21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (51 page)

“Fuck it,” he groaned again, released her wrists, and drove into her.

Kim exhaled hard. He filled her, stretching her out in all the right places and seating so deep it melted her restlessness like sugar in the rain. She locked her ankles behind his hips. She didn’t want gentle, and based on the struggle in his face, he didn’t have it in him to give it to her anymore. He drove into her with hard, impatient strokes.

She welcomed the pounding, exulting at each exquisite glide of his cock against her inner walls. Her sex clenched around him, greedily holding on. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, a conqueror this time, mirroring every push of his lower body, driving her toward the blissful edge. With her hands free, she was finally able to let them roam over his body. She explored every ripple of muscle along his back, stroking them as they strained, and when she dug her nails into his ass, he swore and slammed into her harder.

The tension in her middle coiled tighter and tighter. She arched her hips, meeting every pounding thrust and her lungs burned. Oxygen became optional as she clung to him.

“Come,” he ordered, his voice low, and urgent. “I need you to come.”

Understanding that he struggled to hold off his own satisfaction while fulfilling hers burst the dam inside and she spiraled right over the edge. The climax struck her like a tidal wave, and she let out a cry, clinging to him. A second wave of pleasure burst over the first, and he tightened his arms, driving all the way to the hilt until a third wave robbed her of thought and he came with a shout. The tension rippled through him and down, and the waves eddied around her, drenching her in bliss. He collapsed slowly, and they clung to each other, slippery with sweat and sweet release.

He buried his face against her throat, and they panted for air.

“Better?” He asked when his breathing calmed, and she laughed.

He pulled two bottles of cold water out of the mini fridge and trailed a caress along her bare leg with one when he sat back down on the bed.

Kim lifted her head and shot him a dry look. “Not nice.”

Looking at the length of her warm leg, superbly shaped muscle, and her very firm ass, he disagreed. “You said you were hot.”

Unabashed at her nudity, she rolled onto her side and snatched the bottle from his hand. He barely twisted the top off his when she pushed the ice cold bottle against his own ass.

“Damn, that’s cold.” He didn’t flinch, but only barely. Her laughter was reward enough. He tipped the bottle back and nearly drained it. His heart was finally beating a normal rhythm and he didn’t have to pant for air. Yet, every time he glanced at her, his cock stirred again—making its intentions known. It would recover as soon as it was able.

“Thank you.”

The odd sentiment turned him around, and he twisted to meet her gaze. “For what?”

“For not opening it.” She twisted the cap off. “Sounds stupid, but guys do it all the time. It’s sweet and thoughtful—and you are both of those things—but you still let me open my own bottle.”

Stretching out next to her, he flung an arm behind his head and used it for a pillow. “I would have opened it, but you grabbed it out of my hand.” He could have accepted the compliment, but why bother with false platitudes? Kim fascinated him, the layers of vulnerability hidden safely behind impenetrable body armor.

She took a drink, as thirsty as he was from the way her throat convulsed with each swallow. “It’s a bitch sometimes, being female.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to walk into a landmine-laden field without a map and a guide—in fact, why not just go right around it? “I can’t imagine it’s any easier being an agent.”

“You’d be surprised.” She rolled over and leaned against the pillows. Her head was higher than his, but he liked the angle. He liked to see her face when she spoke. He’d ripped away some of the veil she kept over her expressions, and she stared into the distance.

“Shock me.” He ran his fingers over her thigh. Her skin was still warm and flushed from their lovemaking. The musk of sex lingered in the air, underscoring the sweeter fragrance she wore. Odd how he hadn’t even noticed it earlier, too captivated by the power of presence she cultivated. Bare ass naked and flush from sex, she still held him in rapt attention.

“A case doesn’t give a crap who solves it, and most of the time when I’m on an investigation, they don’t see me. They see the badge. Of course being a woman affects it sometimes—some people will tell me more because I’m female and some will tell me less.” She shrugged. “But it’s not maneuvers to see who gets to the door first or who picks up the check, or maybe I want to pick out my own damn wine.”

