Man of Honor (Battle Scars) (15 page)

T
he young man sitting at the high-top table stands as we approach. Mea wraps him a fierce hug as soon as she’s close enough, and I take a second to evaluate Mikah Jones.

He’s tall and slender, not as tall as my six foot three but close to it. Other than the height, he’s Mea’s male twin. His hair is short and a mess of wild dark brown curls, his skin matches her bronzed tone exactly. Deep, dark green eyes are spaced widely under bushy black brows. His mouth is curved into a tender smile as he hugs his big sister.

“Hey, sis. You doing okay?” His drawl is distinctly southern, a mixture between his Kentucky heritage and his North Carolina upbringing.

Mea pulls back and holds him at arm’s length, her shrewd gaze scoping him out from top to bottom. Then she slaps him, hard, on the arm. “I feel like I never see you anymore! A kid moves to Wilmington, only forty minutes away, and never looks back!”

Mikah flinches, grabbing his arm in dramatic fashion as he scowls at her. “Damn! A man be busy! I’ve got things to do!”

I step up beside my girl, holding out a hand for Mikah as I wrap the other arm around her waist. “Sweetheart, don’t beat your brother up before I can meet him.”

She rolls her eyes, but gestures toward me. “Baby brother Mikah, this is Drake. Boyfriend Drake, this is Mikah.”

He shakes my hand, but his eyes zero in on my arm wrapped loosely around his sister and the way she’s snugged into my side just because of my closeness.

From what I know about Mea, she’s probably never brought a guy to meet the most important man in her life. At twenty-five, she’s never been in a serious relationship. If I were Mikah, I’d be looking myself over carefully, too, wondering
what’s so different about him
?

We all sit down at the table, me sliding Mea’s chair out for her and scooting her back in before I take my own seat. And all the while, Mikah’s careful gaze watches my every move. I can’t blame the guy. He and his sister have protected each other since they were kids. I’m sure that doesn’t stop now just because they’re all grown up.

The server marches over to us. He’s clearly slammed, this being a Saturday night at the beach in March, and his brisk tone reflects that. Mikah and Mea both order a beer, but I decide to stick to water.

Mea glances at me and gives me a warm smile. The fact that she notices my change in drinking habits brings a reassuring comfort to my chest.

“So.” Mikah leans forward, his eyes locking with mine. “How did you and my sister hook up, Drake?”

His question is so direct it makes me chuckle. He doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s like his sister in that way. For as long as I’ve known her, Mea’s been a chick who can get straight to the point. I always knew that was a rare thing, and it’s something I’ve grown to love about her.

Love?

The word floats into my thoughts out of nowhere. What did I think was happening here? I’m suddenly afraid. The last woman I loved broke me. Over and over again. Until one day, I had to leave her and never look back.

The pain must be showing on my face, because Mea nudges me gently. “Drake? What’s wrong?”

Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat. “Nothing. I’m fine.” Directing my gaze at Mikah, I answer his question. “Mea and I met a few years back, when she brought her car to my garage for an oil change. Then we crossed paths again when her best friend and mine got together.”

Mikah eyes me thoughtfully. “Right. Berkeley and Dare. You and Dare served together?”

I grunt in the affirmative. “Ranger battalion.”

Mikah looks impressed. At that moment, our server returns to take our dinner orders. After he leaves again, Mikah leans back in his seat. It’s the first time since we sat down that he’s relaxed a bit, so I take it as a good sign. And then Mea’s little hand finds my thigh under the table. My body tightens up immediately. When she begins kneading my muscle in a sensual way, my dick hardens at the same time that my balls draw up nice and tight. I try to keep the strain from showing on my face.

She’s wearing a sneaky little smile that tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.

This is war.
If she thinks she can make me look like a horny teenager in front of her brother, I can come up with a game of my own.

As Mikah and Mea start discussing his job as a junior longshoreman in Wilmington, I casually drape my arm over the back of her chair. Using my fingers, I begin to trace small circles in the area that I know to be the most sensitive: the back of her neck. She jumps slightly, and I let my fingers dip just below the neckline of her shirt.

