Jericho (A Redemption Novel) (19 page)

He would have laughed at her statement if he had been able to. She was so innocently sweet. “Close your eyes,” he panted. “Just feel. We have a lifetime together.”

She kissed him, her eyes drifting shut, her body relaxing as he thrust into her. He was so close, but she wasn’t. He wanted to make her come. He wanted to feel her orgasm around him. “Tell me how to make you feel good, Georgia. I want to.”

Her eyes popped open. “You are making me feel good.”

He moved his hand to her breast, stroking her hard nipple with his thumb. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like being with you.” Her eyes drifted shut again. “I like everything you do.”

That wasn’t what he meant, but she was too sheltered to pick up on his meaning. He was going to have to show her, to explore her, to take great care in learning her body with her. She squeezed herself on him, contracting her muscles with every push. He didn’t know how she learned to do it, but it felt too good. He couldn’t last much longer if she was going to keep doing that, and he didn’t have it in him to ask her to stop.

“You’re perfect,” she said into his damaged ear, and then followed it up by pulling his lobe between her teeth.

He exploded then. It was her words, the way she felt around him, her being in his world that made him lose control. He collapsed back on the bed. She fell with him, but she didn’t remove herself from him. She lay there for long moments, her legs spread across him, her hands stroking down his sides, her lips leaving tiny sweet little kisses on his chest.

She hadn’t finished. Again. He owed it to her. He rolled her over and slid out of her; for a moment her curvy little nude body distracted him. She reached up toward him, sliding her hand along his cheek. He looked into her face. She was smiling. Her eyes were sleepy. Her expression was satisfied. “Let’s sleep now, sugar.” She wrapped her arms around him. “You wore me out.”

CHAPTER 19

G
eorgia looked over at her husband the next day as they drove to her sister’s hotel. There was something off with him. He was quiet. Distracted. At times he seemed almost disappointed. And she wasn’t sure why. She was feeling quite blissful. She had made love for the first time last night. More than once and it was beautiful. She felt like his wife.

They had made love this morning. Christian took his time. He touched her all over and kissed her in places she never thought to be kissed. The soles of her feet and the insides of her elbows. The underside of her chin. It was long and leisurely and she thought that making love with him was the closest to heaven she would ever get.

But he went quiet after the last time. After he asked her if she liked it, asked her if there was anything more that he could do to please her.

He had pleased her. She couldn’t think of anything else. She told him how happy he made her, that there wasn’t anything else. He went quiet then. He’d said hardly anything over breakfast. He’d said nothing since they got in the car and she wondered what had happened. She wondered if she had done something to displease him. She racked her mind but could think of nothing.

He pulled the car to a stop in front of Carolina and Miles’s hotel, but as he went to step out she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

He looked at her for a moment, his beautiful green eyes searching her face. “What is it, Georgia?”

“I miss my baby, but I’m glad we had last night and this morning. I know it’s silly to hope things never change. But if I can go to bed and wake up every day like I did today, I would be an extremely happy woman.”

He leaned over, took her chin between his fingers and gave her a long kiss. “You don’t lie.”

His statement confused her, but it was a statement. He wasn’t asking her. “No.” She should her head. “I don’t lie.”

He kissed her swiftly and got out of the car, walking around to her side to help her out. Something was wrong and she was too afraid to ask him what was bothering him.

They rode the elevator up to Carolina’s room and as they got closer, she grew more excited to see her baby. Abby had spent many nights without her in the care of Mrs. Sheppard, but this was the first time Abby had stayed with somebody she didn’t know. Georgia knew her, she knew Carolina so well, but she hadn’t seen her in two years. Her sister had always been good with children. She had taught preschool Sunday school, she had gone to college to become a teacher, but the thought of her sister taking care of her child worried her more than she wanted to admit. When the elevator stopped she walked a little more quickly than she should have. But then she forced herself to slow down, not wanting her husband to see how anxious she was.

She really was glad they had last night together. If Abby had been there, Georgia might not have felt so free.

She knocked on the door. Miles answered. He was smiling and holding a babbling Abby in his arms. “We weren’t expecting you this early. It’s not even eleven yet.”

“I missed my girl.” She took Abby from him and squeezed her. “How was your night, little one?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Carolina appeared from behind her husband. “I know you probably stayed up all night worrying, but we were fine, weren’t we, doll baby?” She stroked Abby’s cheek with the back of her fingers for a moment.

