Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance) (56 page)

The water had a brown tinge and smelled funny. But it was wet and warm, and after glancing in the fractured mirror over the sink at her mussed hair and dirty face, she decided stinky-clean was better than simply stinky.

First, however, she shucked her clothes and washed them in the sink using bar soap, and then left them drying on the towel rack while she showered, careful not to come in contact with the dingy shower curtain or look too hard at the grime stains on the tub. “Seriously, they couldn’t have arranged a safe house at a Hilton?”

And then she laughed. Maybe she was bordering on hysteria, because dirt and bugs really were the least of her worries. She ducked her head under the spray, remembering the Spartan shower she’d enjoyed the previous night. Followed by the sexier one she’d shared with Angel. Good Lord, a full twenty-four hours hadn’t even passed since she’d sauntered in on him, hoping he was half as interested as she had been. Still was, actually, but he’d only been playing a role. Trying to get into her bed and her confidence to see if she was his target. Something she fought hard to keep in mind, because as her body relaxed beneath the warm spray, her thoughts filled with images of his large, muscled frame, pushing her against the wall while his very proportionate cock drove into her—hard.

She washed her hair and used the shampoo to wash the rest of her as well, since she didn’t trust the bar soap for anything but her clothes. And when she was done, she remained standing under the water because it felt so damn good and the sound of the rushing water at last calmed her shattered nerves.

The shower curtain whooshed to the side, but she didn’t bother looking back. “Afraid I’d use all the hot water?” she asked, smiling to herself.

“Make room.”

Good Lord, all he had to do was use that deep, sexy voice and she was ready to leap at his slightest command. Deciding then and there she wouldn’t be a doormat, she handed him the little bottle of shampoo, then swept her hair forward over her shoulder. “Wash my back?”

A grunt sounded, but a moment later, his large, rough hands smoothed soap over her shoulders, and then massaged slowly down her back. When he reached her buttocks, she decided she’d hoisted herself on her own petard when he cupped her bottom and rotated the globes in small circles—open, apart, open.

“Okay, uncle,” she blurted, although his touch was arousing.

“What’s that?” he said, a hint of humor in his rumbling growl.

“Enough. Shouldn’t one of us be watching the windows?”

“We won’t be long. And this is a safe house. We’re isolated, and the neighbors won’t hear a thing.”

His hands moved up to her shoulders and gently massaged, thumbs circling on her neck until she dropped her head forward and groaned. Desperate to keep up the conversation to prove he wasn’t getting to her that quickly, she murmured, “Won’t hear what?”

He chuckled and slowly turned her around. Then kneeling in the small tub, he added soap to his sudsy palms and started with her breasts.

There was no escaping his smoky green eyes as he bathed her. The sexiest man she’d ever met was kneeling at her feet, his features hard and tight, his body even more so. Maya began to tremble. “You missed a spot,” she said as he tweaked her nipples.

He arched a dark eyebrow. “Show me.”

Nibbling the corner of her lips, she slid her hand over her lower belly and slipped it between her parted thighs. “Here,” she said, rubbing herself, a finger teasing between her folds.

His hands didn’t move from her breasts. “Might want to hold onto my shoulders,” he growled, and then he bent toward her, his mouth opening to gobble at her mound.

When his lips sucked at her labia, she clamped both hands on his shoulders and squeezed. “Oh, Angel...
Angel
.”

One hand left her breast and urged her to place a thigh over his shoulder, then he cupped her buttocks and dove deeper, his tongue sliding into her slit.

She shivered with pleasure. Despite the fact he was an action guy, Angel was concerned for her pleasure. That had to mean something.

“You’ll get soap in your mouth,” she gasped as he tongued her clit.

A gust of laughter vibrated against her. And she thrust her fingers into his short hair, pulling.

He relented, releasing her and standing. “Go dry off. The bed has fresh sheets. Get between them. I’ll be a minute.”