The chafing at being treated like a lady bothered him. He couldn’t put a finger on why, so he said nothing and tried to look at it from her viewpoint. She was a Marine. She served at least four years, the standard contract, and she didn’t have officer written on her, which meant she took the grunt route—like he did. She worked for NCIS, so she stayed involved even after stepping back from active duty.

Tough. Resourceful. Smart
. The labels all applied. So why chafe at being treated with respect?

“You’re thinking awfully hard down there.” The lines between her brows wrinkled into a frown. “We’re supposed to be having a good time.”

“I am having a good time. I’m getting to know you—just haven’t quite figured it all out.” Rowdy sat and scooted down the bed to grab another water bottle. The fridge only had four when he opened it. He could call room service—again—but he didn’t want any other interruptions. Not to mention they still had food to eat and more exploration to do.

“Figure me out?” The dangerously soft question suggested he reconsider his phrasing.

“Yeah. I like you. I want to do right by you, and I was brought up to show a lady respect. It could be awkward if you’re offended by the same ideas.” He watched her chew the thought over while he drank.

Her expression barely rippled, but one corner of her mouth twitched. “It’s not that it offends me….”

“No? If we walked out right now, would you get upset if I held the door for you?” He finished the second bottle in three full gulps. Dammit, he would have to order some more.

“Probably, but then it would have more to do with being naked than you holding the door.” The logic and her grin combined to unravel his argument and he laughed. Tossing the empty bottle into the trash, he dropped down on the bed next to her and slid a possessive hand around her breast.

“So I think your feminine power argument is bullshit.”

“Yeah?” Her eyebrows lifted.

“Yeah. Okay, if you want to shovel the manure, I’m a big boy. I can take it. But you have something else going on and I want to hear it.” He stroked her nipple, firm little brushes—meant to be more comforting than tantalizing. But the water and the rest did the job. His energy returned.

She sighed and all the amusement in her face evaporated. Looking at the bottle in her hands, indecision shifted in her eyes.

“Sweetheart…I’m serious. You tell me anything you want. I’m a vault, it won’t come back out. But I know a little something about needing a friend. You need one right now.” He pushed. It was in his nature to push, something his superiors reminded him of each time they suggested officer training, but he didn’t want to lead. Knowing how to lead and having a desire to were two different things. But he also knew how to listen and to be a friend.

The silence stretched out and he waited. Her expression rippled, darkening like the storm outside. “You know Camp Whitehorse?”

Everyone knew about Camp Whitehorse. Some stains didn’t get washed out. They didn’t talk about it, and most didn’t fault it. War was hell and it was ugly. He shut down the train of thought and focused on Kim. “Yes.”

“So you know about Nagem Hatab.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a statement, but she glanced at him anyway. He knew the name, an Iraqi implicated in the capture and torture of a female Marine private. His subsequent death and the abuse involved had generated scandal—it was war—war was hell.

He nodded once, waiting.

“It wasn’t the only incident being investigated. Reports of—of others came to light during a different investigation.” She sighed and started to roll away from him, but he locked his arm and pinned her. Anger flared in her eyes, but he met it steadily.

“Not going anywhere. You don’t want to talk about it—you don’t have to.”

“It’s not about want—it’s about can’t. It’s an ongoing investigation. Legally, I can’t really comment on it.”

He dragged her back toward him and wrapped his arms around her. It was awkward—her body stiffened— but gradually she relaxed. He rubbed her shoulder gently. “Investigating Marines has to suck.”

“Yep.” One word, but so ripe with meaning. She traced a path along his arm with one nail. “Sometimes, it sucks worse than others. I don’t mind busting idiots who think running drugs is a good idea or boosting cars—or my personal favorite—importing liquor and cigarettes.”

He coughed. Sneaking cigarettes now and then wasn’t as unusual as one might expect. She glanced at him and he pasted on an innocent smile. Laughter bubbled through the stern expression and her body loosened, softening and cuddling against him.

Better
.

“I’m not going to ask,” she promised.

“I’m not going to tell.” He winked.

