* * * * *
Pete wasn’t sure where Sarah had gone, but she disappeared before the movie even started. Come to think of it, Trav had disappeared as well. With everyone preoccupied, it was a good time to slip out himself. He leaned over the sofa to whisper in Ariel’s ear he was tired and heading to bed. Thanks to the movie, she didn’t put up a fuss, but he could see the disappointment in her eyes. He’d make it up to her.
He walked toward the bunk he knew Sarah was staying in. His boots didn’t make a sound on the path. Though it wasn’t late, darkness had already swallowed the camp thanks to the short winter days. The quiet of the night was overwhelming. Over a hundred yards from the rec room, isolated from other homes or businesses by woods, he felt well and truly alone. Though there was no light on, he heard faint sounds in the cabin, enough to tell him she was likely still awake.
Pete knocked loudly and waited. Yellow light flooded beneath the crack of the door and more sounds told him she was moving around inside.
Sarah opened the door her hair a little disheveled, a smile tilting her lips.
“Pete. Hey.” The smile morphed into a satisfied grin.
“We need to talk.”
She stared at him a moment, then swung the door wide to allow him in. Inside, one bedside lamp was on, but nothing more. Pete took stock of Sarah, standing there in her baggy sweatpants, long-sleeve t-shirt and thick socks, thanks to the cold. As she closed the door behind him, she walked toward the bed.
“Pete, I think—”
“No. You can talk later. My turn to talk now.” Pete crossed his arms and leaned against the door. He was going to fight like hell to fix every problem he’d created. Then she could have her say.
“I was stuck with a choice between bad and worse when I realized you were the sister Trav’s been looking for for over a year. I knew telling him where you were would screw up whatever chance we had at anything more. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t not say a word. Trav is the closest thing to a brother—family—that I have ever had.” He looked at her steadily. “Can you understand where I’m coming from?”
Sarah nodded. “I was so mad at you for what you did. I was frustrated, and annoyed, and hurt that you went to Trav and never let me know it.” He started to speak but she held up a hand. “No, let me get this out now. I was angry. And I think I earned the right. I’m allowed my feelings. But then I thought about it more. And I see why your loyalty would swing to Trav. Your faithfulness. We’d known each other a week at that point. You’ve known him for ten years, which probably seems longer given what you have gone through together.”
Pete couldn’t speak. It was like she read his mind. She understood the struggle and didn’t blame him for it.
It couldn’t be that easy.
“So where does that leave us?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Sarah said, moving back toward him. “Because if you want to know, that means you care. Right?” She stopped in front of him, only inches separated them.
“I care,” he said hoarsely.
She reached him, tentatively putting a hand on his chest. And that was all it took to snap the last of his composure. He dragged her up on her toes, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down for a bruising kiss.
It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t chaste. It was harsh and brutal and primitive. An animal who’d been separated from his mate too long. She groaned, giving back what he put into the kiss. He used his tongue to thrust inside, to mimic the act his cock was desperate for. Hands on her waist, he whipped her around until her back slammed into the door.
She gasped, breaking the kiss.
Pete stared down at her. “Are you—”
His question was cut off with another assault, this time from Sarah. Her hands skimmed under his shirt, flicking his nipples, drifting down to glide around the waistband of his jeans, to tug on his belt.
“Sarah. Sarah stop,” he managed between pants for breath. “We can’t.”
“Any particular reason?” she asked while taking not-so-gentle bites on his jaw, his neck, his ear.
“A million. But the most important, no condom.”
She leaned back until her head thumped the door. “Aren’t Marines always prepared?”
“Wrong organization.
Semper Fidelis
is us. Always faithful.”
“How appropriate.” The look that crossed over her face was soft, as if the lust had momentarily drained out of her, leaving only emotion. She skittered away to the nearest bedside table and opened the drawer. Then a slow grin spread across her face and she pulled out a condom between two fingers. “Guess I’ll be the prepared one this time.”
Pete took three seconds to debate before the little head won in a landslide. He snatched the foil packet and growled, “You better be ready by the time I’m suited up. Because I won’t hesitate to rip those pants off you.”
