Touch Me

Touch Me

By Callie Croix

Arriving home on leave from his tour of duty, Army Captain Alex Montoya knows there’s a beautiful woman waiting for him—his best friend’s sister. She’s always been off limits…until now. He fully intends to move them out of being “just friends” and encourage her to release the sexual needs he senses she’s buried deep.

Tianna McIntyre is starting over after her marriage ended. Her ex-husband weakened her self-esteem and caused her to deny her true sexual desires. But being around Alex brings all her dormant fantasies to the surface, and now Tianna feels the stirrings of her secret, submissive wishes.

Determined to help repair the damage Tianna’s ex did to her self-worth, Alex will use whatever means necessary to convince her they’re meant for each other, including tying her down to make sure he has her full attention while he takes her to the heights of pleasure she’s always dreamed of…

22,000 words

Dear Reader,

In 2012, we’re committed to bringing you an even wider variety of stories. With our January releases, we celebrate the diversity of the genres Carina Press has to offer. We’re publishing books across a variety of romance and non-romance genres, including mystery, cyberpunk, fantasy, male/male romance, paranormal romance, contemporary romance, science fiction, historical romance and more.

I hope you’ll try a book in a different genre and spread the word to your friends and family that Carina Press is a destination publisher for quality books across genres.

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Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Epilogue

About the Author

“Alex?”

In the midst of taking off his other combat boot, Captain Alex Mendoza froze at the sound of that familiar feminine voice. Bracing for the sight of the woman who’d been staying at his house while he was deployed overseas, he lifted his head and swiveled to look at her in the dimness.

In the faint light coming through the tall windows overlooking his backyard, Tianna McIntyre stood on the staircase, her honey-colored hair tumbling around her shoulders. She wore some sort of dark satin robe that hit midthigh, leaving her pale, well-toned legs bare to his gaze. A flimsy belt tied it closed around her waist, and he could see the outline of her full breasts pushing against the shiny material. His tongue pressed hard against the roof of his mouth, and his dick hit the back of his zipper.

As he stared at her, one of her graceful hands fluttered to the deep-V neckline, modestly holding the edges together. “Hi.” Her voice was soft and husky from sleep. She’d obviously just climbed out of bed.

Ignoring the twinge in his healing shoulder as he straightened and faced her, he smiled. “Hey, Tia.”

“I didn’t know you were coming back—” Her smile faded as her eyes focused on the white gauze bandages covering his left forearm beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his desert cammies. They went all the way up his arm. “What happened?” she gasped, and rushed down the stairs.

“Just some shrapnel. I’m okay though.” The thought of touching her made the muscles along his spine stiffen when she approached, but she didn’t try to hug him. She simply took his left forearm in her practiced hands and examined the bandages before looking up at him.

“How bad is it?” Her dark brown eyes were filled with worry.

“Not bad. I was lucky.” Unlike the other two men seated beside him in the vehicle when they’d hit the IED. Those horrific images were forever burned into his memory.

She frowned, as though she didn’t believe him. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Took the blast on my left side, so there’s more in my shoulder and my back’s bruised up. Healing well though.” It was true, and he couldn’t figure out why the army thought it necessary to send him all the way home for two weeks. They’d decided his injuries and possible PTSD were reason enough for mandatory stress leave, but he hadn’t left voluntarily. He still had men in the field back over there who needed him.

Tia’s espresso eyes met his, and he felt an unwelcome punch of heat in his lower belly. This was his best friend’s twin sister he was ogling, but somehow his brain didn’t care and wouldn’t let him forget she was newly single. Available.

And standing practically naked before him, her gorgeous curves and creamy skin hidden by millimeter-thick satin.

You’re the last thing she needs right now. Another wounded soldier.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He clenched his hands into fists to keep from stroking a lock of hair from her cheek and forced a smile. “Sure as I can be.”

Some of the tension left her face, but she hesitated when she released his arm. “Can I hug you?”

Her tentative tone made him grin. He’d always loved her hugs, and her obvious concern touched him. “’Course you can.” He slid his arms around her and gathered her up against his chest, despite the twinge of protest from the stitches in his shoulder and upper arm. The thin satin robe was cool beneath his palms, but the heat from her skin came through it, burning him, infusing the air with her scent. Something tropical, like a mix of lime and coconut. Delicious.

Hands at his lower back, she held him close and buried her face against his good shoulder, exhaling hard. He frowned at the slight tremor that rolled through her and upped the pressure of his hold. “I’m okay,” he repeated.

