She saw me first series, p.23
She Saw Me: First Series, page 23
“I’ll take that large rose bouquet too,” I say before moving out and grabbing them and one of the tiny cards.
“Roses, hmm,” he says with a smile.
“The woman did get hurt,” I point out.
“Well, I think a lady always appreciates a nice bouquet,” he tells me with a wink, and I have to fight not to look away. I don’t need more rumors spreading.
“Thanks, Ethan. You have a great night.” I quickly grab my bags and flowers and flee the store. Maybe I don’t care if rumors are spread about Lexa and me. Maybe I want to officially mark her as my woman. I’m not even sure anymore.
I speed down the road to Lexa, wearing a smile the entire time. I’m in serious trouble . . . this I know for sure. This woman has me wrapped around her little finger and she doesn’t even know it . . . and even more scary is the fact that I don’t mind.
When I walk in her door with the bags and flowers in my hand, she beams at me, her eyes lighting up, and my body tingles. I smile back at her. Yes, I’m sunk for sure, because my heart just skipped an extra beat at the sparkle in her eyes.
Mine. I want this woman to always be mine.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dillan
Twenty-Eight Years Old
My wounds aren’t even close to being the worst any soldier has endured, but enough to get me medically discharged from the Navy. I lay in the hospital for a couple of weeks where it was touch and go after an infection developed. But I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m walking out . . . well, limping out. I’m assured there’s an eighty percent chance I’ll lose the limp within a year if I exercise properly. I can’t push it too much or too little. The too much will be my downfall. Running is my therapy.
I’m not sure what I’ll do with my life now that I’m out of the military. I don’t have a home to go to. I have almost a million dollars in my bank account as I never spend money. I don’t need to. I live on base, eat on base, and am clothed on base. I don’t have a family, and I don’t have hobbies. Everything I need is at the base even though I’m not here most of the time as I volunteer for every mission . . . or I did until now.
Ten years of my life are suddenly over and I’m not sure what I’ll do next. I don’t even know what I want to do. The first thing to do is to rent a place. I can’t buy something . . . that locks me in. I don’t think I can commit to a house or a town. Maybe I’ll travel. I sure as hell love riding bikes. It’s one of the few things I’ve bought in the last ten years, and man is she a dream. She rides fast and can go all night long if I need her to.
My team throws me a party, but I hate goodbyes. Will I stay in contact with them? I don’t think I can handle it. I’ve told myself through the years I wouldn’t get close to them, but I have. Saying goodbye sucks. When I walk out the door, there are lots of assurances that we’ll stay in touch . . . it’s just words and we all know it.
Others have come and gone. When they’re out of the military, they’re out. It simply hurts too much to have one foot in the door and one out. There are contractor jobs I could take, but I don’t think that’s my new path.
I get a small apartment in Oregon, the place I ran to at the age of fourteen. Something about this state calls me home. I’m not sure what. I only know it’s where I want to start. But it might not be where I’ll land when all is said and done.
I’m in Bend, Oregon when I get a special delivery in the mail. It’s from a Thomas with no last name and no return address. I don’t recognize the name. I open the envelope and wonder what in the hell is going on as I see a cashier’s check for twenty-five million dollars. What in the actual hell? This has to be a prank. I smile. Good one guys. I pull out the letter to read it, thinking of my team I haven’t seen in months.
Dear Mr. Scott,
I’m sure seeing this check is going to come as a shock to you, but I’ve had my people keeping an eye on your entire team for several years. The reason for this is you were on a mission and saved my daughter’s life. My granddaughter and my daughter’s husband were unfortunately killed. However, you brought my daughter home to me. There are no words to say how much this means to me. She’s my only child and the panic I felt when I found out she’d been taken will haunt me to my dying day. I had to wait for you to be out of the Navy before giving this to you. It’s only a fraction of my appreciation for what you did for my family. You will forever have my gratitude. Thank you for your service. My daughter took a long time to heal, and I don’t know if she’ll ever be fully trusting again, but she smiles now and then these days. She also has another child, though she will forever mourn the loss of her firstborn. Thank you for bringing her home, for risking your life for ten years, and for being the man you are.
Sincerely,
Thomas
I’m shocked as I reread the letter twice. This could be real. I don’t remember the woman’s first name, let alone her last. I did a lot of rescues, but the one where the little girl died will forever haunt me. I know which woman he’s talking about. I’ve tried many times to push her from my mind, but it will never happen. It was too horrific. I’m glad she made it, I’m glad she has a loving father she went home to.
I set the envelope with the check in my drawer as I try to decide what to do with it. Is it okay for me to deposit it in my bank? Should I be paid extra for simply doing my job?
After a month, I receive another letter from Thomas. He noticed I didn’t cash the check. He says he won’t stop until I do. He needs me to accept the gift, assuring me he’s a billionaire and twenty-five million is nothing to him. When the rest of my team leave the Navy they’ll receive their checks as well.
I decide to accept. I’m not sure what I’ll do with the money, but I don’t want to keep thinking about that rescue mission, and if I don’t cash it, he’ll keep writing. He’s obviously able to find me even if I’m in a rental. The man must have power. He also doesn’t give me a way to contact him, which tells me he wants this debt he believes he owes to be paid so he can let go of my team and he and his daughter can move on.