I watch in fascination when she tucks her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking on the corner of it the way she does whenever she’s feeling something intensely. It always adds fuel to the fire always burning inside of me when I’m around her. She’s so fucking sexy in ways she has no clue about.

“So, Drake.” I force my eyes to leave Mea’s mouth so I can focus on Mikah. She takes the opportunity to slide her hand farther north on my thigh. I try not to wince.

“You own a garage? I’ve never been taught much about cars, but I’m still into them. Bikes, too.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Yeah? I’m restoring a classic Yamaha motorcycle right now. You should come by sometime and help me out. Maybe I can get done with it faster, and you’ll learn something new.”

Mikah’s eyes light up, and Mea groans.

With a smile for both of us, she turns shining eyes my way. My heartbeat rockets at the sight of it. I let my fingers entwine in her hair, any thought of teasing her in front of her brother nonexistent now. My lips curl into a real smile, returning hers.

“I think you just made his month.” Mea sounds thrilled.

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly. Mikah and I are getting along really well, and I can tell by Mea’s sunny smile and easy laughter that she’s happy about it. Never having had siblings myself, I admire their relationship. They seem to know everything about one another, and get each other on a level no one else does. It’s enlightening and intimidating.

I refuse to take any arguments from Mikah when I pick up the tab. I throw my credit card down on the table just as Mea excuses herself for the ladies’ room. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Mikah’s expression goes serious as he looks at me.

“Has she told you about our father?” His eyes flash at the mention of the man.

Feeling everything inside me tighten at the mention of the man who hurt her, I nod. “Yeah.”

Mikah’s brows lift in surprise. “She did? She never tells anyone about him.”

I lean forward and clasp my hands together on the table. Looking him straight in the eye, I match the seriousness of his tone. “Mea’s important to me. I’d like to think I mean something to her, too. So, yeah. She told me. It was hard to hear, Mikah. Really fucking hard.”

There’s a hard glint to his expression now. “I was too young to protect her back then, you know? But a day hasn’t gone by that I wish I hadn’t killed the bastard. If he ever thinks about contacting her again, I will.”

There’s not a hint of humor or casualness in his tone. Mikah is dead serious about his threat, and I can’t blame him for wanting to hurt the man that hurt his sister.

I have the same strong desire.

“He hasn’t contacted her, Mikah. She’d tell me if he had.”

Mikah leans back against the back of his chair, rubbing his thumb along his jaw in agitation. “Good. You’ll let me know if he does?”

I hesitate. I would never do anything that hurt Mea, or that put either one of them in danger. If Mikah is serious about his threat against their father, I don’t want anything to push him into action. His safety and security are important to Mea, and that makes it important to me, too.

But as a man, I can understand his need to protect her. If I had a sister, and I knew that a man had hurt her the way Mea’s dad did to her…I don’t know what I’d do. I have enough trouble picturing how helpless Mea was to save herself from a monster like that. I can’t imagine feeling responsible for a sister that way, too.

So I agree to Mikah’s question. “Yeah. I’ll let you know.”

We drop the subject when Mea returns to the table.

But the conversation with Mikah doesn’t leave me right away. It’s something that replays over and over in my mind, even hours after the dinner is over.

“Do you know…” My breath comes faster as I slip Mea’s short little dress over her head. My heart is a caged animal in my chest, fighting to break out when she’s bared to me. My girl always keeps it simple, but the sight of her in her emerald-green cotton bra and matching black panties suck all the air from the room.

Instead of falling back onto my bed, she grabs hold of my belt, making quick work of the buckle before she starts in on the button of my jeans.

I keep my eyes locked on her tiny, deft fingers. There’s no hesitation in her work. “…how much…”

She slips my old faded jeans down over my hips. Her eyes are liquid fire.

“…I’ve needed to get you naked tonight?” I finish in a pant.

Mea nods, her tongue darting out to lick her lips when she realizes there’s nothing under my jeans. She follows their procession down my legs, falling to her knees in front of me as I step free from the denim.

Looking up at me through her long lashes, she smirks. “As much as I have.” Then she takes my dick into her strong, steady hand.