She nodded, pulled in an unsteady breath.

Her lush breasts pressed against him through the robe, confirming his suspicions that she was bare beneath it. She must have been naked in bed when she’d heard him open the front door. The thought made him want to groan and slide his hands into that deep neckline to feel the weight of her warm, full breasts in his palms.

She stroked his back gently, as though afraid of hurting him, and laid her head against his chest with a sigh.

Alex closed his eyes. It was so good to hold her, but the feel of her warm body pressed against him sent a rush of blood to his cock, and he angled away slightly so she wouldn’t feel it. “Sorry I woke you. I would’ve let you know I was coming home, but they put me on a transport first thing this morning.” Or last night, as was the case in Afghanistan.

“That’s okay.” Pulling back, she smiled, relief clear in her expression. “You look great, all things considered. It’s good to have you home.”

“Thanks.” She looked even better than he remembered. Soft, full curves and smooth skin that begged for a man’s touch. And as always, that unique combination of sexy and sweet never failed to tie him in knots.

Tia ran a hand through her deep blond waves and crossed her arms over her breasts. God, she was sexy. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? I just went shopping yesterday, so the fridge is full.”

His internal clock was completely messed up so he wasn’t ready to turn in, but he didn’t want her going to any trouble for him. “Thanks but I can get something myself. It’s late. Go on back to bed.”

She paused halfway to the kitchen. “It’s no trouble, and I won’t sleep now anyway. Let me make you something.”

Always the caregiver. He nodded, knowing she genuinely wanted to fuss over him. She treated him the same as she would her brother. Why did that make him want to wince? “All right.”

“Grilled cheese?”

“Sounds great.” It’d been a while since he’d had a homemade meal.

It was weird to sit at the kitchen island doing nothing while he watched her work, but he didn’t interfere. In the kitchen, Tia ruled. She’d added a few little feminine touches to his place in his absence, he noted. A couple of plants that, thanks to his grandmother, he recognized as African violets, and what looked like some Parisian-themed stuff. Little touches, but they made the neutral beige room feel almost cheery.

“I added a few things,” she said, following his gaze, “but I didn’t make any permanent changes, and I’ll take them all with me when I go.”

“It’s okay. Place looks good.” Warmer. Homier. Normally coming home made him feel cold and empty, but not this time. Knowing Tia was here had made him eager to get to the house. He didn’t want to think about her leaving yet.

Bending to gather ingredients from the fridge, her robe lifted slightly, revealing several tantalizing inches of pale thigh just below the soft, round swells of her ass.
Christ.
With effort he dragged his gaze up to her face as she looked over her shoulder at him, tucked a lock of honeyed hair behind her ear. “Tea okay, or do you want something stronger?”

“Tea’s fine. Can I help with anything?” He figured she’d say no, but he felt stupid sitting there like a guest in his own house while she did all the work.

“No, but you can keep me company.”

That wasn’t exactly a hardship, and her response didn’t surprise him. He thanked her when she slid a glass of cold sweet tea across the charcoal granite island, watching while she preheated the cast-iron frying pan—obviously hers, since he didn’t own one—and shredded three different kinds of cheese onto a cutting board. His mouth watered when the slices of buttered French bread began to sizzle in the pan.

When the sandwiches were ready she set the grilled cheese on plates, slid one over to him and pulled up a stool on the other side. “Dig in.”

“Smells great, thanks.” Simple, but light years ahead of the MREs he’d been eating in the field. The bread was crispy, the cheese gooey and melted. Perfect. He almost moaned at the first bite, savoring the flavors. He could feel her watching him as they ate. Doing an inventory of his injuries, no doubt, the physical therapist in her taking over.

“When did it happen?” she asked finally.

“Few days ago.” He hadn’t had a chance to e-mail her about it and hadn’t wanted her to worry.

“You look sore. Do you have full range of motion in your shoulder?”

“Yeah, I’m just a bit stiff. Healing up fine though, and I’ll be back to normal in a few weeks.” When he took another bite and looked up, he realized she was staring at his head, her sandwich held poised partway to her delectable mouth. He had a bad feeling he knew what she was thinking about. Her next question confirmed it.

“Were you on foot when it happened?”

He shook his head. “On patrol in a Humvee. Insurgents remote-detonated the IED, and we got caught in the blast.”

She met his gaze, seemed to gather herself. “How big was the explosion?”

