Sea of Dreams (The American Heroes Series Book 2) (9 page)

He laughed. “I can get him out of there in less than two minutes using my wits and bare hands. Want to see?”

She laughed in return, shaking his head. “He’s just some old man,” she waved him off. “You’d scare him to death and probably give him a heart attack.”

Smiling, Beck scratched his head, turning to look at the gully again. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with a homeless guy living down there while you and your girls are living in this big old house all by yourselves,” he looked at her, his smile fading. “Let me go down there and get him out.”

She lifted her eyebrows at him. “And do what with him?” she wanted to know. Then she waved him off.  “We’ll worry about him later. Right now, I want to finish looking at the family wing and then I’ve got an appointment with the real estate agent. Still want to tag along? I can take you back to the base if you’re getting bored.”

He just looked at her, refraining from commenting that she was trying to get rid of him again.  He was coming to see that the repeated comment was making him look insecure and he didn’t like it. So he took a few steps towards her, bent over, and scooped her up into his muscular arms.

“Come along, princess,” he began to head back towards the house. “I don’t want you to twist an ankle on those sky-high shoes.”

Blakesley wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling at him, her face very close to his. “I kind of like this,” she murmured. “I could get used to getting carried around.”

He looked at her, grinning. “If you keep wearing shoes like that, I’m going to have to.”

She giggled. “My closet is full of shoes like this.”

“It’s a miracle you haven’t broken your ankle before now.”

“Maybe. But they look really good, don’t they?”

They went through the back porch and into the kitchen, where he set her carefully on her feet. “They look amazing,” he agreed. “But you’re a gorgeous woman, with or without the shoes.  You could wear a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She smiled bashfully. “Thank you, that’s really sweet,” she said softly, her eyes glimmering at him.  “But I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything. What?”

“Say my name.”

He cocked his head curiously. “Come again?”

“I said I want you to say my name.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never heard you say it.”

He scowled at her, but there was a smile on his face. “Sure I have.”

She shook her head. “No, you haven’t, not since we met yesterday. I want to hear you say it.”

He just looked at her. Then, he put his arms around her, pulling her feminine softness firmly against him. He gazed down into her lovely face, studying the fine lines, acquainting himself with the curve of her pert little nose.  The more time he spent with her, the more he felt himself falling for her, and falling hard.  He couldn’t even throw out a rope to stop himself. He didn’t want to.

“Blakesley,” he whispered.

She gazed up at him, watching his lips as he spoke her name. “You don’t like my name,” she murmured.

He lifted his eyebrows. “Why do you say that?”

“I can just tell. I know it’s a weird name, but it’s a family name on my dad’s side. It was his mother’s name.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s grown on me,” she responded softly, her arms winding up around his neck. “In school, I really hated it so the kids just called me Blake.”

He absolutely melted as her arms went around his neck.  An embrace from her was like nothing he had ever experienced before and he pushed his face into the side of her head, nuzzling her, inhaling deeply the sweet smell of her.

“I think your name is sweet,” he whispered, kissing her ear, her cheek, “but I’ll call you whatever you want me to.”

His mouth found hers, engaging in a heated kiss as tongues plunged deep, tasting, teasing.  Beck was so wrapped up in it that he ended up backing her into a wall, trapping her, his big arms around her, his hands drifting over her arms and back. Blakesley had her arms around his neck, his head, like she was trapping his head against her, and when she sucked on his tongue, Beck nearly lost his mind. With a growl, he picked her up and set her on the kitchen counter.

Blakesley wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as they furiously kissed one another. Beck’s hands were beginning to roam, gaining confidence, as he went from stroking her back and arms to gently cupping her bottom.  When she didn’t stop him, he grew bolder and squeezed, pulling her body up against him, her legs parted and his body wedged in between them even though they were fully clothed.  He sincerely wished, at that moment, that they were not.  He’d never been more attracted to a woman in his life.