The rain continued to hammer against the windows outside and she sighed deeper. “I like this,” she said, her voice hushed as though she worried about disturbing him.

“Me, too.” And he did, he liked having her leg tucked between his, and her body wrapped up tight. He liked not being alone. “Not going to bore you with some poor little rich boy story, but I’ve got options a lot of the guys in my unit don’t. So when they gave me the letter, I had to think about who it might benefit if I left—you know making room for those who don’t have choices they can make.”

“But you don’t want out.” Again, it wasn’t a question and he pressed a kiss to her temple. Her mind was a beautiful thing.

“No. Not really.”

She turned in his arms, shifting until he reclined back against the pillows and she could lay with her arms and hands on his chest, staring at him. It wasn’t as nice as holding her close, but he appreciated the eye contact.

“Then don’t.”

Good advice. Advice he’d considered and discarded the same night he received the letter. They needed to trim back to the active force—lots of guys left for injuries or at the end of their contracts. Lots couldn’t afford to go home to climbing costs in an economy that didn’t promise them a job. He didn’t have those worries. Financially, he could actually afford to be out of work. So, better it be him than a buddy with a wife, two kids, and a mortgage. He could take the hit for his men.

“It’s not so simple.” He would never allow it to be simple.

“It never is.” She bit her lip and it took about a decade of dilemma off her shoulders. He could imagine her as a young Marine, full of piss and vinegar and ready to take on the world. She could probably shoulder the world better now, ripe with experience and tempered by time. But he preferred the smile to the frown—the sharp, albeit acerbic, wit to the consternation and struggle. “The worst part of this investigation is I know one of the guys—personally.”

It was a fight to keep his tone calm.
How personally did she know him
? “Can you recuse yourself?”

“If it really becomes an issue—yes. Right now—I have a senior agent overseeing it. If it becomes one, we agreed he will step in and take the lead.” But she obviously didn’t want to surrender the case or worse, need to surrender it. There it was—the rock and a hard place.

“It pisses you off.” He couldn’t help the wonder in his voice, and the flash of annoyance on her face was cute—not that he planned to tell her anytime soon.

“Hell yes, it pisses me off.” Passion erupted and she started to rise. He pinched her ass and she collapsed against him.

“Stop trying to get away. We’re comfortable, naked, and I’m planning to lick my way down your body after our little get to know each other
tête-à-tête
.” He pressed a kiss to her slack lips, and her laughter vibrated through him. Her tongue tangled with his, and his cock gave a twitch. Oh yeah, he was definitely rested enough to start planning round two.

She broke away and dipped her head down to kiss his chest. “It pisses me off because it makes me feel weak—like I need someone to do my job.”

He appreciated her honesty and really hoped she didn’t blow up at him when he tucked his legs around hers and secured his position. “Well, I’m sorry, but that is just stupid.”

Had he seriously called her stupid? Narrowing her eyes, she studied his too-calm expression. “What?”

“You heard me. That’s stupid.” Repeating it didn’t endear the word to her further nor did the kiss he pressed to the tip of her nose. “Come on. You’re stubborn, but you’re brilliant, too. Work through everything you told me and tell me you don’t think being pissed off because a senior agent has your back is dumb.”

The word grated, but she compressed her lips and considered his words. The senior agent hadn’t said she couldn’t pursue the investigation. He hadn’t tried to talk her out of it. He asked her three, salient, pointed questions and then ordered her to run all her reports through him for review. The first order didn’t bother her as much as the second. “
If you discover a conflict—don’t care what it is or why you feel it—just tell me and I’ll take it from there. No questions asked
.”

Rowdy’s eyebrows raised, his expression daring her to deny his words. She opened her mouth to refute it, but the words wouldn’t come out.

He leaned a little closer. “I’m sorry, what?”

The snicker escaped before she could contain it. “You must drive your commanding officers batshit crazy with your attitude.”

“Nah, they love me.” He grinned. “But I’m right—aren’t I?”

“Yes.” She sighed and relaxed into his embrace. He never let her go, never let her push him away or shut him out. Odd, less than three hours acquaintance and he had her number. Scary, too.