Georgia felt her husband’s broad body press against her back. He touched Abby’s head, causing her to look up at him.

“Da!” She nearly jumped from Georgia’s arms trying to reach for him.

“My girl.” Christian’s face lit up. He smiled like she had never seen him smile and if she were a stranger, if she had never seen him before, she would think he was one of the most handsome men in the world at that moment. “How are you, BB?” He took Abby from her, kissed her cheeks and protectively tucked her into his side.

Abby babbled happily and Georgia was torn between being happy that her husband and daughter got along so well and a little hurt that her daughter wasn’t as happy to see her.

She was going to choose to be happy, even though she was stung, because Christian needed Abby’s love. And he deserved it.

* * *

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Georgia asked Christian two weeks later.

Christian looked up from the hole he was spackling to see his wife standing in the doorway of the den. Sometimes he marveled over the fact that she was married to him. She looked so pretty, so Southern and ladylike with her hair down and in the simple new dress he made her buy for herself this week. Such a contrast to himself—he was covered in paint and plaster and dust from working around the house this morning. He could have hired someone to do the work for him but he had been feeling useless these past two weeks.

He wasn’t sure how to be a husband, but he knew his job was to take care of his wife. He had money. He could buy her whatever she wanted, but buying things wouldn’t please Georgia. He knew more than anything she wanted a nice home. He wanted to give it to her. He wanted to put his hands on it, his mark. He was no longer in the service. He wouldn’t die for his country, but this house could be his legacy. His gift to her.

It didn’t feel like enough, though. He wanted to do more for her but she wouldn’t let him. She cooked for him three times a day, whatever he wanted. She cleaned the house and made the bed. She ironed his clothes. She took care of Abby and worked in the garden. She let him make love to her every night as many times as he wanted. She even asked him if she could spend money.

She was doing too much. He married her so that he could take care of her. He owed that to her for making him want to live. And he owed his parents for not coming when they needed him, and Miko for not saving her and the men who died in his unit because he was too far from the blast to die with them. He owed all of them and wanted to show everyone he was a decent man.

“Don’t cook.” He put down the spackling paste and plopped himself on the old sofa they had found in one of the bedrooms. “You’ve been working in the garden all day. Let’s go out tonight.”

“Oh.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. “Are you sure? I just went grocery shopping. We don’t have to spend any more money.”

He should have been in heaven. He should have been elated that he had a sweet wife who always deferred to him and lived to make him happy. But he wasn’t in heaven. Georgia was being a good wife. But he wasn’t sure that they were having a good marriage.

Maybe it was him. Maybe his idea of marriage was skewed. His mother had been anything but docile. She had been loud. She cursed like a sailor. She had heated debates with his father on politics and religion and morals. And she didn’t clean toilets.

His parents’ marriage was never quiet. It was never predictable. His parents had loved hard. He was almost glad that they had died together, because he couldn’t picture one without the other. He didn’t think either would have survived without the other. They had married out of love. And he and Georgia... It seemed their marriage was based on guilt and convenience.

“Going out to dinner after you’ve gone grocery shopping isn’t going to bankrupt us. You’ve cooked every night since we’ve been married, even on the weekends. It’s okay for you not to.”

“But it’s my job.”

“It’s not your job!” he snapped. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but it was a phrase that she said often, as though marriage to him was a chore and not something she really wanted to do. “I’m sorry, but it’s not your job to cook. I can cook, too, and clean and help with Abby. We are partners.”

“But I’m not working anymore and you paid off all my medical bills and debt. You got me a new car. I need to contribute, and I do it by taking care of you.”

He shook his head, not wanting to argue. What had happened to his night nurse? The one with a little sass under her sweet exterior, the one who debated him about war and pain and right and wrong. Two weeks of marriage and he felt as though that woman had been replaced by...by...a servant.

The intense connection they’d had seemed to be fading. Sex had changed things between them. He loved being with her. He loved the way she smelled and sighed and felt, but when he was making love to her there was no connection, no participation from her. She let herself be loved, but she never lost herself, or lost control or screamed out in passion. She was holding back from him. He hated that. He hated that she never had an orgasm with him. He hated that he couldn’t connect to her. He needed that. He craved that.

It was what was missing.

“Come here and kiss me.”

“What?” She was surprised by his request and he surprised himself, but he needed to feel her in that moment.

“Come here and kiss me.”