So, not the most romantic man on the planet, but she didn’t care. The heat in his eyes had her scurrying over the side of the tub. She grabbed a towel on her way, and dried herself as she walked, heading to the bedroom, which had barren, rough-planked floors and an iron-framed, twin bed. Big enough, she guessed, since she doubted they’d spend a minute of it lying beside each other.

The water stopped with a groan of old pipes. She draped the towel over the end of the bed and lifted the sheet, sliding in and coming up on an elbow to watch him enter. Sunlight from the thin curtains burnished his skin when he arrived a moment later, nude and with droplets still clinging to his tanned skin.

“You’ll get the sheets wet,” she said, feeling breathless.

“You took the only towel.”

“Oh.” Watching him use the damp towel to wipe away the water was surprisingly erotic. Her tongue licked her bottom lip as she imagined her own hands brushing away the droplets as he swiped his belly and lower.

His gaze dropped to her mouth.

She smiled and tossed back the sheet. “The bed’s tiny. Your feet will hang over the end.”

“Let me worry about that,” he said, draping the towel again, and then walking to stand directly in front of her.

Her gaze filled with hard abdomen, muscled thighs, and a thick, pulsing cock. Following her instincts, she reached out and traced his length with a finger, from soft cap, down his veined, reddened shaft, to his balls. And then she pulled herself upright, her thighs opening as she sat on the side of the low mattress and bent toward him. She rubbed her cheek along his length, letting her eyelashes fall to shield her expression. Couldn’t have his ego grow even bigger than it already was, no doubt. He knew she thought he was gorgeous.

And he already saw too much. Her eagerness was there in her touch as she cupped his balls, rolling them in her palm, tugging them to test their heavy weight. Turning her head, she pressed her lips against his shaft and trailed up and down, her tongue sneaking out to wet him, her awe at his length and girth evident in her shortened, excited breaths.

Thick fingers thrust through her wet hair, guiding her upward until she stretched to reach the satiny cap. With her tongue, she swirled over him, loving the increased tension of his fingers digging into her scalp.

Angel centered her and widened his stance, lowering the height of his cock.

Without further encouragement, Maya opened her mouth and accepted his gentle thrust. His cock slid across her tongue and the roof of her mouth, so large she had to widen her jaws to take him. With her lips protecting her teeth, she accepted his thrust all the way to the back of her throat, before she pulled backward, then sank again.

His hands tightened, holding her head still, and he took over, fucking her mouth with slow pulses while she concentrated on loving him with her tongue and sucking around him to ensure he never wanted to leave her mouth.

But at last, he pushed her back. His glance went to her breasts.
 

Her own gaze dropped. Her nipples were darkened, the tips distended. And they ached.

When he flicked a finger against one, her mouth dropped open.

“God, again.” The next flick was harder, stinging, but she shivered and quickly moved back on the mattress, lying down, and opening her legs—her unspoken plea apparent in her movements. Her chest shivered with her short, panting breaths. She splayed her legs, letting him see the rich thick cream glistening along her slit.

Holding her gaze, he knelt on the mattress, and the springs groaned ominously.

Her lips quirked up at the corners.

His eyes narrowed, and he crawled over her, widening her legs with gentle shoves from his knees. When he came over her, he nudged her sex once, found her entrance and pushed deep, in a single, relentless thrust.

She sighed, bringing up her knees to hug his hips. “That’s nice.”

“The last time I was here,” he said with a stir of his hips, “I was rough.”

“Did you hear a single complaint?” Her fingers trailed over his tight shoulder muscles.

Eyes still dark and brooding, his mouth stretched. “Not a one.”

With her channel deliciously full, she raked his chest with her nails. “What does a girl have to do to get what she wants?”

He leaned on one arm and grasped her hand, sliding it down between them. He lifted his belly and pushed her hand past the thick column stretching her pussy, straight to his balls.

Her arm stretched, fingers gently extending to wrap around his balls. She gave them a gentle squeeze and a tug. “This?”