His mouth went to her neck, gently but passionately suckling her skin, and a hand began to gently pull back the neckline of her red blouse.  He pulled it off her right shoulder, baring her skin, and his lips suckled and kissed the sweet-smelling flesh.  It was heavenly.  He could hear her grunting with pleasure, her hands on his head, her face in his hair.   He made no move to touch her breasts or grab at them, but he continued to slowly and steadily pull her blouse off her shoulder, exposing the swell of her right breast.  Still, she didn’t stop him.  Beck got bolder.

He hadn’t been with a woman in over four years. Now, he had the woman of his dreams in his hands and he was overwhelmed with desire.  If she wasn’t going to stop him, he wasn’t going to stop, and the blouse was pulled further and further down, exposing her bra.   His mouth was on her cleavage now, that delightful cleavage he had noticed the day he had met her, encased within a sexy pink bikini.  Half of her blouse was pulled down to her waist, her black bra exposed, and very gently, he pulled the bra down her right breast, kissing the flesh as it became exposed bit by bit, until he finally uncovered her breast completely.

Blakesley cried out softly as his hot mouth clamped over a tender nipple.  She began to pull at his uniform, unbuttoning it, and Beck went right along with her.  He wanted her as badly as she wanted him, not stopping to think about the consequences or implications.  All he knew was that he wanted her so much that he couldn’t stop himself from pulling her shirt down around her waist, unhooking the bra and pulling it off her body.   It landed in the old sink.

His uniform was coming off in pieces, the utility jacket followed by the tee shirt underneath.  Naked from the waist up, he threw the jacket on the old adobe floor, lifted Blakesley up by the waist, and deposited her onto her back on the laid-out jacket.  Mouth on her luscious breasts, he unfastened her jeans without any resistance whatsoever. In fact, she was working on his pants and he pulled her jeans off just about the time she unfastened his belt.  Panting, he pulled off her teetering shoes and yanked her jeans off in one clean move.

He was back on her in a flash, her sweet, curvy body drawing his lust like he’d never experienced in his life.  His mouth was on her waist, suckling the flesh, moving the blouse around so he could get to it, while his hands unfastened his pants and lowered them to his knees.   Blakesley was pulling off her underwear, pulling him down to her so hard that he heard her grunt when he fell on top of her.  Trembling, his lips came down on hers, so full of force and passion that he cut her lip on his teeth.  He could taste her blood.

He was between her legs, their bodies naked from the waist down, and his big arousal pushed at her.  Blakesley was panting, crying softly for want of him, her hands moving to his thick erection as she guided him into her.  When he felt her slick, wet heat, he thrust firmly into her, listening to her gasp with wild pleasure.  She was exquisitely tight and hot, and he thrust again, feeling her legs wrap around him and draw him in deeper.  He put a big hand behind her head to protect it from the hard floor while the other slipped under her buttocks, holding her tightly against him as he began to move.

His mouth was on hers, kissing her deeply, as he made love to her on the old adobe floor.  He couldn’t even think that he had just met her. All he knew was that he felt things for her that he had never felt in his life, passion and interest and feelings of attraction that he couldn’t control.  It was more than sex; it was a demonstration of feelings that had completely overwhelmed him.  There was emotion involved, something that started with his tender kisses and ended every time he thrust his big erection into her eager body.  

Blakesley was nearly incoherent with arousal, feeling every move and every touch with the greatest of pleasure.   He was burying himself so deeply in her body that she swore she could feel him touching her womb, the pleasure-pain sensitivity of it quickly driving her towards her release.  She’d never made love like this in her life; nothing had even come close.  Beck was sexy as hell, a spectacular form of a man that she had never seen equaled. But he was also sweet and sensitive and intelligent, and she found the combination wildly attractive. She was feeling something for him, something fast and deep, and the fact that they were having sex without having even known each other a full day didn’t mean anything to her. It was right and she knew it.  She wanted all of him.

Beck’s thrust grew harder, firmer, and he ground his pelvis against her every time he plunged deep.  He suckled her nipples as he thrust, listening to her gasp with pleasure.  It was moving and beautiful and powerful, and after one particularly deep thrust, he felt her orgasm around him, a faint cry of ecstasy peeling from her lips. He continued to make love to her, feeling another orgasm a few moments later. Their lovemaking was reaching frenzied proportions and he could feel his body climaxing.  

