Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance (10 page)

Nope. Don’t even think about it.

I, Caleb Fawn, do solemnly swear not to sleep with Boxcar.

Not today. Not tomorrow.

Not ever.

Chapter 10

Caleb

Los Angeles

Present Day

Boxcar
.

He kisses me and it all comes crashing down like a damn tidal wave. His tongue touches mine and lightning strikes down to my toes. I lean closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body and the soft touch of his fingers gliding across my lower back beneath my shirt.

A moan caresses the back of my throat, urging his hands to keep moving and Boxcar hears it, tuning in to our own special frequency. His fingers travel up my back, inching along the sensitive skin of my spine, tickling me the way only he knows how. I sigh on my breath and lower my hands to his belt.

Boxcar groans as his zipper falls and my hand touches the thin skin of his calm shaft. It twitches against my fingers, surging with fresh blood, growing hard in my palm. I’ve almost forgotten how thick he was. My core throbs with warmth, begging to recall what he feels like inside.

I push his briefs down and his manhood stands firm between us, throbbing for me in my hand with each gentle stroke I give him. His lips never leave mine as his fingers slip beneath the elastic of my slacks to cup my rear. I quiver against his warm, squeezing hands. He pushes my slacks down to my ankles, along with my moist panties, and stands back up to push me hard against the counter. I hop up onto it and spread my knees, wrapping my legs around his waist as he steps into position between them. His cock pushes against my willing folds and my teeth chatter with lust for him.

“Box…” I whisper against his lips.

He pauses, staring into my eyes through the thick rims of his glasses. Light reflects back at me through the glass barrier between us. I reach up and push the glasses off his head and drop them on the counter behind me to get a better look at him. He’s barely aged a day since the last time I saw him and I wonder if he can say the same about me. Stress has no doubt beat me up plenty but if it’s done the same for him, he’s not showing it. He’s still youthful and playful as he ever was with his adorable green eyes and thick, brown hair.

He caresses my face with his hand, sliding his thumb across my cheek as he holds my stare. His eyes sparkle with lingering desire for me, the same desire I saw in his eyes in Afghanistan.

I reach for his hips and pull him closer, drawing a heavy breath from the bottom of his lungs as his cock presses even harder against my slit. He trembles as I take hold of his hardness and guide the tip to rest on my entrance.

Boxcar’s lips curl and he steals another firm kiss from me. He sheaths himself inside of me, pulled in by my guiding fingers, pushing in until he can go no further. We both pause and lean against each other with closed eyes as that old, familiar ache reignites the air between us. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me with laughter in his throat, torn between the instinct to come and the desire to make this last.

If only I had that choice. I feel my climax already, lingering on the edges of me, just begging to break down my walls. His thickness dominates me with a subtle pain and I cling to it, squeezing the muscles around him as he slowly begins his thrust.

My feet hang by his sides, twitching with warmth as pleasure radiates my toes. Boxcar rocks us both with quick, deep thrusts and I can do nothing to fight the forgotten passion overwhelming us both. He drops his lips to my neck and I feel the edge of his teeth digging into my skin and the soft caress of his tongue tasting me.

“Don’t stop…” I moan, quickly scaling the walls between myself and climax.

Boxcar grips my waist and pulls me closer to him to guide his hard, purposeful thrusts. After all this time, he still knows how to hold me and exactly where to touch me to control the fire inside of me. What Boxcar lacks in life, he more than makes up for in his bed. He’s the type of lover that studies his woman and takes his time on her, never once batting an impatient eye as she enjoys herself beneath him.

Some things never change.

He grips me harder and takes me into his strong arms to slide me off the counter. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, refusing to let him slide out of me for even a second as he carries me across the room and lowers us both down onto my bed. He pins me against the mattress and fucks me, reminding me that I’m his woman and no one else’s. He fucks me like a man should fuck his wife.

I push his jacket off his shoulders, craving to feel even more of his smooth skin. He leans up and slides it off his arms, tossing it to the floor as I reach for his shirt. It ruffles his hair as he jerks it off his head and I chuckle softly to myself as he tries to fix it. I put my hands on his body, drawing his attentions back and luring him down to my lips again. He pushes deeper inside as he lowers down and I moan against his mouth, urging him to keep fucking me but he holds himself steady instead.

Boxcar lays his hands on me, fishing them beneath my shirt. His fingers crawl upward to caress my breasts and feel my nipples as they poke his palms. He takes his time sliding my shirt up, re-learning every gentle curve of me, every freckle and spot on my skin. I twitch with impatience, knowing that the pleasure gently tapping on my walls is just the beginning of what he’s capable of doing to me.

He pulls back and his cock falls out of me. I grit my teeth in disappointment but that feeling fades as Boxcar’s mouth descends down my neck and over my breasts. His tongue travels my navel, leaving wet kisses along my taut skin all the way down to my heaving mound. He pushes my knees farther apart, straining my muscles until they hurt. My back arches. My toes curl. My entire body submits as his warm breath rakes across my folds and his lips clamp around my surging clit.

I moan towards the ceiling. Quick, constant breaths keep me light-headed and weak, completely unable to process the supreme pleasure dominating me from the inside out. His tongue laps at me, zeroing in on the most sensitive spot. He stares up at me with purposeful eyes, locking on mine as I writhe beneath him.

