying to thrust his cock deep inside her.  To feel her walls clenching down around his aching shaft.  But he needed her pleasure first.  Needed to hear her crying out his name as he pinned her to his bed and made her scream her release.  Needed to make her come on his hand and his mouth before he even thought about bringing her to orgasm on his cock.

His fingers slid upward, through her drenched folds, until he circled the tiny nub of her clit.  She gasped, and he kissed her deeper, driving her wild as he sought her pleasure. 

He circled her tiny bud again, enjoying all the gasps and tiny sounds she made.  She writhed on his bed, completely at his mercy.  Without giving it a second thought, he suddenly needed all of her, and ripped her panties right off.

She gasped in shock, and he stopped kissing her for only a moment to growl that he’d buy her a whole damn store full.  He found her molten center and slowly slid one finger in, groaning as he felt her walls clench around him.  She was so fucking tight.  Sinking his cock deep inside her velvety walls later would be absolute fucking heaven.

He added a second finger, stretching her inner walls as he slowly pumped them in and out, and swallowed her cries as she mewled against him.  He thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers.  She bucked up and off the bed, thrusting her breasts into the air, and he felt her inner walls beginning to tighten.

Holy hell she was beautiful.  Her face flushed, her nipples erect against the lace of her bra.  Her hands clenched tightly in fists above her head.  He ducked lower and sucked one nipple into his mouth as he slowly ran his thumb over her clit and she moaned loudly, trembling at his touch. Pumping his fingers faster into her molten core, she arched off the bed, crying out in sheer pleasure, and as he swirled his thumb over her clit and thrust his fingers in and out of her tight channel, she detonated.

Sarah screamed and writhed on the bed as her inner walls clamped down around him, and male pride surged through his chest as he watched her explode.  She cried out again and again as he drew out her orgasm, loving watching her come completely undone at his touch.

He’d wanted to make her plead and beg him for her release, but it was too fucking hard to resist touching her.  Pleasuring her.  Giving her everything.

She gasped as she slowly came back down to Earth, her body completely sated.  Her hazel eyes met his, her body going completely limp on his bed as he softly kissed her once more.

“Sleep,” he commanded.  “You’ve had a long day.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me, woman,” he growled, laughing as she playfully swatted at him.  “I’ll make love to you later.  Much later.  After you recover from that Earth-shattering orgasm I gave you.”

He grinned wickedly but stopped any further protest with another searing kiss.

He pulled her into his arms, enjoying the feel of her warm body nestled against his.  Hell, he still hadn’t even undressed, but it had been a long twenty-four hours, and he had a beautiful woman in his arms.  In his bed.

She yawned quietly, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair.

He’d been chasing her without even realizing it for an entire year.  He could wait another hour, another day to make love to her.

He could drive to Norfolk this weekend.

As long as she was secure in his arms at the moment, sated by his touch, things were pretty fucking spectacular.

***

Sarah awoke with a start hours later, alone in a strange bed.  The dim sunlight was peeking in through the slatted blinds, and for a moment, she didn’t know if it was evening or morning.  She sleepily sat up, the navy blue sheets falling down into a rumpled pile around her, her eyes scanning the room.

Ryan’s room.

Clothes folded neatly were stacked in a pile atop his dresser.  A closed duffle bag sat on the floor.  There were no knick-knacks or magazines scattered about, no dust on the furniture or even a speck of dirt anywhere.  The entire room was as neat and orderly as Ryan.

But where was he?

Her eyes fell to her own clothing, neatly folded on top of a wooden dresser.  Good God. Had he picked up her things after the floor?  She was wearing her pale pink lace bra and not anything else.

Holy crap.

Ryan had given her the most incredible orgasm of her life, his large body hovering over hers, one hand pinning her wrists in place as the other thrust in and out of her pussy.  He’d done exactly as he’d pleased with her, commanding her body and sending her to amazing new heights.

She’d never thought she’d be into giving a man complete and utter control over her body, but somehow with Ryan it had felt playful and sexy as hell.  He’d jokingly pinned her hands to the bed at first, his muscular frame above hers, but when he’d clasped her wrists above her head, rendering her immobile, she’d freaking loved every second.

Loved the way he’d controlled the situation and wrung every last ounce of pleasure from her body.  Loved the way she’d been forced to surrender to his touch—to not think about anything and simply feel.

She swore she could still feel his fingers wrapped around her wrists, which was insane—he’d been in control but gentle enough not to hurt her.  The swollen folds of her sex were still slick with her arousal—and good God.  If he’d made her come that hard with his hand, what would sex with a man like Ryan be like?

