Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors 14)

She met his questing tongue with her own, reacquainting herself with the mind-numbing taste of Jacob. Liquid fire poured straight through her like a swig of his beer.

He looped an arm around her waist to mesh their bodies and walked her with him, their synchronized steps almost dancelike. Jacob locked the door, flicked a switch activating the No Vacancy light in the window, and backed her into his apartment, never once halting his deliberate homage to her lips. Every brush of their bodies against each other nudged his solid arousal against her stomach, a reminder, a promise.

Jacob backed her across his darkened apartment until they stood bathed in the moonbeams streaming through the skylight. True to his word, he peeled away her clothes with torturous precision. His broad hands tunneled beneath the sweatshirt as inch by shivery inch, he bunched the fabric up and free.

Her yellow floral shirt hung loose, draping over her breasts. Jacob fingered the small rips where there had once been pearly buttons. His jaw flexed, and she feared the mood had been broken.

“Jacob?”

Groaning, he pressed her to him. “I should have been here for you.”

She feathered her fingers over his brows. So many shadows lingered in his eyes. Insecurities nipped. What did she have to offer? Very little according to Blane.

She could give Jacob reassurance. “You’ve been there for me since the second I first walked into the lobby. You’re here now.”

“Not a real hardship tour, being here for you tonight.”

In spite of his lighthearted tone, Dee searched his eyes and found a mirror of her own thoughts, an appreciation for the rare window of time they had together.

She cupped his face in her hands. “I need you. I need you so much tonight.”

Suddenly slow didn’t seem as important as the urge to be closer. She reached for him as he reached for her. Their hands dodged each other to stroke aside clothes and any lingering inhibitions. They made their way up the loft steps, leaving a path behind them.

Camouflage draped over yellow flowered flannel.

Rugged thermal rested beneath a white lace bra.

When they reached the top step, she wore nothing but her panties. He wore nothing at all.

Moonlight caressed every inch of Jacob as she longed to. She walked her fingers down his chest, her skin so pale against the bronzed vitality of him. So much strength beneath her hands and she ached to soak some of it up to carry her through the coming days.

He grazed the backs of his fingers along her jaw, her neck, between her breasts. She gasped, her mouth drying as moist heat pooled between her legs.

Jacob sealed his mouth to hers, probing deeply, fully, as he would later do with his body. Her senses already heightened from an evening of too much emotion, she hooked her arms around his neck and simply hung on.

His hands roved, possessed, until he splayed one hand along the middle of her back, the other cupping her bottom. He lifted her, trailing kisses along her jaw. Raised her higher still, his mouth nibbling down her neck.

Jacob kissed a moist path between her breasts. Her breath hitched in anticipation. He lingered until she wanted to yank his hair in frustration.

“Jacob, forget slow.”

She felt his smile against her skin, another tantalizing brush that pulled the thread of desire tauter within her. He puffed a teasing blast of air over her just before he latched on. She exhaled, shuddered and arched in a silent invitation for more.

Dee braced her hands on his shoulders, her arms trembling as her legs dangled. He laved equal attention on her other breast, feasting alternately from both until her head fell back. Her hair swayed along her spine, sending a fresh tingle along her already-shimmering nerves.

Jacob lowered her to his bed, and in the flash of time before he joined her, Dee devoured him with her gaze. The very size of him thrilled her. Six foot four inches of muscled man, all hard and eager for her.

Then he hooked his thumbs in her panties, and she froze. How could she have forgotten? Her scar would glare, bringing the world rushing back between them. Already tears stung. A band of pain constricted her ribs.

He hovered over her, his brows knit together, his breathing rasping as if he’d shoveled the whole parking lot. “Do you want to stop?”

Definitely not. “No.”

His exhaled enough relief to combat the best Washington storm wind. “What’s wrong, then? What do you need?”

“Nothing. Just don’t stop, please.”

His eyes never left her face as he skimmed her panties down her legs and to the floor. Instinctively her hand flew to her stomach and covered the place where her baby had once rested, where a scar remained.