Boxcar lays a firm finger against my opening and I breathe a deep sigh. I’m not even sure how much more of this I can take before I’m screaming his name and I know exactly what he can do with those strong, trained fingers of his. I look into his eyes again, seeing the impish delight in his pupils as he slides a single finger inside and waits for my moans to subside before playing me with expert precision. Flawless and true, he massages a thunderous climax out of me, refusing to stop his gentle rub even as my muscles clamp down on his hand.

“Box!”
I scream, barely able to catch my breath as he slides a second finger inside and fucks me hard and fast with both fingers. He keeps his hand working as he travels upward, leaving hot, eager kisses along my flesh before finally finding my lips again. I ache for more of him, especially the wide, thickness of his cock. I reach for it and grip it with my fingers, wrapping around it and squeezing hard with the softening waves of climax still tingling my insides.

Boxcar laughs and slides his fingers out of me, reading my expression like a book he’s read a thousand times. He knows what I want. He knows how I want it and where. He always did and he always will.

He grabs me and guides me around onto my hands and knees. I feel him press against me, hard and firm as ever, before he burrows his cock back inside of me where he belongs. With one hand on my waist and another resting on my shoulder, he pounds me with hard, deliberate thrusts.

“Oh, god—!”
I moan through my teeth, relishing in the masterful glide of his cock against my insides. He angles his charge, pushing me to the edge once again with seemingly little effort — like he’s never forgotten what buttons to push and how hard to push them. Breaths tumble off my lips faster and wilder and I go stiff as he finds the most perfect rhythm inside. He takes me with a firm grind, forcing me to come on his cock as his own animalistic grunts tear his throat apart.

Everything crumbles and I lose control of my senses. Orgasm washes everything away, leaving me throbbing and broken in his steady grip, but he doesn’t stop pounding me. I let him have me, feeling his own pleasures taking him over.

My tongue taps the roof of my mouth, remembering and craving his taste upon it. Saliva nudges over my lips and I bite my cheek with patience. I twist around to watch him, paying attention to the subtle expressions on his face, waiting for the moment I know he’ll explode for me.

He closes his eyes and his spine stiffens. One last grunt touches his mouth and I turn around to take his thick cock between my lips. He lays a hand on my head and leans back, allowing me to suck him off into the back of my throat. My taste buds implode, completely satisfied with the taste of him and the nostalgic musk of his sweat. His fingers latch onto my hair, bringing small pains to my scalp as I pump him in my mouth. I send his warm desire back, feeling that hot tickle dripping down my throat, moaning softly as my tongue caresses his perfect glands.

“Fuck…”
he whispers, out of breath but wanting more.

I roll my tongue along his tip, listening to the sharp hisses firing out of his mouth as the sensation becomes too much for him. Rather than tell me to stop, he grabs my shoulders and forces me back onto the pillows. I laugh as he does it, noting the manly twinkle in his eye as he pins me to the mattress. I flex and shift us both with a quick jerk, twisting him around onto his back before he even knows what hit him. Surprise jolts his eyes but he quickly laughs and settles against the bed.

“There she is…” he says, smiling.

I narrow my eyes and take control of my wild pulse. “Who?” I ask.

“My warrior woman.”

My eyebrow twitches and he looks down my naked body on display above him. I let go of his hands and sit back, straddling his waist as the adrenaline abandons me. “Yours, huh?” I ask between breaths.

“Well…” he shrugs. “Was that ever a question?”

I suck my numb lips, biting down to experience the pain as feeling returns to my limbs.

Boxcar.
The only man I’ve ever wanted. The only man that’s ever wanted me back — that I know of.

So, why I am so unsure of this?

“Get up,” I say, sliding off of him and planting my feet on the floor.

“Wait—” Boxcar grabs my arm, wrapping his fingers tight around my elbow. “Don’t do that thing.”

I jerk my head to look back at him. “What
thing
?”

“You know damn well what thing.” He releases my arm and sits back. “That sudden attack of conscience you get — even after you’ve done nothing wrong.”

I force my lips shut. His understanding of my character is just as annoying now as it was back then. Giving in to Boxcar has always filled me with a keen sense of guilt and he’s absolutely right — it has no real reason for existence other than it just
does
.

“Caleb…” My name flies through his lips and travels down my spine. “Lie down with me.”

I sit still, unable to move, unable to take what I really want. “Boxcar—”

“Lie down with me.”

I close my eyes as his voice twitches my senses again. It’s firm and demanding; a side of him that rarely shines out and it amuses me every time. I look back at him and his playful eyes overwhelm me with calm. Finally, I give in and lean beside him. He guides me closer and rests my head against his chest. I feel his muscles flex beneath me. He’s stronger than he used to be. He’s obviously been working out since the last time I saw him and I’ll admit — he looks
good
.

Boxcar draws a line across my head, pulling stray hairs away from my eyes and tucking them back behind my ear. “Talk to me, Caleb,” he says. “What’s going on in there?”

I breathe deep, relishing in his scent as it travels through my nose. “I don’t know,” I whisper.

He keeps his hands against me; fingers gently gliding along my shoulders to hold me there and to stop me from running again. It feels like I’ve always been running. Running from him, running from life, running from mistakes and circumstances outside of my control.

Running away from that bullet.