“Fuuuuck.” I want to drop my head back, let it loll along my neck, but I can’t take my eyes from the gorgeous sight before me. She strokes her hand up and down my length. My senses are going crazy just watching her. I don’t know what’s sexier: her enthralled gaze while she watches what she’s doing, or the satiny feel of her hands as they stroke me.

Dipping her head, she takes me into her mouth. Every single muscle in my legs tightens on instinct. The last thing I want to do is lose my release right now. Not like this. But
damn.

“Holy fuck. You’re killing me, sweetheart.” I grind out the words.

She lets go of my erection, and as I pop out of her mouth she shoots me a wicked grin. “Then don’t hold back. I can take it.”

Winding my fingers through her curls, I hiss through my teeth as she sucks me deep. Her head bobs as she pulls me in and out of her mouth, the warmth and the wetness driving me wild. I can’t help but thrust my hips in time with her action, until my toes begin to curl and my eyes start to roll back in my head.

Jerking out of her mouth, I pull her up and into my arms. She grabs my face in her hands and kisses me. She ravages my mouth, and I groan at the way her tongue tastes. The mixture of my salt and her sweetness is a drug. I’m addicted to her.

I know that I’ll never be able to kick the habit.

Turning with her in my arms, I lay her down on my bed. For a second, I just stare down at the beauty she creates just by being there. Her hair fans out around her, a mess of wild, tangled curls against my sheets. As I watch, she grabs the sides of her panties and wiggles out of them. I can’t take my eyes off of her, even after she tosses them to the floor. She does the same with her bra, and she’s completely bared to me.

Her eyes take on a vulnerable sheen. Pulling the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth, she worries it while she stares up at me.

I go to her like I’m caught on a line, sliding toward her on the bed. When I’m hovering above her, I hold my weight and stroke her face with one hand. My hand nearly engulfs her.

“You are so beautiful.” My whisper is ragged, raw. She brings something out of me that I never knew existed. It’s a primal need to show her how important she is…how she’s turned my world into something I barely recognize anymore.

If it weren’t for her, I might still be allowing alcohol to dull my pain. She gives me purpose.

“Baby.” Her arms go around me, pulling me tighter to her warmth. “Is this okay? With me on top?”

When her eyes fly up to meet mine, I know she hadn’t noticed our position, the relevance of it. She stares up at me with something like devotion in her eyes.

Devoted? To me?
It’s a foreign concept. No one has ever been devoted to me. My mother sure wasn’t. The bottle, her next score, was always way more important than raising a young son. My brothers in arms…they respected me, they appreciated me for the fact that I’d die for them and they’d do the same for me. When I rose in rank, they even respected me. But devotion? That’s totally new, and I’m humbled enough by the emotion in her eyes that a lump forms deep in my throat. I dip my head down until my forehead meets hers. Our breaths mingle; we share the same air.

Her whisper breaks me. It puts me back together again.

“I trust you.”

It’s different this time. When I enter her, my entire heart feels the aftermath. Her storm eats me up, it swallows me whole. This woman who has turned my life upside down twice now is undoing me bit by bit, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it if I wanted to.

I don’t want to.

Her body folds around me, her slick heat wrapping me up in comfort and heat and wild, wild energy. She arches, a gasp leaving her lips as I find a rhythm. And then I can’t help but take her hard and fast, because that’s the way we relate to each other best.

“Oh, God. Drake.” Her voice rises, and it’s a sweet, sweet sound.

Her fingernails scrape my flesh, and I plant my head in the soft place between her neck and her shoulder. Nipping at her skin, she moans, and the vibration of it resonates in my cock. I let my lips rest against her throat, and it moves as she swallows hard. The pulse racing just beneath the surface of her skin makes the frantic pace of our bodies that much more intense.

“Mea.” Her name is a prayer.

Her walls start to clench and tighten around me, her inner muscles in furious turmoil. Lifting my head so I can see her like this, like
this
is the best thing that’s ever happened to her, I reach between us and pinch her clit between my fingers.

“Drake!” she screams.

My breath catches in my throat as she comes apart, holding her tighter against me as she shakes and writhes underneath me.