Falling for the Marine (A McCade Brothers Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (8 page)

From pretty much the moment he’d walked in the door and seen her in dancing around in those high heels and shorts, he’d planned on getting her into his bedroom, but a therapeutic massage had been the last thing on his agenda. Now, here she was, leading him into his room like a nursemaid. The whole sad scene made his earlier aspirations seem like a sick joke. “I don’t need any help,” he ground out, well aware he sounded like a cranky five-year-old. He caught a glimpse inside the guest room as they passed, and nearly stumbled at the sight of two, oversize, hot-pink duffle bags parked on the floor, overflowing with clothes and shoes. “You know, for a free bird, you don’t travel all that light.”

She gave him the owl eyes. “Too much stuff everywhere?”

Okay, maybe the pain made him more blunt than normal, but he was starting to feel claustrophobic in his own home. “More than I expected. Ten years rotating between stateside posts and overseas deployments got me used to keeping things pared down to the essentials. All this”—he gestured to the apartment in general—“is a little overwhelming.”

“No problem.” She preceded him into his bedroom. “I’ll edit the decor down a bit after I get your back squared away.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Take off your shirt, remove your belt, and lie facedown on the floor, right here.” She pointed to the empty area right beside his bed.

Her words taunted him with their completely unintended erotic undertones, and the frustration of the situation got the better of him. “I’d rather have you face down on the floor, naked, telling me exactly how hard and fast you’d like me to fuck you. Barring that, I’d just as soon be alone with my messed-up back and two fingers of Johnny Walker.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, which pushed her breasts up to tantalizing new heights above the neckline of her tank top. “If you follow instructions like a good boy and let me get you to the point you could actually follow through on the offer, I’m more than happy to discuss how hard and fast I like to be fucked.”

Okay, huge incentive to stop acting like a complete asshole. He walked over to her and carefully unfolded her arms. Then he took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers, and squeezed gently. She squeezed back. “I’m sorry. I can be a good boy.”

“I’ll bet you can.”

She obviously intended to rub her very talented hands all over him. No reason to fight that. But he could fight for maximum comfort. “Sure you wouldn’t rather do this on my bed?”

“Not this. I need you on a solid surface if I’m going to try to work some magic between your L5 and S1. Afterward,” she raised a shoulder and let it drop, “who knows where we’ll end up?” She took a step back and wiggled her fingers. He released her hand. “Go ahead and get into position. I’m going to grab some massage oil from my room. Be right back.”

She swept by him and he moved aside to let her go. He expelled a slow breath and then stared at the spot where she’d told him to lie down. Getting down there was going to be a challenge. He unbuttoned his shirt with less-than-steady hands, shrugged it off, and tossed it on the bed. The white undershirt quickly followed. Then he sat on the bed, lifted each foot, unlaced and removed his boots without moving his lower back. The belt came off next. And then—thank Christ he was still alone—he lowered himself to his knees like an out-of-practice Catholic. From there he went onto all fours and slowly slid his legs backward into a push-up position. He released his elbows and lowered his chest until it rested on the rough-weave carpet. The pressure on the nerve abated a little and the pain lancing down his leg subsided from heinous to merely unbearable.

“Do you prefer sandalwood or eucalyptus?” Chloe’s voice invaded his thoughts at the same time two powerful scents invaded his nostrils.

“Your choice,” he managed, turning his face to the side to watch as she stepped out of her heels and knelt down beside him.

“I choose eucalyptus, in that case.” She recapped one bottle and put it down on the nightstand, then shook the other bottle. “The essential oil acts as an anti-inflammatory, plus it’s recognized as a treatment for muscle aches and pains. Relax,” she said softly and positioned his neck the way she wanted it. He heard a
click
when she flicked the bottle open and dribbled oil into her palm.

His nerve endings tingled. And then her hands were on him. The warmth of her touch flowed from the base of his neck, along either side of his spine, and stopped just below the waistband of his pants.

He held his breath.

Gentle thumbs found tense muscles in the center of his back, dug in, and meticulously worked their way out, toward his hips, keeping the pressure steady as she went. By the third pass, the pain was down to a low ache and he was starting to imagine her rubbing other areas besides his back.