“Big enough.” The questions might seem merely curious and benign to someone else, but he knew where this was really going. Knowing he shouldn’t torture himself by touching her, against his better judgment he reached across the island and took the delicate hand locked around her glass of sweet tea. Her skin was so pale compared to his, the Afghan sun having darkened what his Mexican heritage had already given him. Her slender fingers were cool and stiff in his, but he felt the jolt of that simple contact all the way up his arm.

“Hey.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, full of uncertainty, but she didn’t try to withdraw her hand.

“I had a slight concussion, but there was no permanent damage done. I don’t have a TBI.” He knew that’s what she was scared of. God knew she had reason to be. She’d been married to a man who’d endured a traumatic brain injury, and she’d suffered for it.

Nodding, she withdrew her hand and stared down at her plate, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, but her shoulders visibly relaxed. “I’m glad. But what about…”

“PTSD?”

He swore she flinched, but she covered it well. “Yes.”

“Two of my men in the vehicle were killed. Writing their families was hard. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t bother me, but I’m not messed up over it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” He covered the awkward pause that followed with a change in subject. “So, how’ve you been? Work still good?”

“Yeah. The army keeps us busy with a roster of new patients every week.” She picked at her sandwich, wouldn’t meet his eyes. “And…I guess you heard the legal separation’s been finalized? Divorce proceedings are already underway.”

’Bout damn time too. “Yeah, Brian told me. He was pretty happy about it.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t shy about saying so.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “My brother’s always been protective of me.”

“That’s one of the things I like most about him.” Her twin was great, but Alex had hated her piece-of-shit ex, even before the head injury. And afterward…Jesus, he couldn’t believe she’d stuck it out as long as she had. Was it her job as a rehab specialist that made her stay when things turned so ugly? God knew she’d tried everything to help him get better. Maybe she’d been in denial that the man she’d married was gone forever.

But he didn’t want her to dwell on her failed marriage or to make her sad. “You look great, Tia.” That drawn, haunted look was gone from her eyes, the one that had knotted his guts over the past two years. Though she still wasn’t back to the confident, outgoing woman he’d once known. Whatever had happened behind closed doors, her sorry excuse for a husband had all but killed parts of her. The bruises he’d left behind might not show on the outside, but they’d scarred her just the same. Alex wished he could erase every one of them.

The pretty flush deepened, and she looked away. “Thanks. Nothing like a traumatic relationship to make a girl drop twenty pounds.”

When her meaning registered, he frowned. She did look thinner. Almost too thin. It bothered him that she thought she’d needed to lose weight in the first place. He’d always loved her curvy figure. Shaped like a woman, not a stick. “I didn’t mean that. I meant you look…content. Happier.”

She shrugged. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

But that wasn’t saying much, was it? “That’s good.”

They made small talk until they’d finished the sandwiches, and he took the plates to the sink over her protests. “I’m not an invalid, and you’re not my servant.”

As though suddenly self-conscious standing there in her robe, she folded her arms over her ample breasts as she smiled at him. Breasts he’d fantasized about more times than he’d ever admit to. In his dreams they were round and full and soft, their tips a pale candy pink until they hardened for him and turned a deep raspberry color.

“I’ll just grab a couple things from your room and let you turn in.”

He jerked his gaze back to her face. Shit, he’d been blatantly staring at her chest, hadn’t he? He cleared his throat. “I can sleep in the guest room.”

“No way. It’s been months since you were last in your bed, and you need a good night’s sleep. I changed the sheets this morning, so they’re still fresh.”

He withheld a sigh, knowing it was pointless to argue. But the knowledge that she’d slept in his bed all this time satisfied something primal inside him. Stupid, since he hadn’t been in it with her, but he liked the thought of her there.

Tia grabbed a few things from his room and stopped in the hallway when she saw him standing at the top of the stairs. “I’ll get the rest in the morning. Thanks for letting me stay here for these past few months, Alex. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, anytime. You know that. And you were doing me a favor by looking after the place.”

They said goodnight, and after he removed the bandages he took a shower in his ensuite while the scent of her tropical shampoo filled the steamy bathroom. His soft bed felt like heaven, the pillowcase still bearing the faintest trace of her perfume. Breathing in deeply, he rolled onto his stomach and suppressed a growl when his swelling cock pushed against the mattress. It throbbed as he imagined her curled up here, in these same sheets, naked. Dreaming of him. Aching for him. So desperate for relief from the arousal swirling through her that she slid a slim hand between her rounded thighs to play with the slick folds there. Shit, he could see her face so clearly, her pink lips parted on a quiet sigh, eyes closed in bliss as she stroked herself.