Once Her Man, Always Her Man (1 Night Stand Series) (4 page)

“Becca….” His tone shifted, wary. She tore away, ignoring her body’s lonely cry as she tumbled onto the passenger seat. She grabbed the door handle and jerked it open, all but falling out of the truck.

He was out the driver’s side door and circling around even as she found her shoes and her purse. The cold night air provided the bracing reality check she needed against the wild desire riding hard through her body.

“Becca, wait.”

“The hell I will.” Fury pounded in her temples, mingling with her aggravated desire and frustrated need. “That wasn’t feeling sorry for you, you…you…jerk.” She punched her finger at his chest. “That was me loving you.” He took one step back as her finger jabbed him again. “That was me reaching out to you.”

Another jab. Another step back.

“That was me wanting you.” She jabbed him one more time. “I have never felt sorry for you. I grieved with you. I hurt with you. I missed you until I thought my heart would wither and die. But I have never pitied you.”

She whirled, fueled by eleven years of loneliness and betrayal. She had no idea where the hell they’d parked, but she couldn’t stay there.
Not for this
. Not when her love bled like a raw wound, the stitches she’d knitted around her broken heart tearing loose.

“Becca, I love you.”

And now he has to go and say that
.

Chapter Four

Luke clenched his fists, forcing himself to wait. If he touched her again, they would be in the bed of his truck and he’d be driving away all his good intentions as he thrust into her hot, sweet, willing body. He’d called himself a fool for stopping her. The first, sweet taste of her lips in over a decade, and time turned back to high school.

No, not high school—home.

Home
. For the first time since he walked out of the damn park, he’d come home. Too much between them to not do this right, to not answer the questions that he’d left burning between them.

No way would he walk away this time, but she deserved every opportunity he’d denied her. Her fury was a beautiful thing. Her swollen lips glistened, her face flushed, and her eyes sparked. His radiant Rebecca, so righteous in her fury.

“Babe, I love you.” He repeated slowly, watching the slim line of the back she’d turned on him. Again. He knew every inch of her, not as intimately as he might like, but he used to be an expert in her expressions, body language, and soul. He might be rusty, but he trusted his instincts. She didn’t run.

Not now
.

“What do you want from me?” Pain wrenched through every word.

It’s now or never, Dexter. Man up, Marine
.

“I want to tell you about the worst day of my life.” Not an eloquent man, he couldn’t even pretend. But Becca needed truth. She needed honesty. If it hurt him, then he deserved the stripes on his soul for every injury, real or imagined, he’d inflicted on her.

The park had been redubbed President George Bush Park in 2005, but it would always be Preston Park to him. Still the place he met his girlfriend to break her heart.

And mine
.

Her shoulders lifted, her head tilted upward. She sucked in a noisy breath of air, exasperation taut in the expression she turned back toward him. Standing there, stocking feet on the hard asphalt, spiky heels in one hand, purse in the other, rumpled dress, and disheveled hair, she seemed both patient and pissed.

God, I love her
.

“I’m listening.” If that was the best she had to offer, he’d take it.

“Get back in the truck so you’re not cold?” He tacked the question mark on as an afterthought, but when her eyebrows rose, he backed off. He could warm her feet up when they finished.

“Mom died. Brianna died. Dad went away. I was pissed. Angrier than I’ve ever been about anything. I wanted to do something about it. The Marines offered me a way to not only avenge them, but to honor them, too. I can’t even tell you when the idea entered my head.” He fought for neutrality. He didn’t like explaining himself to anyone. But she isn’t just anyone, she’s the only one.

“I told Dad I wanted to apply and he drove me down to the recruiter. I talked to the guy for an hour and then I signed the papers. I applied for my GED the same day. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I thought it wasn’t fair to you to put that decision on your plate. I didn’t think it was right that I was taking your last year of high school down the drain with mine. I couldn’t protect Mom or Brianna, but I could protect you.”

He dared to look at her and the haughty distance in her expression melted. “You didn’t have to protect me….”

