Badass: Deadly Target (Complete): Military Romantic Suspense by Leslie Johnson, Elle Dawson Page B
Authors: Leslie Johnson, Elle Dawson
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Attempting to take siege of one another. Holding the other hostage, then releasing to pet and stroke.
She moves until she’s straddling me, her fingers inching under my shirt, touching skin, traveling up to my chest. She whimpers as I jerk her to me, my cock pressing into her sex through our clothes. I want her. Need her. Need to sink into her warmth and forget everything that’s happened the past two hours.
Licking into her mouth, I swear to myself this is the last time, even as I pull her harder against me and nibble on her bottom lip. Lifting my hips, I grind into her, feeling her heat, loving it when she tilts her hips forward and grinds back, needing me too.
Just one more.
Easing my fingertips inside her sweater, I’ll just allow myself another touch. Her skin is hot and damp as my palm skates up her back. She’s so soft and smooth. Her fingers moving down my abs and into the waistband of my pants.
Christ, if she touches me, I’ll probably come all over myself. It’s been so long, so damn long since I’ve been with a woman. Touched and been touched. Gave and received. I’ve missed this so much.
Our mouths separate when her tongue traces a line down my jaw, coming up to lick into my ear. I shiver, just as I shivered every time Laura did that same thing. Grief tugs at my heart as I think of her. Remember her. Long for her. My wife. My dead wife. The wife I made a promise to. A promise I couldn’t fulfill until…
Mia is up and off me, jerking away with the opening of the kitchen door. She steps into the tub of water, slides and falls backwards, her arms pin wheeling at her sides. Reaching for her, I catch the front of her sweater along with a handful of breast. Her eyes grow wide, her face an immediate mortified red as Dave steps inside, takes in the situation with one glance and turns around with a mumbled, “I’ll just get the rest of the stuff.”
Yanking her back to me, I curse when she lands in my lap, this time with a knee in my dick. But she’s turned into the Tasmanian devil, spinning around, leaping off my lap, half sliding, half hopping to the doorway. She grabs hold of it with both hands, panting heavily.
When I catch my fucking breath, I stand, nearly do a split in the water, but hold on to the table until my balance is back.
“Safe to come in?” Dave shouts, but barges through the door before either of us can say a word. He gives me a “what the hell, man” look before his eyes slide to where Mia is standing. Correction, where she had been standing until a second before.
I hold up a hand, silently begging him not to ask me questions and run after Mia. The bathroom door slams shut before I can make it there. I knock and try the doorknob at the same time. Locked. I knock again. “Mia, it’s okay. Open up. We need to talk.”
Holy damn.
Did I just tell a woman we need to talk? What in the hell is wrong with me?
“Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
I consider her request and it’s actually smart. Looking down at my pants, I need a few minutes myself.
“Hey, lover boy.” I slide a look toward Dave, who’s standing in the kitchen doorway, two bags in his hands. His eyebrow is still raised nearly to his hairline, but a grin is twitching the sides of his mouth. “Give her these bags, tell her to take a shower and I’ll bandage her up when she gets out.” He tosses them to me. “I picked up some pizza while I was out too, if you’re hungry.”
Knocking on the door again, I relay the message and am rewarded with the door opening just enough for her hand to stick through. I hang the handles on her fingers and she snatches it back, the turn of the lock immediately following the slam.
Adjusting myself, I head back to the kitchen to face the hell I know Dave will give me. I’m less than one foot in the small room before it starts. “Man, you gonna sign your death warrant with your damn dick?”
“Probably,” I mutter and reach for a roll of paper towels to clean the water
She moves until she’s straddling me, her fingers inching under my shirt, touching skin, traveling up to my chest. She whimpers as I jerk her to me, my cock pressing into her sex through our clothes. I want her. Need her. Need to sink into her warmth and forget everything that’s happened the past two hours.
Licking into her mouth, I swear to myself this is the last time, even as I pull her harder against me and nibble on her bottom lip. Lifting my hips, I grind into her, feeling her heat, loving it when she tilts her hips forward and grinds back, needing me too.
Just one more.
Easing my fingertips inside her sweater, I’ll just allow myself another touch. Her skin is hot and damp as my palm skates up her back. She’s so soft and smooth. Her fingers moving down my abs and into the waistband of my pants.
Christ, if she touches me, I’ll probably come all over myself. It’s been so long, so damn long since I’ve been with a woman. Touched and been touched. Gave and received. I’ve missed this so much.
Our mouths separate when her tongue traces a line down my jaw, coming up to lick into my ear. I shiver, just as I shivered every time Laura did that same thing. Grief tugs at my heart as I think of her. Remember her. Long for her. My wife. My dead wife. The wife I made a promise to. A promise I couldn’t fulfill until…
Mia is up and off me, jerking away with the opening of the kitchen door. She steps into the tub of water, slides and falls backwards, her arms pin wheeling at her sides. Reaching for her, I catch the front of her sweater along with a handful of breast. Her eyes grow wide, her face an immediate mortified red as Dave steps inside, takes in the situation with one glance and turns around with a mumbled, “I’ll just get the rest of the stuff.”
Yanking her back to me, I curse when she lands in my lap, this time with a knee in my dick. But she’s turned into the Tasmanian devil, spinning around, leaping off my lap, half sliding, half hopping to the doorway. She grabs hold of it with both hands, panting heavily.
When I catch my fucking breath, I stand, nearly do a split in the water, but hold on to the table until my balance is back.
“Safe to come in?” Dave shouts, but barges through the door before either of us can say a word. He gives me a “what the hell, man” look before his eyes slide to where Mia is standing. Correction, where she had been standing until a second before.
I hold up a hand, silently begging him not to ask me questions and run after Mia. The bathroom door slams shut before I can make it there. I knock and try the doorknob at the same time. Locked. I knock again. “Mia, it’s okay. Open up. We need to talk.”
Holy damn.
Did I just tell a woman we need to talk? What in the hell is wrong with me?
“Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
I consider her request and it’s actually smart. Looking down at my pants, I need a few minutes myself.
“Hey, lover boy.” I slide a look toward Dave, who’s standing in the kitchen doorway, two bags in his hands. His eyebrow is still raised nearly to his hairline, but a grin is twitching the sides of his mouth. “Give her these bags, tell her to take a shower and I’ll bandage her up when she gets out.” He tosses them to me. “I picked up some pizza while I was out too, if you’re hungry.”
Knocking on the door again, I relay the message and am rewarded with the door opening just enough for her hand to stick through. I hang the handles on her fingers and she snatches it back, the turn of the lock immediately following the slam.
Adjusting myself, I head back to the kitchen to face the hell I know Dave will give me. I’m less than one foot in the small room before it starts. “Man, you gonna sign your death warrant with your damn dick?”
“Probably,” I mutter and reach for a roll of paper towels to clean the water
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