She crossed the room, looking unsure of herself, but she didn’t question him. She knelt between his legs. Knelt on the floor and reached up to him, as if she was his submissive. He wasn’t a marine anymore. He wasn’t a commander. If he wanted subordinates he would have stayed in. He yanked her into his lap, her legs spread across his so that they were eye to eye, so that he could see her every expression. “Kiss me, Georgia.”

She looked at his lips and licked her own.

“Kiss me.”

She finally did. She set her lips to his mouth and kissed him sweetly, but he didn’t want sweetness from her. He wanted hot and hard and passionate.

Was it wrong to want that from her? He had felt it before. When he was still in the hospital. He had felt her passion and it had brought him back from death. Where had it gone?

“Kiss me harder.”

Her cheeks burned and she tried again. Her mouth opened over his. She used her tongue, shyly, unsure of herself. He gripped her face, silently urging her to try harder. She deepened their kiss and it suddenly became wetter, became hotter. He reached under her dress, needing to mold his hand around her lush behind. As she shifted forward, his cock twitched and she jumped a little, breaking the kiss and looking him in the eye.

“Where’s Abby?”

“She’s sleeping. I just put her in her crib.”

They were alone. And newly married. And he wanted her. “Take your clothes off.”

“Take my clothes off? Now?” She looked around the unfinished den with the smell of plaster and the paint peeling from the walls. “Here?”

“Yes. Now and here.” He would want her anywhere, anytime. That was what got them into trouble in the first place. “Unless you don’t want to.”

She nodded, setting her hands on his shoulders. “I want to make love if you want to make love.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to. Tell me no.”

“I want to,” she whispered. “I want you.”

“Good. Take your clothes off and kiss me.”

* * *

Georgia wasn’t sure what was going through Christian’s mind. But she didn’t question him any further. She had begun to feel aroused the moment he’d tugged her into his lap. There was something about kissing him and him not kissing her back, him taking the passive role, that sent a rush of heat through her. She almost cried out when he grabbed her behind, but she held back, embarrassed for him to know how much he made her want to lose control.

They had made love every night and sometimes in the morning, but for some reason this time was different. It felt different... She couldn’t name it, but she knew that pleasant warm dampness she usually felt was nowhere to be found. Her underwear was soaked. She was horrified by it. Part of her wanted to scurry off his lap before he noticed. But a bigger part of her wanted to stay and be with him, feel more of him. He wanted her to take off all of her clothes, with no cover of darkness or blankets or the safety of their bedroom.

She could say no or demand that they go upstairs, but she didn’t. She didn’t think her legs were strong enough to carry her.

His thumbs stroked her lower back as he waited for her to undress. She had never undressed in front of him before. She always had done so in the bathroom, and when they made love he was always the one who pulled off her nightgowns. But now it seemed he would be no help.

She took a breath before she pulled her dress over her head. His eyes greedily ate her up even though there was nothing sexy about her. She wore a plain white bra and panties. Nothing exotic. Nothing erotic. Nothing she could think of to cause him to look at her like that. She had thought, in that secret part in the back of her mind, that he was getting bored of home life, of her. He was a man used to war and foreign terrain and danger. But when he looked at her with all that rawness in his eyes, she thought, maybe foolishly, that she could satisfy him.

And she would try to satisfy him. Or she would die trying.

“You’re so pretty.” He cupped her breast in his hand and ran his thumb over the top of her cleavage. “I love to look at you.”

“Do you?” She unhooked her bra. Slowly. She felt a little surge of power when his eyes followed her every movement. She slid the bra down her shoulders and off her arms, but she held it to her chest, teasing him. Not letting him see all of her. “Sometimes I wonder about who you would have married if you had your choice. Would you have picked somebody tall? And blond? Somebody with unfreckled skin and no baggage?” She let the bra slip, revealing all of herself to him, but instead of his eyes going to her breasts, they stayed on her face. His body went rock hard, so tense that she knew she had done something wrong.

“If I had a choice? I would have picked a preacher’s daughter with reddish hair and pretty brown skin. I would have picked the woman whose touch and attention was the only thing I had to look forward to when I was so hurt in the hospital. I would pick a woman with the baggage because she’s the strongest person I have ever met. If I had my choice, Georgia, I would pick you. I did pick you. I married you because I knew my life without you would be shit.”

She stared at him for a moment as his words sunk in. It was as though something inside of her snapped, because she lost all control of herself. She smashed her mouth to his, kissing him hard. He responded. He opened his mouth to her, let her slide her tongue along his. He let her control the kiss. All he did was hold her.