She hadn’t even gotten to see Ryan naked yet, and holy crap, she was dying to strip off his shirt, admire all those big muscles, and unwrap that delicious package.  She’d felt his huge erection against her and couldn’t wait to tease him right back, making him beg and groan as she brought him to release. 

As she surrendered to him again as he took her in his bed.

She was getting aroused again just from the memory of it all, and then instantly felt guilty.

Hours had passed since she’d left the beach, and she hadn’t spoken once to Rebecca.  Or worried about her own brother.  She’d been too wrapped up in Ryan to even think of anything else.

She rose from his bed, leaving the sheets tousled, and grabbed one of his PT shirts from the neat pile on the dresser.  He must have recently done laundry or something because everything else in the room was put away.

The shirt was huge on her but fell down past her ass, and after all, he’d ruined her one pair of panties.

Jesus Christ.

The memory of his muscular hands ripping her skimpy cotton panties right off was engrained in her mind forever.  Shit.

“Ryan?” she called out, walking out of his room.

She’d slept longer than she’d meant to, but it had been a surprisingly stressful day.  She needed to find out what was going on with Patrick and drive back to Norfolk, because despite the fact that tons of other things were going to hell all around her, she had work in the morning.

Patients.

Responsibilities.

That had to be news about Patrick by now, right?  It had been nearly a day since he’d been injured.

“Ryan?” she called again, walking down the hall toward his kitchen.

His framed military certificates and diplomas lined the walls, and there was a neatly folded American flag behind glass.  The living room was empty, she’d already checked the bathroom, and unless he’d gone out to his garage, he wasn’t here.

She scanned the spotless kitchen, not seeing a note left anywhere, so she walked back to his bedroom, her eyes roaming around the room to see if she’d missed something.

He wouldn’t just leave, right?

She began to feel uncomfortable, alone in Ryan’s house wearing nothing but his tee shirt, so she pulled her own shirt on, grumbling to herself as she stuffed her torn panties into her hobo bag.  Did she go commando under her jeans or steal a pair of his boxers?  Ha.

Deciding on the former, she pulled on her skinny jeans.  She checked her cell and saw a missed call from Rebecca and text message from Morgan.

“Hey Rebecca.  I’m sorry I missed you earlier.  Is there any word on Patrick?”

“He’s not waking up from surgery,” Rebecca said, her voice wavering.

“What?” Sarah asked, her heart dropping.

“Yeah.  They finished the operation but he’s still in recovery.  Has been for hours.  For whatever reason, he hasn’t woken up yet.  I think the other men are already on their way back.  I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I saw something on CNN tonight about the hostage rescue.”

Guilt flooded through Sarah.  She should have turned on the damn news earlier.  Checked her newsfeed on her phone.  Not wandered the beach alone for hours and gone home with Ryan.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

And now she needed to drive back to Norfolk.  This entire day felt like a big blur.  A nightmare she’d wake up from—sure the part with Ryan kissing and teasing and pleasuring her had been pretty damn spectacular, but she’d forget that in a heartbeat if it meant her brother could’ve been okay.

Damn it.

“All right.  I’ll see what I can find out.  If I can find Ryan.”

“Did you make it back to Norfolk?” Rebecca asked.

“I got sidetracked,” Sarah said, instantly feeling guilty all over again.  “I’ll try to get in touch with Ryan to see if he has any updates on Patrick.  Why don’t I call you when I get home?”

“Okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, sounding weary.

Sarah pulled her keys from her purse and walked to the front door of Ryan’s house, only to remember she’d left her car at the beach.

Good Lord.

He’d left her alone at his house with no freaking way to leave?  She blew out an irritated sigh and texted Morgan.

Can you give me a lift?  I’m near Little Creek.

Morgan texted her back.

What’s going on? Is Patrick okay?

Sarah clenched her jaw.

Long story and no.  Ryan ditched me, and I need a ride.

Morgan’s reply flashed across the screen.

Commander Hottie?  Text me his address.

Sarah glanced round, realizing she didn’t in fact know his damn address.  She knew they were close to base, but she hadn’t paid that close of attention as they’d driven home from the beach earlier.  She’d been far too distracted by Ryan hauling her onto his lap as they’d sat near the water.  By his scent and sheer maleness filling the SUV as he drove them home. 

Those broad shoulders, corded forearms, and muscular hands was all that had been in her line of vision.  Not her surroundings.  Not anything.  Just Ryan.

For all the times she’d claimed he was too military straight for her, she secretly loved his power and strength.  His need to control things in the bedroom.  To bring her to pleasure.