He released a breath. “That feels good.”

“I know.”

“You can’t possibly know,” he mumbled, enjoying her hands, the scent of the massage oil, even the texture of the carpet against his cheek.

“Sure I can. Licensed massage therapists undergo hundreds of hours of training, and I’ve been a guinea pig more times than I can count. I know what it’s like to be the one trusting my vulnerable, half-naked body to the skill of the therapist.”

Her soft, husky voice wove yet another fiber into the cocoon wrapped around him. He drifted a little deeper into the state of grace she seemed to be able to put him in at will.

Warm, lubricated hands swept over his shoulder blades, down his back, and pushed his pants a little farther down his hips. “No tattoos for you, Major?”

“Uh-uh. I’m not a big fan of needles.”

She chuckled. “Beauty knows no pain.”

“
My
ass knows no pain, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

This time, when her fingers wandered to the base of his spine and gently probed the gap between his vertebrae, he didn’t tense up. She offset the downward push at his lower back with opposite motion at the base of his skull. The entire length of his spine underwent a slow, subtle stretch, and, just like last time, the ache dissolved. He couldn’t hold back a groan of relief.

“Better?” She shifted around until she faced his feet.

“God, yes,” he confirmed, in barely more than a two-syllable grunt.

“Any residual pain darting along here?” Her hands smoothed over the small of his back and then down into his pants, moving lower as she massaging his hip.

The new direction of the massage managed to relax and energize him at the same time. Within seconds, those nimble fingers of hers had his dick drilling a hole in the floorboards. “Chloe?”

“Yes?” Her hands stopped their slow, circular sweeps along his hip.

“I’m going to turn over now.”

“I’m still feeling some impaction here at the abductor—

“I’m going to turn over,” he repeated and made good on the announcement. “You,” he hooked his hand into the gap between her back and the waistband of her shorts, “are going to shimmy out of these.” He gave the shorts a tug. “Understand?” Maybe they didn’t have any condoms, but he was ready to get creative.

She sat stock-still for a moment, not facing him, and he wondered if he’d offended her by issuing the lewd instruction while she was working on him. Then she stood, and, God help him, unbuttoned the little shorts. She let them fall to her ankles, treating him to the sight of the hummingbird framed by the frilly elastic of a lemon-yellow thong.

“What next?” she asked, as she stepped out of the shorts.

“The shirt.”

He watched, dry-mouthed, as she lifted the tank top over her head and tossed it aside. Only the yellow thong and matching bra interrupted the smooth, lightly tanned expanses of skin before him.

“Anything else you’d like me to take off?”

The word “everything” sprang to mind, but what actually came out of his mouth was, “Put the shoes back on.”

She turned her head and offered him a perfect profile, and he saw her lips curve slightly. “Yes, sir.” Then she bent down and slipped the shiny, leather heels on. He couldn’t have spoken a word if his life depended on it.

“And now?”

He took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in the fact that her voice wasn’t quite steady.

“Turn around, get on your knees, and straddle my face.”

She turned, and trailed her fingers over the lacy edge of her bra cup. A pretty pink flush colored her cheeks. “Mind if I take this off first? It feels a little…tight…all of the sudden.”

“Not at all. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.” A second later the bra landed on the carpet beside him.

“Now,” she shook out her hair and leveled her gaze on him, “what was it you had in mind again?”

He patted his chest. “You, on your knees, straddling my face.”

One light brow arched. “Well, that gives you something to do, but what about me? How do I occupy myself?”

He wrapped his fingers around her ankle. “I don’t think you’ll be bored. In about a minute you’re going to be fully occupied coming on my tongue.”

The corner of her mouth rose in a challenging smile. “One minute? You’re awfully cocky for a guy who’s flat on his back.”

“Go ahead, put me to the test.”

She moved to stand just beyond the top of his head. He felt the toe of her shoe brush his hair. “Why don’t we see who’s coming against who’s tongue in one minute.” With that suggestion hanging in the air, she knelt and planted a knee on either side of his head. The pose left her thighs open and the damp silk of her panties scant inches from his lips.