A hiss sounded then his eyes closed. His chest expanded, the crisp curling hairs cloaking it rasping her breasts. “Again.”

Her pussy clenched around him, tighter than the fingers clutching his balls. She extended her middle finger and rubbed the sensitive skin just behind his scrotum. “This?”

“Witch,” he breathed. When she scratched him there, he pulled her hand away and let his hips drop.

A single, curling thrust pushed his cock deeper inside her.

“It’s about to get rough again.”

Maya thrilled to the hoarseness in his voice. She moved her thighs higher, increasing the tilt of her hips, then slid her hands up his chest, along his neck to scratch through his thick hair. “I’m ready.”

“Don’t think you are,” he said, and braced his heavy body on his arms, rising up. He began to stroke inside her, nothing gentle about his sure, targeted thrusts. His rhythm was steady, his breaths unhurried.

But he was chopping hers apart because her arousal spiked higher with each hard stroke. While she began to writhe, he watched her with his keen, sharp gaze. Maya was coming apart. The higher toward the peak he drove her, the more unsettled and vulnerable she grew. Every emotion was pushed to the surface—arousal in the heat blossoming on her cheeks, fear of what he was becoming to her welling in her eyes.

She’d never been this way with a man. Had always managed to keep things light and fun, but with Angel, she was desperate for this to mean something to him, at least as much it meant to her.

What exactly that something was made her most afraid. She shut her eyes and felt the tears rim her closed lids. Afraid he’d slow, or worse stop, she reached down and scored his ass with her nails.

Angel shifted above her, and she blinked her eyes open. He scooped her knees into the corners of his arms and knelt, lifting her bottom from the bed as he pumped back and forth inside her, his body too far away for her to hold him. Not far enough away she couldn’t see the narrowing of his eyes and the fierce tautness of his jaw as he powered into her.

The man was a machine. A fucking machine. Hips pistoning. The thick muscles of his arms and belly tensing each time he thrust forward—faster, sharper—until sweat gleamed on his skin. And on hers.

Because she needed comfort toward the end, she smoothed her hands over own belly then upward, and cupped her breasts, tugging the tips.

The glint in his smoky green eyes encouraged her, and she got rougher with herself, pinching hard and pulling until they stung. Her pussy was so wet the lewd, moist sounds grew louder as he churned inside her.

Pausing, Angel pulled back his arms and smoothed his hands up the back of her thighs, straightening her knees. Then he folded them over his shoulders as he leaned slightly forward.

She crossed her ankles behind his neck as he palmed her ass and resumed his strokes, this time deeper, harder.

Her pussy was swollen and hot, squeezing tighter around him. Each forward thrust screwed through tender tissue so hot from friction she felt as though she were on fire. “Angel... please, please.”

“Play with your clit, baby,” he said, his thrusts so deep now his balls slapped against her ass. “Come for me now.”

Sure the added friction would be too much to bear, she shook her head.

“Do it, Maya. Touch yourself. Let me watch.” He turned his head and kissed the side of her calf, and stroked faster still. Then he glanced down between their bodies.

Slowly, she reached between then, spread the top of her stretched pussy lips, and bared her turgid clit. Just exposing it to the chilled air had her sucking in a breath. She licked her forefinger and tentatively gave the hard, wet knot a rub. Breath hissed between her teeth. “The sensation’s too much.”

“Let me see, or I swear, I’ll stop.”

Anger spiked. She gave him a scowl and rubbed her clit again, circling, each drag tightening her pussy around him until he was the one gasping.

Fighting to regain his rhythm, he jerked inside her. “Fuck, baby. You’re ringing my dick.”

Although very nearly there, Maya grinned, and this time, squeezed her inner muscles deliberately. Her finger glided on silky honey. Her eyelids grew heavier, weighted. Her jaw slowly relaxed. “I’m right there, Angel. Oh, God...”