“The hell I didn’t. You were putting everything on hold to look after us. You were at the house every night, cooking dinner, sitting with Dad. Hell, you were even doing the laundry. You were my sanctuary and I wanted to lose myself with you, but if I’d told you I was going, you would have supported it, packed me up and waited. Sat here, waiting for me.” He dared her to disagree with him. But the mutinous expression answered without words. Yes, she would have waited, and he wouldn’t have stopped thinking about her.

“But babe, before you start hating me for not wanting you to wait for me, that wasn’t it…that wasn’t it at all. I wanted to marry you, I wanted to fill you with babies, but I was an eighteen- year old kid with a GED and a hate on for Al Qaida, heading off to the Marines where I was pretty sure I was going to get myself busted up. I wanted more for you than that.”

“You are such an idiot.” She flung her shoes down and he counted himself lucky she didn’t throw them at him. He took a step forward, edging back into her space.

“Yes, I was. But I was a kid. A kid who was stupid in love. A kid who would have been stupid if all I ever thought about was you. If you were here, I didn’t think I could leave you. Making you hate me was the coward’s way out, but I thought you would be better off, you could meet a guy, marry him, have a dozen babies.” Bile crawled up his throat at the idea of some other guy touching her, holding her, loving her. Worse, the sourness at the idea that she might love this faceless, nameless bastard that Luke would have throttled.

“So it was easier to just dump me? To walk away? To say nothing?”

“Yeah. After, I couldn’t take it back. Then your letters came.”

Her sharp, indrawn breath stabbed him in the gut. “You got them.”

“I have every single one that you wrote.” The first one arrived while at basic—the flowing script cutting him. He’d worn away the return address on the first one, stroking a thumb over it. “But I couldn’t open them. I had to make the break clean.”

“Why? Why would it have been so awful to know I was here for you? That I would wait, support you in any way I could? Why wouldn’t you let me be there for you?” She took a step toward him.

“Because I was scared, Becca. Scared that I’d get out there and the only thing I would do is think about you, get killed, and leave you grieving. At least, I told myself, if I did buy it over there, you wouldn’t be mourning me. You’d have a great life and it was all I had to give then.”

If he could go back to his eighteen-year-old self, he’d thump him hard. His dad even agreed with his decision, but in retrospect, his father didn’t see much point to civilian life and love anymore. He turned all Marine, all the time, after their loss.

“But I kept the letters. When I deployed, my base commander kept them and shipped them over in bulk. They went everywhere with me. I promised myself when I came home for good, I’d read them then. I’d read them and see the life you’d built for yourself.”

“And have you?” She stood directly in front of him then, staring up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Nope. I wanted to, but I had the idea for Mike’s Place and I guess I came back here because I wanted to be close to you. Told myself I’d get Mike’s Place started and then I’d read them.”

“You were never going to read them, Luke Dexter.” Exasperated amusement, not censure, filtered through her words.

“I’m an ass, Becca. I’m an ass who loved you too much to hold onto you. But I’m not ass enough to walk away this time. I’m right here. I’ll do whatever penance you want, I’ll get on my knees if you need me too, and I’ll crawl the rest of my life if that’s what it takes to prove it to you.” The text-messaged words echoed in his mind. They were the right words. “Life doesn’t always offer second chances and I sure as sh—heck don’t deserve one, but….”

He hesitated. He wasn’t pleading his case really well. Hell, he didn’t even know if she had some jackass in her life. He considered the way she’d crawled into his lap and the lack of ring on her finger and he’d bet he could push the imaginary boyfriend out without a hell of a lot of effort.

Rebecca blew a breath up at the hair tumbling in her eyes. She turned back toward the truck and his heart squeezed. He’d blown it. Somewhere in that muddied, dumbass explanation he’d shot his chance to hell. But instead of getting in the truck, she tossed her purse inside and pivoted to race across the six feet separating them.

He braced, catching her as she slammed into him. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her arms around his neck and then she kissed him. He devoured her mouth, meeting her eager tongue with his own. She was soft and curvy beneath the dress. His hands closed over her bottom, kneading it through the material. She’d always been soft.