He tried to pull out of her but her legs were locked around him, holding him deep, and as he reached around to unwind her legs, he released himself hard.  He grunted, pulling out of her sweet body, letting the last of his orgasm die on her belly.  Still gasping and squirming, Blakesley reached down and gently grasped his erection, stroking it, milking it, feeling him twitch and listening to him groan as she prolonged his pleasure.

Breathing heavily, Beck finally opened his eyes to look down at her.  The sight of her naked body, open to receive him, was enough to cause him to heat up again. He could feel it. He’d never seen anything so spectacular or arousing. He just wanted to hold her. But as he lowered his lips to gently kiss her, she suddenly lifted her hands, with his body fluid on her palms, and laid the back of her hands against her face.   As he watched, she burst into tears.

“Oh, my God,” he hissed, gathering her up, trying to look her in the eye. “Blakesley, I’m so sorry.  I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have… but I thought we were… oh, my God, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.”

She wouldn’t look at him no matter how hard he tried.  She wept deeply. But then she took her hands off her face and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down against her and hugging him tightly.

“It’s… it’s okay,” she struggled to compose herself. “You didn’t do anything wrong.  Don’t apologize.”

He held her snuggly. “Then why are you crying?”

She wiped at her face, her nose, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I guess… I guess it’s because we shouldn’t have done that but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to so badly. Not because I was horny but because… I’m just so attracted to you, Beck.  Everything about you is so wonderful and strong and grounded and… oh, hell, I’m the one who should apologize. I should have stopped you but I didn’t. I was overwhelmed with you.”

He watched her, seeing joy and sorrow and fear.  He kissed her cheeks gently.

“I’m never going to get over this,” he whispered. “If I never touch another woman again as long as I live, I’ll be okay with that because that was pretty much the most amazing experience of my life. I can live on that forever.”

She closed her eyes as his mouth moved over her forehead. It was pure heaven.  “I hope you don’t have to,” she murmured. “I hope I don’t have to.”

He stopped kissing her, taking the time to study her amazing face. “I don’t even know what to say,” he brushed a lock of hair from her face. “The last time I tried to say what I felt, I freaked you out. I’d never get over it if I freaked you out again.”

She smiled, putting her hands on his face and watching him kiss her the backs of her hands. “Then maybe we shouldn’t say anything right now,” she whispered. “Maybe we should just get dressed and get on with the day, and figure this all out later.”

“You don’t think we should talk about it?”

“Not now,” she said softly. “I don’t know about you, but I think… I think I just need to sit on it for awhile.”

He nodded after a moment, not wanting to force her. “Fair enough,” he kissed her again, sensuously, feeling the power of attraction between them rock him down to his toes.  It was difficult to pull away. “You’ve got some art galleries to see.”

She smiled, touching his face one last time, as he pushed himself off of her and pulled her into a sitting position.  Silently, he handed over her under wear and jeans, standing up and turning his back discreetly as he fastened his pants to allow her some privacy.  He could hear her moving around behind him as he picked up his tee shirt and utility jacket, pulling them on as she shuffled around behind him.  He was fastening his jacket when he glanced over his shoulder to see if she was dressed, noting that she was fully clothed and leaning against the counter as she pulled on her shoes. He smiled when their eyes met.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, wiping at her mouth, which was now lip-stick free. “Yes,” she said. “Are you?”

He nodded. “Affirmative.”

She grinned at the very military-sounding reply, gesturing to the back door. “Can you make sure that’s locked? I left my purse out in the living room.”

He nodded, heading back to the door to bolt it, wondering if it would do any good with old Mike running around. He probably knew all the secret ways to get in.  Finished securing the door, he left the kitchen and headed back out into the living room with its thirty foot ceiling and gigantic, plugged fireplace. 

When he got there, Blakesley was fixing her lipstick and touching up her face.  He stood there a moment, watching her, appreciating the allure of a beautiful woman.   He also realized that he felt incredibly attached to her now that he knew her on an intimate level, far more than he could have imagined.  The act of passion in the kitchen had brought his feelings for her to an entirely new level and he still wasn’t over it. It lingered in his mind. It scared him a little.