The money goes through after I deposit the check, and then it sits in my account. I’m still unsure of what comes next. Until I figure it out, I settle for tequila and solitude. That’s all I really need. I’m not happy, but I’m not miserable . . . I’m simply lost . . .
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lexa
It’s been a month since Bob showed up. I was right; he was out of jail in a week, longer than I assumed he’d be there. But I have a restraining order against him, and he’s in Chicago where he has to at least check in before leaving the city . . . for now. It’s odd because I’m not afraid.
Sure, he might come after me again; I can’t control the actions of others. I can control how I react to them though. I choose not to be afraid. I choose to live my life. I’m happy, very happy, and I won’t let anything bring me down. I’ve lived too much of my life afraid to allow another day of feeling that way.
Chance is on a youth weekend with the church and I’m alone for the first time in fifteen years. He’s never had an overnighter before with friends. I’m not really sure how that’s happened, but it has. I’m a little nervous about him being gone, but he’s safe, he’s with a great group of people, and he’ll have a wonderful time. I’ll miss him . . . but I can do anything I want in the house . . . with a certain sexy man.
I sent him a message earlier, telling him it’s my turn to cook. I’ve known about the youth trip for a month so I put in for Friday night off. I told Dillan to take off a little early. It’s almost ten and I’ve been cooking all day. I want to make this special for him. I want to tell him without words what he means to me.
The house smells amazing when he knocks on the cabin door at a quarter til ten. Maybe he’s just as excited for tonight as I am. Yes, I’ve spent many nights with him after Chance goes to sleep, but this is different. This feels like a relationship kind of thing to do.
“I don’t know what smells better . . . you or the food,” he says as he moves behind me, one hand sliding around my side before slipping beneath my shirt and clasping onto my breast while leaning down and kissing my neck. Oh yes, now my night’s perfect.
“I don’t mind smelling good, but after cooking for hours, you better not get me all hot and bothered and let this food go to waste,” I warn, although I’m leaning back against him, not in a hurry to escape from his strong hold.
His tongue slides over my neck as he slips his fingers inside the lacy edge of my bra and rubs my nipple. I groan as he starts sucking on my skin. He pulls his hand away, turns me, pushing me against the counter as his head descends, and takes my lips in a hard kiss.
“I’m so hooked on you I can’t stand it when you’re gone,” he tells me after wrenching his mouth away, his eyes on fire.
“Good. Because it seems to be a mutual thing,” I say with a husky groan. He bends and licks my lips before kissing me even harder. My arms reach up and I hold his head to me as I give as much as he takes.
I quickly forget all about the meal I prepared as I’m lost in his embrace. It’s always this way with us. The tension is so tight, it constantly feels as if a bomb is ready to explode. Even after months of being together, the desire never dims. Can it last forever? It doesn’t appear to be going away anytime soon.
He pulls away and I suck on my bottom lip as I pout. He gives me a satisfied grin. “You love making me suffer, don’t you?” I ask huskily.
He runs his thumb across my bottom lip, making it pop back out. “I love making you want me,” he says. He then pulls back, taking a few extra steps because it’s nearly impossible for either of us to control ourselves when we’re within touching distance.
“You don’t have to do anything to make me want you. It’s impossible to keep my hands . . . or other body parts, off you,” I tell him.
His eyes flare, but he doesn’t grab me again. Maybe this dance is all a part of the adventure, and we both like the torture before the storm.
“What can I do to help? I want to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared . . . and then I want to take my time with dessert,” he says with a wink.
“Oh, I have dessert covered,” I tell him.
His eyes trail over me as his gaze darkens even more. “Always assume I’m covering dessert,” he says. I laugh huskily, knowing exactly where his mind went. We’re in the gutter together. Tonight is mine, though, and as much as I love relinquishing control to him, I have something to prove to myself this evening.
“You can set the table. Everything’s ready,” I tell him as I move to the oven and pull out the taco casserole I’ve made. I set it on a hot plate on the table, then move to the fridge and pull out the salad and dressing. He grabs a bottle of chilled wine, and we go to the table together.
I can’t say if my meal tastes good or not as I eat as fast as I can. I’ve prepared the meal, and now I want it over. I want to get to the part where my body’s set on fire . . . as only this man can do. He has me in the palm of his hand, and I have no desire to escape.
We make small talk as we clean up. He tries to grab me again, but I back away from him. He frowns, making me smile more. I pull a blanket from the closet and lay it over the table. This time he gives me a confused look that makes me chuckle.
“Dessert time,” I say, barely able to contain myself.
“I told you I’ll handle dessert,” he says as he takes another step toward me. I shake my head and he stops.
“Be a good boy and do what you’re told,” I say with an assured smile. I’m confident with him. He’s brought something out in me I never imagined possible. I have so much to be thankful for when it comes to him.
“I’ll play,” he says. It must be the gleam in my eyes that makes him capitulate.
“Good, I want you to strip off all of your clothes . . . then lie on the table,” I say, my voice dropping a few octaves as fire burns through me.