“Game on,” he managed as she walked her hands down alongside his body until her face hovered over his lap. Her hands bracketed his hips. He raised his knees and planted the soles of his feet flat on the floor.

She pressed her face against the front of his pants and nuzzled a groan out of him. Then she looked down at him through the space between their bodies and smiled. “Still think you’re going to win this battle, Major?”

“Chloe, do you remember everything I did to you yesterday with my mouth? How I licked and sucked and nibbled your lips. How I teased the rest of you until you wanted to scream?”

Her eyes went glassy. “Y-yes,” she murmured. She also lowered her hips a fraction of an inch, but he wasn’t sure she did it consciously.

“Me, too.” He ran his hands up her thighs, traced his finger under the little V at the back of her thong, and fiddled there, plucking at the line of fabric…moving it back and forth, alternatingly pulling it tight and letting it slide back into place. She shivered and squirmed over him.

He turned his head and kissed the soft flesh of her inner thigh, loving the feel of her satiny skin against his lips. She jumped and cried out, and he loved that, too. “Easy,” he said, and tightened his hold on her thighs. Then, because her scent made his mouth water, he took a nip from her other thigh.

The muscles under his hands clenched and fluttered. “Michael! Oh, God—”

“Don’t you dare come,” he warned, and deliberately let his breath fan over her damp panties, smiling when she moaned. “I haven’t even gotten started yet. I’m still reminiscing about yesterday, when I ran my tongue all over those sweet nipples of yours, and then took them in my mouth. Remember?”

An indecipherable sound served as her reply.

“I do. I seem to recall I kept right on sucking and biting and devouring you until you—Sweet Jesus…”

Slim fingers fastened around him through his pants, effectively cutting off his power of speech. He let go of her long enough to make a grab for his zipper. Their hands tangled as they fought his fly down and she freed him from his shorts.

“I can play the memory game, too, Michael. For example, do you remember yesterday afternoon at the clinic, when I pulled the sheet off your lap and gave you a very intimate…massage?” Her warm breath teased his head and every last bit of blood in his body drained directly into his dick.

“It’s coming back to me,” he choked out. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he clenched his jaw when she closed her fingers around his cock and milked him slowly from base to tip. Before he could recover from the maneuver, she pressed her lips to the tip, parted them, and took him in. All the way in.

He reached down and skimmed his index finger lightly along the seam where her lips locked snug around his throbbing cock. “I hope you’re prepared to take whatever you dish out.”

Apparently she wasn’t worried. With a noise somewhere between a laugh and a moan, she braced herself on one forearm, burrowed her hand between his legs, and cupped his balls. He didn’t know if she thought she’d found an exemption to his you-take-what-you-dish-out promise, but, if so, he figured it was time to prove her wrong.

“Buckle up, Chloe.” He dragged her panties aside and kissed her long and hard, splaying his hands over the small of her back and holding her in place when she stiffened and tried to buck away. She moaned again—no hint of a laugh this time—and then, as if realizing her best defense was a swift, take-no-prisoners offense, mirrored the move on his cock, sucking him into a deep kiss, and giving his balls a squeeze for good measure.

“What?” The word came out as a gasp. “You think I’ve got no answer to that?” He parted her with his tongue. She wrapped her other hand around his thigh, arched her back, and cried out. The cry turned ragged when he laved her exposed, swollen center, and circled a finger around her opening.

“I’ve got a winning answer,” he promised and eased his finger into her. Her greedy interior muscles clenched and released around him in absolutely perfect timing with the contraction and slide of her mouth up and down his shaft. And, just like that, he lost the advantage—and he knew it.

A tightening started in the arches of his feet. “Oh shit. Chloe…” He meant it as a warning, but she clung to him like a limpet and increased the pace of…everything. Her head bobbed between his legs. Her hips jerked back and forth as she rode his tongue like a rodeo star.

His calves tightened. His thighs burned. The breath backed up in his lungs and gray spots formed at the edges of his vision. She squeezed his balls again and rubbed her finger along a spot just behind them. His entire body shuddered in a response so instinctive and involuntary he couldn’t have suppressed himself if his life depended on it.