But her girlish figure was beautifully rounded now. In the hind part of his brain, he recognized she’d put on weight, but it filled out all the right parts of her body. The woman in his arms was like a live grenade and his body was the clip. Her mouth moved to his jaw and when her teeth bit down on his throat, he laughed. Her greedy little mouth always left hickeys.

God, I hope she leaves one right now
.

“Make love to me, Luke.” The words lodged next to his heart, shoving away the last barricade to the past.

“It’s a thirty minute drive to the house,” he groaned. His cock was so hard, he regretted the fit of his dress pants. “But I think we can make it in fifteen.”

“No.” She leaned back, trusting her weight to his hands, her fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He needed a haircut.

And a shave.

And a shower.

And some roses.

Hell, he needed a
lot
of roses.

Wait, did she just say
no?

“Babe?” The word came out on a harsh exhale.

“No. No driving, no house, no waiting. Right now. Right there.” She jerked her thumb toward the truck. “You have a blanket in the back seat.”

His body revved at the thought. “But sweetheart, it’s
cold
.”

“So, you don’t think you can warm me up, Marine?” Her lips twitched into a saucy smile and rusty laughter wheezed out of him. Yeah, he could warm her up. He strode toward the truck, every step bumping her hips with his, teasing the hell out of him. He would die if he didn’t get her clothes off.

She started to slide down and he squeezed her ass, pressing her against him. His cock swelled further. “Uh uh. No moving, missy. I got this.”

Her mouth closed on his earlobe and pleasure zinged through him. He one armed open the back door, grabbed his go pack and tossed the whole lot into the bed of the truck. Two rolled blankets followed.

“You came prepared.” Silky amusement colored the voice whispering in his ear and Luke shoved the door shut and carried her around to the back. One click and the gate opened. A hard look around the area revealed they were very much alone and no cameras pointed at the truck. Satisfied, he hoisted her up and followed, barely letting her slide away as she scooched to grab the blankets.

They tripped over each other, laughing as they spread the blankets out. Her fingers went back to the buttons on his shirt and he searched for whatever the hell held her dress together. “Strip, Marine.” The amused arousal thickened her voice.

“Yes ma’am.”

She inched back, peeling out of her dress and his tongue had to be hanging out as the dress vanished, leaving only creamy pale skin, full breasts and hard nipples peeking over the top of two scraps of lace she’d tied together to make a bra. Her pantyhose came next and joined his shirt, belt and pants. His shoes and socks were an afterthought, but he could only stare at the long length of her tanned legs and the scraps of pale skin around her barely-there panties.

“You are so damn beautiful.” And she was. He had to slow down before he embarrassed himself and came inside his shorts.

“Stop talking, Marine. The action’s right here.” The teasing quirk to the corner of her mouth, the spark in her eyes—this was his Rebecca. All fiery passion, spitfire and love.

So much damn love
.

“Are you sure? I know I made a mess of that apology and you have every right to….”

She surged up from the blanket, meeting him breast to chest, her fingers covering his mouth. “Shh…it’s always been you. Always. I never wanted anyone else. I thought I got past it, I was over it and I was moving on. But every guy who ever asked me out, I measured against you and they all came up short. I. Love. You.” She punctuated the last three words with a kiss, her cool fingers stroking over his chest.

He knew the moment she found the scars. A burn from a fight in Kandahar. A cluster of three puckered scars from bullets in Kabul. A thick slash from shrapnel in a city he couldn’t remember. Her gaze shifted down and her lips trailed down his jaw to his chest. She stroked each scar gently, before laving her tongue over them. Each touch of her lips added balm to the deeper scars, the ones stretching into his soul.

“We wasted so much time. Please don’t make me wait anymore, Luke.”

He groaned. He could deny her nothing. He tugged her upward, catching her mouth with his. He bit down on her lower lip and shifted her until she lay down against the rough blanket. He barely noticed the scratchy and durable fabric as he took his own time kissing down to her chest. Her bra unhooked in the front, a thought he was vaguely glad for or he would have just ripped it off.