Sarah looked triumphant as she shimmied out of her sweatpants and panties while walking back to the door, letting them fall to the floor in a harmless heap around her ankles. She stepped out of one leg, and raised the other high to kick them out of the way. Before she could drop the leg, he caught it under the knee.
“I’m not going to be gentle,” he warned as he used his other hand to slide between her legs. She was slick and she shivered at the contact.
“Never asked you to be,” she said, then moaned as he circled her clit with the pad of one finger. “Use me.”
He took her at her word. Fitting the head of his cock against her wet entrance, he pushed to get the angle right, then thrust hard. The door rattled as Sarah’s body rocked against it. The sound fed his lust and he pulled out quickly only to slam back in again, to hear that sound, to feel her clench around him.
The harshness, the lack of finesse had him too close too fast. “Sarah I can’t last much—”
Her cries of release drowned out his warning. Done holding back, he pounded into her in time with her pulses, using her orgasm to bring on his own. With a primal cry he shoved into her once more against the door as he finished, leaning into her to keep her up.
“What was that saying one more time? The Latin one?” she breathed after a moment.
“
Semper fi.
”
“
Semper fi
, indeed.”
He could barely groan out “Hoorah” before letting them both slide to the floor.
* * * * *
An hour later, Sarah rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. After untangling themselves from the floor, they’d managed to drag their abused bodies to bed and collapse for a nap. She smiled as she remembered the look on Pete’s face as he’d come. The look of ecstasy and pleasure combined. But more, she remembered the look right before she’d kissed him. Vulnerable, scared, hopeful, adorable.
When he’d admitted he cared.
She would remember that, no matter what. He cared.
Fingers ruffled through her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet moment.
“You okay?”
“Mmm.” She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to leave the cloud of contentment they were floating on. But things needed to be discussed.
“So does Trav have any idea about us?”
Sarah laughed. “Yup.”
“Did the vein in his forehead pop out?”
“For a second. He got over it though. He understands. And despite the fact that you will probably have to suffer some minor teasing—”
“It’s how guys show they care, baby.”
“Uh huh,” she said dryly. “I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
“Trav and I will get through it. Will you two?”
“Us two? Me and Trav? Get through what?”
His hand stilled for a moment before resuming the caress. “Your relationship with your brother is still new. I didn’t want anything to hurt that.”
The man was unbelievable. She hadn’t even thought of that. She was stunned speechless.
“Come back with me,” he said softly, his hand gliding down to hold hers.
“Seriously?”
He snorted. “Yeah. Come back to California with me. I don’t care if you get your own apartment. You’d have a kickass reference from Buffalo’s I’m sure. You could find a job anywhere near base. Just be there with me.”
Sarah rolled until she was draped over his chest. “It’s tempting,” she said slowly.
Pete’s face darkened. “I warn you, I’m not sure how relationships work. I’m from the anti-family. Zero good examples to go off of. And I move. A lot. If we’re still together, I’d want you to come with me.”
“Are you attempting to push me the other way?”
“Think of it as a full-disclosure clause.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “If you’re moving across the country, you should know everything.”
Did he really see himself as a liability rather than an asset? “You act like you have no clue how relationships work. But at the same time, you have all the qualities that anyone would dream for in a guy. Besides, you know I’m dying for some adventure. The chance to roam around. Knock a few of those red marks off my globe.” She cupped his face between her palms.
“Come with me. And show me.” He kissed her, turning her insides to butter.
“I think I will.”
The End
About the Author
KJ Reed is an inconspicuous housewife by day, folding laundry, changing diapers and washing dishes with pleasure. But late at night, when the rest of the household is asleep and not making messes she has to pick up, she writes erotic romance. She took up writing one day when she realized the voices in her head weren’t multiple personalities, but characters begging to come out and play.
A military wife, she’s fortunate enough to be surrounded by manly, Alpha-tastic inspiration on a daily basis. Nothing stirs the blood quite like a platoon of sweaty Marines running by in formation, does it ladies? Of course, she’d tell you where she lives, except by the time you’re done reading this biography…she’s probably moved again.
KJ is currently working on her next erotic romance, hopefully hot enough to singe your socks off. She loves email and is semi-compulsive in her need to quickly respond. So send her a shout out, tell her what you liked and what you want to see more of. You’re almost guaranteed a response.
KJ welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
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