ineffectually at my chest.
“You’re heavy.”
Rolling to her side, I ranged an arm around her waist and dragged her to me. I locked her against me with my legs wound around hers.
Her fingers moved across my chest, outlining the tattoo of all the guns and helmets. She didn’t say anything about them, but I figured she knew exactly what they meant. Fallen. Never Forgotten.
Grazing over the scar from a deep knife gash on my hip, her fingertips stopped. “What happened here?”
I lay back with my eyes closed. “That was an easy one. A little friendly knife work got out of hand. Slade, the guy I mentioned. Almost as good as me with the blades.”
“This one?” Her warm fingertips located a jagged scar along my rib wall.
“Not so much fun. Shrapnel. Mortars. Hurt like a bitch. Got stuck between my ribs though and didn’t get any farther.” I knocked against my head. “Good thing I’ve got thick bones, huh?”
She skimmed her hand up my shoulder, and her thumb brushed an old puckered wound. “And here?”
“Oh. That’s one of the worst. Thought I was gonna die. Gunshot. Real dangerous.”
V gasped.
I lifted my head and cracked my eyes open. “Real big gun too.” My lips twitched. “My brother . . . and a bb gun when I was twelve. We were playing soldier.”
“Bo!” She landed a punch on my shoulder. “You’re impossible.”
I chuckled until she had to laugh, too, with another muttered, “Impossible man.”
Damn, this felt good. No longer locked inside my head. Relaxed. Comfortable . . .
“Are you planning on getting up today?” V asked.
“What are you talkin’ about? I just got it up twice in the space of thirty minutes.” I weakly glared at her because I just did not give a single fuck. I felt too good to move.
She finally convinced me to rise and shine, mostly because she shook her ass in my face as she disentangled herself from me.
Shower time was way fucking more fun than in the barracks when she was involved.
We sat down over breakfast in my bare bones kitchen. The place was only homey because Veronica was with me, flipping hotcakes on the griddle while I made health shakes. She rolled her eyes when I added wheat germ. I groaned over a forkful of flapjack smothered in maple syrup.
“I know you’re fit, but are you always this healthy?” she asked, taking a small sip of her shake.
I skated my chair back after cleaning my plate. “Fuck no. You missed my answers in the bottom of a bottle phase.”
She rounded the table to sit on my lap. “Was it that bad?”
“It wasn’t good.” I ducked my head.
“Doctor Cartwright says you’re doing well.”
Pulling her deeper into my lap, I relaxed. “He gives you progress reports on me?”
“Not really. Doctor-patient confidentiality. He’s a professional. You can trust him. I just . . .” She stood and started gathering dishes.
I followed her to the sink. Scooping her hair aside, I kissed her neck. “You just what?”
When she turned in my arms the bright red of her hair dipped under my chin. “I could’ve helped you.”
“Don’t you get it, V?” I tugged her closer. “God. I wanted you the first second I saw you like no other woman.” Tipping up her chin, I ran my thumb over her luscious bottom lip. “You think I want to seem weak in front of you?”
“How could I ever think you’re weak?” Her hands roved up my arms, twisting behind my head. “I wanted you to give yourself to me.”
“I have.” With a hungry growl, I settled my lips over hers.
There on the kitchen counter, dirty dishes all around us, I gave myself to her again. Plates scattered. The jug of syrup overturned, dripping onto the floor. Her ass held in my hands, she curled her fingers through the handles of the cupboard beside her head. Her orgasm was loud and wild, mine fierce and fast.
Panting afterward, I held her upright after I set her feet on the floor. “You want more?”
She snorted and her hair hazed across her face. “Ask me
“You’re heavy.”
Rolling to her side, I ranged an arm around her waist and dragged her to me. I locked her against me with my legs wound around hers.
Her fingers moved across my chest, outlining the tattoo of all the guns and helmets. She didn’t say anything about them, but I figured she knew exactly what they meant. Fallen. Never Forgotten.
Grazing over the scar from a deep knife gash on my hip, her fingertips stopped. “What happened here?”
I lay back with my eyes closed. “That was an easy one. A little friendly knife work got out of hand. Slade, the guy I mentioned. Almost as good as me with the blades.”
“This one?” Her warm fingertips located a jagged scar along my rib wall.
“Not so much fun. Shrapnel. Mortars. Hurt like a bitch. Got stuck between my ribs though and didn’t get any farther.” I knocked against my head. “Good thing I’ve got thick bones, huh?”
She skimmed her hand up my shoulder, and her thumb brushed an old puckered wound. “And here?”
“Oh. That’s one of the worst. Thought I was gonna die. Gunshot. Real dangerous.”
V gasped.
I lifted my head and cracked my eyes open. “Real big gun too.” My lips twitched. “My brother . . . and a bb gun when I was twelve. We were playing soldier.”
“Bo!” She landed a punch on my shoulder. “You’re impossible.”
I chuckled until she had to laugh, too, with another muttered, “Impossible man.”
Damn, this felt good. No longer locked inside my head. Relaxed. Comfortable . . .
“Are you planning on getting up today?” V asked.
“What are you talkin’ about? I just got it up twice in the space of thirty minutes.” I weakly glared at her because I just did not give a single fuck. I felt too good to move.
She finally convinced me to rise and shine, mostly because she shook her ass in my face as she disentangled herself from me.
Shower time was way fucking more fun than in the barracks when she was involved.
We sat down over breakfast in my bare bones kitchen. The place was only homey because Veronica was with me, flipping hotcakes on the griddle while I made health shakes. She rolled her eyes when I added wheat germ. I groaned over a forkful of flapjack smothered in maple syrup.
“I know you’re fit, but are you always this healthy?” she asked, taking a small sip of her shake.
I skated my chair back after cleaning my plate. “Fuck no. You missed my answers in the bottom of a bottle phase.”
She rounded the table to sit on my lap. “Was it that bad?”
“It wasn’t good.” I ducked my head.
“Doctor Cartwright says you’re doing well.”
Pulling her deeper into my lap, I relaxed. “He gives you progress reports on me?”
“Not really. Doctor-patient confidentiality. He’s a professional. You can trust him. I just . . .” She stood and started gathering dishes.
I followed her to the sink. Scooping her hair aside, I kissed her neck. “You just what?”
When she turned in my arms the bright red of her hair dipped under my chin. “I could’ve helped you.”
“Don’t you get it, V?” I tugged her closer. “God. I wanted you the first second I saw you like no other woman.” Tipping up her chin, I ran my thumb over her luscious bottom lip. “You think I want to seem weak in front of you?”
“How could I ever think you’re weak?” Her hands roved up my arms, twisting behind my head. “I wanted you to give yourself to me.”
“I have.” With a hungry growl, I settled my lips over hers.
There on the kitchen counter, dirty dishes all around us, I gave myself to her again. Plates scattered. The jug of syrup overturned, dripping onto the floor. Her ass held in my hands, she curled her fingers through the handles of the cupboard beside her head. Her orgasm was loud and wild, mine fierce and fast.
Panting afterward, I held her upright after I set her feet on the floor. “You want more?”
She snorted and her hair hazed across her face. “Ask me
Similar Books