He seemed to get a thrill out of commanding her body, and hell—if that was the way she responded to his touch, she was 1,000% for it herself.

Or had been, until he’d up and left her.

Morgan pulled up thirty minutes later, and although Sarah had finally tried calling Ryan, she still didn’t know a damn thing.  He wasn’t picking up his cell, she didn’t know another number to try.

Whatever.

She had too much to worry about at the moment to wonder why he’d disappeared.  She assumed it was some military thing, because hello, he’d up and left on Saturday as well.

It’s not like she could storm Little Creek looking for the man.

“Tell me what happened,” Morgan said as she pulled up.

“It’s a freaking long story,” Sarah said, climbing into her best friend’s car.

“I’d say so.  What are you even doing here?  You just drove back to Norfolk the other night.  Oh my God, did you leave my place on Sunday and head straight to Commander Hottie’s?”

“What?” Sarah asked, looking at her in disbelief.  “Of course not!  I went home and went to work Monday.  Then Rebecca needed me to watch the kids on Monday night because Patrick and the other men were gone and her friend was in labor.  So I drove back to Virginia Beach.  Then when I was sound asleep on the sofa—in my underwear, I might add—Ryan showed up.”

“Holy crap.  He came looking for you?”

“In my dreams.  I mean, no, I don’t wish that,” Sarah said, backtracking.

“Sure, sister.  Well, go on, don’t leave me hanging.  You’re at his house now, so clearly there are plenty of juicy details you’re leaving out.”  She turned left and headed onto the main drag of Virginia Beach.  “Where’s your car?”

“Oh.  32nd street.  Or maybe 23rd,” Sarah said with a shrug.

“Gotcha.  At least we have a range,” Morgan said, laughing.  “Anyway, spill.  He shows up in the middle of the night….”

“He came over to tell Rebecca about Patrick.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.  I don’t know much more than when I texted you earlier.  Rebecca said he still hasn’t woken up, but I’m not even sure what that means.  He had surgery, so he could just be coming out of anesthesia.  And they just flew out a couple days ago.  I mean I don’t even know for sure where they deployed to, because they can’t tell us.  But throw in jet lag, the adrenaline from whatever mission they were on, stress…I don’t know.  I’d probably want to sleep, too,” she said, trying to lighten the seriousness of the situation.

“Doesn’t Ryan know how he is?” Morgan asked, coming to a stop at a red light.  “He’s their CO.  If anyone can get an update on his condition, it should be him.”

“Oh, I parked right over there,” Sarah said, pointing across the intersection.  “The garage near that tall hotel.”

“All right.  I’ll drop you off over there.”

“And to answer your question,” Sarah continued, “I don’t think he knows much more than us.  Patrick was airlifted to some hospital in Germany.”

“Wow.  So you have no idea when he’ll be sent home?”

“No.  I mean, I don’t even know how severe his injuries are.  Ryan said he had shrapnel wounds, but that could mean different things.  Some shrapnel wounds?  A lot?  I just have no clue.”

Morgan pulled up to the curb, turning on her hazard lights.  “Do you want to grab dinner?  I know you need to head back, but—”

“No,” Sarah said.  “I should head out.  It’s been long couple of days.”

“Hey! You still never told me why I was picking you up at Commander Hottie’s house.”

Sarah blew out a sigh.  “I’ll fill you in later.  The bigger question is why did he leave me alone in his bed?”

“His bed, huh?” Morgan asked, raising her eyebrows.  “This must be some good story.”

Sarah laughed, recalling her afternoon with Ryan.  Yeah, things had been great until he’d pulled a disappearing act.  And she’d remembered the reason he’d shown up at the door in the first place.  Patrick was wounded.  The op somehow went wrong.  She had a zillion things to worry about that, and Ryan shouldn’t even be on that list of problems.  “I’ll fill you in later, okay?”

“All right. And let me know when you find out anything more about Patrick. Bye!” Morgan called out as Sarah shut the door.

Walking to the parking garage, she spotted her mini cruiser parked near the wall, just where she’d left it hours and hours ago.  Good Lord, she’d been here all day long.  What did they charge for a day’s worth of parking, anyway?

She walked over and unlocked the doors, letting out a deep breath as she sank into the driver’s seat.  Despite having slept a few hours, she was exhausted.  Emotionally drained.  She needed to go home and just crawl into her own bed.  Forget about Ryan for a couple of hours.  Worry about her brother’s injuries in the morning.

She wanted to curl up and pretend all of it was nothing but a bad dream.