He raises a brow. “I much prefer for you to strip me,” he says, seeming unsure if he wants to play this game with me.
“Too bad,” I tell him. “I’m in charge tonight. Strip down and lie on that blanket,” I demand.
He chuckles, though the flames burn hotter as he lifts off his T-shirt, showing his magnificent chest. Damn, I love that I’m the one who gets to touch him, taste him, and make him scream. Mine. He’s mine, all mine . . . maybe for as long as I want . . . which could be forever.
I shake my head to clear those thoughts. They vanish in an instant as he unbuttons the front of his jeans, showing me that sweet, beautiful happy trail that leads to the gold at the end of a rainbow.
He sweeps off his jeans and boxers in one push and his beautiful thickness springs out, making my mouth water. It should be a sin for a man to look and taste so good. It gives him way too much power . . . although I don’t mind right now.
His lips turn into a crooked smile as he turns, exposing his fine ass before he climbs on the table, looking far less sure of this part of the game. He sits on the blanket and I move to him, finally touching his hot skin as I push. He lowers himself, lying down, his hardness standing up. I run my finger down the length of him, then practically purr as moisture drips from his tip. I have to fight not to lean over and lick it.
Instead I move to the counter and reach into the drawer where I have my supplies ready. He looks suspicious as I return, holding a silky black scarf.
“What’s this for?” he asks.
“It’s all part of dessert,” I tell him. I reach up and place it over his eyes when his hand lifts, his fingers curling around my wrist.
“I don’t think so,” he says with a growl.
“Then neither of us will get a sugary treat,” I warn, my voice flirty but firm. I want this . . . I need this.
He looks in my eyes for several heartbeats, then sighs as he releases his grasp. The trust he’s giving me means more than anything else he’s done. I need this control, need to know how much I can trust him . . . and know that he trusts me.
I secure the scarf, my body trembling as I gaze at the perfect male before me. I can do anything I want with him right now. It’s a euphoric feeling, lifting me higher than I’ve flown before. I quickly strip away my clothes, wanting to be ready at the end of this game to slide on top of him with nothing in our way.
I grab the chocolate syrup and drizzle some on his lips, down his neck, over his nipples, across the hard planes of his stomach, and letting some pour over his throbbing hardness. He gasps as the syrup runs across him, and his fists clench together, but he isn’t fighting anymore.
I squirt whip cream along the chocolate trail I’ve just created, pouring a little extra around the base of his erection before I set it aside. I climb onto the table and he reaches for me, but I push his hand away.
“I love a good sundae,” I say before leaning down and kissing him, swiping my tongue across his lips, the chocolate goodness adding to the sweet taste in my mouth. He groans as he reaches for me again. I push his hands away once more.
“Do I need to tie you down?” I huskily ask.
He groans. “Not a chance, but our next adventure will have you tied to my bed for sure,” he warns.
My body heats at these words and makes me wonder if something is wrong with me. I’ve been abused so the thought of him tying me up shouldn’t send such a thrill through me . . . but it does. Maybe because I trust him. There’s no chance Dillan will ever hurt me, which means any game we might play will only lead to pleasure . . . so much pleasure.
I lick my way down his chin, eating the chocolatey, creamy mixture that’s melting on his hot skin, sucking and licking every drop of it up. I take my time on his hard nipples, making both of us groan at how much I love touching him, and how much he likes the feel of my mouth on his skin.
I move lower, trailing my lips and tongue down his quivering stomach. I still haven’t tasted his throbbing arousal. It’s always good to save the best for last. Everything before my most favorite part of his body is simply the appetizer. The orgasmic blast still awaits.
I scoot off the table and grip the blanket and tug, bringing his ass to the edge, making his legs fall over. He tries to sit up and I hold out a hand against his stomach, keeping him down. He’s more vulnerable than he’s ever been before with me.
He lies back with a moan, and tears sting my eyes at how much I care about him. Is it okay to think the love word? I know the pain he’s been through. For him to give his entire self over to me means more than any gift he could ever give.
I pull up the cushioned chair and kneel on it, bringing my head right where I want it. I move down and slowly swirl my tongue all along his tightened sack as I suck and lick every drop of chocolate and cream from his skin while he moans and his hardness pulses against his stomach.
I finally sweep my tongue along his beautiful shaft, sucking, nibbling, and licking every drop of sweetness from him. I do this over and over again as I circle him, leaving the best for last. He’s moving beneath me, trying to reach for me before I push him away and continue nibbling and sucking all around him.
“Please, Lexa,” he groans with so much need it makes my core pulse with the desire to give him everything he’s ever wanted . . . and so much more.
I circle my lips around his hard head, and he moans deep and guttural as I suck the last of my delicious dessert from him. I wrap my fingers around his shaft and pump as I suck hard, tasting his dripping pleasure on my tongue.
“Stop,” he demands, but I push harder, needing to make him come with an explosion strong enough to bring the entire house down.
I take him deeper, his tip brushing my tonsils as I suck hard. He lets out a cry of pleasure as his entire body tenses and he explodes, his pleasure coating my tongue and throat as he releases wave after wave into my mouth.
